Writers in the Storm

by Sarah (Sally) Hamer

Are you in the throes of NaNoWriMo? Of course, it has just started at the time you'll be reading this, but early days are often the most important, because how you handle them makes a huge difference as to how far you get. Otherwise, it's like Matthew Reilly's quote, "We didn't come this far just to come this far." Or, maybe even a better quote from the Cheshire Cat, "If you don't know where you're going, any road will get you there." (Lewis Carroll)

So, where are you going? Whether or not you're in NaNo this month, the question still stands. Don't get me wrong, writing for the sake of writing is one of the most healthy things we can do, IMHO. Some people are not and never will be writers, but they're not the ones who will be reading blogs on Writers in the Storm's website. But, for those of us who cannot NOT write, anything that comes out of our brains can be beneficial. 

It's also a good thing to have words go together in a coherent and useful manner. After all, most of us really do want to take the right road and complete a story. But just writing doesn't always make that happen.

So, the questions we can ask ourselves are pretty darned simple. It's the answers that can get us to thinking:

What are you writing about? 

I'm not talking characters or plot but, instead, how theme is the heart of a book. It's a word that often strikes fear in a writer's heart because most of us just want to write a story. But finding the real reason for that story can make all the difference as to whether it makes sense to anyone else. Take Frank Herbert's Dune books. It's about a future universe of war and avarice, spice and addiction, and desert vs. water planets. But the theme is how a boy, whose family and life is destroyed by a maniacal emperor, matures and, ultimately, grows into a maniacal ruler himself. The books lead us from innocence to a growing understanding of how choices made for the "right" reason can lead to unbearably "wrong" consequences. And, love it or hate it, Dune gives us a theme that resonates across history. 

Why are you writing about what you're writing about? 

We write what we know. Each of us is deeply engrained into our own history and how we got to this point. So, we write about different aspects of ourselves. I often have students tell me that "I could never kill anyone!" But we can certainly write stories where a character does just that. Sometimes in brutal, horrific fashion. So, why do we write stories about shame or fear or hate? It's because we have that facet within in us. No one can be all good or bad – there are always layers and polarities and balances going on. The brilliance of this for a writer is that we can pull on the traits we consider negative to express stories with truthful, believable characters because, although we may never act on those parts of us, we have them within us.

Do we have to know the theme before we start writing? 

No. Not at all. Sometimes I have absolutely no idea what I'm going to be writing about before I start. It's just a character I find interesting who has gotten him or herself into a bind and I'm trying to figure a way to get them out. Theme often grows as the book does, twisting and turning until I have enough knowledge about what I want to say to let me unravel it. Then, I go back and tweak the places in the story that need to have theme. But it does make it easier to know where you're going first. 

What if I have no idea what my themes are? 

I have a "built-in" theme, as I believe most people do, which is pretty much the same for almost every story I've ever written, so it's usually not too much of a problem for me. But not everyone knows the theme "of their heart." So I suggest that worrying about it is not the best route to figuring it out. Examine your own stories. Is there a particular commonality? What books/movies do you like? What is the underlying idea? What draws you to those stories? What makes you feel good/uplifted about them? That’s usually the theme.

Still have no clue? Read more about it in "Finding Your Story's Theme.

Bottom line

Theme is the backbone of a story, with all of the other aspects – character, plot, pacing, action, goals, etc. – wrapping around it like the muscles, nerves, and flesh of a fully-articulated body. And, whether we're writing like fiends to get 50,000 words down in a month or not, theme can sit in the back of our brains and guide us through the stories we want to tell.

When do you know what your story's theme is? What is the theme of your current WIP?

Important Note from the WITS Team

Did you get this post in your email box? WITS is updating the way we send out our updates. To make sure that you don't miss any updates, click here.

