#writerlife

When I was a young writer, I was told that I often started my sentences with "there is/there was/there are." I was told to eliminate those as much as possible.

I couldn't believe how often I used them. My first novel was completely littered with them.

I learned to diversify and grow my use of verbs. Instead of the state-of-being verbs, like "is" which isn't very descriptive at all, I started using stronger verbs.

Instead of writing "There were a bunch of trees on the hill" I wrote "A cluster of trees towered over the hill."

"Towered" is a much stronger verb than "Is"

FEAR

DEFINITION: To be afraid of; to expect threat or danger

PHYSICAL SIGNALS AND BEHAVIORS:

Face turning ashen, white, pallid Hair lifting on the nape and arms Body odor, cold sweats Clammy hands Trembling lips and chin Tendons standing out in the neck, a visible pulse Elbows pressing into the sides, making one's body as small as possible Freezing, feeling rooted to the spot Rapid blinking Tight shoulders Staring but not seeing, eyes shut or crying Hands jammed into armpits or self-hugging Breath bursting in and out Leg muscles tightening, the body ready to run Looking all around, especially behind A shrill voice Lowering the voice to a whisper Keeping one's back to a wall or corner Shaking uncontrollably Gripping something, knuckles going white Stiff walking, the knees locking Beads of sweat on the lip or forehead Grabbing onto someone Eyes appearing damp and overly bright Stuttering and mispronouncing words, tremors in the voice Jerky movements, squirming Licking the lips, gulping down water Sprinting or running Sweeping a hand across the forehead to get rid of sweat Gasping and expelling one's breath as if pained Uncontrollable whimpering Pleading, talking to oneself Flinching at noises

INTERNAL SENSATIONS:

An inability to speak Shakiness in the limbs Holding back a scream or cry Heartbeat racing, nearly exploding Dizziness, weakness in the legs and knees A loosening of the bladder Chest pain Holding one's breath, gulping down breaths to stay quiet A stomach that feels rock hard Hyper-sensitivity to touch and sound Adrenaline spikes

MENTAL RESPONSES:

Wanting to flee or hide The sensation of things moving too quickly to process Images of what-could-be flashing through the mind Flawed reasoning Jumping to a course of action without thinking things through A skewed sense of time

CUES OF ACUTE OR LONG TERM FEAR:

Uncontrollable trembling, fainting Insomnia Heart giving out Panic attacks, phobias Exhaustion Depression Substance abuse Withdrawing from others Tics (a repetitive grimace, a head twitch, talking to oneself) Resistance to pain from rushing adrenaline

MAY GROW INTO:

ANGER, TERROR, PARANOIA, PANIC, DREAD

CUES OF SUPPRESSED FEAR:

Keeping silent Denying fear through diversion or topic change Turning away from the cause of the fear Attempting to keep one's voice light A watery smile that's forced into place Masking fear with a reactive emotion (anger or frustration) False bravado Over-indulgence in a habit (nail biting, lip biting, scratching the skin raw) A joking tone, but the voice cracks

MAY TAPER-OFF TO:

AGITATION, OVERWHELMED, WARINESS, UNEASE

POWER VERBS:

WIPs: Dude, she's still working on us. Wait your goddamned turn!

Shiny new fic idea strolls in: Oh, hello, I am here to stay now.

Me at work:

Alright, so we all love a good angsty moment, right? That scene where everything feels like it's falling apart, emotions are running high, and your character's world is just burning around them. But… writing those scenes without slipping into "oh no, not this again" territory? Yeah, it can be tricky.

Angst is powerful, no doubt, but it can get cringey fast if you’re not careful. So, how do you make your readers feel the hurt without rolling their eyes at the drama? Here are some thoughts (because we’ve all been there)

1. Keep It Real No one—and I mean no one—has perfectly poetic, life-altering thoughts while they’re in the middle of an emotional meltdown. If your character’s going through it, make sure their reactions feel raw, maybe even messy. Show us their confusion, anger, and fear in a way that makes sense for them. Don’t just throw in a monologue about the meaning of life or have them collapse in a rainstorm. (Unless it’s really necessary. Then, okay, fine, but be careful!)

2. The Little Details Hit Harder Sometimes, it’s the small, unexpected details that pack the biggest punch. Instead of a dramatic sobbing fit, maybe your character’s hands shake as they try to make a cup of tea or they notice a tiny crack in the wall that they never noticed before because they’re spiraling. It’s those little, relatable moments that make the angst feel real, not overdone.

3. Embrace the Quiet Moments It doesn’t always have to be yelling or crying to show that your character is struggling. Silence can be loud. Sometimes it’s the things unsaid that carry the most weight. Maybe your character withdraws, or they’re stuck staring at the ceiling for hours. A pause in the conversation, a long sigh, or a blank stare can be just as gut-wrenching as full-on breakdowns.

4. Avoid the Obvious Clichés (If You Can) Okay, this one’s a bit tricky. It’s not that you can’t ever have rain scenes or broken mirrors (I see you, “symbolism”), but if you’re gonna go there, give it a twist. Maybe instead of staring out a window during a storm, they’re in a brightly lit, overly cheerful room that just doesn’t match how they’re feeling. Play with contrasts. Make the environment work against their mood rather than mirroring it perfectly.

5. Let the Angst Breathe Don’t feel like you need to dump all the angst in one scene. Let it stretch out a bit. Give your characters space to process (or fail to process) over time. A lot of times, readers will feel more for a character who’s quietly unraveling over several chapters than one who explodes all at once. It makes the eventual breakdown hit harder when it does happen.

6. People Are Weird When They’re Hurting They joke at the wrong times. They say things they don’t mean. They shut people out, or they get way too clingy. Don’t be afraid to make your characters react in unexpected or contradictory ways—people do that when they’re feeling too much. Let your characters be complicated, because real people are.

What’s the line you’ve written that still makes you smile when you think about it? Everyone has that one sentence that just hits right.

Good literature is a good observation of one's surroundings. Of the people around you and events that take place within your society.

Hemingway argues a fundamental point when creating characters that feel 'alive. ' It's not about what you want (as a writer) or where the story must go; it's about what the characters (people) would do if they truly existed at that moment.

Hemingway continues:

"A character is a caricature. If a writer can make people live, there may be no great characters in his book, but it is possible that his book will remain as a whole; as an entity; as a novel."

Hemingway emphasizes the importance of having people in your story, rather than characters, criticizing the latter as caricatured and exaggerated. He says: "If the people the writer is making talk of old masters; of music; of modern painting; of letters; or of science then they should talk of those subjects in the novel. If they do not talk of those subjects and the writer makes them talk of them he is a faker, and if he talks about them himself to show how much he knows then he is showing off."

Hemingway says your character shouldn't be a doll and you, the master. They should express themselves the way they want to. If you force it, you're faking it and risk creating a one-dimensional character. If a writer goes on and on about the character because he knows more than the reader, he's showboating his pretension and nothing else.

"No matter how good a phrase or a simile he may have if he puts it in where it is not absolutely necessary and irreplaceable he is spoiling his work for egotism."

He ends with: