Developing Character Descriptions
Published April 29, 2011 | 
“Who am I?” This is one of the most important questions your character poses to you when s/he prepares to enter your story for the first time, whether on page 17 or as the first word on page 1. Regardless of where your main character (MC) shows up, you need to have a good idea how to answer the questions defining him for both you and the reader.
One of the best things you can do is develop a character sheet for each character and keep it as a reference point. These questions can be the same for every character and you’d answer them as if conducting an interview. What is/are your: physical specifications (eye/hair/skin color, hair length, age, height, weight, gender, general build); likes; dislikes; favorite foods; job, current/previous; allergies; preferences in lovers; car; house/apartment layout; hometown; age; accent/s (pronounced or subtle). You can use these and any other questions you come up with. Sometimes, though, answering them can be tricky because you have to be clear and very descriptive, enabling your readers to draw a clear picture of your characters.
For this post, we’ll focus on describing physical build. The following are words you might use to help describe:
Height: tall, short, pocket-sized, lanky, stretched, squat, sawed-off, Amazon, rangy, petite, towering, statuesque, giant, compact, diminutive.
Weight: heavy, obese, skinny, rail thin, thick, waif-life, more chunky than hunky, featherweight, heavyweight, undernourished, never missed a meal both at home and at the neighbors.
Build: fewer curves than a stick figure, voluptuous, lanky, lean, swimmer’s build, enough junk in the trunk to be packed for a trip ’round the world, stacked and racked, a waist made for grasping, leggy, petite, fine-boned, muscle-bound, rotund, healthy, waif-like, barely cast a shadow (skinny).
Hair: long, short, businessman chic, knotted, manky, plaited, dreads, thick, wavy, ruler straight, wild, uncontrollable, predictable, carried over from the ___’s (i.e. 70′s), pin-curled, more colors than a color wheel, bleached heavier than Aunt Ida’s whites, tall enough to need a permit, teased heavier than a … (you fill in that blank), shaved, military cut, enough hairspray to pose a fire hazard near an open flame, rat’s nest, swallow’s nest, thin, thinning, Trump-worthy comb-over, beehive so well established the workers considered her their queen.
Eyes: sparkled, squinted, flat, dull, humor-filled, red, deep-set, wide, tiny, angry, narrow, tilted, cat-like, heavily lashed, deep, tired, exhausted, lost, frantic, sketchy, shifty, lazy, wandering, blind, ringed with .., glazed, uneven. Colors: cerulean, grass green, bluer than a _____ sky, darker than pure cocoa, sooty, like pitch, as dark blue as a desert night sky, a myriad of colors, brown like rancid raw meat, a green more attractive than a crisp hundred dollar bill, glacier blue.
Nose: honker, patrician, Roman, Romanesque, something Dali would have dreamed up, regal, upturned, button, classic, straight, narrow, flared, strong, strongly profiled, hooked, Grecian, piggy, squashed, concave, convex, pug-nosed.
Lips: thin, Cupid’s bow, lush, full, bite-able, kissable, slash, harsh, perpetually grinning/frowning, stark, swollen, pouting, sensual, provocative, red, pink, lost in a sea of a beard, buried beneath his thick handlebar mustache, fanciful, sculpted, collagen-enhanced, velvet over steel.
These are just a few suggestions for words you might use when describing your characters. I didn’t touch on gait, tattoos/piercings, hands, or other defining characteristics. I only hit the things that we think of most commonly when we describe a character.
I hope you find some useful tips on this page. If you do, bookmark me and come visit again in the near future. I’m always coming up with something to discuss about writing. (The archives are full of tidbits too!)
Show vs Tell: The Many Shades of Gray
Published April 25, 2011 | 
A friend admired some of my photographs this weekend and asked why I’d printed some intensely colored photographs in black and white. “For the many shades of grey,” I answered quietly. The answer leads directly to this post and the function and role of the writer to show versus tell.
As writers, we constantly hear “show me, don’t tell me.” But what does it mean? How do we avoid telling? Is telling ever appropriate? Or is showing the only way to accurately convey the thoughts we need to get across? Telling a reader something is easy: the man crossed the street. Showing takes a little more thought and effort: He ducked between cars, anxious to reach the opposite sidewalk before the light changed and traffic began its five o’clock sprint. The first example tells me what I need to know; the second example conveys the man’s anxiousness to weave his way through the snarl of traffic. The first example couldn’t (or shouldn’t) be an opening line to a novel whereas the second line could.