About Sally

Sarah (Sally) Hamer, B.S., MLA, is a lover of books, a teacher of writers, and a believer in a good story. Most of all, she is eternally fascinated by people and how they 'tick'. She’s passionate about helping people tell their own stories, whether through fiction or through memoir. Writing in many genres - mystery, science fiction, fantasy, romance, medieval history, non-fiction – she has won awards at both local and national levels, including two Golden Heart finals.

A teacher of memoir, beginning and advanced creative fiction writing, and screenwriting at Louisiana State University in Shreveport for over twenty years, she also teaches online for Margie Lawson at www.margielawson.com and hosts symposiums at www.mindpotential.org. Find her at info@mindpotential.org.

By Dr. Diana Stout, with Llewella Forgie

Receiving and giving critiques is an important writing step, especially for new writers. Belonging to a critique group is one of the fastest ways you can grow and improve your writing. Not only do you receive feedback, but you can learn by reading and critiquing the writings of others. 

I’m often asked by writers if they should get an MFA degree, wondering if it would help their writing. It’s one way to receive (and give) critiques, but an MFA can be costly and requires three years of your time. A major plus is it’s a terminal degree—equal to a Ph.D. in other fields—meaning you can then teach writing classes at the university level. 

Critique Groups Operate the Same

From my critique experiences as an MFA graduate, having been in several critique groups outside of the classroom, and having started a critique group at the request of a nationally named bookstore, I can tell you that all of these critique groups operate the same way.

Manuscripts are exchanged, comments are written on the copies shared at the previous meeting—whether electronically or as hard copies. And then, the manuscripts are returned to the author after comments and opinions have been expressed at the meeting. 

My MFA classes generally had 8-12 students, where each student would present a different manuscript several times during the semester for critiques. The problem I had with the class critiques is that we wrote for different genres, thus their feedback didn’t always apply to my genre. Generally, I was writing commercial stories while they wrote literary stories. 

One such example was when I had drafted a short story where the students agreed I was using an incorrect story structure, a structure I had purposefully chosen. The professor told them that my story, “Bread Pudding,” was an example of a recipe story, where each ingredient became a metaphor for the events of the elderly woman’s life, thus many of their comments became invalid. 

Likewise, even a small critique group made up of individuals writing in different genres can be problematic.

At the same time, having different genres can provide different perspectives or a detour from normal standards and can offer a learning/growth opportunity for all members.

Are You a Good Fit?

Getting a good critique is a lot like looking for a marriage partner. Typically, that means you want critique partners who write in your genre or who have a good knowledge of it. Also, you want critique partners who are at your level of writing. 

For example, an advanced group made up of published writers doesn’t want to be spending their time teaching a new writer. Nor does an advanced writer want to be in a group of novice writers, otherwise, they’ll be teaching and receiving little in the way of a critique.

So, how can you find a critique partner or critique group? Start a small group with two or three other writers or find a group that will let you join. Before you commit to any partner, however, you may want to vet each other to determine if you’ll be a good fit for your genre and your level of writing.

How Two Critique Groups Vet New Members

While talking with a group of writers who belong to my accountability write-in group, (a topic I wrote about in August 2024, “Accountability Can Be a Writer’s Best Tool”), one of our members, Llewella Forgie, told us how her group was looking for a new critique partner to replace a member who had left. Their three-step process is amazing.

Their process eliminates taking a chance on a writer who could prove to be a huge detriment later, even if that person is known to one or more of them.

Forgie states that when she joined an existing children’s book critique group, the group had dealt with an earlier, uncomfortable situation where the writer turned out not to be a good fit. Consequently, the group created a new policy to protect the group—provisional membership. 

Forgie attended her first meeting as a provisional member. Nothing was guaranteed at that point. As a result of her demeanor and contributions to the critiquing, she was invited to join. She had shown them that she would be a good fit for the group.

Since then, she has joined a second critique group and both groups now use this multi-step process when admitting a writer into their midst.

