White Room Syndrome

White Room Syndrome.

I'll be honest: this is a relatively new writing term to enter my vocabulary, though when I Googled this idea blog posts came up from more than a decade ago. (Go figure.)

It makes perfect sense, though.

When a scene doesn't include enough description to paint a clear picture in the reader's mind, it's as if the character is standing in a white room--they could be anywhere (floating in space, for all we know). 

With White Room Syndrome there's some action occurring, but the text is mostly dialogue, with zero sense of place.

When we're writing, we have to remember that the reader doesn't know what we know. We might have a clear mental image of our story backdrop, but our reader doesn't. Not until we impart the details. 

So how can we avoid White Room Syndrome? 

Think about where the story is taking place. Think about the time period. Think about the mood you're trying to establish within the reader. 

Then, consider pulling the character out of the setting and freewriting a page of nothing but the physical details of the location. Once this is complete, try to merge the action into the setting, thinking about what your character is seeing and hearing as they act and react. 

When writing, try to use all of your senses. Describe what someone might see, smell, taste, hear, and feel in the scene.

For example, what does the sky smell like on a hot summer day? What does it sound like when you're walking through a forest in the early morning? What does it feel like when you're holding hands with someone you love?

(Here's more on description, and here's a strategy I like to use.)

One caveat: don't overdo it. The reader doesn't need to know every single detail, just what's important to the story. It only takes a few key facts to establish a sense of place and ground the reader. 

White Room Syndrome is something you will likely address in a later draft. When the words are flowing (the dialogue always arrives the quickest for me) just focus on getting them onto the page. You can come back later to flesh out your scenes and descriptions.  

But to avoid "White Room Syndrome," the reader needs to be able to visualize the setting. They need to have that sense of what it might feel like if they were there.

It's the fastest way to a lasting impression. 

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~

Three Tips for More Effective Dialogue Tags

How many times have you lost yourself in a passage of dialogue in a book, then had to stop and go back a few lines because suddenly you had no idea who was talking?

Without proper dialogue tags, it can be easy to lose track of who is speaking, especially if three or more characters are in conversation.

To help, here are my three best tips for incorporating dialogue tags into your scenes. 

1) Keep them simple.

He said. She said. Margaret said. Tom said.

That's all you need. 

Beginning writers who want to spruce up their writing sometimes err in amplifying their dialogue tags. Suddenly Margaret is chortling or arguing or remarking or coaxing and Tom is commanding or imploring or quipping or jeering.

Are any of these descriptors "bad" in and of themselves? No. They are actually effective at painting a more specific image in the reader's mind.

The problem lies in turning every tag into one of these. Do this, and you're going to wear your reader out. Save these tags for special occasions, and limit them to a few per chapter.

This also applies to adding adverb qualifiers to your tags. 

She said hastily. He said menacingly. Margaret implored questioningly. Tom admonished very hatefully. 

Bottom line: Don't overdo your tags.

2) Vary their location.

"I'm hot," Margaret said.

"Go sit in front of the fan," Tom said.

"I tried that already," Margaret said.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you then. We're all hot," Tom said.  

When you use a dialogue tag in the same place in every sentence, the conversation begins to sound repetitious, and readers notice the pattern. Writers use "said" as the key tag because it tends to disappear on the page, but the ones used in the above example call attention to themselves so that we're focused on who is saying rather than what they're saying. 

3. Use descriptions as tags.

If you play your phrasing right, you'll reduce the number of dialogue tags you actually need. Telling us what your character is doing is a great way to signal who's speaking.

Here's an example from All I Never Needed. 

Three people are in conversation: Mac, River, and Harley, and there's a mix of "said" and other variations, descriptions as tags, and locations of the tags.

But before she could even answer there was Mac, striding toward us. 

“Hey, Harley, some of us are about to head to my place. My parents are gone for the weekend and my sister is at a concert in Hamilton with some friends. You should totally come with.”

“Oh. Thanks, but my dad is expecting me home by eleven, so. . . .” She trailed off, allowing him to make the appropriate connections.

“You don’t have to stay the whole time. Just a quick drop-in,” he said. “I can give you directions. It’s not far from here.”

Harley scratched an itch on her ankle. “Thanks, but I really do have to get home soon.”

