Robin Blakely’s recent Writers in the Storm post, “Mid-Year Goal Checkup,” had a subtitle of “It’s Not Too Late to Redirect Yourself,” and a first heading of, “You know the write answer: Redirect. Rewrite. Recommit.”
As I started reading it, I found myself laughing because of my current project, Harbor House: Deadly Intentions. Everything she described I had been going through!
I was ready to publish three different times; but, each time realized what I was trying to do wasn’t working.
In the beginning, there were two stories connected by family and location, separated by one hundred years.
While the first story had been published on its own earlier, it was okay; but, teamed with the second, newer story, not so much. The problem: the two stories were in different but similar genres.
The books’ origins
Harbor House: Say You Will
Created in the summer of 2023, this story was for an anthology of historical novellas as a fund-raising event for a romance writer’s group I belong to, and was to be published in November. Instead, it was published April 2024 in the Unlock My Heart anthology (now out of print).
The story was an 11,000-word Gothic romance novella, set during the bootlegging 1920s in northern Lake Huron and the small Michigan coastal community of Sinclair on Drummond Island and a much smaller private island nearby: Harbor House Island. Both Sinclair and the Island had been developed by Margaret Sinclair’s lumber baron grandfather, George Sinclair.
Harbor House: Last Blood
While awaiting the Gothic’s publication, I got the idea to write a follow-up book, a psychological thriller, using the same family and the same location but 100 years later.
This story became a 56,000-word psychological thriller novel featuring thirty-year-old Detroit librarian, Hunter Marshall, who receives an ancestor website membership that includes her DNA as a birthday gift, discovering she’s adopted and has inherited the family lumber business that’s still operational, along with Harbor House, its island, and an unsolved crime associated with the house and the family.
The process is going great so far
In mid-May 2024, I began journaling the thriller’s characters, digging deep into their internal conflicts and plotting the story with Post-it notes and a storyboard. Three weeks later, I was typing up a 22-page outline.
In June, I wrote the first draft, a 42,000-word manuscript of mostly dialogue and action. I doubted I’d make my self-imposed October deadline because there were too many clues to flesh out and more emotional layering and editing to do.
By mid-November, I was ready to publish the two books, but because of the upcoming holidays, I decided to wait until January to publish.
In January, a potential agent crossed my path. I submitted and had to wait six weeks. In the sixth week, another agent crossed my path, so I began waiting another six weeks.
And then, the pain began
While waiting, I started reading both books, to proof them one more time.
An uh-oh moment arrived. It fast became an oh dear realization.
Stupidly, I hadn’t read the Gothic since its 2024 publication. It needed revising. There was too much telling in the beginning. Plus, Margaret didn’t have much of a wound that left her conflicted.
If I were honest with myself, the first book didn’t measure up to the second one. It didn’t have the same intensity. It would end up a DNF if I didn’t fix it, let alone anyone continuing to the second book, the thriller.
Additionally, they couldn’t be published separately as a duology. They’d have to be published as a collection: separate stories but together in one book. I spent a couple weeks reformatting and editing and sat down to read it again.
Another uh-oh moment. This format was a mistake because the same problem existed, plus there was still too much telling. The history of the first story was important to the second story. How could I incorporate the history without having to tell it? How could I show it without losing the reader?
The aha moment – the Redirect
Going to sleep that night, I gave my subconscious the task of solving the problem. The next morning, I had the answer: a split-in-time book.
The plan (revised) – the Rewrite
So, now, I’ve blended and melded the two stories together and removed the telling. The past is now shown at key junctures and heightened because of the thriller. I’m still in the process of polishing and proofing. A major review and beta readers will reveal if I did what I intended.
The lesson – the Recommit
The story knew better that I did on what it needed. I’ve learned that every story, every book, whether fiction or non-fiction, has its own process. I just need to listen.
As a result, I’m ecstatic about the story all over again. I’ve got another self-imposed October publishing date, though I strongly suspect I’ll miss it. Hopefully, it’ll be published before Christmas.
Wish me luck!
Is there a book or series of books you feel like could use a little redirecting? I'd love to hear about it in the comments.
About Dr. Diana
At the time Diana was getting unstuck with Harbor House: Deadly Intentions described above, she was teaching her Finding Your Writing Fire class, which centered on helping profoundly stuck students get unstuck. By the middle of the second week, they announced they were happily writing again!
An award-winning writer and former English writing professor, Diana is a screenwriter and author, writing fiction and nonfiction, including a cookbook, how-to writing resources books, and blogging about her paranormal experiences. To learn more, visit her website, especially her Recommend Reading page if you’re interested in finding great books and blogs about writing.
To learn more about the writing process she teaches and uses to keep from getting stuck, check out her Finding Your Fire series books: Finding Your Fire & Keeping It Hot, and Character, Plot, & Emotion: the Three Foundational Pillars of Storytelling and its companion workbook.
