Dragons and Werewolves and Bears, Oh My! - Charley R's Guide to Fantastical Beasts

I've not done one of these in a horrifically long time - and for that, first of all, I apologise.

Secondly . . . how on earth was I supposed to resist this topic when it came into my dream-dazed head this morning? Evidently seven thirty wake up calls are good for something after all.

Budding fantasy writers of every ilk will doubtless have had some encounters with the joys of inventing their own fantastical creatures. They're practically icons of the genre: dragons, unicorns, talking beasts and all manner of thousand-year-old humanoids who either want can't decide if they'd rather help, harangue or horribly masticate the unfortunate traveller who stumbles into their lairs.

Of course, as with most aspects of the creative process, the potential in this area is endless. There would be no point in me trying to give you a conclusive guide to how to create every single fantastical beast in existence - I'd be here until I was one thousand, and I don't know if my concentration could last beyond the second or third century. It would certainly give out faster than my fingers.

So, today, I'm just going to give you a little pick-and-mix bag of top tips for starting the process of creating your critters. How? By taking you all along to the One Stop Fantasist's Pet Shop!

Aisle One: Kennel, Cage, or Kraken Pit?

When caring for your new beastie, there are two really important things to take into consideration, and the most immediate is of its setting - what sort of environment is it going to live in?

You can go about this in two ways, really. If you're starting from a blank slate, you might want to start out by designing the setting, and then fitting the creature in around it. For example, if you decide you want to set your tale in a desert, and want a fantastical beast involved, then you'd best gear the aforementioned towards survival therein. It's not half as much fun trying to set an ice titan on your hero if all they have to do is wait for it to melt.

On the other hand, if you already have your critter, then build the setting around their strengths and features. Are they carnivorous? Are they built for speed, agility, or endurance? What do they eat? What sort of features do they have that would be advantageous in a certain environment? 

Looking around the diverse environments of our own lovely planet can be a great help when looking for the ideal environment for your new pet, too.

Aisle Two: Sit! Stay! Recite Poetry!

Drawing the line on the intelligence of your beastie is very important, as it'll affect a lot of their subsequent behaviour in the story. And I don't just mean the difference between sentience and non-sentience - even creatures who don't articulate in recognisable speech patterns can be incredibly clever, as the antics of that pesky fox who keeps stealing your leftover takeaway from the rubbish bin every Tuesday is testament to.

Intelligent critters may be more or less inclined to approach and interact with your characters, depending on their environment. If they know they have the advantage, because they're pretty sure that squishy biped can't see them in this pitch-dark cave, they might be more inclined to approach and investigate. However, if the aforementioned biped appears to be wielding something large, pointy and indigestible, and stands among a considerable pack of its fellows wielding equally unpleasant items, then it might be more inclined to hang back. Dafter animals will do this too, but they might possibly not have quite the same level of self-preservative instinct when backed into a corner.

Aisle Three: Alpha, or Omega?

This point probably applies more to highly intelligent sentient species than others, but I feel it is nevertheless worth mentioning. If your beastie comes from an intelligent race or species, it will likely have a more sophisticated style of interaction with members of its own kin. Even loners will meet on occasion, whether accidentally or during set meeting times, particularly to mate. That said, societal or pack creatures will likely have their own hierarchy - especially if these packs are based around family. 

Once again, the natural world can provide plenty of help in deciding how your particular species will operate. The pack systems of wolves and lions can provide helpful guidelines with regard to body language and behaviour of different members of the pack, depending on their social standing. Deciding where each member stands will affect their behaviour; a low-ranking member of the party is less likely to make the first approach on anything new in the territory, and will probably stick to acting as backup to its social superiors. Likewise, if by some miracle you have a member of your adventuring party who can communicate with the beasties, they will likely address the leaders, who will then impose the standard treatment for the others to follow.

Aisle Four: "Fluffy", or "Killer"?

Depending on the level of detail, and the importance of the beastie or race to the story, you may want to think about what they're called - both by others, and among themselves. The "us and them" mentality comes into play here - we only think of ourselves as humans when comparing ourselves to non-humans, otherwise we look for distinctions in our country of origin, gender, family, or views on the usefulness of ping pong balls in a game of water polo.

This is especially important for species who come in a wide variety of clans or family units. Though they come from the same common ancestor, and their differences may be negilgible, if they are a competitive species - especially predators - they will draw distinctions. And, likely, so will your party members. It's always lots of fun to have the budding zoologist of your group being uncertain as to whether this brand of snake-dogs are the venomous, or non-venomous, variety.

Aisle Five: Accessories (and Worse)

This list really makes it look like I've sucked all the fun out of the creative process, doesn't it? But that's not the truth entirely - just because there are things one needs to keep an eye out for doesn't mean that the process can't be fun. And hey, it's fiction - you can be as creative as you please in creating your critters, and no one can tell you otherwise. Want them to be purple? They can be purple. Want them to speak backwards? They can speak backwards.

In the end, they are your creations, and it is entirely up to you how you work with them. Have fun. Enjoy creating the beastie. Because if you don't enjoy them, I doubt your readers will either.


Enough from me - what you all of you think! Are there any other aisles you'd add to this proverbial pet shop? Is there a particular approach you like to take when inventing something weird and wonderful? Do you prefer original creations, or reworking an old classic?

Leave a comment, and let me know!

~ Charley R

Got a Carrot, Anyone? - Charley R's Guide to Exploiting Plot Bunnies

An extract from "The Many and Varied Creatures of the Authorsphere".

"The Common Plot Bunny - the most common member of the wider species of Booke Bunny - is a common infestation among the fertile plains of Early Drafts, with colonies occasionally sprouting in the lower planes of Early Rewrites. Appearing in a range of sizes and shapes, and proliferating across all genres, the Common Plot Bunny is infamous for its ablity to cause upset in areas of cultivated Plot, Character Development, and in worst-case scenarios it has been known to upset entire Novels. While many a valiant author has tried to take best precautions against them, the Bunny's ability to breed very rapidly in an exceedingly short space of time renders them incredibly hard to combat, while their sheer diversity prevents development of any single surefire method of prevention."

I'm sorry I couldn't produce any more of this extract for you - I had to crawl into the lair of a Lesser Spotted Sporkbeast to retrieve it, and just my luck it happened to be at home at the time. I'm still recovering from the effects of the bite - though I like to think the purple hue will fade from my ears before too long.

NaNoWriMo has really brought my attention to how difficult it is to formulate a novel without a strict plan. I'm not normally one for this liberal approach, but the novel I am working on rather demanded some room for manouvre; loose formatting, few major plot points, and plenty of leeway for changes of direction in the story.

I should have guessed the Plot Bunnies would exploit it as well as they did. They've made a lovely mess I can tell you.

However, in the vain hope I can help you, dear readers, to defend your inky fortresses against invasions of the little monsters, I shall give you a short list of Bunny-Proofing methods that have worked best for me, in the past.

That is, if I can type them before they eat into my motor neurones.

***

1 - Open the Floodgates!

Having a stringent plan for a novel is by no means everyone's cup of cotton-tailed tea, but a good brainstorm never hurt anyone. Just pull out any old piece of paper, write your novel's name in the middle, and splatter any random ideas that come into your mind over it. You can be as organised or random as you like, and the best part of it is that, when a Bunny come nosing out of its warren, you can shunt the fluffy little rascal into the mind map. You'll know where it is, then, at least, and any breeding will take place on the page, where you can hopefully keep an eye on it.

2 - Wibbly-Wobbly, Plotty-Wotty. . .