Telling is traditionally flat, used as a method to only convey the information necessary to the reader without giving them tastes, textures, sounds, smells, or visual cues. In short, telling does not invoke the senses or the surroundings; showing will always invoke one or the other, and often both. So is telling a no-no in every case? Absolutely not. There are times when telling can be effective, particularly if it’s a matter of low emotion or quick information delivery.
Showing offers readers a rich opportunity to experience the story, to become engaged in a way that telling doesn’t. It engages the senses, unfolds details, shares emotion, and encourages the reader to explore the characters, world, and (often) themselves. It provokes emotion. “Great,” you mumble, “but you still haven’t answered how to do it.” Patience, grasshopper.
Showing the reader the story is harder than telling. The limited use of powerful adverbs and adjectives plus the use of strong verbs (strutted vs. walked, scribbled vs. signed messily, grumbled vs. said) help a writer paint a picture with a million shades of gray, and differentiate better between the lightest and darkest moments of the story. Additionally, emotion should be conveyed using fewer exclamation points but more active language. If you are relying on your punctuation to do the job your language should be doing, check your manuscript for passive text. Showing involves allowing the reader to uncover how they feel instead of telling them what to feel: “Jane is sad” vs. “Jane’s lips trembled but she clamped them down as unwelcome tears welled in eyes already red.” It uses dialogue to help uncover details in the story instead of just spelling it out for the reader. All of these things are useful but the best thing you can do is practice; find a strong critique partner to help you continue to develop the skills of showing vs. telling.
Next post: Writing Character Descriptions
Pantser v. Plotter
Published April 22, 2011 | 
I’ve been asked to clarify the differences between pantsers and plotters. *rubs hands together* I’m going to do my best and disclose some of my writing secrets in the process.
So what is a pantser and what’s a plotter? A pantser is very much like the fish to the left. She jumps without knowing where she’s going to land. In writing it’s the equivalent of starting a story with no outline, no notes, no character motivations, nothing.
I am a die-hard pantser. It’s true. I hate to plot. To be perfectly honest, I don’t even really know how to do it. Instead, I find myself with an idea jotted down on a piece of paper (Woman doctor meets male patient; he’s dying but they fall in love.) and I begin there. No joke. I typically will start a bookmarks header on my internet favorites file for research, but I start to write with no more than that original idea. I don’t know anything about my characters or their motivations. I know even less about the plot of the story, including how it’s going to end. In my current work-in-progress (wip) I hit the 90% complete mark before I had the vaguest of clues about how the novel would end. And since it’s not done yet, I still can’t say for sure where the story will conclude. No joke. It’s exciting to write this way but it definitely doesn’t work for most people.
A plotter is someone who develops the ideas within a story and comes up with a solid outline–a beginning, middle, black moment, and resolution that leads to the end. They will estimate the number of words in the manuscript, the number of chapters and they’ll even jot down ideas about what points the chapters will cover in order to keep the story in line with the plot. They write out biographies for their characters, define their world, and create their villain with a preciseness that boggles this panters’s mind. By the time they’ve done all the preliminary work to plotting, all that’s left is to take the outline and begin filling in each chapter, first in rough draft form then using rewrites to flesh out the material until their story is complete. It’s the equivalent of leaping out of one bowl into another. You may not necessarily know what’s in the water, but at least you know the bowl’s there.
So what’s the benefit of one versus the other? Truthfully there’s not a single advantage that I can see from where I’m sitting. One of my critique partners is a total plotter and the way I write makes her eye twitch. Watching her delve into her characters’ psyches does the same to me. We both end up with viable manuscripts at the end, so it’s a draw. I will say that she’s taught me a lot about what I need for my own process to be its most successful and I think I’ve taught her how to let go of some of the form of the story and let it evolve so that her creativity carries her forward just as much as her outline does.
I’m hoping to become a hybrid “plottser” that uses the best practices of each method to come up with the most well-rounded story I can. Either way, writing is a passionate love of mine. The hows and whys will always be secondary to the passion I feel for the act itself.
Linking Verb Panic
Published April 20, 2011 | 
I want to be very clear that this graphic is no mistake. My manuscript is, officially, kicking my ass. Yes, it’s true. My muse and I may have to go into protective custody for the grammatically idiotic. See, I’ve abused a linking verb. It’s true. I’m a Linking Verb Abuser and I have been outed. Here’s the guilty party now: to be and, more specifically, was.
It’s all I can do to type it without throwing up a little in my mouth. I’m working on editing a manuscript and everywhere I look I find that little word. It’s rather passive, a quiet little word that doesn’t arouse much suspicion until BAM! You look at your manuscript and the pages are littered with was’s everywhere you look. They’re like the reproductive rabbits of the literary world.
