CM’s Guide to Writing Fanfiction

Foreword

Before starting, I want to express one thing: this “guide” is not an absolute truth and should not be considered an instruction manual. There are as many ways of writing as there are writers. This guide is merely a gather of the various things I’ve noted over the past eight years that helped me sort my ideas and write stories that I was proud to call my own. I have tried to organize things in a semblance of order, but I certainly do not presume to cover everything or be entirely reliable. These things worked for me, but should not be expected to work every single time for everyone.

The reason I chose to write this is that many people ask for advice, want to know where to start, how to handle a fandom, or just want to know how I go about writing. This is an answer I hope will cover as many aspects of those questions as possible.

Love,

CrazygurlMadness

July 2007

Introduction

Writing fanfiction is quite possibly the best training for young authors. Ever. The world, characters, settings, history and general background are all ready to be used and don’t require any preparation. Fanfiction is a playground, a sandbox mode for all aspiring authors. As such, fanfiction provides writers with a safe training ground to hone their passion for words.

This guide will try to cover many mistakes new authors make in writing fanfiction. Most of these advices will hold true even after one chooses to spread their wings and try original fiction. There aren’t that many differences in the process, frankly, between fanfiction and original fiction, after all.

I’ll also try to discuss clichés, posting, receiving feedback and replying to it. There are things that can destroy an author’s desire to write or, inversely, propel it. I’ll try to address them as generally as possible, but bear in mind they are based on my own experiences.

Most examples given in this guide will be taken from the Legend of Zelda fandom or invented off the top of my head. They might also be taken from stories or books I’ve read/written. I’ll try to make them as clear as I can.

Ideas

It all starts with that four-letter word, and I don’t mean the other four-letter words you may be thinking about.

Getting Ideas

There’s no secret, I’m sorry to tell you, about getting ideas. Often people think only “imaginative” or “creative” people can come up with the nasty little buggers, but that’s a lie. The reason they say this is that they’re too lazy to try. After all, the only way you’re sure to not get ideas is to not try in the first place. There’s nothing genetic or innate about getting ideas. If you have a brain, as small as you may humbly claim it is, then you are fully capable of getting the dear light bulb above your head.

There are two ways to get ideas, and this is where most people might lose hope.

The first way is often the one that makes you feel best and the one those party-poopers I described above tend to think is the “only” way to get ideas (even though, as I’ll soon demonstrate, they’re wrong.) This way of finding ideas is basically that you don’t actively seek them. You go about your life, learning things, basically staying interested and finding something good about everything. Stay positive ―it helps. When the mind has been going through a long time of intense work, it tends to wander and shut down, somehow. Ideas tend to pop up then. Or you could be talking with people, listening to their stories, when suddenly a small detail attracts your attention and you latch onto it, extrapolating.

Sure, it seems like magic, and that’s the way a lot of people describe getting their ideas, but that’s not the only way, and you’ll see that it’s not genetic. There is another way to get ideas.

Indeed, the second way is to sit down and think. “Oh, great,” you’ll say, and I understand your exasperation. It seems unpleasant, because we are often forced to do it in school or at work and we associate the process with examinations and stress and, generally, something we’d rather not do. But there is no evil in the actual fact of sitting and thinking. All you need is a quiet place, something you consider familiar and peaceful, where you are left alone with your own thoughts and can just think about what you want to write about.

The fun thing about this process is that your only instructions are “find something you really would like to write about”. The mental progression after this can depend on just about anything: what you have around you, what happened during your day, what makes you happy or sad… the list goes on. Let your mind wander and come back. Don’t keep it on a leash. There are no “right” or “wrong” thoughts. I mostly suggest doing it away from prying eyes because sometimes you’ll spontaneously start laughing or tearing up or just looking around randomly, and people may misinterpret it as something else; being in public can make us self-conscious or uncomfortable.

Choosing An Idea

So you got an idea, and you’re skirting around the concept of actually putting it down on paper, and with time new ideas spawn, or your original idea splits up in fifteen strands of ideas, or you found a new fandom you want to explore, or something really inspiring just happened to you… Before you know it, you’re overwhelmed!

Getting a large number of ideas is normal. It’s not a sign of a mental disorder. What I find helpful when this happens is to write down whatever I feel like writing first. Often, two or three main ideas will surface above the tiny strands. A full scene may be playing out like a movie in your head ―write it. Scenes are often the start of something bigger. A witty conversation keeps repeating itself in your head, or funny banter ―write it down. Dialogues can sometimes be reworked into a larger story. A climactic moment is begging to be written ―write it down. You may be the kind who works in reverse and writes the end before the beginning.

The real solution to multiple plot bunnies is to write whatever feels best. Don’t expect your idea to stick around forever, though. Some of them die out, some of them get forgotten, and before you know it, that internal line of dialogue you had reworked ten times over in your head is gone. Don’t trust your memory; ideas have a way of slipping out of your grasp without your noticing.

Once you have plenty of ideas down, trust your gut. Often, it’ll urge you to write one of them more than the others. I can’t give you advice on this. It’s a gut feeling that you need to follow before anything.

Here’s the rule of thumb: if you don’t feel a passion for the story, readers won’t either.

Planning

So your idea has progressed a little. You’ve written perhaps a few pages of it, and you’ve got a good feeling about it. You think it has the potential to expand into something more. But you don’t know where you’re really headed and something feels gimmicky about it.

There are ways to improve the quality of your story, and these are things your readers won’t even consciously perceive. They do wonders for the writing soul, though.

Research

The bane of every living human. Depending on your appreciation of the word and everything it entails, your level of research will vary. As a general rule, however, research is an inevitable part of preparing and writing a story. You’ll be doing it whether you like it or not if you want to write quality stuff.

Research isn’t automatically about reading everything there is to know about nuclear science, though. It can be as simple as checking the spelling of a character or enemy’s name, or the origins of your favourite places and characters and objects. It’s often fun and educative. You can read up on plenty of stuff in fansites and encyclopaedias.

For instance, it is a blasphemy to write “Gannondorf” instead of “Ganondorf”. And did you know “Dragmire” was a mistranslation of Ganondorf? That “Harkinian” is Zelda’s last name in the Captain-N 80s comics… but not in the official games?

Remember: before creating your own fanon, you’re much better off knowing your canon by heart. That way, no one can argue with you, and if they do, you can reply with plain facts.

I make a point of knowing all the latest news about the Legend of Zelda, for instance. I’ve read most articles and interviews and I keep rigorously up to date. I’ve listened to most related movies and watched most ―if not all― trailers. Knowing trivia might seem obsessive, but when you’re called to use it regularly, it’s practical.

But don’t let your knowledge be limited by the fandom you’re working in. It’s great to ask questions and read up on plenty of unrelated subjects. For example, did you know that tagging is a form of recognition on the streets? Once you recognise the tags being put around your neighbourhood, you can choose to put your tag beside the original tag (form of respect) or tag on top the first tag (show of disrespect).

I learned this from an acquaintance of mine, who is what most people would call a pot-smoking bum. I wouldn’t have found it online or with anyone else. People are as much of a resource as books can be, and most of them will be pleased to be asked questions on things they know.

Research isn’t always fun and games, though. Sometimes you need to know scientific or historical things, and if science and history aren’t your thing, you’ll just want to get in there, get your answer, and get back out.

What matters most is that you don’t cut corners. Take the time to research things at least a little ―they’ll make you even smarter and you’ll have solid ground to build on.

Characters

Let’s get one thing out of the way. In fiction, characters are the most important thing. There is nothing else that can top the importance of a well-defined character. They are the story’s carriers, the helpers, the enemies, and everything in between. Characters don’t need a story, but a story definitely needs its characters.

I could go for pages and pages on how much characters are crucial to a story, but it would amount to a bottom line that says:

If you screw up your characters, your story will look just like they do.

Must I make myself any clearer? Characters are essential to the story. You cannot afford to bend them to the story’s will. That’s not how it works. Is your life bending you to its will? No. You are making your life as it is by being who you are.

At this point, you’ll either nod sagely in understanding or argue: “But, CM, I want my story to happen like I want it, not like the characters need to have it!”

It’s not fun to realise you’re not fully in charge of the characters, but with time you learn to bend them to your needs while respecting who you define them to be.

Defining Characters

As a general rule, one character can be summed up with five adjectives or less. Unless you’re going for the genre noir, a character doesn’t need more than five characteristics to function properly.

For example, the Link I described in Only in Hyrule was unreadable, smart, good-humoured and considerate. The Link I described in Summit was brotherly, cheerful, protective, caring. The Link I described in Straight Shooter was arrogant, self-absorbed, determined, teasing and underhanded.

Never once in those stories did Link stray from the definition I had given him.

What may affect a character’s behaviour, aside from their fundamental personality, is the emotions they feel, and even then, they express their emotions as their personality commands it. Link in Only in Hyrule expressed anger by closing up, like a clam, and having it simmer almost unseen, whereas the Link in Straight Shooter would express anger by hacking at stuff, violently, with a sharp, pointy object.