The Multi-step Process

Step One

Prospective members provide a writing sample. It’s an attempt to eliminate new writers who require far more teaching assistance than the groups want to provide. The groups want writers who match their skill level. While individuals within the groups don’t mind helping new writers outside of the critique group, they prefer skilled writers for their critiques. A writing sample quickly reveals a writer’s skill set.

Step Two

Writers who pass Step One are invited to a meeting. The purpose is to discover if the writer’s personality will be a good fit for the group. While a writer can have top-notch writing skills, if their personality isn’t a good match, the results can be disastrous. I’ve seen wonderful groups dissolve because a new member came in with unknown toxic behaviors, thus disrupting the dynamics. 

Step Three

The provisional member attends the meeting, reads and critiques submitted work like everyone else. This step is crucial, allowing the group to see how the new member provides criticism and how they respond to criticism. 

A writer who takes criticism personally or becomes defensive won’t be a good fit. Additionally, the provisional member needs to provide decent feedback, otherwise the group isn’t benefitting. A writer who offers nothing useful won’t be a good fit for the group.

In Summary

These three steps are how organizations hire personnel these days. Provisional with a trial period. 

It makes sense, then, for critique groups or even individuals looking for a partner to operate the same way. These provisional trial steps can prevent a group from being torn apart. So, what can you do when wanting to start a group or join an existing one?

1. Find an individual or group who shares your genre.
2. Exchange pages or a chapter to determine if your writing skill sets are similar.
3. Meet in person or on Zoom and chat for a brief time to see if your critique goals are similar. 
4. At the first in-person meeting, exchange verbal feedback with a return of your comments in their manuscripts.
5. And then, if all goes well, set up your guidelines for both future critiques and the meetings.

If at any point you discover right away that it doesn’t feel like a good fit, it’s easy to back away and try again elsewhere or with different writers.

What has been your experience with critique groups? Great? Not so great? Disastrous? 

Does this three-step process make sense to you? Would you ever start a critique group using it? Does it make looking for a critique partner a bit easier?

Important Note from the WITS Team

Did you get this post in your email box? WITS is updating the way we send out our updates. To make sure that you don't miss any updates, click here.

About Diana 

 Dr. Diana Stout finds joy in helping other writers and is working on her fourth resource guide for her Finding Your Fire series. Early this year, she published books two and three: CPE: Character, Plot, & Emotionand its companion book, the CPE Workbook, that show how character, plot, and emotion are three equal pillars of storytelling. Writers love the chart that compares the terminology of several storytelling experts and their plot point positions. 

Michael Hauge states that “Diana brilliantly reveals and edifies the uniquely powerful principles of plot and character.”

To learn more about Diana, visit her Sharpened Pencils Productions website and check out her Recommended Reading page where she provides links to books and articles that have helped her become a better writer.

About Llewella

When Llewella was young, her father read her the Oz books, the Narnia books, The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Her family watched PBS costume dramas and murder mysteries on television together. In college she began attending Science Fiction conventions. All that comes together in her writing, as she writes fantasies set in historical times that involve stopping criminals.

Llewella has a Bachelors in English Literature and a Masters in Teaching. She has been called an “amazing editor” and also “a 21st century Maxwell Perkins.” She was one of a few developmental editors for the anthology Turning Points by Off Campus Writers’ Workshop which came out in June 2021, and she reprised that role for the anthology Meaningful Conflicts: The Art of Friction, also by OCWW, which came out in April 2023. Both anthologies have been finalists for awards.To learn more about Llewella, visit her Llewella Forgie website.

by Sandy Vaile

Writing fiction that immerses readers in the setting and actions is a subtle skill that transforms mediocre narratives into memorable stories. But what kinds of descriptions make a story world feel real without slowing the pace?

In The Art of Fiction by John Gardner, he argues that appealing to multiple senses rather than just visual description draws readers into a scene more fully, and they get to experience the world firsthand, so the narrative becomes more dynamic.