So how do you get rid of that vile little imp? Not every “was” needs to be destroyed. “But Denise,” you say, “you just told me how vile the little word is!” True, true. But not every instance of the word is evil.
Linking verbs have a specific function: they link a subject with an adjective. Example: The cat was hairy. “Cat” is the subject; “hairy” is the adjective; “was” is the linking verb. Here it serves a clear, very simple purpose. But this is also passive. Don’t you get a more affirmative, active statement if you say, “The cat is hairy”? Unless the cat is past tense (dead), the word “is” provides more active language.
Hint: there are instances when linking verbs become passive, allowing the writer to just add to their word quantity but not quality. This is what happened to me.
The most offensive little linking verb is “to be” or any form of “to be”: am, is, are, was, were, be, been, being, being. Often if you use one of these words, particularly the literal form “to be,” there is an opportunity for stronger, less passive language. Again, for example: “The promises I’d made to myself for a lazy morning weren’t going to be realized.” Ouch. It’s a stronger sentence if I say, “The promises I’d made to myself for a lazy morning were made in vain.” Yes, I used “were” but it is far stronger than “to be.” It shortens the sentence, tightens it up, thus making it a stronger, affirmative statement.
Using “to be” verbs won’t destroy you as an author. However, if you can learn to eliminate the majority of them, your critique partners, editor, agent, and readers will be very grateful.
am is are was were have has had do did does think seem feel remain can could should would may might must smell taste
When Edits Attack
Published April 15, 2011 | 
If I make the news this weekend it will be with the following headline:
Local Writer Found Sprawled in Road
Rogue Edits to Blame
Full Story at 6
Then there will be a snapshot of my manuscript, Legacy, with the caption, “Have you seen this suspect? If so, call your local writers’ group. DO NOT APPROACH! Suspect considered loaded with passive verbs and subordinate clauses!”
Sound dramatic? It does? Won’t you feel silly when the news story rings a bell.
There are so many things that, in the solitary venture of a writer’s life, we do without fully understanding. The first thing that happened to me was the requests for pages that came in with agents actually asking to see part or all of Legacy. I wasn’t ready. Then came the agent offer; I wasn’t ready with my questions. Next came the contract offers. I was still standing in the middle of the road, slack-jawed, with all that had happened so quickly. I truly thought that things would become more manageable once the contracts were signed. I’m talkin’ smooth sailin’ bay-bee! Uh. No.
Many people say that the most intimidating part of writing is, for them, the blank page. I’ve known writers who wouldn’t finish a chapter at night so that the next night they could start their word count on a page that already had words logged. I know of one writer who literally approaches hyperventilation at the beginning of every project because the first blank page scares her to death. I’m here to tell you that the blank page is nothing compared to facing edits.
I’ve received my manuscript back to handle for the first time since September 2010. I thought I’d dive into it and sweet-talk it a little. Stupid, stupid me. I opened it and didn’t make it through the prologue without having to make a change. The first 250 words had an error. I wanted to weep. And then it got worse and I did. I wanted to completely and totally run away and become a rodeo clown. I even looked at the cost of face paint and the potential tax deductions of a suspender barrel. But alas, my barrel would be large enough for bulls to crawl in with me (which sort of defeats the purpose).
I’m fortunate to have a wonderful editor. She’s confident that we’re going to get through edits successfully and I’m really thankful she seems to look at the manuscript and see more promise than I’m seeing right now. It would be fantastic to get all of the edits back and find that I’m a literary hypochondriac. As it is, all I can see in front of me are the glaring errors, the mistakes I feel I shouldn’t have made, the things that drive my slightly obsessive personality to strive for perfection. Ultimately, as long as I give you, the reader, a high-quality novel, I’ll be thrilled. I have every confidence in my editor that she’ll settle for nothing less.
The Power of the Alpha Male
Published April 14, 2011 | 
I’ve received several emails from readers regarding the Alpha male, one of which was very straight forward: “Will you discuss the Alpha male more?” Nothing makes me happier than comments from readers, so I’m happy to discuss the complicated role of the Alpha in a little more depth.
The Alpha is a traditional character, often the darker part of the yin/yang of a good pairing. His part doesn’t have to be a traditional, romantic pairing for the chemistry to work, but romance is often the driving force behind what we think of as the Alpha.
