Monthly Archives: April 2024

Reader, Meet Character

Time for introductions. When writing fiction, you often must present a character to readers for the first time. As the saying goes, ‘first impressions are the most lasting,’ so make each a good one.

In this post, the team at NowNovel lists six ways to introduce characters to readers, and provides great examples of each from literature. In my post here, I’ll give you my own spin on this topic. Here are the six methods mentioned by NewNovel:

Methods

  1. Relate Backstory. Here you provide a character’s past history, a form of ‘origin story,’ to establish and explain personality and motivation. Take care not to drone on too long, or the info dump could bore readers.
  2. Discuss Reputation. In this method, you cause a known character to think or talk about an unknown character before arrival. That way readers get to know the new character in advance, from another’s point of view.
  3. Show Action. Depict the new character engaged in an activity. The reader then identifies the character with a specific hobby, job, or characteristic gesture or movement.
  4. Encounter Dilemma. You might show a new character struggling with a decision, on the horns of a dilemma. This reveals that character’s vulnerabilities, helps readers sympathize, and moves your plot along.
  5. Introduce Self. In this method, the character speaks to the reader in a ‘Call me Ishmael’ way. Simple and direct.
  6. Present Description. Here the author describes the new character so the reader forms a mental impression.

When to Use

Each method presents opportunities and challenges. You can even use some of them in combination with others. The first and sixth, if too long, can cause readers to lose interest in the characters and lose respect for the author. The second method works well for introducing antagonists, or any character with an air of mystery, and can built tension. You might reserve the third method for action-oriented characters, or those for whom their job or hobby dominates their lives. The fourth method also creates tension and works well for characters whose later decisions impact the plot, especially the ending. As for the fifth method, that works well early in first person novels where your protagonist narrates the story.

If you use the sixth method, consider descriptions beyond the sense of sight. Show readers the character’s scent, and maybe a sound, perhaps a sound other than a spoken voice. Remember, too, that these two senses work when out of sight, around corners, etc.

How to Decide

For your major characters, you may have written summaries (possibly called portraits or biographies) that include detailed descriptions. The summaries help you envision vivid characters with realistic aspirations and motivations. You’ll sprinkle data from these summaries throughout the novel, and may repeat some items for emphasis, and probably won’t use some facts at all. You’ll keep these summaries at the ready as you write the story, to ensure you keep facts straight and stay consistent.

As you create the summaries, give some thought to how you’ll introduce each character to the reader. In each case, which method of introduction best serves the story? If a particular introduction, once written, feels wrong, re-write it using one or more different methods and select the best. By ‘best,’ I mean the method you judge as the optimum for creating a memorable impression on the reader, and advancing (or not slowing) the plot.

Now, get back to writing. You’ve got a lot of characters to deal with, and a world of readers anxious to meet them. As for me, well, you know me already. Call me—

Poseidon’s Scribe

April 28, 2024Permalink

Your Type of Writing

Your personality type determines how you write and what you write. Sorry, but that’s a proven scientific fact (says the guy who’s not an expert on personalities, science, or writing for that matter).

In last week’s post, I cited Lauren Sapala’s claim that two Myers-Briggs personality types seemed most suited to pantsing (writing without an outline), rather than plotting. That got me wondering—does your Myers-Briggs Type Indicator reveal your writing process, and the genre of your fiction?

Kate Scott explored this topic well and I recommend her post. What follows is my whimsical take. To determine your type, take this online quiz. Then skip to my assessment of your type. If my write-up doesn’t ring true, well, I warned you. If you do identify with what I wrote, that proves even a blind pig, etc.

ENFJ

Process—Lucky you keep a notebook of interesting words and phrases. Now post that calendar with the deadline circled, and get ready to educate the world. If you can’t collaborate with a co-author, then at least consult.

Genre—Young Adult, with realistic teenage dialogue

ENFP

Process—Time to brainstorm with fellow writers. Get the feel of each character—know them like family. Let those metaphors and similes flow.

Genre—literary fiction or highbrow romance, where you connect your characters to the big ideas, the eternal aspects of human nature

ENTJ

Process—You joined a writer’s group, and soon became its president. You’ve researched all aspects of your book and could teach a college-level course in each. You’ve posted a mind-map on the wall near the executive chair in your ‘command bunker.’ All that remains is to adhere to your detailed outline.

Genre—technothrillers bristling with advanced gadgets, accurate in every detail

ENTP

Process—Peruse your ‘ideas file,’ now bulging with dozens, even hundreds, of story ideas. Bounce notions off your online fan club, or sit with friends at the coffee shop to discuss the book. Follow the intricate plan you’ve laid out.

Genre—mysteries featuring a clever detective, or other problem-solving stories where your hero contrives an ingenious solution to a bedeviling dilemma.

ESFJ

Process—you take your voice recorder everywhere, ‘writing’ by talking first. Collaboration? Heck, you tell everyone about your book, from the grocery clerk to your co-workers. Outlines bore you, so you write on the fly.

