If your edits aren’t making your book better, just different, then you’ve probably reached the end of what can be done to improve your story. This is true whether the edits in question are your own, whether they’re based on beta-reader feedback, or whether they’re from a professional editor; in each case, when you reach the end of what is substantially improving your book, it’s probably time to move on to the next step.

This does not mean that you’re ready as soon as your individual edits start to go in circles! Outside feedback is critical to the process, as I’ll get into in later points. When your own edits start to circle, it’s a good time to ; after those start to circle, it’s a good idea to to give a more experienced opinion;��then, circling edits become the biggest indication that your book is really ready to go.

While this is not a strict necessity–and I completely understand having a budget that simply doesn’t allow for professional edits–it is a good idea to before you attempt to publish ().

This can indicate readiness in one of two ways (which will put you at two different stages along the process). If you’ve already invested in professional edits, then your book is probably close to ready to publish; see the point above. But if you’re ready to invest in professional edits, that can be a good time to move forward and hire an editor as the first step of the publishing process!

To some degree, this point depends on (authors seeking traditional publishing may be better able to skip this step, as a professional editor will be built into the process after acceptance; that’s not an out-of-pocket expense for trad authors) and your own definition of “ready to publish�� (is that “ready to put on Amazon,�� or “ready to begin the publishing process��?)

Regardless of the nuance, a professional editor will help get your book publication-ready!

This point is particularly relevant to speculative fiction authors. It will help you a lot in the long run to ensure that your story’s setting is completely settled and not likely to change much before you publish your book. This doesn’t necessarily mean that you have to have the entire broader world set in stone! But –and/or the specific cultures –should be well-defined and relatively unchanging before you publish. Once you publish, it’s a lot harder to change things!

when I published Caithan in , during the writing process of . The titular character of Caithan is from a group of Virilens who have been relocated to a neighboring empire, so the culture ought to largely match that of Virilia proper, which is where Calligraphy Guild takes place. Unfortunately, I developed additional elements of Virilen culture while I was working on Calligraphy Guild, which resulted in certain details within Caithan mismatching from those in Calligraphy Guild. Because the characters of Caithan have been displaced from Virilia, it’s a reasonable excuse for cultural changes to have taken place�� but if you finalize the setting as much as possible before you publish, there’s a lower chance of having to explain away disparities between this book and later books.

I would say that this is the biggest indication to look for when considering whether or not your book is ready to publish: Does your book accomplish what it was intended to?

Does it connect with readers the way you wanted it to? Do the intended themes come through the way you planned? Do readers like and dislike the characters you expected/wanted them to? ?

This is where beta-reader feedback can be very helpful. Beta-reader experience should be a key indicator of reader experience as a whole, and getting this feedback prior to publication allows you to make changes accordingly if that reader experience isn’t what you wanted.

If your story accomplishes even more than it was intended to, all the better! It’s also okay if your book ends up fulfilling a purpose different than what you expected, but that different purpose suits the story and remains in line with your overall goals as an author. You probably don’t want your book to give off a pro-Strong-Female-Character vibe by the end if you hate ; but if your book unexpectedly has a deeper spiritual meaning that goes hand-in-hand with the spiritual themes you included intentionally, or if your point was to focus on authority structures and a different facet than you expected of that same theme ends up being the focal point, you’re probably still checking off this box!

This was the biggest indication for me that Calligraphy Guild was ready–and it’s what makes me so proud of Calligraphy Guild to this day. It’s also what helped me for after a season of greatly disliking it.

If your book is and well enough to effectively fulfill its purpose with readers, if you’re getting resounding feedback that yes your purpose came through (ideally not in so many words), it’s probably ready to go out into the world for more people to read!

There are four points I recommend looking for when determining whether or not your book is ready to publish. Which of these points is the easiest for you to spot? Which is the hardest to come by? What do you use as the biggest indication that your book is ready to publish? Comment and share!

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Now that I’m further through the process and can say what actually worked and what didn’t (vs. the 2018 post which I wrote at the beginning��of the process, before it was really tested), here are some of my observations from how this modified editing process worked for Lighting.

If you want to see an in-depth look at how I planned to edit The Heart of the Baenor��(that unpublished 2018 novel), jumping back to that original post is your best bet. But here’s a quick overview, for those who don’t care to see the full failed version and just want an idea of how this new process compares.

In 2018, I had a color-coded system for editing notes. It was largely focused on analyzing the balance of writing elements (dialogue, action, thoughts, etc.), underlining each element in a different color. This ended up being incredibly unhelpful for me, as I don’t work best by simply collecting data and developing solutions from said data, which was essentially what this process set me up to do.

I had a secondary color coding system for a separate list that went scene-by-scene to break down goals, motivations, conflict, etc. in each scene. This was a great idea in theory, but practically speaking I found it unhelpful to have this as an entirely separate list; it’s more helpful to me to be able to see notes like this in the context of the scene itself.

Additionally, I kept a separate document and how it should present itself through each character, which was one of the more helpful elements of the 2018 process (though not one I adopted for Lightning). A couple of other helpful elements:

1. My list of overarching editing notes gathered from a full read-through. In Lightning‘s case, I started this list long before this pass of edits; I’ve made a habit since of starting this list during the drafting process, as things pop up that I know I want to be aware of when I start edits but don’t want to stop the drafting process to fix immediately. For Lightning I added to this through the drafting process, in December () as I watched replays of Nadine Brandes�� self-editing classes from Realm Makers (she has that I’m interested in taking in the future!), then throughout the read-through and annotation process.

2. The fact that I put a tab at the beginning of each chapter for easy navigation and ease of comparing chapter lengths. for Lightning��than I used on The Heart of the Baenor, and I color-coded them based on POV since there are several different POVs in��Lightning. I also added that I move to keep track of where I left off, stuck to the top of the page instead of the side (you can just see it peeking out in the photo below).