Think about this for a second: “Normal” is nothing more than cultural brainwashing.
Now, I’m not getting all conspiracy theoristy on you. I don’t think our society has been engineered by dark forces meant to erase our brains. (Reality TV did that. Dark forces were not necessary.)
What I mean is that for a long time, there were only so many media outlets in the world. TV was originally broadcast on three major networks, and everyone listened to the same radio. Even after channels multiplied (thank you, cable TV, Netflix, and the internet), most content was still only made by a small group of people. Movies and TV are expensive and take a lot of specialized talent, equipment, and money, so only certain groups can make them. That’s even true today, as content has democratized and expanded.
Welcome to California
Here’s a question: Have you ever noticed how many movies are set (not just shot) in California?
That happens because the people who make movies primarily live in California, so they’re best able to write what they know. It’s not sinister; it’s just a fact of human nature. It’s the reason more of my protagonists are middle-class straight cis white guys than anything else: because I’m a middle-class straight cis white guy. That doesn’t happen because I’m trying to push a viewpoint or agenda. It happens because like most writers, I draw most easily and naturally from the world I know.
If you knew nothing about the United States except what you saw in movies and TV, you might think that most Americans live in California, since so many movies and TV shows are set there. You might think that California took up half of the North American land mass, seeing as relatively few movies are set anywhere else.
I’m sure there’s been some deliberate manipulation of TV and movies, but my maybe-naive belief is that most of our media’s historically homogenous portrayal of the world comes from laziness and complacency, not evil intent. I think that most creators just wake up in the morning and write the world they see around them, because it’s their world. And then, because the film and TV industry broadcasts that vision of that world, it starts to seem like it must be everyone else’s world, too.
Normal isn't always normal.
In other words, “normal” isn’t actually the norm. It’s more like a lopsided delusion. When we think of “normal,” we’re talking about what we think the world looks like … and a lot of our “looks like” is created by the media we consume — media that was written by a group of people who aren’t remotely the majority.
What we call “normal” is actually the worldview of a tiny minority who just so happen to have massive reach. Ten people in a Hollywood office work together to write a movie filled with people like themselves, doing things they do, surrounded by activities they enjoy, responding to things in the way their mothers and families always responded to things, aspiring to goals that make sense to them. Then that movie becomes a blockbuster, and everyone thinks that version of life is just “how things are.”
I was forty before I finally understood something my father kept trying to tell me: that 1950s America wasn’t anything like Leave it to Beaver or Mister Ed. Nope. Those were just versions of life and values held by the small group of people who made decisions in TV at the time. Sure, there were people like that … but it was far from everyone.
Different is the New Normal
I’ve taken you down this philosophical rabbit hole for one reason:
Think about what we consider “normal,” along with all the pressures in the world — both overt and subtle — to conform to that normality.
Now, remember that if “normal” is actually the worldview of a minority with a disproportionately huge reach, that means “abnormal” people actually outnumber them. Weirdly, “abnormal” is more normal than “normal.” Remember what Lewis said in Revenge of the Nerds? “We have news for the beautiful people: There’s a lot more of us than there are of you.”
Normal is a lie. By the numbers, the most “normal” thing you can be is atypical.
This matters to you as an Artisan Author because the Artisan ethos is all about being unique. It’s about operating with a different flavor than the norm. If readers want mainstream, they know exactly where to find it. If they want something different — something off the beaten path, told in a different way — they come to us. It’s our duty to give them that difference — to be brave enough to show them our way of peering through the looking glass.
All these years, everyone outside of our culture’s definition of “normal” has been ignored and underserved. That’s great news for you, if you’re weird. If you’ve got a freak flag in your back pocket, then by all means get out there and fly it. There are audiences all over the world who’ve been waiting breathlessly for a worldview that better matches their own than the mainstream. All those people will see your outside-the-nine-dots books as a breath of fresh air … but only if you’ve got the guts to go out there and be yourself.
From Weirdo to Bestseller
Want an example of how “different’ can be an advantage for you as an author — especially one who markets and sells your books in the ways this book talks about? Okay, sure — I’ve got one all ready for you.
Exhibit A: Chuck Tingle.
I won’t list Chuck’s book titles because this is a family blog, but do yourself a favor and look him up. I laughed so hard at his early books because it seemed he was walking a fine line between erotica and winking hilarity, and I couldn’t tell which side he was on.
But then one day, I saw a book by the author of Scary Stories to Tingle Your Butt and Handsome Sentient Bubblegum Who Is Also a Successful Landscape Architect in all of the bookstores around me. Suddenly good ol’ Chuck’s got a horror book called Bury Your Gays running up the bestseller charts.
