There are times when a piece of writing moves us at a deep level.
This writing, poetic prose, is a combination of sound, rhythm, and sense imagery that pierces the heart.
Rhythm
Composing poetic prose isn’t only about imagery and word usage. The rhythm of a piece is equally important.
Sentence length, internal rhymes, syllables, assonance, and alliteration all affect rhythm.
Sentence length and syllable balance
The sentence length and the number of syllables can vary the way a reader paces a paragraph or stanza in their mind.
Long, breezy sentences may impart a feeling of peacefulness.
Short, choppy sentences send a sense of urgency.
Your word choice and sentence length contribute to the pacing and mood.
Reading your work aloud helps you have a clearer feel for the pacing of your writing.
Example:
“I took a breath. The rippled concrete poked my bare feet. I grasped the ladder and grit my teeth. The crowd hushed as I stepped onto the diving board.”
“I took a breath and focused on the rippled concrete poking at my bare feet before grasping the ladder and pulling myself onto the diving board.”
Both examples are of the same event, but the pacing is different.
Alliteration, assonance, and rhymes, oh my!
The first thing that comes to my mind when I think of alliteration is “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. Where’s the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked?”
Alliteration is the use of the same consonant sounds in consecutive words or syllables at the beginning of a word.
Example:
All the characters in my children’s chapter books have alliterative names. This was purely accidental, or perhaps a gift from the muse. Frankie Fish, Gary Gecko, Boris Bunny … Boris happens to be a bully, by the way.
Alliteration in popular culture:
Best Buy
Door Dash
American Airlines
Frosted Flakes
Weight Watchers
Fantastic Four
Krispy Kreme
House Hunters
Assonance uses the repetition of similar vowel sounds in two or more words close to each other within a line of writing. Internal vowel sounds are often repeated in words that don’t have the same ending. This helps the writer stress important words while setting the mood and creating a sense of rhythm.
Example:
In John Updike’s poem, Player Piano the line “never my numb plunker fumbles” is a great contrast to the poem’s title. Clunky, not melodic.
Everyday assonance phrases:
Son of a gun
Dumb luck
See you later, alligator
Chips and dip
Goodnight, sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite
Winner, winner, chicken dinner
Motion of the ocean
Keep your eyes on the prize
Rhythm is measured motion, based on patterns of stressed and unstressed syllables and sounds. Writers use rhythm to control what syllables are stressed in their work, creating feelings of varying movements in the writing—almost musical.
Example:
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s Psalm of Life uses a pattern where the first syllable is stressed, and the second syllable is not.
“Tell me not, in mournful numbers”
Here is a delightful excerpt from Emily Climbs by L.M. Montgomery. This piece of writing nearly sings!
“A great, pulsating star hung low in the sky over Indian Head. Emily gazed on it and recalled Teddy’s old fancy of his previous existence in a star. The idea seized on her imagination and she spun a dream-life, lived in some happy planet circling round that mighty, far-off sun. Then came the northern lights—drifts of pale fire over the sky—spears of light, as of empyrean armies—pale, elusive hosts retreating and advancing. Emily lay and watched them in rapture. Her soul was washed pure in that great bath of splendour. She was a high priestess of loveliness assisting at the divine rites of her worship—and she knew her goddess smiled.”
Final thoughts
Here are some exercises to help write poetic prose:
Flip through the Norton Anthology for opening lines that interest you. Choose a line whose theme matches what you want to write next. Use that line as a quote to jumpstart your writing.
Scan anthologies for poems that use the word voice or include the sense of sound. Find the musical feel that you can use as a model in your prose.
Peruse poems for first/last lines and titles. Look for the unity of these three elements. How do they connect and how can you use this in prose?
The sparing use of the literary elements—alliteration, assonance, and rhymes—in prose can make it musical. Poetic. Too much might be distracting, but don’t shy away from playing with word sounds.
Do you add elements of poetry to your prose? What would you add to the lists for everyday assonance an alliteration in popular culture?
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About Ellen
Author, speaker, and former teacher, Ellen L. Buikema has written non-fiction for parents, and The Adventures of Charlie Chameleon chapter book series with stories encouraging the development of empathy—sprinkling humor wherever possible. Her Works in Progress are The Hobo Code, YA historical fiction and The Crystal Key, MG Magical Realism/ Sci-Fi, a glaze of time travel.
I had a tooth pulled last month -- my very first -- and it did not go well. I had pain, nausea, swelling, and all those apparently usual things. Three or four days later, the pain went from about a four or five out of ten to “someone is chiseling my face from my jaw to my eyeball with a rusty drill bit.” I'd developed something called Dry Socket,
Frankly, when my primary care doctor texted me that term, I thought he'd gotten autocorrected. I had no idea what he was talking about. But what you don’t know can indeed hurt you, both in your mouth and in your manuscript.
Read on, my friends. You can let me know how I do at bringing my hilariously sad story back around to writing. Plus, I could sure use some sympathy down in the comments for yet another unfortunate health experience.
What is Dry Socket?
