2020 New Year's Resolutions

by

IFW editors

2019 has come and gone. Some of us are sad to say goodbye to a year filled with blessings; some of us are glad to say “See ya!” to a year of tribulations. With the new year comes a clean slate—a blank page, if you will—and the chance to write the next chapter in our lives.

Some of our editors here at IFW have elected to share their New Year’s resolutions. Perhaps they’ll inspire some resolutions of your own—or you can inspire us with your 2020 goals in the comments!

Charl Firbank-King: My “NO” button is broken­—I’m incapable of saying no—so I’m going to fix it.

Rhonda Browning White: I’ve given this New Year’s resolution thing a bit more thought this year, and I have a different take on it than before. I mean, why do we have to resolve to make a marked change on the first day of the year, only to (typically) falter or fail weeks or months later? I mean, there’s enough pressure just to write 2020 instead of 2019, right?

I wonder, why is it that we don’t make resolutions on other days of the year? Our birthdays, for example, seem the perfect time for improvement, considering that’s our personal New Year. Or we can resolve to be more loving on Valentine’s Day, or to make a new beginning on Easter Sunday or the first day of spring. As writers, we can resolve to sit down and write today, the very day we put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard. And we can make that same resolution again tomorrow, and the day after that. And we can skip a day (or three), and resolve again when inspiration (or deadline) strikes.

So, I guess what I’m saying is that I am making a new resolution: I’m resolving to resolve to make positive changes on a more frequent basis. And, instead of waiting for New Year’s Day, I’m going to start right now.

Will you join me?

Eric Fritzius: People often fail at keeping resolutions because they shoot at too far a target.  Oooh, I’m gonna exercise every day and lose 50 lbs!  Oooh, I’m gonna keep my office clean and be super productive this year!  Oooh, I’m gonna solve the Riemann Hypothesis!  These sorts of things rarely work out so well.  No, I like to aim at targets that are far more immediately achievable.  I march into the laundry room and announce: “I resolve that I’m gonna find a way to get the cat food dish from where it fell behind the washer, four months back.”  I then go find a magnet and some string and I bob around back there until I come up with cat dish.  I then resolve to celebrate this achieved resolution, possibly with a Reese cup or a libation or possibly both, depending on my proximity to 5 o’clock.  And I move on to resolving to build a little fence that will prevent the cat from knocking his bowl behind the washer anymore.  See, you can knock out two of three small resolutions like that in an afternoon and feel genuinely good about yourself.

Jessica Nelson: As much as I probably need to resolve to hit the gym and eat healthier, I think my resolution for 2020 is to be more mindful of how I react to things. I saw this quote from Charles Swindoll early this year when it made its rounds on social media: “We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you... we are in charge of our attitudes.” It really resonated with me. I tend to overreact, and usually in a negative way. So this year, I resolve to be more mindful of my reactions—to not catastrophize, to manage negative emotions and keep them in proportion to the situation, and consciously search for the positive when my instinct is to be pessimistic. So here’s to a more positive 2020!

Sandy Tritt: Resolutions laugh at me.  If I resolve to do or not to do something, within an hour, my resolution lies crumpled in the corner with a huge smirk on its face. Never fails.

So, instead of making a resolution, I want to try something different this year.

Twenty-twenty insinuates perfect vision. Twenty-twenty is the number of our new year. So, I am praying for vision—for the ability to see with clarity, wisdom, and insight—in 2020.  

May 2020 be your year for perfect vision—and success. Best wishes from all of us at IFW.

Using Figurative Language in Prose

by

Jessica Nelson

Although we generally associate figurative language with poetry, we use figurative language in prose and everyday speech. Like, when we come home from a bad day at work and say our coworker stamped around the office like a rampaging bull. Or when we’re describing our son’s game-winning goal (“He shot that ball from the opposite end of the field!” or, more accurately, from fifteen yards away). Or in our prose, as we describe anger like molten iron—weighing us down even as it burns us up. 

Here are the main types of figurative language: 

• Simile — a comparison between unlike things using “like” or “as” 

• Metaphor — a comparison between unlike things not using “like” or “as”; an analogy. Merriam-Webster uses “drowning in money” as their example. 

• Personification — giving human attributes/traits to non-human objects or animals, such as suggesting a ticking clock is mocking you or that a dark forest is watching you. 

• Symbolism — expressing the invisible or intangible by means of the visual or sensual (Merriam-Webster definition). 

• Hyperbole — exaggeration to create a humorous or emotional impact, such as “My backpack weighs a ton” or “We’ve had this conversation a million times.” 

• Imagery — using words to produce a visual image in the reader’s mind. I often talk about figurative language revolving around a central image. 

• Oxymoron — a combination of contradictory or incongruous words (Merriam-Webster). Google’s favorite examples are “seriously funny,” “deafening silence,” “jumbo shrimp,” and “act naturally.” 

• Onomatopoeia — sound effect words such as pop, bang, boom, thud. 

• Apostrophe — narrator speaks directly to a person who is not there or dead or to an inanimate object (https://literarydevices.net/apostrophe/) 

• Synecdoche — using a part to represent a whole, such as “the crown” to refer to the monarchy or a “suit” to refer to a business man. 