Characters can also evolve. This is a gradual (I repeat, gradual) change that should occur over a fixed lapse of time and appear either sudden and justified, or slow and regular. Zelda in Only in Hyrule started off as unmotivated, unconfident but good-hearted, and finished off motivated, confident and remained good-hearted. The change came bit by bit, with experiences and tiny pushes in the right direction.

Always keep in mind that your characters need a destination. If you have a plot you need your characters to uphold, then don’t try to make your characters into ultra-cool rigid types. Choose personality traits that can effectively uphold the plot. If you need a weak-minded character, you better give your protagonist a major flaw to be played on, because otherwise, your story will feel weird or unnatural.

Speaking of flaws, for all that is holy in all the fandoms, don’t give them flaws that are too extreme or too weak. The most common mistake is to give them flaws that aren’t really flaws, like, “He was too much of a perfectionist,” or “She was just too beautiful, sometimes.” These aren’t flaws. These are not things that will really shape their lives, unless he dies because of his perfectionism or she gets kidnapped and threatened because she’s so pretty.

A rarer but still possible occurrence is that they might have flaws that impede so much on their life that, technically, they’d be dead or in a mental hospital. For instance, “She was a heavy alcoholic and shot at anyone who came into the house,” or “He was a zoo-necro-pedophile.” Like, no. Do you know that many people like that? If so (unlikely), shouldn’t you remotely understand how they really behave? And how much that prevents you from having a story based on them?

Normal, likely flaws include things such as mild phobias ―claustrophobia, arachnophobia, acrophobia, to name but a few― or slight obsessive-compulsive tendencies. Some people are dependant on things ―alcohol, drugs, medication― or have character traits that get them into troublesome or dangerous situations ―promiscuous, aggressive, nervous― and some just have anxiety attacks for various reasons.

Flaws don’t have to play an active role in the story, but your character should always be mindful of his fears or weaknesses. They will affect his perception of the world. A person who fears flying will not wonder at the amazing talents of fighter-pilots.

Your characters also need a status in life. How old are they, roughly? At what stage in their romantic life/career are they? How much money do they own? What are their aspirations? Do they drift or do they drive? Keep in mind that extremes are to be avoided to maintain realism.

Finally, a great way to define characters is to find synonyms to replace their name with.

For instance, Link is also “the Hero of Time”, “keeper of the Triforce of Courage”, “man”, “young man”, “blonde”, “he”, and, depending on the context, “warrior”, “soldier”, “rider”, “mechanic”, “businessman”, “waiter”, “beggar”, “thief”, and so on.

Zelda can be “the Princess of Hyrule”, “the Princess of Destiny”, “keeper of the Triforce of Wisdom”, “woman”, “young woman”, “blonde”, “she”, or even “student”, “waitress”, “actress”, “musician”, “teacher”, “politician”, “computer programmer”, “fighter”, and so on.

As you write, these words ―so long as they are exclusive to a single character in a given scene― will remind you and the reader of the character’s identity and definition.

Original Characters

Creating original characters is legitimate. Sometimes you need them to push a story forward because the canon characters don’t fit the bill. That’s fine. You can create the “friendly barkeep” or the “snotty noble” or the “filthy beggar” or the “helpful teacher”. These characters add dimension to a world and give the reader an idea of the kind of crowd your main characters are mingling with. It’s hard to stray from clichés in these types, because they carry a defined part of the story and little else. They are two dimensional.

If, however, the barkeep were to become a backstabbing murderer, he suddenly takes on a whole new dimension and becomes one of the protagonists or antagonists, however minor. He’s no longer a spectator on the sidelines, because he steps away from the typical stereotype. You can’t just discard him at the end of your paragraph anymore.

Creating original characters in fanfiction is a risky operation, mostly because of how fans look down on these OCs that they consider close-cousins of Mary-Sues ―and for good reason. Beginner authors often seek to create what they consider “worthy” matches to the main character of their story. The problem is that these OCs are projections of the author’s desires and lack realism, and they often push every other character off the stage to bask in their own greatness.

An OC, in a fanfiction, should never have more importance than the main canon characters. If the main character is Zelda, for instance, an OC should not surpass her in importance or “awesomeness”. The focus must stay the same throughout the whole story.

OCs are legitimate, but not if they’re spotlight stealers. If an author feels their character deserves to have their own story, they should stray away from fanfiction and just go for original fiction. Few readers want to hear about OCs traveling the world of Hyrule, but there might be some who want to read an original fiction with them in it.

Plotline

A story’s plot is rarely hopeless, but often clichéd. I cannot exactly give lessons on plotlines. They are all be different and cannot (should not) fit into guidelines.

Still, I will name a few overused clichés and implore you all to rethink the use of these plots ―I’ve seen them often, and I’m not the only one. Sure, some can be adapted magnificently, but they are still used overmuch.

·           Link and Zelda are walking through the gardens, among the rosebushes, and discuss their relationship. This is often accompanied by emotional metaphors and references to thorns, with a few dainty tears rolling down cheeks.

·           Princess Zelda escapes to the marketplace ―because being rich and powerful is just too much sometimes― in disguise and meets Link, a lowly peasant, who shows her everything she’s missing out on.

·           Thinking that he’s alone, Link proclaims his love for Zelda. Out loud. And shock, she overhears and declares she loves him too.

So many more fragments are used too much. A fanfiction will rarely be commended on its predictability. Think outside the box.

As far as planning the story goes, I recommend having a very vague outline in your head or on paper. Don’t go into details, or you’ll feel you spoiled the story for yourself. You won’t feel like rewriting something that you already planned out down to the tiniest details. I often don’t even write the endings of my stories, even though I know them, because writing something down is like finalising it and there’s no fun in knowing the punch to a story.

Setting

Settings are generally provided with canon in a fandom. Cities, countries, history, legends, tales, songs, social hierarchy, towns, villages, and places in general are all part of the fandom. If one chooses not to alter this setting, it’s perfectly understandable. After all, it’s all there, waiting to be used. Go with my blessings ―just remember to spell the place names properly.

From the moment, however, that you choose to alter the original universe, you are toying with a whole new set of parameters. You can change everything. The very laws of physics can be modified if you so please. The story becomes an Alternate Universe (AU).

As far as planning is concerned, you need to have a general idea of what this new setting looks like. It doesn’t have to be extensive, but you’re better off knowing everything you need to know. Did the cities change locations? Are the countries neighbours? What technology are your characters going to use? Have they bounced forward to mingle with the Skywalkers, or regressed to the Stone Age?

I find making maps ―even vague ones― can help you situate yourself. Sketches of new things and vehicles can be drawn. I often research fashion pictures online to help me in my descriptions. Symbolism can become a large part of the story; religious groups, political factions… Everything that makes up your world should have a basic outline in your head, to avoid contradictions as the story progresses.

In long projects I make a separate document, often a full folder, of references and notes ―place descriptions, history, political standings, sports, cultures, economics. Pictures and charts aren’t unusual. Character names are integral to the development, and I have a full file with all character names, archived in alphabetical order. I can easily check the spelling or find their bio online.

Remember: as far as planning goes, you can’t really go overboard. Just make sure not to choke yourself with it.

Writing

This is what everyone will see, what will be your doing or undoing. Your quality is judged by the quality of what you write. Here I’ll try to go over a few notes and suggestions that can help you improve various aspects of your writing. I’ll be speaking from experience, so keep in mind that I have probably done a couple of the mistakes I’ll mention lower.

Intros

Let’s face facts. Most people come in to read the first few lines of a story and decide if they want to continue or not after three paragraphs. It’s a quick, expeditive evaluation of the rest of your story that they’re conducting. If you don’t trap them then, you won’t have another chance. Odds are they’ll click the Back button and forget about you.

So, as with first impressions, you have a limited space to convince the reader to like you. Or, actually, to be blunt, you have three paragraphs to hook the reader beyond all hope.

It’s a daunting task, to be sure. Introductions are underestimated. Because in many cases it is presumed that they are supposed to establish a situation ―which is correct, but not well-used―, authors begin with long-winded descriptions that are often more than a reader really wants to know. Introductions are important, yes, in that regard, but must the first five lines absolutely delve in the finer details of a character’s personality? When you meet someone for the first time, won’t you be attracted by the looks and quirk in their smile before ever considering their brains? A story is like a stranger that you want readers to meet and like. Dress it up nicely, and by god, attract their attention.

How do you capture a reader’s attention, then?

Short statements are good. They are quick to read, to the point, and efficient in conveying the mood of a story.

Example: 1. As the light fades beautifully behind the rooftops and the people bustle by on their jolly business, I realise with lots of dread and a feeling of real horror that I’m in trouble.

Or…

2. I’m in trouble.

Sure, the light fades beautifully behind the rooftops and the people bustle by on their jolly business, but I realise my problem with lots of dread and a feeling of real horror.