Simply marking what was already there was quite unhelpful with The Heart of the Baenor; marking what’s there–while it can help highlight the balance of elements (or lack thereof) and what’s missing–doesn’t really help fix��anything. This time around, I used a color code focused more on actual note-taking, and one that would help divvy up changes based on the actual categories I focus on in different drafts.

I still used two “separate�� color codes, but they looked very different–and both were for use on��the draft itself, not merely separate notes. The first color code and mostly uses highlighters; green highlights mark lines that I like and want to keep, yellow highlights mark lines that immediately stand out as needing to be reworded, and orange highlights mark sentences that just make no sense as-written. Additionally, I use a red pen for marking typos, grammatical errors, and other technical issues in the writing.

The second color code covers all other notes. Dark blue covers plot and scene structure, light blue is for general character notes or notes on side characters, purple is for worldbuilding notes, and then I have different colors for notes relating to each of my primary characters (, as a group). This way, I can make note of different characters�� goals, motivations, etc. in a given scene–serving a similar function to the scene list I made in 2018, but keeping everything in the context of the draft and leaving more room to note different��details for different characters instead of lumping everything together–and also note where specific characters , are operating inconsistently with their values, etc.

(This is the practical division between the two color codes, anyway; on my key sheet, they’re instead separated between character colors (bottom) and everything else (top).)

While I prefer to have most of my editing notes on the manuscript itself, so that everything is kept in context, I do have a couple of separate pages for more overarching notes.

One is the list of big-picture edits noted before; this covers things like entire character arcs, relationship arcs, worldbuilding details that have changed, etc. Things that affect large portions of the book (not just a scene or a chapter) go on that list.

Additionally, I have a page that breaks down each character’s primary and secondary goals. These, too, affect the whole story, so it makes sense to keep them separate to be referenced throughout, to compare scene goals against, etc. This list is split into two parts, with one covering “initial goals�� and the other covering “updated goals,�� as most of the characters have significant goal shifts around the midpoint.

I have other lists–an overarching editing list for Thunder, an overarching editing list for the duology as a whole, a page of notes on how to increase conflict in��Thunder, and a worldbuilding checklist for Esleon–but those are mostly past (the worldbuilding checklist has been completed) or future (everything Thunder-related).

The overarching editing lists will be pulled out when I get to work on the actual application of structural changes to the book.

I have two binders for this editing process; the white binder on the left is approximately a 2-inch binder, and it contains the manuscript itself–because the blue binder on the right is only a 1-inch binder and there was no way the book was going to fit. The manuscript binder holds the manuscript (obviously), my color code key sheet, and a pen case that holds my highlighters. The blue binder holds the overarching editing lists (for Lightning,��Thunder, and the duology), worldbuilding checklist, etc.; it also contains other duology-related materials like my map, synopses of both books, leftover tabs, etc.

Here’s a sneak peek at my current editing timeline for the duology; whether or not it works out according to plan remains to be seen.

Additionally, here’s an idea of what my character goal sheet looks like (color-coded by character).

These give an idea of what types of edits go on the big-picture lists. Some are deep structural changes that affect large portions of the book, while others are smaller details that nevertheless need to be updated throughout the book (such as having changed a character’s name, or having moved the setting to a different part of the state).

This is a peek at my worldbuilding checklist, as it was not��the same as that I post about here on the blog. This list was developed based on , specifically, to give the world more color and depth in ways that influence the story at hand.

Here are some examples of what editing notes look like on this manuscript:

These are the goals of two of the three main characters in the first scene of chapter one. I have these simply noted in the appropriate character’s color, for easy reference to see if those goals hold true throughout the scene, and in Erika’s case I’ve added a note to strengthen her motivation as that part of her goal is unclear.

Here we have an example of goals entering conflict (which is beneficial to a compelling scene). Of course, the conflict doesn’t start in the right place/from the right character; the most likely scenario is that I’ll shift around the dialogue of the scene so that Ash is more careful/reserved with his words and Erika is the one stirring up trouble. (I didn’t like Ash’s line of dialogue here, anyway, so it works out nicely to scrap it.)

Here, a goal fails to make sense (which is less beneficial to a compelling scene, lol). Here, a simple shift in the focus of the prose in this area should remove the implication of a goal that doesn’t exist.

Sometimes, the events of a scene shift a character’s goals in a more intentional direction; that’s also important to note, to ensure that the character’s behavior shifts along with that goal.

Here’s an example of what one of my “scene/plot structure�� notes might look like. I have a lot of these at chapter openings and chapter endings, whether the comment is specifically on how the chapter opens or closes (often, my chapter endings need work) or it’s a summary of my thoughts on the structure of a chapter as a whole (I have several of those, as well, especially on chapters that need lots of restructuring, need to be moved, or need to be cut entirely).

Lastly, this is just an example of a chapter that was lighter on notes vs. one that was especially heavy on notes; the volume of notes can differ a lot from chapter to chapter, as some are already stronger or weaker than others. (Chapter 20 was quite weak.) Though it may also be helpful to note that the chapters that need to be cut or moved entirely often have the fewest in-line notes; notes on those tend to be concentrated at the end, as described previously. Chapter 20 is an example of a chapter that has a good premise and serves a purpose that should be retained, but which was executed very poorly and needs a lot of work in order to fulfill its purpose��effectively.

(It should be noted that while I have skimmed the above pages for spoilers and I don’t believe they contain anything major, any zooming-in is done at your own risk.)

With all of Lightning annotated, I’ll be moving on to working through��Thunder–which will happen in two stages, because Thunder��has more significant weaknesses in the structural department. The first stage for��Thunder��will be going through it on the computer to add scenes and chapters that need to be added, move things around, etc. After that’s done and I have a more workable foundation to work from, I’ll print it out and go through the same annotation process I used for Lightning.

