Beyond the Fifth Gate - Review

Those of you who own my creative writing book Pumping Your Muse may remember the flip side exercise that generated a new female character. That character grew to become the protagonist in my novel Beyond the Fifth Gate. Look what the latest review says about her:

Beyond the Fifth Gate has a strong female main character who reminded me of Xena without the long hair or possibly Seven-of-Nine without the spandex. Elita starts off a little weak in her fighting skills (but realistically, how hard would it be to practice when you live in a hive and are guarded day and night by big bugs?) but her first mystical gate provides two teachers who not only give her a crash course, but join her on her quest to freedom. There are plenty of plot twists along the way and the ending is a real shocker which truly caught me off guard just when I thought I had it all figured out.

You can read the entire review at Queen of Convolution.

Review written by:

Caprice Hokstad

Author of the fantasy novel, The Duke's Handmaid, and its sequel, Nor Iron Bars a Cage.

Website: www.Latoph.com

Five Senses in Your Writing - Part 2

The Five Senses

Incorporating all the senses provides familiarity and understanding for the reader. It helps the connect. This sensory information can be used to:

· Transition between the present and important back story

Example: The fresh scent of rain combined with a moist earthy aroma. I stared out at the wilted fields. A curtain of humidity wrapped around me. The rain had come too late.

In this case the sense of smell opens the door to the scene and allows a transition that could take the reader back to the struggle to keep the crops alive and the introduction to the lives of those who depended on those crops. On the other hand, these particular details could also propel the story forward. What will the character do now?

· Tie the beginning of the story to the end

Since you’ll want to weave this sensory information throughout your story, it is an effective way to tie the beginning of the story to the end.

Example: I couldn’t bear the sorrowful faces filling grandmother’s house. I stepped outside for a breath of fresh air and headed to the garden where we had talked so many years before. The light floral scent of lilacs drifted lazily on the summer breeze. I breathed deep and closed my eyes. Grandma stood with me just as she promised. I could feel her.

In this case, we could follow the character through life as an adolescent to adulthood and tie it back to the beginning when they had a life-changing conversation in that same garden. Who knows, maybe even another niece or nephew could walk out to join the character—the thing is that the scent is the trigger to tie the past to the present.

· Evoke emotional responses to create suspense, happiness, fear and more.

Humans are emotional creatures by our very nature. The world around us offers stimuli and we react to it.

Example: The lights blinked and darkness swallowed the room. A surreal coldness fell upon her like a shroud. A slight scent of garlic reminded her of something. A faint memory that tickled her mind like wind brushing leaves of a tree on a summer’s day. She rubbed her arms and stepped blindly forward, her foot tapping in front of her like a blind man’s cane.

This short example can evoke an uneasiness when the lights go out. The coldness kicks up the tension. A hint of garlic would add a bit of curiosity—how does it fit in—what is it? She seems to know, but for some reason has blocked it out. Now she moves forward and we are in her skin. How do you feel?

Nerve Network

Our bodies are designed with a network of nerves. This network sends information to our brains with no effort on our part. As a writer, you create that network from the story to the reader. If panic makes the hairs on the back of your protagonist's neck prickle, the reader should feel it. If they experience a touch of numbness in their index finger, it needs to be part of the information collected by the reader's brain—but the information must serve a purpose. If the reader knows of the numbness, they’ll know later on that the character can withstand an abnormal amount of pain using that finger. Sensory information needs to matter to the plot. The trick is to find the balance.

As writers, we need enough sensatory detail to make our fictional world real, but not so much that it bogs down the action. Think of it more like a trail of breadcrumbs; leading your reader down the path you want them to take. At times, it may even be a misleading trail. Such techniques can be used to create an unforeseen twist in the plot or action.

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If you enjoyed the information in this article, check out Pumping Your Muse. The prompts and insightful information included in this creative writing book challenge the imagination to take new direction and if followed to the conclusion of the book, provide a detailed outline along with completed scenes and developed characters for one novel, as well as a solid start for a second novel.

