Writers in the Storm

By Janice Hardy

Why the right details can make a reader believe just about anything.

I watched The Martian again recently. If you haven’t seen it, it’s based on Andy Weir’s novel about an astronaut named Mark Watney who’s accidentally stranded on Mars and has to survive for years while NASA struggles to rescue him.

Near the end of the movie there’s a scene where Watney is driving a rover across the surface of Mars to reach a spot where he’ll hopefully be rescued, and I started thinking about how this guy was going to have so many speaking opportunities after this, and how his life would change.

And for just a fraction of an instant, I wondered if it was based on a real event.

Yep, you heard me. I wondered if the story set on Mars was real.

Luckily, I caught my doofiness right away and laughed. But honestly? That little brain-fart shows how well-written this movie was. It felt so real, so believable, that I literally forgot it was pure fiction.

And that, right there, folks, is the goal.

When you can make your reader forget they’re reading a made-up story, you’ve struck gold.

This isn’t the first time I’ve had this experience, either. Years ago, I was reading Max Brooks’ World War Z about the zombie war that nearly ended the human race. I was alone, at night, during a storm, and the book felt so authentic that even though I knew it was fiction, it didn’t feel like fiction.

It felt like I was reading a narrative history of an actual war against zombies.

Which is why it’s still one of my favorite books, ever.

Believability is all in the details.

What makes both The Martian and World War Z so good is that they built a rich and deep world around their stories. They focused on the oddly specific, yet perfect details that felt too real to be made up.

In The Martian it was:

• The running jokes about the disco music Watney is stuck listening to, because it’s all his commander left behind.
• The little “fun facts” about how growing crops means you colonized a place, and how he had now colonized Mars.
• The odd combination of international laws that meant he was, briefly, a space pirate.

These details made Watney feel like a real human stuck in a crappy situation. We see him use his dark sense of humor to deal with the incredible stress he was under, and how it helps him cope with the unimaginable.

And that makes us root for him.

It’s been a few years since I’ve read World War Z, so I don’t remember the specifics as well, but it resonated with me because of:

• The individual personal stories that focused on one tiny part of the zombie war, yet when combined, they told the whole story.
• The very credible way people and governments reacted to the situation.
• The matter-of-fact details such as how there was a northern line where zombies froze, and how teams of soldiers would stick flags in the snow when they found one, so clean-up crews could find and dispose of them after the war was over.

People reacted to a fake zombie war in ways that I could absolutely see happening in real life. Some were heroic, some were self-serving and awful, and some were just plain human.

And that’s the secret ingredient.

Our humanity is universal, and every reader recognizes it, no matter how wild the premise gets.

None of us has been stranded on Mars or lived through a zombie war. But we all know exactly what it looks like when someone cracks a joke to keep from falling apart, or saves their own skin at everyone else’s expense, or does something brave when no one’s watching.

That’s the part we believe. And once we believe the characters, we’ll follow them anywhere.

Which is why you want your details to be specific and wacky and unique to your characters.

And the best way to do that, is to show readers the quirky side of your characters’ humanity.

Because generic details strip away that common ground and turn your characters into the same old people readers see everywhere. They walk through the same “generic suburban America” or “default fantasy world #67” and act like every other character in those worlds.

You can tell readers your protagonist is:

• Scared, but resourceful
• Desperate and willing to do anything to survive
• Obsessed with the love of their life

But if readers don’t see those very real and very human details that support those generalities, you wind up with very forgettable characters and stories.

Specific details build the world and reveal the character all at the same time. One perfectly chosen, wacky and surprising, absolutely true-feeling detail beats a paragraph of generic description every single time.

This is especially handy for those of us writing in made-up worlds or off-the-wall premises, but it holds true for every writer, in every genre. The more believable your story feels, the easier it is for readers to lose themselves in it.

And just maybe, they’ll forget for a moment that what they’re reading isn’t real.

If you want to sharpen your description skills, you might want to check out my book, Understanding Show, Don’t Tell (And Really Getting It). It’ll help you find the best ways to show both your world and your characters’ quirks, so readers believe whatever tale you want to tell (or show).

And if you’d like more tips, sign up for my Narrative Nuggets list. It’s story-based writing advice delivered right to your inbox. And as a thank you for subscribing, you’ll get my book “25 Ways to Strengthen Your Novel Right Now” for free.

What books or movies made you forget they weren’t real?