He smiled his million-dollar smile—his “I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer” smile, an “I always get what I want” smile. Harley picked up on this, too, and the spell of the alcohol snapped—the transition from relaxed to “on full alert” almost immediate.

“Come on. We have the whole basement set up. Pool table, ping pong, darts, a full bar. It’ll blow your mind.”

I forced my eyes not to roll. “Jesus,” I muttered. “She’s saying no, Mac.”

“No way. We’re having a blast,” he said. “And it’s not even eleven.”

“That’s not the point,” I said.

He turned to me. “What, are you her mouthpiece or something? You speak for her now?”

“I speak for her when you’re too obtuse to recognize that she’s politely refused you twice already.” 

He laughed. “Oh, I’m sorry, River. I didn’t realize you’d already laid claim.”

Something burned beneath my skin, my face growing hotter as I climbed off the picnic table and stood to look him in the eye. “Again, not the point, MacKenzie.”

“Look, I get it. If you two are going on just say so. Otherwise, back the *&#$ off.” 

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So there you are: three ways to fix your dialogue tags. This isn't something I recommend worrying too much about during the drafting stage--it's important to get the words on the paper as quickly as possible--but during an early editing round. 

If you're like me and tend toward distraction when you're editing, use the "find" feature to highlight the word "said." This may help you stay focused on the conversation, what tags are being used, where tags are being used, and if there's enough activity taking place between the snippets of dialogue.

As always:

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~ 

Creating Unique Characters

When it comes to character, the goal is to create someone who is going to capture the reader's attention.

If you're writing a novel, you'll likely have several key players, and they will all need to sound different from the next. Otherwise, you're at risk of confusing the reader.

When brainstorming your character list, think about the key characteristics of each one. What is their gender? What is their age? Where are they from? How educated are they? What is their general attitude toward the world? What's their attitude toward the other characters?

All of these are going to affect them profoundly.

Photo by Ron Lach

Character One is a woman in her fifties. She is a literature instructor at the local university, and her husband has just left her for a younger woman. Both of her children are out of the house. An elderly neighbor drops by Saturday mornings with items from her garden or newspaper clippings of interest, and the woman can't decide if this annoys her or if she appreciates the companionship. 

Photo by Khairul Leon

Character Two is a male in his early twenties. He dropped out of high school to move to the beach. He loves his job at the local dive bar and that he has time to surf during the day. He's never met a stranger.

Think about how differently these two are going to interact with the world and the people in it. 

These differences need to come across on the page: in their dialogue, in their reactions, in everything they notice. 

Why? Because the more specific and varied your cast of characters, the more real they will seem. The more real they seem, the more memorable your story will be for the reader.

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~

Writing Descriptions

The dialogue always comes early.

For me, that is.

I always hear the conversations my characters have in my head first and foremost. Writing the in-between--what's happening outside the conversation--has always been a bit harder.

So if you're anything like me and aren't always sure what to include between the conversations in your fiction, here are a few options:

What the character is doing.

Conversations rarely exist in a vacuum. We're most likely conversing while performing other tasks (washing the dishes, walking to work, re-stocking that shelf, etc.), so consider where your characters are and the activity they're engaged in while talking. Give us hints at how the activity is progressing. 

What the character is thinking/feeling. 

We rarely say what we mean. What does your character think about what's being relayed? This is a great place to add some conflict. For instance, maybe your main character agrees to meet with someone at another time, pretending she's okay with this, when she's actually suppressing her disappointment. Give us those inner thoughts. Show us the contrast between her expectations versus reality, or what she's predicting will happen.

What people are doing around them.

What does your character notice about the activities taking place around them? What (or who) is grabbing at their attention? Don't toss random associations into your descriptions--if a character sees something worth mentioning, it should mean something. Still, this is a great way to fill the space between your spoken words.

Backstory.

Is there an important piece of backstory that can be imparted during this conversation? Is there something about the past the character remembers, or a revelation she's having? Since backstory shouldn't be info-dumped into a single location, use conversations as a natural way to intersperse past (relevant) events into the present story.

Location.