After both books are annotated, I intend to go through a similar process to what I used for Calligraphy Guild. I’ll work on underlying structural changes first–adding, removing, and rearranging things–then have a separate draft focused on each primary character to flesh out their arcs, smooth out their voices, , etc. Worldbuilding fixes will also get a designated draft, after all of the characters have been addressed. Once all of the fundamentals have been fixed (which may require for certain stages to be repeated), I’ll go through and clean up whatever prose issues are left behind before .

This process–of focusing a separate draft on each of these elements–should be made easier by the fact that my notes were set up to correspond with each of those drafts, something I was able to set up intentionally as I thought about what worked with Calligraphy Guild��and how to combine my past two editing processes into a single approach that would be well-suited to��Lightning.

Have you ever used an editing process similar to this one? Which part of the process most stood out to you? Do you have any questions? Comment below!

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Note: Due to the nature of the topic, this post does include spoilers for Warehouse 13, Arcane, and The Maze Runner trilogy.

You probably already know this–on an instinctual level as a reader if not from an authorial perspective–but character deaths must have an impact on the story in order to feel meaningful to the reader. There must be some sort of impact on the story and/or the characters left behind, or else the death feels like a cheap trick used for shock value.

I would say that The Death Cure falls into this shock-value trap when Newt dies (along with a few others, but Newt’s death stands out the most). Newt’s death has little long-term impact on Thomas, despite their close friendship throughout the series (and the circumstances of Newt’s death), and feels like it has very little bearing on the remainder of the story, either. While it did impact me as a reader because I cared about Newt as a character (more on that point in a moment), it also made me incredibly mad at James Dashner because it felt like it was solely included to shock and dismay the reader, not because it added any meaningful benefit to the story being told. Death matters, it’s a tragic thing, and throwing it in for shock value cheapens its potency.

On the other side of the coin, some character deaths have a purpose to the story but little emotional impact for the reader (and/or the characters around the deceased). While these are forgivable because they do have meaning, and sometimes they are necessary, these can still be overdone and inadvertently cheapen the idea of death in your story. You don’t want to do that, either, so use these sparingly and (at least as a general rule) only for minor characters/”extras.�� (It also is possible to use some of the tips in this post on a toned-down scale to make sure these “minor�� deaths don’t feel cheap.)

When a primary or secondary character dies, it should matter–to the story, to the characters around them, and to the reader. That level of impact is what I hope this post will help you achieve.

This is the most critical element of making a character death meaningful to your reader. If they don’t care about the character, they �ɴDz�’t care (much) when that character dies. There is no one guaranteed way to ensure that your reader connects with your character, because that will depend on your reader’s specific personality and preferences, but there are obviously still ways to increase the connection between your character and readers!

The most obvious step is to ensure that your character is , thoroughly fleshed out, and , (ideally one that your reader can relate to on some level). Your reader should be able to understand and empathize with your character’s goals and motivations, and perhaps have (especially if you bring this back around to play some role in the context of their death).

Another element that can be a huge point of connection between the character and the reader is . Even if your character is drastically different from your reader in personality, lifestyle, etc., an older sister character will still be relatable to your older-sister readers because of . The same applies to all sorts of relationships; your reader will connect with familiar connections just as much as (if not more so than) they will connect with familiar traits.

Up to this point, we’ve discussed what a character death needs to be and how it needs to be set up. From here on out, we’ll get into what elements need to surround the character death itself in order to lend it the impact it needs.

This is probably the most effective element toward making a character death impactful to your readers, because just as your reader will connect with the character who has died, they will have also connected with the surrounding characters, and they will feel the impact of the deceased character’s death with (and through) the characters left behind.

There are two character deaths in the latter seasons of Warehouse 13, and I think that this is the core reason why one of them hits me harder than the other. With one, the viewer is shown the immediate reaction of all of the surrounding characters. (This death gets me every time I watch the show.) With the other, the character reactions are delayed and–for most of the characters–shorter-lived. While both character deaths are well-done, and I’m sure that part of the disparity is also my personal level of investment in each of the deceased characters rather than the writing, I think that the immediacy and depth of the character reactions surrounding the first death mentioned add to the impact.

Obviously, not all character deaths lend themselves to immediate reactions from other characters, and you shouldn’t try to shoehorn them in where they don’t fit! But giving depth to those reactions as early as is reasonable will help add to the impact of the character’s death on your reader. of revealing character reactions to a death, but they can also be overused, so consider whether a funeral is the best way to do this (or adds to the story in some other way) or whether a more “casual�� scenario might work better and offer greater impact to your reader. Funerals have the weakness of providing some closure to the reader and characters, which can resolve the emotions surrounding a character’s death (for the detached reader, at least; maybe not the invested characters), which can decrease the impact of a character death when used too early.

to a character’s death–due to differing personalities, different relationships with the deceased, etc. All of them can add to the impact of your character’s death–including those that clash with one another. If one character has a very emotional response to a character death while another acts cold (whether due to genuine callousness or in order to hide their own grief), this can highlight and draw out even more of a response from that emotional character to emphasize the impact the deceased character had on those around them.

Showing a variety of reactions to a character’s death can also communicate a lot about the surviving characters to your reader, deepening the reader’s connection with those characters as the story moves along after them.

While not a critical point, a character death that prevents a character from accomplishing their goal or fulfilling their perceived role can have added impact as it leaves your reader with a lack of closure that can add to the wrongness of the character’s death.

I believe this clear sense of failure is another reason that the one Warehouse 13 death has more impact to me than the other; while both characters fail in their immediate goals at the time of their deaths, one goal has been established for longer and is more clearly cut short by the character’s death.

There are two ways to move on from this point, and either can add to the emotional impact and storytelling strength of a character death. One is for the dying character to pass the baton–either with their dying words (as is especially common with mentor characters, in particular) or in a will/letter found afterward (whether they expected to die–which can add its own sense of impact–or whether they planned to pass along the goal/role more personally but died before they had the chance). The other is to leave the goal/role hanging, in which case the surviving characters will need to determine how to pick up that goal/role on their own or adjust their plans to work without that goal/role fulfilled.

