Now, I can stand in front of hundreds (sometimes thousands) of people and talk, but it wasn’t always like this. Before the TEDx talk, before all the conferences and events, I was just a word nerd who preferred curling up with her cat and writing about the imaginary characters in her head over interacting with real humans.

For many writers, the public side of our careers can come as a surprise. We all know we have to knuckle down and write our books. We all know we need to collaborate with editors and other publishing professionals, regardless of whether we publish traditionally or go the indie route. We might even fathom the idea of building an author platform, being on social media, or having a website.

But standing up and talking in front of people? At least for me, that part was unexpected. Oddly enough, it never bothered me to sing or play the violin in front of people. Because it was music, it didn’t feel as scary. But public speaking terrified me to my very core.

The DIY MFA book came out ten years ago (in 2016), and that same year I decided I was going to get over my stage fright once and for all. I realized that I would have to speak at signings and other events (both online and in person), so I made a deliberate and focused effort to become better at public speaking.

In case you’re an introvert like me, and you also need some help overcoming stage fright, here are a few things that worked for me.

1) Nail down the tech and logistics well in advance.

Right before getting up on stage is not the time to figure out any of the logistics. You should nail down all the logistical details like microphones and lighting well in advance. This way you can focus your attention on the speaking and not on the tech.

Over the years, I’ve learned what my preferred tech setup is. For in-person events, I like an empty stage (i.e., no lectern or table separating me from the audience), a lavalier mic (one of those clip-on mics you see on TV), and a clicker if I have slides. I like this setup because it allows me to walk across the stage and I feel more connected to the audience.

For online events, I have my desk set up and ready to go at a moment’s notice, with hard-wired internet, a cardioid mic, and my ideal lighting. The lights are placed so my face is lit, but I don’t get a reflection in my glasses.

Tip: If your computer is clunky and the camera isn’t very good, you can use an app like Camo by Reincubate to connect your phone to the computer and use its camera instead. This is what I did for years before I upgraded my computer this past fall. This is also helpful if you have a laptop, so you don’t have the computer’s camera pointing up your nose.

I also like to pre-plan my speaking ensemble. I have a set “speaking uniform” that I cycle through so I don’t have to think too hard about it. I always make sure I wear comfortable shoes for in-person events, and I avoid busy fabric patterns, especially on camera because they can cause a “flicker” effect.

2) Practice, practice, practice.

If you’ve been in the DIY MFA ecosystem for more than ten minutes, you’ve probably heard me talk about the importance of practice. This is true not only in our writing but in our speaking as well. When we practice something enough times, we build muscle memory around it—both mental muscle and physical muscle. This means when we get up in front of an audience, we don’t have to think about the microscopic details of the talk itself and can focus on being fully present in the moment.

When I’m gearing up for a speaking gig, I don’t just skim through my outline or slides. Instead, I get on my feet and pace around the room, saying the talk out loud. This is crucial because scanning through slides or reviewing a list of talking points is too passive and distant. I need to engage with my talk actively, so the words get ingrained in my mind. I don’t struggle to memorize the words because the very act of walking and talking through the script several times automatically crystallizes it in my memory.

I also experiment with and practice any physical gestures. I try out various permutations and drill those snippets over and over until the words and movements feel natural. The gestures also help me remember the words because the cadence of the sentences pairs with specific movements. 

3) “Keep ten stories in your back pocket.”

I learned this from my friend and speaking coach Alexia Veron. When I first started working on my public speaking, she suggested keeping ten stories in my back pocket. This way, I didn’t have to write a different talk for every speaking engagement. Instead, I could use the same framework of a talk and swap out stories to fit. This technique allows me to customize talks to specific audiences without having to overhaul them entirely. I simply choose the stories and examples that are the best fit.

As writers, storytelling can come easily for us, but public speaking can be more of a challenge. If we think of a talk simply as a series of stories and “aha” moments put together, it can feel a lot less daunting.

Over the years, I’ve put together a series of “signature stories” that I can weave into a talk at the drop of a hat. These stories also align with questions I often get asked in interviews, so I can use them in that context as well. Think about stories that answer questions like:

• How did you first know you wanted to be a writer?
• How do you get your ideas (in general)?
• How did you get your idea for this particular story?
• What is one challenge you’ve had to overcome as a writer?

4) Repeat without being repetitive.

Listening is different from reading, and most people need to hear the same concept stated more than once in order for it to sink in fully. At the same time, you don’t want to sound like a broken record, saying the same thing in the exact same way over and over. This is why you want to find ways to repeat without being repetitive.

When I put together a talk, I use what I call the Why What How formula. I begin by talking about why a particular topic is important or relevant. An introductory story can help frame that “Why” and illustrate it. Next, I dive into the topic and explain it in depth. This is the “What” part of the talk. Finally, I show how to apply that topic, usually using a story or two to bring that process to life. If you watch any talk I give—a conference session, webinar, or interview—you’ll immediately see the Why What How formula in action. In fact, I’ve even used that format when preparing interview questions for DIY MFA summits or the podcast.

The reason this format works so well is because you’re essentially saying the same thing three times. First, you introduce the idea when you explain the “Why.” Then you dive deeper with the “What.” Finally, you show the application of it with the “How.” You’re repeating the same concept but in different ways, so it doesn’t feel repetitive.

Now It’s Your Turn:

You can adjust these techniques to fit your needs. Depending on your writing goals, you may not need—or even want—to give a TEDx talk or speak at major conferences. Even so, as a writer, you will still need to engage with your readers, be it in person or online, and it’s good to be prepared.

For example, at a book signing, you may be asked to read a passage from your book. Many of the above techniques still apply. You’ll want to know what the tech setup is at the location, and you’ll want to practice reading the passage several times before you get there, so you can nail the inflection and the pacing. Bring a copy of your book, or a printout of the passage. I like to print the passage in 16pt font so I can read it easily, and I try to limit it to three pages. This way, I can spread them side-by-side on the lectern and don’t have to flip through a bunch of paper while I read. This also ensures that I keep the reading short and sweet.

Another scenario you might encounter is if you get interviewed for a podcast or vlog. In this case, you’ll want to make sure you have the tech and logistics nailed down. You’ll also want to have those stories in your back pocket at the ready. I like to be consistent in my storytelling. This means for each story, I have a particular way of telling it. I use the same inflections and follow the same cadence. This way, the stories always stay true to my brand, and I don’t have to stress about remembering the details.

So, there you have it, some techniques I’ve used to make public speaking easier (and less terrifying). I’m thrilled to be participating in several online summits over the summer and fall; in fact, you’ll find one of them listed in the announcements below. If you watch any of those events, you’ll see these very techniques in action. After all, while public speaking has become less scary for me, these techniques are tried and true, and I still use them to this very day.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: How I Got Over My Fear of Public Speaking appeared first on DIY MFA.

I’ve written about supporting characters in the past, in particular why they are such an essential part of a story. Today, I want to talk about the different types of supporting characters, and how they can contribute to the overall story arc. In the past, I’ve listed at least five distinct types. But it turns out there are far more than that, and they fall into three distinct tiers:

• First Tier: Antagonist or Opponent
• Second Tier: Allies and Advisors
• Third Tier: Adjacent Characters

Antagonist or Opponent

Perhaps the most important type of supporting character is the opponent (sometimes called the antagonist), because this character is directly connected to the central conflict of the story. The opponent often has motivations or desires that oppose those of the main character, thus creating tension and impeding the protagonist’s progress toward their goal.

Note that not all antagonists are necessarily characters in the story. In fact, while all opponents are a type of antagonist, not all antagonists are opponents. An antagonist is any person, creature, or entity that creates obstacles for the protagonist. This could be a character in the story, but it can also be some other non-human element like the storm in The Perfect Storm or the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park or the Matrix in The Matrix. An opponent forms when this antagonistic force is embodied in a character.

This distinction is important because while a non-human antagonist can certainly create problems for the main character, it’s very hard for the reader to root against an amorphous or faceless force. This is why sometimes we need a go-between character—which I call the day-to-day villain—to give that nebulous evil force a personality.

Think of Agent Smith in the Matrix saga. The Matrix itself is this big, shapeless mass of computer code, but Agent Smith gives the Matrix a face. While the Matrix is the primary antagonist in the series, this day-to-day villain makes the film’s conflict feel more personal and engaging.

In this way, there are at least three flavors of antagonist, and you can have one or more at play in any given story. First, there’s the obvious super-villain type like Lex Luthor in the Superman comics or Miranda Priestly in The Devil Wears Prada. Next, there’s the amorphous antagonist like the shark in Jaws, the tornadoes in Twister, or the examples listed above. Finally, you have the day-to-day villain who humanizes an amorphous antagonist.

Usually the amorphous antagonist and the day-to-day villain are a package deal, but sometimes you might also have a super-villain woven into the mix. An example of this is the character of  President Snow in the Hunger Games series. He starts as more of a looming presence in the first book, with Cato and the career tributes as the primary villains for that part of the story arc. It’s only in book two, when President Snow develops a personal vendetta against Katniss, that he becomes a true super-villain. At that point, the career tributes from book 1 are long dead, and while we do have some new day-to-day villains in the Quarter Quell, they really only become a threat once Katniss is in the arena and Snow has temporarily faded back to the background.

Allies and Advisors

The second tier of supporting characters includes allies and advisors. These characters may not be quite as central to the story’s conflict as the antagonist, but they still play an important role. At this tier, the supporting cast can contribute to the protagonist’s journey in any number of ways. Allies can help the main character along by bringing to the table skills and abilities the protagonist might lack. Advisors, on the other hand, can provide guidance for the protagonist.