Who says there's only one direction a plot can go? When a particularly interesting Bunny strikes, but you're not sure if it can follow itself all the way to a conclusion, why not just open up another document and run with it for a while? You'll either run the little monster to death, and put it firmly out of your mind, or it might even prove to be the better idea of the two, and you can carry on with it as the "main" plot line! Admittedly this will really only work for large-scale bunnies, but it can be helpful at times.

3 - Out of the Hat, Into The Fire!

The word "bunny" may not transfer easily into the word "twist", but as they both start with the word "plot", there's no harm in chopping off a few bits in the process. Turning a plot bunny into an interesting twist, or perhaps a red herring if it's too outlandish to fit in properly with the rest of the narrative, is a great way to keep most of the little rascals under control. It'll also add more complexity and depth to your plot, in the right measurements.

4 - War Bunnies, Attack!

You may well have made yourself at home in your current bastion of a story, but who knows when inspiration will strike and you'll grab your sword, shield, and pointy stick to gallivant off to conquer a new one! Having a reserve of eager, bouncing Bunnies may help you get a handle on the unruly Infant Plot and Underdeveloped Characters who will doubtless put up a valiant defence of their virgin territory. They get a home, and you get a new kingdom to rule or ruin as you please. Everyone wins. Almost.

***

Egad, they're coming thick and fast now! Still, I'm glad I managed to get these points to you, my readers, but feel free to leave me any tips in return! The little monsters have defeated most everything I have now - they even ate the cannon ammunition - and I could do with any helpful suggestions.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to make sure they haven't gotten into the gunpowder-

. . . Oh.

Never mind.

~ Charley R

To Each Their Own - Charley R's Guide to Distinctive Narrative Voice

Dialogue plays a massive part in how a character is portrayed to the reader. Unsurprisingly, this is part of the reason why it is so difficult to write. However, it is not only when the character is speaking - whether it be to their friends, their colleagues, or the slightly tipsy orange goddess who is making herself at home in their kitchen sink - that your character will be developing their own distinctive voice.

"Voice" in this sense refers to the way the story is written. Even in a simple third-person tale, when not thinking aloud or talking, a certain character will leave traces of their viewpoint in the tale, whether it be in terms of descriptive language, an objective examination of a person or object, or something more subtle.

Although this is mostly applicable to stories using first person or rotating narration, developing a distinctive voice for a character is an incredibly useful tool when it comes to encouraging audience engagement. One only has to look at the popularity of authors like Terry Pratchett and Suzanne Collins to see that having a particularly gripping or engaging tone can lead to massive success.

People view the world in very different ways, and fictional characters are no different. A jaded, seven-and-a-half-thousand-year-old wizard is going to view an argument very differently to the overly-sensitive gerbil hiding in the rim of his hat. However, with other concerns cluttering the author's mind - pacing, dialogue, grammar, that character that's been giving you dirty looks since you broke his nose three chapters ago - it's not always easy to maintain a distinctive narrative tone for the character.

Thus, I present to you a few examples of things you will likely have noted in your story that can affect your characters' viewpoint, their phraseology, and subsequently their presentation in the story.

***

1 - Their Social Status
Not long ago, I entrusted a post on this topic to a fictional personage of my own. Amidst his superfluous drivel, one might have noted his ridiculously long title, and his irritating use of long words. Meanwhile, another of his fellow guest posters had a very different voice, and wasn't half so fond of multiple syllables. As well as being a key indicator of their degree of education, a character's social background will also influence the type of people they would associate with, and the sort of language and viewpoint they would pick up from growing up in such an environment. For example, while Rahad might hold a very high opinion of philosophers due to his aristocratic background, Abra regards them with a sort of bemused scorn as, being a working-class girl, she sets little store by their constant disagreements over daft things like the number of winged blokes in dresses who can balance on a pin-head.

2 - Their Hobbies
If someone enjoys something, it's most likely that they know a lot about it. It's also quite likely that, if they are faced with a problem or situation, they will subconsciously start using skills learnt from their hobby to solve it. Pursuits and situations that are similar to, or somehow involve, their interests are likely to be greeted with a more positive view than something that is the polar opposite. These skills can come into play in even the most outlandish of situations, so its worth keeping them in mind when confronting your character with a challenge. Theseus might have had a good deal more fun with his ball of thread in the Minotaur's maze if he'd been proficient in the art of crocheting lumpy things.

3 - Their Self-Awareness
No, I don't mean whether or not your character wakes up in the morning remembering if she has toes or not. Characters who are more self-aware are more likely to have a greater understanding of not only their likes, dislikes, strengths and limitations, but they are also more likely to present a very different  viewpoint to a character who is less prone to introspection. This may mean the former character has a more definitive view on situations, or is more worried when they have to push themselves beyond what they consider their limit. Meanwhile, the less self-aware character will likely draw the lucky number to be taking a voyage of self discovery at the same time as chasing the mystical MacGuffin across a land infested with a worryingly large number of carnivorous fungi.

4 - Their IQ
This might sound incredibly obvious, but there is a marked difference between someone's education-earned knowledge and their natural cognitive ability. Just because your character came from the working class, left school at fifteen and currently works behind the counter in Tesco's doesn't mean they're as thick as a pound of mince. One can demonstrate a character's natural thinking by showing how fast they work out different types of problem, or how easily they catch on to new skills, or piece together related (or perhaps unrelated) events. My 2010 NaNoWriMo featured a character who was severely dyslexic, illiterate, and poor as a church mouse, but was naturally very good at hands-on tasks (he could dismantle and re-assemble his ancient semi-automatic rifle in under a minute) and had a strong graps of strategy and consequence. Confront him with a page of quantum physics, however, and he would have been running for the exit faster than you could say "Newton".

5 - Their Faith
There aren't many openly religious characters in Young Adult books, but across the rest of the market one might be able to find a few. Religious faith varies wildy, even within a single religion, so it's important to have at least a general understanding of your character's religious stance, if you decide to give them a faith. Their faith will also influence things like their moral views, their sense of fate, and maybe even their views on larger themes such as death, love, and the rights of intelligent aquatic mammals. Meanwhile, it may also cause additional conflict when they are faced with a difficult moral decision - especially in a contemporary setting, if something like the right to die, homosexual rights, or a controvertial medical treatment are involved. Whether their faith means they are any less scared of being chewed to death by the large, angry dragon that is barrelling towards them across the skyline is another matter entirely.

***

What about you, readership? How do you deal with the challenges of narrative voice? Is there a particular strategy you like to use to help you work it out for an individual character? Do you think I've missed any crucially important factors from my list up there? Leave me a comment and let me know!

~ Charley R

You, Herself, and I - Charley R's Guide to Viewpoints

Starting a new story is fantastic. It's fresh, it's exciting, it's full of potential for fun and mischief and all-round awesomeness. It's also something of a triumph, because getting to the start point is more trouble than a bag of cats dipped in hot sauce on a summer afternoon. Characters, setting, storyline - everything has a wonderful habit of mutating and changing and refusing to co-operate with you as you desperately try to hash out the idea before putting pen to paper.

And then this last little blighter jumps up and bites you on the nose. Never mind the story itself - how on earth are you going to tell it? One narrator? Is one enough? Which character should be the narrator? First person? Third? Stream of consciousness? Do you really trust a stream to keep track of all their names?

Many a great tale has been delayed because the author couldn't work out who was telling the tale.