About Janice:

Janice Hardy is the award-winning author of the teen fantasy trilogy The Healing Wars, including The Shifter, Blue Fire, and Darkfall from Balzer+Bray/Harper Collins. and the chapter books Who’s Haunting Who? and The Haunting of Cabin 13 for Lerner Publishing. For adults, she writes the Grace Harper urban fantasy series under the name, J.T. Hardy. When she’s not writing fiction, she runs the popular writing site Fiction University, and has written multiple books on writing, including Understanding Show, Don’t Tell (And Really Getting It), Plotting Your Novel: Ideas and Structure, and the Revising Your Novel: First Draft to Finished Draft series.

Featured image licensed from Depositphotos.

By Rick Eve

"No tears for the author, no tears for the reader."

This quote is often attributed to the great American poet, Robert Frost. That in itself is an inspiration for us writers to dig deep, to brave those icky emotions within ourselves.

Whether you’ve stuck the above reminder to the rim of your computer monitor, or you’ve already learned the lesson well, you’re done with writing the way you did four books ago.

The quote is occasionally expanded to "No surprise in the writer, no surprise in the reader."

Beyond the deep emotions we craft into the characters, we should be prepared for that moment when we, the author of this character’s life, exclaim to ourselves, “What the hell? Didn’t see that coming!”

Out of nowhere, you’ve experienced the story surprising the author. This is a good thing. It is not undiagnosed ADHD. This is not the red-chili burrito from lunch arguing with your intestines.

Suddenly, your fingers have followed the character down some path that wasn’t in the plan, not part of the original plot, and nowhere on the Save-the-Cat flowchart.

When Your Story Takes an Unexpected Turn

You could always just delete this wild idea, but you don’t. Instead, you wonder if this welcome surprise could become The Big Twist, and find a place in the story. Perhaps, it could expand this story-line into something more. Three pages in, and you sit back to consider how this could change everything. (And very likely, you’ll need to go back to the beginning to check for continuity issues that might arise from the unplanned plot-line.) And ten minutes later, you’ve finished an entire chapter that steers the plot into a hard left.

Here are three times my own stories completely surprised me.

Example #1: Discovering the Villain Wasn't the Villain

Three-quarters of the way into the book, the Victim and the Anti-hero/Protagonist are discussing why the murderous Villains could be so insanely homicidal. And to my surprise, a (then) secondary character reveals to them both that all of the Villains’ children are being poisoned, dying an excruciating death due to a cataclysmic ecological disaster. Yes, actually, the bad guys are just broken-hearted parents, doing what they can to save every child on their planet. To save their own species from extinction.

Well…shucks. That changes things. I mean, who wouldn’t do everything possible to save their child? And in a moment, the scope of the story tripled in size. The emotional presence sunk deep, making the highs so much higher.

Example #2: An Ending I Never Planned

In another book, about two-thirds in, a secondary character is bullying the Anti-hero, calling her out in front of the wide mirror in a crowded women’s restroom at a rock concert. Tearing her down. You furry-headed bimbo. Pretty? Maybe. But not quite pretty enough for him. Much later, I’m writing the very last chapter, downhill from the explosive climax, the Happily Ever After warming nicely in the reader’s heart. Almost done. Wrapping it up. And…Surprise!

The End. Nope. Not yet, you don’t. Anti-hero has a darker side, and it’s payback time.

In an entirely unplanned Extra Unhappy Ending, the Anti-hero has the Bathroom Bitch in a mental reverse hold. Our Anti-Hero creates a realm where the unlucky character is seated in a front of a French Provincial vanity, staring into the mirror, applying layer after layer of makeup, then scrubbing it off to start over. For all eternity. And when Bathroom Bitch has a rare moment of bravery, Anti-hero returns in person to remind her bully in the same evil whisper, “Not quite pretty enough.”

This surprise second ending above created a Big Twist which brought encouraging reviews for my top-selling YA SciFi.

Example #3: When the Villain's Baby Took Over the Story

My last example of being surprised while writing occurred when I was truly stuck. In the sequel, the plot required that the Villain (a cyborg) gets pregnant and gives birth. She did the former, and she’s in labor. Just in time for me to run out of story. Days go by with nothing typed, no ideas. Guess who arrives to save me. Yep, the baby. Still inside Mom, he’s already wide awake, learning quickly, and needs to take his first breath right now. But like me, he’s stuck and can’t get out. To his mother’s surprise (and mine) he literally claws his way out the front of her.

Well…damn. That hurt. And I’m now short one all-important villain. Even worse, he eats the nurse. Did I plan for that? No, I did not. Was that in the script? Did my story outline show ‘baby kills mom?’ No, and no.

And it was perfect.