The thing that makes second-tier supporting characters interesting is when their motivations somehow contradict those of the main character. If all the characters in the story are rowing in the same direction and pursuing the same goal, things can get boring. But if the protagonist wants one thing and their best friend wants the exact opposite, now we have tension.

Not only that, tension between the main character and an ally is even more complex and interesting than that between the protagonist and antagonist. After all, the protagonist and antagonist are usually on opposite sides, so it’s expected that they fight against each other. But if the main character has to betray their closest friend or their love interest in order to get what they want, that’s a much more interesting situation.

Advisor characters can also create obstacles for the protagonist, though in a slightly different way. The wizened mentor has become a cliché, but you can give that character trope a fresh spin by making their motivations conflict with those of the main character. Because mentor characters are often authority figures, they usually have more power than the protagonist, and the protagonist will (often) listen to them. This means if the mentor holds back information or purposefully gives the main character bad advice, it can come across as a serious betrayal, adding a layer of complexity to that relationship.

Adjacent Characters

The third tier includes supporting characters that are relatively minor and play small, specific roles in the story. Some of these might appear as walk-on parts, like a server in a restaurant, or as members of a crowd. With walk-on characters, the challenge is not to let them steal the spotlight. Less is more, and not every bit part needs a description or even a name. There’s a reason the nameless red shirt character in any Star Trek show is always the one who dies on the mission.

With crowd scenes, sometimes you can simplify things by treating the whole crowd as a unit. In fact, you can use this technique with any number of supporting characters (major or minor) by grouping them together. Think of the younger sisters in Pride and Prejudice. Until Lydia elopes with Mr. Wickham, we often see two or even three of them behave as a single unit. This technique allows the author to keep the story streamlined, even though there are five Bennet sisters, sometimes all in play in the same scene.

Other characters might be almost ghost-like in that they don’t ever appear on the page, but their presence is felt throughout the story, like the role of Anakin Skywalker in Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope. From the minute we first meet Luke Skywalker, we find out how important his father’s legacy is to him. It’s the reason why he wants to become a pilot, and when he discovers of his father being a Jedi, it motivates him to learn the ways of the Force as well. At this point in the Star Wars saga, we don’t yet know Darth Vader and Anakin are one and the same, so Anakin’s presence is more of a shadow than a concrete character.

Develop Your Supporting Cast

The questions I most often get asked about supporting characters are:

1. Can the same character represent more than one type?
2. Can you have multiple characters of the same type?

The answer to both of these questions is yes.

You can certainly have the same character play different roles within the story. Think of Darth Vader in the Star Wars trilogy. His Anakin Skywalker persona starts out as a shadow, then eventually morphs into the opponent when we get the big reveal at the end of The Empire Strikes Back and realize Vader is Anakin. You could even consider Darth Vader as a day-to-day villain with the Emperor as more of the amorphous antagonist (at least until he takes on a more concrete role in Return of the Jedi). In this way, Darth Vader fills multiple supporting character roles throughout the original trilogy.

And, of course, you can also have multiple characters contributing to the story arc in the same role, only with slight variations. Think of MJ and Ned, Peter Parker’s closest friends in the latest Spider-Man reboot. MJ starts out as the snarky sort-of friend who eventually becomes the love interest. Ned, on the other hand, is Peter’s best friend, “the guy in the chair,” feeding Spidey intel as he goes on some of his early missions. Until MJ shifts into the love interest, both she and Ned are filling the BFF role, but they do it in different ways. While Ned is always the supportive friend (both before and after he learns Peter’s secret), MJ is different. She challenges Peter and is at times suspicious of him, until she learns his true identity.

The purpose of analyzing your supporting characters is not to paint you into a corner. The more you understand your supporting cast, the more you can make adjustments to create the effects you want in your story. Remember: while your supporting cast can have backstories and fully fleshed-out personalities, their primary purpose is to contribute to the main character’s development. So, take some time to examine your supporting characters, and figure out what role they play in your protagonist’s journey.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: Three Types of Supporting Characters appeared first on DIY MFA.

There was an ebb and flow to our membership: new folks joined, and others dropped out as life circumstances changed. Overall, we had a core group of about five of us who stayed together throughout those seven years. We called ourselves “Quill and Coffee”, and this group played a huge part in my development as a writer.

What is a critique group?

A critique group (sometimes called “alpha readers”) is a group of fellow writers who read and workshop your book as you are writing it. You send them a selection of your writing, and they give you feedback on what’s working and what isn’t. They can see your book evolve from a fledgling idea to a completed project.

As you read their books, you learn to spot issues in your own writing and become better at editing yourself. Often it’s easier to identify problems in someone else’s work, where you don’t have as much at stake, and the feedback doesn’t feel so raw. By learning to give insightful feedback to others, you become a better judge of your own work.

Because critique partners or groups see your work as it develops, they have a sense of continuity with your project. They’ve seen different iterations of it and can tell you if the changes you make are actually working. Beta readers (who read your book front-to-back after it’s done) see a snapshot in time. They get the full picture because they’re reading the entire thing, but they don’t see the evolution that got you where you are. Critique groups are along for the ride the whole way, so they can give you feedback not just on your writing, but on how you are growing and changing as a writer.

How does a critique group work?

Critique groups can meet in many contexts and can take different forms. When Quill and Coffee was still going, we would meet in person at a coffee shop, but these days, with tools like video conferencing, you can form a group with people from around the globe and meet virtually.

The frequency of the meetings varies from group to group, but we found that for us, every other week was often enough to keep us accountable and productive, but not so frequent that we got overwhelmed. Not everyone submitted work for every meeting. Our group was small enough that each person could have a turn at critique at least every other session (so about once per month), which for us was just the right frequency.

In terms of the critiques themselves, we did not adhere to the “box” or “bubble” method, where the person being critiqued was not allowed to talk. Rather, the discussions were open conversations, with the author being able to participate and ask questions throughout their critique.

How do you start a critique group?

One of the best ways to start a group is by taking a class or participating in some sort of event or program (like a conference, online summit, or other situation where you might meet fellow writers). I’m personally partial to meeting writers through a class or workshop, because then you get a chance to see some people’s writing and also get a sense for how they give feedback. This way, you can decide whether they might be a good fit for you or not.

Once you’ve got a couple of people together, you need to decide on logistics and ground rules. Here are some questions to consider:

• How often will you meet and where? You want to find the right balance between frequent enough to stay accountable but not so often that you can’t make any progress in between sessions.
• Does the group have a particular genre or category focus? Our members wrote across various genres or categories, and we liked it that way. Some folks, though, might prefer collaborating with writers who play in the same literary sandbox.
• How many people will you have on deck for critique each session and what’s the deadline for submissions? We usually had 2-3 people each session, and submissions were sent a week prior to the session so folks had time to read and prepare.
• What format should work be submitted in? Also, how many pages or words should people submit at a time? We emailed each other Word documents of approximately 10-20 pages, which we then printed and handed back to the author with our written comments.
• How will you conduct the critiques? Will you use a “box” or “bubble” method, or something else? What role will the author have in the discussion?
• How will you add new members? Is it invite-only? Does a current member have to vouch for a prospective new member? That’s how we did it in Quill and Coffee.

The key with setting ground rules is that it be done early in the group’s existence. If you have parameters set, then as new members join, they simply follow what the current members are doing, and things tend to run smoothly. If you don’t establish those logistics early on, it can lead to misunderstandings and maybe even potential conflict. 

What happens when it’s time to say goodbye?

As our careers grow and change, it’s natural for the group to evolve as well. Sometimes, if members are developing at a similar pace, the group can adapt accordingly. For example, if several members are getting published and launching books around the same time, the group might switch focus from critique to supporting each other in the publishing journey.

On the other hand, sometimes people’s lives change—some folks move away, change jobs, start families, etc.—and individuals step away, or the group naturally comes to a close. That’s what happened with Quill and Coffee. I had my son in 2012, but was able to juggle the mom-preneur life with my critique group for a while. When my daughter came along two years later, things got a bit more complicated, and I had to step away. Around that same time, other members moved away and were no longer within commutable distance. Still others had changes in careers and could not make the usual meetings. And a few of our members sadly passed away.

Nothing lasts forever, but the impact this amazing group of writers made on me and my work has had a ripple effect, and I still see the effects of it to this day. They were part of my life at a time when my writing was fragile and new. They helped to nurture and support my creativity while I was just starting to find my footing. Some of my best writing memories are of times I spent with members of Quill and Coffee. 

This group also saw me through the traditional MFA program and in many ways had a deeper effect on my writing than formal education ever could. In fact, it was because of this group that I realized a lot of the MFA experience could be recreated outside the traditional classroom. I knew it was possible, because I had done that with my own critique group. In the end, you could say Quill and Coffee was part of what made DIY MFA possible, and for that I will be forever grateful.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: How a Critique Group Can Make You a Stronger Writer appeared first on DIY MFA.

Mistake #1: Treating your world like an empty vessel.

Your story’s world is not just a world for its own sake, it exists for the characters who live in it. While it can be tempting to get caught up in world-building and figure out all the intricate details of how your world is put together, if there are no characters in that world, then what’s the point? What good is a story world if there is no one in it?

I am a firm believer in character-centric world-building and crafting your world around a character rather than simply dropping them into a premade setting. I recognize that for some genres, doing preliminary world-building can be important for the writer to wrap their head around the story and understand the basic gist of how everything works. But, too much world-building before you start to write can be counterproductive. After all, you might spend so much time developing your world that you never get around to telling the story.