Hence why I am doing this post today. In a vain attempt to aid all writers in the struggle over viewpoint, I'm going to pin down every option I can think of, from the norms to the nonsensical. Think of it as a metaphorical recipe- pick whichever options suit your proverbial supper. I don't recommend putting it on your actual supper. It tastes a bit like rhubarb crumble with jalapeno peppers and aubergine juice.

AISLE ONE: THE BASICS

Third Person, Past Tense, Limited Narrator - This is probably the most common form of narrative strand, and also the easiest to follow. Written in past tense, we follow a single character's actions throughout the narrative, from an "over their shoulder" perspective. E.G. - Bob was walking to the shop to buy some eggs when, suddenly, his chihuahua exploded after eating a radioactive fish finger. Startled, he fell on his backside and let out a cry as the pavement bit him cruelly on the backside.

Pros: Its popularity probably lies in its simplicity. While we are encouraged to engage and relate to the narrator, we also have the advantage of distance from the tricky stream-of-consciousness elements that a first person narration can bring up. Third person also allows for greater description of setting, and physical appearance of other characters (first person narrators often don't have great reason to describe characters they are familiar with). Allowances for short deviations into explanatory passages from the author also tend to flow better from a third person perspective.

Cons: Being unable to deviate from a single point of view could be limiting to a complex, multi-stranded plot, and if the story contains a wide variety of characters with very important roles, the readers might feel they are missing out on exciting events that happen away from the narrator. Giving a character a distinctive "voice" is also more difficult, as there are few available contrasts, except  via dialogue.

First Person, Past Tense, Limited Narrator - Another popular form of narration, especially in thrillers and some romance novels. Written in past tense, but using the "I" voice, as if the character vocally recounting the events of the story. E.G. - I could hardly believe it, the chihuahua's body was levitating in the air! I ran to Bob's side and thrust my chicken drumstick into his hand, hoping he could use it as a weapon if need be.

Pros: First person allows for a more personal relationship with the narrator than third, especially if the story is written in the form of a diary, or a series of letters. The character's thoughts and feelings are made more explicit, and the potential for an individual "voice" and personality to come through is huge, and relatively easy to exploit (though one does have to be careful not to get too lost in the narrator's thoughts and forgetting the story). Also, the ability to hide elements of the story from both character and reader encourages a more gradual revelation, and further engagement from the reader as they learn along with the protagonist.

Cons: Potential for confusion is high. Having a single character try and explain a complex situation to a reader can end in messy transgressions, and if the reader does not find the character engaging and interesting, they may give up on the story if they know this is the only voice they will hear for 800+ pages. As with its third person counterpart, too, a complex story with a wide cast can also be inhibited by the one-man-band style of narrative.

AISLE TWO: INTERESTING ALTERNATIVES

Omniscient Narrator - Here, the reader sits on a proverbial flying carpet, viewing all the characters' thoughts and feelings in the same narrative strand. Mostly applicable to third-person narration. E.G - The chihuahua's body, enraged at the fate it had suffered, launched itself upon its terrified owner. Bob shrieked and hurled himself instinctively behind Brenda. Luckily, she was feeling braver than him, and brandished her handbag fiercely. The chihuahua shuddered in fear and shrank back, plotting its next move.

Pros: The potential to introduce, develop and work with multiple characters is huge. Here, a reader has potential to look over characters and plot elements that they find less interesting in favour of other events and / or people they prefer. Characters' motives and feelings can be clarified, and the relationships between different people are clearer. Explanatory digressions flow near seamlessly into the narrative as, being detached from any particular viewpoint, an impersonal passage is less noticeable.

Cons: It's hard. Really really hard. Even with one or two characters, keeping an even balance between their thoughts and viewpoints in the same passage is a logistical nightmare. Complications can also arise  when characters are separated, or come together in a group, as one is not sure who to follow and when. Potential to hide characters' motives and plot elements from the readership is also more difficult. Potential for characters' individuality to come through in the writing is also seriously limited.

Rotating Narrators - Each chapter or paragraph, the viewpoint rotates to a different character. 

Pros: Applicable to both third and first person plots, rotating viewpoints can encompass a large cast whilst also providing contrasts that can highlight their individual quirks and traits. Favourite characters can be more closely tracked, while ones that an individual is less fond of are easier to skim over and / or ignore, depending how much you genuinely wish a painful end on them. Complicated plots can be brought together in strands by different characters, making for a more intriguing story while still retaining the personal relationship / ability to hide key plot points for the author

Cons: Choosing which characters should be narrators is a hard job - especially if your plot has a habit of mutating on you, and people end up in different roles to those you planned. It's easy to develop George R. R. Martin syndrome and give a viewpoint to the world and its 49 cats because you're sure they'll be useful later. It also makes killing off characters hard, as you lose their strand in the narrative, and often can't be sure whether to replace them with another narrator or not. The story can also end up a lot longer than it needs to be, as individuals have to be rounded off in some way or another (provided you don't pick them all off one by one . . . which is an interesting option, if a little psycopathic.)

Present Tense - Instead of telling the tale as a finished event, this time we see the story "as it happens". E.G. - Brenda leaps into action, swatting the chihuahua around the head with her purse. However, the blow bounces off and sends her crashing on top of Bob with a sickening crunch that perfectly mimics the noise that chihuahua is making as it slowly decomposes stinkily in mid-air. 

Pros: I think "The Hunger Games" proved how tense a present tense narrative can be. Increased immediacey heightens the stakes, as we cannot be sure that there is, theoretically, any end to tale beyond the last page of the book. We are drawn deeper than ever into the character's immediate thoughts and feelings, literally as they happen, and with no endpoint in sight, our emotions can be merrily shredded by any sadistic entity who likes throwing spanners in the works of poor figurative creations.

Cons: Some people are put off just by the fact that present tense can be slightly awkward to read. Digressions for explanatory passages are practically impossible, and if you have more than one narrator in this setup then the timefram can get wobblier than a fairground ride that hasn't seen repairs in a long while. Potential for foreshadowing is also seriously restricted.

AISLE THREE: AND IF YOU'RE FEELING ADVENTUROUS . . .

Second Person Narrator - Here, we are told the story as if we are being talked to by another figure. E.G. - You gasp as your companion lands on top of you, crushing the air from your long-suffering lungs. She's heavier than you expected, and you're pretty sure she's broken something - namely the eggs in your shopping bag.

Pros: Anyone who's ever dressed up as their favourite movie character knows how awesome it is to play the hero - and here, you literally are! Never mind a narrator, here it's the reader who is the center of attention, the chosen one, the hope of all peoples, the kicker of backside. The story is entirely yours to discover as you go along.

Cons: This viewpoint only really works in second person, and I've never seen it used anywhere effectively outside of a Goosebumps "choose your own death" style book. It's awkward to read, there's little room for exploring setting or relationships with other characters that aren't pre-determined, and a complicated story will only serve to confuse all involved.

"Fragment" Narrative - A personal term for a story that really has no distinctive narrator at all, but seems to be played out in the mindset of another observing party. E.G. - It was strange, what happened next. Amidst dreaming spires and confusion, the half-comic, half-tragic battle continued. Such is the struggle of life; a neverending whirl of emotion and panic all bottled up and falling through an endless spacial abyss.

Pros: If your project is reaching for some metaphysical truth or deeper message, a narrative like this can be fascinating. Opportunity for abstract language and expression abounds, and everything can contain a deeper meaning with greater ease than if you were in a more conventional narrative frame. Explanative digressions? Who needs those. This sort of story doesn't even have to make sense if it doesn't want to.