Genre—any popular genre, since you know what readers want, but always in first-person, like you’re telling a campfire story

ESFP

Process—You host a party, and the main entertainment is a freeform brainstorm of your story. A few drinks liven things up. For the actual writing, if you’re not collaborating with one or more co-authors on the effort, you wish you were.

Genre—romance, featuring your clever wordplay. with a huge cast of characters, often attending parties

ESTJ

Process—Somebody’s put out a submission call you like, so it’s time to sit at your well-ordered desk and craft an outline. Soon a theme emerges as you work to achieve each milestone of your plan.

Genre—short stories in any genre, prompted by submission calls, written in clear prose, about characters using logic to resolve conflict

ESTP

Process—Good thing you’ve assembled your collection of note cards with all the facts you’ll need. Now head to your favorite restaurant with your writer friends. Once the outline’s done, get the story written and published, because the real fun is at the book signings.

Genre—any genre where your characters can talk their way out of difficult jams

INFJ

Process—You’ve been people-watching in the park, notebook in hand, so you’ve now formed an image of your characters. You even know which actors should play them in the (please let it be!) movie. No outline will constrain you as you let the characters take the story where they will.

Genre—Romance, of course

INFP

Process—Home now after your daily nature walk, you retire to your writing niche, energized by fragrant incense and stimulated by seeing your favorite decorations. Time to write, unhindered by outlines or any assigned topics, you write what you want. You’re no sell-out to the market.

Genre—literary fiction of a deep, introspective, and moody nature

INTJ

Process—You’ve never shown anyone where you write, and you call it your ‘secret lair.’ A blueprint of your story fills the screen of one of the monitors on your desk. Maybe that first draft didn’t work, but that’s why you edit.

Genre—science fiction, alternate history, or steampunk, but always containing political overtones

INTP

Process—It’s well past midnight, but you don’t care, or even notice. You’re writing what you like. The detailed outline guides you. Thanks to careful research, and your collection of how-to-write books, you’ve learned a lot, and that’s the point.

Genre—mixed-genre novels, the kind booksellers can’t categorize, as well as experimental novels that explore untried plot structures

ISFJ

Process—You’ve done your research and know the plot types and tropes that work for readers. You’ve carved out this time to work without interruption, after first ensuring others in your home don’t need you for anything.

Genre—Historical fiction, in your easy style, all parts in harmony, designed to entertain and educate

ISFP

Process—You’re outdoors, on your deck or patio, or in the park, music playing in your earbuds. In your mind, you picture a reader enjoying your book. You just returned from a trip to the city of your novel’s setting, where you soaked in the ambiance of the place. That brisk walk you took earlier sure stimulated your muse and collected your thoughts about the submission call you’ve chosen to respond to.

Genre—novel-in-verse or literary fiction

ISTJ

Process—Here in your home library, surrounded by reference books (including a well-thumbed thesaurus), outline, schedule, and spreadsheets, you’re set to go. You’ve also hand-built a model of the very thing you’re writing about, to inspire you.

Genre—mysteries with a clever detective

ISTP

Process—Above your desk, you’ve posted a clear, one-sentence goal for your book. Nobody tasked you to write this book, and nobody else could craft it as well. You’re going to work as long and as hard as it takes to meet your high standards. Nothing but the Great American Novel will do.

Genre—any established genre, and you aim for the top spot in it

Eerie, isn’t it, how I knew your writing process and genre from your Myers-Briggs personality type alone? What can I say? It’s a super-power reserved to, (and used only for good by)—

Poseidon’s Scribe

April 21, 2024Permalink

Writing Like I Don’t—Pantsing

Could you ‘pants’ your way through a novel? I couldn’t.

Definition

‘Pantsing’ means writing without an outline—writing by the seat of your pants. That idiom, by the way, builds on the idea of mariners ‘sailing by the stars.’ In the early days of aviation, pilots who flew without instruments or navigational aids were said to be ‘flying by the seat of their pants.’

I’ve blogged about pantsing before, mainly here and here, but those posts contrasted plotters and pantsers. Today I’d like to concentrate on pantsers alone.

To me, pantsing seems strange, alien, almost unimaginable. Being curious by nature, I’d like to try it sometime. I’ve read blogposts by a few pantsers, and it seems like something I might just be able to do. In a short story, maybe, not a novel.

How to

How does pantsing work? According to the Writing Mastery Academy, you start with an idea, get to know your characters, remain open to inspiration, track your story with a simple organizational system, and keep your end goal in mind. The organizational system they recommend is not an outline written in advance (that wouldn’t be pantsing). It’s a very simple outline or set of notes compiled while writing, more like a rearview mirror view to organize what you’ve written.

Ariele Sieling’s process seems similar, but emphasizes different things. She says you should sit down, find your glimmer, say what comes to mind, and don’t stop. The ‘glimmer’ is the starting point, the ‘glimmer of an idea.’ I’d say the ‘don’t stop’ part goes along with ‘keeping your end goal in mind’ from the previous paragraph.