The other problem with treating your world like an empty vessel is that the world itself is shaped by the characters in it. If you don’t spend time exploring the world through your storytelling, you won’t see your characters’ impact on the story world.

SOLUTION: Experience your story world through your character. Drop a character into your world and let them explore. View the world through their perspective and see how they react to different aspects of it. Show us the world by having your character interact with it or run into obstacles along the way.

Remember, your character’s state of mind will shape how they perceive that world. If your character is feeling optimistic and happy, they will have a very different view of their surroundings than if they are feeling grief or fear. Show that story world by using the character as a lens.

Mistake #2: Thinking of your world as just a setting.

If the character is at the center of your story world, then the world is automatically more than just a nice setting. Most writers assume that world-building is all about the character’s surroundings or the overall structure of society. What they forget is that character interactions and relationships are just as important. Just as the protagonist’s internal state will influence how they perceive the world around them, so too will their relationships with other characters.

Supporting characters are a crucial part of your world-building. Notice the use of the word “supporting” rather than “side” or “secondary.” This is because I believe that supporting characters play an essential role in the story: to support the protagonist’s development. They may not see themselves as supporting characters, but for the purpose of the current story, their role is to support or impact the main character’s journey.

These supporting characters can have different effects on the protagonist’s arc. They can be allies, helping the main character reach their goal. They can appear as advisors, giving the protagonist information or warnings. They can even be adversaries or antagonists, creating obstacles along the way. The key is that these supporting characters are not just nifty little add-ons to the story. They serve a distinct purpose in the main character’s journey.

SOLUTION: Think about your supporting cast and ask yourself what purpose each character plays in the story. If a character doesn’t have a purpose, you need to ask yourself whether that character is even necessary. Or, if two characters are filling the same role, you might want to combine them or treat them as a unit (think of the younger sisters Mary, Kitty and Lydia in the first two acts of Pride and Prejudice). Similarly, sometimes you may want to use a supporting character as a stand-in for another, if the protagonist goes on a journey and a particular supporting character can’t go with them (think of Rue being a stand-in for Prim in The Hunger Games).

Think strategically about the role each supporting character plays and consider how each one helps bring your story world to life. Depending on the role that character plays in your protagonist’s arc, they will influence the way your world comes to life on the page. Don’t limit yourself by looking at your story world as just a setting. Think about how your supporting characters also contribute to that world.

Mistake #3: Assuming your world won’t change over time.

Your story world is not static but dynamic. As with our own real world, things will change over time. Not only will your character’s impressions of the world change as they grow and develop, but the world itself may undergo political, environmental, or logistical changes.

Think for example of the story world in the Hunger Games trilogy. Not only do we get different surroundings with each of the different Arenas, but the whole landscape of the world changes as the story evolves. At the beginning of the series, the nation of Panem has twelve districts plus the Capitol. We are told there was a District Thirteen, but it has been destroyed in the uprising that predates the Games. As the trilogy develops, we learn that District Thirteen has not been destroyed but has, in fact, hidden underground for seventy-five years. We also see District Twelve completely annihilated and turned to rubble. The whole world of the story is turned upside down as the trilogy evolves.

SOLUTION: If you find your world is feeling too static, try this exercise. Think of your story world and fast forward 100 years. What will that world be like in the future? Do some freewriting to capture your ideas, then rewind your story world back to 100 years before your story takes place. Again, do some freewriting to get your thoughts on the page.

Put what you wrote away for a few days, then come back to it and reread it. Mine it, looking for details you might be able to incorporate into your current story. If your story world is a certain way 100 years into the future, what detail could you weave into your story now to hint at that evolution? If your story world was a particular way 100 years in the past, how can you give clues about that history? Challenge yourself to make your story world more fluid and dynamic, rather than locked in time.

Mistake #4: Overloading the reader with your world.

One of the biggest world-building mistakes new writers make is the dreaded info dump. We write paragraphs upon paragraphs of exposition explaining the ins and outs of our story world instead of showing the character navigating that world.

It makes sense why we might do this: We worry that if we don’t give readers all the details about the story world right away, they won’t understand what’s going on. For this reason, it might be tempting to do a lot of world-building up front so that readers have the information they need in order to follow the events of the story.

The problem with this approach is that it can slow the story down and might even be (dare I say it?) boring. World-building without purpose can feel like nothing more than set dressing and it can pull the reader out of the story, which is the opposite of what you want. Ultimately, the goal of world-building is to immerse your reader in your story world, not pull them out of it.

SOLUTION: The way to solve the info dump problem is to keep your reader on a need-to-know basis. In other words, only give the reader information about the world that they need to know, when they need to know it. Whenever possible, try to bring your story world to life by showing the characters living in it, rather than relying heavily on exposition. When you show your characters interacting with the world, it feels more immersive to the reader.

Mistake #5: Going down the research rabbit hole.

Depending on what type of world you’re building, you may have to do research. The temptation here is to go down the research rabbit hole and learn everything you can about that world. The problem with this approach is that every minute you spend researching is a minute spent not writing.

I recently attended a conference where the keynote speaker shared his approach to world-building and research. He said he only researched details necessary to tell the story, rather than trying to learn everything about a particular subject. He said the only exception was if the topic was something he had a genuine interest in and would have researched for his own edification. Otherwise, he focused his research only on the information he needed to move the story forward. I thought this was an excellent insight.

SOLUTION: If you find yourself going down a research rabbit hole, use the TK trick. In book editing and journalism, TK stands for “to come.” What’s convenient about these two letters is that they very rarely appear next to each other in the English language. This means, if you write TK in your manuscript to mark a spot where you need more information, you can later do a quick search and find all the places where you need to fill in the gaps with some research. (You can also do the same thing by using brackets like: [Insert description of the house here.])

As you’re writing, if you find you need to research something, try to use TK and keep writing forward. This way you don’t derail your writing momentum by pausing in the middle of a thought to look something up. Later in the writing process, go back and look for all the TK spots. They will serve as a checklist of all the things you need to research so you don’t waste your time hunting for details that lead you nowhere.

There you have it, five world-building mistakes writers often make (and what to do about them). Remember that your story is layered with character, plot, and world all closely intertwined. Don’t think of your story world as just a backdrop for the action of your book. Rather, consider how that world interacts with the characters and the plot to make it fully three-dimensional.

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: Five World-Building Mistakes (and how to avoid them!) appeared first on DIY MFA.

Spoiler Alert! This film was released in 2011, meaning that it’s been around for a while. In fact, a lot has happened in the MCU since the Captain first came on the scene. Obviously, it’s impossible to talk about a movie’s structure without giving away the ending, and this example is no different. There will be spoilers.

Okay, let’s dive into our analysis of Captain America: The First Avenger.

PROLOGUE: The story begins with a prologue of sorts. Scientists discover a wreckage buried in ice and call in the military. As they explore the inside of the strange vehicle, they come across Captain America’s shield.

Next, we flash back to 1942 Norway, where an old man is hiding in an ancient stone church protecting something. Uniformed officers from Hydra burst in with a tank, knocking down a wall. They are looking for the mysterious thing the old man is protecting (the Tesseract). Johann Schmidt, the head of Hydra, finds the Tesseract hidden behind a secret panel in the wall, and takes it. The old man warns him that he cannot control the Tesseract’s power, but Schmidt kills him.

ACT 1: In New York, Steve Rogers is rejected from enlisting because of his small stature and many health problems. He wants to be recruited and serve in the war like his father did. (His dad served and died in World War I.) He is so desperate to be recruited that he has tried multiple times and has even lied on his recruitment forms.

Rogers and his best friend Bucky go to the World Exposition of Tomorrow the night before Bucky leaves for Europe. Bucky tries to set Rogers up with a girl so they can double-date but Rogers isn’t interested. He’s holding out for the right girl. He wanders away from the group and goes to another recruitment office. At the recruitment office, Dr. Abraham Erskine of the Strategic Scientific Reserve allows Rogers to enlist in a special program.

FIVE PROMISES: The five promises of act 1 get answered early in the story.

Character: Steve Rogers is our protagonist. He is physically small and weak, but he desperately wants to fight in the War.

Voice: As with most movies, there isn’t a voice per se but a mood. In this case, even while some parts of the film can be dark, the mood is largely optimistic. 

World: The bulk of the story takes place in 1942-1943, during World War II. While the story is set in the past, a lot of the Hydra technology feels futuristic.

Problem: Rogers wants to fit in the war, but he keeps getting rejected because of his health and small stature.

Event: The day before his best friend leaves for the War, Rogers finally gets recruited for a special, secret program.

ACT 1 (Cont’d): Meanwhile, in the mountains, Dr. Zola and Schmidt try to harness the power of the Tesseract. They are able to stabilize it and realize they can use it to power Hydra technology, changing the course of the war.

Back in the US, Rogers is in training and meets Agent Peggy Carter and Colonel Phillips. Rogers fails most of the physical challenges of training, but shows intelligence and strength of character. Eventually, Col. Phillips is convinced that he should be the one selected for the procedure to become a super soldier.

The night before Rogers is going to have his procedure, Dr. Erskine visits him in the barracks. Rogers asks why he was chosen and Dr. Erskine says: “Because a strong man, who has known power all his life, will lose respect for that power. But a weak man knows the value of strength and knows compassion.” Erskine also tells Rogers about Schmidt, the first man to take the serum, and how that serum amplified his evil qualities.

