Writers in the Storm

by Michelle Barker

Beats are such small moments in a novel that it’s tempting to think of them as inconsequential and not worth our careful attention. I’m talking about dialogue beats (not screenwriting beats, which are something else altogether), those moments around a conversation where a character might put down their glass or notice the setting sun.

And yet, if used effectively, beats can be story-changers, not only in filling out a scene but also in developing character. More often than not, however, we settle for something generic and allow our characters to sigh, laugh, nod, and shrug their shoulders.

Generic beats are like dandelions: if you don’t root them out, they’re liable to take over an entire story. We rely on them because they’re easy. We know the dialogue needs a dramatic moment, a pause, something, so why not let our characters smile their way through dinner? The trouble is, generic beats do nothing to develop character. Yes, they’re easy, but they’re also ineffective.

If you actually count the number of times your characters smile, laugh, nod, etc. you might be in for a shock. This will likely be the moment when you accept there’s a problem and it must be tackled. So, you turn to bodily betrayals instead—sweating palms, racing hearts, upset stomachs. Marginally better, but these come with a built-in problem: sooner or later (probably sooner), you’re going to run out of body parts. Your poor character’s heart will race so many times, the reader will be certain a coronary is imminent.

But there are other ways to handle beats

How about details of setting? It’s important to keep one foot in the physical world in your scenes, and your setting should be dynamic. It should be chosen for a reason and that reason should impact whatever is happening in the scene.

Beats are a perfect opportunity to take care of that.

• Is the room getting warmer?
• Is something burning in the kitchen?
• What’s that smell?

Any of these details can be used to amplify tension in a scene.

You can also use beats for interior monologue.

• How does your character react when on a first date her companion spills red wine all over the table?
• What is she really thinking when she says it’s fine that he’s just stained her expensive new dress?
• What does she think of that beard?
• And what’s with all the aftershave?

Add a third thing

This is perhaps the most effective way to lift your beats out of the generic. If there’s a conversation that your characters must have, don’t let them just sit there and talk. Triangulate the dialogue. Add a third thing. In other words, give them something to do while they’re talking, something that needs to be accomplished as the conversation proceeds.

As with setting, you’ll want to choose wisely. Eating and drinking can work, but what if you push harder?

Back to that first date: instead of a restaurant, what if you put them at a fire pit on the beach?

Mr. Aftershave has been single for a long time, and this is his big chance to impress a special someone. While he chats to her about his job (probably exaggerating), he’s going to light a campfire.

Or rather, he’s going to try.

Imagine the beats now. The wood is a little damp, the fire won’t catch, and he’s trying so hard not to lose his cool, but soon frustration sets in and tension rises. In situations like this, you can do a lot with the contrast between what’s happening in the scene versus the conversation taking place around it.

If Mr. Aftershave works in human resources and prides himself on his ability to stay calm under pressure but can’t hold it together while trying to light the fire, your material will do a ton of character work for you. Best of all, it will show rather than tell who this person is—as well as revealing who the other person is by how they react.

Examine your passages of dialogue

See if there are scenes where you can enhance the conversation by adding some action or paying more attention to the action that’s already occurring.

• Are your characters in a car while they’re having their conversation?
• How does the driver react to being stuck in traffic?
• What do they do if someone cuts them off?
• Is there an exceptionally annoying song playing on the radio—or one that brings back unwanted memories?
• Are your characters in a kitchen?
• How does your protagonist load the dishwasher if he’s angry at his partner?

Try to choose action that has a high possibility of failure, or something that promises to make at least one person look awkward or ridiculous.

The nice thing with beats is how subtle they can be. You’re not stopping the story to give us these details. You’re slipping them in seamlessly so that the reader barely notices them. Beats allow for sprinkling—as opposed to dumping. Giving long descriptions or explanations about a character usually requires stopping the story and thereby pulling the reader out of the fictional dream. Beats, if used efficiently, keep the story moving.

In conclusion

Your reader wants to get to know your characters and draw conclusions about who they are based on how they behave. If all they’re doing is blinking and sighing, we get no insight into their personality. But characters who behave badly or don’t say what they really mean, characters who get frustrated or angry—well, that’s interesting. Show me more!

How do you handle dialogue beats? What do you use beats for in your stories?

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About Michelle

Michelle Barker is a novelist, poet, and senior editor with The Darling Axe. With David Griffin Brown, she has co-authored three books on writing: Immersion and Emotion: The Two Pillars of Storytelling, Story Skeleton: The Classics, and Fake Query Letters by Dead Authors. She is also the author of three novels, including The House of One Thousand Eyes (Annick Press) which won numerous awards and was on Kirkus’s list of best YA historical fiction of 2018, as well as a picture book, A Year of Borrowed Men (Pajama Press), which was a finalist for the TD Canadian Children’s Literature Award. Her collection of poetry called Chef will be published in 2027 by Caitlin Press. Michelle holds an MFA in creative writing from UBC, teaches regularly at conferences and through the Federation of BC Writers, and lives in Vancouver, Canada.