• Pun — a play on words. 

But figurative language can be more subtle, too, like the following: 

• Alliteration — beginning successive words with the same consonant or consonant sound 

• Assonance — repeated vowel sounds 

• Consonance — repeated consonant sounds, usually at the ends of words, such as “short and sweet” or “odds and ends.” 

• Anaphora — beginning each element in a series with the same word or words. A famous example is Charles Dicken’s “It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.” 

Figurative language is a great way to elevate prose, to create vivid descriptions that seem to move and breathe across the page. (See what I did there? That was personification.) In poetry, we can get away with some more outlandish images, but in prose, we need to keep our figurative language grounded in the world of our story. 

I’ve a had a few fiction manuscripts come across my metaphorical desk whose figurative language didn’t make sense in the context of the story. I never want to discourage prose writers from using figurative language, because it adds flavor and dynamism. But there are some things to consider when using figurative language: 

• Voice — If the story has largely been written in a no-frills style, then an effusive description of a sunset is going to seem out of place. A voice that uses plain, accessible language shouldn’t suddenly spout Shakespeare-level similes or use symbol-heavy metaphors. Figurative language should match the style and tone of the writing. For example, a description like, “the pale fingers of dawn scratched at the cloak of night, caressing the tops of the mountains and limning them in soft gold as midnight purple gave way to pastel pinks and blues” might sound out of place in a piece whose voice isn’t normally so poetic. 

• Point of View — Point of view is related to voice, but with a narrower focus. I’ve seen writers employ some truly spectacular metaphors or similes that ultimately made no sense because they were based on images or details the point of view character wouldn’t use or know about. Here’s where I’ll rat myself out: I wrote a kick-ass metaphor about a character getting angry and then having his bubble burst, and I’ll have to delete and replace it. 

“Anger spilled like molten iron through his veins, heating him from the inside, making his heart pump harder. . . . The molten iron that had coursed through him cooled and solidified, leaving him heavy and tired.” 

I was so proud of this image! I thought I had found the perfect way to describe that hot, simultaneously energizing and burdening feeling of being pissed off and the subsequent heavy, gravity-has-increased-by-one-hundred-fold sensation when someone takes the wind out of your sails*. Here’s the problem: my narrator in this scene is a twenty-year-old male whose primary interests are music and swimming. The forge-centered imagery of the molten iron heating and cooling doesn’t fit my narrator’s characterization. He doesn’t know anything about iron working. He might remember a little about lava-flow from his high-school physical science class, but I doubt that’s what he’s thinking about in this particular situation. (*metaphor and cliché) 

By using figurative language centered around an image beyond my narrator’s knowledge, I’ve drawn attention to myself as the writer. It’s like I’m standing in the middle of the prose waving a red flag and yelling, “Look at me! Am I not a fantastic writer? Look at that great metaphor!” 

Think about who is narrating your story/scene. What does he/she know? The answer can be based on where they are from or where they live now, what they like to do for fun, what they do for work, and/or their special interests. It can be based on past experiences or memories. The key is to use what the narrator already knows to craft figurative language that is relevant to the story. 

Let’s go back to my example above. For that particular scene, based on this narrator, I would write: Anger rang through his body like a cymbal crash. His heart pounded like a bass drum against his ribs, loud and staccato. His pulse thundered in his ears like a timpani’s roll. (Not as great as my molten iron image—yet. I’m still working on it.) 

• World of the story — This is a problem more for fantasy, sci-fi, or historical fiction pieces. The images we use have to make sense in the world of the story. A historical fiction tale set in the early 1600s can’t compare two horseback riders racing to NASCAR. A fantasy story set in a newly-invented world can’t use an image based on modern Earth technology. A sci-fi novel set on an alien planet can’t make allusions to Earthly objects/animals. These are very generic examples, but the point is to take note of what does and does not exist already in the world of your story. 

Here’s the catch-22. We still want to find familiar images that our readers can connect with. Let’s say we’ve set our sci-fi story on an ice-planet inhabited by enormous spider-like creatures, but our characters wouldn’t know what a spider is because spiders don’t exist in the world of the story. What do we do? We break the images down further: multiple eyes, eight spindly legs, sharp fangs that can inject venom. Those are all details that are familiar to us because we know what spiders look like, but we never had to say the word “spider.” 

Subtle ways to incorporate figurative language: 

At the 2018 West Virginia Writer’s conference, I attended Belinda Anderson’s workshop, “Poetic Devices in Prose,” and it’s from her lecture that I composed the short list of “subtle” figurative language devices seen at the top of this blog. She gave us an opening line and then gave us poetic devices to incorporate into our little stories. Here is my little story. 

The music came from somewhere in the woods . . . 