I’m telling you, man: There are bestsellers-in-waiting out there in the oddest places.
If you’re far outside society’s usual nine dots, you’ve actually got an advantage on this one. If you’re more like me, though, you’re a lot closer to the mainstream and won’t stand out as easily as that aforementioned breath of fresh air. Fortunately, you don’t need to be far off center to find your own special tribe. Every author’s style is unique, if the author lets it be unique.
Where do you fit?
I used to back away from making the constant 80s and 90s references that find their way into my books. They were funny to me, but I figured a lot of people would either never get them or find them annoying. Then I realized it was more tiring and less fun to try to be mainstream than to just leave it alone, so I started letting me be me.
I used to wonder why I kept shooting myself in the foot by creating books that didn’t cleanly appeal to any of the major genres. I mean, who was Unicorn Western for — western fans, or fantasy fans? Who was The Future of Sex for — sci-fi fans skeeved out by the hard-R rating, or hard-R readers who didn’t appreciate the intense sci-fi? And forget about the several humor/erotica titles Sean and I had so much fun writing, the best of which was Adult Video. Who the hell were those books for?
Well, they were for me and Sean, of course. We loved all of them.
They were for my wife, who laughed until she cried reading Adult Video.
And they were for the folks here and there who emailed to tell me or to request more of the same.
Were there a lot of those people?
Nope.
Were there some?
Yep.
And those some — who hung in there through every one of my freak-flag books — have historically been my best and most loyal fans.
If You Try To Please Everyone, You’ll End Up Pleasing No One
If you write a book meant to please as many people as possible in the mass-market audience, you’ll have to take out all the edgy stuff that makes it different. To write a book with maximally broad appeal, you’ll have to smooth it out and make it bland, like unflavored ice cream. Giving a book any strong flavor at all means limiting its appeal … but it also means strengthening its appeal to the smaller number of people who like it.
The fans of Unicorn Western, The Future of Sex, and Adult Video don’t just like those books. They LOVE those books. They RAVE about those books. They become superfans. They jump whole-hog into my world because I gave them something that nobody else could.
An Artisan Author must be bold. Bolder than other authors, who are, in themselves, pretty bold. An Artisan Author has to be bold enough to say, “You know all those people out there who are brave enough to put their creative work on the line for all the world to see? Well, I’m going to be different from them. They’re outsiders, but I’m going to be an outsider even among the outsiders.”
Being an outsider isn’t a bad thing. In practice, it’s an amazing thing. Because the truth is that even if you’re alone among authors, you’re not actually alone. There’s a whole tribe of readers out there who’ve been waiting for something only you can deliver.
Nobody else can be you. Nobody can duplicate what you uniquely offer.
It’s your cheat code, and using it can be terrifying … but isn’t that true of all real creation.
QUESTION: Have you ever risked “being fully yourself” in your books? What happened if you did?
This is based on an excerpt from the book The Artisan Author, available now.
Whether you’re starting your novel or you’re shoulder-deep in revisions, snacks, and wine, knowing when to hit Enter can take your writing from meh to manuscript-ready.
Paragraphs aren’t just for spacing. They’re for storytelling. A single line break can shift focus, change pacing, or land an emotional hit. The right paragraph tells the reader where to breathe, what to feel, and when to pay attention.
Used well, paragraphing isn’t just structure. It’s voice. It’s rhythm. It’s power. So how do you know when to actually hit Enter? Let’s break it down.
The Art of White Space
Reading a giant paragraph that goes on forever—sometimes pages!—feels like trying to find your black SUV in a parking garage full of black SUVs. Exhausting. Disorienting. And honestly? Many readers won’t even try. They’ll skim and miss potentially important information or some great prose.
Here’s the secret: The words might be the same, but how you break them up changes everything.
White space is more than just aesthetics. It’s a psychological trick that tells your reader, “Hey, this isn’t hard. It’s fun.” Without white space, even great writing feels dense. With it, your story flows. And your reader stays engaged.
A rule of thumb is 4-6 sentences depending on how long they are and what you’re trying to say.
Here’s a visual example:
The Strength of a Stand-Alone Sentence
Stand-alone sentences scream “Notice me!” Use them to set something off, get the reader’s attention, build tension or emotion, highlight a change in story or character direction, or deliver a punchline you’ve been setting up in the scene or story.
The Rule of Clarity
Keep a character’s speech, actions, body language, expressions, and thoughts together unless it gets too long. This makes it easier for the reader to know who’s speaking and doing the action.
Out with the old. In with the new. The rule used to be new speaker = new paragraph. But that doesn’t give you ideal clarity. The better rule is change of focus = new paragraph.
Change of Speaker
While we’re expanding the paragraphing rules, the old still stands. Every time someone different has dialogue, you need to paragraph.
Example:
“I’ll be back by curfew.” My sister breezes past, repeating the lie she’s told me all week.