Odds are you would continue reading option 2 as opposed to option 1. The first option is more poetic, sure, but it doesn’t express things fast enough, and it doesn’t hook readers quickly enough. By the time they reach the main point of your sentence, they’re already winded.

You can replace the short statement by a line of dialogue, too. Readers grab on to quotation marks like dogs on bones. They can notice quotation marks in a text easier than any other punctuation, because they know lines of dialogue often convey important information.

Example: 1. Malon chewed on her cherry flavoured gum and said she didn’t know why I was freaking out so much.

2. “I don’t understand why you’re freaking out so much,” Malon said, chewing on her cherry flavoured gum.

Option 2 felt a lot more attractive to the eye than option 1, right? Number 1 was like a tedious line of description that few people bother to read, whereas option 2 seemed to convey a matter of importance.

Once you’ve set the hook out for readers to grab on, you can use the following few paragraphs to describe something with movement or have a witty exchange of dialogue. Action and dialogue are the most common ways to keep readers interested, especially if they’re charged with appeal, whether sexual, dramatic, violent, passionate, alarmed, or generally emotive. It has the added effect of propelling the story forward from the outset. Awesome, isn’t it?

And then your readers are hooked. You can move on to the poetry and long descriptions.

Points of view

Choosing a point of view is either completely instinctive (lucky you) or thought-out beforehand. The point of view determines how you’ll tell the story. There are many factors to consider when choosing the point of view.

Most importantly, what do you want to say? Don’t choose a character who is telling the story on hearsays. That’s boring and won’t involve as much dialogue or action.

The most common points of view are first person or third person. Third person is generally considered the easiest to use; it allows an omniscient voice to tell everything, from the outside actions to the inner feelings. It allows a knowledge that spans over great lengths of time. A story is easily told through this point of view. (Example of third person view: Avid)

First-person is drastically more limiting, but often more intimate. The story is told through the eyes of one character only, making the readers privy to their innermost thoughts. However, the character is not omniscient ―a first-person retelling should not be able to guess other characters’ thoughts or feelings. The only thing it can tell of other characters is what the story-teller can presume from actions and words that were witnessed. Often, narration and judgement will be clouded by emotions or erroneous assumptions on the character’s part. This allows for added realism, but impedes a little on story-telling. (Example: Only in Hyrule)

A good compromise is a mix of third and first person. The narration follows one or two characters and does not overstep the bounds of the selected characters’ knowledge, but is in third person. The hold on the character’s point of view is looser. (Example: Summit)

Point of view also encompasses the verb tense that will be employed for the full length of the story. There are only two narrative tenses: past and present. They cannot be mixed. Either the story is told in past tense ―“he looked over at her; she smiled”― or in present tense ―“he looks over at her; she smiles”, but not in both ― “he looked over at her; she smiles”. Choose one and stick with it.

Past tense is used for stories that are a little more old-fashioned. Actions are fixed events in time and are hardly altered.

Present tense is a more modern choice, most often used along with first-person view. Actions happen as the story is told.

P.O.V. alternations are not a bad idea, but should be equally balanced. If two characters are needed to tell the story, then alternate between both evenly. Stories where 98% of the tale are told in one P.O.V. with just 2% being told by another character make it seem gimmicky. Was it really impossible to make that 98% into a 100%? Is that 2% absolutely essential? It’s best to split it 50-50, or 33-33-33. More than three points of view is difficult to handle, but I’m not saying it’s impossible.

Don’t be afraid to challenge yourself, though. You’ll be prouder in the end.

Oneshots

Oneshots are different in length, but not a lot in structure, from other stories. In many cases, they require less setting description, but, as a result, cannot presume that the reader can make that setting up. It’s difficult to make a oneshot that is way out in the left field, because a lot of background information will be missing. That doesn’t mean it can’t be done ―only that it’s more difficult.

If the setting described is familiar to most readers, you’re fine. Start off with a short, unburdened introduction and get straight to the core of the plot. A oneshot is based on one intrigue, not multiple threads, and the intrigue must be resolved by the end of the shot. Often, oneshot conclusions will be to-the-point, sometimes unexpected, and mostly satisfying. The reader should not be left wanting more after the end of the oneshot. It shouldn’t seem as though the oneshot is the premise to something longer.

If your oneshot is a more introspective piece, in which a character reflects on something important (or unimportant ―remember: think outside the box), it’s best to keep the action and reflection balanced throughout the whole piece. You can’t have a lot of philosophy for the first half, then pure action, nor can you have pure action followed by strict philosophy. Keep them interwoven as much as possible. It keeps a single tone for the oneshot, which is what most oneshot authors seek.

A oneshot, after all, should convey “a moment in the life of…” or a general mood. It is not the appropriate instrument for an epic or complex problems.

Descriptions

Depending on everyone’s tastes, you can prefer dialogue-based stories or long, verbose pieces of vocabulary art. The general agreement, though, is that you can’t have a story without a minimal amount of description.

Description is everything that is not within quotation marks. It can be as simple as an interpolated clause like ‘he said’, or it can be pages and pages explaining the light shining on a droplet of water. To be sure, the most efficient way to please the reader and yourself is to provide a nice balance of action/description versus dialogue.

New authors tend to know that description is important, but they go about it all wrong. You may write whatever comes to mind, but descriptions need a minimum of organization. You can’t jump from the wagging dog’s tail to the beautiful trees and back to the dog’s water bowl. Think of your story like a movie. Where do you see wide-shots? What do you see in those wide-shots? A city? How does your city look? What’s the weather like? The light? Is it night? Are the people in the streets? Are they wealthy? Beggars?

And then you can move in on the character’s house and finer details. Is it rundown? A mansion? An apartment? Loud tenants? Clean? Filthy?

And so on. Don’t presume readers are inside your head. I’ve checked multiple times: they are not. They need to be guided by their little hand through this story of yours.

When the movie inside your head is doing a close-up, focus your writing on what that close-up is showing us. If an important action is occurring, don’t just mention it in passing. Talk about it. We need to know. Stick our faces in it, even, if necessary.

Dialogues can convey things, but nothing beats a good description. Say everything there is to say, and then some, unless you’re deliberately trying to hide something from readers ―and then, don’t make it obvious, because they’ll notice the hole.

Everything can use an adjective, too. Remember that.

Example: There was a silence. …can become…

1.       There was a contemplative silence.

2.       There was a stunned silence.

3.       There was an awed silence.

4.       There was an uncomfortable silence.

And so on. Do you see how a single word can change the meaning of a whole sentence? Often people don’t realise the impact one or two words can have on a phrase.

Descriptions are the way you can control the reader. With a few well-turned sentences, you can wrap their minds around your finger as easily as melted caramel. Never forget the impact a text can have on a dulled mind. Readers are at your mercy, use that to your advantage.

That means, for all that is holy, don’t remind them of your existence throughout the text. Don’t interrupt narration with your own silly comments. Be aware that it can kill the mood. What readers want is an immersive story. The only way to create this is to make them forget their own sense of judgement.

I could write a whole ten pages on this subject. The main idea is that, no matter what you’re writing about, you need the reader to be so completely immersed in your story that everything makes sense to them ―even though in real life they’d go ‘What the hell?’

There are various ways of manipulating a reader like this. To name but a few, the story should sound plausible ―more on this in the following subsection. This diminishes the reader’s sense of criticism and makes him accept whatever you feed them. So, by all means, don’t keep reminding them that a character is making an error in judgement, even though you know it’ll come back to bite them in the ass later. Don’t worry, the readers will understand in due time. Until then, you need to erase yourself behind the characters and have them behave in what seems like a normal fashion. Readers will latch on to that normalcy and start thinking everything the character does makes sense ―even if it doesn’t.

Did you really think Zelda’s behaviour in Only in Hyrule made sense all the time? I know pertinently that she made stupid assumptions and hasty judgements. But it fooled you, didn’t it? I’ll explain in the next section why your senses might have been dulled, so don’t worry about it.

Staying Plausible

Descriptions have the added task of keeping your story within the bounds of normalcy. There are rules to follow in order to keep characters (did I mention they are the most important part of fiction?) in character, so to speak. If the characters behave like real people, readers will identify with them more. Here I’ll expose a few ways of keeping your characters plausible and all the more personal.

Something happens to your character. Anything happens to your character. How will your character react? They will follow their own personality and definition, but there is still one rule that no one should stray from. The Four Stages of Grief.

The Four Stages of Grief ―Shock, Anger, Sadness, Acceptance― are well-known in the psychological and therapeutic fields. Everyone goes through them when they experience loss, shock, trauma, ―or anything at all, really― in that specific order (Shock, Anger, Sadness, then Acceptance). Everyone. So why, I ask you, should characters be exempt from this? What may vary is the amount of importance of each stage compared to the others, but I guarantee that everyone experiences those emotions.

