Your hairdresser. The mail delivery person. The landscaper, the hummingbird feeder refill person. The person who diligently washes, folds and presses your socks. 

And, for sure, writers should play around with poetry. 

I’m talking to you, non-fiction writers. I’m talking to you, business and copywriter, you life coaches blogging away about practical steps to evolve the life you want. Hey you—yes, you, that serious journalist with the Pulitzer prize for your coverage of the public health crises of gun violence in the US—I am for sure talking to you about poetry right now.

You might think poetry is only for those sensitive, mysterious literary souls who see magic in the glow of green from a leaf in the sun. 

This is erroneous. (I used that word for you, technical copywriter!) 

If you have a minute, I can assure you that poetry will make your everyday writing infused with life and light. 

Yes, even you, instruction manual writer (are there any of you out there? I am so sorry for never, ever reading them).

Poetry Redefined

Let me redefine poetry for you in a way that makes more sense:

Poetry is a literary work in which special intensity is given to the expression of feelings and ideas by the use of distinctive style and rhythm. (Lexico.com)

Writing how you feel with style and rhythm. 

Like a song. 

Like Eminem’s popular hit, Lose Yourself.

And you don’t even have to sing what you write for millions of fans. 

If you’re still with me, I can tell you are already three steps ahead of this article and are realizing how therapeutic playing around with poetry can be for all kinds of intense emotions like anxiety, depression, shame, and even grief.

So many writers shy away from poetry—and I can understand why. It’s like shining a spotlight into the deepest, darkest sides of your soul. I can see why most writers would rather pretend that kind of belly gazing is for the elite few. 

Why you should consider playing around with poetry

Playing around with poetry will improve your writing. You might say, “Says you, Angela Banagela, but how does it do that?” I see you, skeptical engineer/memoir writer, and good job rhyming my name. 

There are three main ways writing poetry improves prose and those are forcing us to focus, to be mindful, and to work within the restraints of structure.

Focus

Poetry forces you to focus on one moment. That green leaf glowing in the sun. Or on what you are feeling. 

Did you know most people can only name three emotions? Anger, sadness, and happiness. We are complex social beings with the capability of feeling many things at once. When you try to put that into words and do it with style and rhythm, something in your heart breaks open and you realize there are other feelings hidden beneath the obvious. 

Writing poetry is probably the only time I am focused enough on myself to realize how sad I am. Or how joyful. Usually, both at the same time.

About a year ago I sat down and wrote a happy poem about being outside with my toddler, how his inner wild and nature’s outer wild echoed and reflected back at each other. And in the end I realized I was also sad because I knew this time would be short. That soon enough he would be grown and gone, but I wanted to remember that small jewel of a memory. Like a photograph not just of a moment in time but of how we were that day. Joyful, sad, content, grateful.

Mindful

Poetry slows us down. Poems are such powerful, economic animals. You must choose your words thoughtfully, methodically, and mindfully. You could get lost in the effort and when you look up from your paper you realize you’re not the same scattered, stressed-out person who started it. If you haven’t tried meditating for stress relief, try writing poetry first.

Structure

Some poetry have rigid rules around rhyming, placement of syllables, and even form and theme. I’ve spoken lovingly about Haiku in the past, but that is not the only form of poetry that requires us to work within restraints. 

Going from freewriting to a Sonnet, for example, can get all the wheels working from your logical-analytical brain to your limbic system to your creative side. It’s like a workout for your brain AND heart. 

Playing around with poetry is just good for all the systems we need to be functioning well in order to be a positive, contributing member of society. And…fun. 

Practice Playing around with Poetry

I won’t leave you flailing about with that blank sheet of paper staring at you, don’t worry, I got you. Try this next time you’re stuck on an article, or you can’t get motivated:

We’re going old school here: grab a pencil and paper (I like those small spiral notebooks they sell at Walmart), then write the first few thoughts that come to mind when you hear the word “spoon.” 

Write as long as you like. 

Have fun with it. 

I bet you’d be surprised how much your mind has to say about something as innocuous as a spoon. 

When you feel like you’re done, try to make a rhyming poem out of it. Give yourself 15 minutes to write whatever rhyming scheme you want. AABB, ABC, ABC, you get the picture. 

You don’t have time to do this right now—you just read this whole article! Throw the notepad and a pen in your purse (or man bag) and next time you’re waiting and realize you forgot your book, try scribbling out a poem about a spoon, see what happens.

As usual, Neil Gaiman said it best: 

“If you dare nothing, then when the day is over, nothing is all you will have gained.” The Graveyard Book.

Tell us in the comments: How will you play around with poetry today?

Angela Yeh is an East Coast Canadian native that lives and works in the great state of Texas. Angela loves to garden, write about magic, and eat cake. If you’d like to check out her first published novel, A Phoenix Rises, a finalist in the Dante Rossetti Book Awards for Young Adult Fiction for 2021, that would be peachy. Angela lives with her family, three cranky fur babies and a gecko. You can follow her on Twitter and Instagram or her website.

The post Why All Writers Should Play around with Poetry appeared first on DIY MFA.

Telling is a passive act that only asks the reader to either remember something is important for later, or it’s needed to explain what the reader wasn’t given enough pieces to figure out. Yet nothing gets a faster eye-roll than suggesting to a group of writers that showing is vital in modern storytelling. They’re well-versed in pointing out that not everything needs to be established as though the phrase is absolute and any exception disproves it. 

Three Groups of Writers

Most writers know the importance of showing over telling and they fall into one of these three groups:

The first consists of writers who can give the reader an engaging story that sets up a climax so that when things get past the point of no return, the reader understands why the stakes matter. They don’t need any part of it explained through telling. Most professional writers come from this group. 

The second group consists mostly of professional creative writing instructors. It is extremely difficult to fuel a story’s fire with anything but the conflict the first group shows well. This group are the ones who prove they don’t need high conflict scenes to create tension for the readers. Some of them don’t even need tension except internal obstacles and this is what most of what we would consider literary fiction to be. 

The third group of writers believe show don’t tell means all telling is fine if it’s done well. They are not helped when they are taught that their intentions for the work is more important than showing the character moving through a world where their own actions stand between two possible fates. Showing the reader those actions allows the author to show that something bigger is happening when the character doesn’t have enough knowledge to see the big picture yet. 

Seeing Is Believing

The solution to any problem is seeing it first. For anyone in the third group who knows showing is a rule and rules can be broken, try the following exercise: 

Copy and paste the first three chapters or an entire story into a new document. Highlight all the dialogue, including the dialogue tags and reactions in blue. 

Turn all the description red. 

Turn all the exposition yellow. This includes when the character explains what they already know or looks up a reference. If they had to go to the library, make it yellow. If they had to resurrect the librarian, or the protagonist must ask the clerk who makes their tongue stick to the bottom of the mouth, leave it black. Exposition the character had to learn to know is fine. 

