Don't Lose The Plot
Think of being unable to tell someone what your work-in-progress is about as a seriously suspicious mole; a flashing warning sign. The ability to succinctly explain the main drive is important -- mostly for yourself, to keep you on track as you scribe away. Whether your style is Southern -- with tons of Spanish moss draped over every curvy line (ala Faulkner), or bare bones tersely measured sentences (like Hemingway’s), having a concise destination in mind limits a lot of tragic meandering. For everyone involved.
Don't Write Like You Are Being Paid By The Word
Minutia is draining. And minutia off-topic borders on the unforgiveable. If you're penning a romance, you better have a very good reason for including a three-page description of a car engine.
(Given your genre just saying the thing purred is probably enough.)
Likewise, sentences built on synonyms are annoying.
AF.
'The house on the hill was dark, foreboding, and threatening.'
Got it.
There is a difference between devoting space to a recurring motif and say, obnoxious chanting. If there's no reason to keep saying the same thing: stop. Think of your prose like the art in your house. You wouldn't put up an identical print every few feet. (I suppose an argument could be made that scenic wall paper is the exception to this rule. Maybe. ) To be clear though, I'm not talking about the use of poetic refrains. Adrian McKinty's lyrical repetition of his Irish protagonist's under-chassis bomb checks whenever he climbs into the car is an act that reverberates as a sad reminder of the novel’s setting during The Troubles. Robert Galbraith (aka JK Rowling) in the Strike series masterfully incorporates the chronic discomfort of her character into the quotidian. It waxes and wanes, the throbbing caused by the missing limb occasionally taking center stage before fading into the background with proper treatment. A part of who the man is but not all that he is, the phantom pain serves as a unique identifier.
Generally, though, if your character is messy show different manifestations of the trait. Casually mention the suspect smudges on the bathroom light switch; include his boss's complaints about rumpled attire, describe how his SUV still smells like the long-gone family dog (who was able to nose open the kitchen door because of all the junk that got in the way of it latching.) These details are consistent and unsurprising. On the other hand, if the guy suddenly starts alphabetizing his spices and polishing the silver, there needs to be a bloody good reason.
Don't Get Too Cozy With Adjectives, Similes And Metaphors
‘He ran like a fast puma into the room.’ vs ‘He catapulted into the room.’
Enough said. Use your verbs.
Don't Be Haphazard With Your Fictional Peeps' Words
Stiff, superfluous, poorly directed or wrongly originated dialogue can ruin a story. Think: interminable elementary school play. The underlying connection between the conversationalists needs to be taken into account. (You wouldn't do a get-to-know you first date exchange between siblings or best friends. People pick up where they leave off. Always. You catch people up but you don't start over each time. Dialogue has a dual purpose of advancing the plot and reminding the reader of who each character is. A self-absorbed, center of the universe next door neighbor shouldn't be featured asking the protagonist how's he's doing, what his thoughts are about the road being repaved, and what's up with his individual kids by name. Imagine someone like Trump doing that! Just not happening. Stay on track. Remember who is speaking and why.
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