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Craft of Writing or Yes Madison It's A Learned Skill
Craft of Writing or Yes Madison It's A Learned Skill
or,
Yes, Virginia, It's a Learned Skill
C1998, rev., Macedon
Having been blessed to enjoy the friendship of many fellow writers, published
and unpublished, I've been party to many conversations on the art and craft of
writing. I've also occasionally been asked to critique stories. So I colle
cted some of the things I've learned over the years into a short essay. Then (
somewhat arrogantly, I admit!) I decided to put it up on my web page in case ot
hers might be interested. (Further links to writers' resources are at the page
bottom.)
Those who write purely for their own and others' entertainment, or aren't int
erested in critical feedback or going pro--bail now. Please note: there's not
hing wrong with eschewing critical feedback. Ultimately, to entertain is the
goal of ALL writers, even Pulitzer winners. In writing fiction (fanfic or ori
ginal) the writer attempts to touch the capacity of the heart. Stories which f
ail to do so are meaningless, no matter how stylistically artistic. Myself,
I prefer stories which have heart and are well written. The better written th
e story, the more effective it is at entertaining readers and conveying any the
mes or points the author may wish to convey.
So studying the craft of writing is not elitist, but very, very pragmatic.
What follows is commentary on various technical aspects of writing: the nuts
and bolts of narrative. Only 10% of writing is talent (maybe less), another 3
0% is having something interesting to say. The rest is being able to say it we
ll. Talent and content amount to little without skill, and skill is what we
learn. So yes, Virginia, you can learn to write (more) creatively.
To be frank, the best way to learn is to find a mentor who will teach and do
that tedious--but very necessary--task of detailed critique on a hardcopy manusc
ript. Writing, like bread-baking, is fundamentally existential: a hands-on
experience.
But not everyone is lucky enough to find a writing mentor, so general scatter
-shot advice does have some value, particularly concerning those things which a
re frequent technical offenses among beginning and intermediate writers.
So, how can one know if he or she is guilty of ____? I have found that as s
oon as a particular problem was pointed out to me, I could recognize it in my w
ork. I simply hadn't realized it was a problem before that point, and so had
failed to 'see' it. If you think you're guilty of ____, you probably are. (
If however, you think you're guilty of everything, you're probably just paranoi
d!)
Finally, these are rules of thumb, not absolutes. Some of them are matters
of debate even among award-winning authors. Ultimately, the only real rule i
n writing is, "Can you make it work?" If you can make it work, you can get a
way with it.
But some people think they can get away with what they can't, too. "That's
just my style" isn't a valid excuse for bad writing. There's a big difference
between style and technical proficiency. e. e. cummings didn't capitalize an
ything, but when you write poetry like cummings, you can do whatever the hell
you want, too. The people who play fast and loose with the rules are usually
those experienced, skilled authors who kept those same rules until they learned
their art. Most of us are not Carson McCullers, to pen a classic at the tend
er age of twenty one.
So, on with the show...
WRITING BASICS
1) DIALOGUE TAGS: The Dreaded Said-Bookism and other Strained Prose, or, G
et Rid of those Damned Adverbs!
Don't do this! It's not artistic. It's annoying, distracting and occasi
onally outright funny.
Simple fact: with use, 'said' is a transparent word. When a writer emplo
ys a substitute, it's loud--i. e. really noticeable. So don't have your cha
racters 'growl' their comments unless they really are growling them and you want
to call specific attention to that fact. And the word 'quipped' should appear
perhaps twice in a 1000-page novel, otherwise the guilty author should be take
n out and shot.
Dialogue tags can be divided into three basic types: nonexistent, soft, a
nd hard. The best of these is nonexistent, allowing the dialogue to stand fre
e and clear of narrator intervention (which in turn allows the reader to hear th
e dialogue
more purely). In two-person dialogue, one can sometimes go for half a page or
more without the need for any "he said/she said" tag. With multiple-speaker c
onversation, that's harder and tags more necessary. Rule of thumb: be unobtr
usive.
Sometimes action can substitute for he said/she said. Ask yourself, Do I
really need a tag at all?
Soft dialogue tags include: said, asked, told, replied, answered, (and
occasionally) pointed out, and remarked. These are soft because they're tran
sparent to the reader: that is, they carry no visual or audio sense and no con
notations -- they draw no attention to themselves and are the next best thing to
no tags at all.