What remains unchanged should be what the character does independently of what they’ve told the reader through narration. It excludes what they saw, said, knew, or read. In a well-told story, what is in black must still take a well-read reader on an interesting journey, unless what is in color is genre-defining. Enough stories in the slush can do both parts well. Editors in any paying market don’t need to settle for less. 

My MFA instructors tried to teach me that even writing in commercial genres, it doesn’t matter if writers tell everything through exposition and dialogue. But what is told is in the past tense to be told. What is shown is experienced. Plot points told are just flagged as important. Plot points shown to the reader need to have significance attached to it from the reader’s side of the page because the character won’t know what they’re looking at until they have the hindsight to do it with. 

Can what is significant be shown if most of the story is dialogue? Yes. Are readers primed to guess everything in a conversation as possibly significant even if it doesn’t seem to be at the time? Also yes. 

A character that gets upset when shown through their actions as being calm under pressure is significant to the reader without needing to be told. They’ll read more to find out what set them off. A character that says, “I never get upset!” is probably lying. A character that says, “They never get upset,” sounds contrived. 

Show Unreliable Narrators

You just can’t trust what they say, know or see. There’s a good chance a lot of them are dead. In fiction, showing is believing, and even that can be manipulated. 

Megan Whalen Turner’s brilliant novel, The Thief, has a first-person narrator that plays fair with the reader and still manages to knock their socks off with what was really going on the whole time. It’s brilliant and mostly done through dialogue. 

A writer can ask themselves a simple question: If the story revolves around a character needing to grow to overcome their challenges we need to ask ourselves – have I shown my readers everything they need to understand why the character got where they did, even if the character never comes to that realization?

If character growth isn’t what’s driving the story, every writer still needs to ask:

How do I make what my ideal reader needs to understand to make the climax as meaningful and engaging as possible?  

Anything told to the reader must be filtered through a character’s subjective opinion of the matter. That can remove them so far from reality that even when something happens in front of them, they can still misunderstand it. Only the actions of the characters speak to the reader. 

There is no foundational structure more important than showing the reader what’s happening before all the pieces come together for the character to see it too. Writers who became famous for their skill at doing so called it “show, don’t tell.” 

A great story asks nothing of the reader but to sit back and enjoy the ride. An engaging one asks readers to pay attention. But great moments in fiction show the reader more than what is limited by the character’s current understanding. This only happens if the author has shown the reader aspects of the story that exist independent of the character’s understanding. 

When Barb Geiger isn’t ranting about the state of current MFA education, she’s writing space opera set in end-stage, galactic capitalism. You can find her on her website, or on Twitter.

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You see, our minds continually try to find patterns, manifesting dogs in clouds and faces on potatoes. Our brains want to find the order of a pattern in the chaos of our experience. This need promotes the formation of new connections. By introducing yourself, your mind, your body to new patterns, you can find inspiration anywhere and anytime.

Creativity exercises encourage these new connections. Here are some of my favorites to fire up my writing muse and get my fingers typing.

1. The Spiral Meditation

Does your day fill quickly with distractions? Mine does—lists of tasks to complete, books to read, calls to make. My being calls out for peace, and I know that if I can’t get back to center again, I won’t be productive.

In these circumstances, I perform my spiral meditation. To do this meditation, you need a pen, a blank page, and some quiet music or a soothing voice recording. Keep your journal nearby as well.

Find a quiet space, somewhere you can isolate yourself from distraction. If disturbing noises are unavoidable, put on your headphones.

Begin by hitting play on your selected song or reading.

Using your pen, start at the center of your blank page and draw a spiral. Make the lines as close together as you can without the lines touching. Do not lift your pen from the page. Continue to draw the spiral for the entire song or until your soothing voice has read to you for a few minutes. Just a few moments of this activity calms the mind and centers your soul.

Once the song or reading is over, put down the pen and close your eyes. Let your mind clear. If thoughts intrude, allow them to drift away. Refocus your mind on that nothingness. Stay in this state for as long as you want.

When you open your eyes, take a moment and write any thoughts that entered your mind during your meditation. Return to your writing work with a new focus, ready to embrace the messages from your writing muse.

2. Make a Comic Strip

Even if you don’t think you can draw, you can make a comic strip! This exercise flips your brain by making you look at your work through pictures and the briefest of words. Making a comic strip forces you to confine your work into four squares. Drawing pictures encourages you to view your work from another angle.

Give it a try by working on a scene from your story or practice on an event that happened to you in the past week. What caught your eye and your imagination? Did the Batmobile pass you on the highway? Maybe you made a joke with the cashier at the grocery store. Use that happening to inspire your cartoon.

On a blank piece of paper, draw four squares and tell your story with pictures drawn inside them. Here’s mine:

You don’t have to be Michelangelo. Have fun!

3. The Most Precious Possession

Do you need to flesh out a character? Maybe you want to create someone brand new. The Most Precious Possession uses an object to develop a character filled with quirks.

Reach into your junk drawer and select a random object. Pretend that it is the most precious possession of someone. Describe that person—give them a name, a way of dressing, a place to live. Tell the story of how that thing became their most precious possession.

If you have a character that you’re struggling with, you might already have identified their most precious possession. Conjure up the picture of the thing in your mind and follow the same formula. For instance, does your main character have a stalker? Your main character is that stalker’s most precious possession. Delve into the darkness, joy, and madness that makes it happen. You’ll discover a lot about the stalker, and probably more about your main character than you realized before.

This exercise works quite as well with your character’s bejeweled necklace or tattered old sweater.

4. Do Your Verbs

Do Your Verbs combines creativity and physicality. To play along, pick an action verb and then mime doing it. Experiment with all of the ways you could possibly do this verb. For example, let’s say you pick “Run” as your verb. Jog slowly, an out-of-shape person resolving to strengthen their bones. Leap like a gazelle across the savannah. Scurry like a mouse escaping a cat.

Use this exercise to develop your action in a scene. Pluck an action out of the scene and physically perform it. Feel the difference as you play with the variations. Bring your character to life and embody the ways the scene could go depending on how they move. Take those motions and describe them on the page.

Having the physical memory of the action in your body brings specificity to your words, drawing a visceral picture for your reader. Reading that your character disobeyed his mother is different from reading that he “defied” her or he “sneaked around” her. This exercise helps you define those subtleties.

A great resource to accompany this exercise is Actions: The Actors’ Thesaurus. Filled with action verbs, this book delivers a myriad of options.

5. Be a Creative Outlaw

Sometimes, you need to break some rules. If you are stuck in a scene, can’t dream up a new idea, or just aren’t feeling it today, try being a creative outlaw!

You know that story that you don’t think you’re talented enough to write? Write it anyway.

How about the incredibly inappropriate one? You know it—it’s not age or gender or skin appropriate, but it took your heart and won’t let go. Write the words anyway. Free it from your soul.

Pick your most indulgent, treasured, precious idea and begin. Drop your other projects. Swing into this new idea and plunder it like a swashbuckling archaeologist digging through a tomb.

Be responsible tomorrow. And maybe burn the inappropriate story.

