From Michael Hauge’s list of Writing Misdemeanors:

“JOHN, DON’T DO THIS: In real life, people rarely address each other by name – particularly when they’re alone together.  So unless your character is searching for someone, shouting at someone, calling on someone in class, addressing only one person in a group, or being introduced to someone, avoid having your characters address each other by name.  And above all, avoid any temptation to add full-name dialogue to your love story, as in (gag, puke), “I think I love you, Edgar Cuddlebuns.”  I know you want your audience to learn the characters’ names, but you’ll just have to find a more natural, logical way to reveal them.”

 

 

So I read this book that had a character the same age as my 7-year-old daughter. This character vacillated between doing things that my child would have done at the age of 3 and things my child probably won’t do until she is 14. And you know what? This drove me nuts. I know I am a trees person and I get my knickers in a knot over details many people probably wouldn’t see, but this one in particular drives me crazy. If you want to write about characters of a certain age, you HAVE to have a beta reader who is or knows that age. So, if you are 40 and you’re writing about 14-year-olds, yes you need to get betas of that age (or, at the very least, betas who are parents or teachers of kids that age) and if you are 14 and you are writing about 40-year-olds, you also need to do the same thing. Don’t assume you know how a 6-year-old acts if you’ve never been around one (it does not count if you were one 20 years ago!) and don’t assume that you understand the motivation of a parent if you haven’t been one either.

I’ve said it before but I will say it again: making mistakes like this weakens the strength of your narrator and thus of you, the author and once you lose that trust, you can’t get it back.

A lot of my posts seem to start with the words, “So I read this book…” and this one is no different. For the book in question, when I first started to read it, my initial reaction was, What the H? There was a character talking about stuff but there was no goal, no conflict, no nothing but, well, stuff. It felt like something had to happen but it took until 1/3rd of the way through the book before a goal (and plot) became apparent.

I started to think about why it took so long to get to the goal and it finally came to me: the goal was a secret. The author set up the story so that the initial hook for readers was in finding out what the goal was. The problem, of course, is that the only reason I didn’t stop at around the 10% mark was because I’d been PROMISED that this book was FABULOUS.

So what does this mean? It means that you might be able to get away with things like not having a plot or goal for 1/3 of your book if it is so fabulous that word of mouth will force people to stick it out, but in my opinion, you are going to have a much harder time getting to that point.

I have seen a lot of confusion over the difference between the inciting incident and the first plot point. To me, it is simple:

The inciting incident is the event that changes status quo for the main character. For example, Anne finds her dog dead.

The first plot point is the point at which the main character decides to pursue his/her goal. For example, Anne decides she must find the asshole who ran over her dog with a milk truck.

These two things cannot happen at the same time. The main character needs some time to adjust to the event, question its meaning and convince herself/himself to take the journey. Without this struggle, the goal will not be perceived as difficult for the character, both outwardly and inwardly, and if it’s not difficult, the reader will have no reason to want to hop on to the journey.

Mud?