Hard dialogue tags are basically anything else. That is, words which conv
ey a sense of how the speaker is speaking (cry, growl, snarl, quip, laugh,
huff, etc.). They also include uncommon synonyms for said like declare, expo
und, utter. These words are like pepper--best used sparingly. It isn't neces
sary to describe how the speaker is speaking all the time. One may as well sho
ut all the time: it loses its impact. The overuse of strong tags comes out as
awkward--even amusing--not descriptive. Don't be the little writer who cried
wolf!
Another frequent fault of beginners is not use of the said-bookism directly,
but the overuse of adverbs in conjunction with said, especially -ly adverbs.
So, you fear you may be guilty of the dreaded said-bookism, what do you do
? First, go through your manuscript and convert every dialogue tag to 'said.'
(I'm serious--every tag.) Then go back over your manuscript to see where yo
u can
eliminate a tag entirely, or where another word really is necessary. Some
times the only change needed is another soft tag, like asked instead of said.
Save the hard tags for those places where you need them.
2) CHARACTER NAMES AND DESCRIPTORS: Pick One and Stick With It.
Like the word 'said,' characters' names become transparent. And as with s
aid-bookisms, there are always beginning writers who think they need half a doz
en synonym-descriptors to substitute for characters' names in order to be artist
ic. It's
not artistic. It's confusing. I've read scenes of dialogue between two c
haracters where it sounded like six people talking! ...all because the writer
kept subbing "the tall boy," or "the red-haired pilot" or god-knows-what instea
d of the
name. Unless one needs to use a name three times in the same sentence, ne
ver use a substitute just to use the substitute. As I said, character names b
ecome transparent. Like adverbs and hard dialogue tags, the use of a descript
ive synonym
in place of the name draws attention to it. So unless you mean to draw att
ention to it, don't do it. For instance, in the following case, the use of
a descriptive synonym adds punch:
"Philippos' affairs never last beyond a season," Leonnatos said.
"True--fidelity isn't the king's strong point."
"Maybe it should be," said the king's son, stepping out from behind a hed
ge of boxwood.
A writer often does need at least one synonym for a character besides the pr
onoun he or she. So pick one and use it consistently: don't invent ten. Or
even three. Occasionally, one might need a second, but it should be fairly
generic: the
boy, the man, etc. Too many and it gets confusing as to just who is who!
(For some reason, poor Paris in Voyager fanfic is particularly subject to too
many descriptors. I've seen--in the same story--"the pilot," "the tall man,"
"the blond
young man," "the lieutenant," "the cocky young lieutenant," etc. Um...
just how many people are we talking about here?)
3) VIVID LANGUAGE: Chose the Best Noun or Verb, or, Get Rid of Those Damne
d Adverbs, Take II.
I once sat down with John Crowley's Aegypt, to study what he was doing. (
Don't know Crowley? He's arguably the best stylist writing fantasy today.) I
did a word count on adverbs and adjectives. In a ten-line descriptive paragra
ph, he
averaged only three adjectives and one adverb. Yeah, really. Yet these
are some of the most vivid descriptions I know of in prose. He achieved it all
with the right noun or verb.
He also achieved it by his attention to detail, and not just any detail but
those details which make description live. For instance, in one brief scene
where he describes a hot evening in summer, he speaks of a fire hydrant left to
gush water into the street. Instead of saying it was full of "garbage" or "fl
otsam," he picks out three items from that garbage, and unusual items at that
(a condom is one). The reader can, therefore, see it.
As for characters, it's too easy for authors to get lazy and fall into what
I think of as "driver's license descriptions": height, eye color, hair color
. Some of the best character descriptions I've seen employ none (or only one)
of those.
Don't tell us a character's height unless they're unusual in some way: very
short or very tall. Six feet is a tallish man, it's not a tall man. Now, J
ake Sisko is tall; it's worth noting. So is Hercules, so is Xena for a woman,
so is
Jadzia Dax. But Fox Mulder and Chakotay are not exceptionally so--why ment
ion it? Pick something else. Avoid overstatement. And if inventing one's o
wn characters, please don't make them all tall (or all short). I recall one d
elightful
fanfic story which described a character as not-quite-tall, not-quite-blond
e and not-quite-pretty. What a terrific description!