Example: 1. When she realised he was dead, she started crying and screaming in front of the messenger; she was really sad and angry.

2. When she realised he was dead, her heart stopped and she stared, wide-eyed, at the messenger, disbelief running through her veins.

Which of the two seems most likely? I’ll let you think about it.

The second way of making characters more plausible is to study human body language. Books on the subject abound, and I assure you they’re really fun to read. You can choose to know only the basics, of course, or you can choose to know everything there is to know, but either way, having a background on the matter is very practical. Some motions are universal and express, without words ―therefore eliminating the need for dialogues or long explanations― what a person is feeling. How do you interpret a person who is crossing their arms? Crossing their legs? Scratching their neck? Their nape? Covering their nose? Covering their mouth? Reading on body language can definitely help in adding those little touches that convey more than words ever do.

While we’re on the subject of plausibility, let’s talk about anime. The influence of J-Pop culture is obvious in everything westerners do nowadays, from movies like the Matrix to our comics and mascots. It is both enriching for culture and threatening to literature, especially literature online.

Let’s get this straight, everyone. “Sweat-dropping” does not exist. Using random words of a foreign language is not appropriate either. Do you suddenly start jabbering random words in Spanish to apologize, for instance? I mean, we’d get a conversation that goes like this:

“Hey, you! Back away from there. It’s dangerous!”

“Oh, perdón, señor! I won’t do it again!”

Does this make sense to you? Are you on a quest to find your true identity? Worse yet ―the almighty love declaration, in French this time:

“I just wanted to tell you… je t’aime.”

Is this romantic? Not to me, at least. It’s even worse when the French or Spanish is badly written. That just makes me roll my eyes and click the Back button. Why should Japanese words be treated any differently?

All this is to say that it is not plausible for characters to behave like in a Japanese anime, using words like “aishiteru” and “arigatou”. They will not “fall over” or “get stars in their eyes”. These are figurative imagery conventions that everyone agrees on and understands, but they do not translate to the written word. Always remember that anime is an exaggeration of human behaviour and should not be drawn upon for believability. It may be funny to watch, but it is not funny to read. It does not draw us in.

Once you can harness plausibility, you can basically harness the reader’s judgement.

Dialogues and silences

Ah, dialogue. One of my favourite parts of writing, and sometimes the most difficult to pin down. So much can be conveyed in a spoken sentence. And so much more can be conveyed in an unspoken sentence. That is why I’ve merged the dialogues with the silences. A well-placed silence is often more telling than a long paragraph of speech.

Where to begin? Let’s start with speech patterns.

No matter where you come from, you have already been confronted to ‘that weird accent’. You know about regionalisms (Example: “Canadians always finish their sentences with ‘eh’, eh?”, “Frenchwomen always finish vowel-ending words with a hissing ‘h’ sound, pas vraihhh?” and “Americans always finish their sentences with, like, a question mark?”), and you probably heard a good couple more particularities. These things don’t have to be true, but you most likely noticed them or heard about them.

Why not use them?

Depending on your character’s background, he or she will talk differently. Can you imagine an aristocrat saying, “Yo, homie, c’m’ere, mah man!” or a beggar saying, “I think you are absolutely correct, sir”? No, because they were not educated like that. Wealth and education, as well as places of birth, can alter a person’s way of speaking. Will they have an affectation, a particular way of addressing people?

Think of Jack Sparrow. Can you honestly say you talk like he does? Does Will Turner’s speech match James Norrington’s? Elizabeth Swann’s and TiaDalma’s?

An excellent study of character speech patterns would be to read Split Infinitive’s works: Shadow Lord’s Bane or War of the Fairies are short enough and fun ―they express my point quite well in written form.

And, once you choose a speech pattern for your characters, have them stick to it. It’s not easy, I’ll hand it to you, but it’s all the more efficient in reminding you of your character’s personality.

An aspect of speech that I personally find very important but which few people tend to consider is vocabulary depending on time periods. Many words we use today have existed for less than a hundred years. A lot of them were borrowed from French. Many were born in the Roaring Twenties or during the World Wars. Certain speech patterns are specific to our age ―the eighties, the nineties and the turn of the millennium.

As such, Link should technically not be able to say, “Okay, geez, gimme a break already! And get outta my bedroom!” since ‘okay’ was born after the Second World War; ‘geez’ is a derivation of ‘Jesus’ ―therefore assumes Link knows about Jesus and Christianity; ‘gimme’ and ‘outta’ presumably did not exist in the Middle Ages; a ‘break’ probably did not have this connotation until the early 1900s; and the word ‘bedroom’ was invented by Shakespeare and did not exist prior to the Bard’s life.

Depending on how precise and historically correct you want to be ―as the Legend of Zelda is closer to fantasy than historical reconstruction― these are things that ought to be considered. Generally, though, I’d suggest staying away from Earthly religious references in all their forms and slang that has existed for less than five years or which does not appear in a respectable dictionary.

Writing a believable dialogue, once you consider the above factors, then becomes a matter of practice. It helps when you read a lot and if you try to analyse dialogues that you personally find interesting or funny. As you might notice a lot in movies, every time a character speaks, it’s an important part of the story they’re telling ―either they’re establishing character, either they’re moving the story forward. Those are the only two reasons you’d really need to have dialogue in the first place.

Stay away from banalities. The reader doesn’t really need to know things that are obvious. If a person is walking through the door, you don’t need to tell us that they first reached for the doorknob, unlocked the door, swung it open, walked through, and closed the door behind them (unless you’re going for suspense). We can guess it already. Same goes for dialogue. Of the two conversations below, which seems most efficient?

Example: 1. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m good too. So what are you doing?”

“Oh. Nothing, really.”

2. “Hey, man, how are you, and why the hell aren’t you doing anything?”

“I’m good, and it’s my right to stay inactive, alright?”

Not only does the second conversation seem less static, but it keeps the dialogue upbeat and short. Don’t try to make us feel like the chapter is longer by adding insignificant exchanges. Unless they convey something, like anxiety or awkwardness, they’re not necessary and they slow down the pace of your story considerably, to the point of becoming boring or tedious (see Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot).

Dialogues are the verbal expression of emotions. That does not mean they have to be passionate all the time. Think of how you talk and behave in any given situation. Do you always finish your sentences with an exclamation? Probably not. The power of the period is underestimated. It has a much larger range of emotions attached to it.

Example: 1. “Hey! I was looking for you! You’ll never guess what just happened! A guy ran his car over your lawn!”

2. “Hey. I was looking for you. You’ll never guess what happened. A guy ran his car over your lawn.”

3. “Hey, I was looking for you. You’ll never guess what happened… A guy ran his car over your lawn.”

So much can be conveyed through punctuation. I’ll cover this more later on, but keep in mind that we don’t always exclaim everything. The basic idea is that punctuation not only directs the delivery of a line, it also paces it. Do you want the line to be delivered quickly? Slowly? Kindly? Happily? Aggressively? Neutrally? What are the various methods you can use to affect the reader’s interpretation of the line?

An excellent way of pacing dialogue and a story altogether is to insert a few well-timed silences and pauses. They do a lot to give a mood and an atmosphere to a scene.

Example: 1. “I’m pregnant,” she said. “You’re going to be a father.”

He stared at her, stunned. He was really shocked. “What?”

2. “I’m pregnant,” she said. “You’re going to be a father.”

He stared at her, stunned. A long moment passed, during which neither of them dared to speak. Finally, he blurted, “What?”

As you can see, a silence is often a better way of expressing emotions than outright telling the reader about it. Don’t be afraid to insert silences, as long as you tell us how the pause is: long? Short? Tense? Awkward?

Aside from keeping the characters in character and pacing the dialogue, it’s important to make sure readers always know who is talking to whom. This implies that you have to keep it clear. In a situation where only two characters, one a male and one a female, are interacting, a few good ole’ “he said”, “she said” are generally enough, though you can also exchange the “he” and “she” with synonyms, to keep it interesting. Just make sure the same synonym isn’t used multiple times in the same sentence, and if possible, multiple times in the same paragraph. It might feel redundant.

If, however, two men or two women are talking, you need to resort to particular characteristics to identify which of the two is the one speaking. Don’t misestimate the importance of keeping speaker identities clear. After a few lines of dialogue-only, it can get pretty confusing. It helps to have varied speech patterns, but it’s still interesting to have call-backs.

Where do we place interpolated clauses in a dialogue anyway? The easiest way to not screw up is to place them at the end of a dialogue line.

Example: “You’re an idiot, and I’m afraid I don’t like you,” Ralph said.

Note the order of the punctuation involved in quotations.

However, putting interpolated clauses at the end of lines, all the time, can be monotonous, and in the case of longer speeches, it can come too late. Readers are too busy trying to figure out who is talking to really care about what is being said. So, another spot is to put it just before the line.

Example: Ralph said, “You’re an idiot, and I’m afraid I don’t like you.”

