How-to

  • How to respond to structural edits

    No matter how experienced you are, receiving feedback on your fiction manuscript can be a lot. Here are some tips on how to respond to structural edits without spiralling.

    Recently on Instagram I posted some ideas of what to do – and what not to do – while your manuscript is being edited. (Check it out here if you missed it!)

    But what about when you finally get your edits back? It can be both invigorating and intimidating to see so many suggestions for your story – like a choose-your-own-adventure with endless possibilities.

    I’m always conscious of leaving the decisions for how to move forward in the author’s hands, which means I offer lots of ideas to springboard the author’s own brainstorming.

    I’m also conscious that this much detail and decision-making can be daunting to face on the other end. That’s why I offer a follow-up Zoom call after every edit, to help authors talk through the feedback and get a sense-check on their plan for moving forward.

    But, ultimately, it all comes down to you and your story. If you’ve ever wondered how to respond to a structural edit without spiralling, here’s my advice on where to start.

    Take a minute

    I just want to acknowledge that you will likely feel a range of emotions on receiving your editorial report, from excitement to dread. It’s natural to want to dive straight in, but I strongly recommend taking it slow. Read through the comments, then let it marinate for a day or two, even a week. Go for long walks, sleep on it. Try to absorb with an open mind, not ruling anything in or out. This allows your subconscious to make sense of the feedback and start to generate ideas. 

    Define and refine

    When you’re ready to get stuck in, it might help to organise the feedback into four broad categories. Are there any suggestions that feel like a lightbulb moment? Often there’s a few big-picture comments that fall into place with a satisfying thunk – Yes, that’s what the problem was! I know exactly how to fix that. This is a good place to start your edits. Next, note the suggestions that are intriguing or exciting. Are any ideas coming up for you? Do you need more time to consider them? What suggestions do you want to explore first? If anything is a hard no, feel free to jot that down too, along with some notes about what you will do instead if any change is needed. It’s totally fine to disregard suggestions – you know your story best. Finally, make sure you consciously note the positive feedback. Even the most sensitive editing can be confronting at first and it never hurts to be reminded that you’re doing good work!

    Start with characters

    If you’re not sure where to begin, I always recommend starting with characters, because the best stories are character driven. Once you’ve dug deeper into who your character is and how they need to have changed by the final page, you can use this intel to help you refine the plot. Map the key plot points and weigh up whether or not the events of the story are still relevant in the context of your protagonist’s updated world-view and arc, or if they could be replaced or revised to more powerfully illustrate the character journey.

    Hold the line

    I love the advice to work on one story strand at a time. Even small changes can have a domino effect, so whether you’re tackling a character arc or a subplot or a structural element like the placement of flashbacks, focus on that one thread from beginning to end to ensure you’ve considered the big picture.

    Try without buy-in

    Remember, you don’t have to commit to your changes; you can play around with edits and scrap them if they don’t work. This is something that keeps me up at night as an editor – does the author know that my suggestions are literally just that? For instance, if I’ve recommended changing a scene to a different character’s point of view, or opening a chapter at a later point, it’s simply encouragement to try it out. If it doesn’t work or feel good for you, forget about it!

    Stay motivated with small wins

    If you get frustrated or fatigued along the way, treat yourself to an easy fix. Maybe you need to change some character names so they don’t sound too similar; maybe it’s a matter of removing a few of your crutch words or making a list of alternatives; perhaps you can fix some small inconsistencies around character appearance or timeline. You’re still making progress while you’re background processing the big stuff.

    Congratulate yourself

    Above all, take a moment to be proud of yourself. Writing a whole dang novel is one of the most complex things you can do with your brain! You’ve already passed the first and hardest hurdle, which is getting the story down on paper. Anything you do from here is going to make it even better. You are amazing, I am in awe of you, and you have my permission to indulge in as many little treats as you need to get through your edits.

    Authors, if you’re in the writing weeds and feel like you’re ready for some structural feedback on your WIP, I’d love to help. Drop me a line to see if we’re a good editorial fit.

