Some people write stories where nothing much happens. The main character sits around thinking of things that happened in the past. The hero doesn’t do anything heroic.
The only thing that matters in your story is what the characters do. What they think, feel, or see is just the whipped cream, peanuts, and cherry on top. The ice cream, the core of your story is what they do.
This is a guest post by Emily Wenstrom (@emilywenstrom).
When I completed the first draft of my first-ever novel last December, I promptly did a little victory dance.
And then I sat back down and took the word count, which completely killed my buzz. My manuscript rang in at little over 45,000—half the length of your average novel. Eep! I had a minor freakout. What was I going to do?
But fortunately, rationality eventually returned. This was only a first draft, after all. Surely there was some room for development. Turns out, there was tons.
If you find yourself in a similar situation, here are five of the best ways I’ve discovered to beef up your word count without diluting your story.
I recently received my first rejection letter for a short story I submitted at the beginning of July. It read:
Dear JH Bunting,
We regret that your manuscript does not fit our current editorial needs, but we appreciated the opportunity to consider your work. Thanks very much for submitting.
Sincerely,
The Editors of the Magazine that Doesn’t Want to Publish Me
This is the nature of this work we do. On the one hand, we get the joy of creating. We get to make up new worlds, play with our imaginary friends, make something that wasn’t there before. Writing is a joy, isn’t it?
On the other hand, we will face rejection upon rejection upon rejection.
Are you ready for that? Is it worth it for you?
Who are we without our choices? Am I a certain political party/religion/career because that’s what my parents were and what my environment dictated or because I chose those things?
When I look in the mirror, I see myself as an amalgam of my choices. Mine. Not somebody’s naysaying, all-controlling, all-knowing demands. Because nobody is responsible for me. And I like it that way.
So, who are you really?
Throughout your high school or middle school careers you probably made many memories. Turn those memories into writing.
Remember that first kiss, or when you flunked a math test, or tried to make the best senior prank possible? Write about that!
Write for fifteen minutes, and when you’re finished, post your practice in the comments section.