This makes things pretty clear.

In the event that you want more dynamism, you can choose to put the interpolated clause somewhere in the middle of the line. Here’s where it gets tricky. You can’t put a clause in just any spot, because it’ll sound unnatural, which sends us back to the “keeping plausible” part of this guide.

Example: “You’re,” Ralph said, “an idiot, and I’m afraid I don’t like you.”

The above example is just not right. An interpolated clause should always be inserted after the subject, or where you can feel a break in the sentence.

Example: 1. “You,” Ralph said, “are an idiot, and I’m afraid I don’t like you.”

2. “You’re an idiot,” Ralph said, “and I’m afraid I don’t like you.”

Whatever you try, just make sure the sentence flows properly and the dialogue feels natural.

Transitions

This is a short section, but I feel it needs to be said. When changing places or changing times, beginners tend to use cinematographic in-titles along the lines of ‘The next day…’, ‘Inside the house…’ or ‘A few minutes later…’, skip a line, then talk about the action.

Don’t do it! What’s wrong with just writing them into the text?

Example: “The next day, he woke up feeling groggy.”

So many of those in-titles are phrase complements that can be incorporated into the sentence itself using commas, and beginners don’t try it.

In many cases, actually, in-titles are not even necessary. You can jump straight into the action and give enough clues as to the time of day and place that readers will draw their own conclusions. You may be manipulating them, but don’t treat them like idiots. They don’t appreciate it.

Cliff-hangers

The bane of all readers, cliff-hangers are used by authors for one of two reasons: either they’re making the story up as they go and need time to figure out where to get to next, or they’re trying to keep readers hooked.

Make sure you’re part of category two. Category one tends to cover up its stories’ flaws using easy cheats. You’re above that, so try to limit your use of cliff-hangers for when you feel they can effectively add to the story. Otherwise, they feel gimmicky, and, like everything else, too much of something can be annoying. Remember: less is more. Don’t use cliff-hangers every single chapter. It’s not fun, and it’s not an appropriate way to keep readers hooked, since they get used to it.

Cliff-hangers are supposed to be unexpected, not a given.

I thought for a long time that cliff-hangers were the easiest thing to write, ever, but recent incursions into a couple of beginner stories taught me that they’re not. The problem isn’t major, of course. The main thing is that new authors tend to have a bad sense of timing.

Just like in movies, timing is everything to narration. A story is a series of segments of fixed time duration that have varying levels of intensity (make sure to have varying levels of intensity, or else the reader won’t be sitting on the edge of his seat). What really changes the impact of each segment is the way you tell it. A cliff-hanger needs to be inserted just as the action or emotions reach a climax. It’s a way to postpone the denouement of that particular event.

There’s no point in having cliff-hangers to issues that the reader feels aren’t important. Can you imagine a cliff-hanger just before a revelation of tonight’s menu? Probably not. Even in a comedic sense, it’s ineffective ―the reader doesn’t honestly care about tonight’s menu, unless tonight’s menu is crucial to the plot.

It’s much easier to imagine a cliff-hanger at the moment where we’re about to know if the hero’s quest was a success or a failure. The resolutions of the life-or-death, success-or-failure debates are the most powerful in a story, and most prone to make good cliffies. Once you mount the tension and anxiety, cutting it off properly is a sure-fire way to make your story into a page-turner.

Conclusions

I hate conclusions. To me, they’re the most difficult thing to write (after finding good titles). Mostly, conclusions are meant to end all open threads. If you missed something, people will call a plot hole, or keep asking questions. Conclusions are therefore as important as introductions. They complete the story, and they’re what readers will remember most, seeing as it’s the last thing they’ll be reading of your story. Bottom line: conclusions need to be good. You can have a depressing conclusion, but it still needs to be well-pulled off.

I don’t know for sure what makes the best conclusion. As a general rule, I try to make my last line into a witty line of speech or narration, one that brings the story full-circle. There are no set rules, though. You want the story to finish off with a good impression, so you need to go with what your story brought about, what issues were most important, or maybe finish off with the story’s leitmotiv if it had one.

On this, I’m sorry to say, every story must have a different ending. “And they lived happily ever after” is overused, unless you use it in a different way than it’s been used before, like in sarcasm, comedy, angst, or sadness.

As long as the conclusion fits in with the rest of the story, it should be fine.

Revising

Even though it’s the part everyone hates the most, it is just as important as the writing itself. Revising is to a story what baking is to a cake: get it right or you’ll burn. Whether it’s just a re-reading of your story or a full-fledged, deep analysis you wish to conduct, revising is so much more important than young authors seem to believe.

Spelling and Grammar

As Julie Andrews from the Sound of Music said, ‘When you know the notes to sing, you can sing most anything.’ Spelling and grammar are fundamental to the proper communication of your story. Can you imagine Tolkien trying to tell us about the Elves and Hobbits, and making mistakes every page? It would ruin his story, his world, and you’d probably come to consider him a moron. Don’t presume that the harsh judgement readers pose on great authors will soften up just because it’s “yur first storie”. It might, in fact, get harsher.

The only way to prevent readers from hating your style is to back it up with flawless spelling and grammar (note: not ‘grammer’). The best way to do this is to arm yourself with two tools: a brain and a dictionary.

The first tool is the most practical, considering it follows you around wherever you go. That means you can train it to learn words and their spelling, as well as sentences and their structure, at any moment of any day. The best source for quick learning is to read. Read books, read good authors, and refrain from reading bad authors, lest you pick up their bad habits. I started reading at age four, and before that, ever since I was born, my parents would read stories to me whenever they had the time, so that I became accustomed to pronunciation, letters, and eventually grew to know the power of words.

You can do it too. If you have a passion for writing, you probably also have its sister passion: a passion for reading. The two walk hand in hand. You cannot proclaim to wish to become a grand author without having previously read a lot of grand authors.

A brain is the only way to effectively do the following: differentiate homonyms, spell out numbers in full-letters, capitalize words, and so on.

The brain is also practical to help you decide if your writing program’s spelling corrections are appropriate or not. The program is, after all, part of a computer. And a computer calculates the most likely solution possibilities of your typos. It’s not a god, meaning it won’t read your mind and always do what you want it to do. Anticipate that your computer may be the spawn of Satan and be ready to re-read for stupid mistakes. Constantly.

The second tool is a dictionary. This tool has two functions: definitions and spelling. The first one is my favourite. Whenever you encounter a word you cannot decipher through etymology or thanks to the context, reach for the trusty dictionary. It will tell you all about that word, so that you can store it away with tool number one and remember to use it should the need arise.

The second function of the dictionary is that it can tell you how to spell things. It’s like magic.

“But, CM,” you’ll say, “I don’t feel like opening up that brick of paper every time a tiny word upsets me!”

I hear you. Neither do I. That’s why I bless the world for Internet and online dictionaries and encyclopaedias. Now you can consult all the major academies for information at no fee with the click of a button, without even getting up from your seat! It’s awesome.

How do you choose a dictionary or encyclopaedia online then? Well, first off, avoid the ones that can be edited by Joe the Friendly Neighbour. Odds are he’s making stuff up. See the Uncyclopedia, for instance. And yes, that definition includes Wikipedia, which you should only consult for general knowledge, not scientific facts. Sorry, wiki-fans, but as long as anyone can edit them, online sources are liable to be full of mistakes and bias.

The Urban Dictionary should be avoided like the plague for serious terms, unless you’re looking for a slang term that isn’t included in the Webster’s or Oxford online dictionaries (or if you’re looking to procrastinate). The dictionaries I use are Rhymezone, which offers spell check, rhymes, definitions, synonyms, antonyms, related words, and other nifty features for whichever query you enter ―and if it can’t find it, it will refer you to other dictionaries that do have the query― and WordReference, which is ideal to translate some of the terms I know in French and cannot find the word for in English.

Therefore, there is no excuse. Bookmark one or fifty reliable dictionaries and check your spelling. You can bet no reader will get in line until you do.

Punctuation

Now that’s a cute little feature right there. Punctuation, as I mentioned somewhere above, is much more than a few dots and lines. It is a form of art. It can transform a jumble of text into the most lyrical, poignant piece of literature you ever read. One that makes you cry, it’s so beautiful.

And it fooled you into thinking they were just dots and lines. Clever, isn’t it?

Let’s start with the most lovely of all punctuation marks. The apostrophe. Don’t use apostrophes, and you’re a catastrophe. Got it? The apostrophe is not only used for elision (“don’t”, “can’t”, “doesn’t” and so on), it can also be used for marking plural possessives! Yes, indeed, I hereby announce that it’s not “Marcus’s”, but actually “Marcus’ ”. With the apostrophe, no need for an extra “s”! You’re saving pixels.

Next in line is the period. I love the period. It is one of my favourite punctuation marks. It can say so many things, and it looks so classy yet simple. It’s the pinnacle of punctuation sophistication.

Use it.