Creativity Exercises Fire Up Your Muse

Bring new life to your work with these creativity exercises. Not all of them may work for you, but experimenting sure is fun!

Of course, these are just the tip of the iceberg. You can find more in books like The Creative Habit: Learn It and Use It for Life (Twyla Tharp invented the “Do a Verb” exercise) and The Awe-Manac. I learned a version of “Most Precious Possession” from the knitting innovator, Cat Bordhi.

You may never know when your muse will appear, but you can invite her to play. Use creativity exercises to fire up your imagination and get your fingers writing!

Bibliography:

Badonsky, Jill. The Awe-Manac. Running Press Book Publishers, 2008.

Caldarone, Marina and Lloyd-Williams, Maggie. Actions: The Actors’ Thesaurus. Drama Publishers, 2004.

Tharp, Twyla with Reiter, Mark. The Creative Habit: Learn It and Use It for Life: A Practical Guide. Simon & Schuster, 2003

LA (as in tra-la-la) Bourgeois coaches writers, makers, and other creatives to grow their creative businesses and break away from their day jobs! As a creativity & business coach, she believes that exploring your creativity invites joy into your life, embracing your creativity infuses your life with joy, and manifesting your creativity gives you a joyous purpose. Writing and knitting are her nonnegotiable mediums, and she can usually be found with a pen or knitting needles in her hands. Find her free guide, “Tricking Yourself into a Creative Habit” online at labourgeois.biz and start writing those words today. She can’t wait to read them!

The post #5onFri: Five Creativity Exercises to Fire up Your Writing Muse appeared first on DIY MFA.

If you missed our previous posts on this theme, why not read those first? Start with our case study on man and the natural world if you’d like an introduction to the theme. Or check out our recommended reading list of books about man and the natural world or our five reasons for why this theme matters. Otherwise, let’s get writing!

Make the Setting Integral to the Plot

Setting is already one of your story’s central elements. So when man and the natural world is one of the themes, the setting becomes an even bigger player in the game–so big, in fact, that it can influence the plot.

Think of stories you’ve read where the plot relies on the setting. How do the unique natural elements of the setting make the story’s events possible? In Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden, for example, Mary’s transformation from sickly and selfish to healthy and caring happens as a result of her nurturing her uncle’s abandoned garden back to life. The friendships she develops with the other residents of Misselthwaite Manor contribute to this as well. But how would the story change if Mary was sent to live in a downtown orphanage that had no garden? The theme of man and the natural world would probably disappear—and the plot of this classic children’s tale would be drastically different.

So as you determine how the setting influences the plot, consider the following six keys to connecting these two building blocks of storytelling:

1. Location: Where does the story take place? Ensure you think about the macro (country, state, town / city) and micro (neighborhoods, buildings, landmarks) elements of the location.
2. Time: When does the story take place? Consider the time period, season, and (for certain scenes) the time of day. Whether it’s daytime or nighttime can significantly impact how a scene plays out.
3. Natural Elements: What are some of the unique natural elements (e.g., topography, climate, bodies of water, weather conditions, wildlife) of this location at this time?
4. Goals: What is the character’s goal in this story? What conflict is he trying to resolve?
5. Connection: How does the character’s story goal or main conflict connect with the setting? In other words, how do the setting and its unique natural elements make the story possible?
6. Impact: How do the natural elements of the setting affect or influence the character’s ability to achieve his story goal or resolve the main conflict?

If you’re unsure of how to answer the final question, stay tuned for more insights and a related exercise in the next section.

Exercise #1

Choose a setting with natural elements that could play a big role in a story, and write down your answers to the six questions listed above. (This setting can be one you’ve written about before or one that’s brand new.) Then write a scene or short story in which the character’s story-goal pursuit or the main conflict relies on this setting and its natural elements. 

How does the natural world make the character’s struggles or the scene’s events possible? How would the scene / story change—or be rendered impossible—if it occurred in a setting with different natural elements?

Also, check out the writing exercises in our post on using setting to illustrate literary themes.

“Characterize” Nature as Your Character’s Friend or Foe

No story ever goes smoothly for the protagonist. Between the beginning and the end, she’ll run into complications and setbacks as she struggles to reach her goal or resolve the main conflict. And in stories where man and the natural world is a central theme, these complications include natural obstacles that hinder the character’s progress or threaten the safety of herself and others. In this way, nature acts as one of the story’s antagonists. It may not be a human character whose motives and actions oppose the protagonist’s, but the power it holds over the protagonist through changing weather, expected seasonal conditions, and natural disasters can just as easily throw her off course. 

It’s also important to consider how the natural world can help the protagonist. Sometimes it’s more like a friend or ally and assists the character through shelter, sources of food or water, and signals of danger. Elements like these can give the protagonist a sense of hope, relief, joy, and other positive emotions that can, among other things, rekindle their commitment to their story goal. They must also be carefully chosen based on what occurs or is available in the story’s setting.

If you need some examples on how nature can antagonist or assist your character, here are two excellent ones:

• Rae Carson’s Walk on Earth a Stranger: Leah Westfall rides in a covered wagon across the American plains and Rocky Mountains to reach the gold mines of California. Along the way, she braves whitewater rapids, a buffalo stampede, oppressive heat, and other natural elements that act as obstacles to her journey and overall safety. She also witnesses the beauty of natural landmarks and acknowledges her gratitude for off-road hiding spots and other ways that nature protects her.
• Andy Weir’s The Martian: After being left behind on the planet Mars, astronaut Mark Watney must find a way to survive until a rescue mission arrives. The planet’s harsh environment—marked by dust storms, frigid temperatures, dangerous terrain, and lack of oxygen—makes this the biggest challenge of his life. But thanks to his engineering ingenuity, Mark figures out how to grow a crop of potatoes inside his laboratory using technology, Martian soil, and (*ahem*) human waste, which stretches his food supply and increases his odds of living long enough to come home.

Exercise #2A

Create a two-column table on paper or in a word processing document. Label the columns “Antagonize” and “Assist.” Then, in each column, list the ways in which the story’s setting and its natural elements either antagonize or assist the protagonist as she works toward achieving her goal or resolving the main conflict. Don’t worry if you fill one column with more ideas than the other, but make sure you consider how the natural world can both hinder and help the protagonist in her efforts.

Exercise #2B

Return to the scene or short story you wrote for Exercise #1, and write two new scenes: one where the setting and its natural elements antagonize the protagonist, and one where they assist her. Or, if you’re up for a challenge, write a single scene where the natural world does both for the character. How does your character react to these events? How do they complicate or aid her progress? How does it all make her feel? Is it even possible for nature to be both friend and foe in your story? If so, what does the protagonist think about this duality?

Infuse Your Descriptions of Nature with the Character’s Mood

Stories about man and the natural world never skim the setting’s surface. The natural elements must be carefully considered and described appropriately. This doesn’t mean you need to write about every leaf, insect, or drop of water. Rather, focus first on the elements that the character would notice and that best serve the scene, and then phrase those descriptions based on how the character thinks, feels, or reacts at that moment.