Similar to noting what the character sees happening around her, what does the space look like? Are they in a garden or walking along a city street? Working in a kitchen at the back of a restaurant? What are the sights, sounds, and smells associated with this place? Toss in a few specific details to ground your reader within the setting as you move the conversation along.

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio from Pexels

Again, it's worth noting that every description included in a passage should be pertinent or important in some way. 

Also, keep in mind that balance is needed when interspersing these details, especially when they occur in the middle of a conversation. The reader needs enough information to gain a solid image of the time and place, but not so much that it takes over what's being said by the characters.

The perfect melding of description and dialogue, of course, will come with time and practice, so Get Writing. :D 

And always. . . . 

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~

On Grounding Your Reader

You're grounded!

No, I'm kidding. I'm not even talking about that kind of grounding. No one is in trouble.

The "grounded" I'm referring to here is actually a good thing.

The idea of "grounding" oneself has, in the last few years, entered conversations surrounding one's mental health, most commonly with those who experience panic attacks.

"Grounding" is a strategy one can use to bring themselves back to the present. The technique, quite literally, "grounds" one in the current moment.

One of the most common grounding exercises involves locating and naming the following:

5 things you can see.

4 things you can touch.

3 things you can hear.

2 things you can smell.  

1 thing you can taste.

But this exercise isn't only beneficial for anxiety attacks.

Do you see where I'm going with this?

Grounding is actually a great tool for writers, especially those who struggle with description.  

Writing is observation, after all, and what is this list if not observation? The fact that it's observation using five of our senses (also a hallmark of good writers)? That's just a bonus. 

Try it. . . . 

Photo by cottonbro from Pexels

What do you see in this picture?

What can you touch? (What's the texture?)

What do you hear? (Is it loud or soft?)

What can you smell? (Is it strong or faint? Sweet or acrid?)

What can you taste?

Bonus question: What do your characters think or feel about all of this?

While we're at it, why stop at three things you can hear? Brainstorm ten. Trust me: once you move past the obvious (conversation, traffic, etc.) you're bound to come up with something unexpected--something that will surprise you and the reader.

Now . . . how can you incorporate your list of items--5-4-3-2-1 (or more)--into a scene you'd write about this pictured moment?

You wouldn't want to cram the items together, of course. They should be introduced gradually or spread out over the course of several paragraphs. You might not even want to use all of the items you managed to brainstorm, but if you want to ground your reader in the scene you're writing as it unfolds, I can't think of a better strategy.

And don't limit this to just your writing: try it in your daily life. Practice grounding yourself when you're at the supermarket or on that walk, or when you're working or shopping or even cleaning the house. 

Because the more you notice, the more you notice.

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~

The Half-Scene

Because summary can be incredibly important in presenting information that does not need its own scene (for instance, if the action came long before the scene taking place), but because it can also slow down the action and pacing (possibly encouraging the reader to skip it entirely), it can be helpful to integrate a "half-scene" into the summary within the main scene:

After my last fight with Sean—the morning of the day he died—I headed downstairs, putting as much physical distance between us as quickly as possible. I remember passing family portraits on my way down, a visual progression of the years growing between us. My lighter hair and glasses—until I got contacts. Sean’s darker features and broad shoulders—strong and confident. That stupid grin that got him whatever he wanted, even Claire.

Especially Claire.

“It’ll never work out!” he’d called after me. “You’re not her type!”

I ignored him, jogged into the kitchen, my new tennis shoes squeaking against the wood floors. My mom was at the counter, scrolling through something on her phone. The Keurig was hissing, the dishwasher running—whirring and clicking its way through the cycle.

It’s crazy the details I remember about that day.

I remember thinking, for instance, that the only way the dishwasher would be running in the morning was if Sean had forgotten to start it the night before—that it was so like him to be completely undependable. Not that anyone seemed to notice.

“What’s going on?” Mom asked.

“Nothing.” I grabbed two cherry breakfast bars from the pantry and a bottled water from the fridge.

In a few short hours, I would puke those bars up on the hospital lawn. After that, I would never eat one again. I wouldn’t even be able to look at them without feeling nauseous. 

This scene is a flashback that pulls us out of present day, but it doesn't only summarize the past--it mixes dialogue and action to add more drama. It is a scene within a scene. 