The next day, Rogers is taken to a secret lab where Dr. Erskine and tech genius Howard Stark have rigged a machine to give him serum and turn him into a super soldier. At first it seems Rogers can’t tolerate the procedure and they almost shut it down, but then he protests so they continue. When the machine opens, Rogers has transformed from a scrawny, weak guy into a superhero.

RULE OF 3:  Rogers gets tested three times before he receives the serum, and all three times he shows strength of character despite his weak body. The first test is when he meets Dr. Erskine, who asks him if he wants to kill Nazis. Rogers replies that he doesn’t want to kill anyone, but he hates a bully. This answer shows Rogers’ principles and his motivation to protect others.

The second test occurs when he is in training. He and the other recruits are running past a flagpole and the drill sergeant challenges them to climb it and get the flag. All the other men try and fail. Rogers then loosens a pin at the base of the pole and it falls down, allowing him to get the flag easily. This moment demonstrates Rogers’ intelligence and his ability to see past the obvious answers.

The last test happens when Rogers and the other recruits are at back the camp doing calisthenics. Col. Phillips takes a grenade, pulls the pin and throws it at the men. Everyone ducks and hides except for Rogers, who throws himself on top of it. This action proves that Rogers will do anything—even sacrifice himself—to protect others. This is the moment that convinces Col. Phillips that Rogers is the best candidate to receive the serum.

PIVOT POINT 1:  Just after Rogers has his transformation, a man posing as a government official sets off a bomb and shoots Dr. Erskine. He grabs the one remaining vial of serum and runs. Dr. Erskine dies, and Rogers goes after the man. The external event at this pivot point is the bomb going off. The internal choice is Rogers’ decision to pursue the man.

A chase through the streets of New York ensues, and they end up at the docks. The man tries to escape via a Hydra submarine, but Rogers swims after and catches him. When Rogers throws the man up on the docks, that last vial of serum breaks and the man swallows a poison pill. He dies saying “Hail Hydra.”

ACT 2:  Meanwhile, back at the mountains, some of Schmidt’s superiors come to his secret base and criticize his work. It turns out that Schmidt has been planning a mutiny all along, and he kills them all.

After the chase with the Hydra operative, the US government assigns Rogers to help raise money for the war effort. Dressed as Captain America, he performs to packed theaters and also on screen. The show involves a lot of dancing girls and the Captain punching a guy dressed as Hitler. The civilians find his show entertaining.

Eventually, Rogers ends up performing to boost morale at an army camp a few miles from the front in Italy (1943). The soldiers are not interested in his show and throw tomatoes at him. Agent Carter stops by the camp and tells him after the show: “You were meant for more than this.” She tells him that these men have seen it worse than most in the war and that the majority of their unit has been killed or captured. Rogers learns that this is the same unit his best friend Bucky joined. He thinks Bucky may have been captured.

Col. Phillips refuses to plan a rescue mission, so Rogers decides to do it himself. With the help of Agent Carter and Howard Stark, he parachutes into enemy territory and takes on the whole Hydra base on his own. He releases the prisoners being held captive, but Bucky is not among them. As the rest of the men fight their way out, Rogers looks for Bucky. Dr. Zola and Schmidt are in the facility and they set off a self-destruct sequence. Just after Rogers finds Bucky, they run into Dr. Zola and Schmidt. Rogers and Schmidt fight briefly and then Schmidt pulls off his mask, revealing that he is Red Skull. Dr. Zola and Schmidt get away but Rogers and Bucky are cornered. Bucky is able to cross to safety via a wobbly beam, but the beam collapses and Rogers has to use his super soldier strength to jump.

Back at the camp, Col. Phillips and Agent Carter believe Rogers has been killed in action. At that moment, Rogers leads the freed prisoners into the camp, and everybody cheers for Captain America.

MIDPOINT: The rescue mission involves two temporary triumphs with the moment of self-reflection sandwiched in between. The first temporary triumph is when Rogers frees the prisoners and then finds Bucky. It feels like a triumph because it seems that Rogers has succeeded at his mission.

The self-reflection is implied during the scene where Rogers confronts Schmidt (who has now fully stepped into his Red Skull persona). The latter says: “You are afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind. Unlike you, I embrace it proudly, without fear.” The implication is that, because of their extraordinary abilities, he and Rogers are superior beings and the future of humankind.

Like with most movies, we do not have a true moment of introspection because we can only know what Rogers is thinking based on his dialogue, actions, and body language. That said, Red Skull’s words suggest that he is what Rogers could turn into if he allows his power to corrupt him.

The second temporary triumph is when Rogers arrives back at the camp, leading the prisoners. He offers to turn himself in for disciplinary action, showing his continued humility, but Col. Phillips lets him off the hook.

ACT 2 (Cont’d): While rescuing the prisoners, Rogers caught a glimpse of a map showing the various Hydra weapon factories. Co. Phillips puts Rogers in charge of destroying all the Hydra factories. Rogers assembles a team including several of the prisoners he rescued and his friend Bucky. Howard Stark gives his shield an upgrade.

With his team, Rogers starts taking down each of the Hydra facilities one by one. As Agent Carter and Col. Phillips watch video footage of their attacks, we see that Rogers carries a compass with a photo of Agent Carter tucked inside.

Rogers and his team plan to sabotage a Hydra train because they have intel that Dr. Zola is on it. It turns out to be a trap, and it seems like Rogers and his team are outmatched. Bucky falls from the train and into the ravine below. The team eventually takes the train and captures Dr. Zola.

PIVOT POINT 2: Rogers tries to drown his sorrows, but because of his superhuman abilities, he can’t get drunk. He blames himself for Bucky’s death, and Agent Carter tries to convince him that it’s not his fault. Rogers says he’s going after Schmidt and won’t stop until all of Hydra is dead or captured. The external event for this pivot point is Bucky’s death, and the internal choice is Rogers’ decision to go after Schmidt.

ACT 3: Schmidt’s secret base is in the Alps. He plans to cross the Atlantic in a giant, futuristic plane, using his Tesseract-powered weapons to attack the United States. Rogers and his team make a plan to storm the Hydra base. 

CRISIS: Rogers rides into the base alone on his motorcycle and for a minute it looks like he might be able to take on all the Hydra troops himself, but he is eventually outnumbered and is taken prisoner to Schmidt. While Rogers confronts Schmidt, the rest of his team storms in, which had been the plan all along.

Schmidt runs off, and Rogers goes after him while his team takes the base. Grabbing the Tesseract, Schmidt boards his spaceship-like plane and sets a course for New York. Rogers runs after the plane but can’t catch up until Col. Phillips and Agent Carter pull up in Schmidt’s fancy car. They drive Rogers right up to the plane, and before he leaps aboard, Agent Carter kisses him. The plane takes off with Rogers, Schmidt, and a few Hydra troops aboard. Rogers fights some of the Hydra troops and destroys a few smaller attack planes, then goes to the main control room.

CLIMAX: Rogers finds Schmidt in the control room, and they fight. During the altercation, he throws his shield at the Tesseract apparatus and breaks it. Schmidt picks up the Tesseract with his bare hand, and it slowly disintegrates him. He is destroyed by his own hubris.

Ending Type: Rogers starts out wanting to stop the global bullies (Nazis and later Hydra). He ends up destroying Red Skull (Schmidt) and thwarting Hydra’s attempt to take over the world. In other words, at the end of the film, Rogers gets what he wants, and he still wants that thing, so it is a happy ending.

DENOUEMENT: After Schmidt is destroyed, Rogers gets into the pilot’s chair. He radios his team, and they want to help him bring the plane down safely, but it’s going too fast. Rogers realizes he has to bring it down before it reaches a more populated area. He tells Agent Carter what he’s going to do. She tries to convince him otherwise, but he’s determined. They say some tearful last words as he brings the plane down into the ice and the radio goes silent. As the ice breaks, the wreckage of the plane gets buried.

The Allies win the war. His team drinks to Rogers’ memory. Later, Stark is on a ship searching for Rogers and the wrecked plane. He and his team find the Tesseract at the bottom of the ocean, but there is no sign of the wreckage or Rogers.

Suddenly, Rogers wakes up in a hospital. It looks like he’s in the 1940s, but it’s all a ruse. He figures out that the hospital is fake, so he breaks out and runs into present-day Times Square in New York. Several secret agents go after him, and he’s cornered. Nick Fury steps forward and tells him the truth: that he has been asleep for almost seventy years. The movie ends, leaving room for all the rest of the Avengers series.

CONCLUSION: Captain America: The First Avenger is a great example of a story in which the protagonist shifts archetypes not once but twice. At DIY MFA, we believe there are four main character archetypes: underdog, disruptor, survivor, and protector. These archetypes come from looking at the character’s type (relatable vs. aspirational) and what they want (either to change or preserve). When we consider both parameters simultaneously, we get the following matrix:

In other words, the underdog is a relatable character who wants to change something in themselves, their circumstances, or the world, while the disruptor is an aspirational character who seeks change. The survivor is a relatable character wanting to preserve something in themselves, their circumstances, or the world, while the protector is their larger-than-life counterpart.

Rogers starts out as an underdog. He’s just a regular guy from Brooklyn who wants to do his part and serve in the War. While he is relatable, he shows hints of greatness in the tests that create the rule of three. We realize that while he is not physically strong, there is more to him than we might at first assume.

When he rescues the troops being held in the Hydra prison, Rogers goes from underdog to disruptor, shifting his character type from relatable to aspirational. He continues as a disruptor throughout the time he is taking down the Hydra factories. In fact, he stays in disruptor mode until after Bucky’s death, when he decides to get revenge on Schmidt and Hydra. At that point, he becomes a protector archetype.

Revenge is a preserve-driven desire because it stems from the feeling that something bad has happened and justice must be served. Bringing the bad guys to justice and restoring a sense of order are goals with preservation at their core. After destroying Red Skull, Rogers cements his role as a protector by sacrificing himself and crashing the plane into the ice.

As with most character shifts we see in books and movies, Rogers does not jump directly from underdog to protector, but instead makes lateral moves. This is crucial because a diagonal leap across the archetype matrix means the audience must make two cognitive shifts at the same time. By making lateral moves from underdog to disruptor followed by disruptor to protector, the character evolves more naturally.

A jump across the diagonal could potentially feel unrealistic to the audience, making the protagonist seem like they are behaving out of character. This film is a perfect example of a protagonist who shifts across the diagonal, but does so in a natural, step-by-step manner.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: Three-Act Analysis of Captain America appeared first on DIY MFA.

I’ve written about why scenes are so crucial in the past and how those four essential story elements contribute to the story’s scenes. In this Writer Fuel, I’m going to hone in on six scene-related pitfalls writers might run into.

1) No Agency

One of the most important aspects of storytelling is that the character must have agency. Your book can’t just be a series of random events buffeting the protagonist to and fro. These characters need to make choices, and those choices must influence the events of the story in some way.

This is why a key moment in every scene is where the character makes a choice. This choice does not have to be earth-shattering. Every scene doesn’t have to be like Katniss Everdeen volunteering to take her sister’s place in the Hunger Games. The choice can be small and subtle, but still needs to be present. A scene without the character making some sort of choice will feel rudderless and static, like the story isn’t going anywhere.

SOLUTION: Give your character agency by creating a situation where they need to make a decision and that choice moves the story forward.

2) Slow-to-Warm-Up Storytelling

Scenes where characters start off with pleasantries and small talk might seem realistic, but they slow down the pace of the story. Characters don’t need to talk about the weather or “how about those Knicks.” The scene needs to jump right to the things that matter to the story. This is why so many scenes (and stories overall) start in media res or “in the middle of things.”

Remember, you’re not trying to capture reality in your storytelling. Let’s face it: reality is often boring and slow. Stories are like reality but better. The reader gets a sense of verisimilitude (that the story feels real) but that doesn’t come from mimicking reality down to the letter. Instead, stories are like a heightened reality, like if reality left out all the boring parts and only consisted of the good stuff.

SOLUTION: Don’t hem and haw your way into a scene. Start at the moment where things get interesting. The reader will suspend their disbelief. 

3) Too Much Backstory

It can be tempting to load up a scene with tons of backstory. After all, we don’t want our readers to get confused, so we might be tempted to give them all the information they need to understand what’s going on. The problem with this approach is that not all of that backstory might be relevant in that exact moment, and loading too much of it into a scene can feel like an info dump. Don’t get me wrong, backstory is important, but it should be used with moderation.

There are some backstory techniques (like flashbacks, for example) that allow you to share backstory in the form of an actual scene. But even flashbacks can slow the story’s pace if they’re not well-timed. Plus, if the flashback is not executed well, it can actually be worse for your story than if you left it out altogether. The danger zones for flashback scenes are the transitions, so if you choose to use this technique, be careful in those moments where you flash back to the past and then again when you return the scene to the present.

SOLUTION: Keep your reader on a need-to-know basis. In other words, only give the reader information they need to know when they need to know it.

4) Lack of Subtext

Most people (and most characters) don’t say exactly what they are thinking. They filter their thoughts, often to preserve their relationships. Like if a friend asked you what you thought of their positively hideous hat, you’d probably try to find something nice to say about it so as not to hurt their feelings. This is called subtext, when the dialogue isn’t strictly on-the-nose and the reader must “read between the lines.”

We create subtext in our scenes by having the character’s dialogue at odds with their actions, thoughts, or body language. At DIY MFA we talk about the four main ways to show characters on the page (thoughts, actions, dialogue, and appearance, or the TADA acronym) and subtext occurs whenever two or more of these elements are in conflict with each other. Subtext is interesting because it makes the reader more engaged in the storytelling. When a character’s dialogue (or behavior, or appearance) are too literal, there’s no room for inference and the reader might lose interest.

SOLUTION: Add a little subtext by pitting two or more of the TADA elements against each other. Make the character think one thing and say something completely different. Have their actions contradict their demeanor or body language. This adds depth and interest to your scenes.

5) Endless Crescendo / Abrupt End

One of the key elements of a scene is the “crescendo” or the ramp-up to the crucial moment. Sometimes writers craft a scene that’s all crescendo and it never actually reaches that key moment. (This key moment is usually a choice on the character’s part.) This endless crescendo can make the scene feel aimless, like it’s not really going anywhere.

A counterpoint to the endless crescendo is the abrupt end, where the scene simply evaporates after the character’s moment of choice. This lack of closure can leave a reader hanging and it can make the transition to the next scene feel jarring.

SOLUTION: Give a scene direction by having the character make a choice, and deal with the consequence of that choice. This not only gives the character agency, but it gives the scene an arc and sense of direction.

6) Out Of Place Scene

Sometimes we write scenes that seem really great in the moment, but as the story evolves they become out of place. This is why it’s important in the revision process to evaluate not just the content of the scene itself, but whether that scene adds to the story.

When I work with writers, I’ll often ask them to do a scene inventory, where they list out every single scene they have written with a 1-2 sentence summary of what happens in each scene. As part of this inventory, they must also state the purpose of each scene and why it’s important to the story. If they can’t state a reason why the scene is important, that’s usually a good sign that the scene might not be necessary.

SOLUTION: Go through your scenes and for each one ask yourself: “What’s the purpose?” If you can’t think of a good reason why the scene is in your story, consider leaving it out.

ONE CAVEAT: Even if a scene doesn’t make it into your story, don’t erase it entirely. Save it somewhere, in case it becomes useful later. You may not use it in this book, but it could become a great companion story or a “DVD extra” you include as a bonus for your superfans or newsletter subscribers. Even if it doesn’t end up in the final book, it can find a new life in some other form.

There you have it, seven scene-related mistakes to avoid. As with most writing advice, my suggestion is not to take these points too prescriptively, or it may squash your creativity. Instead, write your scenes with abandon. Have fun and follow the passion. Then, when you get to the revision stage, that’s when you should be on the lookout for these mistakes and rework your scenes accordingly.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: Write Stronger Scenes by Avoiding These Pitfalls appeared first on DIY MFA.

What I realized was that this episode fit the three-act structure to a T, and this surprised me. I’ve done a three-act analysis of a TV show in the past (Murder, She Wrote) but there’s a key difference between that and The Office. Murder, She Wrote is truly episodic. Each installment is a standalone unit, with very few story threads carrying over from one episode to another. Of course, there are recurring characters and details, but if you watched a random episode of the show from the middle or end of the series, you wouldn’t need a lot of explanation to get up to speed.

The Office is different. Most of the episodes do have a main storyline that begins and ends within that twenty-two minute window, but there are also several threads that carry over across multiple episodes. Classic examples of this are the Pam-Jim romance or Jim’s evolving friendship with Dwight. These particular threads span the duration of the entire show, but there are also shorter story arcs that last only a season or a handful of episodes.

This is why it surprised me that even with these larger story arcs in play a single episode can still fit the three-act structure. Today, I’ll share my three-act analysis of “Office Olympics” with you, but first…

Spoiler Alert! This episode aired in October 2005, so I think the statute of limitations for spoilers has long since passed. But just in case, be aware that there will be spoilers. Note also that this episode is from the American version of the show.

Okay, let’s dive into our analysis of The Office (S2E3) “Office Olympics.”

COLD OPEN: The episode kicks off with a short scene before the opening credits. Sometimes these opening gags relate directly to later events in the episode, and sometimes they are completely separate. With this episode, it’s the latter.

In this cold open, regional manager Michael Scott is at the office before dawn and Ryan the temp comes in with a breakfast sandwich. He asks Michael why he needed him to come in early, and it turns out it was just because of the breakfast sandwich. Michael tells Ryan to enjoy having the office all to himself and Ryan replies that he’s going to take a nap in his car. This small interaction underscores how oblivious Michael is to the needs of his employees.

OPENING CREDITS: The credits begin with scenes of Scranton and the Dunder Mifflin building, followed by clips of the main characters at the office set to upbeat music. These clips are interspersed with b-roll footage of various office details like a copy machine, a water cooler, and a calculator. The credits emphasize that while this show might take place in a humdrum office for a paper company, shenanigans will ensue. And, of course, they do.  

ACT 1: The employees are stuck filling out expense reports—an activity that’s so boring, Jim keels over and “dies” at his desk. While Dwight is away from his desk, Pam and Jim throw things into his coffee mug. This is the first game that opens the doors to the whole idea of Office Olympics. Meanwhile, Michael needs to leave the office because he’s closing on a condo. While he’s out, the rest of the office needs to finish their expense reports.

The five promises of act 1 play out as follows:

Character: Michael Scott is the protagonist. He is an incompetent boss who thinks far too highly of himself and is clueless about the feelings or wants of his employees. While the show has several key supporting characters and later becomes more of an ensemble cast, in the early seasons, Michael is clearly the main character. 

Voice: This show is filmed in a “mockumentary” style, meaning that periodically the characters will break the fourth wall and speak directly to the camera in talking head segments. These interviews often lend context and commentary to whatever happened in the preceding scenes.

