As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not a big believer in writer’s block. However, I am a big believer in the fact that sometimes we just don’t know enough about our stories to write the next part yet. And sometimes, we don’t even have a clue of what should happen next. For me, stewing and fermenting in my subconscious is a big part of my process, and when writing on contract I don’t always have the luxury of time enough for that. For me, not know what comes next happens most frequently in the third quarter of the book. This is the section that always takes the most left-brain work for me to make it right.

I think the reason is that in the first half of the book, I’ve spun out all the story threads, laid down the first steps of the arcs, and raised all sorts of dramatic questions. I’m now standing at the midpoint, staring up that long steep slope to the climax. By virtue of what I have written in the first half, I am somewhat committed to certain paths and choices. But I also want for the events to happen in the most cause-and-effect, increase-the-tension sort of way. AND, as if that’s not enough, I need to continue getting the character’s internal arc, incremental baby steps on the page. That’s where the left brain stuff comes in. When I’m not writing on contract, I usually do a discovery draft first, but when I’m short of time, I have to jumpstart things.

Now let me just say, if you don’t have to do this stuff, my hat’s totally off to you. I envy all you instinctive writers out there! But I also think it can be seductively easy to kid ourselves as to how gripping or well constructed our own writing is, so in addition to helping me actually get words on the page in the first place, this process also comes the closest to letting me look at my own work objectively.

So for the last couple of days, I’ve been brainstorming and playing what happens next. I don’t really even try to make a daily word count at this point because it’s the underlying stuff that I’m working on; the bones and sinew rather than the muscle and skin. (Sorry about that analogy—I’ve been immersed in dragons lately, and that’s pretty much how they see people…)

The other thing is, while I might not know what happens next, I do have this vision in my head of what I want the story to be like when it’s finished; this great glorious vision; one that the story will never ever look like, but even so, I use that blueprint, that mental impression, as a touch stone. Which of all these options before me will most closely recreate on the page that ethereal impression I have in my head?

So in my wip, Phil and Nate Fludd have entered the wyverns cave in search of an intruder. I know they face dangers in the cave as they search for this intruder, but I have only the vaguest impression of what those dangers are. So I make a list of what’s in the cave; infant wyverns, yearlings, and two year old wyverns, and the dangers and risks each present. I also need to design the cavern system so I can see in my minds eye the actual terrain they are traversing and what physical complications and difficulties they might run into.

Then I look at this list and sort of poke at it, wondering which is scarier, a wyvern yearling or a two year old, because during this section of the book (from the midpoint to the climax) I think it is critical to keep winding that tension up, to create a true build to the climax. For myself as a reader, this is most often where some books fall short and it is too easy to put them down.

As I poke at each kernel of a scene, I look for ways to up the tension. For example, let’s have the feeding pit scattered with old bones and carcasses to incorporate some of the conflict in the actual setting and description. When they enter the cave, there is lots of atmosphere, and the apprehension of coming face to face with wyverns for the first time, but is there something else I can do to up the stakes? Hm, yes. Let’s have Nate break the ladder by accident so that they now have no way back out should things get too rough.

That’s the sort of thing I take a couple of days to do. So I’ve basically spent my time designing wyvern caverns and recording the wyvern maturing process from infancy, as recorded in the Fludd family Book of Beasts. As someone who was consistently dinged for daydreaming and making stuff up as a kid, can I just say, I LOVE MY JOB!

I don't know about you, but grilled chicken is my best friend. It's quick, easy, and since I grill it outside, it doesn't heat up the kitchen on hot summer evenings. However, since I do rely on it a lot, the others in the family sometimes get a wee bit tired of it. In an effort to try something new, yet equally easy, we came up with these grilled chicken sandwiches. The secret here is to buy the thin sliced chicken breasts. They have been sliced thin so cook in 10-15 minutes and are perfect sized portions.

