Gail Honeyman creates a refreshing, unique, and memorable character with Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine. Eleanor is real, broken, and imperfect. She struggles with what life handed her in her own unusual ways. She sometimes makes bad choices and can be rude, but you can’t help but root for this character and be entranced by her authenticity. Honeyman makes Eleanor so real that she could nearly walk off the page.

Eleanor is a woman struggling to find the pieces of herself. She didn’t even know parts of her were missing until a friend enters her life. A friend is something she’s never had. Through the lens of another, she begins to examine herself and she begins to change. These changes bring a cascade of events that both enrich her life and nearly undo her. Eleanor’s voice is so rich and distinctive, the pull is intense to turn the page and find out how it all will end. Yet, whenever I thought I had the end predicted, Honeyman added another twist.

This is entertaining and thought provoking through and through. I think this is a must-read book.

Happy Reading,
​Madelyn March

How can you become a better writer? Let people rip your work to shreds so you can rearrange the pieces to create a shinier, more engaging novel. Ok, maybe that’s a bit drastic, but by how much? I’ve had many conversations with newer writers who think their novel is done but it’s only been read by their mom or a friend. What? That is not the kind of feedback that will lead to quality. It might boost the ego. I mean, how many moms are going to say your manuscript sucks? A few, yes, but most would not.

You cannot write your best piece of work without high-quality feedback from multiple people. You need people to read it who know about the craft of writing, are discerning and careful enough to pick up on problem areas as well as strengths, and most importantly, have the gumption to tell you the truth about things.

Case in point: The Muse Crew. They just finished reading a draft of my incredibly rough (did I mention this was very rough?) draft of my 4th book. I knew it needed lots of work. It was only my first go of translating ideas to page. I had the group read it early in the writing process so I could think about the overall content, character arc, and story arc as I did my intense revisions. I did this before with the group and it worked well if I could handle the critiques. You have to expect them that early (and even later) in the game. The rewards that come with those hits to my self-esteem are well worth it. I get a sense of what works in the big picture and what doesn’t. I see the story more clearly as I understand how others are interpreting it.

There is always someone in the group who picks up on something that I didn’t think of and that will require quite a bit of reworking. When this happens, there is this moment where everything slows down like in the fighting moments of The Matrix (or insert your favorite action movie here). In that slow-motion moment, I briefly become a broken writer. I thought I had one thing but now I see through the eyes of others that my characters need more development to reach the level I was shooting for or that maybe there is a plot hole that will lead to major revisions. Whatever it is, it hurts for a moment (or to be honest two). Then, there is the slow-motion rally, where I switch movements, thwart the negativity (or in our analogy here, the bad guy) and move forward with action and back to regular speed.

I’m not going to lie. It’s not easy. Constructive criticism can be difficult to take, especially when it means more work. But, look carefully at the constructive. It will help you build a better version of your book and make you a stronger writer. The end goal should be to produce our best. In order to do that, you need to have multiple high-quality critiques from people that you trust who know about writing. Then, look carefully at their comments, take what you can from them, let go of the ones that aren’t helpful, and create a shinier version of your masterpiece.

Happy Writing,
Madelyn March

Write What You Know…
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It’s a phrase attributed to Mark Twain but I’m not sure what he meant by it. I don’t want to speculate on his thoughts. I just want to take the phrase and dissect it. See what its insides look like, dig for any value, sift through the interpretations.
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How can we write what we know? In non-fiction, this seems like a valuable approach. We don’t want to learn how to be happy from angry people. It doesn’t make sense to write about building things if all you have ever built is a sandwich. We certainly don’t want to hear financial advice from a person in debt. You get the idea.

Yet, in fiction, it seems like we must write what we don’t know. How boring would fiction be if we didn’t? We’d be severely limited by writing about our singular existence. Isn’t the point of fiction to do more than the ordinary and to reach into the extraordinary? If we can’t imagine a better existence, how can we create one? We can create worlds with alien creatures, out of body experiences, incredible adventures that change who we are, or worlds where peace reigns. The possibilities are endless. The world would be sad if we confined ourselves to only what we know.

With that being said, there are some grains of truth within this phrase that do apply to fiction. We need to be cautious and learn about the worlds we create. We must make our fictional worlds believable, and in order to do that, you have to create them and know them in your mind. If you don’t bother to do that, your readers won’t either.

We can’t just imagine what it’s like to be a person completely different from us. We must research things to make them believable. We have to be astute observers of the world around us to create characters that seem real. If you’ve never heard a person from the south talk, you will probably ruin their accent in your writing. If you’ve never stepped outside your own experience to imagine the experience of others, you may never reach the full potential of your character creation. Research to know your fiction and it will be more powerful.

So, to avoid creating books where we’re given bad directions and false information or offered flimsy fiction with no backbone of consistency and sense, we do need to heed Twain’s advice. Then, on the other hand, we need to reach deep into our creativity to give life to things that are new and interesting. Those things we create we should know intimately by fleshing out our world and characters to create believable fiction. The answer to Twain’s advice, like many things, lies in the middle.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this phrase. Please share.

Happy Writing,
Madelyn March

I never know where I’m going and neither should your reader!  Okay, never is an exaggeration, but I have what I like to call directional dyslexia. I know they haven’t created this term yet (that I know of) and I’m not belittling dyslexic people (many of my students are dyslexic) but I literally get directions turned around in my head. If I make five turns, then reverse order, I often want to go the opposite way! I don’t know why! If I think it through, I can get it, but it is tough for me!

Why am I sharing this embarrassing detail? Well, I feel like books need to do this to us on occasion. I don’t mean never let your reader know where your story is going, but certainly don’t give them a perfect map with precise directions. Give them MIS-direction.

I have to be honest here, if I read a book and I know within the first few chapters where the story is going, I feel cheated! Why should I give up my precious time to something so predictable? I’ve read lots of books, watched my share of movies, I have an idea how these things work. It doesn’t mean that I need the tables turned 100% every time, but give me something interesting. Don’t just replicate a story that’s already been told! UGH!

How do we do that? There are lots of strategies to achieve this. The one we’re focused on today is misdirection. Misdirection means exactly what you’d think…point your reader in one direction while going the other. This can be subtle or a big part of the story. Use your judgement for what is best for your book.

There are many ways to accomplish this. The options are limitless. Want grand examples? Think of Snape in Harry Potter. What did you think of him in the first few books as opposed to the end? Remember the movie Sixth Sense? The whole movie rests upon masterful misdirection. I’ve added some links below if you want to further explore this technique.

Just make them wonder. Respect your audience. They don’t want to be spoon fed a story. They want to be enthralled with one. Misdirection is one of the things we can do to help accomplish this.

http://www.writersdigest.com/online-editor/how-to-create-tension-through-misdirection

https://www.writing.ie/resources/the-unreliable-narrator-the-art-of-misdirection/

https://www.writingclasses.com/toolbox/articles/the-art-of-misdirection

Happy Writing,

Madelyn