The age-old debate…to wear pants, or not to wear pants? Oh, that’s not the debate…? Maybe it’s…to outline or not to outline (but that just sounds SO much less curious.) What is a pantster? A writer who scripts stories by the seat of their pants without any clear thought as to what’s going to happen from scene to scene. They don’t outline. Like, at ALL. HOW in the WORLD do they do that? I couldn’t write a WORD if I didn’t have a clear, chapter by chapter outline mapped out in
I didn’t think this was an issue, but after reading so many books, both by published authors and author-hopefuls, I realize it’s not only an issue, it has become an ACCEPTABLE NORM, which I think is very, very sad. This is so important to me that I actually stopped in the middle of editing The Foes Between Us, first book in The Last Wizard series, to write this post. The scene I was editing actually sparked this thought. So what do I speak of when I say “common sense” in writ
What is a story rule? It is that rule which you create in your character and/or plot that is never to be broken. Example: RULE - a man wears a mask because no one is allowed to see his face. SO WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? – it means he always wears a mask. Because no one is allowed to see his face. No exception. I just recently finished reading A Map Of Bones by James Rollins (great book) but there was a “story rule” in that book James Rollins created which he then broke, whether be
BELOW EXCERPT PULLED FROM BOOK 4 OF THE LOST GODS BY J.M. ROBISON: Talon stretched. They’d been discussing with their heads down for an hour. Rubbing both eyes and smacking his lips still greasy from the hot meal, he stood. “Gotta empty the bowels,” he said, patting his stomach, and weaved among the patrons in the room who filled up every chair and table, several of them hooded, keeping their heads down. Sciath scrapped a fingernail into the wood. Clothes finally dried, his e
Download A Thousand Hearts free on smashwords. Read a sample from the book below: It splattered on the back of his neck in a coil of shivers sliding down his skin. Drip. Drip. Drip. It slithered into his shirt; a snaking river of soulless hunger, chomping at his flesh to feed their endless bellies.
He couldn’t fathom why hostages fought to remove blind folds in all the stories he heard. He would count it a small mercy for him to shut his eyes against all the mechanical teet
I’m editing an old favorite story of mine – THE LOST GODS (16 years in the making. It’s gone through about 3 massive overhauls already.) I’m just about ready to send it off to beta readers after this last edit. A quick backstory before I continue: I have a character, Mianda, who’s half-human, half-barbarian. Her barbarian mother ran off with a human, got married, lived in hiding in the woods, gave birth to Mianda, died in childbirth, and the father was chased down by barbaria