World: Dunder Mifflin is a mid-sized paper company. The show takes place mostly in the Scranton branch which includes an office and warehouse.

Problem: In this episode, the problem is that expense reports are boring and no one at the office wants to do them.

Event: Michael has to leave the office in the middle of the day, so everyone else is left to their own devices.

PIVOT POINT 1:  Dwight asks Michael whether he can go with him to the condo closing as his representative (external event). After some insistence on Dwight’s part, Michael finally agrees (internal choice). The primary storyline is Michael buying the condo. While there are several scenes that show what’s happening in the office while the boss is away, the important landmark scenes (pivot points, midpoint, climax) all revolve around Michael.

ACT 2: Jim goes to Oscar’s desk to ask a question and sees a scoreboard for a paper football game deskmates Oscar and Kevin like to play. He asks if there are any other games and finds out that Toby (the HR rep) plays a game called Dunderball in the office annex.

Note: The rest of act 2 includes scenes of Jim orchestrating various games interspersed with scenes of Michael at the condo. The scenes are woven together to create the feeling that both storylines are happening at the same time. For this analysis, some of the events from each storyline have been grouped together or rearranged slightly to avoid too many shifts back and forth. Keep in mind that both the condo and office storylines happen simultaneously with quick cuts from one thread to the other. That said, because Michael is the protagonist, the condo storyline is where all the key landmarks occur.

When Michael and Dwight arrive at the condo, Michael talks about what he envisions for his future. He wants this condo to be a home for a family. They meet the real estate broker and the head of the condo association. After Michael puts Dwight down for not understanding property ownership, we learn that Dwight owns a 60-acre beet farm.

It appears Dwight doesn’t think very highly of Michael’s condo purchase choice. When the broker asks Michael if he’s ready to sign, Dwight interrupts with various questions. When Michael shows off the bedroom with cathedral ceilings and cable readiness, Dwight warns him that the neighbors are loud and the walls are thin.

Meanwhile, back at the office, Jim tries to get his office mates to play games. Eventually, he and Pam come up with the idea for the Office Olympics. They have an opening ceremony using a scented candle as the torch and gold, silver, and blue yogurt lids as medals. Some of the members of the office want nothing to do with these shenanigans, while others are all too happy to participate.

SUPPORTING CAST: The Office is all about the supporting cast. While Michael Scott is clearly the protagonist, the humor comes from seeing the supporting characters react to his ridiculous antics. There are several supporting characters, each with their own unique quirks and personalities, but for the purposes of this analysis, here are a few key players:

Dwight: The top salesman in the office with a harsh attitude and a penchant for going overboard when enforcing the rules. He believes he’s second in command, but he has little true authority. He also frequently falls for Jim’s pranks.

Jim: A salesman who is a bit of a slacker, though he can be efficient when he wants to be. He is secretly in love with Pam and enjoys playing pranks on Dwight.

Pam: The receptionist who’s been engaged for three years. She has dreams of doing something artistic with her life. She sees Jim as a close friend and often contributes to the pranks on Dwight.

Angela: An accountant who is very conservative in her dress and opinions. She is also very judgemental and a stickler for following the rules. She does not seem to like Jim or Pam, but she is having a secret affair with Dwight.

Ryan: A temp who has not been working at Dunder Mifflin very long. We learn later that he is in business school and thinks he’s smarter than everybody else. Despite his studies, he’s a terrible salesman and knows very little about the practicalities of business.

MIDPOINT: Michael misunderstands the terms of his mortgage and begins to panic. Dwight continues to find things wrong with the condo. Michael starts to have complaints, like the condo ceilings are too low and there aren’t enough “hot people” in the housing development. He demands a price reduction or he walks. The broker says if he walks away he will lose $7,000.

ACT 2 (CONT’D): Back at the office, Jim and Pam orchestrate more games for the Office Olympics, like Flonkerton or “box of paper snowshoe racing”. Pam tells the camera that when Jim is really into something, he gets very motivated and does a great job. Unfortunately he works at this office so he rarely has reason to get that motivated. The officemates continue with their Office Olympics shenanigans, like competing to see who can hold the most M&Ms in their mouth. (Kevin wins.)

Back at the condo, Michael is sitting with Dwight on the floor of the bedroom, eating fast food. He says he’s glad he signed but it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself that he did the right thing. He tells Dwight that as a reward, he can move into the condo’s third bedroom and pay Michael rent. Right away, we can tell Dwight does not like this idea.

Back at the office, Pam asks Angela if she has a game they could play. Angela replies to say she often plays “Pam Pong” to see how many times Jim gets up from his desk to talk to Pam at reception. Pam is self-conscious about her friendship with Jim being misconstrued so she immediately backs off.

WORST: We can use the WORST acronym to better understand Michael’s motivations, not just in this episode, but across the entire series.

Want: What Michael wants more than anything else is for others to like him. On the surface, it seems like what he really wants is a romantic relationship and eventually a family, but when we look closer, we find that his deep desire to be well-liked, especially by his employees.

Obstacle: Michaels’ primary obstacle to being liked is his own personality. He is narcissistic, inappropriate, and completely oblivious to the feelings, wants, or opinions of others.

Risk: He is willing to do just about anything to be well-liked. In fact, he is so desperate to gain the good opinion of others that he often does things that make people less inclined to like him.

Stakes: He doesn’t have much of a life outside of work, so if his employees don’t like him, he will be all alone.

Transformation: In the course of this episode (and the first two or three seasons) Michael doesn’t change much. As the series evolves, we start to see him evolve from wanting the good opinion of his employees to becoming a better boss, falling in love, and eventually growing into a more confident and happy person. It takes about eight seasons (and Michael leaving the office) for this full transformation to take place.

PIVOT POINT 2: At the condo, Dwight gets on Michael’s nerves (external event) by acting like he will be a terrible tenant. They get into an argument and Michael rescinds his offer (internal choice).

ACT 3: Pam makes a surprise for the Office Olympics closing ceremony: a series of origami paper birds. On the drive back to the office, Dwight continues to bother Michael, who eventually loses his temper. Michael tells Dwight that beets are terrible and he should “grow candy” on his farm instead. Once they arrive back at Dunder Mifflin, Michael goes straight into his office. 

CRISIS: The Office Olympics disband and everyone goes back to work. Jim reveals in a talking head interview that he closed two sales at lunch and finished his expense report in five minutes, making this day as productive as any other. Ryan throws away his Office Olympic medal and Pam looks hurt. Jim comes up with one final idea and asks Pam to play along.

CLIMAX: Jim goes to Michael’s office to congratulate him on the condo and invites him out to the main office. He awards Michael a gold medal in the Office Olympics for closing on the condo. Michael is moved. Dwight gets the silver medal and Jim takes bronze.

Ending Type: This is a happy ending. Michael wants nothing else except to have his employees like him and in the end they award him the gold medal (even though he has no idea what that medal even means).

DENOUEMENT: As Michael, Dwight, and Jim stand on paper boxes that serve as a podium, the national anthem plays and Pam’s paper birds “fly” out on a string behind them. Michael asks Jim why they’re playing the national anthem and Jim says because the condo is in America. Michael then asks about the origami birds and Jim deadpans that those are the doves. The scene cuts to the closing credits.

CONCLUSION: Series like The Office can have both individual episodes and longer arcs spanning entire seasons or even the whole series. This means there are multiple layers of the three-act structure in play. There can be a three-act structure for a single episode, but there can also be a three-act structure for an overarching story thread.

Take, for example, the Jim-Pam relationship. Act 1 of their relationship shows them as friends at the office while Pam is engaged to someone else. The first pivot point is when Jim tells Pam about his feelings for her and she turns him down (external event). He then chooses to transfer to the Stamford branch of the company (internal choice).

Act 2 of their story arc begins with them apart in separate branches, but then the Stamford branch closes and Jim (along with a few of his new officemates, including his new girlfriend) move to Scranton. Pam has now ended her engagement and it’s clear she has feelings for Jim. By the end of that season, Jim breaks up with his girlfriend and he and Pam go on a real date. The rest of act 2 is the story of their romance. They get engaged, buy a house, find out they’re having a baby, get married (the midpoint), and then start their family. 

The second pivot point occurs fairly late in the series, when Jim begins to feel unhappy with his career and finds out one of his college friends has founded a startup (external event) based on an idea Jim had in college. Even though he and Pam conclude it would not make sense for him to join this startup, he decides to do so anyway without telling Pam (internal choice). What follows is a series of events that put strain on their relationship. Jim has to spend time in Philadelphia and their marriage begins to break down.

Eventually Jim chooses to come back to Dunder Mifflin fulltime to preserve his marriage, but Pam worries that he may resent her because she’s the reason he left the startup. Jim gets the documentary crew to put together a compilation of clips that shows how he feels about her and he gives her a card he had written for her all the way back in act 1 but didn’t have the guts to give her at that time (climax). Eventually, in the series finale, Pam decides to put their house secretly on the market so Jim can take his job back at the startup and their family can move to Austin—where the startup is now located—and start a new life together (denouement).

We see this framework often in book series as well, where each book has an individual arc and then there are longer series arcs across multiple books. Sometimes the landmarks for the individual episodes  (or books) might coincide with a series arc landmark. Sometimes the arcs are completely separate. The key is to recognize that there are multiple layers to the story and to consider how the three-act structure applies at each layer. A show like The Office is a great study in how this type of story arc layering can work.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

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Like playing an instrument, writing requires practice. Sure, we can experiment and try things on the fly. We can repeat things by rote and hope something works. But if we really want to get good at our craft, we have to practice and we have to go about it in the right way.

