Excuse me!

"Quit whining and get writing."

Picture an office, the frosted glass door emblazoned with the words: Writing Agony Uncle. A writer, clutching a bunch of rejection letters and a hefty manuscript, taps timidly on the doorframe.

"It's open."

The writer touches the door handle, feeling his sweat against the brass.

"Take a seat."

The Agony Uncle leans back in his seat, feet on the desk. He's wearing a Sam Spade fedora. "Shoot."

The writer slumps into a chair, wondering why the office decor dates to the 1930s. He passes over his rejection slips. "It's just not fair!"

The Agony Uncle flicks through the pages, nodding at the occasion titbit of feedback. "Of course it ain't fair, you stoopid Limey." (He's American.) "Who said it's supposed to be fair? It's nature - survival of the thickskinned. Kill or be killed. Use what you got." He senses a bunch of excuses are about to be pitched his way and picks pulls a baseball bat out of the drawer.

"I'm too old to be a successful writer."

"Funny you should say that. Helen Hooven Santmyer was published at 88."

"Well, then I'm too young to be a successful writer."

"Interesting. Christopher Beale had a book launch for This and Last Season's Excursions when he was six years old."

"Okay, but I've had too many rejections to be a successful writer."

"Four words - Gone with the Wind." (Reputed to have earned 38 rejections.)

I've had too few rejections to be a successful writer.

(Flicks through the sheets.) "Somehow I doubt that! What else ya got, kid?"

"I'm not educated enough, I'm too unphotogenic to be an author, and I don't have the right connections."

The Agony Uncle is silent for a while, weighing the bat in his hand. "I hear your pain, kid; sure I do. But you're missing the point. And the point is..."

(After a long pause.) "To...erm...write?"

"Bingo. Write a compelling, knock-me-down-on-my-ass novel and see how those hang-ups fade to the background. Sure, get an education; get some professional headshots - or a stand-in; network and schmooze until you get an 'in'. But remember that the writing comes first. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Now, move along. I've got a two o'clock who's struggling to match the success of her first novel. Jeez, you writers - you'e never content!"

So, what are your excuses and how do you overcome them?

What's my motivation?

Porsha is not amused by tales of dogs and foxes.

We all know that the quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog, but what I want to know is why? After all, it could have gone tiptoed past the dog. It could have given the dog a wide berth, and gone down the pub instead (the Fox and Hounds, presumably). Or maybe it actually jumped over the dog on a motorbike, as part of a charity fundraiser, but history has simplified the event?

Motivation and purpose are key elements of good characterisation. Yes, we need to know who the goodies, baddies and ambiguities are, but we also need to understand what made them that way and what governs their actions.

A mindless psychopath is infinitely more fulfilling as a protag or an antag once we encounter an event that triggered their behaviour, or discover the childhood incident which was a warning sign that all was not well.

It's true of other figures too. When we understand why Mr Darcy reacts to Elizabeth Bennet the way he does, our feelings for him change - he shows complexity and vulnerability, and perhaps a little more swoonability (I'm guessing here).

This subtle reveal needs a light touch, and is best achieved without a surfeit of adverbs. Consider this slice of Flash Fiction* (which I will now hastily make up to order)...

He watched the fly crawl up the chopstick, marvelling at its instinct for survival. Seven times now, and still it found the strength to escape the water in the beaker. The fly was only millimetres from the end before he gently lifted it on to his finger, and then flicked it back to the bottom of the beaker. "Nice try," he smiled. His other hand, palm upwards, held the glistening insect wings he had pulled off at the start of the experiment.

I don't know about you, but that guy makes my flesh creep. However, I also want to know what makes him tick. Maybe if I can appreciate what made him turn out like this I can overcome my revulsion and keep on reading.

Motivation and purpose add layers of depth to your characters. Knowing what drives them, and perhaps what they're running away from, can suggest actions and reactions you might never otherwise have considered. It can be the catalyst for the magical moment when your characters come to life and - as I've discovered twice in my novels - start arguing for their rights or suggest plot ideas.