  • Breaking up is hard to do

    What you need to know about writing a romance with no third-act breakup

    One of the hills I’m prepared to die on as an editor is that a good love story needs a bad breakup. Specifically, a third-act breakup.

    Once upon a time that wouldn’t have been a particularly controversial statement, but increasingly, romance readers are rebelling against the idea of a last-minute breakup for the characters they’ve just spent an almost an entire book shipping.

    I get it – life is tough enough without fictional worlds ripping our hearts to shreds too. All they want is the guaranteed happy ever after they’ve been promised without the turmoil of getting there.

    Unfortunately though, the turmoil is the whole point – we read to see how two flawed, messy people navigate their specific challenges within themselves and each other to earn the reward of true love. That happy ever after is all the sweeter for the heartache before it.

    It’s a simple matter of narrative structure, and it doesn’t just apply to romances. This late-stage conflict beat is embedded in just about every story you’ve ever read. For example, in a crime novel, it might be the moment the bad guy slips through the detective’s fingers. In a fantasy/adventure novel, you’ll often see the hero fail in an important battle or test.

    In romance, a third-act breakup is what creates the climax (no, not that one) because the relationship is what forms the central plot, and a breakup is the ultimate pressure test for a relationship.

    But, that’s not to say you can’t skip the third-act breakup. You can – as long as you don’t skip the conflict.

    If you don’t want to challenge your characters with a classic parting of ways, you’re going to need to find another way to push them so your story doesn’t fizzle. Here are some ideas – and some reading recommendations to check out (note: very mild spoilers ahead):

    Instead of a break-up moment, try a growth moment

    Romances tend to be all about internal conflict – the flawed beliefs and experiences that are holding them back from accepting true love. This is often what is driving the third-act breakup: they’re still acting out of those old limiting beliefs, and the relationship can’t truly get off the ground until the characters address their internal wounds. If you don’t want to actually break your characters up, consider taking them to the brink. Bring the conflict to a point where they have to choose between the person they used to be and the one they know they can be in the relationship – then show them making an emotionally healthy choice.

    Read: An Academic Affair by Jodi McAlister

    Swap the third-act breakup for third-act brakes

    So you’ve brought your lovers together and everyone is thrilled with the development. But maybe things are moving too fast… Show your one or both of your characters stalling as they process the development. What are their fears and how would each protagonist’s actions inflame them? Your love interests might hit the brakes while they evaluate their feelings, keeping the tension on a slow simmer until a grand gesture gets the romance boiling hot again.

    Read: And Now, Back to You by BK Borison

    Use external conflict to force them apart

    This works best in a hybrid romance like romystery, romantasy or paranormal romance where the events of the plot can feasibly threaten the relationship. For example, one of your romantic leads might be kidnapped, injured or forced to leave. I give this workaround bonus points if the event triggers an emotional regret or wound too – for instance, they never found the courage to tell the other person how they really feel and now they fear it’s too late, or they haven’t quite resolved their self-doubt and the crisis shows them how wrong they’ve been.

    Read: Firedawn Gate by SK Stapar

    Go for a slooooow burn

    One way to avoid a third-act breakup is to avoid bringing your characters together until the very end. Usually in a romance we see the characters come together, if only briefly, around the halfway mark. In a slow burn, you can delay that high point till the end, keeping us in the will-they-or-won’t-they zone for longer. But take care to ensure there’s enough obstacles and romantic tension throughout the second act to keep readers invested in the payoff, because ‘slow burn’ can too often translate to ‘snooze button’.

    Read: Persuasion by Jane Austen

    Honestly, pulling off the no-third-act breakup well is a challenge, even for the most experienced writers, so proceed with caution. There’s a risk that by avoiding conflict you drain the critical third act of interest, and the ending fizzles.

    But if you’re aware of the conflict that’s necessary in the last third of the story and have a plan to make up for the breakup, you’ll be ahead of the pack. 

    If you’d like feedback on your story’s narrative arc, get in touch to talk about a manuscript assessment or structural edit. 

