Category: Writing Advice

Hello, readers. It’s been quite a busy year and a half for me–longer, actually. I’ve mostly been sticking to my freelance work–editing, beta reading, and writing–this whole time. I’ve also started using another tool to get my writing out there: Vocal. I want to share with you what I’ve discovered so far.

On Vocal, you can share your writing and get paid for it. After you create an account, you create a post (similar to a blog post), publish it (with Vocal’s approval), and wait for people to read it. You then receive $3.80 for every 1,000 reads. If you’re a Vocal+ member, you also get the chance to enter challenges with cash prizes. I’ve seen at least one challenge with a $10,000 first-place prize. Once your balance is $35, or $20 for Vocal+ creators, you can withdraw. Vocal only uses Stripe, but that’s a minor obstacle to overcome if you don’t already have an account.

You can post pieces in any number of subjects. Right now, the communities include 01 (technology), Beat (music), Blush (beauty), Cleats (soccer), Confessions (for all confessions from romantic fails to childhood pranks and beyond), Criminal (true crime), Earth (pretty self-explanatory), Education (again, self-explanatory), Families, Feast (food), Fiction, Filthy (for the sexually curious), Futurism, FYI (obscure knowledge and facts), Gamers, Geeks (fanboys, movie franchises, and more), Horror, Humans (relationships), Interview, Journal (work), Lifehack (DIY), Longevity (healthy living), Marriage, Motivation, Petlife, Photography, Poets, Potent (marijuana lifestyle and cannabis culture), Pride (LGBTQIA+), Proof (alcohol), Psyche (mental health), Serve (soldiers, veterans), Styled (fashion), Chain (cryptocurrency), Swamp (politics), Trader (investing), Unbalanced (sports and the culture around them), Viva (being a woman), Wander (travel), and Wheel (cars). As you can see, Vocal lets writers explore virtually all subjects to their hearts’ content. Better yet, you can read other creators’ stories on virtually any subject you want.

So far, Vocal has been a lukewarm experience for me. Like with any other publishing outlet, it can be hard to get readers when you’re getting started. As a result, I haven’t raised too much money yet. I also have yet to win any of the challenges, but a lot of people enter those. It’s just a matter of perseverance, constantly improving on your writing, and continuing to enter all the challenges that you can. The process for withdrawing can be a pain with how long it takes, but if it means that the transaction is secure, I don’t see too much to complain about. Most people will also probably prefer to use the free Vocal membership rather than Vocal+ since Vocal+ is $9.99/month.

There are pros to this experience. When you submit a story, you have the chance of being chosen for a Top Story. Top Stories get featured on the home page, the main page of the community they’re posted to, and the Top Stories page. This generates more readers. You also get an extra $5 if your story becomes a Top Story. I’ve recently discovered that you get extra money for reaching certain milestones, such as publishing a total of ten stories.

As of the writing of this post, I have had two Top Stories, both of which are based on posts from this blog. One of them is a modified version of “Writers on Writing: Anne Rice,” updated to honor the author in light of her death. The other is a modified version of “Disney’s Grown Up: Frozen Through the Eyes of GAD,” also updated to reflect recent issues with the Walt Disney Corporation. They are my best-read pieces on Vocal. Oddly enough, an updated version of “Academic/Essay Writing: A Creative Act” has been my worst-read piece. Of course, not many people are interested in academic and essay writing, so it makes sense.

Overall, I think Vocal is worth trying. It might take a while to make money, and you will need to invest a lot of self-promotion. Regardless, the site can help get your writing out there. You can also support other writers by reading their pieces.

To check out the site and join, follow this link. You can also read what I’ve posted to Vocal by visiting my profile.

Happy Tuesday, fellow writers! I hope that you all had a fun and safe weekend (three-day weekend for Americans). I spent most of my weekend recovering from a huge surge in work plus the hand-in of my dissertation portfolio. I officially turned in my creative writing portfolio for my master’s program last Wednesday, and now I wait impatiently for the results. In the meantime, I’ve been continuing with my freelance orders and plugging away at my novel, a chunk of which became my creative writing portfolio. I have also been keeping my ear out for any writing-related news, and one piece in particular has brought me to today’s topic: plotting, pantsing, and plantsing.