Whether you're describing sweeping landscapes, epic fantasy worlds, intricate character movements or tense emotional drama, there are six techniques to create vivid descriptions without falling into dull lists.

Six powerful description techniques 

1. Replace tired clichés with fresh imagery. 
2. Engage all five senses. 
3. Avoid description dumps that slow the pace. 
4. Revitalise descriptions through movement. 
5. Choose meaningful details that add depth. 
6. Choose emotive verbs that affect readers.  

#1 Replace Tired Clichés with Fresh Imagery  

A cliché is a commonly used phrase or opinion. 

We use them all the time in life because they are a communication shortcut and others immediately understand what we mean. But relying on them in fiction comes across as not bothering to put any effort into fresh descriptions. 

Examples of Clichés 

• Cold as ice;
• Butterflies in the stomach; 
• Cut the air like a knife; 
• Lump in her throat; and 
• Black as night. 

To make descriptions fresh and meaningful, consider: 

• The underlying emotion or viewpoint.
• Making descriptions specific to the Point of View character. 
• Choosing one meaningful detail rather than multiple descriptive words. 
• How to use metaphors and similes to change existing clichés. 

Evokative Metaphors and Similes

Metaphors and similes are useful for comparing two things that are not related, creating a fresh and vivid image in the readers mind. They are symbolic likenesses to objects, actions or emotions. Aim not only to make comparisons that describe something but also let them reveal more about the character and their mood.

Examples of Fresh Descriptions 

Cliché - Instead of ‘cold as ice’ try: as cool as a tombstone under a winter’s sky. 

Cliché - Instead of ‘cut the air like a knife’ try: the atmosphere was taut like a bowstring, ready to snap and hit me in the face. 

Metaphor – Love is a battlefield. Or, That runner is a machine. 

Simile - His smile flickered like the dying light of a candle in the wind. Or, As fast as a cheetah. 

#2 Engage All Five Senses

Don’t forget to utilise all of the senses to create multifaceted descriptions. (Not necessarily all in one paragraph.) It’s easy to rely on what characters see, but when you fully immerse yourself in a scene there will be sounds, smells, textures and tastes that can add richness to the reader experience. 

Compare these descriptions:

• Lily wandered through the shadowy forest, the soil damp beneath her feet. (A dark, damp forest is realistic but it’s been done a million times before.) 
• Lilly picked her way between tall pines and over gnarled roots hiding in the forest shadows. The cool air was welcome after the burning sun and brought with it the scent of crushed pine needles and damp soil. (We’ve livened this description up by focusing on specific features of the forest and engaging the character’s sense of smell and feel, to help readers picture this forest.) 

#3 Avoid Description Dumps that Slow the Pace 

When we stop the story to include a large chunk of description in one place, it’s the same as an ‘information dump’. It slows the pace by diverting the reader’s focus from what’s going on in the story. 

While I appreciate beautiful descriptions as much as the next person, when there’s too much in one place it can weigh the story down with unnecessary images of things that aren’t important to the character or plot. By the time readers get back to the action, they might have forgotten the thrill of anticipation they’d felt before. 

This detracts from the energy of the story and is particularly problematic if it happens during a high-stakes or action scene. Effective pacing relies on balancing description with action and dialogue.

#4 Revitalise Descriptions Through Movement

It can be tempting to have characters arrive at locations, and then use narration to describe everything they see. The problem with this approach is that readers tend to lose interest after you’ve listed a few items, no matter how eloquent the prose or vivid the imagery. Worst case scenario, it sounds like a list and totally kills the pace.

Example of Listed Descriptors 

Sue surveyed the sad street with uneven paving along the footpaths, shabby houses with colourful hydrangea bushes out front and driveways filled with weeds.

Not too bad, but readers may feel like they are sitting in their living room, eyes closed, trying to picture the scene you are describing. But it’s not the same as being there and getting to see, hear and smell the street for themselves. 

