Morning’s cold caress. /
Afternoon’s gentle embrace./
Evening’s parting kiss.
Haiku to you Thursday: “Phases”
Morning’s cold caress. /
Afternoon’s gentle embrace./
Evening’s parting kiss.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, Photo by author
Writing tip Wednesday: “Giving the Bad Guys Their Due”
6 Ways to Write Better Bad Guys
by Laura Disilverio
Luckily, transforming your antagonist from a one-dimensional paper doll into a force to be reckoned with—and remembered—is completely possible if you implement a few simple but powerful methods for creating antagonists and expanding their roles. You can build a worthy adversary during the outlining process or beef one up when you revise your already completed draft. It’s never too late.
Make your antagonists as interesting as your protagonists.
The antagonist must act to prevent your heroine from achieving her goals, whether that action is whispering reminders that she’s totally useless, plunging a knife into her back or anything in between. The type of action your antagonist takes will depend on his nature and the kind of story you’re writing. But your story must have an antagonist. (In some stories—Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde comes to mind—the protagonist is actually his own antagonist.) Without an active antagonist, your hero could take a leisurely Sunday stroll toward his goal. Lacking the obstacles a worthy antagonist would provide, he would also lack the opportunity for growth or the necessity to change, and his character arc would flatline (as would your sales).
With the following tips in mind, reread your manuscript with an eye toward making your antagonist as compelling as your protagonist. Some effort on your part could even put your villain in the heady company of Professor Moriarty, the White Witch, Simon Legree and Nurse Ratched.
1. Remember that Antagonists are people, too.
I stop reading novels in which the antagonist is obviously nothing more than a device to move the plot in a certain direction. If I can’t empathize with the antagonist, believe in her motives or understand why she’s dishing out evil, I put the book aside. Flesh out your antagonist. Give us an origin story (how she became the way she is) or show that she regrets something and might change if given a chance.
If working with a nonhuman antagonist, personify him at least a little bit. Think of Frankenstein’s loneliness, HAL’s (the computer in 2001: A Space Odyssey) jealousy or Shere Khan’s hatred of the “man cub” (The Jungle Book). Show the antagonist doing something nice. Even villains love their mothers or cockapoos, volunteer at soup kitchens or help snow-stuck motorists push their cars out of intersections. Do this early on. Give him believable, even laudable, motives.
Inspector Javert from Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables is a strong antagonist because his obsession with finding Valjean stems from his belief that stealing is wrong. How many readers would disagree with that? Javert’s insistence that theft is always, without exception, wrong, however, turns his crusade into persecution. His inability to believe that good and evil can coexist in a single man leads him to suicide. His death is one of the story’s tragedies because he has been so thoroughly developed as a character and because we have, from the beginning, understood his motives and his flaws.
Other was include:
2. Eschew the totally evil antagonist (except, possibly, in some horror or monster stories).
3. If you’re tempted to say your antagonist is a corporation, disease or war—don’t.
4. Make your antagonist at least as smart, strong and capable as the protagonist.
5. Keep the tension strong when the antagonist is a friend, ally or loved one.
6. If your antagonist remains hidden for much of the story (as in a mystery), give him proxies or let him work behind the scenes.
For more on these other steps, go to http://www.writersdigest.com/online-editor/6-ways-to-write-better-bad-guys?et_mid=636328&rid=239626420
Filed under Photo by author, Writing Tip Wednesday
Monday morning writing humor: “Prattle”
Have critics said of your work: “He never gets to his last word.”? This is called Prattlitus or Prattlitous.
Or perhaps it was phrased this way: “His conclusion is longer than his discussion.” This is called Inconclusivity.
Or, when asked to write a summary of your latest novel, has you agent said to another: “His summary is longer than the original.”? And this is called Conclusionaires Disease.
If so, you may be a prime candidate for the Authors School of Pith, or ASP for short.
As ASP you will learn the two routes to pith: No! and Hell no!
We will tone your flabby vowels, strengthen your grammatical ganglia, and brief your brevity so that you can once again find your soul of wit.
So call today for your free 30-day trial. 1-888-ASP-WIPE. Try it, risk free, and see as we teach you the pleasure of the last word, how to conclude with brevity and dignity, and most important of all, we will teach you the value of summary when you see our final bill.
Photo finish Friday: “Pumpkin squash”
Sometimes you feel like a pumpkin; sometimes you don’t.