Before I get into what these are and the debate about them, I want to discuss what got me thinking about this subject in the first place. You’ve probably noticed a fair amount of discussion regarding Game of Thrones floating around social media lately. It’s hard to ignore. Even if you don’t watch the show or read the books–I’m ashamed to say that I am such a person–the conversation has been interesting to follow, especially from a writer’s perspective. In particular, a Twitter thread from a writer explaining why this season feels so different has caught my attention.

In this thread, the author, Daniel Silvermint, pins the difference on a shift from pantsing to plotting. Silver mint makes some very compelling points, so I suggest you go to the thread and read it for yourself. However, it does lend itself to the question, can your writing really change when you’re plotting versus when you’re pantsing?

To answer this question, we need to know what these terms mean. Essentially, they are two different ways of writing a story. The first, plotting, is pretty self-explanatory. If you’re a plotter, you plot out your entire story before you start writing. You could probably argue that J.K. Rowling is a plotter. Conversely, panters figure things out as they go, letting their characters organically develop the plot based on their actions, reactions, and the consequences of these. Such writing is called pantsing because you’re said to be writing by the seat of your pants. George R.R. Martin is a notorious pantser. A third way of writing, called plantsing, is also acknowledged. When you’re a plantser, you fall somewhere in the middle. You plan some things, you fly by the seat of your pants with others. I am personally a plantser.

Each method has its pros and cons, and no one method is considered superior to the others. However, they are three distinctly different ways of approaching your writing with often distinctly different results. As you might imagine, plotting usually results in a story which is more focused on the plot, pantsing begets a story more reliant on character development, and plantsing is somewhere in the middle. As with most things, these results are not guaranteed, but they are generally how the different kinds of writing tend to go.

So, in the case of Game of Thrones, the first few seasons felt more focused on character development because the writing more closely mimicked George R.R. Martin’s pantsing style. The final season, on the other hand, required the screenwriters to wrap things up on their own because Martin has not finished writing the book series. As they had a limited time in which to wrap everything up, they became more focused on plotting out what needed to happen to tie up all loose ends. The result is not necessarily a worse story than if they had continued pantsing but a different story. Maybe it is actually worse than the rest, maybe not; I really won’t know until I watch the show. What I do know from Silvermint and other fans is that the story is different in the plotted seasons than in the pantsed ones.

But does the way you approach your writing really change it so much that readers notice? If you look at Game of Thrones, then the answer is a resounding YES. The whole truth, though, is much deeper than character-focused vs. plot-focused. Your approach can, in fact, change the quality of your writing. The fact is that one approach might come more naturally to you than the others. If you hit on the one which more organically fits with you, your writing will be much smoother, more eloquent, and more enjoyable overall. If you’re working with an approach that does not fall in line with your nature, your writing will feel forced, artificial, and hard to read. As with everything in writing, it depends on finding what works for you, not what is considered “right” by the general populace.

Plotting, pantsing, and plantsing are equally valid approaches to writing. They might result in different focuses, but that does not mean that one approach should be held in higher regard than the others. The only problem comes when you try and force yourself to use a method which does not make sense for you and for the story. You might even have times when you’ve used one method with success in the past and it just does not work for your current WIP. The key is figuring out when a writing/planning style feels unnatural to you. If it does, try another way and see if it works better. Each approach might be valid, but only one is valid for both you and your story simultaneously.

Happy Monday, everyone! Here’s to another hectic week. Today I want to talk about something which I think that all writers–authors, poets, essayists, journalists, etc.–can relate to: deciding what writing advice to follow.

A very common procrastination technique for writers is to search for advice on writing. I know I do it. I mean, hey, there are less productive forms of procrastination, right? It’s better than spending all day on Facebook or playing solitaire. Of course, if you spend too much time doing this, you’ll lose all your writing time. However, there is another–equally prohibiting–problem which results from searching for writing advice: you follow it too closely.

How can you follow writing advice too closely, you might ask. Surely it is posted online and published in books so that people can follow it, and how can you go wrong when the advice comes from a famous writer? While famous writers are genuinely trying to help others (or make some easy money) by giving them guidelines or rules to follow, there’s just one problem with their generosity: they are telling you how to write like them, not like you.