Basic Grilled Chicken Sandwiches

1 package thin sliced, boneless, skinless chicken breasts
Italian dressing for marinade (I use Bernstein's Italian)
Santa Maria Seasoning (I swear by this stuff, and I use it for everything!)
1 package hamburger rolls, lightly toasted or warmed
lettuce, mayonnaise

Put chicken breasts in marinade for 5-10 minutes while the grill heats up. Sprinkle with Santa Maria Seasoning, then grill for 10-12 minutes until cooked through.
Spread heated hamburger rolls with mayo, then add chicken breasts and lettuce. Makes five sandwiches. (If the chicken is on sale, I grill two packages of chicken breasts and have the sandwiches two nights in a row. VERY easy.)

Slightly Fancier Grilled Chicken Sandwiches

1 package thin sliced, boneless, skinless chicken breasts
Italian dressing for marinade
Santa Maria Seasoning
5 slices cheese (swiss, muenster, havarti)
Instead of hamburger rolls, use ciabatta bread or rolls
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1/4 tsp dried basil
cucumber slices
thinly sliced red pepper strips

Prepare chicken as above.
Heat rolls.
Place slice of cheese on top half of rolls, then return to toaster oven to melt.
Mix 1/4 c mayo with 1/4 tsp dried basil and spread on bottom half of ciabatta rolls.
Place grilled chicken on top of mayo, add slices of cucumber and red pepper. Place top half of roll with melted cheese on top.
Makes five sandwiches.

Okay, I'm going to get all math-ish on you here, but bear with me a moment. And I say this as a person who hated geometry. (I liked algebra because it mimics life--in life we are always trying to solve for the unknown--but that's the subject of a different post...)

In geometry, an arc is the path between two points. It is exactly the same with a character arc. A character arc marks the path between your character at the beginning of the story and your character at the end of the story. The change in the character does not happen all at once, it happens gradually over time, a series of small steps before the final climax when the character is remade into his new and improved self.

Think of a baby chick or a butterfly. It pokes and wriggles, attempting to free itself from the egg or the cocoon, until the very end where it makes a heroic final burst and breaks free. And as any naturalist will tell you, it is hugely detrimental to help the creature break free too early because it is in the actual struggle itself that the chick or butterfly will gain the strength to make that final valiant effort that frees it from it’s old trappings. That pretty much sums up a character's internal journey and arc.

This is actually a good picture of a character arc:


You can see the small, incremental steps, moving things forward and upward as well. Small points on the graph eventually build to a whole new place.

By plotting out your character’s growth toward change (either consciously or instinctively) you create a forward momentum in your story, a sense of true movement. Those small steps build on each other. As a writer, knowing and understanding those changes that have to occur help us to design or shape our scenes so they pack the most punch.

Sometime the small steps will be incredibly subtle, as subtle as a shift in perception by the character, a recognition that there is a problem, or that the best friend doesn't have her best interests at heart, or the first time she ever, even tentatively, told someone no.

The good news? You should have a ton of material now for these baby steps if you've been following along in the plotting discussion.

I have a confession to make. I have a thing--yes, that sort of thing--for graph paper. In fact, I’m a bit of a graph paper trollop. I love the basic 8x11 size and have about three pads of it on hand at all times, but I also have little flings on the side with 11 x 17 size graph paper and the enormous 17 x 22 size as well, although I admit to indulging in that last size only a couple of times a year.

You can get a pretty clear indication on how overwhelmed I’m feeling by the size of the graph paper I’m using. When I pull out the 17 x 22, you know I’m sinking fast and frantically trying to grasp all the elements of the plot that I’m struggling with.

So how on earth did a writer develop such a whopping crush on graph paper, of all things?

It began small at first, as most addictions do, with an occasional pad of 8 x 12. There was something very special about those little squares, all neatly lined up. There is something freeing about not being constricted by lines on a page. It makes the writing itself more visual, and it allows for more clearly designated groupings.



Sometimes I draw actual diagrams.



Other times, I lay out more sequential time lines.

Sometimes I just scribble things down madly and randomly and then play with the connections. This is usually in the most early stages of the drafting process.




Other times I’ll measure out careful sections of the sheet and list scene log lines so I can “see” the plot at a glance.



Or create a master character graph so I can get a handle on all the character arcs, beats of internal growth for each by act number, so I can be sure I’m making a logical progression and get a sense of the different growth arcs intersect.



