Writing tips

[This article is a work in progress. These are tips that work for me. They are not here to convince anyone or contradict what the professionals say.]

I document writing tips on a whiteboard always within arm's length. My what if? questions that eventually become stories go here as well. The problem is my nieces and nephews erase the whiteboard on a daily basis. It's time to modernise. As time rolls by, I'll add and expand these points:

Limit the use of adverbs ending with ly. The adverb seriously cheats the writer. For example: The girl smiled flirtatiously. The reader "imagines" a flirtatious smile, sure, but the writer hasn't really thought about what qualifies the smile; perhaps she's biting her lower lip or, maybe, she tossed her hair back or tucked it behind her ear. So where would I use an adverb like the one above? I'll use it where I want to conceal a character that's unimportant. But, if "the girl" is a key "player" you're going to see her smile flitartiously; heck, she's going to be nibbling her index finger when she does.

Sometimes I struggle in finding the right verb. So, naturally, an adverb pops into my head. Let's work with a simple example: "Oh, Casanova," she whispered sexily, "you're so hot." Looking back at that sentence, I'll try making her purr or moan. No doubt you created a mood before this sentence. They've already had dinner by candlelight and they're drinking wine on a couch with her legs thrown over his. So when she says, "Oh, Casanova, you're so hot." the reader knows she isn't barking like a damn dobberman. In fact, the reader is smiling sexily. I avoid sentences like he ran swiftly, he said angrily. There are verbs like dash and snap. By finding the right verb I'll cut back on my word count.


Avoid the obvious. Why say He could think of in his mind, She saw with her eyes, They heard with their ears? But certainly, if your alien superhero's brains is in his big toe, you be sure to say so.


Be "cautious" about "to be" verbs, particularly in fiction. I wouldn't pretend to know or understand all the mechanics. I don't. What I do know is that the following sentences worry me, especially if I'm developing character:

* They were worried.
* The interviewer was bored.
* He was flabbergasted.
* Three persons were shot earlier today.

These sentences either hide the actor or mood. (Journalists can't help but be fond of passive writing.) Passive constructs play the role of the adverb because the writer hasn't explored his/her imagination. It's easy to say They were worried if 3 women were told their sons were missing (notice how I also hid who told the women their sons were missing?). What's a bit more challenging is imagining what "worry" might look like for a particular character, considering their age and experience. Let's assume that a little boy runs swiftly up to a lakehouse and breathlessly tells 3 women their sons are missing. It's a turning point in my story and I write: They were worried. Reboot and try again.

Mary sat in a rocking chair and stared at the ceiling. Screaming, Alanis went inside and turned on loud rock music. Martha grabbed up three lifesavers and followed the boy back to the lake.

Through their actions, the reader has learnt a lot about the characters and the lakehouse. We've all seen movies with terrible actors who can't "show" anger, worry, happiness or confusion. They almost need cue cards that tell the audience "They were worried."

Naturally, showing involves more words. Well, not all scenarios need expansion. So I'm okay with The aiport lounge was crowded. If I'm not I can let my character walk past a lounge crowded with suits and sit at a gate cluttered with Jehovah Witnesses on their way to a convention in Florida. Maybe if I'm building a mystery I'd want to omit the actor. But I'm cautious and I note every usage.

Avoid overusing helpful words. I note every:

* were
* was
* been
* being.
* had been
* so
* that
* which
* very
* the
* who
* and then


Don't let readers hear, see, taste, touch, smell or feel something on behalf of a character. (More on this later on.)

Edit your script one month after you write it. Like computer experts, most writers are vain people. Every line is a great because it's my line. Yet I've looked back at sentences I've written and scoffed. I'll make one or two passes on this article and publish it. Then reading it over, I'll rush to edit this post. Writers often blame publishers for errors. The bad news is most readers blame the writers.

There are different approaches to editing. Some edit after every sentence; others at the end of paragraphs. Some don't move on until a page is perfect. Others edit as soon as they finish a story. With all these approaches there's familiarity, and familiarity breeds contempt. Sometimes when we see someone we haven't seen in ages, we exclaim, "You look so different!" Glance over your script at least one month after and you'd say the same thing. You'd also scratch your head at some of those golden lines and say, "I can't believe I wrote so much shit."

During editing the mission is to make the writing as lean as possible. Fat is tasty, but too much is unhealthy. It's a lot easier to trim unnecessary adverbs and adjectives one month later. A question that helps me is: if this word, sentence or paragraph isn't here would the reader miss it?

Making corrections on "printed paper" works best for me. What scares me most is the corrections that have to be transferred back to the computer. Sometimes, during editing, I introduce new errors. Nightdesk editors complain about this all the time: yes, I made the bloody change on paper, but the typist didn't type the correct thing.

In computer programming there's a concept called pair programming where a business team member looks on while a technical team member types. It's a great strategy not only because two heads are better than one but also because there's a knowledge transfer. So during my final edit where corrections are being made to softcopies I get at least one person to look over my shoulder (remember I'm self-published, I don't have a lot of luxury. If I sink or swim I have only myself to blame). As I make changes, I highlight the modified sentence, the sentence before it and the sentence after it, never a "single" word because it's possible that modifications or introductions can change the structure of what has gone and/or what is to come. I let these "red" sentences rest and return to them in two or three days with my "peer".

When all my sentences are black again, I have my product. I expect that it could go into production, but I don't rush off to the printer, not yet. I print the book as it would appear, of course using letter size, duplex printing, front and back cover included. After its bound I toss it aside, neatly, and only pick it up in my spare time. I share it with who's willing to have a go. Assuming there are no grammatical or spelling mistakes, I might see changes I'm tempted to make; but I don't, not unless it's something the reader will absolutely miss, because changes colour my sentences red.