Cons: The optional nature of sense can be horribly confusing. Anyone who's read a William Faulkner novel will know how hard a really fragmented and abstract narrative is to read. Unless you're writing for a highbrow audience, or aiming for a deeply philosophical tone, this confusing bundle of madness is probably best left alone.

***

And what about all of you? What's your favourite sort of narrative style? Have you ever tried any of these up here? What happened? What would you recommend to other writers when helping to choose their narrative styel? Leave a comment and let us know!

~ Charley R

"...And That's How I Became President of the Universe" - Charley R's Guide to Backstories

Memory loss, guilty secrets, frequent distraction, marauding hordes of penguins - just a few of those inconvenient events that can hinder a reader's knowledge of a character's backstory. There are few fictional environments - unless you're writing a sprawling epic like Beowulf or happen to have the last name of Dickens or Eliot - where one can give the reader all the necessary background on a character at once. 

Nota bene, however, that I am not referring solely to parts of the backstory that are used as plot devices - though they will invade a large section of the proverbial sofa in this guide. I'm referring to your characters' stories as a whole; where they come from, their family, their upbringing, the choices and events that have lead them up to the point where the author decides it's time to mess them about. 

Backstories are tricky things, not in the least because it shares a bitter emnity with plot pacing. How many of us have fallen asleep in pools of dribble during a three-chapter-long digression whereby we are filled in on everything from the characters' scarring experiene with Uncle Ted's rottweiler to their agonised naval gazing when asked about the suspicious death of the creepy-looking local  overlord? And that's without mentioning all the other things that can blow up in your face.

So, here are my top tips for integrating characters' backstories effectively, without turning your readers into zombies.

Hopefully it'll point you in the right direction.

1 - Plausibility

Especially applicable to the obligatory mysterious background / companion character, this is probably the biggest flaw I find in explanations of a character's history. Would you really expect someone to believe you if you told them that their childhood friend and protector was actually a thousand-year-old demon imprisoned on earth for attempting to destroy the universe? Especially when the aforementioned demon shows no sign of being anything other than a dim-witted but cheerful dope whose only evil deed is to mis-quote Monty Python.

My remedy for this is to have the character worked out before you even begin the story. Make sure you leave some small indications in previous chapters that could lend concrete proof to the revelatory plot element. The character's a sadistic demon in disguise? Maybe he's tested positive for a form of sociopathic behavior. The character is a long-lost relative? A little physical similarity and maybe an occasional "OMG, I have an Auntie Beryl too!" would help. 

For general backstory, this is the same. The odds of that heavily armoured brute on a horse actually being the long-lost son of the local washerwoman are very low. Likewise for your "typical American girl" turning out to be the daughter of some strange reclusive alien species. Know what they are, and what that entails in their behaviour, and ask yourself "does that really sound believable?"

Don't overdo the hints though. The readers aren't daft. Honest.

2 - Originality

Surprisingly, whipping out the Age Old Unfulfilled Prophecy is not always the best way to explain how a character is who they are. We've seen it so many hundreds of times and - like the aged wizard, the wise old mentor and the dusty volume in the abandoned library - we expect the outcome.

Try and make the revelation more interesting - or, at least, more natural. If it's general background, why not have them talking to travellers on the road, and they get onto relevant interests (a good part for explaining that your character is fond of music or swordplay), or have someone else talk about the character (a good part to get their reputation and origin). 

For revelatory snippets, you can be more creative. Although the event of suddenly discovering powers in a stressful situation is much used, the room to be original is massive. Rather than an old book explaining everything, why not have the characters discover the truth in bits and pieces throughout the story? This will not only compliment the plot, but it will be a point of interest to hold your reader's attention. Dragons and exploding turnips can only be amusing for so long, after all.

3 - Impact

I swear, if that wretched mage starts harping on about Sir Doobledoo's destiny to be the bearer of the Magical MacGuffin Sword and slay Lord MwuaHaHaI'mSoEvil one more time, I'm going to drown him in his soup bowl!

If you've got something to explain, you may as well do it properly. Make sure the events are clear, relevant, and - most of all - memorable. Although we may need a small reminder of the presence of the curse on Lady Fluffypants' pet gerbil from time to time, we do not need to be slammed over the head with its cause and lore every other paragraph. If the explanation is a good one, you will not need to do it again and you can get on with what the readers really want - the story!

Turning the "explanation scene" - if you feel you really must have one - into a memorable event can also be a great bonus for the story. Rather than being a digression from the action, try to make it a good piece of prose in its own right. Don't just wander off into a long-winded explanation - get the characters asking questions, get them reacting, get them thinking out loud. "Oh! That time you tamed the posessed hosepipe totally makes sense now we know you're part water sprite!" That sort of thing. 

4 - Nuance

Not everything in your backstory has to be flashy. In fact, not everything in your backstory is going to need to be told. Giving a general idea of a character's rustic background will be easier through their speech patterns (an accent? certain colloquial phrases?), how they stand in an environment (I dare you to find me a sailor who'd be happy halfway up a flaming mountain!), and what they do. In my newest novel - whose three protagonists gave me the inspiration for this post - I know for a fact that my lead male character is more than happy to talk diplomatically, but his sister is warmer from the outset and is more comfortable around strangers. 

Similarly, let your character's current position show their past. For example, the third protagonist of my trio is a general, but as he spent time as a stable boy, he knows plenty about animal husbandry. Show, don't tell. And let the readers' imagination fill in the parts of the tale that may not be so important - like extended family, childhood experiences etc. Keep it relevant, and, honest, you won't miss that gag about the mackerel in the local lord's boots as much as you think.

5 - Timing

I'm sure your agitated hero isn't the only one thinking there are better things to do during dragon invasions than be chasing pixies up mountains on the promise that catching one will mean he can learn about the platypus-shaped birthmark on his left butt cheek.

Although having someone torn between a personal goal and a more altruistic one makes for great conflict, don't let your hero's personal quest get in the way of your main plot (this may or may not be applicable, depending on the relevance of the backstory to the plot). Sure, we've discovered that your lovely little girl is in fact the daughter of an exiled enchantress ... but that's not much use when your quest revolves around hunting down a stolen biscuit. 

There are multiple ways of working this issue out, of which I shall mention a few:

- Running the two "quests" side-by-side, using them to keep up the tension and pace and keep the reader's interest if one narrative starts running dry.

- Using key events in the main narrative as teasers to the second, which can be gradually pieced together jigsaw-style beneath the main story.

- Combining the two; being careful to avoid the cliches, why not give the character a personal reason for going on their quest? It'll make the revelation of both a lot easier for you.

And, as mentioned in the "Impact" stage, try not to let the explanation run on for too long. Otherwise we will get bored. And you won't like us when we're bored.

POINT you in the right direction .... very punny!

What about you guys? Have I missed anything? Anything new to add on what's already up here? 

~ Charley R

Thank God It's Over! - Charley R's Guide to Endings

And they all lived happily ever after.

The End.

Please tell me I'm not the only one who feels an overwhelming urge to impale themself on a stick when I read those lines? As if the fact that the line itself is so horribly cliché - so much that, nowadays, only Disney can get away with it without being ripped to shreds - the worst part is that it commits the one mistake that really gets my goat when it comes to endings.

No matter of the events, the target age or the genre of your story, it is impossible.

Even if it is only because some unfortunate pixie got stood on by the heroine's clumsy-but-well-meaning fluffy pink unicorn while she was riding through the Meadows of Joy searching for the queen's lost Sparkly Tiara of Rainbows, a truly all-encompassing "happily ever after" is truly an unaccomplishable feat. Not in the least because there's usually some form of baddie who requires squishing along the way.

