Writers in the Storm

Margie Lawson

Most writers know Show Don’t Tell, but sometimes they think they’re showing when they are telling.

Here’s my oh-so-easy check.

Read the sentence that you think SHOWS the reader something.

Ask yourself ---- What’s the Visual?

You may be surprised that the sentence doesn’t provide a visual.

Wondering why I care?

Wondering why I think you should care?

Most readers have a video playing in their mind of the scene they are reading.

If a writer TELLS instead of SHOWS, the reader’s screen goes blank. No imagery. No power.

When the writer TELLS, they’re sharing what the POV character is thinking. They’re intellectualizing for the POV character.

The writer is not putting the emotional power on the page.

TELLING:

He looked angry.

She seemed agreeable to the plan.

He made a face.

She didn’t say anything, but he could tell she was pleased.

He knew she was nervous.

She looked like she wanted to go with him.

 Jake seemed out of sorts.

If you’ve read one of my blogs before, or taken one of my online courses, or consumed one of my lecture packets, you know I always provide examples that support my teaching points.

Here comes the fun!

Example 1:

“Someone got hurt.”

She studied Susan’s face. “Are you okay?”

Whoops. What’s the visual?

We’re missing the subtext. We need to know Susan’s facial expression.

Example 2:

The POV character is watching Sam.

Sam moved around in an agitated manner.

What’s the visual?

Both parts of that short sentence are TELLING.

How did Sam move?

How does the POV character know Sam is agitated?

What’s his facial expression?

Example 3:

 Mike is the POV character.

Traci seemed upset. “I need to leave.”

Mike touched Traci’s arm. “Don’t leave. We need to talk.”

What’s the Visual?  Mike touched Traci’s arm, but the reader doesn’t know how Mike can tell Traci is upset.

The writer could SHOW, and share subtext, with Traci’s actions or face or voice.

Writers don’t need to add SHOWING to every sentence or paragraph. But many sentences need those visuals. They share the emotion, hook the reader.

Now we’ll dig deeper into some complex examples. 

The Ones We Trust, Kimberly Belle, 4-time Immersion-Grad

First Example from Kimberly Belle

Kimberly Belle could have written:

Dad nodded, but I knew he was still upset.

But this is what she wrote:

Dad nods at me over the top of his menu, but his forehead doesn’t clear. His eyes don’t unsquint. The general is a man who misses nothing, including, according to his scowl, the reason behind my non-reply.

Deep Editing Analysis:

            Slipped in a hint of setting: 

• over the top of the menu

            Showing What’s Not Happening: 

• his forehead doesn’t clear
• his eyes don’t unsquint

Power Internalizations:

• the general is a man who misses nothing
• the reason behind my non-reply

Compelling Cadence

Everything shares subtext and deepens characterization.

Second Example from Kimberly Belle

Kimberly Belle could have written:

Dad let go of his anger.

But this is what she wrote:

Dad leans in, and everything about him softens. His posture, his expression, his ten-hut tone.

Deep Editing Analysis: 

            Shows Dad softening: his posture, his face, his voice

            Second sentence is a frag. Works well.

            Rhetorical Device: Anaphora – Triple Beginnings

• His posture, his expression, his ten-hut tone

Rhetorical Device:  Asyndeton – No and after last comma

• His posture, his expression, his ten-hut tone

Character-Themed – Her Dad was a General

• his ten-hut tone

Compelling Cadence 

Third Example from Kimberly Belle

Kimberly Belle could have written:

“Things you don’t want to understand.”

But this is what she wrote:

His expression is like a sluice, locked down tighter than the White House during a terrorist threat. “Things you don’t want to understand.”

Deep Editing Analysis:

            She gave the reader a facial expression, amplified.

            Rhetorical Device:  Simile

•  like a sluice

Character-Themed --  Her Dad was a General.

• locked down tighter than the White House during a terrorist threat.

            Power Words:  Words that carry psychological power.