Top Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

by Ellen Buikema

Sometimes taking a walk on the wild side, stepping outside the writing norms, can lead to great results. Here’s why ignoring writing rules can lead to interesting works.

First, Know the Rules Before You Break Them

The main elements are:

• Clarity and Coherence: Ideas are easy to understand and flow logically.
• Grammar and Syntax: Sentences and punctuation are used correctly.
• Structure: Have a clear introduction, body, and conclusion.
• Tone: Use a tone that your readers expect based upon the story’s purpose.

Reasons to Break Those Rules

Breaking the Norms for Effect

Breaking writing norms is best done as a deliberate choice to strengthen the power of your writing. Consider a personal narrative. Using unusual sentence structures can mirror an experience, especially for chaotic exploits.

How to Break the Rules

Very short sentences give a feeling of urgency. “I said stop!” So does using an action verb before the subject instead of the more common Subject, verb, object.  “Watch out for those buzzy, candy-filled kids!”

Think about the reason you’re writing and what you want to get across. If straying from norms serves a purpose, it’s worth trying.

Engaging and Distinctive Voice

A unique voice can make your writing shine. When you stick to the norms, your writing won’t stand out. Breaking the rules to create a distinctive style that allows your readers to relate on a personal level. For example, blog posts can benefit from a conversational, more personal tone that doesn’t strictly follow formal writing rules.

How to Break the Rules

Write as if you are having a conversation with a friend. Use colloquialisms, contractions, and a relaxed voice to make your writing feel real and keep your readers engaged.

“For years, I’ve kept my two worlds separate.

There’s Jenny, the fiction writer, lover of craft, believer in the power of story. And there’s Jen, the Storyselling Sherpa, who helps businesses articulate their difference so they can build trust and increase revenue.

I’ve never really blended the two.

But in 2023, while spending long hours in a chemo chair, wondering whether I’d get through to the other side, something became very clear: Life is too short to do work you don’t believe in.”  —  Jenny Hansen

Enhanced Emotional Impact

Now and then, breaking the rules can boost the emotional impact of your writing. You can create a sense of urgency by using unconventional formats or grammar. For instance, using sentence fragments or varied punctuation can control rhythm, understanding of the sentences, heighten emotions, and add tension more effectively than following traditional rules for writing.

How to Break the Rules

Use short, impactful sentences for suspense and a sense of urgency. Play with punctuation to create drama or rhythm. “For sale: Baby shoes. Never worn.”  —  Earnest Hemingway

Genre Shifts

Readers have different expectations, depending on the genre. For instance, a reader of romance novels expects a happy ending.

What’s considered a norm in one genre might be uncommon in another. Fantasy and science fiction genres often alter the rules with the creation of imaginative worlds and invented languages.

How to Break the Rules

As part of research, read several genre-specific stories to get a feel for what the authors composed. See if their methods/ideas are a good fit for your narrative, regardless of traditional writing rules.

J.R.R. Tolkien, who’s Elvish is my favorite invented language, is said to have developed languages for fun. This interesting article is about the topic of inventing fictional languages.

Innovative Perspectives

Rule breaking can change your paradigm, leading to new perspectives and fresh ideas. Nontraditional approaches might unlock creative problem-solving.

How to Break the Rules

Challenge existing perspectives. Experiment with different viewpoints, even if they are very different from established norms.

The Improbability of Love, by Hannah Rothschild, is told from the viewpoint of a painting.

Reader Engagement

Writing outside of the norm can make readers curious. Readers may be more interested in a story that invites them to engage in new ways, making the reading experience memorable.

How to Break the Rules

Weave interactive elements into your writing. Create a narrative that encourages readers to think and engage with the story’s content. Try interactive narratives in your story. Have alternate endings.

Here are 20 classic novels that almost had different endings.

An interesting story with many possible alternatives is Pretty Little Mistakes by Heather McElhatton, with more than 150 possible endings.

Unleash Creativity

Letting go of rigid rules allows for more creativity. For example, Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs, with a nonlinear and disjointed narrative, reflecting the protagonist's addiction and fragmented consciousness. And Mark Z. Danielson's House of Leaves by Michael Seidlinger who’s novel is known for its unusual layout.

Varied:

• Words per page
• Text direction, sometimes sideways
• Pages filled with footnotes

 All reflecting the confusing, labyrinth-like nature of the house.