There are four different components of practice—warm-ups, technique, repertoire, and performance—and all are essential for the practice to be effective. Let’s look at each of these components individually and how they translate to writing.

Warm-Ups

In music, these are the warm-up exercises you do to make your fingers limber and get them moving with elasticity. In sports, these are the stretches and routines you do to wake up your muscles so you don’t get cramps in the middle of the big game. Warm-ups are an essential part of a practice session because they get your body ready to engage fully.

In writing, we also need to warm up. Just as we need to get our bodies ready for music or sports, writing requires preparation of the mind. This might mean taking a few moments to think about the passage you plan to write that day or doing something to get your mind ready for creative work. For some, this type of preparation might be a sort of pre-writing ritual, like doing a few minutes of meditation, lighting a scented candle, or turning on a special playlist.

The key with warm-ups in writing is that we don’t just dive into the work cold. We take a few moments to prepare ourselves, therefore making our writing session more productive.

Technique

In sports, we do drills. In music, we practice scales and etudes. I remember when I was a teenager, I used to argue with my violin teacher. “What’s the point of these exercises?” I’d ask. “It’s not like I’m going to get up on stage at Carnegie Hall and play an A minor scale.” My teacher would just tell me to play my Bach. Of course, I would inevitably hit a tricky passage and start to stumble. She would then smile knowingly and say “There’s that A minor scale, Gabriela.” And, of course, she was right.

Contrary to popular belief, scales and etudes are not exercises in futility and they don’t just exist to irritate musicians (though sometimes it can feel that way). These exercises serve an important purpose because they allow us to isolate difficult techniques and practice them in a safe space. Then, when those same techniques come up in a difficult piece of repertoire, we’ll already have the muscle memory in place and the music will come more naturally.

The same thing is true in sports. You’re not going to perform a drill in the middle of a competition or a game, but if you’ve practiced that skill often enough, you’ll have it ready when you need it. The idea is to practice the skill in isolation first, until it feels natural and you can perform it on demand.

Writing also requires mastering techniques, and I am a firm believer in practicing those techniques outside the context of your work-in-progress. Why? Because if you use your current project as practice, you run the risk of breaking your book. Instead, I advise writers to use the Petri Dish technique. I’ve discussed this technique in the past, but what essentially boils down to is three steps:

1. Identify the thing you need to practice.
2. Do writing prompts that help you exercise that tricky technique.
3. Apply what you learned back into your project.

You can certainly use characters or the world from your current project in those exercises, but don’t put pressure on yourself to write something that will go directly into your book. Instead, give yourself the freedom to experiment and make a mess.

While musicians and athletes work on technique during just about every practice session, in writing we can get away with doing so a little less frequently. In fact, once or twice per week should be more than sufficient. Of course, if you run into a technique that requires more focused practice, you may need to increase the frequency of your writing exercises for a period of time.

Repertoire

This is an area that many writers neglect. They are so focused on whatever project they’re writing that they don’t think about broadening their repertoire. In music (and other performing arts), repertoire is a huge part of an artist’s development.

One of the most significant aspects of my musical education was the year I spent learning jazz theory and improvisation at college. Not only did I learn more about scales and arpeggios than I had ever learned playing classical music (and I played a lot of scales in my day), but it also stretched my mind in understanding how music is put together. I started hearing music differently because jazz gave me a whole new perspective. Playing outside of my comfort zone was one of the most impactful experiences of my musical career.

The same thing is true with our writing. We can sometimes get stuck in a particular genre or style and it can be good to shake things up a bit. I know several writers who do challenges or short story contests as a way to break out of their usual genre and try something new. And if writing in a different genre is not feasible, at least try to read a book or two outside your usual selections. The idea here is to broaden the scope of your writing so you’re not stuck on a single genre or style.

Remember, there’s a lot you can learn from genres outside your own. Romance and contemporary (book club) fiction are great for understanding character development. You can study mysteries to learn about plot, thrillers to learn about pacing, and horror to learn about tension and release. And, of course, when it comes to world-building, nothing beats science fiction, fantasy, or historical fiction. When you read outside your genre, you can see different techniques in action and apply them to your own writing.

Performance

Sooner or later, we need to put our words out into the world and to many, this can be nothing short of terrifying. Publishing our work—whether it’s an ebook, a newsletter, a blog post, or a freelance article—is a scary but necessary step if we want to build a writing career. Putting our stories out in the world is the writing equivalent of getting up on stage and playing a sonata.

The key with performance is understanding what kind of feedback to consider and what to ignore. In sports you might review the video after an important game and make mental notes on what to do next time. In music or theater you might study a recording of yourself so you can improve for the next performance. But in writing, things are a little bit different. Once your work has been published, once that newsletter has been sent or the magazine is out on newsstands, it becomes very difficult (if not impossible) to change things. 

One piece of advice I got early in my career was not to read my reviews, either good or bad. I think there’s something to that advice. Unlike watching a game tape or performance video, there’s not much we can get from reading reviews that will help us with the next project. When a work is pre-published, critique can be incredibly helpful. But once that work is out in the world, feedback becomes less useful because there’s very little we can do in response.

In sports and performing arts, performance gives us a goal and something to work toward. The same is true in writing. It’s important that we engage in performance by getting our stories in the hands of our readers and allowing our work to be read. At the same time, it’s also crucial that we develop clear boundaries on how to handle feedback and protect ourselves so we don’t derail our ability to produce more work in the future.

There you have it, a rundown of the four areas of practice—warm-ups, technique, repertoire, and performance—and how they apply to writing. When it comes to implementing these different components, I recommend a routine like this:

• Every day: Warm-up by keeping your hand in the game and spending at least a few moments thinking about your work. If you’re sitting down for a writing session, take a few minutes to prepare yourself and get in the zone.
• Every week: Try to do at least one exercise to help you build your technique. You can use characters from your work-in-progress if you wish, but don’t pressure yourself to write something that will definitely go into your book.
• Every month: Do one thing that pulls you outside of your comfort zone and expands your repertoire. This could be a flash fiction contest or reading a short story in another genre.
• Every year: Publish something. Depending on how you publish, it might be more often. For instance, if your main mode of publishing is a newsletter, your cadence might be more like once a month or every other week. If you’re publishing book-length work, once a year might be more your speed.

As with everything at DIY MFA, your mileage may vary. Try out the above routine and see how it works for you. If necessary, make adjustments. As we always say at DIY MFA, there’s no such thing as a “best practice,” only what works best for you.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: The Four Components of a Writing Practice appeared first on DIY MFA.

At the time of writing this newsletter, I had just spent an evening hanging out with a writing friend who was attending a big conference for the first time. Our conversation inspired me because it occurred to me that there might be other word nerds out there attending events this summer who may not know how to navigate them.

Fear not! Even if you’re a total introvert (like me!), writing conferences can be incredibly valuable and—dare I say it?—even fun. You just have to have a plan for the before, during, and after.

Before the Conference

You did it! You signed up for a writing conference, got your travel plans figured out and booked your hotel room. Give yourself a huge pat on the back and take a sigh of relief because the biggest hurdles are behind you. That said, if you want to get the most out of your writing conference experience, it’s good to have a game-plan going in. Here are a few things you can do to prepare:

Look Over the Schedule

Most conferences will give you a schedule when you arrive, but they also often post their schedules online. This way, you can see what sessions are being offered in advance and start mapping things out before you get there.

Look at the sessions being offered. A lot of conferences will have more than one track, which means you’ll have to choose between a few different options for each time block. I recommend having both a first and second choice. This way, if you get to one session and it’s not your jam or it’s over-packed and you can’t find a seat, you can easily go to the other session. I’m obsessed with office supplies, so if I were doing this, I’d print out a copy of the schedule and use colorful highlighters to mark up my first and second choice sessions.

Research Some Speakers

Some of the speakers might be familiar names. Others might be completely new to you. Take a little time in advance to read the bios of the speakers for the sessions you’ve selected so you can get to know them a bit. Most conferences post speaker bios online. This research may also help you decide between various options if you’re torn between multiple sessions.

If speakers have an online presence, you can follow the breadcrumbs to learn more about them, beyond what’s on the conference site. If they’re on social media, you can follow them there. If they have a newsletter, it might be worth checking it out. Take a little time to familiarize yourself with the speakers, so you can get a better sense for how they teach.

Connect on Social Media

Once upon a time, Twitter was the go-to place where most pre-conference networking would happen. Conferences would have a hashtag and you could follow that hashtag and see updates about the event and connect with fellow attendees. Alas, Twitter (I refuse to call it X) has gone sideways and much of the publishing world has exited to other platforms like Threads, BlueSky, or even Facebook or Instagram.

Some conferences (I’ve mostly seen this with online events) may have Facebook groups associated with them. In those cases, the conference will usually advertise the group in its pre-conference communications. If you’re on Facebook and the conference has a group, it can be worth joining. Sometimes speakers will pop in, and it’s also a great way to meet some fellow attendees.

During the Conference

The day has come! You’ve boarded your plane, train, or automobile and you’re on your way to the event. Now the fun really starts!

What to Bring

You’ll want a notebook and pens so you can take notes (trust me on this!). Some people bring computers, but not all conference rooms have tables (sometimes it’s just rows of chairs) in which case a laptop could be cumbersome. Plus you may not easily find a power outlet if you need to recharge your computer. Tablets can be a great, portable option, especially if your tablet has a keyboard case so it can double as a laptop. Personally, I’m a paper and pen sort of gal, so I just pack a notebook and my pen case and I’m ready to go.

