Info Dumping

Aah, chapter 40, now chapter 38, once 5 pages, now only half a page in-progress…

All through this story, I’ve been trying to squeeze in a particular subplot–not because it works organically with my story, but because it’s such a cool idea, and it makes me feel clever. So I’ve been adding lines here and there–lines that might as well be typed in red font because they flash like warning signs. Warning, warning–this doesn’t belong!

Did I delete those lines? No. I added more. I padded sentences and plot lines, building little nests around this subplot. Later in the story I dedicate two entire chapters to the subplot. I might as well run outside, yank down the stop sign on the corner and shove it into my manuscript.

What convinced me that I truly needed to abandon my ever-so-clever subplot? The huge info dump on pages 153-158. A minor character who only exists to service said subplot appears out of nowhere and says, “let me explain X to you.” And I let him talk for paragraphs. Oh, sure, I break up the dialogue with some lovely actions, etc. But I’m still doing an info dump–because the subplot simply doesn’t fit, naturally, organically, compellingly, or anything-ly into my story.

So today I’m finally deleting it. No more random lines here and there. No more minor character with no other purpose. Knock. Knock. I’m here to stop the flow of your story. No more extra chapters. And no more info dump!

Things that belong in stories have a way of weaving through the various plots with ease. Characters automatically want to talk about them, great action results from them, consequences flow easily from them… Watch those info dumps. Usually something more than poor writing is going on.

This Week In Revision: Characters With Baggage

Quick–what first comes to mind when you see:


Popular? Pretty? Mean? Dumb? 

Moody? Morose? Serious? Misunderstood? Deep? Poetic?


Popular? Hot body? Lucky with girls? Dumb? Jerk?
Smart? Unpopular? Ugly? Scrawny? Absolutely unlucky with girls?


Some characters come with a lot of baggage! 

I’m writing a story about a high school girl, so naturally some of these character types people my story. And some of them, unfortunately, read as stereotypes: flat, predictable, boring. This week, I’ve worked on unpacking their luggage and fluffing them up, so to speak.

So how do you transform a stereotype into a realistic character?

1. Avoid using labels. The instant you write short-hand descriptions of your characters–geek, jock, brain–your readers will fixate on the stereotype, not the unique details that (may) follow.

I made the mistake of labeling an Asian character as “good at math.” Right away the stereotype alarm buzzed in my agent’s head. The thing is: that character never does math in the novel; we never see her in math class. I’d written that as a lazy way to describe her ethnicity. So–

2. Choose unique details that give your character complexity. Give them contradictory qualities. I’m really organized–I make lists, file important papers, work efficiently, meet deadlines. But I have a super cluttered, super messy house. And my desk–yikes! 

Think about the kinds of things that are important to your characters. How does he/she see the world? Is your character a musical person? Maybe he notices sounds. Observe things from your character’s eyes (I often use this as an excuse to take a writing field trip). 

Use details that show the effect your characters have on the other characters in your story. Do people think your attractive, yet shy, character is stuck up? 

3. Create backstory for all of your characters. I’m good at thinking about my main character’s past experiences, but I often allow secondary characters to slip into my stories unprepared. That’s when I resort to labels and stereotypes. 

Stop and think about each character’s backstory. How do your characters know each other? What past experiences did they share? What expectations do they bring to their current relationships with each other? 

4. Think about each character’s motivation in each scene you write. Realistic characters have personal agendas–that usually conflict with another character’s plans. Stereotypes just want to hang out, win the big game, fluff their hair… While rewriting, give each character–even the dude moping in the background–a goal. Now let things get messy. And interesting!

If you’d like to read more writing tips from me (as well as other writers), check out Suzanne Morgan Williams’ blog: http://www.suzannemorganwilliams.com/suzanne_blog.html

Revision Report: Filling Holes

Flashbacks are great, right? Type a few snappy lines and voila–you can move ahead with your story.

Unless, you’ve used those snappy lines to avoid writing a key scene. I do this. In every single manuscript. Every single time I write a manuscript. Why? Key scenes are hard to write, especially when the characters brim with emotion, passion, and tension.
Sometimes writing those scenes makes me crabby.
Today I reached one of those unwritten key scenes. So, I put some towels in the dryer, soaked a few dishes, read a few blog entries, pulled chunks of hair off my shedding dog… And then I turned off the Internet, poured another cup of coffee, turned my music on loud, danced around a bit to Phoenix, pet the cat–and (finally) wrote my main character throwing a big, justifiable fit.
So why did I avoid this powerful scene in the first place? I wish I could say that I’m unfamiliar with the throwing of fits, but that, unfortunately, isn’t true. I think I simply wanted to move on to easier writing.
Key scenes are difficult: you have to dig deep into the character, often looking into the darker, tantrum-throwing parts of yourself. You’re balancing the right tone, character change, growth, opposition, creating and increasing tension… And I usually end up rewriting key scenes numerous times before I get them right.
So what’s my strategy?
1. Make a list of physical sensations your characters might experience.
2. Brainstorm the setting–are there items in the setting that will amp up the tension in the scene? If not, maybe this scene needs a better setting? (Mine did!)
3. Think of a time when you’ve experienced similar emotions. Free write all those emotions, things you said, wish you’d said. Play with a variety of metaphors. Try a few lines in your character’s voice. Don’t judge anything you write, just go and go and go. See if the best bits will fit into your story. If not, at least you’ve gotten to that tension-filled emotional place.
4. Make yourself sit and write. Forget the dishes, the dog, that email that just dinged. It doesn’t have to be a great scene right now. The important thing is to write something, anything…
Because there’s always revision!

Revision Is A Bear! Or Is It?

As I new writer, I approached revision like this:


The mere thought of all the potential mistakes in my novel made me feel as if I were, well, being eaten alive by a bear. Where do you start when there are SO many problems with a story? I chose to ignore the big, structural problems, choosing instead to focus on small, safe things like word choice, punctuation…

And it wasn’t too effective. My manuscripts gathered a stacks of rejection form letters from publishers. Eventually, I learned the importance of revision, but I still didn’t have many effective tools for approaching it. I simply read through my manuscripts over and over again, looking for things to fix. And sometimes I couldn’t see the problems through the, um, car windshield.


Earlier this month I had the opportunity to attend Darcy Pattison’s novel revision retreat. Aha! Using Darcy’s workbook, Novel Metamorphosis, we learned how to tackle revision issues one at a time. First we created a novel inventory, noting the plot action and emotion in each chapter. So helpful! At a glance, I noticed a potentially weak chapter and places where I could strengthen emotional resonance.

Another incredibly useful revision technique is the shrunken manuscript. Darcy showed us how examining our novel in 6 point font, single spaced, can show us the overall patterns in our stories. One attendee realized that her story lacked conflict for several chapters in a row. That’s exactly the kind of comment I used to ignore (my critique partners just didn’t get it, I’d tell myself). But it’s hard to argue with bright, bold highlighting. To learn more about the shrunken manuscript process, check out Darcy’s blog.

All weekend we worked on small sections of our stories, which made the process seem quite do-able–and not quite so scary or overwhelming. Because revision really isn’t a bear, it’s simply a series of small tasks. Think of them as cuddly little bear cubs!

Happy revising! (We couldn’t resist stopping at Bear World on our way home from the retreat.)