So, do you know what makes your characters tick, and how to get that across to your readers?

And for the non-writing readers among you, does understanding Mr Darcy's motivations make him more desirable?

* As today is National Flash Fiction Day, allow me to introduce Kissing Frankenstein & Other Stories by Flash Fiction South West. You can also read a little more about it here.

Ten Tips to Trounce Writer's Block

There's a school of thought that says there's no such thing as writer's block. It's an excuse put about by lazy wasters who spend more time dreaming of glitzy literary parties than doing any actual work. But whether or not you subscribe to this view, there's no denying the fact that writing has its bad patches. Sometimes it's extremely difficult indeed. Sometimes it's hard to write anything at all; sometimes it's impossible to believe that what you've written is any good.

Today I'm listing my favourite strategies for getting going again when the going has got tough. You probably have lots more ideas I haven't thought of - if so, please add them in the comments and let's build up a resource that has something for everyone.

1. Fool your brain
I read somewhere [citation needed] that smiling releases endorphins, so by making yourself smile, you trick your brain into feeling happier. Similarly, you can convince said brain that you're writing. I do this by copying out something I have already written. The act of scribbling makes it easier to carry on beyond the end of the scene, and before I know it, I'm writing something new.

2. Do the fun bit
Skip ahead to an easy scene, or one that's been occupying your mind so much that you can't get on with anything else until you've written it.

3. Tell the dog
Explain verbally what you're trying to achieve. Tell a pet, a tree, a cuddly toy, a tape recorder, or if you're very brave, a writer friend. Articulating the idea brings it into focus, and even if the dog just snuggles deeper into his basket in the hope you'll go away, you have made a statement of intent – once you've said it, you have to get on with it.

4. A change of scene
Try writing somewhere different – in the garden, on a park bench, in a café or library. Or try longhand when you normally use a computer, or vice versa. Break the habit of sitting in the same place staring at the same blank page.

5. Get off your backside
The word “exercise” strikes fear into the heart of those of us who remember shivering on a sleet-swept hockey pitch while a “teacher” with the world view of a Tyrannosaurus Rex (but a smaller brain) screamed “MOOOOOVE!” But it doesn't have to be like that. Exercise includes nice stuff like walking and gardening. Ignore the fact that lots of hugely talented famous writers were drunken slobs – exercise really does renew your mental and physical energy. Honest.
I am trying to convince myself of this more than I'm trying to convince you.

6. Shoot the crap-censor
Writer's block isn't just the blank-page phenomenon – sometimes it means looking back over every sentence with a despairingly critical eye. It all seems so, so dire that you never make any progress. Don't worry, just lower your standards. In fact, don't have any standards at all. Hell, you can even use adverbs if you like. Just bung any old crap on the page. [Caroline makes a superhuman effort to resist the temptation to add “It works for Dan Brown.”]

7. Don't be yourself
If you are not motivated and inspired, act the part of someone who is. Pretend to be a focused, well-organised, supremely talented writer, and get her/him to do the work.

8. Clock on
In a normal job, you must show up and get on with it whether you like it or not. Treat writing the same way for a while - turn up, slog through it, then go home. Others might view your writing as a self-indulgent arty-farty little hobby, and it's difficult not to internalise this attitude and feel that, because you're not guaranteed to make money, it isn't real work. Tell your inner guilt to take a hike, because it is important and it does deserve the time.

9. Tiny goals
Set a minuscule target – to write 100 words, or to edit one page. Every step is an achievement and is far better than neglecting your writing on the basis that you haven't really got time to get into it - with the result that the small amount of time you do have is aimlessly spent watching YouTube vids of funny cats.

10. Wait it out
Tides ebb and flow; so does the writing life. Motivation and inspiration need a rest sometimes – let them rest, and do something else while they take their time to regenerate. Treat 'em mean and keep 'em keen – if you don't agonise over them or lament their absence, chances are they'll come crawling back when you least expect them.





http://www.carolinerance.co.uk/





Photograph by Warley Rossi.