I encountered the matter recently on a post published five years ago on the blog Published to Death. In it, the blogger explains some of the flaws with the advice Stephen King gives in his book, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft and how it is flawed. She also explains that following King’s “rules” will make your writing sound like, well, King’s writing. But, as this article points out, do you really want that?

I cannot personally attest to how King presents his advice on writing. Truthfully, I’ve never read it. However, I do know that many writers, while trying to express what works for them, make it sound as though their way to write is the only right way. Needless to say, that is wrong, but often novice–and even experienced–writers try and follow their word as though it’s gospel.

The aforementioned blog post points out a key reason as to why you should not heed even famous writers’ advice this closely: no one can teach talent. Famous authors, poets, essayists, etc. write intuitively. They just know what works and what doesn’t and, when faced with negative feedback, they can usually figure out a suitable fix. This comes from a natural talent that has been nurtured and built upon for years. They have learned what hits a harmonious note with their writing style and talents, and they use this knowledge to their advantage. Unfortunately, that is not something you can teach someone else in 100-200 pages or in a semester-long class.

Does that mean that only the anointed few can become successful writers? Of course not! Anyone can learn and work to improve their writing skills and cultivate their unique voice. You just can’t expect that by following a famous writer’s advice that you’ll magically become a critically-acclaimed and/or bestselling author.

It is a good idea to listen to and learn from a more experienced colleague’s advice. Still, you need to remember that your writing must be your writing in your voice. Collect all the wisdom you can and then customize it. Find out what works for you, what doesn’t, and use your new tools accordingly. No one understands your style better than you do, so only you can decide how you should write.

Do you read advice on writing? Or do you avoid it? If you do read it, how do you choose which advice to follow and which to ignore? Leave your thoughts in the comments below!

Happy Friday, and May the 4th be with you! I apologize for my absence over the last week or so; I’ve been handling some projects which are taking a lot more time than I had originally estimated. Then today I was watching the Star Wars marathon on TBS. (I have officially fallen in love with John Boyega! Too bad they stopped with The Force Awakens; no spoilers for The Last Jedi, please.) Watching these movies have gotten me thinking about a part of writing which can be incredibly difficult, especially for genre writers: developing believable villains.

In the Star Wars movies I’ve watched, I’ve seen examples of believable villains, unbelievable villains, and some that are in between. Darth Vader: believable. Kylo Ren: in between. Jabba: eh. The Emperor: unbelievable. With plot-driven movies like Star Wars and their literary parallels, it’s easier to get away with characters like The Emperor; they’re over the top and relentlessly evil but at least they drive the plot forward.

Still, relying on such villains can grow tiresome. They have virtually no depth and are evil just to be evil. No emotional connection forms between the reader (or viewer in the case of movies) and this antagonist. They only cheer for their deaths or other forms of downfall because it means the hero/heroine is triumphant.

So, what does make a well-developed villain?

Well, they’re like any other character. They need a unique, complex personality and a strong backstory; there needs to be a reason they do what they do. Readers must be able to understand the rationale behind their actions while not necessarily agreeing with them. At the least, we should see some sort of emotional arc to their part of the story, something that shows they aren’t just a villainous caricature.

Let’s switch gears from a fanatic film franchise to a fanatic literary franchise: Harry Potter. The main villain in the Harry Potter books is, obviously, Lord Voldemort. For the first several books, Voldemort seems to be quite the unbelievable antagonist. Is he villainous and someone whom our hero should fight? Of course! In that way, he is believable. However, in the beginning we know little about him except for the fact that he’s done horrendous things and he’s out to kill Harry.

In Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, though, Voldemort leaps from a flat character to well-rounded as we learn more about his background. His hatred of Muggles starts to make sense as does his heartlessness; we even find several parallels between Voldemort and Harry, a possible psychological reason for why Voldemort decided to go after Harry instead of Neville when they were babies. Readers certainly do not feel that his actions are justified, and thus he remains believable as an evil character. Still, we understand him better, which makes him more believable as a character overall.

We see similar development in the Star Wars prequels with the creation of Darth Vader from Anakin Skywalker. We see him go from an innocent little boy to a promising young Jedi and, finally, the broken, sad, and angry Darth Vader we know and hate in the original Star Wars trilogy. Even before the prequels in the original trilogy itself we see complex emotional development for Darth Vader, a glimmer of humanity which makes us want him to come back to the Light Side.