How to Break the Rules

Try experimenting with non-linear storytelling. Let thoughts and ideas flow in a stream-of-consciousness fashion even if it means ignoring standard grammar rules.

Final Thoughts

Writing norms and conventions have their place, however breaking the rules can lead to great results. Defying traditional rules can set up new and different possibilities for your writing.

Get feedback from your Beta readers on how the broken rule sounds. That can help determine if you’ve found your writing voice.

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About Ellen

Author, speaker, and former teacher, Ellen L. Buikema has written Parenting ... A Work in Progress, non-fiction for parents, and The Adventures of Charlie Chameleon chapter book series with stories encouraging the development of empathy—sprinkling humor wherever possible. Her Works in Progress are The Hobo Code, YA historical fiction and The Crystal Key, MG Magical Realism/ Sci-Fi, a glaze of time travel.

Find her at https://ellenbuikema.com or on Amazon.

Top Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

by Joseph Lallo

If you’d asked me a few years ago to define myself as an author, I probably would have called myself a novelist. (Actually, I probably would have argued with you about whether or not I was an author because of impostor syndrome issues that we won’t get into here.) Regardless of how I would have answered in the past, though, I can’t ignore that a large part of my writing time and at this point the bulk (by title count) of my literary output has been in the form of short stories. I never would have predicted this would be the case.

For one thing, keeping things short is not a strength of mine. For another, short stories are a bit of a puzzle when it comes to things like marketing. But time makes fools of us all, and I’ve developed a genuine affection for short-form writing. It offers unique opportunities, and lends itself to some inventive methods of composition that can really shake up a writing process and keep things feeling fresh. What have I learned? Let’s get into it!

Short Is Sweet Method

It is always good to start with “why” before you go into “how.” Why would you dabble in short stories? Well, speed, for starters. It may shock you to discover this, but short stories are short. When I’m firing on all cylinders on a writing project, my daily word quota is on the order of 3000 words. That means a properly planned short story (or one where I really hit my stride while pantsing it) can be a one-day affair.

In a business where it’s not out of the ordinary to take weeks or months to finish a piece, getting a first draft in the “done” column in a few hours is a real shot in the arm, even if revisions might extend that a bit.

Short stories are low stakes, too. A wise man once said that grapes are the fruit of opportunity. If you get a bad one, who cares? There’s always a bunch more waiting for you. Short stories are the same way. You certainly can labor over every sentence, but you can just as easily cut loose and even get a little experimental, because a short story is a small-time investment. For you that means if it doesn’t satisfy you, who cares, it was a breeze to create. And if a reader doesn’t like it, they don’t feel betrayed by having squandered hours of precious free time reading it.

I could go into detail about how shorts are well-suited to readers who are accustomed to social media-length posts, or how shorter things are better suited to giveaways or shares on your blog, but what I’d rather talk about today is the methods I use to generate short stories.

Variations on a Theme Method

I recently released the fourth in my series of short story collections, Paradoxes and Dragons. As the name would suggest, the collections tend to have stories that contain fire-breathers and time travelers. Earlier I established that short stories are a small-time investment. Whereas I’d be inclined to think long and hard about the specific angle of an idea that I’d want to focus a full novel on, I don’t have to limit myself nearly as much with a short story.

It is hardly rare for me to muse to myself–for example–that I’d like to write a take on a fairy tale. Maybe something that plays with the tropes of the genre a bit. Rather than committing to a single interpretation, I challenge myself to construct an array of stories that are variations. I’ll list out, in this example, aspects of the fairy tales that I find interesting or otherwise genre defining.

Princesses, knights, dragons, wizards, magic, narrators, explicit lessons to be learned, etcetera. Then I’ll start grouping them up into potential ideas.

• What if the dragon is the knight, one who thinks he’s playing out the fairy tale playbook by “rescuing” a princess from her palace?
• What if the narrator starts to lose control of things, and genre-savvy characters object to the plot’s trajectory?

In no time at all, I’ll have a list of premises.

As often as not, I’ll stumble upon ideas that hadn’t even occurred to me at the beginning of the process. And I can pick my favorite to develop, or just throw caution to the wind and write all of them. It’s astonishingly effective at getting the juices flowing. But it invites the observation: Isn’t that just a way to brainstorm short stories, not necessarily a method for writing short stories?

Why, yes! Aren’t you a keen observer of detail? Once you have ideas that are well-suited to shorts, you can move on to the “short specific” construction methods I’ve come to favor, such as…

Just The Intro Method

When you only have a few thousand words to tell a story, you can’t always fit a full plot. Short stories and serials are among the few story formats that will let you get away with that, so I often indulge myself in a little bit of “let the reader fill in the blanks.” Let’s go back to one of those examples from above.