High and clear and haunting like rainfall and cricket chirps. I halted on the dirt path, my backpack slamming against my shoulder blades. The melody seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, like the earth itself was singing.1 

After a spellbound moment, the music faded. But as haunting and strange as the tune had been, this silence was stranger. The usual sounds of the forest did not return. Birdsong stayed silent, rustling remained quiet. The usual sounds of dusk disappeared.2 The hoots of owls, the howls of wolves, the shush and rustle of wind in the leaves—gone.3 I prayed for the return of the tweet and twitter of the cardinals and robins, for the scratch and scratch of burrowing critters, for the crunch of deer traipsing on dead leaves.4 

The last of the light faded as the sun set behind the trees, and it struck me just how long I’d stood here. I forced myself to move, but the strangest thing happened. As the woods darkened, the path grew light. Thunder rumbled and the music returned, the crisp notes of the wood flute growing frantic and harried as the melody soared, and the path grew light.5 

1. Simile and personification 

2. Alliteration 

3. Assonance 

4. Consonance and onomatopoeia 

5. Epistrophe (the opposite of anaphora) 

Note: this passage is jam-packed with figurative language because it’s a writing exercise. But look at the way the figurative language adds extra oomph to the prose. When used correctly, figurative language can add life and vitality to our prose, but we must walk the fine line between figures of speech that sound good and ones that make sense.

GUEST POST: Overcoming Writer's Block with Automatic Transcription

by Jason Kincaid

This article was originally published by Descript, and an expanded version of the article can be found here.

If you’re a writer—of books, essays, scripts, blog posts, whatever—you’re familiar with the phenomenon: the blank screen, a looming deadline, and a sinking feeling in your gut that pairs poorly with the jug of coffee you drank earlier.

If you know that rumble all too well, this post is for you. Maybe it’ll help you get out of a rut; at the very least, it’s good for a few minutes of procrastination.

Here’s the core idea: thinking out loud is often less arduous than writing. And it’s now easier than ever to combine the two, thanks to recent advances in speech recognition technology.

Of course, dictation is nothing new—and plenty of writers have taken advantage of it. Carl Sagan’s voluminous output was facilitated by his process of speaking into an audio recorder, to be transcribed later by an assistant. (You can listen to some of his dictations in the Library of Congress!) And software like Dragon’s Naturally Speaking has offered automated transcription for people with the patience and budget to pursue it.

But it’s only in the last couple of years that automated transcription has reached a sweet spot—of convenience, affordability, and accuracy—that makes it practical to use more casually. And I’ve found it increasingly useful for generating a sort of proto-first draft: an alternative approach to the painful process of converting the nebulous wisps inside your head into something you can actually work with.

I call this process idea extraction (though these ideas may be more accurately dubbed brain droppings).

Part I: Extraction

Here’s how my process works. Borrow what works for you and forget the rest—and let me know how it goes!

• Pick a voice recorder. Start talking. Try it with a topic you’ve been chewing on for weeks—or when an idea flits into your head. Don’t overthink it. Just start blabbing.

• The goal is to tug on as many threads as you come across and to follow them as far as they go. These threads may lead to meandering tangents—and you may discover new ideas along the way.

• A lot of those new ideas will probably be embarrassingly bad. That’s fine. You’re already talking about the next thing! And unlike with text, your bad ideas aren’t staring you in the face.

• Consider leaving comments to yourself as you go—e.g. “Maybe that’d work for the intro.” These will come in handy later.

• For me, these recordings run anywhere from 20–80 minutes. Sometimes they’re much shorter, in quick succession. Whatever works.

Part II: Transcription

Once I’ve finished recording, it’s time to harness ⚡️The Power of Technology⚡️

A little background: over the last couple of years, there’s been an explosion of tools related to automatic speech recognition (ASR) thanks to huge steps forward in the underlying technologies.

Here’s how ASR works: you import your audio into the software, then the software uses state-of-the-art machine learning to spit back a text transcript a few minutes later. That transcript won’t be perfect—the robots are currently in the ‘write drunk’ phase of their careers. But for our purposes, that’s fine. You just need it to be accurate enough that you can recognize your ideas.

Once you have your text transcript, your next step is up to you. Maybe you’re exporting your transcript as a Word doc and revising from there. Maybe you’re firing up your voice recorder again to dictate a more polished take. Maybe only a few words in your audio journey are worth keeping—but that’s fine, too. It probably didn’t cost you much. (And good news: the price for this tech will continue to fall in the years ahead.)

A few more tips:

• Use a recorder/app that you trust. Losing a recording is painful—and the anxiety of losing another can derail your most exciting creative moments. (“I hope this recorder is working. Good, it is... @#*! where was I?”)

• Audio quality matters when it comes to automatic transcription. If your recording has a lot of background noise or you’re speaking far away from the mic, the accuracy is going to drop. Consider using earbuds (better yet: Airpods), so you can worry less about where you’re holding the recorder.

• Find a comfortable space. Eventually you may get used to having people overhear your musings, but it’s a lot easier to let your mind “go for a walk” when you’re comfortable in your environment.

• Speaking of walking: why not go for a stroll? The pains of writing can have just as much to do with being stationary and hunched over. Walking gets your blood flowing—and your ideas, too.

• I have a lot of ideas, good and bad, while I’m thinking out loud and playing music at the same time (in my case, guitar—but I suspect it applies more broadly). There’s something about playing the same four-chord song on autopilot for the thousandth time that keeps my hands busy and leaves my mind free to wander.

