Ten questions to ask a friend who just read your novel

azriona:

mordinwrites:

Found this article. Found it incredibly helpful. Be sure to go read the full story, but these are the ten questions the author (Lydia Netzer) covers in it:

1. At what point did you feel like “Ah, now the story has really begun!” 
2. What were the points where you found yourself skimming? 
3. Which setting in the book was clearest to you as you were reading it? Which do you remember the best? 
4. Which character would you most like to meet and get to know? 
5. What was the most suspenseful moment in the book? 
6. If you had to pick one character to get rid of, who would you axe? 
7. Was there a situation in the novel that reminded you of something in your own life? 
8. Where did you stop reading, the first time you cracked open the manuscript? (Can show you where your first dull part is, and help you fix your pacing.) 
9. What was the last book you read, before this? And what did you think of it? (This can put their comments in context in surprising ways, when you find out what their general interests are. It might surprise you.) 
10. Finish this sentence: “I kept reading because…”

Some of this could be easily adapted into roleplay critiques, though it’s primary use is, of course, novel writing.

Oh, I like these.

Ten questions to ask a friend who just read your novel

sarahtaylorgibson:

audacityinblack:

sarahtaylorgibson:

Writing a novel when you imagine all you stories in film format is hard because there’s really no written equivalent of “lens flare” or “slow motion montage backed by Gregorian choir”

You can get the same effect of a lens flare with close-detail descriptions, combined with breaks to new paragraphs.

Your slow-motion montage backed by a Gregorian choir can be done with a few technques that all involve repetition.

First is epizeuxis, the repeating of a word for emphasis.

Example:

Falling. Falling. Falling. There was nothing to keep Marie from plunging into the rolling river below. She could only hope for a miracle now, that she would come out alive somehow despite a twenty-foot drop into five-foot-deep water.

Then there’s anaphora, where you write a number of phrases with the same words at the beginning.

There were still mages out there living in terror of shining steel armor emblazoned with the Sword of Mercy.

There were still mages out there being forced by desperation into the clutches of demons.

There were mages out there being threatened with Tranquility as
punishment for their disobedience, and the threats were being made good
upon.

Mages who had attempted to flee, but knew nothing of the outside
world and were forced to return to their prison out of need for
sustenance and shelter.

Mages who only desired to find the families they were torn from.

Mages who only wanted to see the sun.

This kind of repetition effectively slows the pace of your writing and puts the focus on that small scene. That’s where you get your slow pan. The same repetition also has a subtle musicality to it depending on the words you use. That’s where you get the same vibe as you might get from a Gregorian choir.

Damn I made relatable reblog- bait post and writer Tumblr went hard with it. This is legitimately very good advice.