Junior becomes a far more powerful and evil Villain than mom ever could, launching the last half of the story into an entirely new direction. Again, the story expanded beyond what I had originally hoped for. By the end of that writing day, there grew numerous new plot lines, memorable characters, more Big Twists, and opportunities for several more What the Hell moments for the reader.

Why I Didn't Delete the Scene

I could’ve written ‘baby rips his way out of mom’, and then deleted it. It’s gross and cruel.

However, I trusted the character knew what he was doing. I followed his line of reason, his psychopathic start to life. My concerns for this sequel turning out to be a sophomore effort vanished, as the story leapt onward from this one very unexpected moment. As for Cyborg Mom, I gave her a slight reprieve, allowing her consciousness to restart in another body. Though she was in no position to bother anyone, she became a window for the reader to glimpse new depths of evil on the horizon.

Trust the Story More Than the Outline

Typing away at Chapter Nine in what is now my eighth novel, I’ve got a long way to go. I do not have more than a cursory plot line. This is Book One of a planned five-book series, my first attempt at a character arc that must last for years. All I know is that I’m going to somehow kill off the main character in the second-to-last chapter of Book Four. Hopefully, she will have the decency to respect her Creator, and clue me in on just how the heck I’m supposed to bring her back for Book Five.

Final Thought: Surprise Me

Alright, young lady.

Surprise me.

Has one of your characters ever surprised you by taking the story in a direction you never planned? Tell us what happened in the comments.

About the Author

Rick Eve grew up in a family that read every SciFi book, watched every SciFi TV show, and attended every big-screen movie with aliens, space travel, or robots.

Mother loved to write, and Dad worked for a company that manufactured rockets and missiles. To write SciFi stories is just the natural progression, I believe.

With seven books to market now, there's a couple for Midgrade, a YA (my favorite), a hard-SciFi duology, and a SFF. The latest release is a Mystery with SciFi elements.

Born in Tucson, Arizona, he now resides just up the street in Marana. Married for thirty years, our youngest son is ready to move out on his own. A recent addition to the family is a little rescue mutt who alternates between naps and utter destruction. 

Photo by Alex Moliski on Unsplash

by Dr. Diana Stout

Without thinking about it, name your favorite go-to movie or book.

I bet it’s your favorite because of the main character. Because of the trials that character has to traverse, which make you cry, sigh, laugh, or have you holding your breath in anticipation. What makes them memorable?

I would guess that you either fell in love with them, could relate to their struggle, or admired their strength and ability to reach their goal despite the hardships; or, if they didn’t reach their goal, you respected their honor in their failing.

You felt emotional about this character. You felt like you knew them, or knew of their struggle because it was or is currently your struggle, too.

My favorite movie is Jane Austen’s Persuasion because I can relate to the struggle of the main character, Anne. She’s followed a life script others wanted for her (and still do), plus she spent her life trying to make everyone else happy. As a result, she never said no and doesn’t experience true happiness, until the end, when she finally says no and follows her own path.

Another go-to story for me is The Martian by Andrew Wier. An astronaut gets left on Mars after everyone believes he’s hit and blown away by debris and presumed dead. How could I relate to a survival story? Because he meets every dead-end problem straight on and finds solutions.

Why We Read Books and Go to the Movies

It’s no surprise we go to movies and read books to be entertained. Whether about surviving love lost, being lost, or feeling lost. But, it goes beyond entertainment. We want to know how they reach their goal after hitting rock bottom emotionally or physically. Or, how to survive toxic people or toxic situations. All stories fit into these broad classifications.

We love these characters because they overcome. Moving past situations or people, which in turn creates growth and inner joy.

One reviewer, writing about one of seven novellas in my Laurel Ridge romance series, said my characters felt real. “You can tell she's lived among her characters long enough to understand them yet still loves them enough to let them stumble. That blend of warmth and wit is rare. It's not just romance—it's restoration, the quiet work of forgiveness wrapped inside humor and longing.”

I felt their pain and laughed aloud at their antics. I wanted to run around with them and meet with them regularly. I wanted to party with them. I wanted our relationships to continue after the books’ publications. The characters were that real to me.

Have You Hurt Your Character Badly Enough?

To create a memorable character, they have to hurt emotionally and psychologically, to the point that their wound is exposed—to themself and to others in some form.

Exposing that wound represents danger. They’re afraid what others will think about them. That they could lose their job, the battle, their family, friends, everything important to them.

It’s that paralyzing fear of their wound being exposed that creates the conflict.

And, that’s what the Mirror Moment is about. This midpoint Mirror Moment occurs at the fifty percent mark and is the only major plot point where the flip comes from the character’s internal conflict—their wound and the lie they’ve been living. The other four major plot points (New Opportunity, Change of Plans, Major Setback, and Climax) deal with the external goal and external conflicts.