Filed under Photo by author, Photo Finish Friday
Haiku to you Thursday: “Generous”
Hawk perched in an oak, /
generous in its silence. /
Empty feeder swings.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
cARtOONSDAY: “hOW tHINGS sTACK uP”
Sometimes the odd (and even) pages are stacked against you.
Filed under cartoon by author, CarToonsday
Monday morning writing humor: “The Captain said”
What the Captain said
The boat is fine, the captain said;
he said it to our face.
The boat is fine, the captain said,
the river sets the pace.
The boat is fine, the captain said,
and then he said no more.
The boat is fine, the captain said
as we sailed away from shore.
The boat is fine, the captain said,
as the river tossed us about.
The boat is fine, the captain said,
as some of us wanted out.
The boat is fine, the captain said,
steering for the roughest part.
The boat is fine, the captain said;
he’d said it from the start.
The boat is fine, the captain said
as the waves thumped into the boat
The boat is fine, the captain said
as some of us tried to float.
The boat is fine, the captain said,
Come back again next year.
The boat is fine, the captain said —
but captain, I hope you’re not here.
The first, fall flush of success.
Filed under Monday morning writing humor, poetry by author
Haiku to you Thursday: “State stars start”
Stars still light the night /
yet a light across the yard /
states the morning’s start.
Filed under Haiku to You Thursday, poetry by author
Writing tip Wednesday: “As you like it?”
PenPal asks: Should you use “like” or “as”?
Many writers use “like” incorrectly as a preposition in certain instances when they should instead use “as” (or “as if” or “as though”). The rule is really quite simple, and following it will make your writing more professional.
Like is correct when used as a preposition, a part of speech followed by an object (noun or pronoun). Example:
(Correct) She writes like Dickinson. (like is the preposition; Dickinson is the object)
Like is also acceptable when it introduces a clause from which the verb has been omitted.
Example:
(Correct) My mother takes to flower gardening like a bird to air. (bird is the object)
Like used as a preposition does not correctly introduce a verb phrase.
Example:
(Incorrect) Donovan smiled like he was happy about my bad luck. (“He was” is not an object of a preposition; it is a verb phrase.)
But the writer could phrase it this way:
(Correct) Donovan smiled like a lunatic when he found out about my bad luck. (The object here is “lunatic.”)
Or this way:
(Correct) Donovan smiled as though he was happy about my bad luck.
Here are some sample questions to try out this word usage skill. Mark each sentence as correct (C) or incorrect (I). Identify the object when “like” has been used correctly.
___1. Lillian walked like a duck because her new shoes fit poorly.
___2. When you stormed into my house, you acted like you owned it.
___3. Jeremy looked like he’d been hit by a truck when Meredith turned him down.
___4. Mary and Alvin are twins; she looks a lot like him.
___5. My dog eats like a pig when we give her canned food.
Answers:
1. C (Object is “duck”)
2. I (No object)
3. I (No object)
4. C (Object is “him”)
5. C (Object is “pig”)
________
Cathy Kodra a/k/a PenPal
Cathy Kodra works as an independent editor in Knoxville, TN. Her poetry and short stories have appeared in numerous journals and anthologies including Roanoke Review, New Millennium Writings, Common Ground Review, Now & Then, Cavalier Literary Couture, Slow Trains, Still Crazy, The Medulla Review, Prime Mincer, Yemassee, and others. She is a contributing editor for New Millennium Writings and past guest poetry editor for The Medulla Review. She was first runner up in Prime Mincer’s 2011 Poetry Contest, judged by Rodney Jones, and took first place in the 2012 Old Gray Cemetery Poetry Contest. Cathy’s first poetry chapbook, Thin Ice, was published in 2011 by Medulla Publishing.
Cathy is a member of the Knoxville Writers’ Guild and of two local writing groups. An avid reader and writer, she is currently working on two poetry collections and a collection of short stories. Her hobbies include gardening and vegan cooking, and she lives happily with her husband Ron, two dogs, and a cat. She can be reached at www.cathykodra.com.
Filed under Writing Tip Wednesday
Monday morning writing humor: “Registered failure”
Even the registered mail doesn’t recognize me.
I’m a writer and I don’t get no respect. Just the other day I went to pick up a registered letter addressed to me from an agent, but the post office wouldn’t let me have it because they said I wasn’t the writer the letter was addressed to.
I showed them by driver’s license. Not good enough.
I showed them my Social Security Card. Not good enough.
I showed them my library card. Not good enough.
Only when I showed them a box full of rejection slips did they believe me.
Filed under Monday morning writing joke, no respect
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