During those weeks when you're juggling a lot of commitments, especially for writing parents whose kids are out of school, writing-life balance is freaking hard to achieve.
I got some perspective from a very unexpected source recently. I got my epiphany at work.
One of my day job hats is adult education with a group of accountants. You wouldn't think an accounting firm would be a hotbed of sexy thought-provoking concepts... But in the seven years I've been working with them, I've learned more about writing and work-life balance than I ever expected to know.
This quote came up in a prep session for Not-For-Profit Corporations:
Imagine life as a game in which you are juggling five balls in the air. You name them – work, family, health, friends, and spirit – and you’re keeping all of these in the air. You will soon understand that work is a rubber ball. If you drop it, it will bounce back.
But the other four balls – family, health, friends, and spirit – are made of glass. If you drop one of these, they will be irrevocably scuffed, marked, nicked, damaged, or even shattered. They will never be the same.
You must understand that and strive for balance in your life.
~ Brian Dyson (b. 1935) CEO of Coca-Cola Enterprises
I've had Dyson's quote on my mind ever since.
I can't tell you what a freeing concept "work as a rubber ball" was for me, after the many times I've gone far past my limits when it comes to work. So many of us have the notion that the "work" ball defines us more than the other four. It doesn't! I know it doesn't. But like the rest of you, I am still a work in progress.
James Patterson was also inspired and used this quote in his bestselling book, Suzanne's Diary for Nicholas. And if that isn't enough magnificence about "the balls," check out this video (watching this guy juggle mesmerized me and made me tired).
Incidentally, here's the quote that headlined the Not-For-Profit workshop I mentioned above -- it mirrors our philosophy here at WITS:
You can't live a perfect day without doing something for someone who will never be able to repay you. ~ John Wooden
Here are a few more gems on writing life balance, from other writers who know way more than I do:
Now go forth, y'all, and enjoy all the parts of your life to the fullest this summer. You've got this.
What are your thoughts on the "five balls?" Do you have a quote that you live by? How are you at achieving a good work-life balance? We'd love to hear about it down in the comments!
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About Jenny Hansen
By day, Jenny provides training and social media marketing for an accounting firm. By night she writes humor, memoir, women’s fiction and short stories. After 18+ years as a corporate software trainer, she’s delighted to sit down while she works.
Dialogue—good dialogue—is tricky. Mechanics can be learned; the rules are readily available and are hammered into us by teachers, editors, critique partners, and countless Facebook memes. The hard part of writing good dialogue is nailing the back-and-forth, the natural ebb and flow that turns dialogue into convincing conversation.
This is the part that will make or break you with readers. They’re intimately familiar with conversation; it’s how they communicate, how they connect with others. As a result, when a bit of dialogue falls flat or doesn’t ring true, it’s like an off-pitch violin sawing away in an otherwise harmonious orchestra.
So how do we make our characters’ discussions sound authentic? One way is to showcase what they’re hiding. In the real world, we’re rarely 100% honest in our communications with others. It may not be conscious, but we’re always withholding something—hiding how we feel about a subject, suppressing information, agreeing with someone when in actuality we don’t agree with them at all...Much of the time, we’re only telling part of the truth.
This will be true of your character, too, and for his dialogue to resonate with readers, you need to be able to show what he’s repressing. To discover this, you first need to know what he’s hoping to get out of the discussion.
When a person engages in conversation, they do so with a certain objective in mind (even if it’s subconscious). When you identify that goal for your character, you’ll know what they’ll be likely to hold back. So ask yourself: Which of the following outcomes is my character trying to achieve with this conversation?
Connecting with others
Getting information
Giving information
Persuading someone to one’s way of thinking
Being affirmed or agreed with
Gaining an advantage
Being proven right
Getting attention
Gaining an ally or advantageous contact
Once you know what your character wants, it’s a matter of figuring out what they might be holding back during that exchange. Consider the usual suspects:
Emotions
Feelings are largely what make us human. We connect emotionally with others, so being able to accurately communicate our feelings is important. But emotions also make us vulnerable, so in many scenarios, your character may think it’s in her best interest to mask what she’s feeling. If she’s attracted to someone, she may downplay that until she can see how the other person feels. Sadness is often perceived as weakness, so she might not be willing to put that on display. The same is true with fear. Personality also plays a part in how your character conveys emotion, so take all this into consideration when you’re determining which feelings your character is comfortable with and which ones she’s likely to whitewash.
Opinions
We all have opinions about stuff, and we like to share them. But we’re also social creatures, wanting to be accepted by others. Sometimes, those two desires are at cross purposes, meaning we can’t both share our opinions and connect with people. This is why your character might not be entirely forthcoming about his true beliefs at a job interview, on a first date, when he’s meeting his future in-laws, at church, or in any other situation where doing so could undermine his goal in that moment.
Personality Traits
Strengths and weakness commingle to form our individual personalities: we’re patient but selfish, generous but impulsive, irresponsible but encouraging. Our strengths are easy to show off because they make us look good. But weaknesses? While we know that everyone has them, we don’t want people to know what they are. So we hide the traits we deem as being less valuable, the ones that could hurt our standing with others. Maybe it’s a flaw that isn’t appreciated in society, like cruelty or intolerance. Perhaps it’s something an important person in our life doesn’t value, like a father who can’t stand indecisiveness, or a grandparent who viewed generous people as being suckers. It may not be a conscious decision, but we all highlight our admirable traits and hide the ones that make us look bad. The same should be true of our characters.
Information
Rarely do we reveal everything we know. Communication very often is about the give and take of information, so unlike some of the other things we might hide, this one is usually more purposeful. Our characters should play their cards close to the vest, not sharing information that could hurt them, make them feel uncomfortable, or impede their goals. They may choose to hold an important tidbit back until they have a better feel for how the conversation is going or where the other person stands. Information is always currency; in dialogue, it should be doled out carefully and thoughtfully.