Consider whether your character’s death has a greater impact on your story before or after the deceased character has accomplished their goal/fulfilled their role–and, if a lack of closure is the better fit, what sort of internal and external conflicts may result as that gap demands to be filled or bypassed.

On the flip side, you can use a character death to fulfill a character’s goal/role–especially if that goal/role involves protecting other characters. While this offers some sense of closure, which I’ve talked about weakening emotional impact in some cases, it does so in such a way that the closure almost feels wrong in and of itself because the character had to die to accomplish that closure. It makes closure cost.

You can influence the degree of closure vs. lack thereof depending on whether or not the other characters expected the deceased character to accomplish their goal/role this way, as well; a character death that accomplishes the character’s goal/fulfills their role in a way that they expected but the other characters didn’t can still be shown as a shock and “wrong�� way for the goal to have been accomplished, through the characters who weren’t expecting it and can’t accept that this was how the goal was reached.

In some cases–again, especially in which the deceased character’s goal/role was to protect others–a character’s death can simultaneously fulfill their goal/role and leave it incomplete/vacant. Early in Arcane, for example, Vander plays a fatherly role to the main sister characters; when he dies, he does so protecting them–fulfilling his role–but he also leaves them (and the larger group he’s responsible for) without a protector and must pass that role on to the older sister he died protecting.

The majority of the time, fake character deaths are unnecessary and resurrections cheapen death. However, this is not always true. Fake deaths, in particular, can be done well when the story calls for it. Often, fake deaths work best when they take advantage of the reader’s skepticism (“show me a body or he’s not actually dead��), offering enough evidence to make the reader wonder and ensure the ultimate reveal isn’t completely predictable, but leaving enough doubt that they don’t feel like the rug was ripped out from under them–and the character’s grave–when the character turns out to not actually be dead.

Fake deaths and resurrections are both best used sparingly, but this is especially true of resurrections. Resurrection, overdone, cheapens death more than anything else. When no one stays dead, death loses all weight and meaning–and all of its impact, as a result. The DC comic shows on the CW were especially guilty of this, which was part of why I stopped watching them (among other reasons). That said, a once-in-a-blue-moon resurrection with clear purpose can be done well.

In order to pull off a resurrection that your readers can get behind, make sure that it makes sense with your world, characters, plot, etc., and make sure that there are consequences. Resurrection should pretty much never be easy or without consequence. Resurrection goes against (in almost all scenarios), and there are going to be challenges and consequences to going against the natural law of the world. Keeping this in mind will not only help your reader accept a thought-through resurrection, but also keep you from pulling out this trick too many times.

Have you killed off a character before? Are there any character deaths from books or TV/movies that stood out to you as especially impactful? What do you think made them work? Comment below!

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Since this book concludes the Scorch trilogy, here is the blurb from book one rather than DragonFire itself:

What is Robbing Centaurs and Other Bad Ideas��about?

Wick the tree messenger is bound for success. His career as a messenger is better than it’s ever been, and he’s on the fast track to getting an even more important job as a councilor. But before he can succeed, word spreads that a thief is after the most powerful magic in Aro, the Heather Stone, and stealing it piece by piece. To be safe, Wick is entrusted with moving one of the stones to a safer location.

On his journey, Wick is overtaken by the thief himself, a seraph named Archer, but Archer’s plans as he explains them are nothing like what everyone thinks. Wick doesn’t know what to believe, but Archer seems so sure. Wick’s options are limited: ignore Archer and keep his piece of the Heather Stone out of potentially dangerous hands, or choose to trust this thief and the warning he brings.

Something is coming. An ancient scourge that could destroy all of Aro. All that stands in its way are an uncertain messenger and an untrustworthy thief.

If he chooses wrong, Wick could lose everything.

Prior to reading DragonFire and Other Nonsense, I went back and reread both��Robbing Centaurs and Other Bad Ideas��and World Saving and Other Disasters–and I’m quite happy to have done so, both because they’re fun in their own right and because I was able to note details and plot threads that were introduced in prior books and fulfilled in DragonFire and Other Nonsense.

Robbing Centaurs is a fun, witty fantasy adventure that has made me laugh out loud multiple times, and it’s a bright and bold introduction to the story, world, and characters of the Scorch trilogy.

World Saving and Other Disasters is easily the weakest installment of the trilogy, in my opinion, but by no means a weak one! While some of the writing is a bit weaker in��World Saving��than in its fellows and some moments feel a bit like a repeat of Robbing Centaurs, it offers a tonal transition point between books, features a role-reversal that is fascinating to see play out, and offers particularly “cozy�� scenes that I loved reading. While I may consider it a 4- or 4.5-star read rather than a 5-star, it is absolutely still a worthwhile and enjoyable installment to the series.

That brings us to DragonFire and Other Nonsense. It can be difficult to review a sequel without massive spoilers, but this book has plenty of heart��underneath the plot points to make the task easier.

DragonFire��is the longest and most intense book in the series; everything else ramps up toward and prepares for this climax–and, boy, what a climax it is.

While Meyer does a great job through the majority of the series of matching the level of plot intensity to the level of emotional intensity (for the characters and the reader), I think that most shines through in DragonFire and Other Nonsense.��It can be difficult to pull off such heightened action and emotion–especially where both��are involved–without overwhelming the reader or coming across as melodramatic, but Meyer does a beautiful job in DragonFire of including enough peaceful moments to keep things balanced and ensuring that all of the higher action and emotion feels incredibly meaningful. (Part of this, of course, is laid out through the previous books, as she gets you invested in the characters while the stakes are lower so that you care��when things come to a head.)