When push comes to shove, humans are complex emotional beings. We constantly fight with the dark side within us–and sometimes the light side if we’re already immersed in our darker tendencies. As readers and viewers, we want to see that struggle reflected in fiction. That’s why a believable villain can be a genre writer’s greatest secret weapon as well as their biggest challenge. Make readers feel emotional attachment to your villains while still rooting against them and you’re golden. Neglect to develop your villains and you can still have a successful story; you will just lose some potential depth and genius material.

What do you think? Do you prefer villains that are believable as people? Or do you prefer for them to just be a physical embodiment of the evil the heroes are fighting? Leave your thoughts in the comments below!

 

I have a teachable moment I’d like to share with you. I slipped on the editing for the most recent critical response I turned in for my Master’s program. It wasn’t terribly bad, but there were still two mistakes and that’s bad for me. I had been working on it for hours before I submitted it, and that made me sloppy. I left a word I meant to remove and two words were flipped. This incident just reminded me that even editors need help sometimes, which brings me to the worst-kept secret in the writing/publishing world: everyone makes mistakes.

Whether you’re a writer or editor, you are just as capable of making a mistake as anyone else. Maybe you missed a comma or used “compliment” instead of “complement”. Maybe, in your haste to get the words out, you skip one or accidentally type them out of order. You could even be editing work for a client and forget some obscure grammatical rule, thus allowing an error to slip into the final copy. It happens to even the best writers and editors. That’s why we all need a second pair of eyes for editing and proofreading.

Before I go any further, I need to clear up a common murky area. As minor as it seems, there is a difference between editing and proofreading. Editing involves an in-depth examination of the writing for flow, word choice, style, and, yes, spelling and grammatical errors. This process usually goes hand-in-hand with rewriting, albeit after the beta reading stage. (Of course, it all depends on what your personal writing process is.)

Proofreading, on the other hand, happens much later in the writing cycle. It typically takes place just before the work hits the shelves, physical and electronic. Proofreaders check for grammar and spelling as well as other superficial elements of the work, including the work’s layout. (For example, they would let you know if there’s weird paragraph formatting in an e-book or an inconsistency in font size/style.)

No matter if you write short stories, novels, poems, or essays, editing and proofreading are essential. Otherwise, you will end up with egg on your face. If you work as an editor professionally, you still need to have a second set of eyes look over your writing, even for a school assignment. (Don’t let your pride get in the way like mine did. As my mother always says: if you can’t be a good example, at least be a horrible warning.)

Poorly-edited writing is one of the quickest ways to alienate potential readers. If your work is riddled with spelling and grammatical errors or it lacks flow, readers will not want to suffer that no matter how good the plot or message behind it is. Unfortunately, too many self-published writers make this mistake. They assume that they have looked through the writing enough to have caught all the errors and proceed to publish their books or collections without getting someone else to look at it. Why? One word: money.

Professional editing and proofreading cost a lot of money. Even Fiverr editors and proofreaders can charge a pretty penny, if they’re good and experienced. Mind you, some charge less and are still good, but they are typically either desperate for money or new to freelance editing, so don’t expect their rates to stay that cheap over time. (I’ve been that freelancer and I’ve learned quite a bit since I started a year ago.)

It’s preferable to get an unbiased editor or proofreader, but if you can’t afford it, friends and family are better than nothing. Some might be too kind to let you know about your errors but others aren’t, so if you rely on friends and family for editing, make sure to cast your net wide. That way, you’ll have a better chance of getting someone who will be honest and helpful.

One is better than none, but two or more editors and proofreaders will be your best bet. Like I said before, everyone in this industry makes mistakes. We’re only human, after all. Sometimes errors just run by us unnoticed. The English language is also very complicated. It’s hard to keep track of all the rules and exceptions. Very few, if any, people know all the rules and apply them properly. That’s not to mention the issue of American English vs. Queen’s English (U.K., Canada, Australia, New Zealand, etc.). For those reasons, multiple editors and proofreaders are preferable to one.

This process is long and tedious, and you need to take this into account while planning your book release timeline, if you’re self-publishing. There will be no instant gratification. However, editing and proofreading are essential. It’s bad enough to turn in a short assignment with one or two spelling/grammatical errors; publishing a full-length book unedited could ruin your career before it’s really begun. Even if you’re submitting your manuscript to a traditional agent or publisher, you’ll want it to be fairly polished. Otherwise, they won’t take you seriously.