Knowing what your character wants out of a conversation and what he’s going to hide while engaging in it will help you write dialogue that rings true, because readers will see themselves in those ambiguous moments. Granted, there’s a knack to writing the inconsistency between your character’s words and what they really think or feel. That’s a post in and of itself. For now, this tip sheet has some great advice on how to write subterfuge in dialogue. (HINT: There are more checklists like this at One Stop For Writers!)
What else might our characters hold back in their conversations? And what other common goals can we add to this list?
About Becca
Becca Puglisi is an international speaker, writing coach, and bestselling author of The Emotion Thesaurus and its sequels. Her books are available in five languages, are sourced by US universities, and are used by novelists, screenwriters, editors, and psychologists around the world. She is passionate about learning and sharing her knowledge with others through her Writers Helping Writers blog and via One Stop For Writers—a powerhouse online library created to help writers elevate their storytelling. You can find Becca online at both of these spots, as well as on Facebook and Twitter.
I’m working on a new novel, so I’ve been deep in the brainstorming and planning. In an effort to boost my productivity, I did something a little differently this time that could benefit other writers. I’ve added an extra “story clarification” line to my template. It’s a way to remind myself what I want my readers to wonder about in every scene that will make them want to read that scene—and turn the page to the next scene.
For you pantsers out there—this might not be a technique that fits your drafting process, but it would probably help in your revision process. It’s a handy way to double check if your story and plot are working to draw your reader into the novel.
I’m definitely Team Outliner, and like to have my plot worked out before I ever start writing. I used multiple templates at various stages of the process, and the final one is to summarize the entire book scene by scene. I usually write one or two paragraphs that cover what the scene is about and what happens in it.
At the end of those summaries, I’ve added this line:
Goal: x Motivation: x Conflict: x Stakes: x Hand-off: x
Although this might seem like the classic plot structure, I skew the focus toward readers. It’s not so much, “what’s the protagonist’s goal,” but, “what is the protagonist doing that will pique a reader’s curiosity?” What about the goal will cause my reader to wonder what happens next.
It’s also a good reminder of what I want for the scene and helps keep me focused on the “behind the scenes” aspects of storytelling. If I want readers to wonder why my protagonist is acting nervous, I’ll need to give her reasons to be nervous—and then show that nervousness in the scene.
Let’s take a closer look at how this works:
Goal:What’s the protagonist doing that readers will be interested in? I’ve found this slightly different perspective on the “what’s the goal?” question allows me to clarify why a reader would want to read about whatever my protagonist is doing. I ask myself, “Am I just stating the goal and the outcome is obvious, or am I leaving enough mystery to pique a reader’s curiosity?” If the outcome of the goal is predictable, there’s little for readers to wonder about—or care about—to want to read on. If I can’t say why they’d want to read this scene, I know it needs more thought.
Motivation:Why would readers care that the protagonist is doing this? The reasons behind an action are usually far more interesting to readers than the action itself. They love the characters and want to know what’s going on in their heads. I like to clarify what about the protagonist’s motivations will capture reader interest and empathy. Will they feel for this character? Will they want to see if she gets what she needs or wants? It’s an answer to that harsh, but useful question: “So what?”
Conflict:What’s keeping the problem interesting and unpredictable for readers? This goes hand in hand with the goal—now that I have readers curious about what the protagonist is trying to do, and they’re curious as to why, then I determine if the problem preventing that action is interesting. Since conflict is such a key factor in keeping readers hooked, I like to know that whatever I’m throwing at my protagonist is a challenge worth reading about. Will readers worry that the protagonist might fail or it is obvious she won’t? Will they want to see how the protagonist resolves this conflict? Are there any ethical or moral questions in the conflict that will make readers think? Should there be?
Stakes:What will make readers worry that the protagonist might fail? Consequences raise the tension, which makes everything feel more immediate and gripping. Seeing what could be the protagonist’s downfall, or what might cause trouble is more interesting than just knowing “if she fails she dies.” It’s like watching the killer sneak up on the unsuspecting victim versus the killer jumping out of nowhere with no warning. One creates worry and tension, the other does not. I also like to find ways to slip in consequences for an action even if the protagonist succeeds—how will this scene change things for the protagonist? What will readers worry about because of the events in this scene?
Hand-off:What’s going to make readers want to keep reading? This is the biggest helper of the bunch, because this leads directly to the next scene in a way that should make readers want to turn the page. I like to know what will trigger the next scene. What happens at the end of the scene that will create a goal or conflict to drive the plot forward? What will readers want to see happen, or fear might happen, or want to see the resolution to?
Some of these piece will be stronger than others in any given scene based on what the scene’s purpose is. A highly charged emotional scene will likely make readers wonder more about motivations or stakes, while an action-packed scene will probably have stronger goal or conflict questions. Not every scene needs to have a strong “reader wonder” in every aspect, but if the scene is missing a lot of them, that’s a red flag there’s trouble with the scene.
I’m still in the experimental stages with this, but so far, it’s working well. I’ve caught holes I know would have tripped me up during the first-draft stage, and I’ve been able to add compelling hooks for readers right from the start. I suspect this draft will be much easier to write since every scene is leading the reader forward on multiple levels.
It’s easy to get lost in the plot mechanics of a story and lose sight of why readers would care in the first place, but wondering, “what happens next?” is the biggest reason readers stick with us. They care about what’s going on in our stories and want to see if their guesses or assumptions are true. Reminding ourselves to write in that “reader wonder” from the start can save us a lot of revision time and help us craft cleaner, more compelling first drafts.
Do you think about what readers will wonder about? Do you plan for it or does it happen naturally?