Look, a lot of what I’m going to talk about in this review is heart��and��emotion, because that is definitely a strong point of this book. It’s rare that a book makes me feel��a whole lot for the characters–and even more rare if a book gets me to tear up or outright cry. While I did not cry while reading��DragonFire, I did tear up once or twice and I certainly felt a great deal–both empathizing with and worrying for the characters. Meyer manages to capture very real emotions on the page, translating them into meaningful prose and dialogue that makes you realize, “I’ve felt that.��

On a more superficial note, the world expands in this book! Y’all know I love a good expansive world. I started to wonder about the world outside Aro during my reread of World Saving and Other Disasters, and I felt well-rewarded by��DragonFire and Other Nonsense. Paradoxically, DragonFire��is perhaps the most geographically contained book of the series. Do with that what you will (or, you know, just go read the trilogy).

DragonFire and Other Nonsense��is the strongest Scorch book in terms of its writing, which contributes to its effectiveness in the emotional department. While the previous books are not, as a whole, poorly written, DragonFire takes the series to a new level and offers probably the most immersive and rewarding reading experience of the series (Robbing Centaurs competes, but its tone is so different that it would be a difficult comparison)–which secures the skillful storytelling and helps��DragonFire and Other Nonsense stand up as a fulfilling end to the trilogy’s arc.

I would be remiss to finish this review without dedicating time the characters, as they are the beating heart of the entire Scorch trilogy. Archer and Wick, as well as their friendship, grow and develop so much over the course of the trilogy, and DragonFire��brings their arcs to a beautiful conclusion that makes perfect sense for each of them. They contribute so much to one another’s growth, and seeing the culmination of their friendship and all they’ve been through and learned is such a satisfying ending to their story (even if I wished that story could just never��end, lol). Not only that, but the side characters drawn together (and those newly introduced) in DragonFire and Other Nonsense contribute their own depth and influence to the main story and the main character arcs, in addition to being engaging on their own merit, and DragonFire offers the opportunity to get to know a number of them more deeply–especially Fowl, Twill, and Ongel.

Overall, DragonFire and Other Nonsense is just an excellent book as well as an excellent trilogy conclusion, and I would highly recommend checking out the Scorch trilogy if you haven’t already!

Rating: 5 stars

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For the purposes of this post, I’m discussing that first big case of “writer’s block�� after you’ve started a new story. For some reason, it seems that has a tendency to hit around the chapter-eight mark, or after 10-20k words. In my own personal experience, it’s also more prevalent when “pantsing�� a story vs. working on a story that has , but that could just be a personal issue; if this “chapter 8 slump�� is a problem you’ve faced, I’d love to hear in the comments whether you’re usually a “pantser�� or a “plotter��!

Here’s the thing: Every new story idea loses its luster and causes the author’s momentum to falter. As Rick Riordan put it,

“Writing a book is always hard work. It’s much easier to think of new ideas. You’ll get to the middle of the manuscript and you’ll think, ‘Oh, this is too hard. I’ll start another book instead and that will be easier.�� DON’T! That new book �ɴDz�’t be any easier.��

Part of having a strong defense against the chapter 8 slump is to expect it and prepare for it ahead of time. One way to do this is to outline your project ahead of time–however that works best for you. I like to use K.M. Weiland’s * as a reference when I’m outlining a new novel, but I’ve used less “structured�� methods in the past as well. One major cause of the chapter 8 slump can be not knowing what comes next, and plotting your story ahead of time bypasses this problem.

It can also help to . Fueling your writing process with discipline over momentum might not make the chapter 8 slump disappear, or make the next steps of your story easier to figure out, but it can help keep you going despite the slump and get you through to the other side–the point at which writing becomes easier again.

But even if outlining isn’t your thing and this season of your life doesn’t allow for a consistent writing habit, simply knowing that the slump will come and preparing yourself mentally–as well as arming yourself with some of the mid-slump tips that follow–can make it easier to navigate and push through.

The chapter 8 slump has two primary causes, in my experience:

Both of these causes can be helped by going back to the beginning and rereading what you’ve already written of a project. In the mad dash of getting the beginning of a story onto paper, we can lose track of details slipped in and plot points alluded to, even by the time we get to chapter eight. Backtracking can help us expose these forgotten details, which can sometimes help spark new ideas for the next portion of the story.

Sometimes, there are no specific details we’ve lost, but revisiting the beginning of the story as a reader–or with an editor’s eye–can help us trace the goals and actions of our characters to clarify what they would realistically do next.

This rediscovery of plot can sometimes even be the catalyst to reignite your excitement over a project! But sometimes, when lack of excitement is the problem, you need to go back without analyzing so much; you need to go back about this project–whether it’s a certain character, certain details, the setting, a plot point you’re working toward, etc.

In some cases, this story may have lost its luster to you because you feel that the story on the page isn’t living up to the vision you had for it in your mind. Then, you may have to go back beyond the start of your draft to what that vision was. What excited you about it? What are the core elements of that vision, that you can focus on implementing as you move forward? The hard part is that you will also have to acknowledge that your draft probably �ɴDz�’t live up to that vision initially–but that doesn’t mean you can’t use this project , or make that vision come to life more clearly in the editing stages! The only way you’re guaranteed not to capture your vision on the page is if you give up. So keep at it!

While revisiting the earlier part of your story may be sufficient to give you the next steps, sometimes it takes a little more dedicated brainstorming time to determine what’s holding a story back and what needs to happen next.

If you’re still struggling, pull out an empty document or notebook page, , and start testing ideas. List everything that could happen next, no matter how crazy. and consider what might happen if those were pushed too far. Think about what sorts of scenes, settings, and situations would further your vision for this story.

Once you’ve come up with as many possibilities as you can, go back and filter them for those that make the most sense for your story and/or interest you the most!

Sometimes the chapter 8 slump hits because we’ve genuinely written ourselves into a corner. Hopefully, through revisiting earlier parts of the story and/or brainstorming, you’ll be able to identify when this is the problem. Sometimes characters , the plot goes in an unsustainable direction, , etc. When this happens, it can sometimes warrant completely deleting portions of your draft (or relocating them to a separate document, if you don’t like to permanently delete anything) and starting over from a previous point.