  • How to make your dialogue shine

    Give your fictional conversations a glow-up with these tips for talking on the page.

    We talk to other humans all day, every day, so why is it so hard to write realistic conversations between fictional people?

    Probably because effective written dialogue has very little in common with the kind of chats we have in the real world.

    In real life, we make polite small talk, fail to finish our sentences, go on meandering side quests, stumble and stutter and um and ah. It’s how we make each other feel comfortable, but if you tried to replicate it on the page it would be so tedious your reader would very quickly find something (anything) else to do.

    Instead, you want to aim for a glazed version of the real thing, like a hamburger that’s been artfully anointed with hairspray to look mouthwatering in an advertising campaign.

    If you’re struggling to write great banter or get your characters’ convos flowing, start with these tips.

    Eavesdrop on strangers

    This is less about what people are saying and more about how they say it. Listen to the rhythms in people’s speech and the way they dance back and forth with each other. We tend to use shorter words over longer ones, punchier sentences over lengthy, complex phrases. But don’t get too caught up in replicating those choppy rhythms – you need some variety in there too. It’s all about balance. Remember, you’re aiming for real-ish!

    Do use contractions

    I beg you! If you’re writing contemporary fiction, load up your apostrophe splatter gun and keep your finger on the trigger. ‘I’m’ rather than ‘I am’; ‘it’s’ instead of ‘it is’; ‘can’t rather than cannot’ – and so on. Your characters will instantly sound so much more authentic. And when you do want to use the full word for a moment of emphasis, the contrast will mean it lands with the right amount of gravitas.

    Read it aloud

    As a journalist, I was taught to prioritise phone interviews over email questionnaires for the simple reason that people tend to sound like robots when they write things down. If your dialogue isn’t sparking joy, it might be that your writing voice is defaulting to formal settings. You won’t know it till you hear it, so raise your voice and loosen up.

    If you’re dropping words like ‘whilst’ or ‘therefore’, it’s easy to hear where formality has taken the reins. But it can also fly under the radar with something as small as a conjunction. One of my personal bugbears is the use of ‘as’ in place of ‘because’. I find it can drain the life from dialogue, instantly lending it an oddly formal feel:

    • ‘I couldn’t make it today as I got held up at work.’
      ‘I hate gerberas as they remind me of hospitals.’

    If you read those sentences out loud you’ll hear just how stilted and unnatural ‘as’ sounds in this context. But replace that ‘as’ with ‘because’, or maybe even a dash, and it’ll sound much more alive.

    • ‘I couldn’t make it today – I got held up at work.’
      ‘I hate gerberas because they remind me of hospitals.’

    It’s a small change, but effective!

    Give it purpose

    Dialogue does a lot of heavy lifting in storytelling. It’s action, bringing characters together to do something, learn something, make a decision or feel their feelings. It also reveals the characters’ intentions, secrets, fears and hopes. For that reason, every line has to work hard.

    When you’re writing dialogue, think about the purpose of the conversation. How is it moving the story forward? What do you want the characters to discover or decide? What dialogue shows your purpose effectively, and what might be diluting your purpose? For example, you don’t need the filler that we rely on in real conversations – hi, how are you, how was your day. Take us directly to the main course: ‘Where were you?’

    Consider the subtext, too. Often, what characters don’t say is what gives a scene an undercurrent of tension. Rather than tell us exactly what your character is thinking in the dialogue, can you show a disconnect between what they’re saying and what they’re feeling? Perhaps one of your characters is putting on a brave face while screaming inside, or they’re trying to remain calm in a stressful situation. The contrast between their dialogue and their inner narrative creates instant drama.

    Avoid name-dropping

    A surefire way to overcook your dialogue is to throw in lots of names. Like this:

    • ‘Look, Anna, it’s not about you, it’s just the way it turned out.’
    • ‘Is that so, Chloe? Because last time I checked, I was still the boss of this company.’
    • ‘Oh, get off your high horse, Anna!’