Besides, there's an even worse reason why this ending deserves to slip in the shower, bash its teeth on the handrail and have to spend the next ten hours having bits of plastic and pointy metal stuck in its mouth to fix it.

It's B.O.R.I.N.G. In capitals.

The ending of a book is absolutely crucial, to both author and reader. It's the last the reader sees of the world, their last chance to know what becomes of the beloved (or utterly despised) characters they have met and accompanied. You've got to make it memorable - especially if you're planning to bring the readers back to your work again, irregardless of a sequel!

Now then, please squash your wriggling Disneyfied endings under the sofa as we utilise the delights of the culinary world to browse through the qualities and possibilities of an ending that will have your readers screaming for more ... and, in some cases, for your head on a stick.

***

1 - In Which the Ending is Like a Chocolate Cake.
Speaking from personal experience, I feel there are few things in the world that can be declared more satisfying than finishing off a delicious piece of mouth-watering chocolate cake. You lounge back in your chair, nursing a happily gurgling tummy and licking the last scraps of deliciousness from your mouth. True, you nearly choked on that Smartie a couple of minutes ago, and the jammy icing took a little getting used to, but, all in all, you are a happy bunny.

The Chocolate Cake Ending is popular, and rightly so. While bad things may have happened in the book, and everything may not have worked out spectacularly for everyone involved, the end result for the reader is a warm, happy feeling that everything is as it should be. The prince is back on the throne, the mystery's solved, the killer's back in jail and the poor neglected rape victim is curled up on the sofa with her cat and loving new boyfriend.

The reader likes this ending because it's a message of hope, and because the characters they love have an ending that the reader thinks they deserve. Avoid overmuch sugar, though. The dreaded "Happily Ever After" bacteria have been known to infect cake with more than a healthy tablespoon of serendipity.


2 - In Which the Ending is Like an Over-Spicy Curry
Asfdfgjjkg!!! What on earth just happened? What was that? Where's it gone? Why is there a purple iguana eating my petunias?

Curry is deadly stuff. While its tingly, tangy spice is enticing and delicious and wonderful, the after effects of sudden dizziness, loss of direction and the urge to drink half of the Pacific Ocean to sate the burning in your throat are dangers you sometimes might not be willing to brave.

The Spicy Curry Ending is brilliant in the right hands. Cliffhangers, mind-bending twists in the plot, eye-popping revelations at the last moment - chuck it all in and stir in the hot sauce! Readers love to be surprised and entertained, and there's nowhere better to distress them in this manner than at the moment when they thought it was safe to get back in the water. Though you may give the reader a small heart attack, they will remember this ending and, hopefully, that strange sense in humans that being put through masses of pleasurable pain is a brilliant idea will tell them to run off and buy another of your books this moment! This is an excellent strategy particularly if you want to lure them into sequels.

Warning: application of hot sauce is not adviseable if your book is more honeyed pancake than school dinner rice. Being astonishingly clever and being absurdly contrived are worryingly close together, and the line has been somewhat rubbed by all those people running to the kitchen for an aspirin. Use with caution.


3- In Which the Ending is Like a Raisin-Filled Cookie
There is no greater treachery in the world than that of the crazed sadist who decided it would be fun to put raisins in cookies. There you are, expecting your delicious mouthful of chocolate-and-dough based goodness, your mouth waters, your eyes mist at the prospect, you sink your teeth in, waiting, waiting for the moment ... and you weep at your betrayal.

Raisin Cookie Endings are the reason why I have trust issues. The reader clings on tenaciously through the story; screaming at the characters, willing them on, cursing the cruel twists of fate, whooping ecstatically at each small victory. And then, just when you being to hope it will all be okay ... your hopes are crushed like an imploding Super Nova.

There is no better way to make a reader cry than with a Raisin Cookie Ending. Breaking the hearts of readers is no easy feat, no matter how easily they cry, with a book. You've got to draw them in, link them with back-straining detail to the world, make them care, make them get involved ... and then you have to find a way of destroying them so utterly that they won't have the strength to strangle you. It's hard work, and it can all go horribly wrong if done incorrectly (am I the only one who laughs hysterically when someone/thing I don't care about dies painfully?), but when you get it right ...

My inner villain loves this ending. My outer one adores it.


4 - In Which the Ending is Like Your Granny's Cooking
You honestly didn't believe it was food, at first. You poked it, you sniffed it, you shunted it around the plate a bit. You wondered if dotty old Granny B had got your dinner mixed up with that of her twenty-six ginger toms. You certainly didn't think it was edible.

But, to your (and the cats') astonishment ... it was. You'd never believe it if you went back in time and told yourself ten minutes previously that you would enjoy it, but you honestly did. "Don't judge a book by its cover" takes on a whole new meaning. You may not like it to start with, but after a few mouthfuls and some careful consideration - which probably doesn't involve wondering what the ingredients are, for your sanity's sake - you've decided you like it.

Granny's Cooking Endings are weird. From the outset they seem mediocre, or maybe even a bit off. Why on earth did the world-saving detective refuse to take her pay and go and live in a remote African village immunising babies against malaria? Especially as she's terrified of plane flights. But, upon more careful consideration, you see that she has made this decision because, after that last mission, she's decided that she was detecting for all the wrong reasons and would much rather spend her time doing what she believed she was trying to do - helping people. True, she leaves her fiancee, her family, her job, everything she's loved, but it's what she needs to do. And, in the end, you're happy for her.

Don't add too much theological or moral lesson-up-nose-shoving in here, though. You want to make a point, not choke someone with it.


5 - In Which the Ending Tastes of Custard
That's right, it tastes of custard. You don't know why it tastes of custard, you see no reason for it to taste of custard, and nor does anyone else. You don't even like custard.

But, whatever the reason, it's absolutely hysterical. You don't know what you're laughing at, or even why you're laughing in particular, but the Custard Ending will have you out of breath, clapping like a drugged-up seal at a Queen concert while your diaphram explodes into a thousand tiny pieces in your chest. And you'll be laughing so hard you won't feel the operation to clean up the aftermath either.

There are mulitple ingredients you can add to your ending to trigger a Custard Reponse. A deliciously ironic statement, a wriggle-inducing come-uppance, a bizarrely serendipitious happening, or (my favourite) a clincher to a book-long running joke. Terry Pratchett is the Charley-proclaimed Master of Custard Endings, though Douglas Adams, Alexandre Dumas and Jasper Fforde aren't far behind! Look them up if you want any tips on your Custard Recipe.

As a warning, this ending isn't to everyone's taste. Auntie Beryl was never one for custard, you know, and your story may wear it like a purple and orange tea cosy on its head unless the Ending has a jolly good reason to be there.

Also, watch out for custard allergies. Those can get awkward too.

***

Have I missed anything? Let me know in the comments what you think of my endings, dear readers, and feel free to add recipies of your own to the mix! The fatter the cookbook the better, after all!

Addition of alcohol to aforementioned dishes is done at the cook's discretion ;)

- Charley R

Curse your Sudden but Inevitable Betrayal! - Charley R's Guide to Traitors

Following on from - and perhaps inspired by - my last post Liar, Liar... I have decided to donate this guide to those characters that are either everyone's favourite, or the ones we want to murder with a pointy stick and a can of sardines. I'm surprised these characters aren't as popular as they could be - you'd have thought an opportunity to scare the pants off the other characters, twist your plot up like a sandy beach towel, generate huge hissy fits in the readership and whip out your very best evil laugh would be near irresistible to an author, no matter how small their evil streak.