Alphas can be written a number of ways and no one definition or characterization is right. They are traditionally a dominant personality but they do not have to be domineering. They are pulled in a direction they do not want to go, often toward a woman or, in m/m, another male. The Alpha is portrayed as a desirable man, one who is physically appealing and a protector when push comes to shove. He does not have to be violent, but he’ll not be walked over either. He is intelligent and has a history, a past that may surprise his counterpart and, particularly, the reader. A prime example of my favorite type of Alpha male is the one of the two Alphas in The Niteclif Evolutions. He is a strong, no-bullshit, straightforward kind of man whose focus on the heroine fits this description: he didn’t want her but now has to have her; he’s conflicted with a surprising past that shapes him into the hero he is; he battles himself to stay on the side of light versus dark; he loves the heroine in a way that defies simple understanding. This, my dear reader, is what my Alpha male looks like.
This then begs the question “Is the Alpha the same in every book?” Absolutely not. I will admit my Alphas tend to be conflicted about the heroine before coming around to wanting her in a primal, caveman-ish sort of way. But they never inhibit the protagonist, typically the heroine, from being strong, independent, and intelligent. This is a fine characterizational line to walk and it’s critical that I point out that nothing ruins a good Alpha male for me more than one who is a brute, an ass, or represses the heroine in any way. I can never buy the fact, as a reader or a writer, that she would stay with him.
When crafting your Alpha male, consider making a list of the things that you find incredibly attractive in a man and the things you find abhorrent. What would you want in a hero if you needed help saving the world? What primary characteristics do you find sexually appealing? What are the top three things that turn your burner to the “off” position when it comes to men? Once you have these, draw out the yin/yang symbol. On the left is your heroine; on the right is your hero. Write in all the key traits inside his half of the circle. Negative characteristics he may not have go outside. Now do the same for your heroine. They should be compatible, complementing each other and forming a symbiotic relationship.
Defining as many aspects of your Alpha male as you can before you start to write will help you create a well-rounded character whom you know well enough to write soundly. Just remember, there are no parameters but those you set and those which you can convince your reader to accept.
Congratulation to the Winners!
Published April 13, 2011 | 
We have our winners!
Jenn won the free copy of
Tibby Armstrong’s newest release,
No Apologies
and
Darcy won the
$25 Amazon gift card!
Congratulations to both of you.
I’d like to invite everyone back for more contests and new releases.
Happy reading!
Drumroll Please…Tibby Armstrong’s NO APOLOGIES Released Today!
Published April 12, 2011 | 
I’m so incredibly pleased to have Tibby Armstrong in the house today to discuss her newest release, No Apologies, available today at Loose-Id. I’ve been fortunate enough to read some of Tibby’s work and I have to say that her ability to tell a story that rips your heart out is amazing. Even more so is her skill at putting your heart back together so you find it fuller than when you started. She’s incredibly gifted. If you’ve read her first novel, Sheet Music, you know what I’m talking about. If you haven’t? Today’s a perfect day to give these two novels a shot!
Please take a few minutes to read the interview for No Apologies and you’ll catch an exclusive sneak peak at her upcoming urban fantasy, Dead Again. Post a comment to the interview and be entered to
win either a copy of No Apologies or a $25 Amazon gift card!
Without further ado, here’s Tibby’s first interview on the male/male coming-of-age novel, No Apologies.
Denise: I’m so excited to have you here today!
Tibby: It’s really great to be here and to share No Apologies with you and all your readers!
Denise: Tell us a little bit about yourself.
Tibby: I have a degree in English Literature, am studying to be a librarian, and spend most of my time writing or fantasizing about new places to travel. I’ve lived in Vermont, New York City, Boston, and Connecticut. If I could get the English to take me, however, I’d make London my home.
Denise: What genres do you write?
Tibby: I write romance and urban fantasy, and am attracted to just about any story with a strong romantic relationship.
Denise: What was your writing process for this novel? Has it changed any?
Tibby: Some authors talk about having a process, but really, my books dictate the process to me as I write them. Whereas I plotted out my first published novel Sheet Music down to the scene, No Apologies took me by surprise. Each scene seemed to blossom to suit the needs of the story at the time. I think this was because my own life experiences informed the novel, so my subconscious wrote it for me. Dead Again, the urban fantasy/romance I’m writing now has thrown itself at me in snippets, all out of order, and I’ve had to fill in the blanks. So, really, for me it’s different with each book.
Denise: Your novel, No Apologies, is a m/m romance. Tell me, where did the title come from?