“You know liars go to hell, right?” Aidan calls her out when I don’t.
“Be sure to save me a seat up front.” She shoves her phone into the back pocket of her dark gray jeans and tugs up the hood of her black sweatshirt.
Different Characters Performing Actions Without Dialogue
Example:
Jerry slammed his hands on the table.
Paul whirled around.
Change of Physical Focus
This can be inside to outside, to another room, or to another person.
Example:
Outside, the SUV inched forward.
Unease slithered through my gut. I tugged my phone from the waistband of my candy-cane flannels and rubbed my thumb across the dark screen. I could call Dad. But if I ruined the last day of the only vacation he and my mother had taken in ten years, she’d make me pay for the next five.
Dealing with Dialogue
Readers should never have to guess who’s talking.
Simple tags can be your friends
“Said” is invisible magic that works when you need something quick. It also helps differentiate when you have a fast back-and-forth between two characters. And you don’t need to keep using it once you’ve established who’s first in the exchange. However, if the conversation goes on a while with no other “speaker” cues, you’ll need to stick it in every so often.
Example:
“I like you,” she said.
“You do?”
“I do.”
“Absolutely.”
“Why?” he asked.
Beware the adverb parade
Example:
“I have to have that candy bar,” I whined loudly. “Fine!” Ella angrily cried.
Your editor’s soul just died a little. It’s better to show how someone’s speaking than to slap on these kinds of descriptions.
Example:
“I have to have that candy bar.” I dragged the last word out like it might change her mind.
“Fine!” Ella’s voice was sharp enough to cut glass. “Take it.”
Use action beats
Make the action do double duty and tell the reader who’s speaking.
Example:
“I have to have that candy bar.” I clutched it to my chest.
“Fine! Take it.” Ella threw up her hands and stalked away.
Try internal thought
This only works for your point-of-view character because we, as the reader, can only be in one person’s head at a time.
Example:
“Stay.” It’s sounds like I’m begging. Maybe I am.
Leaning into the car, Claire throws my backpack into the passenger seat. “Matt needs me.”
Right. Whatever. Because apparently, I don’t. “Just go then.”
*A note about punctuation.
Use quotation marks for what people say out loud, NOT what they’re thinking.
Example:
“Hey, let’s catch that movie.” (dialogue)
We should catch that movie. (internal thought)
Side Note: Avoid using words like thought and wondered when possible. They are filter words that pull the reader out of deep point-of-view.
Example:
I thought she looked pretty in that dress. / She looked pretty in that dress.
Use a comma and a lowercase letter with a dialogue tag.
Example:
“I’m in,” she said.
Use a period and a capital letter with everything else.
Example:
“I’m in.” She grabbed her bag. (action)
“Don’t do that.” Her voice rose. (dialogue cue that’s not a tag like said)
“Sure. I can do that.” Not gonna happen. (internal thought)
Use an em dash for interruptions.
Example (cutting someone off):
“I just think—” “Don’t think,” she snapped.
Example (interrupting dialogue in the middle):
Old school: (commas) “I think,” she said, “you should go.”
New School: (em dashes) “I think”—she looked away—“you should go.”
Note that the em dashes go OUTSIDE of the parentheses, and you don’t use a comma.
(Two hyphens + no space before next word = em dash magic.)
Final Thoughts
With smart paragraphing, your story has room to breathe and so does the reader. Paragraph with purpose. Because clean, intentional writing doesn’t just keep readers reading—it keeps them feeling. And that’s the goal, right?
What’s your paragraphing pet peeve or your favorite line-break power move? Drop it in the comments!
About Lori
Lori Freeland wrote her first story at age five. It wasn’t good, but it left her with the belief that everyone has a story to tell. An author, editor, and writing coach, she writes everything from articles to novels, has taught at conferences across the country, and helped many new writers find their voices. A mood reader, she loves happy endings, thrills and chills, unexpected twists, and anything a little weird—as long as it has a touch of romance. When she’s not curled up on the couch with her husband and her dog drinking too much coffee, you can find her messing with the lives of the imaginary people living inside her head.
lafreeland.com (inspirational blog & resources for writers)
The Accidental Boyfriend was an Amazon #1 New Release, a ReaderViews Bronze Award Winner, and a Publisher’s Weekly BookLife Prize Finalist.
Jess is everything Gabe wants. Gabe is everything Jess doesn’t know she needs. After celebrity heartthrob Gabe unknowingly hijacks homeschooled Jess’s first kiss, he decides she could be the perfect decoy to throw off the paparazzi. If he can convince her to play his girlfriend of the week. Keeping the impossible promise he made his mom depends on it. Only Jess isn’t about to be anyone’s fangirl and wants nothing to with TV's hottest hairball or his Hollywood ego.