So, in order to indulge my own (enormous) sadistic tendency, I'm going to hand this post over to the worst of the worst - the cowards, egotists, sadists and million different breeds of general git. Rotten tomatoes will also be handed out at the end of the presentation for pelting of author or persons portrayed here, depending on your preference.

Now then, dear readers, let's find out ... which one of these wonderful people would make the perfect turncoat?

***

Suspect Number One: Administration, Advice and Anarchy.

We begin our investigation into traitors with one of the simplest and most well-known archetypes - the backstabbing advisor or second-in-command. Common haunts include high fantasy, political thriller and some murder mysteries. Motives vary depending on the situation - it could be anything from an inferiority complex, thwarted or jealousy of love, a stupidly low salary, the boss' annoying habit of ruffling their hair and calling them "boy-o", or the usual warmongering, power-hungriness or mental instability.

Known aliases: Grima Wormtongue, Iago.

Pros: Politics is a brutal business, so it's hardly implausible that, sooner or later, the Head Honcho's backup might turn nasty. Motives are easy to concoct, and there's plenty of variety to be had to spice things up. They've also got the added advantage of being perfect catalysts for civil wars and mad campaigns of genocide and opression, or alternately being used as puppets by some darker Big Bad Overlord, due to their flexibility of nature and drive.

Cons: Face it, we've all seen these guys too many times to be surprised when they whip out the knives. Especially if they're portrayed in that awfully cliche'd fashion (greasy hair, pasty skin, suspicious twitch) and walk around muttering about world domination like Kreacher on crack. There's no point in having a traitor character at all if we know who it's going to be!

Final Verdicit: Easy to find, useful, but not terribly bright. More interesting candidates available.

Suspect Number Two: HE WAS THEIR FRIEND!

A close cousin of Suspect Number One, we have the backstabber who lives a little closer to home. Has been sighted on multiple occasions in almost every genre, and most motives seem to involve some incarnation of jealousy against the hero(ine) of the tale, or a feeling that working for the "other side" will fulfill the gaping hole in their lives that tells them they must be something bigger and better than everyone else.

Known aliases: Peter Pettigrew.

Pros: There's no way to break the heart of your central character (and the readership that loves them) like having them turned on by someone they thought the could trust. Unlike snaky advisors, friends are not the people we'd expect to turn traitor, so the element of surprise factor is very much in their favour. Making the readership watch a well-loved character slowly nurse their festering wounds against the hero for the big moment is also a greatly under-appreciated technique. Treacherous friends also have brilliant potential to become "grey-area" villains later in the plot and - you guessed it - their dual nature as friend and foe is yet another pointy weapon with which to torture the readers!

Cons: If the motive isn't credible for the character, the whole charade falls to pieces. Friends are harder to turn against other characters, and - sometimes - the fact that the hero(ine) refuses to take a swing at them for old time's sake can get a little grating. This sort of character is also a lot more prone to irritating "superiority" monologues than "professional" villains.

Final Verdict: Read the contract carefully before you hire this one.

Suspect Number Three: Whose Side Are You On Again?

Ah, the double agent. Both protagonist and arch-nemesis in many a spy-based thriller (or any book involving intrigue, really), working out where this lot stand is one of the most entertaining pursuits of any reader. No matter what you see them doing - chatting with Mr Nice, helping Mr Nasty pin up the blueprints of his doomsday machine or singing to Britney Spears in the shower - nothing they do will tell you anything more about them. To trust .... or not to trust?

Known aliases: Severus Snape, Varys the Spider.

Pros: The sheer ambuguity and lack of certainty with a double agent character is their greatest attraction. Who knows if they're double-crossing, or even triple-crossing, the hero? Are they bluffing? Are they lying? What is the hidden meaning behind those glittering eyes? What's that shiny thing lurking up their sleeve? Red herrings are a double agent's best friend, and sometimes you don't even need to tell the reader definitively who's side they're on at all, but let their actions eventually show their loyalties ... or lack of them.

Cons: Too many signs in a short space of time may confuse your reader more than intrigue them, but the absolute worst thing about a double agent is how easy it is to make them contrived. Their motives can be incredibly hard to fathom and gradually show to the readers without exposition, and there's nothing worse than setting a character up beautifully and then, suddenly "Oh, it turns out they're on OUR side all along!" and then rattle off some very tenuous links to one side or another. They're complex people who require incredibly careful planning - probably more so than any other sort of traitor.

Final Verdict: Spectacular agents, but watch your back. You never know when you might find something sticking out of it ...

Suspect Number Four: The Voices Are Telling Me To Kill You...
Ooer, anybody got a straight-jacket? It's always the crazy ones who'll bite you in the butt at the last minute. And they needn't even be that crazy - in fact, the majority of "mad" traitors aren't the types who run around with chickens on their heads claiming to the the Queen of The Math Fairies. You'll find them just about everywhere, living normal, or next to normal, lives, looking just like you or me ... until you scratch beneath the surface. Deluded, desperate or downtrodden ... and, maybe, just a tiny bit doolally.
Known Aliases: Murtagh Morzansson, Petyr Littlefinger, Jaime Lannister.


Pros: Though it may sound a little strange, the damaged traitors are often the most likely to be the ones the readers will feel sorry for. Come on, wouldn't your heart ache if you knew the only reason this character was doing the horrible things they do was because they honestly believed it would be for the best, or because they've become to utterly broken by their lives that, to them, this is the only logical course of action? Villains are clever, rememeber, and they find nothing more enjoyable than finding weaknesses and twisting or forcing people into their service. In the case of Murtagh up there, he didn't have any choice when he was forced to betray his half-brother and fight for an evil king. Can you really call him a traitor for that? As for Jaime, well, wouldn't you finish of Mad King Aerys in those circumstances, too?


Cons: One word: angst. If your traitor spends more time bewailing what has become of them than acting on their orders / beliefs / crazed desires, you know they've been drinking too much coffee. Using this approach simply to get your character a sympathy vote does NOT count as complete justification for what they do - odds are they DO have an alternative, if they're really that noble. Even if it does involve death.


Final Verdict: As long as they take their meds, and you don't let them read the newspaper, they ought to operate just fine.

***

Of course, there are a multitude of other variants and degrees of treachery that this world of thugs and thieves can throw at us, but it's good to have an idea of alternatives. No matter how iffy their morals, remember that even sneaks like these are people too, and their motives will be different depending on their character, circumstances, and whatever horrors you plan to inflict on them in the course of the story.

Mixing and matching different aspects of villain models can also create a more dynamic character - what about a supposedly treacherous advisor acting as a double agent? What about the hero(ine)'s best friend being exploited and twisted by the villain until they're tricked into betraying their friend?

Much like methods of assassination, the possibilities really are endless.

- Charley R

Singin' In The Rain - Charley R's Guide to Weather Patterns

Perhaps I’m not a great one to talk about this, living as I do on an island famed for damp, fog, torrents of rain and the constant smell of wet sheep, but I dare anyone to tell me it’s not worth talking about. If setting is a crucial part of the story, then there can be few things more crucial to a setting than – you guessed it – the mood of good ol’ Mother Nature.

I’m fond of watching a good movie now and again, and one trend that I notice again and again is the use of atmospheric weather, especially at the start of the film, and during key plot moments. It just wouldn’t be as creepy watching the Nazgul stalking through the Shire on the backs of their daemonic horses if they were prancing through fields full of songbirds in the blazing sun, would it?