Tibby: The title came to me as I was writing one of the pivotal scenes in the novel. If you follow my blog at all, you probably know I love to listen to music as I write. Well, on this day I was listening to Pandora, and Nirvana’s song All Apologies came on. I hadn’t heard the song in years, and something about it drew me in. So, I brought it up on YouTube and really listened to the lyrics. The attitude of the lyrics—that we shouldn’t have to apologize for being different—inspired my title.
Are They Here Yet?
Published April 10, 2011 | 
My edits are on their way. I’ve spoken to my editor and she’s advised (roughly) when to expect them. I’ve still got a couple more weeks, but does that stop me from checking my inbox as frequently as a child peeks out a window in anxious expectation of a beloved visitor? Absolutely not. I leave my email open and I get excited with every ping, every blip, every imagined sound that just might indicate the edits for Legacy are here. Shouldn’t this anxiety be over? Haven’t I earned a little respite from the chest-restricting fear that I might miss something if I step away from my computer? The answer is, very clearly, no.
I have learned that, at every stage, writing is as much about patience as it is anything else. You write your story and give it a month to rest before you begin editing and rewriting. You query agents and give them six weeks to six month to respond. Your agent submits to editors and publishers while you–you guessed it–wait to hear something either way. You sign with a publisher then wait for the contracts. Sign your contracts and wait for revisions. Finish your revisions and wait for release day. And while you’re waiting on release day, you’ve started your new work-in-progress (WIP) so you may, masochistically, begin the process all over again.
So if I’m not good at waiting, why did I even bother writing? I’m not sure there’s a sufficient answer other than “Because it was never a choice.” I write like I breathe; it’s an extension of who I am. And I’m afraid if I stop the character voices will come close to overwhelming for me now that I’ve opened the door and invited them inside.
I suppose that, truly, the purpose of the post is to encourage you to be more prepared than I was should you venture into the tempermental world of publishing. I have to go–I think my computer just pinged!
Dang. It was the microwave. Better luck next vaguely familiar, remotely similar sound. 
Humor in Writing
Published April 8, 2011 | 
“Excuse me, miss, but I ordered a tuxedo mousse not mouse.“ In and of itself, this isn’t a funny line. But in the right context, with the right set-up and delivery, this could be hysterical. Sure, it might be hard to imagine now, but you never know the whole story from a single laugh line. So where does humor in writing come from?
Humor is, in large part, a byproduct of your relationship with the character(s) involved in its delivery. Think about this carefully: how many people in your life do you have inside jokes with? I have a bestest friend EVAH to whom I can say, “Inkblot, my SAB.” She’ll die laughing at that. In and of itself, it’s not funny. However, if you knew the rest of the story and characters involved, you’d laugh your arse off too. If this is true, how, then, do you set up humor effectively in your writing?
First and foremost, don’t forget to tell the rest of the story. You must write your character(s) well and create a relationship not only character to character, but reader to character. This takes a bit of time to set up. It’s a rare thing for a writer to be able to make a reader laugh right out of the gate. I read a Janet Evanovich novel where the character, Stefanie Plum, has her car vandalized. It happens in Act I of the novel. I laughed out loud at the scene and it’s one that still makes me chuckle on a re-read. Yet a new reader who is unfamiliar with the series might read it and not understand the humor. It’s based on the relationship with the character, an implied history between reader and character/writer, that makes the chord strike the funny bone.
Another “must” in delivering humor is to consider the source or the victim. Take the character above for this example. One of the reasons the scene I mentioned is funny is because bad things always happen to Stefanie Plum. It’s a rule of the universe that she must be unlucky. It’s one of the things that makes her so charming and easy to relate to as a character. We all see bits of ourselves in her.
In considering the source and/or victim, understand that a character who has dead-panned the entire novel won’t break into song and dance and make readers laugh. It will confuse them as to why the character has lost his mind. But if that character ends up unwillingly hypnotized or bespelled and believes he’s a horny cricket? That might be funny.
Finally, consider delivery. Your best humor needs to be set up somewhat. My favorite lines ever written come from book two of the Niteclif Evolutions. I won’t spoil the comment but it’s a doozy. It’s a funny, snarky comment on its own, which is rare, but it’s all the more entertaining because of the character’s history and the situation that leads her to pop off with the two lines. She delivers the snark in the appropriate setting. As a writer, I considered what my readers might see in the scene and decided a brief moment of laughter would be beneficial. It’s a darker moment, but the humor is well-timed and scene-appropriate (if I do say so myself).
Can you add to this? Tell me what makes humor work for you in a novel as both a reader and a writer.
Now Available
Coming 04/03/12