Also not a bad idea to bring some cough drops (in case you get an annoying tickle in your throat), some portable snacks (like protein bars or trail mix), and a small bottle of water. Some conferences may offer coffee and snacks throughout the day but that’s not always the case, so be prepared. Also keep in mind that while some conferences have time set aside for a lunch break, others might have sessions back-to-back all day, in which case you may have to miss a session in order to grab lunch.

Go to Sessions

Remember that beautiful schedule you mapped out before the conference? Now’s the time to use it. Go to the sessions you selected. Take notes and have fun! Chat with the people sitting near you and see if you can make a friend or two. If you’re sitting in on a session and it’s truly a dud, tiptoe out discreetly and go to the back-up session you selected (this is why you want to choose two sessions for each time block.)

Breakout speaker sessions are pretty straightforward to navigate. Speakers usually have slides or a handout so all you have to do is take notes. Panels are a little trickier because they can be somewhat unpredictable. You never know which direction the conversation will go. This is why I always recommend to writers attending panels: search for 3 takeaways and 1 action step. If you’re listening to the conversation, looking for key takeaways and an action step, you’re more likely to get value from that session because you’ll leave it with concrete information. (By the way, you can use this rule of thumb with individual speaker sessions as well.)

During the Q&A (either of a breakout or a panel), if you have a question, ask it! Just make sure you frame it in a way that’s productive for all the other attendees in the room. (I.e., don’t make it too specific to your own book.) If you have a more specific question, see if you can chat with the speaker(s) after the session. Some breakout speakers and panelists will hang around for a few minutes after their talk is over and that’s a good time to ask a more specific question.

Build In Some Breaks

I get it. It’s super-tempting to try to squeeze every last drop of value from an event. After all, you invested a lot of time, money, and energy to go in the first place. But make sure you pace yourself. If you burn yourself out on the first day, you could end up missing out on something later. This is why it’s so important to build in time for breaks.

Play hookey now and then, and just skip a session or two. Things to do with those breaks include: taking a nap, hanging out in the bookstore, browsing the sponsor booths, relaxing near the coffee or water station and chatting with fellow attendees. Open yourself up to serendipitous meetings with other folks at the conference. This can be a great opportunity to network and make some new friends.

Pitch Your Book or Meet an Agent

Some conferences offer pitch sessions or agent consults where you can either pitch your book or have a short sit-down with an agent. Every conference does things a little bit differently, but regardless of the event, it’s always a good idea to arrive with a strong elevator pitch for your project, in case somebody asks you what your book is about. Plus, if you’re attending a pitch session or meeting with an agent, you’ll need to have a pitch anyway. Practice your pitch at every opportunity you have so that when the chance to share it comes up, it’s ready to go.

After the Conference

You had a blast, but now the event is over. (Cue sad face emoji.) The after-conference piece is perhaps the place where most writers drop the ball. This means, if you get awesome at follow-up, you’ll immediately rise above the crowd.

Follow-Up with Your Contacts

If agents asked you for materials, send those materials as soon as possible. That said, do not send materials unless you have the full book ready in the wings. An agent might say “I loved your pages… send me the full” and it will be really embarrassing if you haven’t finished writing the whole book yet. So hold off on sending partial materials until you’ve got the manuscript ready, but get it ready as fast as possible.

If you made friends and met fellow attendees at the conference, the week or so after the event is a great time to send a quick note to say “hi” and keep that connection going. Some of these fellow-attendees could become great critique partners or accountability buddies, so don’t let those connections go cold.

Take Time to Debrief

Make yourself a nice cup of coffee or tea and give yourself a good hour or so after the conference to debrief. (The plane or train ride home is a great time to do this.) Go back through your notes and highlight any insights or key points. Remember those 3 takeaways and 1 action step you hunted for during the panels? Go over those and think about how you’ll implement what you discovered. The key is to turn all that great learning you did at the conference into practical tools and techniques you can put into practice. Knowledge is great, but it won’t help you make progress unless you take action.

There you have it, an in-depth guide on how to navigate the before, during, and after of a writing conference. If you do go to a conference or event this summer (or later this year) I hope it’s a blast and that this guide is helpful!

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: How to Get the Most Out of a Writing Conference appeared first on DIY MFA.

The IDEA Method

This signature DIY MFA technique is based on the premise that creativity is not some mystical process. It’s not about magic bullet ideas that you simply pull out of a hat. Rather, creativity is like a muscle that you must exercise and strengthen through repeated practice.

The IDEA Method also posits that idea generation is only a tiny part of the creative process. It’s not enough to have a great idea, you have to know how to put it into action. Idea generation is fruitless without implementation.

There are four stages in the IDEA Method: Inspiration, Development, Evaluation, and Action. As you can see, these four stages spell out the word I-D-E-A. (You know we love our acronyms at DIY MFA!)

Inspiration

This stage is what most people imagine when they think of the creative process. This is the stage where you come up with fresh new ideas. The other stages are where you build out those ideas and put them into action, but the inspiration stage is where idea generation happens.

The key to inspiration, in my opinion, is play. Have you ever watched and paid attention to kids playing? They don’t ever run out of ideas. It’s like an endless font of creativity and they are constantly coming up with new possibilities. They start with those magical words “let’s pretend” and suddenly they’re reenacting all sorts of adventures and playing endless games. The key for us as adults to tap into an never-ending source of ideas is to approach creativity through play. One of my favorite ways to get inspired through play is with the Oracle. I wrote a whole article about this creativity tool here.

Development

This stage is where the rubber meets the road. If inspiration is that initial jolt of creativity, development is where we dig deep and bring that concept to life. There are three components of this stage: imitation, improvisation, and incubation (or what I call the 3i’s of idea development).

Imitation is perhaps the most overlooked part of the development stage, but often the most valuable. This is the reality that we learn and create best when we acknowledge that our ideas exist in context rather than in a vacuum. Most of what we create is going to be a partial imitation of some other work that has come before. In fact, some of the most prominent artists and creatives use imitation heavily in their work.

Consider the impressionist Edgar Degas. Best known for his drawings, paintings, and statues of ballerines, what you might not know is that he was also in the habit of copying his own drawings over and over with slight variations. I discovered this when I went to a special exhibit of his work at the National Gallery in London, where I saw rows and rows of his ballerina sketches, virtually identical to each other, almost as if he had traced and retraced his own work.

Similarly, Vincent Van Gogh painted “First Steps, After Millet” imitating the pastel drawing by Jean-François Millet almost identically, only in a different medium (oil-on-canvas) and with his signature bright colors and swirling brush strokes. Artists of all types are constantly borrowing from each other and writing is no different. Imitation can happen both with an artist imitating someone else’s work or their own.

The key with imitation is that sooner or later, the artist moves from copying other work to improvising and making it their own. And if we’ve tried imitation and improvisation and we’re still struggling for ideas, the best thing is to pause and do something else. This is where incubation comes into play.

Evaluation

Once an idea is sufficiently developed, it’s good to take a step back and evaluate it objectively. This is not about letting the inner critic derail your process. Instead, the point is to take your writing project to a point where you have a critical mass, enough of it that you can determine whether it’s working. Bring your inner critic into the process too soon and you will derail your creativity, but you also don’t want to get so far along with your project that then if you realize it’s not working, you have to go back to the drawing board.

For every writer, the evaluation process will be a little bit different. Some writers have critique partners who provide this type of feedback throughout the writing process. Other writers might get a third or half of the way through their project, then pause and give it an objective look. The goal here is for us to avoid investing hundreds of hours in a project before we realize we’ve written ourselves into a corner.

Action

Finally, after we’ve figured out if the project is working, we simply need a plan for putting those words on the page and getting to “The End.” Here is where I like to do a little writing math and reverse-engineer from the end goal to where I am now.

Suppose you’re writing a novel and you’ve written about 20,000 words already. For a typical novel, the typical word count for most genres and categories is 80,000. This means you have 60,000 words to go before the end. Suppose you want to finish this book in 4 months, that means you need to produce 15,000 per month which amounts to about 3,750 words per week. If you write five days per week, you just have to produce 750 words per writing session to reach your goal.

For some writers, 750 words per session might be easy, but for others it might be a stretch. If you’re in the latter camp, you might need to work your way up to that 750-word pace. This is where I recommend the ten percent rule. Choose a word count number that’s super-easy, so easy you could probably knock out that word count in your sleep. Suppose that easy number is 500 words. Take that number and add ten percent (so 550 words).

That extra ten percent might not seem like much, but it’s enough to make you sit up a little straighter and lean into your work a little bit more. It’s not so high as to set you up for failure, but just enough challenge to keep you engaged. Eventually that baseline-plus-ten-percent number will become easy. At that point, you simply add another ten percent (now 605 words). Keep adding ten percent as each new baseline feels easy until you reach the goal of 750-words per session.

The point of this exercise is to avoid setting pie-in-the-sky goals to motivate ourselves to work harder. The truth is, though, when we set those high goals, we’re just setting ourselves up for possible failure. By working our way up from an easy baseline to a more reasonable goal, we set ourselves up for success.

Conclusion

The creative process is so much more than just that initial bolt of inspiration. There are three other stages that are equally—if not more—important. There is so much more to the IDEA method than the concepts shared here today. If you’re interested in learning more, check out our on-demand webinar Don’t Wait for the Muse which is part of the HUB lessons archive. You can learn more about the HUB here.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

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