• For the first time, the character sees what they need to do, what they need to become. They recognize what they don’t want to be anymore. Oh, they still want to reach their original goal but not for the same reason as when they started. They’re realizing their morals matter more than their past behavior and beliefs.
• For the first time, they’re acknowledging the immense pain that’s been buried and being honest about themself. As much as they want that goal, they’re filled with doubt that they can reach it now. Confidence is at a new low. They can’t go back to what they used to be. That person doesn’t exist anymore. But, how can they go forward?
• The questions facing them in that mirror are: Can they become the person they want to be? Will anyone like them anymore? Will they fail?

This is where the audience's hearts are tugged. They’re strongly rooting for the character to succeed.

In Helping Others, They Sacrifice

From the Mirror Moment to the Climax, they try to become a better person. They try hard to change, but then they reach the Major Setback, that Do or Die moment, when they realize if they can’t save themselves, at least they can try to save everyone else. That’s the tieback to the Mirror Moment.

Without the Mirror Moment, that strong Major Setback and Climax can’t be reached. It’s about the internal change at the Mirror Moment that creates the external change of action, of behavior, that wins the day regardless of whether they succeed or fail. If they fail, they do so with honor, and that becomes a win. A strong win. A solid win.

That win—even in failure—is their crossover, their arc into becoming a better person.

How To Fix a Stalled Manuscript

What I’ve discovered from reviewing early manuscripts where I stopped at the sagging middle and by working with other writers suffering the same plight, is that in every situation the Major Setback or Climax plot point was sitting where the Mirror Moment should have been.

In essence, there was no Mirror Moment.

Moving the misplaced plot point forward to its proper place, opens up the entire second half of the second act and then some. I’ve seen it happen not only with my stories, but with the stories of writers and students I’ve coached.

Plot the Mirror Moment First

Now, whenever I start a new story, I immediately take the character’s goal and their wound and go to the Mirror Moment. This one plotting device works for pantsers, plotters, and planters alike.

• How does that wound affect their goal?
• How does their journey crash to rock bottom where the wound is totally exposed to this character as they look in the mirror, whether for real or a mental self-examination?
• Are the actions and decisions up to this point exposing the wound bit by bit?
• What must the character let go of in that mirror moment? What must they change internally, emotionally, and psychologically in order to do the right thing? To reach their goal, yet remain honorable?

The Big Shift

It’s not until the Major Setback that they fully acknowledge, there’s no saving the self anymore. It’s about saving everyone else or in coming clean. While it wasn’t fully expressed at the Mirror Moment, it’s fully expressed at the Major Setback, the entry into the final Act III.

That’s what the second part of the second act is all about—the journey toward the Major Setback.

It’s at the Major Setback where honor becomes more important than pride. Should they lose their goal, they’re willing to start anew, alone or with a team, and as someone willing to sacrifice.

From Ordinary to Extraordinary

We remember these characters because while they’re ordinary in the beginning, by the end of the story, they have become extraordinary. Memorable.

Their wound has been healed.

The best stories are where character wounds are deep and pushed down, hidden from view that even they don’t recognize that the wound has been driving their decisions until the day of the inciting incident, the day when their world first changes. The first time they’re facing their wound and quickly dismiss it.

Only at the Mirror Moment can they acknowledge the truth behind Inciting Incident and what it did but couldn’t name until now.

That’s how you prevent a sagging middle.

What has your experience with sagging middles been like? What is your favorite go-to story? What’s the underlying reason why it’s a favorite?

About Dr. Diana

She loves talking about writing, and she enjoys helping other writers. To that end, she’s created the Grammar and Punctuation Recuse Series. Short-read books: I Hate Commas Comma Book, and I Hate Helping Verbs are the first two books published, so far.

The second series, Finding Your Fire series, include Dr. Diana’s Toolkit to Better Writing, CPE: Characters, Plot, & Emotion, The 3 Secrets of Time Management and Eliminating Procrastination.

The author of Grendel’s Mother, a medieval story that gives voice to a famous character who was voiceless, Diana is a screenwriter, author, blogger, writing coach, and former university English professor of writing classes. An award-winning writer in multiple genres, one judge said, she’s "a writer to watch."

Earlier this year she published her first thriller, a split-time lake house story, Harbor House: Deadly Intentions. By the end of July, she will have published a second thriller, When the Walls Listen, and is publishing a third thriller, Buried Trash: A Shelby Hale Thriller, later this year.

To learn more, visit her website at sharpenedpencilsproductions.com.

Top image purchased from DepositPhotos.com