• sluice, locked down, tighter, terrorist, threat

The Curse of Tenth Grave, Darynda Jones, NYT Bestseller, 2-time Immersion-Grad

 Empowered Example from Darynda Jones

Darynda Jones could have just written one sentence:

He gave me his full attention.

But this is what she wrote:

He finally gave me his full attention. He put down the pen he’d been holding and sat back in his chair. The movement was so small, so every day, and yet it sent a tiny rush of excitement spiraling over my skin.

He’d rolled up his sleeves, exposing his corded forearms. His strong hands. His long, capable fingers.

He noticed me noticing for sure that time, but instead of reaching out to me, instead of inviting me into his personal space, he waited. He simply waited. For me to speak? For me to act? I had no idea which, so I went with the former.

“Yeah, so, for this plan to work, we are going to need a dozen syringes, a case of nitrous oxide, a serial killer, and a tank.”

I included more paragraphs than needed, but I wanted to share Darynda’s awesome line of dialogue.  :-)

Deep Editing Analysis:

            Showing, Amplified, many times.

            First Paragraph:

Telling:

• Gave full attention

            Showing:

• Put down pen
• Sat back in chair

Telling – Carried psychological power

• small movement
• so everyday

Stimulus/Response:

• Stimulus – all the Telling and Showing above
• Response – Visceral -- a tiny rush of excitement spiraling over my skin

Second Paragraph:

• Action -- rolling up sleeves
• Clear Visual – forearms, hands, fingers

Third Paragraph:

• Showing What’s Not Happening
• Power Internalizations

Fourth Paragraph – Power-packed dialogue – lots of power words, backloaded with tank.

Days Made of  Glass, Laura Drake, RITA Winner, 2-time Immersion-Grad, Cruising Writers Grad 

SHOWING example from Laura Drake.

This Expanded Time scene is one of my all time favorites, by any author.

Harlie, a closet thrill-seeker, runs into an arena to save a Pomeranian from a stampeding bull.

The sweet rush of adrenaline hit her like a heroin-mainlining junkie. It sang through her veins, lifting her, making her impervious—superhuman. She sped up, heart thundering in her ears—or maybe that was bull’s hooves.

Everything seemed to slow. Details stood out in perfect focus: the shine of spit on the dog’s bared teeth, the whorl of hair at the center of the bull’s forehead, a small scar next to its white-filled eye.

In full stride, Harlie reached the center of the arena, snatched the now cowering fur ball by the nape and kept moving. The ground shook with pounding hooves. She tensed her muscles for impact, but felt only a sliding rub of horn on her butt and the rush of air at her back as the bull passed. Clutching the suicidal mutt in a death grip, Harlie sprinted for the fence.

She’d taken only a couple of steps when the panicked yells of the onlookers penetrated the swelling adrenaline chorus in her head. Harlie didn’t have to look. She knew bulls. The animal had wheeled, and from the vibrations in the soles of her fancy cowgirl boots, was bearing down to gore her.

No time. She heaved the dog toward the red-faced men on the opposite side of the fence.  Her brain registered a stop-action photo of the little dog flying through the air, hair blown back, mouth open.

She hadn’t known dogs had an expression for terrified but this one sure did. It hit the ground running and streaked for the line of boots at the fence.

Harlie spun on her heel. The bull was farther away than she’d guessed, but closing fast. She shot a glance to the fence. It seemed as if she were seeing it through the wrong end of a telescope. A bull will beat a human in a race, every time. She’d never make it.

No choice.

Tension zinged through her. The timing had to be just right. Failure would come in the form of lunging horns and bone-snapping hooves. Head down, the bull came on.

Decision made, the fear in Harlie’s chest lay down before a rising exaltation of knowing. Crouched in a marathon runner’s stance, she shook the jitters out of her hands and gauged the bull’s closing speed.

One more step –

Harlie exploded, launching herself straight at the bull.

She took two long-jumper strides.

The bull charged in, lowering its head to hook her.