Five Senses in Your Writing - Part 1

By Donna Sundblad

In my book Pumping Your Muse, I challenge writers with exercises that reach deep into the imagination’s recesses where creative exercises carry the muse on a journey designed to force ideas in resourceful new directions of development. The goal is to pull together bits and pieces or reality and learn to blend them within the fiction-creating process. Adding subtle sensory details works like sensual brush strokes that craft multi-levels of dimension by engaging the reader’s senses.

In real life, details flood our senses on a subconscious level. A hint of smoke presented within the context of your story may warn the character of an electrical fire, or allow them to reminisce about a romantic interlude basking in the firelight, or could even remind them of the invigorating smell of burning of leaves on a crisp fall day.

Good writers furnish this minutia with three-dimensional realism. The trick is to learn to include this information without overpowering the story with overly descriptive passages which bog the story’s pace and sometimes lose the reader. Your goal as a writer is to make the world you portray a real experience. As your reader walks through the pages of your story, engaging the senses allows them to experience the veracity of the world you create.

Moving the Story Along

Sensory information plays an important part in moving your story along. A sound, a scent—such detail provides subtle clues for the reader to follow. Engaging the senses makes a fictional world more real by adding dimension and realism. Stop and take note of your current setting. What do you see, hear, smell, taste and feel? Our brains take in this information subconsciously most times and that’s how you need to present it in your writing. A natural but delicate flow of information.

Pay attention to sounds around you, but not just that—ask yourself what they make you think or feel. Reactions are based on input—sensory input. One goal as a writer is to engage readers so they feel the character’s reaction as if they live in the character’s skin. In my most recent novel, Beyond the Fifth Gate, when my protagonist, Elita, crosses through the portal into a new world to find herself on a narrow ledge overlooking lagoon, a waterfall crashes over head. Crashes is not a gentle sound and raises the tension (no way up). She hears large earth movers...but I don't say she hears...instead large large armored earthmovers rumble as they pile dirt like golden mounds of grain. It's a long way down, and the enemy awaits her there. Subtle details let the reader determine whether or not the character is making the wisest choice.

Here's another example: If your character hides in the woods and hears the crackling of twigs, the reader should feel fear or at least apprehension. A musky scent draws the character’s attention to a wild pig rooting in the moist earth. The character lets out a breath, and the reader relaxes—until gruff snorts and bristling hair on the back of the animal’s neck, and a flash of tusks sends the character rushing blindly through dense foliage. Readers see through the characters eyes when writers provide the right sensory information. It not only makes the story come alive, but it eliminates the need to tell the reader what’s going on or how a character is feeling. Instead, sensory input pulls them into the story to experience it first hand.

In real life, our thoughts wander, but even as they seem to meander from topic to topic, they do follow logic. Writers can create natural segues with the use of sensory details. If your character hears someone laugh and it reminds them of someone they once knew, it provides a natural transition to include backstory without dumping the information in an awkward or obtrusive way. In the same way, if your character smells a hint of electrical smoke it makes sense that they will look for the source. If they come to the laundry room door and it feels hot, many readers will know the character should not open the door—if they do, the reader will brace for the explosion of flame.

In my part two, we'll take a closer look at the five senses in writing.

Balance the Missing Ingredient - Part 2

Part 2 - Balance the Missing Ingredient

by Donna Sundblad

Don’t Digress

Study your manuscript. Have you skipped important details readers want to know while expounding on minor details? Don’t paint the picture of characters loitering at the diner at the truck stop if the characters inside don’t play an important part in the story. Although the interaction between the waitress wearing the bright lipstick and the scrawny truck driver puffing on a cigarette at the bar may be well-written, if it doesn’t matter to the story, it needs to be eliminated. What the reader needs to know about is what is happening in the parking lot? If your protagonist wasn’t able to change the tire and walks to the truck stop nearby does she find trouble or help in the parking lot? Don’t get sidetracked by unimportant details. It waters down the tension. Take out the unnecessary diner details and spend the time outside in the parking lot. I’m not saying every diner detail, just the unnecessary. Draw attention from the diner to outside through the window. Show apprehension on the face of the man looking out the window. Is he the one waiting for the woman in red or a hero waiting to rescue her? Expand pertinent details to keep the pace moving.