The comma, on its part, is often overused, poor thing. Aren’t you afraid you’ll exhaust it? Do you, really think, that putting commas, all over the place, is the right way, to go? Probably not, huh? You’d sound like you have the hiccups.

Commas, my friends, are not meant to go just anywhere. They have their own special spots and hangouts. They’re picky little things, but they can afford it because they’re just so special. The best way to learn how to place commas is to stop putting them wherever you paused to rest your fingers while typing, and think responsibly. Re-read the sentence in your head. Just because you’d put intonation and a slight pause in the phrase doesn’t mean a comma has to go there. Think grammatically.

The colon is also overused. Unless you’re drawing direct conclusions, don’t put it in. It’s annoying for readers: especially if you don’t use it properly: they have to read sentences within sentences: it’s not pleasant.

The semi-colon is a risky little tool. It is underused, if you ask me, and its powers misunderstood. It is both a comma and a period; it can unite two sentences that are intimately related, while still keeping them divided into subject-verb-complement structures.

Now here comes the difference between the dash and the hyphen. Hyphens are used to unite words, like, for instance, “idiot-savant”. They do not have extended powers. They are also short and stout. The dash ―long and elegant, also one of my favourite punctuation marks― plays the role of parentheses. They are ultimate and allow a person to insert something within a sentence, in the eventuality that it gets too charged with commas. It’s like the narrator’s personal comment, except it doesn’t draw attention to the writer’s presence like parentheses would. It’s amazing!

As a result, parentheses should be avoided during the writing of a story, since inserting comments between dashes is far more efficient.

And now, quotation marks. There are two types of quotation marks, and depending on your place of birth, the order of priority changes. The first quotation mark is the single quote (‘blah blah blah’), whilst the second one is the double quotation mark (“blah blah blah”). Generally, I use the double quotation marks for speech, with the single quotation encased within if I need a quoted-quotation, or to use specific terms in narration.

Example: “So then,” she sobbed, “he told me he ‘needed more time’. Who even says that nowadays?”

Though it happens that the order is reversed.

Example: ‘So then,’ she sobbed, ‘he told me he “needed more time”. Who even says that nowadays?’

The best way to learn how to use punctuation is to observe it in other peoples’ writing. What can I say? Hone your ninja observation skills.

Paragraphing

In the case of paragraphing, ignore the rule that has applied to everything I ever stated above and believe me: more is better. That’s not to say you have to make every single sentence an independent paragraph, but let’s just say that when your text can breathe, so can the readers.

After all, don’t you just hate stumbling on a story that is a massive block of text, which ―should you have the courage to actually start reading it― is confusing? If you lose track of where you’re at, you have to start all over again! This is where I put my foot down and say this paragraphing void must stop.

In all likelihood, the reason people leave their texts in large clumps is that they don’t know how to space it out. They don’t know where to put in a new paragraph or why they should even bother.

There are a few key places where paragraphs ought to form, and some where they shouldn’t form.

First off, if you’re changing the subject, even slightly, from the dog’s tail to the dog’s water bowl, or if the mood of your narration changes, do a paragraph. If you want something to have an impact ―like a single sentence that needs to be emphasized― it can also become a new paragraph.

When a new person is speaking, for all that is holy, change paragraphs. A dialogue should be, consequentially, pretty spaced out.

If, however, a character speaks, then does an action, then speaks again, it should be paragraphed into one or three paragraphs, not two.

Example: 1. →“So,” he started, “here’s my idea.”

→He reached into his bag to take out a sheet of paper. “Do you have a pen?”

→His friend  nodded. “Yeah, I do. Here.” WRONG

2. →“So,” he started, “here’s my idea.” He reached into his bag to take out a sheet of paper. “Do you have a pen?”

→His friend nodded. “Yeah, I do. Here.” RIGHT

3. →“So,” he started, “here’s my idea.”

→He reached into his bag to take out a sheet of paper.

→“Do you have a pen?”

→His friend nodded. “Yeah, I do. Here.” RIGHT

As you can see, paragraphing allows the reader to keep track of who is talking. Otherwise we get the impression that, as the paragraph changes, the other character is speaking and we basically get confused. I personally suggest example 2, unless it becomes monstrous in length and needs to be segmented, as in example 3. Note the difference in pace between the three examples.

Examine the way authors that you admire do their paragraphs. Everyone has different criterions for what should constitute a new paragraph, but as a general rule, you’ll find short paragraphs are the way to go. It’s dynamic and keeps the reader interested.

The 48-Hour Secret

There is a secret to revising a text. Some argue that, because they’ve had their face stuck in the same words over and over again, they lose their ability to notice the mistakes and typos they may have made.

So often, this is the reason authors post stories online with many mistakes that could have been avoided.

My question is, why the rush? Is there a time-limit on revisions?

Before you try to act all smart-alecky, I’ll answer for you. No. There isn’t a time-limit on revisions. There is no rush to post stories.

So. What’s the secret to revising a story you’re sick of re-reading?

In case the title didn’t give it away, the answer is simple. Wait 48 hours. Let it sit on your drive and don’t check it. At all. Change your mind, focus on other things. Go for a walk, or something. See a movie. Go out with friends. Do something productive, for a change.

Two days later, return to the story. If you did your non-work properly, you’ll have forgotten a good part of it. It’ll be like reading a whole new story. The mistakes will jump out at you like grasshoppers in a frying pan.

Choosing a Proof-Reader

Of course, in the eventuality that you consider yourself hopelessly incapable of spotting mistakes in anyone’s texts, let alone your own, or if you just want a sincere opinion before posting anything online, you might want to find yourself a beta reader. These practical types can point out your mistakes in an honest and efficient fashion.

The problem is that finding good proof-readers is difficult. Some forums offer beta-reading services, but there’s no guarantee that the service offered is quality work. If anything, I suggest going for someone you know or trust, whose language skills can be relied on. If this person agrees to read and correct your work, consider yourself blessed. Proof-reading is a long and sometimes tedious task.

The reason I suggest going for someone you trust is that this person may have, one day, to break a blunt truth to you, and it’s important that you both agree on the same definition of honesty ―knowing someone beforehand helps because you know what to expect and have come to an understanding with them in some form. If your proof-reader sincerely thinks you need to rework something, it’s important to keep an open mind and talk it over to see how you could improve.

Remember, proof-readers don’t have to help you. They do it because they want to.

Posting

At long last, your story is complete and revised. It feels good, doesn’t it? But it’s not quite ready to be published yet. You want it to be attractive to the reader’s eye and look polished, right?

Here are a few tips on preparing a chapter for online publishing.

Titles

If you hadn’t thought about it beforehand, you need to find a title. Something smart and different usually gets into readers’ memories faster. Alliterations, rhymes, word games; use whichever method seems most appropriate. A title should feel almost musical and rhythmic, like an addictive song.

As a generality, try to avoid long words or long titles. I find that the longer the title is, the harder it is for readers to remember them. As I said before, it’s all part of the introduction, and first impressions are important.

By the way, using titles that everyone has seen a thousand times before is not effective in making your story unique (example: “The Legend of Zelda: Pancake of Doom” does not urge me to read, since the first part of the title is overly used).

I should not have to mention this, but your title should, in some way or other, be related to the story. A title is a part of the summary, after all, and I’ll get to that in a little while.

Also, do not obstruct your title with labels such as “R&R” or “review please”. I’ll discuss the appropriate place for labels later on.

Use of Bold and Italics

Let’s get this straight. Sometimes it’s tempting to use bold and italics to put emphasis on something or help the delivery of a certain line, but some people abuse it. Keep in mind that I’m listing these in the context of narration and dialogue.

For instance, italics applied to a whole text to indicate a dream or a flashback can impede on clarity (I have to admit reading paragraph upon paragraph of italics is really annoying to me). Sure, you illustrate that it’s a dream or a flashback, but are italics absolutely necessary? Sometimes you make it obvious in the text itself that things are dreamlike. Readers can draw their own conclusions without the aid of italics, oftentimes.

Italics are appropriate for putting emphasis on a word or two, sometimes a whole sentence, but remember that adding italics to every line of dialogue just for the heck of it destroys the effect. Less is more.

Bold and underlined fonts should be avoided during the narration. Italics do the job just as well and don’t draw the reader’s eye like a magnet, preventing them from reading the rest of the text.

I personally use bold fonts for my personal notes, to differentiate them from the rest of the text. It’s a personal choice and I find it’s efficient and looks clean, but obviously it’s not an obligation.

Author’s Notes

Author’s notes are almost inevitable. The problem many beginner authors may have is keeping them in one place.

Before I go further, I’d like to remind you that your story is an attempt to erase yourself behind your writing. Reminding the reader of your existence at every twist and turn, whenever you feel like it, kills the mood. Restrict your comments to the start and end of the chapter.