    In real life, we rarely address people by name, so overdoing it in fictional dialogue can be distracting or give an unintended patronising edge. If you’re aiming for sarcasm, however, a well-timed name-drop might be perfect. Just use this technique sparingly.

    Ground it in movement

    Dialogue with too many speech tags can start to feel like a game of tennis: 

    • ‘What’s going on?’ I asked. 
    • ‘We’re heading to the stakeout,’ he whispered. 
    • ‘Well, I’m coming,’ I said.
    • ‘Fine. Just don’t hold us up,’ he replied.

    Your first thought might be to pull out most of the speaker attributions and let the dialogue roll merrily on. But that can leave dialogue sounding weirdly disembodied. A nice solution is to add a bit of movement and interiority. Use a mix of physical action beats and interior narration to anchor the characters in the setting and layer up emotion.

    • ‘What’s going on?’ I asked.  
    • John glanced over his shoulder. ‘We’re heading to the stakeout,’ he whispered.
    • My stomach lurched. There was no hiding now, only damage control. ‘Well, I’m coming.’
    • He paused, eyes narrowed, considering. ‘Fine. Just don’t hold us up.’

    Ditch maid-and-butler dialogue

    This is the fancy name for the kind of dialogue that repeats what characters already know for the benefit of the reader. It’s another form of info-dumping and is best avoided:

    • ‘As you know, I moved to Sydney ten years ago from a small town in the outback.’
    • ‘You know how Cheryl was the one to catch John with his hands in the till?’

    If you’re using dialogue to catch the reader up on backstory, see if you can find a more compelling way of sharing the information.

    • ‘It’s funny – Sydney still doesn’t feel like home, even after ten years. I guess you can’t really ever shake the outback out of someone.’
    • ‘John’s getting out of prison on Monday. Do you think anyone’s warned Cheryl? I reckon he’s out for revenge.’

    Consider character background

    The most important note I can give you is to consider characterisation. From your POV characters to your supporting cast, each person should have their own voice. How would their upbringing, their background, their age and their personality affect their word choice, syntax and rhythm? When you nail this, your readers will know who’s talking without you even having to tell them. And that’s when you’ve nailed the craft of dialogue.

    If you’d like more help with your dialogue, get in touch for a free sample edit of your project. 

    Ready to learn how to punctuate dialogue? Head here.

  • Tips for using expletives in fiction

    Do you use expletives in your fiction writing? Here are some pointers to keep in mind when you’re dropping those swear bombs.

    I’m here for expletives in writing – a well-timed F bomb or a creative obscenity can inject tension, humour and relatability into dialogue and inner narratives. But like anything, too much can ruin the effect. Here are some pointers to keep in mind when you’re writing expletives into your fiction. 

    Don’t overdo it

    The first rule of expletives is: the more you use them, the less impact they have. Most readers won’t notice if your characters don’t swear, but they will notice (and might be put off) if they’re total potty mouths. Try to hold back and drop in those swear words only when they’re really need to enhance a dramatic moment or reveal character.

    Remember, dialogue isn’t supposed to be a perfectly accurate portrayal of real speech; it just gives the impression of real speech, but is usually far more concise, clear and engaging. So even though you might throw around a lot of casual swear words in your everyday conversations with friends, the same sort of carefree cursing might not translate authentically on the page.

    For inspiration on how to write tension without profanities, check out Lee Child’s work – although he writes gritty action thrillers, he famously doesn’t use any graphic language.

    They’re not a shortcut to character

    It’s a common trap to stuff sentences with expletives (effing, damn etc) in an effort to create a tough character or a distinctly masculine voice, especially if you’re not used to writing these types of characters. Problem is, not only is this tiring on the ear, it doesn’t really tell us much about who this character is. 

    Instead, spend some time getting to know your character, thinking about their influences and background to inform the speech patterns and delivery styles that would make sense for them. For instance, a softly spoken threat or insult can be far more powerful than an angry ‘eff off’.