Pacing

Pacing or the timing used to move your story forward is accomplished through the use of dialog, incidents, and anecdotes. Using the above example, imagine tires of a black pickup truck squealing into the parking lot of the diner. Headlights spotlighting the middle-aged woman struggling up the ramp into the parking lot offers detail to move the story along. The reader knows the main character hoped to meet a potential love interest here. What happens next? That’s what you want to know and it’s what you want your readers to ask.

“Hey, pretty lady, you look like you need some help.” The burly man stroked his full, tobacco-stained beard like a pet.

“No, no thank you.” She smoothed her hand across her greasy midsection. “My friend is meeting me here.”

Dialog moves the story along. Could this guy be her suitor, or is he a treat? The tension mounts. Dialog should accomplish something. Use it to show the characters’ personality or shine light on information previously unknown. To ensure balance be sure not to force information into dialog in an unnatural way, or allow characters to uncharacteristically perform actions just to make your plot work.

Transitions

Transitioning from one subject or setting to another requires a connecting link. If the story thrusts the reader into a new setting without warning, and confuses them. It leaves them asking, “How did they get there?” and distracts them from the real story. A transition connects scenes. Even if it is one sentence long, a transition adds continuity and logic to the flow of the story.

Balance

Another type of balance is the balance of sentences. Have you ever read a story aloud and tripped over words, or went back to reread because something didn’t flow? Vary the length of sentences. Mix up the length of words used. Read your work out loud and listen. Does the story flow?

Imagine the details of your story to be sand in an hourglass. Each detail is a grain of sand. The top end of the glass contains conflict and tension, which transitions and leaks into the second half of the story. A consistent flow of particulars trickles into the bottom of the hourglass, where each grain of conflict mingles with pertinent details forming an interesting pattern that presents a satisfying resolution. That’s the missing ingredient. The balance of details as they flow and mingle without stopping.

Balance the Missing Ingredient - Part 1

By Donna Sundblad author of Windwalker and Beyond the Fifth Gate

“What’s missing?” Details move your story along. It’s complete with a beginning, middle and end, but your muse clucks its tongue quietly and tells you that it can be better. You agree; something is lacking. But what?

What do you do when inspiration strikes, but when pen meets paper the story doesn’t engage on an emotional level? What good is a story if it doesn’t grab us and demand our attention? Sometimes it’s a matter of walking away from the project for a couple of days so you can look at it with fresh eyes and a clear mind. When you come back to it, it’s easier to see what’s missing.

Look for balance.

Conflict, Tension and Resolution

How many times have you been disappointed with a book or movie and you say, “That’s the end?” Conflict is an essential element when writing fiction, however resolution to that conflict is equally important and necessary. If you introduce conflict without resolution, it leaves the reader unfulfilled.

Pull out a story you want to improve. First, dissect the text. Look for elements of conflict, tension and resolution. With a blue highlighter, mark sections presenting conflict. In the same way, highlight tension in yellow and resolution in green. Conflict should be introduced throughout, with tension ebbing and flowing around it as characters strive toward a goal of some sort. Ultimate resolution will be nestled near the end of the story where it brings all the loose threads together and ties them in a tidy knot, but minor aspects of resolution should be sprinkled throughout the story to lessen tension.

Real life issues, different circumstances everyday even amid a life of routine can be used to create conflict or tension. Stress is a real part of life. After the fact, it makes interesting telling. It’s no different when writing. Without tension the story reads flat and less interesting, but constant tension is no better. The reader needs a break. Yellow highlighted text should be situated within some un-highlighted text. It’s like riding a wave carrying the reader to the top and gently dropping them on the other side ready to start a new wave. One scene should flow into the next as you travel to meet the big wave—the climax.