Instead of halting the story to insert description and list everything they can see, it’s far more immersive when characters move through and interact with their surroundings, enabling readers to learn about the story world  organically, through the characters senses. 

Comparison of Immersive Description 

Sue wandered along the paved footpath, careful not to trip on the tangle of weeds that pushed bricks up here and there, and peered into a yard that was overrun with hydrangea bushes being strangled by kikuyu grass. It was like her childhood memories; only vaguly familiar on the surface. One tentative step at a time she followed the meandering length of an uncoiled hose that snaked along the cracked driveway, pausing to right a forlorn tricycle that had been tipped on its side and forgotten, and brushing flakes of rust from her fingers.

Putting the character in motion gives us more scope to make this description relevant to who she is and what she’s doing in the story. It invites readers into this run down neighbourhood, allowing them to experience what’s in it through the mind and senses of the character, and their perspective of the world around them.  

#5 Choose Meaningful Details that Add Depth 

When choosing which details to include in a description, consider what would have meaning to the point of view character and/or plot. 

Your descriptive choices should go further than what can be seen and:

• Reflect the story’s tone and themes. 
• Reveal character traits, personality, emotional state, motivation and past. 

Rather than randomly assigning a red dress to a character, consider her lifestyle, beliefs and preferences.

• A horticulturalist might wear a floral dress. 
• A vivacious actress might wear a red dress with ruffled sleeves. 
• A woman who is self-conscious about a scar on her arm might choose a long-sleeved dress. 

Let’s look at how we can build on a basic scene and layer in meaningful details that are indicative of the scene you want to portray. 

Example of Layering Meaningful Details   

• Let’s start with a simple description – Matthew stepped into the parlour he hadn’t seen in years. 
• Then get the character interacting with the environment - Matthew stepped into the parlour he hadn’t seen since he was a child and brushed a thick layer of dust from the surface of the coffee table.
• And add meaningful details – Matthew stepped into the parlour he hadn’t seen since he was a child and held his breath as a rush of memories and the scent of decay assaulted him. He trailed a finger through a thick layer of dust on the coffee table, leaving a river of glossy teak in its wake. 

#6 Choose Emotive Verbs that Affect Readers 

When we deliberately choose emotive descriptive words it:

• Reduces our reliance on adverbs and multiple adjectives.
• Tightens descriptions so they are immersive yet succinct.
• Supports the mood in the scene to build atmosphere.

Examples of Emotive Verbs 

• Replace adverbs with specific verbs  - Instead of she walked slowly across the room, try she sauntered across the room. 
• Choose dynamic verbs – Instead of she ran fast, try she sprinted. 
• Enhance the emotional tone - A cheerful summer day or a bleak cloud-filled sky.
• Allocate emotions to inanimate objects – The restless sea surges back and forth, or the abandoned house loomed with quiet hostility.

Transforming dull descriptions into evokative and immersive experiences that bring a story world to life requires carefully selecting meaningful details, showing characters interacting with their environment and appealing to all of the senses to create fresh and vivid imagery. 

What's your favorite example of an evocative and immersive description in fiction?

Are you stuck in a rut of writing novels you never finish or aren't sure how to fix?

Join Sandy’s supportive Facebook community for Female Contemporary Fiction Authors who want to plan and finish novels traditional publishers can’t resist! 

About Sandy

Sandy Vaile is an internationally published author with decades of experience in the fiction industry, who empowers female contemporary fiction writers to plan and finish novels traditional publishers can’t resist, through fiction coaching, courses and developmental editing.

She writes romantic suspense for Simon & Schuster US and in her spare time is a motorbike-riding daredevil with a sense of adventure. She is lucky enough to live in the McLaren Vale wine region, so there are plenty of excuses for cheese platters and bubbles. 

www.fearlessprose.com 

Image by Paul Stachowiak from Pixabay, text added by Lynette M. Burrows