So if you're working on backstory and feel the paragraphs are getting too bogged down with simple summary, try to add some elements of scene: dialogue, descriptive action, etc. Paint a few of those specific images you're discussing for the reader.

Just remember to keep the point of view and tense consistent. The above example remains in Jesse's POV because I'm in his head at that moment in the story, but with this snippet of action I've pulled the narration from present tense (he says) to past (he said).

A few nice "action moments" can break up the monotony when information needs to be summarized, making the passage more memorable.

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~

Story Rhythms

The rhythm of your story (or the pacing) is built around your scene structure. 

The length (or how long or short your scenes are) is what drives the flow.

Scenes with more exposition and description, for instance, will slow down the story. Dialogue will always speed a scene up. 

A comedic scene will be shorter and more quickly paced than a dramatic scene, which tends to be longer and more drawn out. 

But whether you're writing comedy or drama, the scenes should get shorter as you progress toward the climax. This is when the intensity of the story will be at its greatest, where the pages (hopefully) start turning themselves.

Otherwise, there should be a nice mix of points in your novel where the speed picks up, then pulls back a little--action vs. reaction--an incline that slowly builds to that key moment where everything unravels.

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~

On Gestures

He slammed his fist against the table.

She twirled one of her curls around her finger.

He crossed his arms.

She lifted her chin, twisted her lips in a half-smile.

In life, gestures are a non-verbal form of communication. Our body language--how we move, our facial expressions, our "tics"--these actions say as much as (or sometimes more than) our words.

In writing, gestures are often used to fill space or to create a rest from dialogue.

When used correctly, they add depth to the character and give us something else to focus on before returning to the real story/action. When used incorrectly, they can come across as trite, overused, irrelevant, or even distracting.

Therefore, gestures should be approached with care and consideration.

Try to avoid generic descriptions (one size fits all). Each character should have a unique response to any given situation. A gesture should tell us something specific about the character and what he/she is reacting to. Think unexpected and unusual (but not forced or overdone). 

Above all, make sure your gestures mean something. Resist using them as a placeholder or filler material. When in doubt, leave it out. It's likely your story will progress just fine without the attention drawn to a random nodding of the head or pointing of a finger.

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~  

The Truth is in the Details

What makes the reader suspend disbelief and lose himself in the story you're telling? 

The details.

Not too many details, but just the right amount.

A single detail, in fact, can tell us more about a character than a lengthy paragraph. 

What kind of details, you ask? The particulars. Something interesting that might otherwise be overlooked. Little clues that offer insight into who your character is, what she enjoys, or the trials he may have faced.

That glass clock on the mantle--a 25-year service award from his company? A detail.

The crucifix above the grandmother's window? A detail.

The colored pencils scattered on the floor by her bed? A detail.

We can assume a lot about a character through these strategic descriptions, even if we don't fully know them yet.

Stories are built on little details.

Make them count.

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~ 

You Might Be a Writer If. . . .

You might be a writer if you think about sentences.

I mean, really think about them--what makes them strong, what makes them sing, what they're saying (as well as what they're not saying). . . .

"A beautiful sentence is a beautiful sentence."

-Francine Prose (Reading Like a Writer)

and

". . . if you are even thinking in these terms--that is, if you are even considering what might constitute strong, vigorous, energetic, and clear sentences--you are already far in advance of wherever you were before you were conscious of the sentence as something deserving our deep respect and enraptured attention."

So think about it: the structure, the diction, the pacing, the flow, the subtext.

(Think about 10,000 of these and you might even have a novel.) ;)

There's no rule that says every sentence must dance across the page, but if you can, make it beautiful. The discerning reader will notice. 

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~ 

First Person POV Violations

First person or third person, there is no "wrong" point of view for your story (provided, of course, you've made every effort to find the best point of view). There are pros and cons to each, though, and some things that should be taken into consideration if you do want to tackle that first person narrator.

The first is to remember that you don't have the same freedom with first person as you do third. Because you are speaking as I, me, we, our, etc., you are limited by what your narrator witnesses and experiences firsthand.

This also means there's a key feature you don't have access to as a writer:

The narrator's face.

Sure, you can describe what's happening if they're looking in a mirror, but we often consider that cheating.