On the third stride, perfectly timed, her foot came down in the center of the bull’s broad forehead. He threw his head up and she was launched, flying over the beast’s back.

It seemed she rose forever, her stomach dropping, shooting the sparkly fireworks of a roller coaster’s first hill. A quiet, high-pitched sound escaped her lips. It might have been a giggle.

When the arc finally began its downward tail, Harlie looked for a place to land.

Awesome example of showing visuals, and how to write a powerful expanded time scene. 

Thank you for dropping by WITS blog today.

Please chime in and share your thoughts on What’s the Visual?

Or just click in and say Hi. Let me know you’re here.

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1. Lecture Packet from Margie Lawson

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My WITS blog for April had over 200 posts!

I doubled the drawings and we had four winners.

If the avalanche of comments on this blog WOW me, I’ll double the winners again.

The drawings will be Sunday, 9:00 p.m. Mountain Time.

Check out the courses offered by Lawson Writer's Academy. 

1. Revision Boot Camp – May 16 – June 15, registration is still open!

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2. Create Compelling Characters  – Starts June 1

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3. Writing Compelling Scenes  --  Starts June 1

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4. How to Write Dialogue with a Psychological Punch  -- Starts June 1  http://bit.ly/PowerDialogue

5. Pinterest for Authors -- Starts June 1

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6. Virtues, Vices, and Plots  -- Starts June 1

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Margie Lawson—editor, international presenter—teaches writers how to use her psychologically-based editing systems and deep editing techniques to create page turners. Margie has presented over ninety full day master classes for writers in the U.S., Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and on cruises in the Caribbean.

To learn about Lawson Writer’s Academy, Margie’s 4-day Immersion Master Classes (in Denver, Washington, D.C., Phoenix, Canyon Lake, Dallas, San Jose, Albuquerque, Australia, and more), her full day Master Class presentations, on-line courses, lecture packets, and newsletter, please visit www.margielawson.com.

I love WITS! A big THANK YOU to the uber-fun and uber-talented WITS bloggers!

 

 Mari Ann Stefanelli

Blazing fear woke me. Suffocating, I sucked and clawed at the air. A cardiac intensive care nurse held my hand, murmuring it’s ok, it’s ok, you’re on a ventilator, remember?

My doctors told me I should never have gotten endocarditis, a potentially fatal bacterial infection that attacks the heart. Endocarditis is uncommon in people with healthy hearts, I read on mayoclinic.org.

I had a healthy heart. Until––

• In 1999, two months after my daughter was born, my mother was diagnosed with gall bladder cancer––a death sentence.
• Days later, postpartum depression set in.
• We moved closer to my mother.
• I quit working and quit writing.
• I got pregnant with my second child, a son.
• In December 2001, my mother died.
• Four months later, during my son’s birth, his head came out but his shoulders were stuck. Two nurses jumped on top of me and jackhammered my abdomen to force him out. I was certain we would die. My husband grabbed my hand, saying it will be okay.
• Seven days after his birth, my son was hospitalized and placed on IV antibiotics. His penis was infected from a circumcision I didn’t want him to have.
• In the hospital, I held my son for the next seven days and prayed, while a maddening rash blistered my body. The most powerful antibiotic in existence conquered his infection, and we returned home.

As a writer, I considered sharing all the pain, loss, and fear I’d experienced in less than three years. Start a blog. Grieve. But I remembered my mom telling me, “When I was diagnosed with cancer, I never asked ‘why me?’ I thought, ‘why not me?’” If she had found grace and dignity to face death, couldn’t I pull myself together to face life?

I became a human trash compactor, piling my emotional offal into a heart-shaped chamber, pushing, stomping, and crushing it into semi-submission for almost a decade. And like a handy can of Lysol, a smile and laugh were my camouflage. Odd illnesses vexed me and perplexed my doctors, and I knew buried emotions were poisoning me. Still, the fear of reliving––perhaps really living––that pain was unthinkable. But the urge to write lingered.