By the way, you don’t have to put numbers in your text to refer to your author’s notes. If you’ve done your job right, additional information won’t be necessary for the reader’s comprehension anyway, and they’ll handle it once they’re done reading the oneshot/chapter.

Your author’s notes are your special place. I find that few readers actually read them, so if you feel something important has to be said beforehand, go all out: use caps, use bold, underlined, italics, whatever needs to be done. The AN are your voice and don’t really count as narration, so do what you want with them. My only advice is to try to keep them tame and clean. Please. For the readers’ sake.

Warnings

Sometimes your story contains material unsuitable for all ages. That’s not unusual and it’s fine as long as you properly insert warnings. Don’t be afraid to put emphasis if you think it’s necessary. Use your judgement.

By the way, if you post fanfiction on a site called “fanfiction.net”, odds are you don’t need to specify that it’s fan fiction. We could have guessed. It’s also likely you have no need to explain that the series or whatever you’re writing fanfiction for does not belong to you. We could have guessed that too.

Therefore, let’s shed the shackles of the stupid useless warnings! From now on, warnings shall be wild and untamed! They will openly claim ownership of your texts and take for granted that you don’t own the series!

Summaries

Summaries are like intros. They are the first impression. If people don’t know how to write summaries, they probably don’t know how to write full stories, right?

Do you want to be that loser who is “sucky at summerys?” No. No, you don’t.

As with everything else, your summary needs to be to the point, attractive, and it has to incite people to think, “Wow, this sounds really awesome, let’s click”. Typically, two good summary styles exist: the direct quote and the actual summary.

The direct quote is a quotation from your story that you paste into the summary to give readers a taste of your style and subject. When direct quoting for summaries, I make a point of choosing a line that gives a clear picture of what my story’s about and that shows off my good dialogue (which are my strong points, I’m told). Because people need a guarantee that they’re going to enjoy your story. The direct quote works best for oneshots or stories with a clear, single narrative.

The actual summary is just that: a summary of your story. It’s not easy to make an effective summary, however. The formula ending with ‘or is it?’ is no longer good to attract readers for the simple reason that it is often combined with a summary too obvious to need questioning. Inexperienced authors tend to give away too much in a summary. Don’t tell anyone how it’s going to end. For one, it’ll give them the impression that it’s a story they really don’t know about, one they want to read, and secondly it’ll be much more intriguing. Try to give an idea of ‘where’, ‘who’ and a semi-‘what’ (don’t give everything away!).

Of the two following summaries for the same story, which one would be most interesting to read?

1. Link and Zelda are in love. While on a diplomatic trip, Link tells Zelda he cares. But how does she really feel? Oneshot, Zelink

2. It probably wasn’t the ideal time to tell her, but Link couldn’t help himself. Oneshot, Zelink

If you’re anything like me, you’ll say example 2 was the most interesting. It’s short, to the point, and leaves you wondering. Example one just tells us ‘hey, it’s another one of those Link-loves-Zelda stories!’ It doesn’t attract more than a glance, it’s so common. It doesn’t define character or keep us guessing.

Anyhow, stop saying you’re bad at summaries. You can be good if you don’t give away too much and select carefully the information that needs to be told.

Labels

Speaking of summaries, there are many additional things you can add to a summary to give potential readers a good idea of what they’re getting into. Here’s a list of labels you can add and ones I suggest avoiding.

·           Indication of pairing: somewhat important, especially if your story is a romance. Typically, big sites like fanfiction.net allow authors to categorize a story with its two main characters, which helps a lot, but you might still want to include pairings in your summary. (Example: Zelink, Malink, ZeldaxLink, MidnaxLink, MidnaxDarkLink, etc.) I would avoid ‘final pairing’ indicators if your story is about a love triangle. Again, you don’t want to give everything away.

·           Indication of universe: very important if your story is an alternate universe. A simple ‘AU’ or ‘crossover’ label is crucial, mostly because some readers seek those stories in particular or wish to avoid them at all costs. Adding this kind of label is a sign that you will be playing against certain canon rules, and that readers should expect nothing less.

·           Indication of rating: not essential unless your story’s content is overly violent or sexual in nature. I don’t particularly recommend putting the label “violence” or “blood” in a summary because it will be repeated in your in-story warnings, and they give a negative idea of the story from the outset.

·           Indication of status: Labels such as “complete” for multi-chaptered stories are good, but unnecessary for oneshots. Readers and authors alike also benefit from outright stating whether or not a story is “on hiatus” or “discontinued”. Readers don’t bother, and authors don’t get harassed. Everyone wins with a little honesty.

·           Claiming that it’s “your first story”: Don’t. People want to read good material, not beginner stuff. Fool them! Pretend you know what you’re doing. There’s no point in telling people that your material is not honed to perfection; either they’ll find out for themselves, either they’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. It’s pointless to try to lower their expectations, because they’ll go down much further than you want them to, and it won’t be worth it in the end.

·           Adding “R&R”: Avoid it. Seriously. At this point you should know people only read and review if they want to. No one will do you any favours. Just because you asked for it doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. More on reviews later on.

Receiving

At long last your story is posted, and now you’re all ready to receive the great feedback you deserve. This is the part where you get rewards aside from self-satisfaction. But this is perhaps your first story; you are perhaps less known around the site. You don’t receive a mountain of praise the moment you click “submit”. Why?

The Truth About Time

Le temps fait bien les choses. Time does things well. Patience and understanding are the best tools in coping with sluggish feedback. Either people haven’t noticed your story, or they simply didn’t feel it deserved a review. You oughtn’t take it as a personal attack. You’re still learning; that’s why you posted online to begin with. Odds are your story is probably too common or predictable, the dialogues overused or plausibility stretched; that’s alright. You’re learning. Everyone needs to start somewhere.

Don’t expect to become an instant celebrity. Prove yourself, stick around long enough, and before you know it, with enough work and dedication, your stories become references or fan-favourites. But to attain that, you have to keep writing, keep loving your work, and for all that is holy, be patient.

Reviews

They’re common, they’re popular, and after a while, you realise they’re not all that helpful. They make you smile, but that’s about it. Most reviews are overly excited or just tell you to ‘update’ or make comments about your characters’ behaviour. Helpful reviews are rare and should be cherished. Don’t expect that reviews will tell you how to improve. All they do is improve your site-cred, and only in large numbers.

Reviews are not the salt of the earth; the only thing that will really improve your writing quality is criticism.

Flames

You’re bound to get at least one of these sometime in your life. Often flames are criticism told without diplomacy, in the hopes of hurting the author. Before we even bother going into an incendiary rant against flames, let’s just say that if you get a flame, you either 1. deserved it or 2. didn’t meet a person’s quality standards. Either way, the conclusion you have to draw is not that ‘the flamer is stupid!’ or ‘they don’t appreciate talent!’ but actually ‘I need to work harder’. Don’t let them get to you, for heaven’s sake. Even the best authors in the world get flames. They don’t piss and moan about them.

Flames are often the sign of a flaw no one else had the guts to point out. Decipher the message; odds are they explicitly told you what you did wrong. Keep it in mind, and for all that is holy, accept it like a mature adult.

Criticism

Not all feedback is flowery and adoring. That’s good; you need the unbiased criticism to put yourself in perspective. Some people express their honest opinion and help you sort out what you did right and what needs improving. There will always be critics, and you will always need them, so be glad when you receive these.

The best way to keep track of the things pointed out is to make a list in your own words of what needs to get better. For instance, if the person pointed out that you need to stop making typos, work harder on revision in the future. I’d also suggest doing a revision of the story you posted; you can often correct it and replace the chapter without having to re-submit everything.

Do not presume that critics will bother to list out all your flaws if you have many. They probably won’t bother. Getting criticism and neutral feedback is the sign that you’re on the right track: you have many things down pat, and you can still get better.

The next part will help you sort out the appropriate behaviour for replying to each of the above types of feedback.

Marketing

Marketing is not essential. You can choose to rely on word-of-mouth, which I have both used ―to promote excellent authors― and been subject of. It’s good when things go on effortlessly, and it certainly strokes the ego. As long as there are authors, there are readers to talk about them.

But when you feel ready to use your growing fan-base to expand and make yourself known, you might want to use a little self-promotion.

Before I get into the basic techniques for self-marketing, I want to make one thing clear: you do not market yourself just so you can gloat afterwards. Your main goal is for people to read your stories and help you get better. There are good and bad ways of doing it, and if you get an ego, it will all be ruined. Stay down to earth before all. Readers don’t have to like you; you could fall as swiftly as you’ve risen. Don’t get cocky.

Defining Yourself

Any amateur marketer can tell you that before you start advertising something, you have to know about what you’re promoting. Same goes for self-promotion.

But, you might argue, I know myself. I don’t need to know myself any more.

That’s where you’re wrong. You do know yourself, but it’s what you want people to know about you that matters. Am I condoning false identities? Absolutely not.