This can be difficult, especially when you’re struggling to make forward progress and it feels like you’re backtracking and losing ground! But removing what doesn’t serve the story and replacing it with something that��does��can actually enable you to make more forward progress than you would have otherwise, and will ultimately serve the good of your story as a whole.

Sometimes we chase a story too far, too fast and we end up burned out. In these cases, no amount of preparation, revisiting, or brainstorming is going to solve the problem; the only effective solution is to . This can mean a number of different things. Maybe you need to take a break from writing entirely and , or maybe you just need to switch over to a different project until you can come back to this one with a clearer head and increased energy again. Maybe you need to focus on a different creative outlet for a little while. Maybe you just need to give yourself enough space from this project for your mind to start working in the background to solve whatever problem has you blocked. Whatever the case, rest from a project is sometimes the best option.

Just make sure (if your burnout is mild) that you make a plan to come back to the project after a certain amount of time has passed, so it doesn’t accidentally end up in the indefinite archives!

Have you faced the “chapter 8 slump�� before? What have been your most effective tools against it? Share in the comments!

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I have spent the last seventeen years learning my writing craft and studying publishing trends, for which of my books. Publishing has come a long way since then. It’s come a long way since I studied publishing in college, which was a course I took for my degree. (Officially, I have a BA in History and a Minor in Creative Writing, though I have enough credits to count for a second BA in English/Creative Writing, though it is unofficial.) And that’s only my college education. This doesn’t account for the multiple classes outside of college I’ve taken hosted by conferences and online colleges leading up to this point.

Suffice it to say, I know a little about the publishing industry and have seen trends come and go, as well as pervasive fears about what publishing can look like. And here I am, your resident overthinking author, to give you a little calming moment to set your mind at ease if you’re afraid of traditional publishing.

First, let’s define some terms.

Traditional publishing is a method of publishing by which an author, via an agent, is picked up by a publishing house (such as Random House and their imprints, for example). The publishing house does the heavy lifting with the editor, cover designer, formatter, some marketing, and various other street team things. This should cost the author generally nothing, as the agent makes their fee from a portion of the advance you receive. (You are more likely to receive an advance than royalties in trad publishing. This is a lump sum at once as opposed to a constant stream of money.)

is when the author either uses a small publishing house that does not require an agent to be seen or owns their own house (or buys their own ISBNs). If the author is picked up by a small independently owned press by someone else, the editing may be part of the deal, or they may need to outsource their own editor. Furthermore, if the author owns their own house, everything is on them. By far, this is the most expensive way of publishing a book, because you are generally footing some part of the bill to pay the indie house to help publish your book, with the expectation they will help market you and you’ll make that money back. And even if the author owns their own house/ISBNs, it’s still very expensive, because they outsource editors, formatters, cover artists, so on, so forth, and then do all the marketing. But generally, you have more creative freedom if you do it all by yourself.

I cannot speak for an indie press that publishes other authors�� books, but the idea is that indie presses in general give authors more creative freedom.

Thus, the number one fear I’ve seen across Facebook writing groups and other writing groups, in-person and otherwise, is that traditional publishing strips the author of their agency and creative freedom, and will force a (generally religious) author to write things they don’t want to write.

And this just isn’t the case. In all my years of being in the traditional and indie publishing worlds (which I must say are not separate, but a nice Venn Diagram—mmm, I love diagrams��) I have never seen an author being forced to write something with a value set they don’t align with.

If a publishing company wants to publish a book with a certain theme/plot/character, they are going to find a book with that theme/plot/character that they want and not find something that maybe vaguely fits what they want and then force a writer to give them what they want. It’s just not how they operate.

I believe all of the writing conferences I’ve been to have actually been what would be considered “secular�� and all the agents and editors actively advocate for their authors. That’s what their job is. They want their author to succeed.

Just like you can deny an edit , you can also decide not to apply an edit that your editor or even sensitivity reader from a publishing house gives you. It’s not a make-or-break. They �ɴDz�’t drop you.

It’s what contracts are for. I know contracts may seem Faustian, but really, all they are for is to make sure both parties, (in this case, the author and publishing house, or the author and agent) are going to uphold their ends of the contract. (Payments. Rights. Values.) An author can put into their contract that they �ɴDz�’t write certain things (smut, for example) and if the publishing house suddenly is like “You must write the smut!�� (which, they �ɴDz�’t. But, for the sake of the example, bear with me), the author just needs to point to their contract. If the publishing house forces them, then there could be a breach of contract. Which could be a lawsuit.

That’s not a suit that looks good on anybody.

Contracts are nice. If you are truly afraid of being forced to write against a value set, put it into a contract. Work it with an agent or a lawyer who works with authors. I think too often in fiction, contracts are seen as traps, but as a person who has collaborated with multiple lawyers both for my work and in my personal life, it’s just a way of life. Nobody wants to trap you. I promise.

Here are two anecdotes about authors about value sets, and creative freedom in trad publishing.

The first is one I heard from Mekisha Telfer, the editor who worked on To All the Boys I Loved Before, during a panel at a SCBWI in 2018. She takes on a lot of (moreso now than at the time of the anecdote) and that sort of value set. In this instance, she was working on a book where the author had her main character “come out�� to their friend group. The friend group embraced the friend with open arms and “came out�� as well. She actually said this was unrealistic, and to take away some of the acceptance, for the sake of the plot and tension. Which was great writing advice. If the main character never faces any opposition, where’s the story? I’m sure the author wanted a positive YA LGBTQ+ book, but now had to think critically about . I don’t remember what the author chose to do. But I do know that the author wasn’t forced to do anything, just to think critically about their plot. That’s all they were required to do.

The second anecdote is about an author named Sophie Lark, who did not decide to apply edits that sensitivity readers mentioned. Book became published. So�� while this is an interesting sort of topic. It’s a hot topic actually. Without weighing in on the topic of whether or not Ms. Lark should have applied the edits, Bloom Books still published her book. I wanted to mention this one, because of the creative freedom Ms. Lark retained within the trad publishing world. I do not wish to engage on whether or not she should have applied the edits that were presented to her by the sensitivity readers.