The old ways of doing things—whether it’s with a keyboard or pen—still have their advantages. Putting words to a page can force a sort of linear thinking that is otherwise difficult to maintain. And when it comes to editing, it’s no contest: QWERTY or bust.

But for getting those first crucial paragraphs down (and maybe a few keystone ideas to build towards)? Consider talking to yourself. Even if you wind up with a transcript full of nothing but profanity—well, have you ever seen a transcript full of profanity? You could do a lot worse.

Found a New Writing Toy

by

Charlotte Firbank-King

 



 (Posted with the author's permission from her blog. Original article can be found here.)

I found a new writing toy, the voice. I've added a link below. Go about halfway down the website for step-by-step instructions for a PC. I have Microsoft Word 2010, but it works on earlier versions.

I love using this toy when I'm editing. It's like having an extra sense. Usually when you edit you rely on sight, or you read the words aloud, but even reading aloud you still read past mistakes. So, why are there still typos? Because your brain reads what it expects to see.

With this voice-over tool, it reads to me and I can instantly pick up where I forgot a period, need a comma, have too many commas, used a word twice, or the sentence just doesn't make sense. Often one will cut and paste stuff, then forget or get distracted and the sentence is gobbledygook.

The voice is pretty robotic which is a bit disconcerting at first, but if you read as the voice speaks it's fine and you get used to it.

There are some annoying things. If you abbreviate a name like Beatrice to Bea, the voice spells it out. If you use an em dash it sort of joins everything without a pause. If you have a character stutter, like "I--it can't." then it reads the first letter a I, as in "I, it can't.", but I can live with those little hiccups. I even get used to it.

I recently started converting my YA book, Akir the Warrior Boy to the Smashwords format. This book has been edited hundreds of times by me, beta readers and my editor Sandy Tritt from Inspiration For Writers Inc. and there were still typos--GGGRRR.

It's also great for editing academic works, which are usually dry as dust, just like the voice, but you will pick up typos.

I would strongly urge all writers to use this toy (tool) if you aren't already.

Here is the link:

https://www.howtogeek.com/197880/how-to-make-your-computer-read-documents-to-you/



About C.F. King (from her blog):

I had a fabulous childhood in Livingstone, Zambia. I spent my life exploring the bush. Now I live in Cape Town.

A life-long love affair with words and history made historical mystery romance a natural fit. I’ve explored southern Africa, and traveled to England and France to absorb their rich history.

I studied art and qualified at Pretoria Art College. Most of my works depict wildlife, marine creatures, or the ethnic people of Southern Africa. Writing took a backseat to my art for decades. Then I decided life was too short to stick to one thing. Despite success in the art field, I chose to concentrate on my writing.

I have three amazing children: two daughters and a son. They encourage and support everything I do. My second husband, my soulmate, was a cop. He was killed in a shooting. This tragedy drove me deeper into writing to escape grief.

I edit, ghostwrite and illustrate for a US company, Inspiration For Writers, Inc. The CEO, Sandy Tritt, is my friend, mentor and editor. Without her, I would never be where I am.

I've published four books on Amazon, and will soon publish on Smashwords to broaden my reach to readers.

Amazon link:
https://www.amazon.com/C.F.-King/e/B00D9IQTNW/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1500126501&sr=1-2-ent

To Prologue or Not to Prologue?

by

Jessica Nelson

You’ve sat down at the computer, or with your pen and paper, and started to write. The scene is set in your mind and the words are flowing onto the page. After all that beautiful prose is complete, you realize that this is the beginning of your book—but it’s not where your story starts. So you slap the word “prologue” above what you’ve written and move on to chapter one.

Or, you’re getting ready to send your novel out to publishers, and you realize your first chapter is a little slow, so you pull out a scene from the middle or the end of your book—one filled with tension and action and suspense—and put it at the beginning to hook the reader and make them want to keep reading, and you call it the prologue.

But do you really need that prologue?

I remember reading a claim recently that most readers skip over the prologue and jump straight into chapter one. I tried to find verification for that claim, but couldn’t find anything official. What I did find was a pretty heated debate not only about whether people read the prologue, but also about whether prologues should even be used.

Let’s deal with the first question: Does anyone read the prologue?

There seems to be two diametrically opposed groups. One group insists that reading the prologue is essential. Why would the writer bother with the prologue if it wasn’t meant to be read?

The other group believes if the information in the prologue was important, then that information would appear in the meat of the story (chapter one or onward).

I personally always read the prologue. But I admit to being disappointed when the prologue is nothing more than a scene from later in the book meant to catch the reader’s attention. Especially when that scene is a word-for-word excerpt.

According to Sandy Tritt, “For the past several years, publishers and agents have shied away from prologues. They say readers don't read [prologues], so just start your book with chapter one and be done with it. The problem with many [prologues] is they simply don't capture our attention and hold it. Which is a killer for any book. So, my professional opinion is to avoid prologues (because agents and publishers have said so).”

However, Tritt acknowledges that sometimes a prologue is useful, and she has read well-done prologues and even used prologues herself.

So now we address the second question: When is a prologue effective?

An effective prologue . . .