Or plot arcs:




Colored pens are a must, too, but that’s the subject of a whole ‘nother post.

She has won an elegant journal in which to confess all of her secret writing desires, and journal her way to her personal, unique artistic vision!

Barbara, email me with your address and I'll get it right out to you!

And thanks to everyone who entered. It was nice to know I wasn't alone...

A lot of attention is paid to the need for discipline in pursuing writing, specifically, the discipline to put one’s butt in the chair and simply write.

But it’s occurred to me lately that discipline issues come in many shapes and sizes. We need discipline not just for B-I-C, but also:

~ for learning the craft
~ for finding the fortitude to do One. More. Stinking. Draft. To get it right.
~ to block out creative distractions—new ideas that beckon seductively or the temptation of learning what certain publishers or agents think is “hot” and therefore selling
~ The discipline to cleave to our own unique creative vision, no matter how much we doubt it or it scares us or that annoying internal editor whispers we’ll be damned if we write that. (Can you tell I struggle with this one a lot?)
~ not coveting thy neighbors publishing deal or marketing plan. This one is also hard, especially with so much information available on the web as to who got how much for what deal and the cyber evidence of how much certain publishers are promoting certain titles.

All of those are death to our writing. And it occurred to me this week that while I’ve been smugly chortling over NOT needing discipline in keeping my butt in the chair, I very much DO lack discipline in some of those areas. So how about you? What areas do you struggle with?

And because this is kind of a brave, public admission, we’ll have a special drawing for everyone who leaves a comment on this post!

Since I am in harrowing danger of becoming a one note blogger, I’ve been trying to decide what else I could blog about in addition to craft. Because lets face it, I will run out of craft stuff to talk about sooner or later. (Although my bff claims that simply is not so; time will tell.)

So I’ve been thinking about what else I do besides write and read. Other than that, I hang out with my family and cook. A lot. Especially now that they’re home for the summer. And then I got to thinking about other writers and how they might be like me, always feeling faintly guilty about time taken away from their families in order to write and how, like me, they might often find themselves struggling with ways to meet their familial obligations and take care of their family.

So I thought I’d try out a new weekly feature here on the blog, Dinner in Twenty. These are my tried and true, crowd-pleasing, approved for picky eater dinners that can be put together in twenty minutes. A few of the recipes I’ll feature take longer than that, BUT they give you enough for two nights, so you get one freebie cooking night (just that much longer to stay at the computer.)

So with no further ado, here is this week’s Dinner In Twenty.


Grilled Teriyaki Steak and Rice
Quick, easy, summery. Doesn't heat up the kitchen. Especially if you can get the husband to do the grilling part. Best of all, my kids always liked it, even when they were at their most picky!

1 flank steak, 1- 1 ½ pounds
Teriyaki marinade (store bought or using below recipe*)
White Rice

Place flank steak in a dish with marinade. Let sit at room temperature for at least a half an hour and up to an hour and a half. (Can also be put in fridge and marinate overnight or all day while you’re at work.)

Fire up grill. (If you are good at broiling stuff, this can also be broiled, but living in Southern California, we always grill. I don't think I've ever used my broiler, come to think of it.) While grill is preheating, start rice. The great thing here is the steak takes about the same amount of time to cook as the rice.

Grill flank steak on medium heat for 15-20 minutes or until medium to med rare, depending on preference. Remove from heat. On cutting board, slice in thin strips against the grain.

Serve over steamed rice, along with either a salad or steamed green beans or zucchini. (And for the record, I am a BIG believer in bagged salad.) Serves four with possible lunch leftovers, depending on how big the eaters are are in your family. If there are only two of you, it's definitely enough for two dinners.

*Homemade Teriyaki sauce:
Mix together:
¼ c soy sauce
2 tb rice vinegar
1 tb honey
1 glove garlic, sliced or minced
pinch of ginger
2 Tb dry sherry or red wine
When mixed, pour over meat to marinade.

Steamed Rice (Just in case someone out there doesn't have much cooking experience.)
1 ½ cup long grain white rice
3 cups water

Combine in 2 qt saucepan and bring to a boil. Turn down heat to low, cover, and steam for 20 minutes.