While I vacuumed, swept the floor, or showered, entire passages skittered through my brain, and I wanted to write about how postpartum depression had torn me from my baby girl, how my mother’s death came when I most needed her, how close I’d come to losing my infant son––and perhaps myself. Instead, I wrote a restaurant review.

In 2009, I realized I didn’t want to feel, but I did want to write. I joined the venerable Atlanta Writers Club. I was shocked when my halfhearted efforts rewarded me. The first workshop I attended was the acclaimed author Jessica Handler’s “Writing through Grief,” where I sobbed as I wrote the first words of my memoir. At another workshop, I talked with Jedwin Smith, an author and former journalist twice nominated for a Pulitzer. I thought, wouldn’t it be wonderful to have a friend like Jedwin? Later, a top-notch literary agent requested a book proposal. The writing life beckoned, but I wavered.

In September 2010, I came down with a 103.5° fever, debilitating chills, and a constant river of sweat. I saw two doctors in two weeks; both misdiagnosed me. When my heart began to hurt, I saw my cardiologist.

Within an hour, I was diagnosed with endocarditis; ultrasound pics showed bacteria attached to my heart’s mitral valve. Two weeks’ unfettered access to an all-they-could-eat-heart-buffet made them huge, like kelp. Six weeks of powerful IV antibiotics killed the kelp, although big holes remained.

Two months later, I had open-heart surgery to repair the damage. My heart was stopped and sliced open; a heart-lung machine breathed for me and oxygenated my blood. I woke up on a ventilator. It was as frightening as it sounds, but in three days I was home­­––and my heart was healed.

In 2011, Jedwin Smith offered a writers’ workshop three miles from my home. I registered and made up my mind: I was a writer, and I was going to revel in all life’s pain and glory. Classmates soon became friends. One nominated me for a fellowship to attend a retreat taught by the renowned author and writing coach Rosemary Daniell. Others asked me to review their work. Jedwin showed me I had an aptitude for editing and helped me turn that into a career.

Buoyed with love and encouragement, I wanted to share this joy with other struggling writers. I asked the general manager of my favorite vacation spot, “Wouldn’t it be great to have a writers’ retreat here?”

“Yes!” he said. “And the owner knows Winston Groom––the Forrest Gump author. We’ll invite him.”

Wow.

In 2015, I launched The Writer’s High Retreat™, with Winston Groom as the guest of honor. Jedwin and Rosemary agreed to speak. Rosemary invited her dear friends Pat Conroy and Cassandra King. Pat had another commitment, but Cassandra, another of my literary heroes, said yes. I emailed Kimberly Brock, telling her how much I had admired her debut novel, The River Witch. Would she consider presenting at my debut retreat? Yes.

At the retreat, Kimberly’s presentation startled me. “To tell the stories of our hearts, we must face what we fear most. Those are the only stories worth telling.”

That’s it!

To tell the stories of our hearts, we writers must face our fear. Fear will steal your breath and suffocate you until you remember––it’s only an impediment: a ventilator for me, something else for you. Sometimes, all we need is one person who will hold our hand at a panicked moment and remind us, it will be okay. OKAY doesn’t mean we can change the past or bring back loved ones or get rid of disease––it means while we have breath, there is hope. Kimberly told us hope is the gift of all stories.

If your story is locked in your heart, there is a writing community waiting to embrace you. It may be online, it may be bricks and mortar, or it may be something you create yourself. It can change your life. It can open your heart.

No surgery required.

Your turn, WITS readers - what odd gifts has life given you that have helped you write?