1. . . . adds important contextual or historical background. In fantasy or science-fiction, a prologue may set up the culture and customs of the world so the forward action of the story isn’t bogged down by background information.¹ In historical fiction, the prologue may introduce a particular historic event around with the story revolves or it may introduce the time period to give the rest of the story the appropriate context.² Clive Cussler does an excellent job with this type of prologue. Cussler often includes a prologue that introduces a historical event that relates to the main conflict of the story. However, there is a fine line between effective and ineffective with this type of prologue. Tritt says, “If I wanted to give an information dump describing why my characters do what they do or to inform about an unusual setting, I would not use a prologue.”

2. . . . allows for narration from a point of view that won’t be used again. This is generally seen in mystery or crime fiction, where the prologue will be written from the point of view of the killer or the victim.³ Regarding viewpoint, Tritt says, “If you are using a full-circle plot, your first chapter and your last chapter should be in the viewpoint of the same character. Yet if something from the past and from a different character's viewpoint needs presented in real-time, then I would use a prologue to act out that scene. Alternately, if your story presents only one viewpoint throughout, yet something that happened previously in a different viewpoint needs acted out, then I would use a prologue for that scene.”

3. . . . is a scene that occurs before the starting action of the story. According to Tritt, “If the prologue contains a scene that happened prior to the main storyline of the book and it still has a bearing on the characters, and it is written with dialogue and action that holds the reader's attention, I don't have a problem with a prologue.” Sometimes this is the inciting event—the moment that sets the rest of the story in motion—but that event may occur months or years before the starting action of the story. A prologue allows the writer to introduce the inciting event without needing to add it later as a flashback or try to work it in to a revealing dialogue exchange.

An ineffective prologue . . .

1. . . . takes a scene word-for-word from somewhere else in the novel. This is usually an attempt to grab the reader’s attention when the writer isn’t confident their first chapter will capture and maintain the reader’s interest.⁴

2. . . . creates a general atmosphere but does not add any information about the world of the story and/or does not include any action that effects the narrative.⁵

3. . . . contains a background information that would be more effectively presented in pieces throughout the narrative. Tritt says, “If the background information is given in a flat and uninteresting way, I strongly suggest getting rid of the prologue and find another way to slowly give the reader the background information during the natural unwinding of the plot.”

4. . . . is boring. If the prologue isn’t interesting, then it’s only detracting from your prose.

Even if you’ve written an effective prologue, there’s a still a chance your reader won’t read it and will miss out on potentially important information. We have some alternatives to prologues:

1. Can your prologue be just as effective if you made it chapter one? This is relevant mostly to prologues that contain an inciting event or a historical milestone. Charlotte Firbank-King rarely uses prologues and instead uses subtitles in her chapters to indicate if significant time has passed from chapter one to chapter two. As Firbank-King writes, “I prefer to treat the prologue as chapter one with a subtitle or date—then one can hit chapter two with another subtitle or date, like ‘5 years later,’ or ‘1066’ in chapter one and ‘1944’ in chap two. In my YA fantasy book, I have a subtitle for each chapter and chapter one is ‘The beginning.’ Chapter two has two subtitles: ‘Attack’ and then one under that on the left that reads, ‘Six summers later.’ In adult books, I’ve used dates.”

2. If your prologue is a scene from later in the story, then maybe what you need is a more interesting chapter one. You can still use the scene or excerpt as your book blurb or as bonus before chapter one (not denoted as a prologue or as any official part of the story.) The Lifeguard by Deborah Blumenthal does this. She takes a high-tension scene from near the end of the book and includes it between the title page and chapter one, but it’s not marked as a prologue or anything else. It’s a teaser available to anyone who wants to read it, but it’s not necessary to start the book.

That said, you should always assume that your reader is starting at chapter one. If chapter one doesn’t catch and hold the reader’s interest, then maybe the story hasn’t started in the right place.

3. If the prologue contains primarily background information, then an alternative to having a prologue would be to incorporate that information throughout the text. Be careful to avoid info dumps, though.

To prologue or not to prologue? That remains the question. There is no hard-and-fast rule or a one-size-fits-all solution. It largely depends on the story and the way the prologue is written and utilized. We’ll end with some advice from Tritt: “Study what is selling, study the art of writing, and then make an informed decision about how to structure your book. There is never one-way-fits-all, so don't be afraid to buck trend if you have an intelligent and necessary reason for doing so. Good luck!”









Footnotes (additional information used as inspiration or paraphrased from other sources)

 

1 Daily Writing Tips (https://www.dailywritingtips.com/3-reasons-to-ditch-your-novels-prologue/); McAlister, Marg, “The Prologue” (http://www.foremostpress.com/authors/articles/prologue.html)

2 Daily Writing Tips

3 Daily Writing Tips
4 McAlister, Marg, “The Prologue”
5 Daily Writing Tips

2018 Writing Resolutions

Happy New Year, everyone! We hope this is the year you accomplish all your writing goals. Here at Inspiration for Writers, Inc., we’ve put our yearly writing-related New Year’s resolutions in writing so we’re accountable. 

I’ve always believed we’re more likely to do things if we tell other people we’re going to do them. (Like when you tell someone to remind you to do something later, you’re more likely to remember it yourself.) So in that spirit, we’re sharing our resolutions with you. 