And that's it! Enjoy.

Okay, one of the things I adore about research is how I always find these great serendipitous connections, and I had to share this latest one.

I’m currently working on the third Nathaniel Fludd book, The Wyvern’s Treasure, which takes place in Wales. And one of the fun, geeky things I’m doing in each book is weaving Fludd ancestors into the history and culture of this different geographic areas. So, I was researching Wales, where Nate and Phil Fludd go to deal with rampaging wyverns, working on creating my fictional history of how Fludds came to have a covenant with these wyverns. And what do I find? In one of the earliest myths about a Welshmen taming a dragon, the Welshman’s name is . . . Lludd. Which is EXACTLY how I was going to Welshify Fludd (that double L thing just screams Welsh). And the name already exists historically, exactly where I need it to!

God, I love my job!

Edited to Add: And the winner of this months drawing is ASPIRING WRITER. The random number was generated in a most scientific fashion, one that involved me calling out to my husband, Pick a number between 1 and 59, and he said 17, which was AA. Email me with your snail mail address AA, and I will get a copy of Character and Viewpoint out to you ASAP.

I’ve been floundering a bit, trying to think of what to blog about, partly because my own writing has stuttered to a halting, bumbling stop. It reminds me a lot of when you’re driving along on one of those perfectly nice stretches of highway, then with a bone-jarring, teeth-rattling thud, hit one of those metal grills across the road to keep cattle from crossing? Yeah, that’s the feeling. But it seemed too lame to blog about, and so I was stuck. Then Aspiring Author came to my rescue with a question in the comments. (Which is a good reminder to you all that you should feel free to ask questions in the comments!)

Her question was on voice, which I covered a lot here, but didn’t answer this specific question.

"What ways can you make two characters talk different? I only know one and that's one seldom speaks and uses short sentences and the other doesn't.
do you know any others? "

It’s a good one, and this is where I would instruct you to all pull out you worksheet from a few weeks ago, found here. If you go down this list, you will see that some of these things will affect speech patterns

Part of this is developing an ear for they variations in ways that people speak. A great learning tool is to go to a food court at a local mall and hang out for a couple of hours, paying very close attention to the conversations around you. Some speech patterns will be clear; the way a mother talks differently from her tween girl, the latter’s usually more peppered with slang (and lots of sighs and eye rolling.) The difference between a boy and girl will be marked too, the boy often using fewer words, if not downright monosyllabic, and the girl more chatty. A group of three girls however, might be very, very similar. My guess is if you knew them better, you would be able to pick them out from their speech patterns alone, but not with a casual listen. And this then is the answer, as an author get to know them well enough that you become aware of their speech patterns.

Now here’s the thing, I don’t think about most of this when I write. The speech patterns come from how the character speaks in my mind, and they all speak very differently. For me, writing is sometimes like being an actor, and I jump back and forth between inhabiting the bodies of my characters and speaking their lines.

However, it can still be broken down, dissected, and analyzed.

How much education do they have? Often that will be reflected in their speech patterns, but to different degree. For example, someone who is very conscious of being “college educated” and for whom it is a really big deal, might consciously choose to use complex words and sentence structure in an attempt to be sure everyone knew about his education.

Gender differences are also present. In her work, You Just Don’t Understand, Deborah Tannen talks about this very thing; women see language as a way to connect, whereas men are more about stating things baldly. Women will sometimes end their sentences with a question mark as a means of not wanting to appear too aggressive, whereas men rarely do.

Sometimes the difference in speech patterns are easy, Theodosia, a girl from the upper classes of Edwardian Britain speaks much differently than Will, the street urchin. The differences between Theo and Grandmother Throckmorton are more subtle, but still there. Grandmother is very stiff and proper, but also she is often saying critical things. And she sniffs a lot.

