May 27, 2025

Deep Thoughts

Holy crap, things have been a mess for me. Copyedits on two different projects and notes on two other projects. My mom visiting. Me getting sick. My partner getting really sick. My beloved Goblin needed eye surgery, with two appointments leading up to that. Oh, crap, and WonderCon was in there too.

And meanwhile, the ranty writing blog sits neglected for almost two months. Unloved. Gathering dust…

Yes. Very sad. Anyway…

I got a request on an older rant about two months back, so I’m going to skip my planned topic and answer that. Because I read all the comments. And I answer all the questions. Plus let’s face it, it’s been so long you’ve forgotten what I’d said I was going to talk about anyway, didn’t you?

Jared wanted to know–

“How do you handle a character ‘thinking’ or carrying on with an inner monologue? With my current story my main character has a good bit of that going on and I seem to be stuck on treating it like regular dialogue. Does that take your reader out of a story?”

Okay. This is going to be a bit loose on hard facts because there’s a few different ways to approach this and there’s no right way to do something in fiction. I think there’s definitely wrong ways to do thing, but they’re pretty few and far between. Usually. Some people are very creative.

To begin, how we do thoughts in fiction depends a lot on what format our story’s taking. F’r example…

In first person, the narrative is essentially already in my character’s head. In a way, everything is their thoughts. The whole story. So even when there’s no dialogue, we’re aware that it’s still the character’s voice and viewpoint. Just like this. None of this is written as dialogue, and you understand I’m not speaking, but at the same time you also immediately understand all of this is my thoughts about writing. So in first person, I don’t have to do anything special to signify my characters thoughts because… well, it’s all thoughts. Done.

Plus side, thoughts in first person are very easy. Down side, it’s a little trickier for the character to surprise us because… well, we know what they’re thinking. And it can feel a bit cheaty if they suddenly don’t think of something. I’ve read books where, in chapter thirty, we find out the character did a bunch of stuff in chapter twenty that they just… never mentioned? And never thought about.

If I was going to do something like this—and again, this is just me, it might not work for you—I’d probably do something to let my readers know the character did something while still leaving the question of, y’know, what exactly they did. Maybe something like–

I made three phone calls, sent a text message to Dot, and then I went out to meet Mendoza and get my cat back.

Also, another big thing I need to keep track of in first person (in my opinion) is if this is a present tense or past tense story. Is my character having these thoughts and observations in real time, so to speak, or are they remembering past events and the thoughts they had then (with whatever additional commentary that might involve)? This’ll require a distinction between the thoughts “at the time” and the present day thoughts. Again, maybe something like–

I remember staring at him, thinking there was no way Wakko could be this stupid. But as I was going to learn all too soon, he was way stupider that I possibly could’ve imagined.

Also, worth mentioning that if I’m not careful, this past-present view can sometimes lead to tricky situations of what my character knew when, which can also create some possibly cheaty situations (see above). But it could also lead to some very clever storytelling.

If I do it right.

Next there’s third person perspective. This tends to come in two forms—omniscient and limited. Omniscient is when we can see everything in the story, including what’s going on in people’s heads. Which means we can see in his head, but also her head, and also his head. Okay, maybe not his head. That might give too much away.

Although that brings up a good point we should address right out of the gate. Third person omniscient can sometimes lead to what my beloved calls head-hopping. It’s when the narrative gets a bit loose and goes from my thoughts to your thoughts to her thoughts over to his thoughts (no, wait, we said we weren’t showing his thoughts) and back to my thoughts. If that sentence was a little hard to follow… well, you see where I’m going with this. Once we’re jumping into the heads of multiple characters, we’ve essentially created the same situation as a multi-person conversation. Except here people could be thinking of… well, anything. I’m thinking about those new Monster Force action figures, you’re thinking about college tuition, she’s trying to figure out if someone killed the Viscountess Maria for the inheritance or for revenge, and he’s thinking about ha ha ha thought you were finally going to find out what he’s thinking about, weren’t you? Well you’re not. That’d spoil everything.