Think about it:

She lined her plump, pink lips with a red pencil, brushed a few flecks of mascara off the high cheekbones she inherited from her grandmother.

And perhaps that's not awful. If you're going to use a mirror to describe a character, at least pick unusual features to discuss. That said, you can do better than giving us a basic blonde hair/blue-eyed summary of the girl we'll have to follow for the next two hundred pages just because she happens to be brushing her teeth.

But I digress.

Back to the face. In first person.

An expression of sadness crossed my face.

How do you know? You can't see your face. You can tell us you frowned, but describing a specific expression--something you would see on another character's face if you were standing in front of him or her--doesn't work in first person writing.

What about blushing?

My cheeks grew red with embarrassment. 

Again, how do you know they're red? The first person narrator, when thrust in an awkward situation, doesn't know what color his cheeks are, so a different way is needed to convey this. He can feel the heat in his cheeks or the warmth creeping up his neck and into his cheeks, but he Can't. See. The Actual Color.

Another thing to watch out for with the first person narrator: the phrase "to myself."

I said to myself.

I thought to myself.

There are more deft ways to characterize thinking or speaking to oneself, and this kind of phrasing is redundant. "I said" works perfectly fine. If you need to clarify that no one else can hear, then the character can "mutter" or "whisper." He can be speaking "so low she couldn't hear me" or "under my breath." And thoughts are just thoughts . . .  which brings me to my next point:

Avoid announcements.

My thoughts drifted. 

I remembered. 

A writer doesn't have to tell the reader the narrator is thinking. We're smart enough to discern action from dialogue and something that's currently happening in the narrative versus something that happened in the past, so go ahead and present the memory without labeling it.

I know not every reader feels the same way, but I love a first person narrator done well. There are some pitfalls, but these can easily be avoided with additional attention to detail.

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~ 

On Writing Death Scenes

A character's death is a big deal, and it can be tempting to draw this out over the course of several paragraphs (or, God forbid, pages), articulating every groan and sigh and/or prick of pain--every final thought that runs through his or her mind.

But such descriptions can come across as lurid to the reader--overdone, melodramatic, and even histrionic.

The best route to take when writing a death scene?

Understatement.

Keep the language and descriptions simple--only include the most relevant details. 

Focus on how the characters around the dying react rather than the death itself. 

Oh, and we rarely get to offer deathbed confessions, so try to avoid characters who go on at length about loves, losses, recantations, regrets, etc.

Your readers are smart. They know how to handle a dying character, and the more subtle your narration, the greater the impact it's likely to have.

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~

Weather as a Metaphor

If we could sum up the use of weather as a metaphor in a single word. . . .

No.

Don't do it.

As writers, and especially beginning writers, it can be tempting to force the weather to mirror our characters' moods and the situations in which they find themselves.

We have good intentions, of course--it's for effect, to add layers and depth to a scene. 

After all, there's nothing like a sudden thunderstorm to interrupt the throes of outdoor passion. Or a heated argument in the rain (I admit, that's a favorite of mine). Or a perfect spring day to match the kindling of a new love.

And sure, sometimes in real life we fight on dark, wet days. And those afternoon picnics with the ones we love are, in fact, spent beneath a warm sun. But aligning the weather to every situation in our novels is a bit pedestrian.

As humans, we respond to weather. It's also one of the easiest things to describe in a story.

But it's not a perfect metaphor, so use it sparingly as one (if at all).

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~

On Silence

Sometimes what a writer doesn't say is as important as what he says.

Just like a musician will let a note hang suspended to create drama and tension in a piece, so can writers use this kind of lull to their advantage. 

Too much information, in fact, can detract from a scene and slow down the pacing of a story to a detrimental degree. 

The antidote to this? 

Silence.

Silence is what ignites the reader's imagination, allowing them to take your story and fill in the empty spaces.

There isn't enough room to cover everything, so it comes down to what needs to be real within the scene and what can be implied. 

Sometimes less really is more.

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~ 

Sweat the Small Stuff

When revealing character, the small details matter. They might matter more, in fact, than the "big" details.