In Nathaniel Fludd Beastologist, there are some very clear differences between Phil Fludd, the world’s last remaining Beastologist, and young Nate. One’s in their late forties and knowledgeable, educated, world traveled, and trying to reassure and teach Nate. Whereas Nate is a bit timid and uncertain, so it comes through in how he speaks, tending to ask questions, lots of hesitation, and backing into things he isn’t sure about. Cornelius, on the other hand, is very full of himself and over impressed with the Fludd’s and his own status, so speaks in a very stuffy sort of tone.

When all other ways fail to create differences in the way your characters talk, consider assigning them all some speech tics and unique word choices. Some people’s speech is more filled with hyperbole, and others with more exclamations or expletives. Other’s speak an a very inclusive manner, wanting to cover all the options and be sure to leave no one out or offend anyone, while others just spit out whatever is on the tip of their tongue, (and often have to apologize for it.)

Develop tic words for them, what is their favorite slang? Swear word? The expression they use when angry, frustrated, sad?

Some use short, to the point sentences, others more flowing or complex sentences.
Simple words versus more evocative words.
Simple sentence structure versus more complex clauses and phrasing.

Some people use lots of adverbs and adjectives and others don’t. Some split their infinitives and end sentences with prepositions. Others don’t. And some people begin their sentences with conjunctions. Not to mention sentence fragments.

Some people are challenging when they speak: “Really? Is that what you think?” And others more placating, “I can certainly see why you might think that, but I’ve found…”

Sometimes characters might be cryptic, Awi Bubu, a character in the upcoming Theodosia and the Eyes of Horus, is very cryptic, and a foreigner to boot, so his speech is a little formal, his syntax a little off, and full of riddles and half answers.

An engineer with a love of precision and clarity will speak differently than an English literature major.

The metaphors they use, the clichés they favor, the analogies they make. All those will flavor their speech patterns.

If they are a pessimist, they will address everything with Eyeore-like glumness, if optimistic, with a more Pooh-like look on the bright side approach.

Also, don't forget if you want to be entered in this months contest for a copy of Orson Scott Card's Character and Viewpoint, today's the last day to leave a comment and be eligible!

Let’s say you’ve spent some time and come up with this perfect conflict for your character. There is even something at stake if she fails. Go you!

Now think of a way to make it worse. Seriously.

My bff, Mary Hershey, and I had an opportunity to attend one of Donald Maass’s all day workshops, and he asked this question. Many times. So often, we got to giggling, however, it was highly effective in driving home his point. Push the limits. Dare to take your character to the wall, then blow the wall away and take him even farther than that.

So, have you found a way to make it worse? Good.

Now make it matter even more. No, I’m not kidding. And there is a subtle different between making something worse, and making it matter more. Making something worse is about upping the stakes, making it matter more is about upping the emotional intensity of those stakes.

For example, when I was writing Theo, my initial external conflict was that she was going to discover this cursed artifact and removing the curse was going to fall on her shoulders. To make it worse, I decided that curse had the power to bring feast, famine, drought, and destruction to the entire country. To make it matter even more, to twist the conflict so that it uniquely and intensely skewered Theo, I had it be her mother who had unknowingly unleashed this horror on the world. For a child who felt responsible for her parents and whose familial role was to take care of them, this really upped the intensity of the conflict. Not only was it the worst that could happen (death and destruction on a national scale) but it would be her family’s fault, which gave her an added impetus to stop it.

So now take a look at your conflict.

How can you make it worse?

How can you make it matter even more?

Can you make it even worse than that? Oh go on, try. I bet you can.

Some things to consider:
Make your characters suffer. Whoever your hero cannot live without, cannot possibly succeed without, remove them. (Maass suggests killing him, but I write for kids so I take a gentler approach.)
What is your character’s greatest asset? Take it away.
What is sacred to your hero? Undermine it.
How much time does he have? Shorten it.
What matters most to your character? Threaten it.

You get the idea.

The thing is, Maass said that of all the manuscripts that cross his agency’s desks, few fail because they go too far or push too hard. No, the majority of them fail because they don’t go far enough, they don’t take things to their extremes. Which relates to my post of a couple of weeks ago about failing gloriously. Don’t let your failure be a whimpering one. If you aim for the bleachers, you have a better chance of getting past first base.

(Or something like that. I’m not so good with sports metaphors.)