A quick definition... Dry Socket is a dental complication, involving exposed bone and nerves, that can happen after a tooth extraction, especially for an upper tooth. I had a perforated sinus to go with mine, which means five people wanted to come look in my mouth when I went to the dentist for pain management. It would have been hilarious if I hadn't felt like I wanted to divorce my face.
I heard things like:
"I've never seen anything like that before."
"Look at how far that hole goes up."
"So that's her sinus?"
"How do you fix that?"
WHOA.
It felt like a dental school in my cubicle.
Speaking of lessons...
#1 – Never Forget About Murphy
Murphy’s Law says that “whatever can go wrong, will go wrong.” Writers know this law well.
For example, we know the NaNoWriMo challenge comes in the very worst month for those in the US. There are several holidays in November, including the labor-intensive Thanksgiving holiday. Plus, it’s cold and flu season right around that time.
I literally never won NaNoWriMo until I did the following three things:
Got a NaNo Buddy (Julie Glover rocks!) who incentivized me to show up, and who dragged me across the 50K finish line when I fell behind.
Stockpiled my words earlier in the month, so I could enjoy my birthday and those aforementioned holidays.
Found a reliable dictation tool. I "talked" my story out on days when my energy or creativity was low.
At the end of the day…
Since I’m optimistic, I generally plan for the worst and hope for the best. But sometimes, something (like stupid Dry Socket) is so unexpectedly craptastic that there is no way to plan. Then you must employ Lesson #2.
#2 – "This Too Shall Pass"
My mama gave me this one early in life, while my parents were going through a fairly vicious divorce. She was right.
We all have those no good, terrible, awful days. Days so dreadful that it would be easier to just go back to bed and start over. Weeks when we truly don’t think we’ll get to the weekend. Months marked by angst and strife.
They pass. They might bring lingering hurt or grief or anxiety, but they pass.
As Winston Churchill said, “If you're going through hell, keep going.” And “never, never, never give up.”
#3 – Seek Out Advice (early and often)
New writers tend to spend a lot of time on learning and development. I’ve talked before about all the time I spent bumbling around as a newbie, and all the things I wish I’d known much earlier. If you were or are like me, you might not even understand some of the writing lessons you learn until many years later. That is normal and a necessary part of the process because new knowledge is usually built on old knowledge.
Back to my Dry Socket…
I don’t know about you, but I am useless when medicated.
According to my husband, the nurse who walked my sedated self to the car put the post-operative care instructions in my hand. Four days later when my extraction site exploded with pain, I had no memory of this. I'd have sworn on a stack of Bibles that I never got them.
It went like this:
All weekend, I alternated between leaving desperate messages at the only number I had for the dentist, and wishing I had the man's cell phone number.
When my sainted Hubs said, “Let me double-check to see if it’s listed somewhere on the instructions,” my answer was, “What instructions?!”
“The ones they handed you after the surgery," he said. "I thought you read them.”
That’s when the fight started.
Plus, I called the office bright and early the next day on Monday and brought the fight to their door. "Those instructions should have been sent to me before the procedure. And, by the way, can someone look in my mouth TODAY and make this pain go away?"
[For the record, it took at least another two weeks for the pain to dial back from "fourteen out of ten" to a four.]
#4 – We can do hard things.
Writing isn’t for sissies. Neither are health challenges. I know I’m not the only one here who's had both.
These are three tried and true mechanisms that help me get through stalled manuscripts and trying health moments:
a) Do at least a tiny piece of your to-do list every day.
Sometimes, all that means is thinking about your story, or re-writing the list so the tasks are broken into smaller pieces. Sometimes that means half, or maybe even a whole scene. But usually you will feel better if you have done at least one thing on your list, even if it’s not a great day.
b) On really hard days, give yourself grace. Trust that you will get back to it.
c) It’s okay to do other work.
Some days you hate your story. You want to throw it in the toilet and go write something new. You can’t think of a single thing to say, or a scene just isn’t working. Those are the best times to use your creative energy in a different way. Some of my favorite alternatives are cooking or baking, gardening, knitting, reading, or writing a bonus scene.
Often those things will let off my frustration enough that I can do the thing I set out to do. If not, give yourself that grace and know you'll get back to it another day.
#5 – Stress Wastes Time
Time is finite and so is your sanity. You can’t get time back you’ve lost, wasted or misused…but adding anxiety on top of it wastes more time.
I’ve stressed about time for as long as I can remember. Did I use it wisely? How could I have used it better? How much more could I have gotten done if…
I’ve also wasted plenty of time worrying about time.
Worrying about being productive can paralyze you with stress, to the point that you’re less productive. And all the cortisol dumped into your system from all that stress causes even bigger issues.
During my cancer battle last year, I let that unproductive habit go. Wasting time by stressing out about time seemed colossally stupid when I was spending all my time trying to stay alive. I spent hours each week in the infusion center, days in bed, months recovering from surgery. I’m still here so I consider it time well-spent.
Imagine how worse off I'd have been if I'd added worries about time to my recovery. Imagine how much longer your manuscript will take if you add worry to your creative process.
Joy is what makes your muse sing, not stress.