Do you think editing and proofreading are necessary? What has been your experience in these areas? Have you had better luck with professional editors and proofreaders, or have friends and family worked just as well for you? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.

 

We all know the saying, “you can’t see the forest for the trees.” Translation: you can’t see the “big picture” because you’re too focused on the details. It’s one of my favorite sayings. I also think writers and artists in general would do well to keep it in mind. How many times have you focused so much on minor details that you don’t realize until it’s too late that you have no plot? That you develop a world without a story? Characters without a motive? I have, and I’m sure I will again. That’s why writers need to learn to balance the details and the big picture.

Now, oftentimes stories grow from small details. I’ve found that that is especially true for science fiction and fantasy. Consider the origin story for Harry Potter: J.K. Rowling got the idea of a boy going to wizard school, and the rest of the details–including the big picture–followed. One moment, one seemingly insignificant detail, can be the building block for the entire story. However, that does not mean that we should focus on the details in the hopes that the big picture will just appear from these details.

As a fantasy writer, I’ve experienced this issue a lot. Details about some fantastic world swarm my mind, even details about individual characters and how they would interact. The problem? Sometimes I can’t come up with a viable plot. Sometimes I do–too many to work with, even–but just as often I don’t. I get so absorbed in those minor details, so excited about them, that I lose or forget about any “big picture.” In those cases, I either have to force myself to create a plot or shelve the project for another time.

Of course, the opposite can be true as well. Some writers become so focused on the big picture–namely the overarching plot–that they neglect crucial details. Characters become flat, settings aren’t vivid enough for the reader, and inconsistencies pick at the plot’s viability. The basic plot might be solid, but the lack of focus on details can make the story unravel.

Usually, these are the sorts of mistakes we find in first drafts. Why wouldn’t we? The first draft, after all, is where we tell ourselves the story. Then we go through rigorous sessions of rereading, rewriting, beta readers, editing, proofreading, etc., to fix these issues. The problem becomes when we don’t go through these cycles to improve our manuscripts. When we’re one-and-done, publishing the story with only minimal editing, we risk distributing a manuscript with a shallow “big picture.”

So, then, how do we balance the details and the big picture? Really, there’s not magic formula to this. There never is when it comes to writing, to art of any kind. Instead, we have to take it on a case-by-case basis. However, I think that there’s one thing we can do to at least catch these mistakes before they make it out into the world. Yes, we need to edit and proofread. Still, we can catch the imbalance even before beginning the editing/proofreading process. For a moment, I want to look to painters for this solution.

Painters, obviously, cannot work on the entire canvas at once. They have to work on one section at a time, maybe even one detail at a time, like Lela Stankovic discusses in her guide Painting Glorious Rose Flowers in Watercolor. However, there always comes a time when the painter stops what he/she is doing, takes a step back, and observes his/her WIP in its entirety. Then, even if they aren’t entirely sure why something is a problem, they’ll realize if something is off about the work and work on making it right.

Writers can use the same technique. Just stop what you’re doing and take a step back. Look at your WIP in its entirety. Sometimes, you’ll just notice if you made a spelling or grammatical error. Other times, you’ll catch continuity errors. Still other times you’ll feel that something is off but not quite know what, and that’s when the real work begins; that’s when you must try and approach your work with a fresh eye in order to figure out what’s wrong about this draft.

From what I’ve experienced, the only way to balance your attention to detail and your view of the big picture is to step back every now and then to review your whole work. Often, you’ll probably have to walk away from your WIP for a while before reviewing it to give you a new perspective on your writing. Besides, you’ve probably been working for hours, days, months–you deserve a break.

The best way to see the forest through the trees is to back away; put more than just a single tree in your line of sight and you’ll soon be looking at the entire forest. The same is true in writing, in any art, really. Narrow your focus too much, and you won’t notice bigger problems. Keep your focus too wide, and you’ll slip up on the details. As with everything, balance is the key–but it’s up to you to figure out how to achieve that balance.

What are your thoughts? Do you lose sight of the bigger picture when you focus too much on details? Forget the details when you’re too focused on the bigger picture? How do you balance the two? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.