Jessica Nelson: My writing-related New Year's Resolution is to write for fun this year. It seems like since I started college, all the writing I've done is assigned—even the creative work. Now that I've graduated, I'm going to make it a point to go back to my passion projects and work on them just because I love the stories and the characters, not because I expect anything to come from them or because I have a deadline.

Geoffrey Fuller: I resolve to finish the damn book. (If you’re wondering what “damn book” he refers to, Geoff is working on a book about the 1970 WVU co-ed murders. You can check out the podcast about the project at http://soundcloud.com/maredandkaren.) 

Sandy Tritt: I resolve to devote one hour a day to my personal writing. Maybe that doesn't seem like a lot, but it's much more than I've done for a long time. And, who knows? Once I put in that first hour, I may find another hour or two to add to it. We'll see. For now, I'm going to just promise the one hour.

Charlotte Firbank-King: I don’t make New Year resolutions because I’m so busy keeping promises to other people that I don’t have the wherewithal to keep promises to myself. Besides, I hate having to flick the little devil off my shoulder all the time as it whispers, “Epic fail!” However, I am going to learn the art of promoting on the internet and be more diligent about doing blogs, etc.

Stacy Tritt: I want to write more often, but I also want to work on writing more creatively again, instead of just journaling and writing for work. I resolve to write one poem or short story per month in the new year.

Rhonda Browning-White: 

• Read and study more novels. I've spent the last several years studying short stories, and I've just finished my short-story collection (about a week ago!), so I want to shift my focus to novels. 

• Finish my novel. See above. ;) 

• Submit my short-story collection for publication. This starts in a few weeks. 

• Write more blog entries. 

• Live life more creatively (and everything that means)!

What are your writing-related New Year’s resolutions? Let us know in the comments!

Wishing you all a happy, healthy, successful 2018 from the IFW Family.

Working at Home Like the Professional You Are

By

Sandy Tritt and Roxanne Sutton

After almost 20 years of owning a small business with an office in my home, I’m starting to get it figured out. When I first started, I felt like I worked constantly, yet I didn’t get much accomplished. Of course, at that time I had three school-aged kids hanging around, which made life a bit more interesting, but even with the kids, I discovered some secrets that make working at home easier. To gain a younger and different perspective, I also asked my daughter, Roxanne Sutton, a communications manager who works at home on occasion, to weigh in. She has a toddler and one on the way, so her routine is a bit different from mine.

1.      Decide how many hours a week you want to work. Be realistic. If you have kids at home or other obligations, take that into consideration.

2.      Set office hours. Decide what hours you want to work and what days of the week you’re available. Then, create a schedule with your office hours clearly marked. This means that if your sister wants to go shopping during your office hours, you need to reschedule for a time you’re off duty. This also means that you’re not trying to work at 8 p.m. when the kids are going to bed.

3.      Find an office area in your home. It can be a desk in a corner, a spare room with all the trimmings, or a comfortable chair with a handy laptop. Have everything available you’re likely to need so you don’t have to get up and hunt for a pen.

4.      Treat your office area like a real office. If possible, get a separate phone line for your business so you’re not interrupted with personal calls during the day—and so you can walk away from the business phone when your day is over. If you can close a door, do so. The more you can sequester yourself, the better.

5.      Treat your office hours like a “real” job. Get out of bed, get dressed, go to your office, and “clock in” at the same time each day. Roxanne adds: Yes! Do your routine! It will set your mind for the day. Don’t just roll out of bed and go to work.

6.      If you have kids at home, hire a sitter at least a few hours a week to get the kids out of the house. Do NOT, however, allow TV or video games take the place of a person for your children. They deserve more than that. Roxanne adds: If your kids are young, definitely set up daycare or some other care. They need constant attention, and you won’t be good at parenting or working if you’re trying to do both.

7.      Protect your office hours. When you’re scheduled to work, work. Don’t take a long lunch with a friend or chat on the phone with your bestie for 45 minutes. And absolutely DO NOT check Facebook, the sales at your favorite store, or the latest popup ad proclaiming what the child movie star looks like ten years later. If you’re overly tempted to check such things, make a note with the link and check it during your off hours.

8.      Protect your non-office hours. When you’re scheduled off, don’t work. Resist the temptation to do “just a little” right now. This is one of the things that makes you feel like you’re constantly working. If you’re in the mood to work and have the time to do so, then time your working hours and deduct them from the next day’s (or Friday’s) schedule.

9.      Let your family and friends know your working schedule. Ask them to please plan all emergencies for when you’re not working. This will take a while for them to get used to, so when they call during working hours, say, “I’m working right now. Can I call you back when I get off at five?” After a while, they will get accustomed to your work schedule as well.