    Use it when it’s least expected

    Contrast is a great way to capture your readers’ attention. Do you have a prim character who always does the right thing? Someone who blushes or bristles at the slightest hint of a four-letter word? Let them drop a spicy swear bomb in a pressurised moment and enjoy the shockwaves.

    Be creative

    A creative swearer is far more interesting and enjoyable to read than a regular curser. Leaning into more unexpected profanities can inject humour into a scene and tell us a lot about your character.

    Take inspiration from Shakespeare, the master of foul-mouthed rants and insults, like this one from Henry IV: “Thou clay-brained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou whoreson obscene greasy tallow-catch!”

    Ouch, right?!

    Or follow Douglas Adams’ lead and reassign meaning to an unlikely word for laughs. In The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, ‘Belgium’ is considered the most offensive word in the universe.

    When not to use expletives

    Expletives won’t be right for all kinds of books. For instance, if you’re writing middle grade or young adult fiction, it might not be appropriate to use swearing so you’ll need to find another way to allow your characters to let off verbal steam. 

    I’ve also heard that it’s best to avoid swearing in the opening pages of your novel, lest you put off readers sampling the first chapter. The theory goes that they might overlook some casual cursing once the story gets going and they’re familiar with the characters, but can be offended if they see it straight off the bat.

    I’m not a fan of prescriptive rules like these – and you’ll find plenty of fantastic books that break them – but it can be worth bearing in mind and considering whether all of your expletives really need to be on the page or if you can find a better way to get your character’s point across. Are you using expletives to ramp up intensity, and would an action beat or tighter dialogue do a more effective job?

    Finally, it has to make sense for your voice too. If it doesn’t feel good for you to use swear words in your fiction, it won’t work on the page, so don’t feel that you have to include them just to make a character sound authentic.

    Want help fine-tuning your writing and feedback on your use of profanities? Contact me about line and copyediting for your novel.

  • Everything you need to know about semicolons

    If you’re confused about how to use semicolons correctly, I’ve got all the advice you need (and it’s not nearly as tricky as you might expect).

    In editing news just in (loosely speaking), research has revealed that semicolons are slowly exiting stage (page?) left. The controversial punctuation mark’s usage has declined more than 50 per cent in British books in the last two decades.

    I don’t have figures for Australian books but I would not be shocked if the semicolon’s decline was just as stark here.

    And honestly, I don’t blame writers for giving it a hard pass. It’s a confusing piece of punctuation – and entirely optional to boot. Why bother trying to figure out how to use semicolons correctly when you can opt for a dash?

    I’ve certainly been there.

    I don’t recall ever being taught how to use semicolons correctly in school and I avoided this punctuation mark like the plague when I became a staff writer in magazine land. But, as an editor I couldn’t ignore it, and now I’ve come to love it. Truly!

    These days I think it would be a shame to lose the semicolon. It’s quite an elegant bit of grammar and I promise you will feel like you’ve unlocked a new level of language when you understand how it works.

    Even better: it’s not nearly as tricky as it seems.

    What to know about semicolons

    A semicolon is the punctuation mark that stacks a full stop over a comma, like this: ;

    It has only two uses. (Or three, if you include its use as a winky face emoticon ; )

    The first is one you’re probably already familiar with: to clarify a complicated list. A semicolon separates items in a list when the items are phrases that are already punctuated by commas. For example:

    • I’m going to the shops to buy milk, bread and chocolate; balloons, streamers and flowers for the party; and a little treat for afternoon tea.

    The second use for a semicolon is the one that tends to trip us up. It’s used to connect two independent clauses. The semicolon is a gentle nudge to the reader that there is a close relationship between them, stronger than a full stop would indicate. Like this: 

    • I love punctuation; learning to use the semicolon was life-changing for me.
    •  
    • She slept soundly through the storm; the strong winds and loud thunder didn’t bother her.

    The independent part of that definition is vital; the clauses must be able to stand on their own. If you use a comma instead of a semicolon, you have created a comma splice, which is a type of run-on sentence that grammar nerds love to hate.