 *  *  *  *

Mari Ann Stefanelli

 Mari Ann Stefanelli has loved writing since she could grasp a pencil. Originally from Gainesville, Florida, she graduated from the University of Florida with a bachelor’s degree in public relations and had a fabulous career in that field. In 2015, a series of epiphanies spurred her to launch her writing and editing business, The Writer’s High™, LLC. She also launched The Writer’s High Retreat ™, which debuted in April 2015, to share with others the joy she’s found in writing. Mari Ann lives with her husband and children and high-maintenance rescued mutt in the Southeast where, with the sun as her muse, she’s writing a memoir about lies, love, and open-heart surgery. Mari Ann can be reached at mariann.stefanelli@gmail.com, http://www.twitter.com/thewritershigh

http://thewritershigh.com, and http://www.facebook.com/thewritershigh.

 

Kate Moretti

In 2012, I published my debut novel with Red Adept Publishing. I had no idea how much my life would change. As a result of this book, I’ve written four additional books, I’m starting my fifth. MY FIFTH. When I say it out loud, it feels crazy to me.

Writing is now part of my job. I still keep a day job, but I’ve pared down to part time to give some time to my family. On Monday and Friday mornings, I sit in a quiet office at a computer and write down as many words as I can. Some of those words are related to my manuscript.

But precious few.

Why? Because as a published writer, the demands on your time triple. Quadruple. Whatever comes after quadruple. I had no idea it would be like this: that I would eventually end up spending more time being busy than actually writing. I call it all “writing-related”, and it’s true, but never before have I needed such self-discipline.

A few months ago, I wrote a post here called How to Get Out of the Dreaded Slump. The last bullet of this post was about setting limits and this really seemed to resonate with people: it’s the thing I still battle with every. Single. Day. I have four things that kill my time. They are necessary, they are part of this job. They detract from writing, but I wouldn’t have a career without them. They still need to be kept in check.

1. Social Media
O.M.G. I could tell you to unplug. I could tell you to limit it to one hour a day. I could tell you pick one and focus on it. We all know that none of us are doing that. We’re here to stay: on Facebook, on Twitter, on Instagram, on Goodreads. But here’s the thing: you have to find a manageable middle ground. Yes, my name is Kate and I am addicted to social media. I love it. I adore it. Sometimes it causes me physical pain (let’s blame the election). I could (and have!) dither away a day and have nothing to show for it at the end. If you string two days together like this (or more), you’re sinking fast. Here’s what I’ve done: I’ve picked a few communities on Facebook to focus on. Mine happens to be Tall Poppies, Great Thoughts and WFWA. I learned to use Tweetdeck and I make lists of people who I interact with. If people interact with me or they make me laugh they get listed. I ignore my feed. I post to my author page and try to get back to reply to comments. I tweet sporadically. I scroll through Instagram once a day (this is not a hardship, I LOVE Instagram). Social media, for me IS FUN. It must be controlled. Find what works for you and be vigilant with yourself. Check in throughout the day, but if you find your eyes glazing over and your scroll finger getting tired, back away from the computer. Go for a walk.

2. Blurbs
It seems like the moment your book is released, you start getting requests from other authors to read and blurb their book. Good news: people only tend to approach authors whose book they loved so, congratulations, you have a fan! It’s good juju to reach back and pull your friends up with you. But the sad fact is, blurbs don’t do a ton for the author or the blurber. And even sadder? They do almost nothing if you don’t share readership. I have science fiction author friends. I love them. They’re great people and good writers. Most women’s fiction readers do not delve into science fiction. For me to take a few days to read and blurb their book does nothing special for them: their readers have no idea who I am. They’re not impressed if I say it’s wonderful, no matter how many bestselling statuses I get. The exception to this is, of course, the mega giants: Stephen King, Danielle Steele. (Ahem, they’re not reading this post – they’re TOO BUSY!) If I say yes to this, I’m throwing away precious hours. I’m sorry. I love them, I do, but I have to say no. I will tweet and share their book and help in any other way I can. Say yes to blurbs that are in your genre, from authors you respect or want to know about, when you have the time to do so. Don’t say yes to every blurb.