The Secret

But, without an outline, how do you keep your novel from going all over the place, on crazy tangents, or having minor characters start hogging the limelight, or changing your protagonist’s eye color several times? Lauren Sapala’s answer is to trust yourself and your process. It will work out alright. You can fix all those problems in later editing.

Not my Type

In another post, Lauren Sapala explains you don’t have much choice anyway. You can’t choose whether to write like a plotter or pantser—your personality dictates the choice. Using Myers-Briggs Type Indicator terminology, she says INFJ or INFP personalities seem most suited to pantsing. Those stand for Introverted-Intuitive-Feeling-Judging and Introverted-Intuitive-Feeling-Perceiving. Experts often describe these two personality types as the Advocate and the Mediator.

Since I’m an INTJ (Architect), that might explain why I don’t lean toward pantsing.

Point on a Line

Still, there’s hope for me yet. According to Kristina Adams, plotting and pantsing don’t result from a binary choice. They lie on a spectrum, depending on how much you rely on a previously written outline, how detailed that outline is, and how firm you are about sticking to it. You may write at any point along that spectrum.

What Pantsing Isn’t

As you read this post, some of you, no doubt, wondered if the opposite of pantsing is to write without wearing pants. That sounds easier than pantsing (as I’ve described it) and perhaps it’s worth some experimentation by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

April 14, 2024Permalink

A Sensitive Topic—Sensitivity Readers

You’ve heard of various types of editors. You’ve heard of beta-readers. But what’s a sensitivity reader? Should you hire one?

Societal Change

Let’s set the scene by reviewing recent history. In the past, a majority white and male-oriented culture prevailed in America. White, male writers often wrote about characters of other races, and female characters of any race, in a negative way, with prose full of stereotypes, misogyny, and racism. The reading public accepted this. I’m not excusing this, just stating it.

In recent years, we’ve seen a change. Readers seek stories depicting authentic women and people of color. They’ve rebelled against writing that falls short of that standard, often getting offended by it, and have broadcasted those opinions on social media, giving rise to ‘cancel culture.’

Publishers, noticing the changing market, have sought manuscripts with more realistic portrayals. The pendulum has swung the other way, and publishers often prefer stories with women and people of color as the heroes, and white males as the bad guys. Some publishers have extended this preference beyond the text, to the author. They sometimes favor manuscripts written by writers belonging to formerly marginalized groups out of a belief that only they can portray such characters in a non-offensive way.

Running Scared

For a time, a cloud of fear hung over the industry. White, male writers feared being cancelled, even rejected by publishers due to a gender and skin color they couldn’t change. Publishers, with predominantly white editors, feared cancellation, since even one book not meeting the standard could spell financial doom.

A Solution?

Into this fray strode ‘sensitivity readers.’ Like beta readers, they’ll review your manuscript and offer advice to improve it. But they specialize in identifying stereotypes, offensive phrases, and dialogue, and signs of bias against formerly marginalized people. They typically charge for this service.

The Backlash

A harsh reaction arose over the existence of, and need for, sensitivity readers. Accused of censorship and dictatorial gatekeeping, sensitivity readers would, some thought, act like thought police, rendering all writing bland and dull.

Backlash Against the Backlash

Supporters of sensitivity readers dismissed accusations of censorship, asserting that such readers only make recommendations. The author remains responsible for the writing, and the publisher remains responsible for the book’s publication. A sensitivity reader won’t certify your manuscript as cancel-proof, any more than an editor can guarantee no lingering grammatical mistakes or misspellings.

Rewriting the Past

The advent of sensitivity readers to help with manuscripts before publication coincides with a new and related phenomenon. Publishers now hire sensitivity readers as editors to put out revised editions of existing books, works once deemed acceptable, but now considered offensive by some. They’ve cleansed these revised versions of objectionable content. This has occurred to the works of Roald Dahl, Ian Fleming, and R.L. Stine.

The practice sparked controversy when it began, with critics taking umbrage at altering classics in the name of wokeness.

Today

Much of the uproar over sensitivity readers had died down. They stand as one more resource available to authors. Such readers perform a service, but responsibility remains with the writer and publisher, as it had before.

As for altering previously published works, the outrage here, too, shall pass. So long as (1) the book states that text has been changed from the original to suit modern tastes, (2) the original version remains available for purchase, and (3) no violation of copyright laws occur, there seems little harm. It’s akin to publishing abridged versions of long works, or revising very old works into modern English.  

Readers Rule

To me, it’s all about delighting, educating, or fascinating the reader. It’s always been about that since writing began. (Here I’m talking about writers who seek to have their work read, not those who write only for themselves.) If sensitivity readers help an author’s work connect better with today’s reading audience, I’m fine with them. As a writer, you’re free to use this available resource or not, and free to accept the resulting recommendations or not.

Come to think of it, maybe a sensitivity reader should have reviewed this post before its publication by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

April 7, 2024Permalink