Tag: Writing Advice

The Pros and Perils of the Pantser

~ Jamal H. Goodwin Jr. ~ Leave a comment

One thing I’ve learned recently, during my practice of writing one flash fiction every week, is that being a “pantser” comes with its own unique challenges. For those who don’t know, a pantser is a writer who begins a story without outlining it. They are the opposite of plotters, who always pre-plan their stories before writing it.

On a given day being a pantser, my word-inventory might be strong: I’ll feel warmed up to create beautiful descriptions or narration, with stunning literary devices. But without a vision of where I’m taking my story, I cannot write a single sentence, unless I want a speculative piece, maybe.

So I sit at my page and generate visions on the fly—how many characters to include, what setting, theme, etc.—and that eats up writing time. I’ve had quick brainstorm sessions before, don’t get me wrong, and being a pantser feels more free than being a plotter, having to follow the rules of a rigid outline. But if I brainstorm sloppily, I also risk gluing cliches together to make a story.

Here’s an example:

(Bland brainstorm session) A cigarette dropped in woods causes fire.

(Effective brainstorm session) A blow-torch is used in woods to reveal secret bunker under the foliage.

To get that uniqueness takes more mental effort. But if you make it, it’s definitely worth it.

Subverting Expectations on The Visionary Level

~ Jamal H. Goodwin Jr. ~ Leave a comment

Life Is Larger Than What We See In Our Heads

If I said to you, “Look! It’s a trucker!” odds are, before you turned your head to look, your mind would conjure the image of a male. You’d be less likely to imagine a female tricler, or a trucker with vitaligo, or transgender trucker, even though all those things are valid and exist in thr ereal world.

In the real world, we walk around with subconscious biases for how things ought to look and sound, and this may be based on how things commonly are, or based on stereotypes that are far off from reality. Regardless, the biases exist within us and effect our expectations and therefore how we interact with the world.

So when we see the unexpected, say, a female trucker, we are momentarily shocked—we’re put in a situation we aren’t usually in, which forces us to be in the present moment. There’s no subconscious pattern created for novel situations. And following said experience, we’re more likely to remember it since required more brain power to process and navigate.

The Unexpected Can Enhance Your Writing

The principle of the unexpected—of people and situations that don’t neatly fit into our common ideas—this principle can be used when crafting stories. Concepting a story where a belly dancer is revealed to be a man, or a story where the setting is described as a house but is revealed to be a dungeon—these stories shock readers, make the narrative more salient in their minds. By practicing your skills as a Visionary, someone who plays around with the various ways a single story can be presented, you, too, can create plots that hook readers.

If in a story I say there’s a waitress, a generic image will come to mind. But if I have a story set in China with a Muslim waitress wearing a hijab, you’ll see something more vivid. And uncommon. Questions will come to mind: how is the woman speaking Chinese? Was she born there? How unique!

Subverting expectations can have splendid results. When creating a plot for your next story, try experimenting with this.

The Visionary and The Writer

~ Jamal H. Goodwin Jr. ~ 1 Comment

The Visionary. To me, a Visionary is someone who sees the entire picture at once and can intuit numerous, distinct ways of presenting it. As a writing professor in college put it, before you begin writing draft two of a story, you should reflect on the story within the story.

Is such-and-such really a short fiction about a home invader, or is it actually a story about a negligent father who suffers for not paying attention?

Also, consider the scenes we don’t get to see in a character’s life. There is the story the reader has privilege to experience, and then there are events that characters experience (for them in turtle-paced real time) but we don’t see or sometimes even hear about.

An example would be a story that chooses to show a character’s morning routine, their commute to work or school, a scene while their at work, and then it’ll skip to the next day, without showing their commute home or what they did that night.

And even if we got scenes in a character’s home, their commute, work/school, their commute back home, and dinner, those scenes take place within a few pages, not several hours like for us in the real world.

AI-Created with Microsoft Copilot

A Visionary looks at these reader-hidden details and can add them to a story to enhance it. A Visionary can alter or cut scenes. A Visionary is an excellent developmental editor. Essentially, a Visionary is one who practices the art of plotting, outlining, character creation, and theme.

Visionaries are necessary for earth-shattering storytelling. A favorite example of mine is season 3 of the Marvel show Daredevil. Not only did each episode leave me hooked, but also the conclusion was unpredictable. I also felt this in the prison story arc in the novel “Live By Night” by Dennis Lehane.

AI-Created with Microsoft Copilot

The Visionary paints the most excellent blueprint. Elegant. Immaculate. But it is the Writer who assembles the conception. Brick by brick. Word by word. And while the Writer must scoot up close and only see pieces of the blueprint at a time, only the Writer can put the house together, can add the style. The literary devices. The sentence length.

An example would be the short stories and microfiction of Lydia Davis. They often have simple plots, but it’s her masterful sentences that makes readers chuckle or awe at her work.

To be a fiction writer, one must balance visionary thinking and granular thinking. Be sure to find joy in both.

How to Say Something Unique – The Parts of Speech

~ Jamal H. Goodwin Jr. ~ Leave a comment

One of my favorite parts of writing is creating awesome sentences. To really get the reader unexpecting on each line—to the point where they’re hooked cuz they just HAVE to read the next line—you have to break some conventions.

Here’s a convention: the parts of speech. Nouns are nouns, verbs are verbs, etc. But it doesn’t have to be this way.

I mean, you could sneak inside a building, but you could also patience your way to the front of the line. And you get the same results—one’s just more fun better than the other.

Similarly, you could skip school, but you could also skip eating (this second example uses what’s called a gerrund, which is when an “-ing” verb functions as a noun).

There are many parts of speech and many ways to mess around with them. What will you come up with?

The Joyous Islands of Exposition and Narration (or, You Can’t Swim Through Description Forever)

~ Jamal H. Goodwin Jr. ~ Leave a comment

Looking at my current short story projects, I’ve realized some are all bite and no bark. In a few of these stories, I thrust my protagonist into action on page one, and other than their internal reactions to what’s going on, I don’t showcase their reflection on the past or their hopes for the future; nor do I show their abstract thoughts of the present. Ah, Dialogue and Description, you wiley beasts—you’ve overtaken my prose!

All is well. Well, all will be well. I’m going to go back and, between some paragraphs, add character thoughts. If you’re in a similar boat, I’d advise you add some exposition and narration too.

Here’s a good reason why. I’ve got a story going where my protagonist ends up in another world. Pretty crazy, right? But right now I just have him walking around and interacting with stuff, instead of using narration to freeze time and have him react to the strangeness of things—what would his mother think if she were there? And oh, what is his mother like? Even if we never met her, exposition like this enriches a story, and taking the time to narrate such details gives healthy space between bustling description or long stretches of dialogue.

I’m gonna go make these changes. Happy writing!