The same is true of hair and eye color. Unless it's unusual, don't bother
with it. Descriptions of people should pick out those features which are dist
inctive. A cleft in the chin and no earlobes is better for descriptive purpose
s than brown
hair and eyes. Mention the interesting things. (Also mention of one will
sometimes allow the reader to assume the other: if a character has brown eyes,
more than likely the hair will be some shade of brown, too. If the hair is
blond, more
than likely, the eyes will be some shade of blue or grey; if the eyes are
brown or hazel--like Callisto from Xena--then it's worth mentioning.)
Third Person comes in two flavors: Third Limited and Third Omniscient. Th
e difference is where the reader is "placed" in the story. With third omniscie
nt, the reader stands beside an impersonal, third-person narrator who plays Go
d and can see
into the heads and hearts of all the characters. It's hard to do well. W
ith third limited, the narrator is in the head of one of the characters in the
story. It's not as close a point of view as first, but it's far more intimate
than third
omniscient. It's also the most common point of view employed in fiction,
particularly in genre fiction (and fanfic).
All of these POVs have certain advantages and disadvantages. The writer ha
s to make a choice as to which one will best accomplish what the writer wishes t
o do. Often we make that choice unconsciously: we just sit down and start wri
ting and
automatically fall into one.
The problem arises with the two third person POVs, as some writers try to h
ave their cake and eat it, too. That is, they wish the freedom of third omni
scient with the intimacy of third limited... and wind up with a mess. Frequen
tly, the
writer isn't even aware of what's happening. Even published authors commit
this sin. That doesn't make it okay. It's a problem, plain and simple--in
my not-so-humble opinion. Pick third limited or third omniscient and stick wit
h it.
The author must learn to place the camera (if you will) for the reader. So
let's take a look at what each placement permits, and what limitations it impo
ses:
A) First:
First person is, obviously, a great choice to allow the reader intimate kn
owledge of the thoughts and feelings of the main protagonist. It also permits
longish internal monologues, as well as retrospective and forespective comments
, such as:
"I didn't know then..." or "When I was seven, I... but as an adult..." I
t does require a strong narrator's voice or it descends into mundanity, like re
ading the average grunt's diary. Boring.
But it does not allow similar intimacy with other characters. We only and
always see people and events through the narrator, and are subject to all the n
arrator's biases. If the author wishes the reader to realize that the narrator
doesn't see
a particular character fairly or completely, it can be a trick to let the r
eader in on this. In other words, a good first person writer can avoid mergin
g the 'truth' with what the narrator thinks, allowing the reader enough distanc
e from the
narrator to see that truth--even while maintaining the intimacy and empathy
of first. Quite a feat, no?
B) Third Omniscient:
I think of this one as the master's POV because it's so damn hard to do well
... and tiring, too. It's hard because it requires the writer to be able to
make profound commentary on the human condition without sounding either pompous
or
obnoxious. Like first POV, it also requires a strong and distinctive narr
ative voice. In first, one is a character in the story itself, in third omni
scient, one is an external observer... but both are narrating the story and so
are
therefore free to comment on characters, events, action, etc. What thir
d omniscient permits which none of the others does is free access into the thoug
hts and motivations of all the characters, and awareness of all events and acti
on.
But it doesn't allow the intimacy of either first or third limited. The un
seen, omniscient narrator stands between the reader and the characters, mediat
ing perceptions. It's got a bit of a patronizing tone which some writers (and
readers)
dislike. After all, the narrator is playing God, telling the reader what
he or she ought to think about the characters and action.
This type of POV is particularly valuable for stories which are heavy on cha
racters and theme, those that "say something." One wouldn't ordinarily choose
it for a PWP (plot? what plot?) romp unless engaged in mannerpunk. (And I'm
not sure I'd
consign mannerpunk to PWP romps, as it usually has a stylistic goal, if no
t a thematic goal. So, you ask, What the hell is mannerpunk? Read Emma Bul
l and Steven Brust's recent SF collaboration, Teresa Edgerton's Goblin Moon, o
r anything by
Ellen Kushner.)
To make third omniscient work, one has to have something profound to say ab
out the human condition. Otherwise, it's trite, pompous or just plain dull.