10.  Structure your work day. I begin each day by reviewing email and dealing with any that need dealt with. I then work on whatever is on my schedule to work on that day. I try to set goals for each project, whether it’s to finish a small project before lunch or to knock off 15 pages by end of day. I end each day by planning my activities for the next day so I’m ready to get started right away. Roxanne weighs in with a 30-year-younger perspective: To-do lists are key. My new favorite app for this is Todoist. It has a mobile app that syncs with your web app, and you can sort tasks by project, assign due dates, etc. I also see the value in a written list, but it’s nice to have an app handy so I can write a crazy to-do while in the grocery store and then get it off my mind until the next work day. When I’m really busy or coming down on a deadline, I supplement the online list with a more detailed written list for a project. Sandy adds: I sometimes wake up at three a.m. in a panic because I’ve forgotten to do something that must be done. I grab my smart phone and send myself an email. Sandy also adds: I set alarms on my smart phone if I have an appointment or meeting. That way, I don’t have to continually check the time—I can concentrate fully until the buzzer rings. I started doing this with an old windup alarm clock when my kids were in school—after I was so involved in a project one day I forgot to pick them up.

11.  Keep a note pad next to the computer. When I start working on a project, I write down the time and the page number. When I stop working for any reason (the phone rings, I have to go to the bathroom, etc.), I jot down the end time. If you are writing, track the number of words you write during each segment. This helps me to clearly see how many hours I’m actually working. It also helps me to stay focused, because I play games with myself, constantly trying to work for longer times without interruption or to complete more working minutes in a day.

12.  Know you can’t plan everything. No matter how hard you try, there will always be work emergencies that require extra effort or family emergencies that require taking time off. Don’t let this stress you out. Just know that you can’t plan everything, and get back on your schedule as soon as you can.

13.  Take care of your body. Eat regular meals. Schedule breaks—and take them. I take a mid-morning and a mid-afternoon break of 10-15 minutes. I either go for a quick walk or do some stretching exercises. This helps clear the head and keep the body from cramping. Also, if you’re sitting in the same position for hours every day, you’re asking for your muscles to complain (and mine are whinier than a roomful of two-year-olds). Find alternate ways/places to sit. Yoga is a great stress-buster and helps stretch out those problem areas. 

Bottom line: working from home is a great option in today’s busy world. For those of us who make a living writing and editing, it’s pretty much the standard. For those who work in traditional offices, it’s becoming more common and can be a win-win for both the employee and the employer. But understand that working from home still means working. Put in your time, get your work done without distractions, and then enjoy your free time.

What Solving Puzzles Can Teach You About Writing

by

Jessica Nelson

 



Lately, my family has been into jigsaw puzzles. It started in July on our annual family vacation. There were several rainy evenings, so we picked up a couple of puzzles from Boulineau’s to entertain ourselves when we couldn’t go out. And so began our puzzle-working addiction. We are now on our seventh puzzle since July, each one with more pieces than the previous.

As we’ve worked our way through the triumphs and the disappointments, I’ve realized that writers can learn a lot from solving puzzles. Here are some lessons I’ve learned.

1. There’s always that piece that almost fits. As you put together your puzzle, you inevitably find pieces that look like they should fit somewhere, but they don’t. They have the right shape and the right colors. Sometimes, the piece even appears to fit at first, but then you discover it’s in the wrong place when other pieces don’t fit around it. The same thing happens in storytelling when you have information important to the story, just not in the right place. This could be exposition or backstory or even a scene that you know has to fit into the big picture somewhere; it just doesn’t fit right there. It’s okay if whatever piece of the story doesn’t fit right away—don’t force it. Be patient, and eventually you’ll find the right placement.

2. Knowing when to move on. When you've been looking at that same section of puzzle for so long that you can't even see it anymore—like when you've been trying to figure out the same scene for days—it's time to move on to a different section. Or, in this case, a different scene or a different story altogether. We’ve all been there. In my house, while working on the puzzle, we periodically rotate positions or move onto a new section so we don’t get burnt out focusing on one place. Sometimes we get stubborn and refuse to move on to a different part of the puzzle, which just leaves us frustrated. As writers, we tend to do the same thing. We fixate on one scene or chapter or story and keep at it, even if we aren’t doing any productive work on it. Even when we are only driving ourselves crazy. Puzzle making has taught me to know when to move on and work on something else. Don’t worry, whatever is driving you up a wall will still be there later. In the meantime, take a step back, let your eyes readjust, let your brain clear and refocus, and go work on something else for a while.

3. How to see the big picture. Related to my first point, sometimes you’re convinced a piece has to go in a certain section because of its colors or patterns, so you spend hours trying to make it work in that part of the puzzle. But when you step back and look at the whole puzzle, you realize those same colors occur elsewhere, and that piece you’ve been trying to force for hours actually belongs somewhere else. Sometimes the same thing happens when you write. You try to fit a scene or a character into a story, but when you take a step back and look at the big picture, you realize it may not belong in that part of the story. Or maybe it doesn’t belong in the story at all. When you view the big picture, you can see what’s working and what isn’t. You can see what sections are complete and what needs to be developed.

I recommend breaking out a puzzle—even one of those hundred-piece puzzles that take less than a day to complete—and see what you can learn from puzzle working. And when you’re done (and your brain is refreshed), get back to writing! Once you get one story solved, you’ll be ready to take on the next. And the next. And the next.