It’s the same principle in writing. Weather’s a fantastic scene setter, and a wonderful vehicle to tell the readers more about where your story is going to take place. This is all too true in fantasy, especially, as the worlds are usually the author’s own creation, and the read knows only what they can see on a map. Unfortunately, like all forms of great power (don’t you just love being able to turn on the storm clouds whenever you want?) it also comes with a great responsibility … to do it properly!

My younger self was horribly guilt of abusing this power - yet another reason why current me finds reading her old stories so utterly cringe-inducing. Seriously, I must have had some whacked out microclimates going on to have a snowstorm blow in on a day I’d previously described as “glorious midsummer”.

So, without further ado, here are some little tips from me on how to – quite literally – control the weather:


1) Confounded Wet Map! – Where Are We Again?
Maps and weather patterns go hand in glove – and having one will usually lead to the indispensability of the other. For the rewrite of my Aeserion Trilogy, I’m working out a sensible sketch where I can see all the key elements without overcomplicating it and confusing myself – things like mountain ranges, flat plains, forests, deserts, major cities and other geographical landmarks. Not only does it make drawing a route easier, but I can know for a fact that, when walking home at midnight in late autumn, odds we’re going to get wet if you live in the north. Sorry Rin!

2) Paddle Faster, I Hear Banjoes! – Rowing One’s Boat Down the River.
Believe it or not, those boring Geography lessons you had on rivers in Year Six are, in fact, going to come in useful. Rivers and lakes tend to run in distinctive patterns and move differently according to the location. The issue of source and endpoint is also one to keep an eye on – having a random river reaching only from one side of your plateau for the other is a pretty good indication that the weather gods have got tipsy on the ambrosia again.

If your plot involves a long journey, odds are your travellers are going to spend a good deal of time following rivers because of their use as a directional aid and – critically – source of drinking water. Placement of cities and livelihoods of some towns will also be affected by this, so I’d seriously recommend brushing up before “jumping in the deep end”, as it were.

3) Ain’t No Mountain High Enough – Anyone Here got Vertigo?
Anyone who’s ever been skiing in a high-altitude mountain range will know about the effect their height has on the weather in the surrounding area. Mountainous areas tend to be mistier and damper, while areas beyond will, subsequently, be dryer than an area without the barrier of the mountains. Weather also changes fast the higher up you go – remind your intrepid climber to pack a wooly scarf just in case! And remember, snow won’t necessarily be on the peaks all year round. Learn from Disney’s mistakes!

4) The Weather for Today: Cloudy, With a Chance of Flying Platypi.
Call me over-organised, but I’ve already drawn up a document to help me keep track of the weather through the course of my Aeserion Trilogy. Clouds and sunny spots tend to move in patterns – watch your evening news for the proof – so I found that pinning down exactly what it had been like allowed me not only to keep it realistically consistent, but also gave me leeway to build up towards either a sunny day or a burst of heavy rain or storm, rather than just having the event appear out of the blue. If you know you want a torrential rainstorm on the day of your MC’s sister’s wedding, then – like bridezilla herself – you’ve got to do the preparation!

5) Nooooooooo! – Cue the Waterworks.
It’s tempting, isn’t it? You’ve just executed a brilliantly heartbreaking scene, and you want to make sure everybody knows how sad it is. So, what’s the best way to let the world know that today is a sad day? Turn on the rainstorm, of course!

Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold it right there, tiger. Have you not read these past few points? Like everything in a good novel, there’s no use in doing something like that unless it’s for more than just a personal desire for aesthetic effect. The scene should be sad enough to have the audience sobbing in its own right, and if it isn’t, then whipping out the awful cliché of supporting weather is only going to have a detrimental effect on your story. While the weather is a good way to set a mood, it should be the event, and the way you’ve written it, that really gets through to the reader. Save the rainstorm for the Ark.

***

Hopefully these tips will be of use to some of you – I certainly wish I’d had the thought processes to do half the things I talk about up here in my younger years. And, as an extra help to you all, I’ve put a link to each of these “Guide” posts over on the right in the side bar under “Charley’s Writerly Guides”. Make use of them as much or as little as you like, but I do hope that, even if you don’t like them particularly, you can bring yourself to read them just to see that I know how to correctly use the plural of “platypus”, haha!

- Charley R

"Hook, Line and Stinker" - Charley's Guide to Cliches, and How To Avoid Them

There is nothing better than being immersed in a beautifully crafted scene. The words flow seamlessly, leaving us revelling in the beauty of the descriptions and wishing that the mouth-wateringly delicious dish being shared by the characters would somehow materialise into our empty fingers. For a little while, the real world fades away, and we are where all readers love to be - somewhere else.

Then, out of nowhere, comes a glerk! and we come crashing back into the real world, bottoms numb and brains slightly confused by our long absence. Our eyebrows rise, Spock-style, into mid-air, and we scan the page, looking for whatever little demonic creature it was that tugged us from our reverie.

And there it is. Sitting in the middle of the page, an ugly little lump, a grouchy little boil that, no matter how much we glare and snarl and pelt it with imaginary pointy things, continues to irritate us simply by its existence.

I speak, of course, of cliches.

Whether you read a lot, a little, or - like me - too much for most people to consider you healthy, odds are that we've all met a cliche somewhere. Heck, we've probably even met the same ones, whether it be in a critique of a philosophical passage by Plato, a bodice-ripping historical thriller, or even the prologue to your  Geography textbook. You know the types: "stick out like a sore thumb", "in the nick of time", "by the skin of your teeth", "in the same boat" .... dare I go on?

It seems odd that, no matter how many times we tell ourselves that we like things to be original - either as writer or reader - we always find ourselves coming across these little demons. They have the unfortunate property of sticking in one's brain like an embarrassing birthday memory, and - I can verify this from personal experience - whenever one is having trouble describing a situation, they seem to be the first thing that pops into one's head.

Here's a Top Ten list of the most annoying cliches found in literature today, compiled on Squidoo.com from a list sent in by readers:

• all walks of life
• at all times
• leave no stone unturned
• lock, stock, and barrel
• calm before the storm
• long arm of the law
• never a dull moment
• cry over spilled milk
• patience of Job
• paying the piper
• give the devil his due
• selling like hot cakes
• hook, line, and sinker
• stick out like a sore thumb
• in the nick of time
• winds of change
• in the same boat

Familiar faces, non?

Pity really, as they're so easy to avoid. Here are three simple steps that I would recommend to anyone struggling to rid themselves of those hellish little hackneys:

Step One: Look Before You Leap.
When you come to one of those "umm..." moments, stop and think carefully about what you want to say - don't just type the first thing that comes into your head. Think about what you really want to say, and odds are it's nothing like the old chestnut that's just trotted off your tongue. It may look a bit funny on the page but, trust me, it's always a ten-tonne-truck better than a cliche.

Step Two: Here Be Dictionaries.
Vocabulary is vital, not just to fiction writers, but to anyone who's ever had to write a school essay, university thesis, or a letter to aged old Aunt Mable saying thank you for the crocheted lumpy thing she sent you for Christmas last year. However, voracious and mind-blowingly intelligent though you may be, even you probably aren't aware of all the phenomenally intriguing phrases you can find in the dust-bunny infested Oxford English Dictionary and Thesaurus sitting on your shelf. So, from time to time, pick it up and have a look. Of course, this doesn't mean you have to read it from end to end - it's not a thrilling read.
Don't ask me how I know that ...

Additional note: Thesauruses (Thesauri?) are also brilliant for this. If you're looking for an alternative for a specific word, rather than something further removed, they really are the writer's bread and butter.