C) Third Limited:
This is a happy medium between the other two POVs, allowing a little of bot
h--but it does carry certain limitations. In third limited, the reader is put
in the heads of characters to see events from their points of view. Thus, it
has some of
the intimacy of first. But because a little more distance is maintained vi
a the use of "s/he" instead of "I," the reader may be permitted into the heads o
f a couple of characters instead of only one, thus allowing the greater awarene
ss of events
that one gets with third omniscient.
BUT in order for it to work and not bleed into (bad) third omniscient, a li
ttle more rigidness is required. First, the writer must keep in mind that the
POV character (whoever it is) cannot see him or herself. I can't say how many
books and/or
stories I've read where we're supposedly in the head of X character only to
have the writer drop out of that character's head in order to give a description
of what the character looks like: "Her wispy red hair streamed out behind her.
.." Ouch.
How does she know what her hair is doing? She can only describe herself if
she's looking in a mirror or other reflective surface. Yes, there are publis
hed authors who do this. I still personally consider it bad, lazy writing.
Third limited works best if there is only one POV character per scene. The
author should avoid hopping heads within scenes. If he or she does, the resu
lt is "POV ping pong" which makes the reader dizzy trying to keep track of whose
head one's
in now. Certainly the writer should avoid doing it within paragraphs. Ma
ke it easy on the poor reader--pick a single person's POV and stick with it.
"But I really, really wanna show a scene from both character's points of vi
ew!"
This is where the choice comes in, my friend. The writer must make a deci
sion: is it third limited he or she wants, or third omniscient? Also conside
r, does this scene really need to be seen from two points of view, or do you j
ust think it
does? Let it be a challenge to write it from only one point of view. It
is possible to change heads within a single scene, if handled well, but the pr
ivilege shouldn't be abused. Some tips:
(Oh, on that topic--try some different gestures. All writers can be guilt
y of falling into ruts: nodding heads, taking a step up, back, turning aroun
d, etc. How about putting hands behind the head? Scratching the bridge of
a nose?
Cracking knuckles? Twitching a foot? Be... well... creative.)
My reason for warning against interrupted dialogue--whether with lots of one
-liners or extended bouts of internal thought--is that it's easy for the reader
to lose track of the conversation. This is not a good thing. When using inte
rnal
thought, I find it best to aid the reader:
A) by alternating sections of dialogue with descriptions. Have several lin
es of uninterrupted dialogue, then intersperse description or internal thought.
Don't do talk-think-talk-think-talk. That's hard to follow.
B) by repeating part of the previous statement if a long paragraph (or sever
al paragraphs) of thought or description has intervened. This is particularly
important if the speaker is answering a question. "What do you think, Jim?"
... [long
extended meditation on what Jim thinks]... "I think we should..." No,
we don't do that in real conversation. But a writer doesn't write 'real' conve
rsation. If we did, it'd be dull, confusing and full of "um, ah, hmmm," a
nd run-on
sentences. So cut the reader some slack.
The key here is twofold, as noted above: not to confuse the reader by addi
ng too much and thereby cutting up dialogue so that it becomes difficult to foll
ow; but also not to add unneccessary commentary, images, taglines and actions
. How does
one know what's unnecessary? Ask oneself a couple of questions: How does
this comment/action further the readers' grasp of the conversation dynamics, or
the reader's grasp of characterization itself? If you present a character as
habitually
pacing when nervous, or have one who scratches the bridge of his nose when
he's feeling shy or uncomfortable, that's a subtle clue--and it's not unncessar
y, is it? But don't join every exchange in a conversation with some action on
the part of
the speaker as a substitute tagline, or under the misguided notion that the
reader has to "see" everything the characters are doing. The reader doesn't.
Keep it balanced. Or, as Apollo would say, "Moderation in all things."
8) SHOW, DON'T TELL
This is a cardinal rule of writing, and what makes creative writing differe
nt from most other forms of writing, such as journalism, essays, technical wr
iting, et cetera. Some new authors understand it instinctively, others--part
icularly
those who think linearly, or have been trained in scientific or other forms
of logical thinking--don't.
How does this manifest itself in actual fiction writing? By telling us fac
ts about your characters--what we call 'expository lumps'--rather than showing u
s these things. Yes, it takes longer, but the show is what makes fiction int
eresting.