Back to all of you... Have you had dental, health, or life challenges that provided valuable writing lessons? Have you ever had the dreaded Dry Socket? I can't wait to hear your stories down in the comments!
About Jenny
By day, Jenny Hansen provides brand storytelling, LinkedIn coaching, and copywriting for accountants and financial services firms. By night, she writes humor, memoir, women’s fiction, and short stories. After 20+ years as a corporate trainer, she’s delighted to sit down while she works.
Find Jenny here at Writers In the Storm, or online on Facebook or Instagram.
Top photo purchased from Depositphotos. Artist's portfolio here.
Stakes are a crucial part of your story because they define what will happen if the protagonist fails. To build reader empathy, you need this piece in place because when the reader sees what’s at stake, and they recognize why it matters to the character, the story becomes important. It matters.
Stakes also create tension when the reader realizes what’s on the line. So when the stakes are referenced early on, readers are more likely to be drawn in and root for the character’s success.
But that empathy connection only happens if the reader can see what’s at stake. And that can only happen if the author knows what’s on the line. Sometimes, it’s obvious. What are the consequences if Sheriff Brody doesn’t catch the shark in Jaws? Death and dismemberment. In the original Inside Out, if all of Riley’s emotions aren’t acknowledged and won’t work together, her identity is at risk.
But other times, it’s harder to identify what’s at stake in a story. So I’d like to share a simple method for figuring that out.
Outer Motivation + Inner Motivation = Stakes
All you have to do is figure out a couple of key elements for your story.
The Protagonist’s Goal
First: the protagonist’s goal. This is their overall objective. It’s what they’re hoping to achieve: getting the girl, enacting revenge, catching the criminal, etc. This is also called the Outer Motivation because it’s what the character is visibly working toward; everything he or she does is in pursuit of this objective. In The Lord of the Rings, Frodo’s goal is to destroy the one ring. In An Officer and a Gentleman, the protagonist’s goal is to become a Navy officer. The story goal should be pretty obvious because it’s what your character is actively seeking and pursuing.
The Protagonist’s Inner Motivation
But, often, there’s also something internally driving your character toward their goal. This is called the Inner Motivation because its private and is usually related to self-esteem or personal fulfillment. Figuring this out requires some digging into the character’s psyche and their past, but on a basic level, you can simply ask: Why is the goal so important to them?
In An Officer and a Gentleman, why does Zach Mayo want to become a Navy officer? There are lots of possibilities, but the true reason becomes clear when you know his backstory. His mother committed suicide, abandoning him as a ten-year-old. He was sent to live with his father, who was an excellent drinking buddy but not good for much else. And his dad’s military career had them moving all over so he could never put down roots. What Zach craves more than anything is belonging, and becoming a military officer will provide that for him. This is going to meet an internal need that’s missing. Belonging to a group is his inner motivation.
One interesting connection to note: the inner motivation will often point back to a missing human need.
If you’ve followed Angela and me for long, you’ve likely heard about Maslow’s hierarchy of human needs and how it fits into character arc. The full explanation is here, but to summarize, there are 5 needs that are common to all human beings. If any of these are missing, people become vulnerable, and they’ll take action to fill the void.
So, when we’re thinking about how to create meaningful stakes for a character, it’s helpful to zero in on which need is missing or most important to them—and be sure it’s tied to their inner motivation. For Zach, he’s missing love and belonging. He’s chosen a goal that, if he succeeds, will usher him into a ready-made community. So what’s at stake if he fails? Not belonging—continuing to live in isolation, alone.
SIDE NOTE: It’s important to note that not every protagonist has an inner motivation. This happens a lot in stories that are plot-driven rather than character-driven: thrillers, action/adventure, etc. Think: Indiana Jones, Lara Croft, and vintage James Bond. Those stories are all about the character achieving the goal rather than them growing and maturing, so that internal piece isn’t necessarily needed. In stories like these, the stakes will be very obvious: the end of the world, someone dying, the Nazis getting the Ark of the Covenant and becoming all-powerful, etc.
Bonus: You Can Start from Anywhere
The cool thing about this method is you don’t have to know all your story elements at once; you can start with the inner or outer motivation to figure out the rest of the pieces.
Example 1: Start with the story goal. You know you’re writing a romance with a protagonist who’s looking for true love. What missing human need will be filled if they succeed (inner motivation/human need)? What’s at stake if they fail?
Example 2: Start with the human need/internal motivation that’s driving their behavior. You know your character inside and out, so you’ve already identified their wound and the human need that’s been compromised. Let’s say it’s Esteem and Recognition. What story goal might they pursue that would fill that void? What’s at stake if they fail to reach their objective?
And now you know how to figure out what’s at stake for your story. Convey that to readers early on, and you’ll show them why the story matters, making it engaging and difficult to put down.
Have you identified the stakes for your protagonist? What’s on the line for them externally and/or internally?
About Becca
Becca Puglisi is an international speaker, writing coach, and bestselling author of The Emotion Thesaurus and other resources for writers. Her books have sold over 1 million copies and are available in multiple 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 resource for authors that's home to the Character Builder and Storyteller's Roadmap tools.