    Here are some examples:

    • Incorrect (comma splice): He burst through the window, the shattered glass cut his hands.
    • Correct: He burst through the window; the shattered glass cut his hands.
    •  
    • Incorrect (comma splice): You don’t owe me an apology, I was out of line.
    • Correct: You don’t owe me an apology; I was out of line.

    The truth is you can get away with a comma splice here and there in informal writing, especially fiction (and especially if you’re doing it on purpose – know the rules to break the rules, etcetera).

    When not to use a semicolon

    A common misconception seems to be that the semicolon can be used in place of a comma whenever you want to indicate a dramatic pause. For instance, you might be tempted to write something like:

    • The river stretched before him, wide and silver; beckoning him across the expanse.

    While it might feel poetic, it’s technically incorrect because the text after the semicolon is a dependent clause. Rather than the semicolon in the example above, a comma will do nicely.

    Another common mistake is using a semicolon in place of a colon, especially when introducing a list. 

    • Incorrect: She planned to travel to several cities; Paris, France; Sydney, Australia; New York, USA; and Berlin, Germany.
    • Correct: She planned to travel to several cities: Paris, France; Sydney, Australia; New York, USA; and Berlin, Germany.

    And just to throw the cat among the punctuation pigeons, one notable exception to semicolon rule is when the clauses are short and similar in form. In this case, comma splice away. William Strunk Jr. and E.B. White, authors of The Elements of Style, will allow it. For example:

    • Here today, gone tomorrow.
    • It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

    You’ll likely recognise the latter example as a shortened version of the opening line of A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens, who was a famous semicolon fan. Go figure.

    More semicolon dos and don’ts

    Do use semicolons with conjunction adverbs such as however, moreover or consequently.

    • He wanted to go to bed; however, the party was raging on. 

    Some people will argue that you shouldn’t use a semicolon before coordinating conjunctions such as but, and, or, so, for, nor and yet. 

    It’s true that the semicolon replaces conjunctions when joining two independent clauses. But, it’s not an all-or-nothing scenario. When a conjunction is used after a semicolon, it indicates greater contrast or emphasis. For example:  

    • The professor argued that English literature students should always focus on the classics; yet contemporary fiction has its place in the academic world too.

    What about capitalisation? If the semicolon is joining two complete sentences, shouldn’t the sentence after the semicolon start with a capital letter? 

    No. The semicolon doesn’t enjoy the full powers of a full stop, so the second sentence doesn’t need to begin with a capital letter unless it’s a proper noun.

    Summing up

    Whenever you feel compelled to drop a semicolon, double and triple check that the words on either side are complete sentences.

    Ask yourself, can I use a full stop here instead? If you can, you’re on the right track.

    Honestly, learning how to use semicolons correctly takes a bit of time and patience, but it’s so rewarding once you’re friends.

    In one of my favourite books on punctuation, Eats, Shoots & Leaves, author Lynne Truss writes: ‘The semicolon has rightly been called “a compliment from the writer to the reader”.’

    I love this idea – it acknowledges the nuance of the semicolon, which gently asks the reader to notice the connection the author is drawing between ideas and to hear the subtle distinction in rhythm and tone.

    What a joy to be able to do so much with a single mark.

    Want help with your punctuation bugbears? Get in touch to talk about a copyedit for your work.

  • How to write great chapter and scene openers

    Chapter and scene openers matter just as much as the closing lines. Here’s some tips for crafting strong scenes from the very top.

    If you want to keep your readers hooked at the end of a chapter so they’re up all night reading your book, you know what to do: drop a clue, drop the mic, or drop a cliffhanger they can’t resist.

    But what about the next page? How do you harness that momentum and intrigue at the top of the next chapter or scene?

    Chapter and scene openers need to work just as hard to keep your readers invested, and when you put thought and care into them, they will lure your readers through your story.

    Here are a few tips for crafting strong scenes from the very top.

    Consider its purpose

    Just as your novel has a beginning, middle and end, so should your scenes. They need to move your story forward, and to do that they need a purpose.