 

One of the trickiest parts of fiction writing is making the characters feel real to the readers. They have to seem like unique human beings without being too over-the-top. How do we do that? One subtle way is to give your characters idiosyncrasies.

Idiosyncrasies: mannerisms unique to a particular individual. We all have them. Occasionally, we even drive people crazy with them. For example, my father has a habit of twitching his foot or shaking his leg while he’s sitting. This drives me nuts, but I’m one to talk; I have the same habit but sometimes so quickly that it’s like I’m the Energizer Rabbit on Red Bull. Of course, that amuses my father and annoys my mother to no end, but I digress.

Our idiosyncrasies and how we respond to other people’s idiosyncrasies reveal a lot about us. For instance, my foot twitching/shaking shows my high level of anxiety. My mother’s reaction to that habit highlights her frustration at not being able to make me less anxious. (It could also suggest that she’s high-strung, but given everything else I know about her, that is definitely NOT the case.)

Giving characters subtle habits which no other character in the story has layers their character development. They are also fairly easy to slip in. Your protagonist is sitting in a coffee shop waiting for a friend who’s running late? Have him/her start ripping up the wrapper the straw came in. Your knight is stuck having a conversation with the royal wizard whom he is secretly annoyed by? Have him scrape dirt off the bottom of his boot with a dagger.

Idiosyncrasies are not only easy to slip in but can be used to convey a wide variety of moods and personality traits. Let’s take the coffee shop example. Tearing the wrapper could indicate concern for the friend who’s late. It could also show anger or annoyance at the friend’s tardiness. Better yet, it might have nothing to do with the friend running late; maybe your protagonist just got laid off and is worried about making rent, or maybe they’re trying to decide how to tell their friend that they caught his/her partner cheating on him/her. So much happens beneath the surface, but idiosyncrasies can give readers a hint at what’s brewing in the character’s subconscious.

Of course, you don’t want to go overboard. Sometimes you have to let a conversation just be dialogue. This is especially true when you need to speed up the pace and smooth out the reading for some high-impact drama. Still, you need to occasionally sneak in the idiosyncrasy so that the reader knows it’s an ongoing habit with some significance. If you only use it once or twice, it will seem superfluous. Besides, some drama requires slowing the pace down to increase the tension, and these little habits can achieve that masterfully, if used prudently.

Idiosyncrasies can be endearing, infuriating, or flat out annoying. The choice is up to you and how you want to use them. The important thing is to make sure that they are unique to that character; if you decide to have more than one character have the same idiosyncrasy, give that coincidence a purpose. After all, when you see that people have something in common, you’ll probably find that that’s not all they share.

What’s been your experience with giving characters idiosyncrasies? Have you found them to be useful in character development? Or do they just get in the way of the action? Leave your thoughts in the comments below.

 

Earlier this week, I received feedback from my supervisor for the beginning of a fantasy novel I’m working on. As always, there was both praise and room for improvement. One recommendation really stuck out at me: consider changing the point of view. Of course, this advice isn’t so easy to follow after you’re more than a couple pages into the narrative. Even if the change is necessary, rewriting everything written to that point can be a chore. Makes me wonder: how does a writer choose a POV? How does he/she know it’s right before they get in too deep?

The problem: sometimes they don’t know. At least, they don’t know until they’re several, maybe even a hundred, pages into their writing.

The kind of POV you use depends on the kind of story you’re trying to write. Some of them have an obvious choice. An autobiography or semi-autobiographical piece of fiction, for example, should both be told in first person.  Others, however, have too many options for there to be an easy decision.

The decision hangs on the effects which the POV has on the story. Does the reader need to feel close to the narrator, as with first person? Or would the distance caused by third person work better? Does the reader need to see more of the big picture than what a first-person narrator can provide? Does the story justify making the reader the narrator enough to use second person?

Sometimes we know immediately which POV would be best for our story. I’ve had many stories which I knew instinctively which POV I should use. Other times, you won’t know if you’re using the wrong POV until you’ve finished the first draft. That can be a pain, but it’s a matter of telling yourself the story first in order to understand the direction in which it must go.