When I first sent ALL I NEVER WANTED to my beta readers, one returned the very first page with a note that changed the way I described my characters:

First and foremost, this is a story of redemption.
But it’s also a love story. A love story that begins with a black eye and a mental health facility, and while that hardly seems the setting for a modern romance, and I’m the last guy anyone would consider a knight in shining armor, trust me when I say I’d suffer a thousand black eyes to meet her again. But before there was the rehab and the fist to the face and the falling for a girl with jagged nails and graphite smudges on her fingertips, there was my dad’s annual holiday party. And it happened like this. . . .

I don't remember how I first described Summer Evans in the prologue, but it leaned toward blonde hair and blue eyes and was, in a word, boring. It was the beta who suggested I re-think how I first presented Summer to the audience. Hair and eyes are great, but those jagged nails and graphite smudges tell a much deeper story, don't you think?

It's the little details that will add life to your story. I could've gone on about how massive Trent's house was, but I zeroed in on the columns--the leaves carved into the capitals--and it really only mattered that Crewe knocked a server's tray out of her hands at their dad's party, but it's more exciting when it's a silver tray of miniature cannoli which scatter, rolling across the marble floor.

The little details aren't so little, then, so don't equate little with unimportant. It's the small things that the reader will remember--that will breathe life into your story.

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~   

The Secret to Showing (Not Telling)--Part Two

In my last post, I talked about one of the secrets to showing (not telling) in your novels. Of course, there's a time and place for telling, so it's not something to avoid completely, but if your prose needs that extra "pop" to draw in readers, not only should you make sure you're writing in the active (not passive) voice, but that you're using precise, vivid words. 

When we're writing a first draft, the goal is to get the story onto paper. Sometimes this means crafting the "skeleton" of a scene. After all, if we focus too much on sentence structure and word choice in a first attempt, we might paralyze ourselves into a corner. 

No one writes a perfect book on the first go-round.

At some point during the revision process, though, we need to look at every sentence--every word--to make sure it's as descriptive as possible. 

Is there a better way to phrase this?

Is there a more descriptive word I can use?

The tendency for beginning writers is to pair adverbs with verbs to strengthen them (i.e. he walked slowly). But why not use a stronger word? "Ambled" might work better here, or "meandered" or "drifted." Each of these words paints a different picture of the person doing the walking and the deeper meaning behind it. 

And not only should we incorporate strong verbs and nouns into our writing (avoiding adverbs as much as we can), but we should also make our descriptions as specific as possible.

It's not just a swing, but a tire swing, fastened to a tree with rope that's dry-rotted from years in the sun and rain. And not just any tree, but a pear tree planted by the couple who built the house more than a hundred years before.

The stronger the details, the more likely you'll keep the reader's attention.

And to ensure those readers aren't going to become lost in extended, flowery prose, keep Strunk and White's advice in mind:

precision, with concision

Meaning: be as specific as possible using the fewest words necessary to tell the story.

And always . . .

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~ 

The Secret to Showing (Not Telling)--Part One

"Show! Don't Tell."

It's one of the most oft-uttered phrases in writing history. I've heard it. I've said it. But what does it actually mean to "show," and how do we know when we're "telling"?

Secret #1 lies in the verbs we use.

"Showing sentences" use the active voice.

"Telling sentences" use the passive voice.

A passive construction often contains the following formula: "to be" + past participle (or the "ed" verb).

For example: 

     The movie has been watched by the friends over a dozen times. (passive construction)

     The painting was completed by Charlotte. (passive construction) 

How could we fix these to make them active? By re-arranging the words so that the person or thing is doing the action (not having the action done to them).

     The friends watched the movie more than a dozen times. (active construction)

     Charlotte completed the painting. (active construction)

How do we locate passive sentences in our writing?

First, we should isolate the sentence. Then, we need to determine what's happening in the sentence and decide if an action is taking place. If so, we need to decide if the action is being done to the person or thing, or if the person/thing is doing the action. If the sentence is passive, then it's just a matter of rearranging the subject and verb. 

Is every "be" or "have" sentence passive? No. It depends on how the verb is being used in the sentence, so don't think every am, is, are, was, were, be, being, been, have, has, had needs to be cut from a manuscript. Some of them are important and even necessary.

Just pay careful attention to the action taking place in your sentence. The more "active" the sentence is, the closer you are to "showing."

Be Brilliant!

~Katie~