    When you’re writing or reviewing a scene, think about its overall purpose in the story. Is it setting up a conversation that will reveal an important clue? Perhaps it’s pushing a couple to a make-or-break point. Or it could be about putting a character under stress or moving them closer to their goal. Pinpointing what the scene needs to do can give you ideas about the most impactful place for it to begin.

    In Chapter 20 of Love, Just In by Natalie Murray, a scene in which the protagonist Josie confronts her health anxiety with a doctor for the first time opens with this line:

    • Doctor Ellison is running nearly an hour behind, leaving me plenty of time to read and reread the cancer awareness posters taped to the wall until my palms are slick and my mouth has dried to a desert.

    In this scene, the consult with the doctor is what moves the story forward, so Murray doesn’t spend too long building up Josie’s anxiety beforehand.

    Instead, she opens in the moment just before the appointment begins and shows us how Josie is feeling in one carefully crafted sentence. The next line shows her name being called, and we’re straight into the scene with the doctor.

    Cut mundane detail

    It’s easy to do because we live it, but chapter and scene openers that describe mundane activities (waking up and brushing teeth, washing dishes, having a polite chat) or an info dump (lots of backstory), or a routine journey can slow the pace and give your reader an excuse to tap out.

    The beauty of writing a book is that scene and chapter breaks can cut the chaff for you – there’s no need to show a character going from A to B or making small talk about the weather when you can open a scene or chapter with drama.

    Try cutting the stage directions and opening in medias res – the middle of the action – whether that’s a tense conversation or a chase down the street or a devastating reveal.

    Here’s an example from Chapter 24 of Not Here to Make Friends by Jodi McAlister (Murray’s POV), which opens with an irresistible line of dialogue:

    • “You’re angry with me,” Lily said.
    • She was standing in front of my golf cart, arms folded.

    We don’t see Murray make his way to the golf cart, start the engine and roll down the hill, nor do we see him clock Lily making her way across the lawn. We dive straight into their make-or-break conversation.

    Make us laugh

    Use your character’s inner voice to get us on side.

    What are they thinking in this moment? Starting with that thought, especially if it’s incongruous with the scenario they’re in, is like catnip for readers.

    Consider this from Chapter Seven of That Island Feeling by Karina May, in which POV character Jack is cleaning rooms at the local resort:

    • Humans are foul. Especially humans on holidays. It’s like they forget the basics of cleanliness. Coffee stains on sheets, crumbs on sheets – other things on sheets.

    Or this line from Wattle it Be by Emma Mugglestone, when Wyatt fronts up for dinner with the crush he can’t have, Billie (page 42).

    • It wasn’t like this was a real date.  

    One is written in first person, the other third, but both examples show us the character’s unique voice, pulling us in with their humour and wilful self-delusion.

    Set the scene

    Writing isn’t all dialogue and inner narrative. You also need to anchor the story in place. Setting the scene can be an effective way to open a chapter – just take care not to overdo it. A few lines of description can paint a picture, while a few pages can send the reader to sleep.

    This para from Chapter Five of Kit McBride Gets a Wife by Amy Barry works beautifully – it’s just enough rich detail to bring to life the charming tableau that’s about to be shattered by Junebug’s rough manners and scheming.

    • Willabelle was holding court in one of Rigby’s high-backed cane chairs. She was decked out in canary-yellow satin, with an enormous fluffy yellow feather curling from her pile of blond hair. She was glowing, the sun around which everything orbited. The porch was crammed with miners. Every seat was full, and the porch rail was hidden, as men lined it, elbow to elbow. All of them had their gazes trained on Willabelle.

    Bonus tip: Don’t overthink it

    Not every scene needs to shock and awe. You need some variety in your novel, and some slower-paced openers can allow readers time to breathe and absorb the story.

    But if you feel that your writing is falling flat, playing around with those chapter and scene openers and cutting away extraneous detail to highlight the purpose of the scene might just be the way to add some sparkle to your story.

    Want help refining your scene and chapter openers? Get in touch to chat about editing for your novel.