Step Three: Do the Pratchett!
Any fans of the ever-prolific and uber-awesome Sir Terry Pratchett will know what I mean when I say that he is a true inspiration when it comes to original prose. If you haven't read any of his books then, as well as bludgeoning you over the head and demanding that you do, I will also make a point of showing you what a fantastic mind he has for avoiding cliches, even in the trickest situation.

But, if Pratchett isn't your thing, why not look elsewhere. Par example, the late and awesome Douglas Adams wrote this little dandy, which is one of my favourite descriptive phrases of all time:
The ship hung in the air in much the same way bricks don't.
See?

Depending on the tone of your book, you may or may not be able to be quite as outlandish, but it's worth bearing in mind that the beaten track is not the only way to describe something. Try looking at it from a different angle, try stating what something isn't like rather than what it is like ... or just make it up. That's always fun too :)

*

Hope that helps! Anyway, I'd best be off. You guys have a fantastic day and, remember, avoid cliches ... like the plague! *insert deranged cackle here*

- Charley R

I Got The Power! - Charley's Guide to Creating Gifted Characters

Powerful characters are a pain. It's a bald truth, but one I dare any author to try and deny. How many times have we read a book and thought, "Heck, is there anything you can't do?" or maybe "Why don't you just use those powers of yours and solve the situation, you dingbat!" I might mention Eragon and Name of the Wind as two perpetrators of such activity.

However, this last month, I have discovered a lot more sympathy for authors with such characters. You may laugh at me when I say that characters who are capable of things way beyond normality are a lot harder to work with than ones who can't. And it's not just because you have no idea if what they do would actually work.

You'd think there wouldn't be much difference between a character who earns or discovers their power during the course of the story and one who has them to start with. But there is, and it's huge. Characters who have grown up with their abilities simply have it - like you or I grow up with a stomach or a pair of ears. They know what they can do, and if they can't use their powers freely, then they're probably more than used to the strategies of hiding them. But it's different for "breakthrough" characters. They have to adapt to a whole new lifestyle, and a whole new list of dangers and perils, both personal and on a grand scale. And it's these guys that are the hard ones. Keeping them from turning into Super Sue or Whingeinator 5000 is difficult, and even once they've got to grip with their new state, keeping them sympathetic is a whole new kettle of fish for the author.

So, here's my strategy for keeping your uber-powered pet on its leash. And not dying painfully in the process.

*

STEP ONE: PICK THE VICTIM

Before you even start, it's highly advisable to get to know your character very well before they obtain their new gifts. This way, you have a strong foundation from which you can ascertain their reaction to the change, and how they will behave in the early stages. For example, my own breakthrough, Talisien, is fundamentally a cautious, slightly timid character. Bearing this in mind, I can be very sure that he will avoid using his gifts where he can, because by nature he will worry about causing damage and/or making a fool of himself. However, if your character is bolder and more sure of what they were doing, they might experiment a little, fling about a few ideas, and possibly cause some hilarious carnage in the process. 

On a similar note, if you know the character well enough, you can keep an eye out for tell-tale signs that they are not behaving as they ought to do. For example, if Talisien suddenly started strutting about with enough confidence to take up a Boeing 737, I'd know I'd gone wrong somewhere. Powers can change a person's perception of themselves, but I doubt very much that, unless it is in the specific nature of the gift to do so, they would change quite that fast.

STEP TWO: WHAT DOES THIS BUTTON DO?

Be very specific with the gift itself, and exactly what it entails. As a person who likes planning, I found it very helpful to create a spider diagram where I could pin down the particulars. Finding the limits and shortcomings of each gift - for example, as Talisien's power is intrinsic and is operated by sheer willpower, I doubt he would be very much inclined to unleash enough to do damage to himself. The fact that it is also very much a self-regulated gift would also lead to it exhausting him, as it would require a vast amount of mental discipline to keep it in line. He'll have fun learning to sit on his temper to keep his gift from making use of the outlet, I can tell you!

On a more practical note, keying-up on the gift's entailments also prevents the author from straying into the temptation of simply chucking out a new ability for the character in every tight spot, and subsequently over-powering them. While, sometimes, it is fun to have the character discover something new at a key moment, overusing this plot device will thoroughly frustrate your reader, and horribly undermine the credibility of the danger and struggle in your plot.

STEP THREE: SPARKS WILL FLY...

The "transition scene" of the book - where the character discovers / is given / somehow gets hold of their new talents, is exceedingly important, but also very hard to get right. However, with the preparation done in Steps One and Two, it is, really, a matter of sticking the two together and then, bit by bit, working out the logistics of what happens next. Here are a few key questions you might like to run by, as examples:

- Is it a painful experience? 

- Is the character really prepared for what they are about to do? 

- Will there be some sort of post-event trauma that may knock them out or exhaust them in some way? 

- Will their lack of experience result in some sort of accident? What will the effects of that be?

- Is there anyone there (a mentor, a friend, a foe, a passing hedgehog) who will help or hinder them before, during or after the event?

Of course, you can add your own questions depending on the specifics of your scene. But, remember, it is VERY IMPORTANT that the scene can continue to let the reader suspend their disbelief. It's a brilliant opportunity to wow the readers, and they might feel a little let down without a little whizzbang and excitement, but be careful not to overdo it. Be sure what you want to happen, and keep an eye out for anything erroneous. 

STEP FOUR: THE LONG HAUL

Something that I've noticed among highly powered characters is that their gift doesn't seem to have much of a long-term effect on them. I've always thought this was slightly odd - surely living with something as monumental as a supernatural gift, no matter how large or small, would change the way someone behaved or acted over time? Some may do this more than others, but I think it's important to remember that, essentially, your character is a person (maybe not human, but the idea stands) too. Especially if your character is young - teenagers especially are going through a massive period of change, both in their bodies and in their minds, and the addition of a gift to that is bound to have some effect on what happens to them. Also, think about the repercussions of the past:

- The results of their immediate experience with their gift.

- Changes they have to make to their lives or general practices to learn to control and handle their gift safely.

- Any accidents or traumas that may have occurred in the "teething" stage - i.e. the period when they were still adjusting to the gift, and perhaps being taught or teaching themselves its limits and dangers.

- Do other people perceive them any differently than they did before the change? What effect has this had on their view of themselves and others?

I found this stage particularly helpful working with Talisien. His story spans several hundred years (the lifespan of his people is whacked out, long story), and he obtains his powers while he is still relatively young. However, as he was born with weak muscles in his legs, unhealthy lungs and a distinct lack of any form of male aggression, the transition from being the weakling to suddenly having massive amounts of power at his fingertips was a hard one for him - especially when it came to avoiding the temptation to teach a painful lesson to those who had derided him. He didn't always succeed, with some rather messy results. Also, as his power is almost a sentient force in itself, he's hardened and honed his mind in order to keep it in check. This has had a very drastic effect on his behaviour around others - he's not so empathetic as he was, and he finds it hard to relate to people due to the drastic changes he's had to make to keep himself under control. He's a changed person, and it's had both good and bad effects: he's the terror of his enemies, and he's managed to avert his kingdom from disaster, but he fears losing himself to the "mind" of his gift, and being abandoned by those he cares for.

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But what about you guys? Is there anything you think I've missed, or a tip you think it might help people to know? And what about your gifted characters? Is there anything about them that you would especially like to mention about them? How are they using their gifts? Is it working, or has everything gone down the metaphorical drain?

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go and persuade Talisien that I'm not actually trying to kill him ... yet.