I do want to mention for a moment now, how to get rid of these pervasive fears that plague authors stepping toward publishing their books.

Fear breeds fear. If you are finding yourself in a writer’s group that is constantly drumming fear around certain publishing paths (there is also an undercurrent of fear in the indie world), and they cannot be reached through critical thinking, or conversation without cyclical arguments, or without the “I heard it from my cousin’s sister’s mother-in-law’s coworker’s friend’s daughter’s teacher’s college volleyball coach that ‘this one thing�� happened,�� it may be time to with people that can help you find the correct path for your project. You need to find a group with people from all sorts of publishing paths, and all stages in their writing journeys to help you figure out where to go.

Publishing is not an absolute path. There is no right or wrong. It is the right option for a particular project at a certain time. For my book, Pondered in her Heart: A Novel of the American Revolution, while, yes, I did have various “value set�� creative freedom fears at the time (due to the constant drumming of fears of a writer’s group I was in at the time of drafting it), I decided it was best to take it the indie route for various technical reasons, such as the multi-genre aspect, branding, so on, so forth.

Did I look into traditional? Yes. Did I decide on indie for that book? Yes. I have other projects I have set for trad publishing tracks and others for my own ISBNs that I had purchased in the bundle. And that is fine. No author or agent or publishing house will look at me sideways. (In fact, the aforementioned Bloom Books apparently loves finding and publishing previously indie published authors.)

You’re not limited to one type of publishing for the rest of your life.

Lastly, I highly recommend joining organizations and going to conferences. You can join the or and go to their conferences. You can check out the , which has everything from ‘secular�� to ‘Christian�� books.) Historical conferences. Find your niche. Find your organization. Join. Check your libraries. Go to classes and small conferences. It’s your gateway into the publishing world, to see what it is like. And it’s eye-opening as well as anxiety-relieving.

The first conference I ever went to was when I was a sophomore in college, when I was nineteen. It was a small convention in Atlantic City, New Jersey, and it had all sorts of authors, from science fiction to thriller and mystery. I was�� by far the youngest writer there (I was unpublished at the time) and everybody was so welcoming, even the “scary�� editors who were just exceedingly good at their jobs, who regarded writing so highly as an art. I got to see the trad publishing world for the first time there.

Here’s another anecdote I’ll leave you with. I was talking with illustrator Pat Cummings at a SCBWI conference, as she signed my art book. She asked me how my meeting with Mekisha Telfer went, and I said “oh, it went amazingly. She loved my story. But she doesn’t think it’s actually a YA but a NA or an Adult novel�� and she looked at me weirdly and said “you don’t need to agree with that. You can take it to another editor or another agent and have them look at it.��

In the end, I agreed with Ms. Telfer. I thought it was in my best interest to look more into the NA or Adult low fantasy for this particular project I presented to her. But I think about Ms. Cummings’s words a lot. I’m free to do what I want. I don’t need to listen and can get second and third and fourth opinions. Even in the traditional publishing world.

You are free. You are fine. You have free will. Don’t worry. And if you are still afraid, I think it’s time to . I probably need to do that too, to be honest.

K. Orme is a cross-genre historical fiction author, watercolor artist, and cosplay performer. She is based in central Virginia, and when she is not writing, she is working at her sewing machine, auditioning for a local musical production, or practicing for a vocal gig. She has an Australian Shepherd named Petitaire (after Grantaire from Les Miserables) that is her service dog, and she is an advocate for representing invisible disabilities in fiction. She has spoken at the Historical Novel Society (North American Branch) on the topic of including disability representation specifically in historical fiction. As of 2025, she will have been in the writing and publishing industry for seventeen years.

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Did this post address fears you had surrounding the traditional publishing route? Did it spark new questions about publishing options or one route or the other? Comment below!

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Since subscribing to a number of clean fantasy authors�� newsletters, I’ve come across a disappointing trend. A lot of clean fantasy books have really unimpressive covers. The same is often true of indie authors, as a whole. You know the old adage “don’t judge a book by its cover,�� and that’s great in principle, but when it comes to books, readers really do judge books by their covers. As a reader myself I can attest to this. Heck, it’s why I’m writing this post.

The fact is, that’s not a bad thing. Cover art should��communicate, and part of the weakness of a lot of clean fantasy and indie covers is that they’re communicating poorly–whether they’re communicating something undesirable about the quality of the book or they’re simply communicating something incorrect about the story inside. (Genre conventions matter in cover design!)

Here are some ways you can be mindful of whether or not your book cover is communicating effectively, and aim for a design that accurately represents your book.

You don’t need to be a graphic designer in order to get a good cover; that’s what cover designers are for. But you should have some understanding of basic design principles, on some level, or you’re not going to be able to discern between what is really a good cover design and what’s not–or how to tweak a design draft–when you’re selecting and working with a cover designer. You should understand what colors complement one another, how much contrast is needed, appropriate proportions and alignment for both images and text, how much “white space�� is necessary to keep a design from looking cluttered, etc.

If you’re an indie on a low budget and you’re determined to make your own cover, this becomes even more important and you need to invest even more time in learning and understanding the principles of design so that your cover doesn’t look��“homemade.�� You’ll also want to invest in high-quality design elements (images and fonts) and good photo editing software (I recommend ). For in-depth but affordable design courses, consider taking a look at *.

Cover design is built on the basic fundamentals of graphic design as a whole, but there are certain considerations that are unique to cover design. For example, you will need to be aware of how legible your title font is at thumbnail size when readers are scrolling through Amazon search results. You’ll also need to be aware of how well your cover prints when you get a proof copy; make sure nothing comes out pixelated, the colors are still complementary, all of the text is legible, etc.