3. Blog Posts
Like this one! I love writing for WITS because there’s such a robust community here. I get to meet new people, the comments section is always, always thriving. But, here’s the tough truth: anyone can have a blog. It’s true. I know it’s tempting to write a lot of content for precious little in the name of getting some air time, but unless the blog has a following, a community, or a recognizable name (Huffpost, Writer’s Digest, Writers in the Storm), I’ve really started to limit the amount of content I’ll write. Especially for free! Be selective about who and what you write for. Work on building a community with certain bloggers and focus your energies there. Writing thirty posts about craft for thirty different book bloggers nets you nothing but cramped fingers and a tired brain. And then when that big ticket publication comes calling, you’ll have maxed out all your blog ideas!

4. Emails/messages/correspondence
For me, this is my biggest time suck. I like to chat with other writers online. I like Facebook messenger. I like email. I like to hash out plot ideas and help others do the same. It’s not a time suck, it’s part of “the job”. In this job, I have no coworkers. No water cooler, no coffee room. Facebook messenger is my break room (there is no free chocolate here). That being said, if I left it unchecked, it would – and has – invaded my To-Do list. Everything is so instant now! There are people who really believe you need to respond a text message in under a few minutes or it’s rude. As though we’re sitting across the table from each other. I resist this theory. I will not stop talking to someone in person, ever, to answer a text message unless it’s from my husband or my house is on fire. I’ve had to explain this to A LOT of people in my life. These are my limits and not everyone will be happy with them.

5. All the other:
Phone calls. Events. Signings. Making cute little bookmarks and cards and business cards and postcards. Going to other author events. Meeting your social media friends in person. Meeting your editor, your agent, in person. Hustling for reviews. Thanking reviewers. Writing thank you cards. Writing up panel pitches. Appearing on panels at festivals and conferences. Developing workshops. Teaching workshops. Going to book clubs. Planning book club questions. GOING TO THE POST OFFICE, FOR THE LOVE OF DARK CHOCOLATE. The list is truly endless. Only you can determine what you do, what you forgo (for now), what you focus on at once. You cannot, and should not try to, do it all at the same time. Your priorities can and should change on a regular basis. For me, right now, while my kids are little, I do very little in-person events. A handful of signings a year, a con here or there. Because of that, I know very few local writers. In 2017, I’d like to get more seated in the local community, so it’s become a goal. Make priority lists and when something pops up (and it will, daily) that is not on your priority list, say “No, thank you not at this time”. You do not owe people an explanation. Be gracious, be humble. Be kind. But be firm in your no. I can’t tell you which things to focus on but I can tell you to not focus at all will burn you out. I have a friend who does not travel. I have a friend who does not blurb. I have a friend who does not do social media. I’m not saying you have to have absolutes like this, but if you are reading this it’s because you have not learned how to say “No, that’s not right for me at this time. But thank you so much for thinking of me.”

Here’s the thing: once you set limits, not everyone will be happy with you. THIS IS OKAY. PLEASE KNOW THAT THIS IS OKAY. Nothing has taught me this lesson more than being a writer. It’s been a huge growth phase for me. I have accidentally ignored people, made selective choices in who I spend a lot of time talking to, I have said no. I try to never, ever be rude or ungrateful. But sometimes, and I do think this is more a female thing, we try so so hard to make people like us. We will literally sacrifice our career at the altar of “like us please like us”.

The only way through the busy-ness and onto the business is to find your inner Sally Field and shut her up. With dark chocolate.

What is your biggest time suck? Any tips on how you control it?

 *  *  *  * 

About Kate

Kate Moretti is the New York Times Bestselling author of the women’s fiction novel, Thought I Knew You. Her second novel Binds That Tie was released in March 2014. She lives in Pennsylvania with her husband, two kids, and a dog. She’s worked in the pharmaceutical industry for ten years as a scientist, and has been an avid fiction reader her entire life.

She enjoys traveling and cooking, although with two kids, a day job, and writing, she doesn’t get to do those things as much as she’d like. Her lifelong dream is to buy an old house with a secret passageway.

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