Put yourself in your character’s shoes and imagine he’s in a natural setting. What kind of environment is he in? What time of day is it? What’s the weather like? What kinds of wildlife (flora, fauna, etc.) does the character notice? What other unique elements of that setting does he make note of? Then consider the character’s circumstances and emotions at that moment. What just happened or is currently happening in the story? What thoughts or emotions is the character experiencing as a result? How do the setting’s natural elements and current conditions exacerbate his situation and feelings? Or how do they make things more bearable for him?

Remember that the key here is to illustrate the character’s relationship with nature. This is why it’s crucial to frame the description according to his observations, circumstances, and attitude at that moment. Depending on what’s happening, the character might not pay much attention to the dry grass or the chirping of crickets, but he may be exhausted enough to notice the heat and lack of shade. Or maybe he’ll be so distracted by the beauty of the moon that he doesn’t realize how much the temperatures have dropped. By inhabiting your character fully in each scene, you’ll ensure your descriptions of nature are accurate, imaginative, and meaningful.

Exercise #3

Review the last scene you wrote for your story, and notice your character’s state of mind at the end. Then, imagine your character going outside immediately after this scene ends and into the closest natural environment. What is that environment like? How does that environment affect the character’s mood? Or how does the character’s mood influence what he notices about the natural setting? List various scenarios such as daytime versus nighttime, heat versus cold, rain versus sunshine, etc. and determine how the character’s reaction changes in each one. If the story’s next scene were to occur outdoors, which scenario would be most impactful? Why?

Use the Story’s Events to Demonstrate Humanity’s Impact on Nature

We’ve likely read stories where trees are cut down, animals are forced to leave their homes, and pollution dirties the water and air. These and other moments are meant to remind readers of the havoc humanity can wreak on the natural world and the potential consequences if no one takes action to stop it. This also creates the reverse scenario of Exercises #2A and #2B above. Instead of nature acting as an antagonist to a human character, this time the character is antagonizing nature.

When taking this approach to the theme, first consider why the destruction is happening. For example, if characters are razing a forest, what are their reasons for doing so? Do they want the land for farming or development for homes and businesses? Do they need wood and other natural resources for their use or consumption? Are they driving out inhabitants such as birds, animals, and people—or using them to further their goals?

Next, ponder the consequences of this devastation. How would the natural elements of this setting change forever if the antagonist’s plans are carried out to completion? Think about how the terrain, wildlife, climate, and other aspects of nature would be impacted. How would these changes affect the characters living and working there? (Food and water supply, weather conditions, options for shade or cover, and nature’s aesthetic qualities are just some of the things to consider here.) Maybe even the worst-case scenario has already become reality. Jay Kristoff’s Stormdancer is a harrowing example of characters living—and dying—in a country where deforestation and pollution due to industrialization have led to climate change, famine, and disease, among other problems. 

This angle on the theme doesn’t have to be all “gloom and doom,” though. In most cases, one of the characters—your protagonist, for instance—may be determined to fight back or counter the damage that’s been done. If so, then ask yourself why this character cares so much about the world she lives in. What is she willing to do to save what’s left of it? Most importantly, what steps will she take (perhaps with help) to achieve her goal? Once you’ve brainstormed this as well as the reasons for and consequences of the destruction of the natural setting, you’ll have in place the first puzzle pieces for an exciting and emotionally charged story.

Exercise #4

Brainstorm the ways in which the natural world of your story’s setting could be impacted by your characters. If it helps, create a table that lists different “man-made” scenarios, possible reasons for each one occurring, and its impacts on the environment and the characters. Where does your protagonist fit into the picture on any of these scenarios? Would she be assisting with the destruction? Or fighting to stop it? Make note of her motivations for engaging in either side, then write a scene or short story in which the character witnesses or participates in the devastation. What does she or other characters try to do to save the story’s setting?

How have you explored man and the natural world in your own stories? What other writing prompts or exercises would you recommend to nurture this theme?

Sara Letourneau is a freelance editor and writing coach who lives in Massachusetts. She’s also a poet whose work has appeared in Mass Poetry’s Poem of the Moment, The Aurorean, The Avocet, The Bookends Review, Golden Walkman Magazine, Soul-Lit, and other journals and anthologies. She can often be found performing her poems at local open mic nights, reading good books, roaming the shores of Cape Cod, and enjoying a cup of tea. Learn more about how Sara can help you with your writing at Heart of the Story Editorial & Coaching Services. You can also connect with her at her writer website, Twitter, Goodreads, or Instagram.

The post Writing Exercises for Exploring the Theme of Man and the Natural World appeared first on DIY MFA.

Today, it’s time for the “how”. The case study hints at this with five keys for exploring family in our writing. This post, however, goes even deeper. So if you’d like some new techniques or exercises to help you practice this literary theme, grab a pen (or open a new word processing document) and let’s begin!

Demonstrating Relationships through Dialogue and Interaction

When writing about family, the relationships within your focus family will be front and center. Many of your story’s scenes should show these family members—your characters, in other words—interacting in expected and unexpected ways. For example, they might bond over preparing meals, keep secrets from one another, or express jealousy over a relative’s accomplishments.

However these interactions play out, they should make sense for the characters in each relationship. They should also be influenced by the relationship’s complexities and the history between the characters. Do they openly show each other affection? Are they distant or abusive (either physically or emotionally) to one another? Who is the decision maker or authority figure, and how do they demonstrate their power? Understanding these relationships will help you accurately and effectively create them on the page, and allow the reader to experience the unique emotions or conflicts of each one.

To illustrate family relationships in a scene, keep these six elements in mind:

• Purpose: What happens during the scene? Are its events an everyday occurrence or an extraordinary circumstance? Why is it important to the plot/story?
• Subtext: What is the relationship between these characters? What attitudes do they have toward each other? What opinions and fundamental beliefs do they share or disagree on? How do these underlying factors influence their interactions?
• Dialogue: What do the characters say? How clearly do they communicate their thoughts and feelings to each other? How does this interaction evolve as the scene progresses?
• Behavior & Body Language: How do these family members behave toward one another? What body language do they use throughout the scene?
• Emotions: What emotions are revealed in each character’s dialogue, behavior, and body language? How do these emotions impact the interaction’s outcome?
• Outcome: How does this interaction end? What impact does it have on the characters’ relationship? For example, are they angry at each other? Do they come to a mutual agreement? Are both characters satisfied, or did one bend to the other’s will?

Exercise #1: Write a scene where two family members from your story discuss a responsibility or commitment (household chore, miscommunication on a school pick-up time, late bill payment, etc.) that one of the characters has neglected. How does this scene reveal their relationship’s layers? How do the outcome and the emotions expressed affect the characters and their relationship? Make sure you consider the six elements listed above as you go along.

Also, feel free to try the exercises in our post on using dialogue to demonstrate literary themes.