So first, you can see how confusing that would get. Second, when we start jumping around and seeing everyone’s thoughts… it kind of brings everything to a halt. Yes, thoughts happen very fast in our heads and yes I can make it clear they’re all happening at the same time, but my readers still have to work through that page (or more) waiting for the characters to start doing something again. And meanwhile that ninja cheerleader’s just hanging there in the air with her sword raised…

The other version of this is third person limited. This is what I tend to use in most of my books. Whole sections of the book are essentially done over the shoulder of one specific character and no one else. We only “see” things that happen around this character and their thoughts are the only ones we have access to. The book I finished two months ago is almost entirely limited to one character’s viewpoint except for half a dozen chapters near the end (why? You’ll find out next year, if all goes well).

(pause for deep breath)

Now, within these formats, there’s a few different things I could do if I wanted to distinguish thoughts from general narration

Which means it’s time to talk about the tilted elephant in the room. Italics.

For a long time italics were the standard format for my character is thinking this, but as of late… it feels like we’re not seeing it as much. I wouldn’t say it’s wrong, but it definitely feels like it’s going out of fashion. I know I’m not using it as much, although that might mean this whole paragraph is just my own style-bias leaking through. But I think if you skimmed through a few more recent books, you wouldn’t see a lot of italics for thoughts.

There’s nothing weird about this. Storytelling conventions fall in and out of style all the time. Something can be the standard for ages, someone comes up with a different way of doing it, and suddenly that becomes the new standard everyone uses. Like thought bubbles in comic books. Remember those?

I think there are a few reasons italics-as-thoughts have fallen a bit out of favor, but the big one is probably that… well, through the years, italics sort of became the fallback go-to for everything in printed text. Thinking? Italics. Foreign language? Italics. Book or movie title? Italics. Emphasis? Italics! Character who can transform into pure energy and speaks by energizing air molecules until they vibrate? Italics!

And all those italics on the page can get confusing as we’re trying to figure out what each one is signifying. It also creates a lot of odd situations if someone’s, say, thinking about a cool book they just read. Or speaking emphatically in a foreign language.

Also, it can look weird to have a big block of italics on the page if a character decides to have an extended inner monologue. Again, said as someone who put a lot of blocks of italics on the page for the Ex-Heroes books. It does weird things with spacing and leading, too.

All that said (italics for emphasis, not foreign language), if we’re not using italics to show thoughts we probably shouldn’t just use some other formatting. No bolds or underscores, small caps, other fonts, or anything like that. Word processors can let us do a lot of weird stuff on the page, but that doesn’t mean I need to do a lot of weird stuff on the page.

Also, please don’t use quotes (double or single) for thoughts. Remember when I said there are definitely wrong ways to do things? Well 99.98% of the time, using quotes for thoughts is the wrong way. I’ve seen a few folks try that and… wow. You wouldn’t believe how confusing it can get. Or how fast it gets there. I’m not saying it’s impossible to do but… well, I wouldn’t do it.

So what does this leave us with…?

Well, one option is what we could call direct thoughts. Treating thoughts just like dialogue, just without the quotation marks so it’s clear they’re not out loud. Essentially, just what we’d do with italics, but with no italics. Something like this…

I should grab something to eat before I head over to Phoebe’s, thought Wakko. Or maybe not. I’m not really that hungry.

If I want to do thoughts this way, a few things to maybe keep in mind. One is that I want to be clear where these thoughts are coming from, because that attribution is also going to help clarify that these are thoughts. I know in the past I’ve talked about trying to pare down dialogue tags, but in this situation… personally, I might lean into them a little harder. Just a bit. Especially if I’m using a POV where the reader could have access to a few characters thoughts.

Two would be that I’d probably set the thoughts apart from any significant amount of action. Sometimes with dialogue we’ll start with someone talking, describe an action or three they’re taking, and then finish off that paragraph with more dialogue. But since the thoughts don’t have any punctuation to set them off, it can be a bit confusing to go back to them. Me, I’d just give them their own paragraph to make sure readers don’t get knocked out of the story if they suddenly have to figure out where the action stops and the thoughts begin.

Another option is to use implied or maybe indirect thoughts. Yeah, I made that up, too. What I mean is, the narration can give us the sense of what Wakko’s thinking rather than word-for-word transcript of what’s going on inside Wakko’s head. This is what I tend to do most of the time in my books. For example…

Wakko considered grabbing something to eat before he headed over to Phoebe’s, but decided he wasn’t really that hungry.