Inner and Outer Problems

Circumstances intruding on life induce conflict. Character reaction to these circumstances builds tension. For example: If your protagonist meets a potential date on line and he asks her to consider meeting him face-to-face, the internal conflict can deal with the issue of honesty or lack of self-confidence. Should she send her suitor an up-to-date photo of herself? Will she be rejected? What kind of guy wants to meet for a diner at a truck stop? Outer problems include things like getting a flat tire on the way to meet the date, making her late or even greasy with dirty smudges all over her red dress and a big hole in her nylons.

Mingling inner and outer conflict builds tension until it culminates at the climax of the story. The trick is to bring the reader toward the conclusion of the story in the same way—a wave at a time. Even as you head toward the end of the story, tension is a necessary ingredient. It’s the bait that keeps the reader wanting to know what happens next. On the way to the conclusion, check to see that you have resolved each conflict woven into the story line. Dangling details or unanswered questions leave the reader wondering if they missed something.

Bruise and Consequence

Guest Post by Author Teel James Glenn

Bruise and Consequence

based on the book “Them’s Fightin’ Words!” by Teel James Glenn (published by epress-Online.com)

Since the first storyteller sat around a campfire spinning tales of gods and heroes it has been a given that a little action makes a mildly interesting story into a real grabber. Put your hero or heroine in physical jeopardy and you can have a winner. Conflict is the key and physical conflict, i.e., a fight, is often the answer.

It is not the only answer, to be sure, and emotional conflict is the essence of real drama, but the line where drama ends and adventure or melodrama begins is an iffy one. Since the fight has to serve the purpose of the story you have to use the same criteria as any journalistic or dramatic story. Ask yourself, ‘is this fight necessary?’ If it is then you can use the old six questions: Why, Who, How, Where, What and When?

Why?

Why is this fight the solution to this moment of the story, instead of a dialogue scene? Being clear about the purpose the fight in the story is paramount. After all, Shakespeare put the fight at the end of Hamlet for two very strong reasons. It was the dramatic climax that brought together several plot threads, and it was used as a device to reveal the true personalities of the major participants.

Who?

Who is involved in the action; the principal? A secondary character? If so, what is their stake in the confrontation (their personal why)?

How?

How did the fight come about? How does it end? And in what state are the participants when it is all over? Will there be lingering effects? And will the effects be physical or mental or both? There is also the mechanical how of a fight; that is, how to plan it out. You can’t build a house without a plan and you must do the same thing with the ‘story’ of a fight.

One thing to do in building the fight is to put in a ‘kick the dog moment’, by which I mean, give your bad guys an action that makes it clear they are not just misunderstood and don't mean well. Let them ‘kick’ the metaphorical dog in the room, hurt an innocent with no remorse.

Where?

Where does the action take place? Is it an interesting enough place, i.e. a kitchen, a garage, a spaceship port? What makes that place of particular interest? Does it add color to the story, or is it just a drab background, a diorama in front of which the action takes place?

What?

What is involved, physically in the fight? A sword fight; if so, what style? Or styles. Do they use the objects at hand or did they bring the ‘death dealers’ with them. (Jackie Chan movies are especially good at finding clever things to do with found objects in action scenes—you don’t have to be ‘clever’ funny but you should clever smart.).

When?

When is it appropriate to have a fight instead of a non-physical solution? I know I keep stressing this, but that cuts to the heart of the situation of many literature snobs who will not deal with any ‘action’ because they feel it cheapens the purpose of a story

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About Author Teel James Glenn

Teel James Glenn is a native of Brooklyn though he has traveled the world for thirty years as a Stuntman/Coordinator/Swordmaster, Jouster, Book Illustrator, Storyteller, Bodyguard and Actor. You can keep up on Teel James Glenn’s adventures at theurbanswashbuckler.com.