Cultivating Conflict through Opposition and Antagonism

Every family relationship has its challenges. Even if two siblings or a parent and child usually get along well, they’re bound to disagree on something. It could be over an everyday occurrence (a sister borrows clothes without asking, or a son is late for school) or a life-changing event (a spouse admits to infidelity, or parents disapprove of an adult daughter’s fiancé). In this way, family members can act as antagonists, either in a minor role or as the main adversary.

This is NOT to say that an antagonistic family member is a villain. Yes, a villain is a type of antagonist, but a villain typically has malicious or harmful intentions toward the protagonist and/or her goal. But what if a parent, sibling, or other family member is a good person, even if their motives or desires don’t align with the protagonist’s? Recognizing this crucial distinction and developing your characters accordingly can help you keep any conflicts within your story’s family grounded and realistic.

What does it look like when family members experience conflict despite their good intentions? Here are two examples:

• Katherine Arden’s The Bear and the Nightingale: Vasya’s family loves one another deeply, but their bond is fraught with tension. For example, Vasya is constantly scolded by her father and older siblings for her adventuresome, impulsive behavior. And when father Pyotr brings home a stepmother, most of his children aren’t excited about a new woman taking their deceased mother’s place.
• Markus Zusak’s Bridge of Clay: Life for the Dunbar brothers is anything but conflict-free after their mother passes away and their father abandons them, leaving the eldest son, Matthew, in charge. They argue about unwanted pets sleeping on their beds, engage in fistfights, and disagree about staying in school—and that’s just for starters.

Exercise #2: Make a list or table of your protagonist’s family relationships and the tension within each one. Which of the protagonist’s attitudes, opinions, or fundamental beliefs differ from those of her mother, father, significant other, etc.? How does each character act toward one another when a conflict arises? Consider each character’s unique personality, motives, and behaviors as you work on each relationship.

Reflecting and Contrasting Family Dynamics with “Mirror Families”

Stories often feature mirror characters to reflect differences in personality, circumstances, and much more. In family stories, this technique goes a step further by using entire families as mirrors to one another. Giving your protagonist a second family—maybe a friend’s family, or another group of characters that acts as a family—to observe and spend time with can give her a new perspective on the function or meaning of family and motivate her to make other changes in hopes of improving her own family situation.

Typically a mirror family and its impact on the protagonist falls into one of three categories:

• Bright: This mirror family demonstrates more love, trust, or other qualities that the protagonist finds desirable, usually because her own family lacks these qualities. It therefore shows the protagonist that positive examples of families, or more positive ways of being a family, really do exist.
• Broken: This mirror family shocks or horrifies the protagonist (who comes from a happy family or views her family as boring or unbearable) with power struggles, abusive behaviors, and other harmful dynamics. As a result, it teaches the protagonist to be thankful for her family and to change her attitude for the better.
• Distorted: This family appears to be a Bright mirror until the protagonist learns a shocking truth or secret about the family that explains the tension or awkwardness she’s witnessed within their unit. She then realizes that no family is perfect and readjusts her perception or behavior toward her own family.

Exercise #3: Create a three-column table, with headings for “Bright,” “Broken,” and “Distorted.” Then, list any fictional families who act as a mirror to the protagonist’s family in the appropriate column. If it helps, write down why you believe each family is Bright, Broken, or Distorted. How many of each type can you identify? Which categories do you have an easy or challenging time identifying?

Exercise #4: Free-write about your protagonist and her family, including any stressful circumstances that will impact this family during the story (a divorce, moving house, abuse, etc.) and the protagonist’s attitudes toward each family member and her family as a whole. Then brainstorm a second family who could act as a mirror. What kind of mirror family would work best? How does this family differ from the protagonist’s? What will she learn from them? Make sure you consider the mirror family’s purpose in the overall story, how the protagonist meets this family, and what events make it necessary for her to spend time with them.

Using Major Life Events to Heighten Conflict

Weddings, divorces, birth of a child, death of a loved one—these and other major life events can change a family forever in profound and sometimes surprising ways. Such moments are also prime opportunities for highlighting the theme in question.

The key with these milestones is that they’re high-stress events. This stress will lead to extreme emotions (joy, exhaustion, grief, etc.) that rely on the nature of the event and on each character’s attitude toward these circumstances. It can also increase any existing tension between the characters involved. So while it’s normal for a bride and her mother to argue about wedding-planning details, any ongoing conflicts between these characters (for example, if the mother has control issues, or if the daughter is careless with her finances) could exacerbate their situation.

Don’t be afraid of complicating things for your story’s family. Conflict gives a story momentum and enriches it with emotion. Plus, it’s a part of family life, no matter if the family is biological or “found.” By building conflict naturally into relationships, everyday occurrences, and major events, you’ll ensure the family you’re creating will function just as any real-life family would.

Exercise #5: Create a grid or table that outlines how each member of your story’s family would feel toward or act during different major life events and any strains this would place on the family as a whole. For example, would the older sister be jealous if her younger sister got engaged first? Which child would be more emotional over the loss of their father? Does the mother go overboard when planning parties for these milestone? Will certain characters remain clear-headed and even-keeled in these situations? Then, write a scene using one of the scenarios you’ve brainstormed, using the questions and elements from Activities #1 and #2 above.

How have you explored family in your own stories? What other writing prompts or exercises would you recommend to help nurture this theme?

Sara Letourneau is a freelance editor and writing coach based in Massachusetts. She’s currently taking clients with manuscripts in speculative fiction, literary fiction, or YA, though she’s open to other genres as well. She’s also a poet whose work has appeared in Amethyst Review, Canary, Muddy River Poetry Review, Soul-Lit, and elsewhere. A Massachusetts resident, she can often be found performing her poems at local open mic nights, reading good books, and enjoying a cup of tea. Learn more about how Sara can help you with your writing at Heart of the Story Editorial & Coaching Services. You can also connect with her at her writer website, Twitter, Goodreads, or Instagram.

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Unfortunately, cost, distance, or other practicalities (like the lack of space travel or a time machine) may prevent us from experiencing the world our characters inhabit.

That shouldn’t get us off the hook. If we are not able to plunge ourselves into our character’s actual world, we can use a little ingenuity to involve our senses in experiences that help us understand how they might interact with their fictional environments.

The five creative exercises below are designed to help you explore your characters’ world without travelling far from home. The goal is to help you connect to your characters through multiple senses, and to experience objects, sensations, or atmospheres your characters would find normal.

1) Go shopping

Visit local shops and search for specialty items your characters would buy or own. If you cannot find the exact items, look for something similar. Spend time touching them. Notice their heft, feel their textures, pay attention to their distinct scents or sounds. For large objects, try out the floor models or ask for a demonstration. If the store is devoted to a specific type of item your characters are familiar with (winery, feed store, farmers’ market, scuba shop, etc.) spend time absorbing the atmosphere of the store itself. Notice the ambiance, the smells, how the staff and customers interact.

Extra credit: Buy something your character would own and keep it near your desk for inspiration.

