You may be an excellent facilitator, good with blogs, and effective with one-on-one clients – but writing a book is another whole way of reaching an audience.
The content of your self-help book will likely contain a range of ingredients, a mix of material, so it's important to understand the role of each ingredient.
The self-help genre, also known as personal development, is as popular as ever with readers, and also with writers. The more you understand about the genre, the better.
A writing mentor can help you understand your work and your practice in new ways, and help you navigate the often tricky emotional terrain of writing a book.
Theme. Plotlines. Characters. Backstory. Point of view. The artistry in developing work for publication lies in understanding how these elements work together to create your story design.
The central event is the one event the book cannot do without; it is central to and creates the story. Without it, the book collapses like a house of cards.
To develop your work and create a strong story structure, it is crucial to understand the major dramatic question that lies at the heart of your story.
When you are crafting your ending, think about whether you have said what you wanted to say. Are there any loose ends? Are there story questions posed that aren’t answered?
When you choose multiple points of view, be mindful of the types of relationships you are building between the reader and the characters, and their purpose.
Listening to the written word helps us understand the effects we create through word choices. Read your own work aloud. Edit with your ears. You'll ‘hear’ things that you may not ‘see’ on the page.
The function and roles of subplots are important principles to understand, but there is no golden rule. That’s what makes the creative endeavour of writing fiction so alluring and at the same time so terrifying.
If scenes are the building blocks of story, summary is the mortar that holds the scenes together, and occasionally the keystone piece that supports the structure.
Recently I’ve been prompted to consider why a fat, pink heart may say more to us than the word ‘love’ or ‘xx’, and what this tells us about writing good dialogue.
