Wr.Tu.Th.: Beginnings

Welcome to the first installment of Writing Tutorial Thursdays. With these tutorials, I hope to help answer some of your most nagging writing questions; from how to write a great main character to what makes a great setting. (If you have any requests, let me know and I’ll be happy to come up with a tutorial just for you.) Today’s tutorial is all about beginnings.

 

Writing Tutorial: How Do I Begin?

Disclaimer: The information presented herein is based on what I, personally, have learned in my educational and professional careers. This tutorial is simply meant to offer some helpful tips.

INTRODUCTION: So you have the raddest idea for a novel. Sweet. Okay, how do you start writing one? Have no fear; I’m here to help you get started.

1) There are many ways (and none of them is the “right way”) to begin a novel. Many authors will tell you that a story just “comes to them.” (It does for me.) If that seems insane to you, a good way to start the creative juices flowing is to brainstorm. Create a mind map. Throw all your ideas about your story onto paper. This way you can get everything out into the open.

2) Be sure you have all elements needed for your novel. I am talking about fiction novels, so that means, specifically, character, plot and setting. You can also add in other details such as, genre, theme, point of view, length, etc. Get out your mind map and organize your thoughts into categories:

  • Characters
    1. secondary characters
  • Plot
    1. subplots
  • Setting

3) Create a killer opening line. The biggest, most important sentence you will write in your novel is the first one. It is what needs to hook your reader and keep them holding on. To write a great opener, here are some things to remember. I’ve used all of these in past stories.

  • Jump in. Start in the middle of action or dialogue. This creates a sense of urgency and creates excitement for your reader.
  • Be eccentric. Nobody says you have to write exactly like everyone else. You just have to get peoples’ attention. If that means opening with a 10-line sentence, then so be it. Just make sure it’s AMAZING…and not a run-on.
  • State it. Nothing grabs someone’s attention like stating a fact. It “slaps you in the face,” so to speak. Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 is a great example: “It was a pleasure to burn.” Genius.

4) Let it flow. In the beginning, you have so many ideas you just can’t stop writing… So, don’t! Seriously, just keep writing. Let your ideas flow, no matter how weird they sound. Even if everything is jumbled on paper, write it down. You should see the scrawled handwriting in my notebooks when I first start working on something. But that’s part of the idea! The editing process comes later. The point in the beginning is to get it all down.

5) Don’t stop. Sometimes the dreaded writer’s block sneaks in. Don’t be discouraged. The best advice I can give you (that I’ve been given countless times) is to keep writing! It might seem like there’s “nothing in the tank,” but you mustn’t give up. Force yourself to sit at your computer, or open up that journal, and write. Even if it’s just to jot down a few ideas, write!

These are some ways that help me get started writing a novel, or even a short story. Hopefully they’ll help you, too. Do you have any other suggestions? Questions? Let me know!

Don’t forget: the way to better writing is by practicing!

Happy writing!

WTT: Pens

Welcome to the first installment of Writing Tip Tuesday, where I drop random hints, tricks and tips to help you on your writing path.

Tip 1: People often say to bring a notebook with you wherever you go. That’s good advice, but I think the better advice is to bring a pen wherever you go. If you come up with an idea, you can always write on a napkin, a scrap piece of paper, or even your hand. It doesn’t really help if you have a notebook and no pen, though. ;P

Do you have any writing tips you’d like to share? Let me know!

Revamp

If you haven’t noticed, I’m revamping things around here. Gonna be lots of changes. I’ve come up with some rad ideas to get my name and writing out to the public this spring/summer and part of it involves redoing my website.

So expect lots of new things!

DID YOU SEE I FINALLY SET UP A FACEBOOK PAGE!? .—->

Besides that, I’m working on a short story collection. Part of my bigger plan is to self-publish the collection. But I can’t divulge too many of my secrets.

More later. …I’m so excited and motivated, it’s ridiculous.

Tiny Terrapins

Tiny Terrapins
JCD Kerwin

I don’t own a turtle.

I’ve never held interest
in a painted’s carapace, and
I’ve never been concerned
with chelonians in the park.

I haven’t got a tank
full of grimy, brackish water,
or heat lamps burning
above a mini desert.

Yet,
I know a little something
about hiding in yourself.

February 2016

That Leftover Taste in Your Mouth

That Leftover Taste in Your Mouth
JCD Kerwin

 

“Well, I’m leaving you now.”

The comment was so unabashedly inserted into the atmosphere that I spat out my coffee.

I brushed spilt java off the front of my shirt. It wasn’t a complete waste; the coffee was leftover from the evening before. It was bitter and burned.

I turned to my wife. “You what?”

She stood by the kitchen door, two suitcases at her feet and a frown on her face.

“I’m leaving you, Jack,” she repeated. She exhaled annoyance and brushed brown hair from her face. “It’s over.”

I stood up so quickly, I knocked over the chair. “What? What are you talking about?”

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “You ever get it when you’re constantly fighting with yourself? Like, you are watching a movie of your life and desperately screaming at the screen, hoping a situation changes, but it won’t because it’s a movie?”

I stared blankly. Toast crumbs stuck to the corners of my mouth.

She shifted her weight. “Well, I’m doing something about this movie. I’m changing the direction.”

“But, I don’t understand! What brought this on?”

Brought it on? Nothing brought it on. It’s not as if I suddenly got sick. This has been brewing below the surface for a while, Jack.”

I desperately looked around the kitchen, as if I hoped the appliances would come to my aid.

“Well, why haven’t you mentioned anything before?”

She sighed. “It wouldn’t have mattered.”

“It would have mattered to me!” I exclaimed.

She leaned over to pick up the suitcases. “I knew you’d make a scene,” she mumbled.

“Me? But why are you leaving? At least tell me why! Let’s talk about this,” I spluttered, flailing my arms.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I just don’t think the magic is there anymore.”

“You want magic? I’ll become a magician!”

“Jack,” she said sternly, “there’s nothing to be done. I’ve made up my mind.”

“Linda, please!”

“Goodbye, Jack.” She turned on her heel and left.

The screen door slammed back into place. Her car roared to life and then faded.

I stared at the spot she was in and then to the plant on the windowsill. I couldn’t tell what it was any longer; its leaves had long since browned and shriveled. Linda had given up on it. I had continued to water it even though it seemed fruitless. Now, a small green bud poked through the dirt.

I gazed into the backyard. The taste of burnt coffee lingered on my tongue.

February 2016