Suppose your characters stage a revolt on your narrator. It would feel awfully rushed or crowded to blaze through the introduction of the characters, the establishment of the norm, the breaking of the norm, the battle of wills, and the new normal of the narrator adjusting to the genre-savvy characters, then sending them on an adventure in this curious new situation. So, who says you have to?

When I’m working in short stories, I feel it is entirely acceptable to really sink my teeth into an introduction or premise, then hurl the characters off into the reader’s imagination with more of a trajectory than an actual plot. You’re not fully exploring the story. You’re inciting it and giving your audience a chance to imagine that world for themselves.

Doing things this way allows you to write concepts that might not withstand scrutiny for more than a few chapters. Alternatively, it might leave your audience wanting more without necessarily doing a cliffhanger. It also leaves the concept open for expansion and sequels. And all the while, it gets in and out before an idea overstays its welcome. Of course, if you’re more of an “en medias res” sort of writer…

Just the Climax Method

Have you ever listened to a song and imagined a whole stirring, exciting scene in your head? Have you ever then had the heartache of realizing there was no place within any of your existing settings where such a scene would fit? Now, you can always engage in the time-honored tradition of creating an entire new setting just to use that scene. Lord knows I have. But if you don’t want to spend months of your life to justify a music video, you can use a short story to get right to the good stuff.

There’s a bit of a trick to doing this well. When you’re just writing the intro, your story starts where a normal story would. If you are writing a longer tale that begins en medias res, you will have time to flesh out the mess the reader has been dropped into sight unseen. A short story that skips to the climax needs to be a little more helpful in establishing character, setting, and motivation during the action. This can be a pitfall, as the easiest way to do this is to just tell the reader explicitly. But that’s almost certainly going to be a “telling rather than showing” situation, which is frequently a no-no.

Methods for Starting in the Middle

The way I handle situations like this involves, first, writing all that awesome action and intrigue as though who, where, and why didn’t matter in the slightest. The why will usually work itself out along the way–rare is the person who’s doing something worthwhile that doesn’t at least hint about their reasons for doing it through their words or actions. And maybe that’s enough. “Who” can sometimes be as simple as “the protagonist” in the reader’s mind. And “where” doesn’t need to be more detailed than the descriptions peppered through the action.

When you’re done writing and give it a read through, though, you may find yourself wishing you knew a little more about this or that. Those questions (and only those questions) are the ones you should go back and hint at. Writing in this way gives you a very stripped down, efficient bit of action, and efficient writing is something that most stories can benefit from, so this in particular is good practice for your longer writing.

But if the action isn’t the thing that excites you about a project. What if it’s the idea? Well then…

Just the Concept Method

Kissing cousins with the idea of “Just the Intro” is “Just the Concept.” This is what I call my stories that hinge upon a character or idea so heavily that there isn’t even necessarily a plot. For example, one of my stories is nothing more than a few thousand words of data log from a space probe that’s launched in search of intelligent life. It would be an awfully dull story if I were to try to stretch this concept and structure out to a full-length novel, but for a few thousand words I am able to simply gather up all of the juiciest little quips and observations an artificial intelligence might have during such a mission.

Another common form the concept story takes for me is an interview with an interesting character. Like the Climax idea, this is good practice. A concentrated dose of character building can help teach you to deepen and widen the inner life and history of your characters in your novel-length works. Just write a conversation between two people wherein the characters chat about what makes one or both of them special. Worst case, you’ve textured a one-time-use character. Best case, you’ve assembled the skeleton of a new protagonist.

Re-Read, revise, and release!

If you use one of the methods and forms above, I’m confident you can produce something interesting and bite-sized in no time at all. All that remains now is to clean it up and send it out. I mentioned above that revision can extend the short story’s development time by a bit, but this is where things can wildly diverge. If you’re happy with the story being little more than a toy for your brain, a quick read-through, a pass with a spell-checker, and a reformat into an ebook or manuscript is all it might need.

For other works, you might find yourself carving minute facets into the jewel of the story and producing something worthy of submission to a magazine or anthology. You can spend as much time as you like in the post-production of a piece, but nothing matches the speed of the production itself when you’re working with short stories.

Try for yourself! The only thing you have to lose is an afternoon, and you might just get a killer short out of it!

Have you used any of these methods? Tell us about it in the comments.

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About Joseph

Joseph R. Lallo hails from Bayonne, NJ--the fabled birthplace of George R. R. Martin. He has written dozens of novels and novellas, including the international bestseller The Book of Deacon and the critically acclaimed Free-Wrench series. In addition to writing, he has helped run the Six Figure Authors podcast with Lindsay Buroker and Andrea Pearson. Find Joseph and his books on his website at bookofdeacon.com.

Top Image via Pixabay.