I mean ‘what do people need to know? What do they not need to know?’ Like it or not, you are not 100% loveable. There will be many bad days, ones where even those who care for you will bluntly tell you ‘You are a jerk today’. It happens; you’re only human, after all.

But online, do you want to be perceived as someone who has bad days? Probably not. It doesn’t mean you have to lie. It just means you have to decide what kind of personality you want to project, and go about projecting that personality.

Odds are you don’t want to be seen as a grovelling, imploring, lack-of-a-backbone sort of person. You don’t want to be considered weak or foul-tempered. You want to be approachable, friendly, intelligent, and sincerely modest.

That’s why, before all, you must not get cocky. Please. That’s so 2000.

Once you know which parts of your personality you will let shine through (this is a great way to boost your self-confidence, too), you’ll be able to write everything outside of your stories, like your profile, notes, blogs, sites, journals, and all the things that your readers will be able to read about you.

I’ll explore a few easy ways to keep that positive attitude going. Mostly, people decide whether they like you as a person depending on how you answer them when they send you something.

Replying

The moment you get feedback, you have to make a choice. Do you want to reply to every single message you get? Probably not (it gets long and you don’t have time left to write actual stories after a while), but some things may require answers so you can continue to promote your inner awesomeness, as stated above.

Replying to Reviews

I generally avoid doing this. Most reviews are to the point and do not call for a reply. If you insist on the being the kind of friendly person who replies to everything, you may want to get an automated message like ‘Thank you for your review’, just to keep things concise and grateful, but remember if a person keeps reviewing all your stories, they’ll constantly get the message. It’s up to you.

I try to reply to reviews that have questions or which express uncertainty about my stories, and when I do, I do it in a friendly way. That means that, if I’m in a bad mood that day, I wait until I’ve gotten over myself so I can write a sincere and helpful answer.

If you do reply to reviews, thank the reviewer for leaving a message! They don’t have to do it, yet they did! Be glad and grateful!

Replying to PMs

Private messages are a separate category of feedback. The added bonus is that they remain between you and your correspondent. I treat them like reviews, but I make a point of always replying to private messages, as opposed to letting reviews be. Why? PMs are comments sent directly to you by someone online; they aren’t aimed at your story or your online actions. They are direct compliments which a person took the time to write up. They deserve a sincere thank-you.

Replying to Flames

Here’s where it gets touchy. Depending on your mood that day, either the flame will be shrugged off, either you’ll get all murderous about it and hack the flamer up mentally.

Normally, we tend to be option 2, but I officially declare it must all end!

Most flames are submitted anonymously, often because the flamer does not wish to be bothered with any repercussions of his words. Rather than seek him or her out relentlessly or badmouth them in your next update, let it slide like water on a duck’s back. If they have not pointed anything out and just claimed your story to be bad, then they are as useful as the average review and should be left alone.

If they have pointed something out (or stuck your face in something), keep it in mind. It must be a glaring flaw in your text! Correct it as quickly as possible! Avoid the mistake in the future!

If the flamer is a courageous type, or if they’re the smug kind, they’ll have left coordinates for you to reply. Most people would jump on the reply button and send back a remark claiming that the flamers are “complete idiots” and that they have no life or some other pointless, childish remark. You are above that behaviour; behave like a proper adult. Compose yourself. Take time to mull it over, if necessary (it often is).

And then reply with diplomacy. Use ‘I’ as opposed to ‘you’; be polite, but don’t grovel. Be dignified, not cold. Thank them for their blunt honesty. Yes, you read that right. Thank them. As quotes go, “Be polite to your enemies: it confuses them.” If they find themselves sending feedback for your next story, the flamer is most likely to tone their aggression down. It’s a victory through pacifism.

Replying to Criticism

As with all feedback, you need to be grateful that someone took the time to point out your weaknesses. You can’t cover something you don’t know about, after all.

People who lend constructive criticism are often more comfortable than flamers about leaving means of replying. I strongly encourage using those means, not to be defensive but to express gratitude. Like a beta-reader, a critic helps you improve, and you have to take it as an outstretched hand rather than sneering elitism. Do not disdain their help; they’re often the best help you’re going to get.

Critics are often willing to have a conversation with you about what parts of your story you can improve and how. They tend to be weathered in the matter of reading and reviewing. They have seen a lot and can probably give helpful suggestions or discuss ways of making your stories better. Embrace their help, and don’t forget to say thank you. A kind word will get you more help than a defensive frown.

Replying to Requests

Requests aren’t very common, but they happen. Sometimes people find that your writing style suits their ideas, and they send request for a story written by your hand following their plotline.

I personally find this practice demeaning to the author and the requester alike; the requester seems to ignore how much work goes into writing a good story and treats the author like a tool to evade actual work, casting themselves in a haze of laziness, just because they don’t want to write something on their own.

Barring my personal view on this, requests must be handled like all other forms of feedback. Politeness is important, and regardless of whether you will accept or turn down their request, be diplomatic and make sure they understand what they’re asking of you. Do not give them lessons, but I suggest encouraging them to write the story themselves (unless you openly stated that you’re taking requests). It teaches them how much work is involved in writing and shows them how many doors are opened when you do something yourself.

And don’t forget to say thank you for the requester’s faith in your abilities, regardless of your answer!

Fan-Service

Fan-service is a double-edged sword. It boosts your popularity and makes you appreciated, but it’s a tricky tool. It can turn against you, diminish your writing quality or make you take on challenges for which you’re simply not ready.

Fan-service ranges from accepting requests to making fan art and everything in between. Letting fans get to your head is the best way to completely lose it, though. Always keep a certain distance from your fans and do not accept pleas for more unless you fully intend to give more.

In time you’ll realize how tricky resisting fans can be, and it’s likely that you’ll stumble. Don’t worry, though. Trying to please people isn’t catastrophic for them; it’ll only make you tougher on yourself. That’s not automatically a bad thing. It’s just a weight you might have trouble dealing with. Never forget that a careful balance between personal leisure and fan service is the best way to stay successful and effectively enjoy it.

What’s Hot and What’s Not

I’ll make a non-exhaustive list of the things you could keep in mind when building your online reputation. Most of them are pure common sense, but I think stating them outright could be helpful to keep track.

Do Not…

·           Give out personal information ―name, detailed physical description, precise address, phone number, or/etc.― on public sites. It’s common sense: there are freaks, even online.

·           Fake modesty. We can tell.

·           Gloat. Unless you’re being comical, it’s immature and makes us blink in confusion or smirk in derision.

·           Grovel. It’s unattractive and it casts you as having little better to do than fawn over others. Grow a backbone and stand tall.

·           Spam people’s inboxes/forums/other online public domains with links to your stories. Seriously. It’s annoying. If they don’t want to read it, they won’t. You can’t force them to, and you shouldn’t.

·           Act all defensive! It’s not like they know where you live and will knock down your door just because they think you can improve!

·           Expect everyone to be as nice to you as you are to them (that also implies you shouldn’t sour up and tell them to piss off).

Do…

·           Say thank you, even if people merely point out the obvious. They will augment your site credentials. And besides, being nice makes you feel good about your karma, if you believe in such things.

·           Remain friendly at all times, even if you don’t feel like it and your goldfish just died (my condolences).

·           Keep an eye out for information, even the most trivial information, on all subjects. It could come in handy in the future.

·           Have a kind word and an honest critique ready for newcomers. They might return the favour one day. Do not disdain them—you could be part of them…

·           Strive to improve constantly. How else will you be appreciated?

·           Use proper spelling and grammar at all times (even in your profile, summaries, replies, etc.). Spelling is a reflection of your quality, and it’s far more professional looking than chat speak. Never mind the fact that it’s good practice. And anyway, it’s totally hot.

·           Keep writing stuff you enjoy! The only way to get recognition is to practice, post, and keep going. Don’t sit on your laurels; they dry up quickly. And that way you’ll improve much faster than if you’d just waited for outside feedback.

Conclusion

And that’s all I have to say about that. There are still many things for me to learn, and so this guide may feel incomplete. There are times I skimmed over things that matter very much to me, but I feel dwelling on them any further may be a turn-off.

The more I wrote this guide, the more I realized how many things I have learned since I started out in sixth grade, and how many things I’ve slowly grown to take for granted. I am truly my harshest critique, and I make a point of working very hard on everything I write. It is my sincere hope that this gathering of thoughts will have been helpful, to some extent, to you.

To me writing is much more than just a hobby. I am seriously considering a career in which I could have the opportunity of writing , translating or correcting texts. Writing has helped me through heartaches and has kept track of extremely good moments in my life.

Writing can be done with a piece of paper and a single pen: it is the simplest and most evocative of arts. Words come naturally to the author like music comes naturally to composers. Writing is a silent, efficient therapy. It can make people laugh or cry, can upset or soothe. Words are tools like you wouldn’t believe.

I can only hope that you realize how powerful words can be, and that you will seek to use them in a way that does them justice.

Don’t drift, drive: write what you want to read.