Not Your Normal Thanksgiving Blog

by

Sandy Tritt

When Thanksgiving rolls around, we’re reminded to be grateful for all the joys in our lives. We list the things we’re grateful for, such as family, friends, health, career, home, and so forth. But then I got to thinking about the things I usually leave off my list—things that have happened over the years that have been painful. It’s hard to be grateful for a heart broken by young love. It’s hard to be grateful for losing a friend over a misunderstanding. It’s hard to be grateful for the death of a loved one, especially when that loved one is still young and vibrant. It’s hard to be grateful for seeing your child suffer. It’s hard to be grateful for tough times that force sacrifice and create fear.

And yet, it is usually the unpleasant items on our lists that forge us into the human beings we are and that make us better people—and better writers. It’s hard to understand the depth of love, anger, fear, shame, frustration, embarrassment, and desperation unless we’ve experienced it. It’s hard to create characters who experience strong emotions and go through difficult times unless we’ve been there ourselves. It’s hard to have empathy for others—both human and imaginary—unless we’ve felt the burn of shame, the ache of loss, the frustration of a bad break.

My father once stated that he was happy he’d been able to serve in World War II. Expecting a patriotic lecture, I asked him why. He said he’d never been out of our little Podunk town in West Virginia—never traveled, never seen any of the world. Being assigned to the Army Air Division (which later became the Air Force), he traveled to Florida and Indiana before being sent to Europe, where he saw much of France, Great Britain, Belgium, Germany and the Philippines. He met many interesting people and witnessed history in the making. Even though he suffered horrific things that he was never able to speak about, and even though he lost his hearing from a too-close blast that should have killed him, he was grateful for the experience that allowed him to grow as a person.

So, this Thanksgiving, I am grateful for the tough times I’ve been through. No, I’m not courting more calamity and I don’t want to relive unpleasant experiences. There are many I’d definitely rather undo than still live with the consequences. Yet, these are the experiences that have formed me into the person I’ve become and that have set me free to breathe life and truth into my characters. 

I challenge writers this Thanksgiving season to make your own list of misadventures, heartbreaks, and calamities. What did you learn from each experience? How can they help you better understand your characters? How can you use what you’ve learned to shape your characters?

Be grateful for each day, whether good or bad.

Happy Thanksgiving!

It's all about the Mindset

by

Charlotte Firbank-King



I watched a video about mindset by Dr. Carol Dweck, and it occurred to me that many writers, seasoned or new, have a mindset that holds them back from their full potential. This is also true concerning a lot of things we do. Think along the lines of the story “The Little Engine That Could.” The engine chugs up a hill saying, “I think I can, I think I can.” Then as it nears the summit, its chant becomes, “I know I can! I know I can!” That’s a positive mindset.

According Dr. Dweck, a high school in Chicago had a strange but effective grading system. If students didn’t pass a test, they got the grade “Not yet.” This meant they could achieve their goal; they just weren’t there yet.

She gave a test with problems slightly too difficult for the students. Some of the students flourished in the “not yet,” but some were stuck in the “now.”

Some loved the challenge and, according to Dr. Dweck, they had a “growth” mindset. The “not yet” mindset gave them a path to the future—they understood they were on a learning curve and that their capabilities could be developed.

Other students thought it was awful and their intelligence was being judged because they failed. Dr. Dweck said they came from a fixed mindset, a “now” mindset. Instead of luxuriating in the power of “not yet,” they were gripped in the tyranny of “now.”

So many times writers battle with the various skills needed to make their creative writing truly sing. As an editor, we see the struggles writers encounter with “show, don’t tell,” controlling viewpoint, writing effective dialogue, and all the other aspects of mastering the skill of creative writing—frankly, the list is exhaustive.

Often, when faced with this seemingly endless list, new writers become discouraged, trapped in the “now” mindset. But if they would only change their mindset to “not yet,” they will succeed.

See every word, sentence, phrase, paragraph, and chapter as a challenge and never run from difficulty. Run to it, embrace it. Luxuriate in the power of “not yet” and push free from one’s comfort zone, free from the tyranny of “now” and failure.

The biggest thing in your favor is your passion to write. Even when your head is spinning and your eyes burning as you try to grasp the different rules and skills of creative writing, don’t forget your passion and don’t take your eye off “not yet” for a second.

Even when you grasp all the rules and skills to write well, don’t stop there. Keep your eye on the “not yet” mindset and strive to be better. Otherwise, it’s too easy to fall into another trap when success is achieved—complacency.

A twelfth century cleric in the court of Phillippe of Alsace, the Count of Flanders, coined the phrase in French: Rome ne s’est pas faite en un jour. Rome wasn’t built in a day. They never gave up their quest to rule the known world. Of course, after several centuries, they developed an attitude of, “We’re unbeatable, so we can rest on our laurels.” This is complacency. This is dangerous.

The definition of “resting on one’s laurels” is to be satisfied with distinction won by past achievements and cease to strive for further achievements. So, even if you’ve published a successful book, don’t think you’ve got this writing thing waxed. Never rest on your laurels—never decide a sentence, phrase, or even the whole manuscript is good enough. Always strive for that perfect set of words that will make a sentence or phrase pop until the story is packed with wonderfully crafted words.

Never stop the “not yet” mindset.