There are two basic ways to show: either through dialogue, or by creating
a scene in which the information is revealed. If you want to convey that your
character is impulsive, make a scene in which s/he acts impulsively. Don't ju
st tell us
that fact. Why should we believe you? If you want to pass certain inform
ation on to your readers, do it in a conversation if possible, not by just dum
ping it straight into narrative.
No, this doesn't mean writers can only write semi-autobiography. What it
does mean is that if you've never been to Las Vegas, don't choose it for your s
tory's main setting. If you know nothing about fly fishing, don't make it you
r protag's
favorite hobby. Or go talk to someone who does know about fly-fishing. R
ead a few books. Do your homework. Or--hitting closer to home--if you're not
an Indian, have never met an Indian and know squat about Indians, don't pick
Chakotay for
your main point of view character or dwell on his Indian-ness. If you're w
riting Scully and are not a medical doctor, nurse, or other medical personnel,
or don't work in a hospital, try to avoid medical jargon because you'll almos
t certainly
get it wrong.
Finally, if you're going to take on a controversial or emotionally-laden to
pic, dear god, know what you're talking about. Don't romanticize trauma or u
se it as a springboard to get character A together with character B. Don't ass
ume people
get over rape, incest and other such traumatic situations overnight or as a
result of a couple coversations full of potted psychobabble. And please, ple
ase don't fall into the plot cliche of "fucking her all better." These are not
topics to be
employed for emotional chain-yanking. That's not only lazy writing, it's
insensitive and irresponsible writing.
In general, know your limits. Don't be the lazy author who decides to win
g it on a prayer and a remembered conversation between your father and an uncle
when you were seven. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.
10) LESS IS MORE
This is a point on which not all authors agree, but enough do agree that it
's become a maxim. Don't go for overkill; remember that a point or feeling ca
n be conveyed more powerfully by understatement than by banging the reader over
the head with
it. Simplicity is classy. (Give me a woman in simple black velvet over s
parkles and spangles any day.) Or, as I heard one author put is once: "'Jesu
s wept' carries a hell of a lot more punch than 'Jesus threw himself on the grou
nd, kicking
and screaming.'"
Related to this is knowing when to enter a scene and when to end it. Frequ
ently, authors enter scenes too early, or let them run too long. As author J
oy Anderson once said jokingly, "Write your first book chapter to get you going
, then toss
it in the trash." That may be overstating the case a little, but she has
a point. When editing your work, learn how to cut your material, particularl
y to excise the unnecessary. Bigger is not necessarily better. Are you overt
elling? Do
your scenes start too soon, end too late? These are questions to keep in
the back of your mind as you edit.
"The child was wakened by the knotting of the snake's coil about his waist
."
Mary Renault, Fire From Heaven (historical)
"'I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father I have
sinned against heaven and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy
son.' These were not perhaps the actual words which Edward Baltram uttered to
himself on
the occasion of his momentous and mysterious summons, yet their echo was
not absent even then, and later he repeated them often."
Iris Murdoch, The Good Apprentice (novel)
"At the beginning of the summer I had lunch with my father, the gangster,
who was in town for the weekend to transact some of his vague business."
Michael Chabon, The Mysteries of Pittsburg (novel)
"The snow in the mountains was melting and Bunny had been dead for several
weeks before we came to understand the gravity of our situation."
Donna Tartt, The Secret History (murder mystery)
12) FORESHADOW, FORESHADOW!, or, How Do You Get There from Here?
When plotting a story, be sure to avoid unexpected, and illogical, plot t
wists. This means that one has to give a modicum of thought to one's story arc
. If you plan to make a revelation in your story, or take it in an unexpected
direction,
foreshadow. Good foreshadowing is an art. (Ever read Asimov's Foundation
Trilogy? Brilliant foreshadowing.) Avoid the Big Neon Hint--the sort any fo
ol can spot a mile off. Sometimes this type of foreshadowing is fine, but not
if one is
aiming for surprise. (Much depends on a writer's goal.) Of course, the
opposite extreme is no better: the sudden abrupt plot shift which is so unexpec
ted that it rudely tosses the reader out of the story world onto his ass. The
best
foreshadowing is the kind that, when the truth is finally revealed, causes
the reader to say, "Ah, of course... but I never saw it coming!"