See? Same thoughts as that example a little further up, we’re just a step back from them, so to speak. Or so to think. I feel like this method works with action a little better, too, so I don’t need to break it off in its own paragraph. And that makes for a smoother reading experience.

It’s also possible to use both of these methods. Seriously. They mesh fairly well. The same way we might use dialogue most of the time but then sometimes write something like– Yakko filled them in on the new clues he’d found. We can do that with thoughts too.

Oh, and one final idea about how to represent thoughts in a book. Maybe just… don’t. It’s a totally valid narrative decision to close off every character’s head and make the audience wonder what she’s thinking or what he’s wondering about or if they’re both thinking about the Roman Empire again or something silly like that. It might end up being a bit more challenging, but I think it can make for some really cool storytelling.

I’ll also add one more thing. Thoughts can be fun to write. That ongoing inner monologue, remembering this, figuring out that. It’s easy to fill a lot of pages with thoughts. But I want to be sure all these thoughts are advancing my plot or my story somehow. That’s it’s not just me, the author, twiddling my thumbs for three or four or ten pages. People will lose patience with that real quick, especially once they realize these little soliloquies (mental or spoken) don’t actually go anywhere.

And that’s all I’ve got for you on thoughts. Ultimately, like anything else– dialogue, action, descriptions—the important thing is I don’t want my method of telling the story to be disruptive for the audience. My readers shouldn’t be stumbling trying to figure out if a sentence was narration or inner monologue or spoken-out-loud dialogue. As long as they understand what they just read and it keeps the story going at the pace I want… it’ll be great.

I think it will, anyway.

Wow. I really babble on a lot here, didn’t I? This is what I meant when I said thinking can take up a lot of space on the page.

Well, next time, as I mentioned waaaaay back when, I was going to try to redeem myself for all these late posts (see, I said you wouldn’t remember). And I guess one way to do that is to give you another post on Friday. It’s my birthday this week, and—as I have in the past—I may use the day to offer some thoughts and advice about another aspect of this whole writing thing.

So until then… go write.

December 30, 2020

The Tally of the Plague Year

Well, here we are. The last post of the year. Finally.

Normally, when I get to the end of the year, it’s a chance to sit down and list off all the stuff I got done over the past twelve months. But wow… here in the USnine of these past twelve months have been pretty awful. Made even worse by the fact that it feels like certain parties/persons in the government really don’t even care if Americans live or die. I understand the UKisn’t much better. Hell, is it even still the UK?

It all combined to make a pretty rough year.

If you didn’t get a lot done this year as a creative person, you’re not alone. We all had a big shift in priorities and schedules, not to mention financial shifts. And just lots and lots of stress. If you weren’t worried about things this year… honestly, I don’t know what to say. For the rest of us, it was just brutal.

I know I got waaaaaaaay less done than I’d wanted this year. Pretty sure I lost the back half of March through early May to doomscrolling as the pandemic found its legs and took off. And then, just as I was getting back on my creative feet, the summer protests kicked into gear—some of them very close to me. And it’s tough to work on weird, entertaining stories when you know just a few miles away people are risking their lives trying to end… well, pretty much a reign of terror.

Okay, this is spiraling into despair, so let’s talk about good things. Because there were some good things. There’s no way you can tell me you didn’t have brief moments of creativity this year.

The big thing for me was The Broken Room. Still not sure about the title, but I’m very happy with the book itself. I started it last year, got the first draft done before, y’know, everything, and then spent the summer cutting and editing. And then my agent had some good thoughts (a few of which had already been gnawing at me) which I’m in the process of implementing now (not right now obviously, but for the past few weeks). If all goes well, you might get to read it next year.

I also wrote a massive outline for what will hopefully be a six book series. Not an ongoing universe or anything, but a large story told, beginning to end, across six books. A hexalogy or sextet, depending on your preference. This is something I wouldn’t’ve even thought about a couple years ago, for a few reasons, and even as it is my agent’s warned me it might be a tough sell. But I’ve been playing with this for a while and it’s finally all come together and… well, hopefully I’ll get to tell you more about the Creatureverse in the near future.

Speaking of things I’ve been playing with for a while… There’s an idea I bounced off an editor about six or seven years ago (over whiskey and apple pie late one night at San Diego Comic-Con), and he pointed out I basically had a well-thought out idea, but not much of a plot, really. Well, about two weeks ago that whole knot just unsnarled in my head. Or got cut in half, depending on how you like to picture tough knots getting dealt with. I ran to my computer and typed out a little over three pages of notes for that. Who knows when I’ll get to it, but when I get the chance I know I can write it.

