Every so often, a novelist should make it a point to remember that most readers have about 54,000 other things they could be doing instead of reading a book. A novel will only hold your reader’s attention ahead of all those other things if it’s truly worth reading.
Aside from all the various mechanics and methods of writing that can turn off a reader, one item sure to doom your novel is goofing up on so-called little details—especially when you need to include subject matter that may not be familiar to you.
To wit: Continue reading
Good Friday: a day that no doubt didn’t seem so “good” to those who loved Jesus and knew him best. I can only imagine the darkness and despair that descended into the depths of their hearts when the sun stopped shining as Jesus hung bloodied and beaten on the cross, then finally cried “It is finished!” and gave up his spirit.
But on this side of the cross, we know that the story didn’t end there. Even on the hardest of days, we can find hope because of the resurrection power of Christ. As one author wrote about a particularly tough time in his life:
A hard day, yes. Rattled and unglued, yes. Unable to cope, no. How does the life-giving Spirit of the risen Lord manifest Himself on days like that? In our willingness to stand fast, our refusal to run away and escape into self-destructive behavior. Resurrection power enables us to engage in the savage confrontation with untamed emotions, to accept the pain, receive it, take it on board, however acute it may be. And in the process we discover that we are not alone, that we can stand fast in the awareness of present risenness and so become fuller, deeper, richer disciples.
So even amidst the darkness and despair of Christ’s death commemorated on Crucifixion Friday, we know that Resurrection Sunday is coming—and because of that, hope ALWAYS remains.
Christ is risen!
Hey there. Just a note to announce that I’m putting my blog writing on hold for a bit, as I am going through a rough stretch with some ongoing ailments. However, I look forward to returning here in the near future. Thanks for your patience.
John David Kudrick
“My grace is sufficient for you….” (2 Corinthians 12:9)
It will probably come as no surprise that editors enjoy the written word, which means that most of us wordsmiths not only work with words as a profession, but we also have our noses in books each day for the pure joy of reading. To wit, just the other night, I was re-reading an old trade paperback comic book (X-Men: The Dark Phoenix Saga) because I think it’s a great story overall, with super artwork to boot.
Anyway, at one point I came across some dialogue that is common enough in comic books because they are such a visual medium, and it reminded me of an issue that I come across all too often in my work as an editor: dialogue that doesn’t sound realistic because it’s so full of backstory and/or information dumps.
Again, in comic books I expect this to some degree because the writers have limited space with captions and word/thought balloons, but I have to admit that it still bugged me a little because it just sounded so unrealistic. When I see it in a novel I’m working on, I flag it and let the writer know that such dialogue will not ring true in a reader’s ears and will feel like a hiccup or speed bump even amidst well-written prose.
Here’s an example: Continue reading
In the first part of this post, we took a look at an author who lived and died by the plotter/planner method of crafting a novel—a method that had served him well more than once. But when we last saw this author, he’d just read a book on fiction writing that preached the polar opposite of the plotter/planner way: flying by the seat of your pants (aka, the pantser method).
So what did this author do? Did he just dismiss this blasphemous pantser drivel and stick to his guns as a plotter/planner?
Are you a pantser or a plotter/planner?
If you’re a novelist and you’ve done even a little bit of reading about the craft of fiction, then you’ve likely come across the terms “pantser” and “plotter,” which is also called “planner.”
Simply put, if someone asks which kind of fiction writer you are, she or he wants to know if you:
- fly by the seat of your pants when penning a novel and just let the story come to you day by day, or …
- plot/plan out your entire tale ahead of time and then follow that road map step by step from the first word of the novel all the way until you type THE END.
Depending on the crowd you find yourself in at the time, you may soon be caught in the verbally violent crossfire between those entrenched in these two camps of thought.