2) Take a field trip

Go to a place or event where your character would feel at home. It might be an art museum, a farm, a car show, or a political rally. Absorb the setting details with all five senses, but don’t stop there. Pay attention to the kinds of people who are present, how they act, what emotions they display, and how they interact with the key elements of the setting. If your novel is set in a distant time or place, look for a museum or reenactment group that features the appropriate era or culture. Be sure to absorb as much emotion as possible from historic photos and other details. The goal is find an atmosphere similar to one your characters face, not to recreate their exact setting.

3) Become a chef

Cook a meal your characters would enjoy eating. Choose everyday foods rather than the fancy fare reserved for special occasions. Don’t stress if you can’t find every unusual ingredient, and don’t worry over how authentic your results are. This is a creative exercise, not the Food Network. Do your best with whatever ingredients and recipes you can find. As you eat, pay attention to the unusual flavors and textures. Choose some overall descriptors for what you are eating. Is the food heavy? Smooth? Complex? If you hate cooking, look for a restaurant or other venue (such as a historical group’s exhibition or an ethnic festival) that offers the appropriate kind of food.

4) Do the moves

Does your character have physical skills you know nothing about, such as martial arts, basket weaving, or salsa dancing? Find a few beginner how-to videos on the internet and do your best to follow along. Pay attention to the kinds of skills that are important, such as balance, rhythm, strength or flexibility. Notice which muscles are used the most, and which aspects seem the most challenging. Imagine the amount of practice it would take to become a skilled practitioner. Once you’ve absorbed the basics, watch some advanced videos to see what an expert looks like.

Extra credit: Enroll in a class and become at least mildly proficient in the skill while hobnobbing with other aficionados.

5) Develop voices

If your fictional world is too speculative or remote to simulate with the ideas above, bring the characters into your world instead. Pretend you are an audiobook narrator and practice on selections of your story until you have developed a distinct voice for each character. Allow those voices to help you as you fine-tune your manuscript.

Who said research had to be boring? Close the dusty tomes, turn off the internet and go out to experience your characters’ world. I’ll bet your favorite non-writers will have fun helping you with these (non) writing exercises. Happy exploring!

Lisa E. Betz believes that everyone has a story to tell the world. She loves to encourage fellow writers to be intentional about their craft and courageous in sharing their words with others. Lisa shares her words through dramas, humor articles, historical mysteries, her blog about intentional living and Twitter@LisaEBetz. Lisa also encouraging writers at Almost an Author, where she currently serves as Assistant Managing Editor.

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My current work in progress has a large cast of characters aside from my protagonist. Each one has a unique personality, and important parts to play in my novel’s world. This is probably why I ran into trouble.

During a round of revision some of my characters started acting out. They were saying things they shouldn’t say, and doing things that didn’t make sense with the rest of the story. I got so frustrated that at one point I started shouting at my laptop telling them that if they didn’t start behaving I was going to delete them permanently. That’ll get you some odd looks if you do it in public.

Finally, I realized that if I wanted to get my novel back on track I was going to have to meet my characters all over again. When you find you’ve lost that magical ability to jump inside your characters’ heads, like I did, try some of these field tested strategies to get back in sync with them.

1) Creat a Character Sketch

Even if you’re the worst artist ever (a title you’ll have to fight me for) it doesn’t hurt to draw what your character looks like. They may come out looking like a humanoid figure a two year old made out of silly putty (mine did anyway), but if you draw her you’ll have a tangible representation of your character, making it easier to describe her on the page. Then you can return to the comfort zone of writing. On your sketch, write an outline of sorts about only your character: her physical description, why she looks the way she does, personality traits, why she is this way. Write every relationship she’s ever had.  Let your writer brain take over and create enough of a new person that this character could have her own novel. You’ll be surprised what you learn.

2) Talk it Out

You know the advice about reading aloud your novel to catch things that need work? Well the same holds true when a character starts confusing you. When you write a character, you’re already having a dialogue with yourself. Having the same dialogue out loud can help get you and your character back on track. Use that wonderful imagination of yours and pop your difficult character out of your head for a chat. Ask him questions, and then answer them. Perhaps he has a different role in the story than you realized at first, or maybe he needs to be pushed to the background a little more. And if anyone should overhear your conversation and ask you what you’re doing with a worried expression, simply respond:

“I’m just talking with Anthony about how a supporting character is supposed to work.” Then return to your conversation.

3) Put Your Character in a Weird Situation

Sometimes the only way to figure things out is take your character out of her story, plop her into a situation that would never occur in your novel and see how she reacts. For this, I suggest using a writing prompt, such as the one my writing group used that helped me work out my character’s motivations. Simply start a story with, “And the horse came back alone.” Set a timer for fifteen minutes and take your persnickety character, write up a weird situation, and see what happens. You’ll get a fresh perspective on your character and, armed with new knowledge, your characters will once again be making sense in your novel.

4) Take a Day in the Life

This takes talking it out to a whole new level. Sometimes to get inside the head of a character, you need to actually be that character. So take a day, or half of one, and pretend that you are your character. To the best of your ability, act as them, answer questions as them, and respond to things in the same manner they would. Even if you’re writing a fantasy or science-fiction story (as I am) you can still act as your character. Remember the imagination that helped you make that world in the first place? Use it again, but this time instead of creating a world on paper, create it in your surroundings. If you have a writing group, you can even do this as an event where everyone comes as their character. It’s great fun and helpful too.

5) Explain Your Character to Someone Else

Find a willing person to allow you to give him or her a lecture on a pesky character that only exists in your mind. Getting another writer to do this is usually easier, but you can probably get a family member or close friend to sit through a fake biography too. Explain everything you know about your character, and what he is doing now that doesn’t make sense to you. Then let your listener ask any questions they may have about your character. If you find you’re unable to answer a question you may have found why your character has become difficult. Having someone who is not engrossed in your novel can give some much needed perspective. He or she may see the problem clear as day where you would have trudged along for months trying to work it out.

Characters are fun to create and play with, but sometimes they take deep introspective work to understand. Characters are who your reader connects with and, more often than not, why they continue to come back to your work again and again. Take the time to meet and re-meet your characters, and soon you’ll be jumping inside their heads so easily writing them will be as natural as speaking.

Marielle Orff is a freelance writer, audio editor, and podcast producer from Phoenixville, Pennsylvania. She is the producer for DIY MFA Radio, as well as the Web Mistress for DIY MFA. In her free time she creates stories of science-fiction and fantasy for young adults while drinking mountains of coffee. To connect with Marielle check out her website at marielleorff.com.

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Group members would show up to meetings with flash fiction pieces between 100 and 300 words, depending on the word count given the week before. Our group was small, with only about seven members, so we all had the opportunity to read our stories and get feedback from everyone in the room. It was always interesting to see how many different interpretations of a single prompt were present in the room, week after week. It challenged us to think differently, try new approaches, and even compete for the most unexpected prompt use.