I also pitched a dream project to a comics editor. I think I’ve got a solid take, but I can also admit (in retrospect) my pitch was pretty weak. I should’ve done a better job figuring out how to pitch things for this particular format and for that particular editor. If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll get to try again in a year or four, when the shame of this bad attempt has faded from both our memories.

Oh, and there’s the ranty writing blog itself. Seventy-three posts here, although probably a dozen of those were cartoons or quick notices about new books or something. And a quarter of it past that was all the A2Q series, which hopefully one or two of you found semi-useful.

I also managed to read thirty-one books this year, despite all the doomscrolling. Nowhere near my usual amount but… hey, doomscrolling. As it is, most of these were either for the Last Bookstore’s dystopian book club or blurb books for friends/editors/ my agent. But I might get one more done before New Year’s! Which is also a blurb book.

I read a lot of comics for fun. Shadow Road. Transformers. GI Joe. Vampirella/Red Sonja(which is amazingly good). There’s also a Transformers/Terminatorcrossover book which I’m only two issues into but it’s very clever.

And that’s what I got done this year. A lot of time lost, but I think I used the remainder pretty well. I’m happy with how it all turned out, anyway…

How about you? I don’t think any of us got as much done as we’d wanted, for a bunch of reasons. but hopefully you got something down you’re happy with. A few chapters, a couple of pages, or maybe some notes to work with once everything’s just a little calmer. The important thing isn’t how much you did—it’s that you did it.

Seriously, if you managed to get stuff done in 2020, think what you’ll be able to do when the world’s not on fire.

And hey, speaking of things not being on fire—sorry, quick segue—Georgia residents, I know you’ve been battered with this but please vote in your Senate runoff next week, and please vote for Reverend Raphael Warnock and Jon Ossoff. The simplest way to get the government working for you again is simply to remove Mitch McConnell as Senate Majority Leader. And voting for Warnock and Ossoff will do that. Plus, added bonus, it’ll get rid of two incredibly corrupt members of the Senate who’ve blatantly used their positions to enrich themselves. So really it’s a win-win.

I hope all of you have the absolute best New Year’s you can with the state of things right now, and that 2021 brings all of us peace, relief, and maybe a few clever plot lines.

See you again in the future.

Until then, go write.