This goes not just for events, but for character traits as well. Don't ha
ve your characters respond to situations in unpredictable ways which don't mesh
with anything we've seen from them before--or anything we might expect from what
we have
previously seen. If they're original characters, yes of course they're yo
urs to do with as you please... but that doesn't mean anything goes. Keep you
r characters consistent. In fact, you must keep characters more consistent th
an people are
in real life because there is less room for complexity in stories. I'm all
for complex characters, but it is possible to make them so complex that you lo
se your readers. As for borrowed characters, I think it goes without saying t
hat you can't
take them too far from how they've been shown on the screen or you've simply
created your own character and wrapped an actor's looks around him/her. (See
below under "Comments Specific to Fanfic.")
Finally, a related point: if you plan to hint at deep dark secrets in the
pasts of your characters, be sure they're not cliches. If I read One More Inc
est Story, I may hurl. As a former counsellor, I firmly believe that this is
a matter
which should be spoken about openly and brought to public attention. But a
s a writer, I recognize that it's become a plot cliche. Twenty years ago--eve
n ten years ago--it was shocking. Now, it's blas because it's been done to dea
th. (See
above under "Write What You Know" for warnings against emotional chain-yanki
ng, too.) To avoid writing a cliche requires both extraordinary realism and e
xtraordinary empathy, not to mention a unique angle. But really--there are ot
her
interesting things to write about.
13) DON'T USE DIALECT, or, O. Henry You Ain't
Very, very, very few writers can pull off dialect. It's better to assume
you aren't one of them. Don't give Scotty a brogue, or Chekov a Russian acce
nt, by deliberate misspellings and unfamiliar contractions. It's not convinci
ng, it is
difficult to read, and frankly, it strikes as ridiculous. Instead convey
distinctive speaking styles by grammar. This means developing a really good e
ar for language. For an example of an author who does this particularly well,
take a
gander at the writing of Clyde Edgerton (Walking Across Egypt, Rainey). H
e conveys a perfect western North Carolina accent without misspelling much of an
ything--all by the grammar the characters use. And by grammar, I don't necess
arily mean
bad grammar. For instance, the combination "might should" is something yo
u rarely hear in New York City, but you're very likely to hear it in Macon, Ge
orgia. Likewise with "gotten," and "drug" (the 'past tense' of drag, not a p
harmaceutical
item). These are southernisms. Likewise, you won't hear many Americans
say "we're getting up a party," or "I'm great for you," but you're likely to h
ear an Irish woman say that. So listen for distinctive speech patterns and use
these to
convey dialect--don't use lots of contractions (goin' instead of going) or b
ad grammar to denote rural or linguistically unsophisticated characters, and do
n't, please, please don't use misspellings to convey dialect. It's unreadabl
e.
[A few exceptions which are commonly seen enough to use: ain't, gonna, wa
nna, y'all, 'tis, 'cept, ol' and a few more. But use these with care.]
14) AVOID DEUS EX MACHINA, or, Euripides You Ain't, either
What is deus ex machina? In Latin, it means "the god from the machine" an
d relates to ancient Greek theater, but what it really means in modern usage is
to take the easy way out at the end. That is, such quick-fixes as "it was al
l a dream"
(or a holodeck adventure) which results in automatic rewind, or inserting a
"miracle rescue" or "miracle medicine moment." Yes, TV shows are guilty of d
eus ex machina all the time. That's not an excuse; that's bad plotting. Be
brave and
permit actions to have consequences. Euripides used deus ex machina in ord
er to make fun of the Greek tendency to anthropomorphize their gods. But lazy
writers use it to get themselves out of a plot pickle, to make a story end the
way they want
it to--not the way the course of action demands, or because they're too laz
y to think out a more complex solution.
Another kind of deux ex machina, or at least unbelievable manipulation on t
he part of the author, is the illogical situation or conversation--especially w
hen its sole function is to drive apart (or drive together) the hero and heroine
(or hero and
hero, as the case may be). Please. Assume that your readers have some c
ommon sense--and that your characters do as well. People may say and do stupid
things, but they often recognize they're stupid even while doing them, or rec
ognize it
shortly thereafter. And there are limits. (Stories aimed at romantic ent
anglements are by far the worse offenders in this category.) Don't allow yours
elf to be swept up in your own emotional tidalwave. Think about what your char
acters are
doing, or saying. Is it improbable enough to make a James Bond movie look
like real life?