Introducing flash fiction to your writing group is easy, and should be a breeze to sell. It has so many great benefits for the writer, and works perfectly for a group that has a limited meeting time. When you work solely with longer works, members end up with too much at-home work to do, or meetings become focused on one member, and everyone has to wait a long time for it to be their turn. Writing flash fiction gives everyone something to work on, and leaves room for everyone to give and receive feedback from several group members.

If you’re not already doing something similar, here’s a few tips to help sell writing flash fiction to your writing group:

1. It will encourage less active members to participate in group activities as they will always have their own piece to share.
2. It allows everyone to benefit from constructive critique rather than putting the focus on dozens of pages by a few people.
3. The exercises will keep all group members writing between meetings.
4. There is something to look forward to at every meeting. People will have favorites, and everyone will almost see the readings as an entertainment segment.
5. Flash fiction can help group members test out story ideas without having to outline or draft longer pieces that could require a significant amount of work to get up to par.
6. It doesn’t take a long time to write a flash fiction piece for a group meeting and critique
7. It could become a friendly competition, complete with small prizes on a weekly, monthly, quarterly, or annual basis.
8. The groups’ works of flash fiction could later become a collection you can publish together.

When your writing group agrees to add this to the agenda – and they will – be ready to take the lead. Prepare by finding great prompts. Subscribe to word-of-the-day lists, save those great quotes your Facebook friends share, and look for interesting photographs on the internet. Even song lyrics and snippets of overheard conversation can be great story-starters. Remember that prompts don’t have to be used in any particular way unless it is stipulated. There can be thousands of interpretations of one photograph. To make it more interesting, if you are using a quote, you can make it mandatory for all flash fiction pieces to begin or end with it. In most cases, you’ll probably want to leave it open.

Flash fiction has innumerable uses, and what better space to take advantage of them than in your writing group? It’s great practice in self-editing, minimalist writing, quick scene setting and characterization, and making the most of every word. As we’ve mentioned before, it’s great for getting ideas on paper and testing out new techniques. There are a million reasons to give it a try, and zero reasons not to go for it. Talk to the other members of your writing group, and watch the excitement build at the prospect of writing a new piece of every week, sharing it, and getting feedback. It’s like winning three times. Who could turn down an offer like that?’

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Alicia Audrey is a writer, editor, blogger and social and political commentator living and working in Nassau, Bahamas. She enjoys writing flash fiction, and is currently working on a women’s fiction novel entitled The Whispering Willow. She prides herself on keeping the local post office open by sending far too many penpal letters and packages to friends and strangers alike on a weekly basis. Her favourite things include journals, tea, cupcakes, sarcasm, challenges, and autumn. She tweets her musings to everyone, but no one in particular, as @_AliciaAudrey.

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That’s the purpose of Developing Themes In Your Stories, a four-part series on consciously nurturing themes in your writing. We’ll look at how themes rise naturally out of different story elements, and give you activities to help you discover your story’s themes as early as the planning stages. That way, you’ll know your themes upfront instead of digging for them later.

We’ll kick off this series with the character arc, one of storytelling’s most inspiring elements.

Start With Your Protagonist

Remember how our working definition of theme ties the protagonist’s internal journey to the external plot? Goals, worries, lessons – writers use these and other details to demonstrate a character’s arc and, therefore, theme. To create that kind of connection in your own work, you need to start with the character.

Before diving into your story, figure out everything you should know about your protagonist. Not just appearance, personality and skills, but also vulnerabilities. What are her fears and flaws? Is she hiding any secrets? Most importantly, how does she see herself and the world? (I’ll explain in the next section why your character’s perceptions are crucial in your search for themes.)

Also consider your protagonist’s past. What was her childhood like? What were some of her happiest, lowest, and most embarrassing moments? Did she experience trauma with her health, family, friendships, etc.?

This prep work might seem tedious, or maybe you’ll find it fun. Regardless, it’s an essential first step in writing a compelling story with powerful themes.

Activity #1: Free-write for 30 minutes about your protagonist. Explore angles of his or her past (childhood, traumatic experiences), present (positive attributes, flaws, perceptions), and future (goals, desires). If you need a starting point, check out these suggestions from Writer’s Digest and Writer Unboxed as well as this character traits and flaws online thesaurus at Writers Helping Writers.

Probe for False Beliefs

Here’s why it’s important to know your protagonist’s vulnerabilities, especially her perceptions: Most characters carry “false beliefs,” or untruths that the character has been conditioned to believe are true about herself or the world. As Angela Ackerman explains here, false beliefs often rise out of traumatic experiences or emotional wounds. They can then taint a character’s worldview and cause her to change her behavior so she can avoid being hurt in the same way again.

This applies to real people as well as fictional characters. We all suffer from false beliefs, or have suffered from them in the past. We might think we’re unlovable, deserving of our pain, or that people can’t be trusted; and we hold onto those lies for years, even decades.

Despite our warped perceptions, other people usually don’t see us the way we see ourselves. Likewise, you probably won’t share your protagonist’s false beliefs about herself or the world. In fact, you might have already known that her warped perceptions are untrue. Keep that in mind for this next activity, and as this article continues.

Activity #2: Create a four-column table on a new page or document, and label the first column as “False Belief(s).” Using the free-writing exercise from Activity #1, write down at least one false belief your character has about herself or the world. You’ll recognize a false belief when you know instinctively that your protagonist is wrong.

Determine Your Character’s Arc and Possible Themes

Now that you know your protagonist’s false beliefs, here’s your challenge as the writer: What if you had a chance to proveyour protagonist wrong and make her change how she thinks about herself? This act of letting go of a false belief is your character’s arc and the source of your story’s themes.

Think about what happens when we let go of untruths or doubts. We’re often changed for the better. Before that can happen, something must cause us to question our false belief. That’s where the journey to letting go of that belief begins.

So, from a thematic standpoint, the character arc should reverse a character’s false belief. If Protagonist A considers herself a poor leader (false belief), she should learn that she actually does have what it takes to lead (reversal / arc). Or, if Protagonist B thinks avenging her friend’s death will bring her peace (false belief), she should instead realize the consequences of her decision (reversal / arc).

And what about theme? Since themes can be lessons learned by the protagonist, we can say that character arc themes are lessons that the character learns when letting go of false beliefs. For example, when Protagonist A realizes she’s a good leader, she discovers more about who she is (identity) and possibly power or courage. When Protagonist B changes her mind about vengeance, she might learn about compassion and choices. All of these concepts are possible themes in each story.

Activity #3: In your four-column table, label the second column as “Reversal / Character Arc” and the third one as “Themes / Lessons Learned.” Then, for each false belief, write down its reversal and any possible themes in their respective columns. If you struggle with themes, ask yourself what you might learn if you experienced the same situation.

Build Your Plot Around a Trigger

I mentioned in the previous section that a significant event often forces us (or our character) to question our false beliefs. This is the “trigger” for your character arc. It occurs early in the story, and can be out of your character’s control (e.g., political / outside circumstances, another character’s decision or actions) or voluntary (e.g., your character’s decision or action). Regardless, the trigger is the catalyst for the journey your character will take where she’ll learn to let go of her false belief.