February 1, 2019 / 1 Comment

Trying Too Hard

            Running a day late. Sorry about that. 
            So, I kinda wanted to revisit an idea I’ve talked about once or thrice.  But I’m going to come at it from a new angle, so don’t worry—you might still get something out of it.
            I’m guessing four out of five of you reading this probably dabble in what often gets called “genre fiction.”  It’s when we can slap a quick, easy label on a manuscript.  Sci-fi.  Fantasy.  Romance. Horror.  And there’s sub-genres and sub-sub genres and the labels can just get more and more specific.
            I’m also sure everybody here wants to write the best stuff they can.  I hope you do, anyway. The coolest sci-fi, the most heart-warming romance, the creepiest, gnaw-at-your-mind horror.  That’s the goal, right?
            When I started telling longer stories, it was my goal.  I tried to make everything cool.  I tried to have all those moments that made people gasp with excitement and terror.  I tried to make my story like the other stories I’d seen that did these things.
            But I had a couple of invisible issues, so to speak.  Problems I didn’t even know I was dealing with.  And a lot of them burned down to experience.
            Firstoff… well, I was really new at this.  In every sense.  Some of you may remember me saying that I got my first rejection when I was eleven.  And at that point about 90% of my intake was comic books and old Doctor Who episodes, with the occasional Star Wars novel here or there.  And, in the big scheme of things, I hadn’t even read a lot of those.  So a lot of the stuff I thought was bold and clever was actually cliché, well used tropes.  It was just that I’d never seen them before.
            For example, one of my favorite comics as a kid was ROM.  But it wasn’t until much later that I realized ROM was pretty much just Bill Mantlo doing his own version of The Invaders, which was really Larry Cohen doing his own version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers, which was Hollywood doing their own version of the storyfrom same-named novel.  And there’s nothing wrong with any of that… except my assumption that the elements in ROMwere completely new and never seen before.
            Secondwas me trying to do all this cool stuff in my own writing.  There wasn’t anything wrong with the individual ideas, just that I was trying to do them at my clumsy, inexperienced level.  Trying to be cool.  Trying to be scary.
            For example, again, y’know that bit in every other horror movie when something bursts out from around the corner or behind the curtain, and it just turns out to be a cat or Wakko playing a stupid prank?  We generally call that a cheap shot.  Cheap shots aren’t scary—they’re the storyteller trying to be scary.  It’s me ignoring whatever’s going on in the actual story to toss a cat in your lap.   Another one that comes up a lot—especially in films—is nudity  Some people think throwing in random nudity is hot or sexy.  But just as often it can be creepy, demeaning, or just… weird
            When we toss in random, unconnected elements like this, we’re doing it to try and create an effect, not for the sake of the story itself.  It doesn’t matter how the cat got there or why it decided to leap randomly out after sitting quietly or why Phoebe decided walking through a cobweb meant she should take her shirt off while she was exploring the cellar.  It’s all just a storyteller trying to get a reaction, and how they get it is kind of irrelevant.  The ends justifying the means, as some folks might say.
            Which is, in my mind, kinda crappy storytelling.
            Some of you know that I like watching bad movies on the weekend and live-tweeting big (often easily-avoidable) story problems that come up.  A while back I watched one, a horror movie, which had tons of scary elements in it.  Tons of them.  The problem was, it was just tons of scary elements from other stories and movies, all just crammed in an attempt to make things scary without any thought to the characters, the scene, or the story as a whole.  It almost felt like horror movie mad libs, where the filmmakers just said “Okay, we need a scary thing.  And another scary thing.  And another scary thing.  And…”
            There’s two issues with doing this.  One kinda connects to this “trying” aspect and the other is its own thing –I’ll get to it in a moment.  The other one is something I’ve talked about before.  I can’t take something that’s funny/cool/scary/sexy in another story, shove it into mine, and expect it’s automatically going to get the same effect.  Especially when the elements on either side of it are also random things from other sources.  An element can be really disturbing in your story but absurdly funny in mine.  There are tons of YouTube videos that prove this point—splicing together two elements from different films and creating an entirely new, different effect.

            And this brings us to the other aspect of the “many scary things” problem, which is also the third overall issue when I start cramming stuff into my story.  It’s also another one that I’ve mentioned a couple times before.  A bunch of story points is not the same thing as a story.  I can have a hundred cool fantasy elements in my manuscript, but that doesn’t mean I’ve told a cool fantasy story.  A few dozen sexy, romantic moments don’t mean I’ve written a good romance.  And the biggest pile of cheap shots and scary beats don’t add up to a solid horror story.

            When I just start cramming these things in, I’m breaking up whatever coherent story I might actually have.  It’s becoming that random bunch of story points that don’t add up to anything.  I need to be adding things that serve a purpose within the story, not just in what I want the story to do in some vague, overall way.  I want things to be sexy and romantic, sure, but in service to the story, not just to be five seconds of sexy or thirty seconds of romance.
            This is a tough thing to grasp, I know.  How can trying to put more action in an action story not be a good thing?  How can more scary things in a horror story not be good?  But this is one of those little, subtle lessons that lets us go from being adequate writers to really good writers.  Some folks like to fall back on “the end justifies the means,” but this ignores the fact that whatever means I use are going to  determine the kind of ending I actually get.  And if my means are just random, haphazard elements…
            Well, what kind of end will that give me?
            Do I want something that’s trying to be a cool sci-fi novel?  Or do I just want to write a cool sci-fi novel?  Y’see, Timmy, I can incorporate almost anything and everything I want into my story.  But I need to actually incorporate it and not leave it sitting alongside.  Because I don’t want a pile of elements—I want a pyramid.  A perfect structure that’ll awe people for ages after they’ve seen it.
            Anyway…
            Here’s a quick reminder that my new book, Dead Moon, is out exclusively from Audible in just two weeks time.  Believe me when I say there will be more reminders in the weeks to come.
            Next time, I think I’d like to expand on something I touched on here today…
            Until then, go write…
March 13, 2018

Writing Lessons from ROM

Eight-year old me learned a big lesson about storytelling from this one panel…

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