There are also times when you won’t know until someone else reads it. Being so close to the work, you might not know when the POV is wrong. That’s where beta readers come in. They can tell you if something is off with draft; they might not always know that it’s the POV, but they can at least give you some guidance toward understanding the problem. Again, it’s a pain to have to conduct such a thorough rewrite, but it’s a labor of love (and frustration and exhaustion and caffeine).

You might even need more than one beta reader to figure out what to do. You might be attached to first person but your first reader thinks you should consider third person. Unless you are absolutely certain, deep in your bones, that your POV choice is the right one, you might want to get a third or even fourth opinion. If multiple people think you need to change the POV, you should give it some serious thought. (I might have to take this approach with figuring out what to do with this fantasy novel.)

The important thing to remember is that, when it comes down to it, the POV is your choice. Everything about your story is your choice. There have been many examples of writers being told that a writing choice is a bad idea but the author stuck to it. In the end, they were right. In other examples, they decide against the original choice and that turned out to be right. The entire process of writing, rewriting, editing, and proofreading is long and laborious. That’s why you don’t see books that are written in one night and then immediately put on the shelves. Writing is all about trial-and-error, and that’s one of the best, most rewarding parts of the craft.

What’s been your experience with choosing POV? Do you always know which POV you need to use when you start? Or do you often decide halfway through to start all over from another perspective? Leave your thoughts and experiences in the comments below!

 

Warning: The topic of this post, sex and literature, might contain discussion inappropriate for minors. If you are under 18 years of age, proceed with caution.

In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been reviewing a lot of romance and erotica novels lately. Just to warn you, that’s not about to stop. However, I think it’s best that I take some time to discuss the elephant in the room which has been conjured by these reviews: sex and literature.

It’s no secret that romance and erotica are not viewed as very high-brow. In fact, in terms of modern literature, they’re seen as about as low-brow as you can get. I don’t think that this bias has been eased any by the rising popularity of Fifty Shades of Grey. However, not all romance and erotica should be considered low-brow, and those are not the only literary genres which involve sex scenes.

Fantasy, science fiction, historical fiction, even literary fiction can all have sex scenes. In fact, I can’t think of very many books in fantasy and science fiction (outside of children’s literature, of course) which don’t. Anne McCaffrey and Anne Rice have certainly never shied away from the subject. Don’t even get me started on Shakespeare.

Why wouldn’t sex be prominent in literature? It’s perfectly natural, after all. The vast majority of adult humans do it. (Not all, but most.) And yet we’re not very comfortable talking–reading–about it. We hush up those who do as “vulgar” or brush the subject off with humor, and we hide away our favorite romances and erotica like a bag of weed.

If it’s so indecent, so low-brow that we can’t even talk about it, should sex play a part in literature at all? After all, children could get a hold of it! Never mind that we should keep half an eye on them and put away that which we don’t want them to see. They might still see it.

All sarcasm and bitterness aside, sex is one of many subject matters which people question having in literature because of its “indecency.” Regardless, it remains. As a natural part of human relations, it naturally seeps into products of our cultures.  To avoid it would be to leave a glaring hole in our characters’ lives.

The question, then, is how descriptive should sex scenes actually be? I’m one of many who blush when reading too many…anatomical details in these scenes. That does not make these details good or bad, it’s just how I personally react as a reader. Still, as a reader and writer, I also know that these depictions can be necessary. Therefore, I don’t want to restrict how descriptive sex scenes can be.

Does that mean that all detailed sex scenes are appropriate? No. In fact, I dare you to find ten such scenes which are well-handled and appropriate for the work. You probably won’t. Nevertheless, I would rather allow for such filth than to oppress possible beauty.

Sex in literature can be a metaphor for power struggles, battle of the genders, trust and submission, loss of innocence, good versus evil, etc. Sometimes that necessitates detailed depictions. Other times not. It’s up to the writer to decide what is appropriate.

Unfortunately, they don’t always do. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have sex in literature period. No, it has too much literary and socio-politico-cultural potential for that. Rather, we need to use it with discretion, even in romances and erotica. After all, a dessert can be too sweet, right? Then sex scenes can be too steamy, too.

What’s your opinion? Does sex serve a productive role in literature? Or it is just fluff to get the reader’s blood pumping? Should we consider romance and erotica to be low-brow, or can some of these books actually be literary? Should we write about sex in literature at all? Leave your thoughts in the comments below!