Let’s imagine possible triggers for Protagonists A and B. If Protagonist A’s false belief is a lack of leadership qualities, maybe she could be assigned to oversee a mission abroad or an espionage operation. If Protagonist B’s false belief is that avenging her friend’s death will bring her peace, maybe she could be forced to work with her friend’s killer. Wouldn’t either arc make an awesome story?

Once you determine the trigger, you can start building the plot. What obstacles or outside forces will your protagonist face? Which supporting characters will help her reach her goal or clash with her? What settings, objects, and other elements will play important roles? Remember that the key is to show your character’s growth from beginning to end. And once you’re ready to start writing, you might be surprised with how well everything knits together – and relieved to know your themes.

How about one last example that shows character arc themes through the steps we’ve discussed? Let’s use Tris Prior from the Divergent Trilogy:

• False Belief: When Divergent begins, Tris views herself as weak.
• Trigger: Tris takes her faction aptitude test and, upon learning she’s a Divergent and isn’t a perfect fit for any faction, chooses to switch from Abnegation to Dauntless.
• Plot / Character Arc: Tris’s initiation into Dauntless tests her physical and emotional strength in numerous ways, yet she passes thanks to her gutsy determination.
• Reversal / Themes: Tris proves to her new faction – and to herself – that she’s stronger than she had realized, which gives her a new sense of identity and personal power.

Activity #4: Label the last column in your table as “Possible Triggers.” Then, using your results from Activities #2 and #3, brainstorm possible triggers that can jump-start your character’s arc. From there, decide which thread of false beliefs, reversals, themes, and triggers you want to explore. Now you’re ready to write!

Character arcs aren’t the only method for developing themes in your work. Come back in June for Part 2 of this series, when we’ll discuss themes that rise out of your story’s premise.

What are some topics you’d like to see featured at Theme: A Story’s Soul? Share your thoughts by commenting below or tweeting me at @SaraL_Writer with the hashtag #AStorysSoul.

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Sara Letourneau is a Massachusetts-based writer who practices joy and versatility in her work. In addition to writing a fantasy novel, she reviews tea at A Bibliophile’s Reverie and is a guest contributor for Grub Street Daily. She’s also a published poet whose works have appeared in The Curry Arts Journal, Soul-Lit, The Eunoia Review, Underground Voices, and two anthologies. Learn more about Sara at her personal blog, Facebook, and Twitter.

The post Developing Themes In Your Stories: Part 1 – The Character Arc appeared first on DIY MFA.

So how do we make this work? We love writing, and we have stories to tell, but it’s a race against a clock that doesn’t stop for us. The answer, really, is to seize every small window of opportunity, wherever and however it may come. This may seem impossible when you’re working on a mammoth of a novel, but what if you broke down into smaller projects? Here’s a guide to using 15 to 30 minute flash fiction writing exercises to build the foundation for your novel.

Write a Summary

Find a creative way to write summary of your novel. It doesn’t have to be a boring outline, or a blow-by-blow of all the things that will happen in a tell-all way. You could craft your summary as a letter to your best friend. You could even write the letter to one character from another. The summary could also be a dialogue experiment, or written from the perspective of an inanimate object. Go the way the muse leads you, but be sure to include everything. This summary will be your guiding light, and can be both helpful and as entertaining as you’re willing to make it.

Write a Mini-version

Imagine your completed novel is magically minimized to a tiny book that fits in the palm of your hand. You and your flash fiction skills are the magic that needs to make that happen. Write a miniature version of your novel. This will take more than one 15-minute session, so don’t panic. Expect to spend about an hour writing your tiny novel. This pared down version of your novel will come in handy as you write the whopper.

Explore Characters

Short writing sessions are the best for getting to know your characters. The best of characters are known to pop in for short stints before taking off and being about their business. A 15-minute sessions may be just the right amount of time to sit down and interview your characters, whether they are quiet, smart, quirky, or annoying. Write a conversation between you and a character, or between two or more characters, or let them tell you a story. Find out as much as you can about what each character wants, needs, loves, despises, fears, and hopes to see.

Describe Scenes

You’ve probably put a great deal of thought into what would happen in your novel. What is less likely is that you thought deeply about the places where these things would happen. Where will she get the phone call? Which church will be chosen for the wedding? What does the shopping mall look like? Does the gym have an indoor pool? Take yourself on a mental tour of the setting for your novel. Let the walls speak to you. Meet the people who laid the bricks for the structures. Bring history and character to every location, even if it won’t all make explicitly make it into your novel. If you’re writing a young adult novel where most of the action takes place at school, you may want to write a short story from the janitor’s perspective. Maybe the girls’ locker room has a few secrets to tell. Leave no rock unturned, and no building undiscovered.

Develop Backstory

Many writers have difficulty controlling the backstory. We spend so much time developing our stories and digging into our characters’ past that it becomes difficult to separate it from the story. Writing the backstory in short segments over a period of time can safeguard against the dreaded info dump. Using flash fiction to write the backstory can help to get it out of your system, increase your knowledge of the story, and keep the unnecessary details out of the pages of your book.

Develop Character Voice

The true mark of a strongly written character is in the speech. If you never say the name of a character, your readers should be able to tell who is speaking at any given time in the novel. Spend some time focusing on each character, paying special attention to their word choice, tone, and overall style of speech. Flash fiction writing in short spurts gives you a great opportunity to experiment, practice, and refine.

Test scenes and chapters

Once you’re happy with the foundation you’ve laid for your story, it’s time to take it for a test drive. Although you know what happens, some things may be up in the air with regard to the way you deliver the story. Use your short writing sessions to play with the setup. You may have expected to have Character A narrate the first chapter, but find that Character B has a much more engaging way of recounting the same events. You may even find that some scenes, when written, don’t quite fit where you thought they might. In the early stages, it works to your advantage to take your scenes out for a test drive.

There are lots of things you can do to make great use of the tiny pockets of time that become available to you throughout the day. Whether it’s the 15 minutes you have while waiting for the bus or the 20-minute wait for dinner to finish in the oven, every single minute of writing time is valuable. It can be overwhelming to think about writing a novel using only 15 minutes per day, but that process can be broken down in many ways to fit any schedule. Try out these exercises over the coming week and see how they work for you. I’m sure you’ll find yourself writing more, and with greater clarity of the story you are destined to write.

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Alicia Audrey is a writer, editor, blogger and social and political commentator living and working in Nassau, Bahamas. She enjoys writing flash fiction, and is currently working on a women’s fiction novel entitled The Whispering Willow. She prides herself on keeping the local post office open by sending far too many penpal letters and packages to friends and strangers alike on a weekly basis. Her favourite things include journals, tea, cupcakes, sarcasm, challenges, and autumn. She tweets her musings to everyone, but no one in particular, as @_AliciaAudrey.

The post Seven Flash Fiction Exercises for Novel Writing appeared first on DIY MFA.