His books in the Altiva fantasy series are: Tales of a Warrior Priest, Death at Dragonthroat, The Daemonhold Curse, and Sister Warrior all from ePress-Online as are Knight Errant :Death and Life at the Faire , Them’s Fightin Words :A Writers Guide to Writing Fight Scenes and the forthcoming: The Vision Quest Factor and A Hex of Shadows.

The Exceptionals: #1 Measure of a Man and #2 Across the Wasteland are out from Whiskey Creek Press with #3 due next year.

He has stories published in AfterburnSF, Blazing Adventures, AnotherRealm, Event Horizon, Fantasy Tales, Mad, Black Belt, Alternative Cinema, Classic Pulp Fiction Stories, Weird Stories, Double Danger Tales, Startling Science Stories, Shots Writer’s Village and others.

Magic Rules: Part 3 -: The Art of Creating A Magical System

© 2006 by P. June Diehl (used with permission)

Instead of another article about writing the rules of magic, let’s look at how to create rules for our magical system, what things you need to consider.

General areas to think about:

• How might the source of the magic affect the rules you’re looking to create?
• How will you work limitations into rules that work?
• What are the side effects (the consequences) to the user of magic and to others?
• How will the magic of different users work with or against each other? Can the magics cancel each other out? What, if any, side effect(s) might this cause?
• Is magic achieved through training or natural ability?
• How does the culture respond to the use of magic and how does this affect the user of magic? What is the place of magic in your world?
• What are the magic users understanding of the mechanics of magical powers? Are these views different from the reality of the situation? From the view of the antagonist?
• Consider the peoples that will make up your world. The more nonhuman characters involved, the more magical interplay might be acceptable.

NUGGET:

Any rule of magic that you create must exist for a purpose. Don’t throw something in because it’s cute, or something you thought about doing. All of your magic rules must exist for a reason.

Assumptions about magic that can be found in normal (mundane) or in fantasy worlds:

· Magic might be difficult to use, achieve, or sustain.

· Magic may be dangerous, not only to those it acts upon, but upon the wielder.

· Magic is evil. On the other hand, magic is good. Maybe it is neither, but depends on the outcome achieved.

· Magic might be rare, or magic might be commonplace.

· Magic is unpredictable. How can this be in terms of trying to create a “logical magical system?” Think chaos theory. Think in terms that we don’t fully understand the physics of the forces as work in our own world. Could it be that magic is not fully understood in your fantasy world?

Which of these above assumptions might you use in your world to help you create your rule base?

Suggestions on creating rules that seem logical and work in your fantasy world:

• Be consistent. The rules can’t contradict each other. They don’t change in the middle of your story or novel.
• Consider the rules that magicians from our mundane world use. How are they different than the magical system in your fantasy world:
• Never perform a trick without first perfecting it.
• Never let your audience see you sweat
• Don’t give away your secrets.
• Keep the list of rules short and simple. You might start out with many rules, but try to combine and condense these until you have five or less rules.
• Consider writing your rules based on the five Ws: who, what, when, where, why.

NUGGET:

Treat your rules with respect. They should be taken as seriously as earthlings take the force of gravity and or Newton’s Law.

Other considerations:

· Develop a magical concept – What does you magic “look like?”

· What are the mechanics of your magical system?

· Write guidelines for the magic in your fantasy world.

· Think of magic in terms of skills – What magical “skills” will your characters have?

The magical rules must make sense in the context of your fantasy world and culture. Magic cannot exist in isolation. All things are connected.

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P. June Diehl is the author of The Magic & the Mundane: A Guide for the Writer’s Journey and working on a second book for writers. Her short stories, articles, and poetry have been published in print and online. June works as a writing teacher/mentor at Pearls of Writing and Writers Village University. She is the Editorial Director and a Senior Editor at Virtual Tales, and a Lead Editor with ePress-Online.