As a part of understanding cover design, specifically, you need to understand the genre conventions of covers. Urban fantasy covers have a particular “look�� distinct from the epic fantasy “look,�� distinct from the space opera “look,�� distinct from the cozy romance “look,�� and so on. If you’re not sure what your genre tends to look like in terms of cover design, take a look at your sub-genre on Amazon and take note of the commonalities in design choices.

Do not underestimate the importance of this step. I’ve seen clean romance books that I skimmed over because their covers didn’t communicate “clean�� to me; I’ve seen urban fantasy authors rebrand their covers to look more like generic fantasy covers that would draw me in only to disappoint me when I read the urban fantasy blurb. Make sure that you’re appealing to (and repelling) the right readers. If a reader likes fantasy but not urban fantasy, appealing to them with a plain fantasy cover isn’t going to make them more likely to read your book; it’s only more likely to make them frustrated with you.

Everything about your cover communicates–your color scheme, font choice, imagery selection, etc. It’s your job, as the author who knows the story inside, to ensure that the cover you choose (or design) is communicating what you want��it to communicate about your book,��to��the right��readers, and in a��cohesive��manner. If your color scheme and overall imagery say “dark fantasy�� but your font choice says “cozy,�� potential readers are likely to be confused; cohesion matters.

Make sure your cover communicates the genre, tone, and general content of your story, and that it does so in a way that makes sense to and appeals to your��readers. A really simple way to do this (though not necessarily an��easy��thing) is to look at your cover as��a reader and ask yourself what you would assume of the contents (and quality) of the book based on the cover alone. Would it draw you in? Would you overlook it as shoddily made? Would it tell you the general tone and topic of the book? Or would you be confused as to what the book is about?

I love finding good clean fantasy and indie books. While decreasingly rare, they can still be hard to find amidst the not-“clean�� fantasy and unpolished indie books. We need more independent authors who understand how to step into the reader’s shoes and think about whether or not the cover they’ve chosen will draw someone’s attention or if it will just be overlooked on the bookshelf or as a reader is scrolling through Amazon/ŷ������.

If your goal as a clean fantasy author is to bless your readers with something they can easily trust to not have sex scenes or language or whatever else we don’t want to read–or even if you’re just an indie author whose goal is to bless readers with something unique that didn’t have to pass through corporate gatekeepers to get in their hands–bless them by making your book stand out on a shelf, too, so that they can actually find it to read it. There may be some fabulously written books out there that readers will never know are fabulously written because the cover doesn’t make them interested enough to even look.

Now, this is not to say that all clean fantasy or indie books have boring covers. I know several authors who write indie and/or clean books and have wonderful covers (Miranda Marie, Abbie Emmons, C.G. Drews, Brooke Riley��), but it appears to be a general rule that clean fantasy has dull covers and indie covers are very��hit-or-miss.

As a reader and author of clean and indie fantasy, I just want to ask a simple favor of any other indie authors out there: Please pay attention to your covers. Please put effort into them. has fairly affordable pre-made covers, if you want to start there. has been great for custom covers, in my experience. Whether you find something pre-made or get something custom made, give thought to your cover and understand what makes a cover work��so that you can ensure that your own covers do the work you want (and need) them to do.

Readers, what is your biggest turn-off in book covers?

Indie authors, what is your biggest challenge in finding/designing quality covers?

Comment below!

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Before you develop individual cultures�� views of providence and luck, it’s beneficial to have an idea of what those terms really mean in your world and who (or what) is truly responsible for events occurring the way that they do. Is your world guided by a sovereign god/pantheon? Do things really come about by chance or luck? Are events steered primarily by man’s choices?

Knowing how things truly work in your world will inform the patterns your cultures will be able to observe, which will inform their beliefs even if only in small measure. It’s harder for your characters to maintain a belief that reality shapes itself around man’s choices if they can see a pattern of events occurring contrary to man’s choices, for example. They may still cling to that belief for other reasons, but will show itself and alter, prove, or disprove in the process.

is likely to play a significant role in their perception of providence and fortune. If they believe in a sovereign god/pantheon, that may settle the matter entirely; they may believe strictly in providence ordained by their god(s). If, on the other hand, they believe in less powerful gods, or gods who intentionally allow men to make mistakes and forge their own fortune–for good or ill–then this may be much less clear-cut. There may be more room in the latter scenario for your culture to believe in man-made destiny; in some impersonal and ethereal “fate,�� “luck,�� etc.; or in some combination of providence, man-made fortune, and “luck.��

Think about the character of your culture’s god(s). Are they personal or impersonal? Omnipotent/omniscient or limited in power and knowledge? What is their perceived design for humanity–or do they even have one? All of these factors may go into your culture’s perception of their gods�� influence on the direction their lives take.

Man doesn’t generally like to relinquish control of things. This is certainly true in the real world, and it’s probably true of mankind in your created world as well ( may be prone to this same weakness, or may avoid this pitfall in favor of different weaknesses). Many like to believe that man can shape his own destiny, determine his own fortune, make his own luck. Whether or not this is true in your world, at its core, there are likely to be cultures that believe this–and many cultures that believe it in part even if they don’t believe that man is the primary driver of events.

Your culture might believe, for example, that the decisions of men are responsible for all things. They’ll have to create an explanation for how it works out when individuals have competing interests and take competing actions, but perhaps this is their belief. Or maybe instead they believe that life is primarily driven by some impersonal “fate,�� but it can be influenced by man’s choices and “fate�� may take an interest in individuals–perhaps some individuals are naturally more in favor with “fate,�� in this culture’s view, due to their connection with magic or for some other reason. Or perhaps they believe that the gods have the final say in events, but that they may bow to man’s requests from time to time, or work in cooperation with man. Some relatively few cultures may, of course, take the more extreme position of believing that their god(s) are fully sovereign and their own activities follow a course set by said god(s), with no effect of their own.

The question of providence/luck/fortune is, ultimately, a question of man’s agency, and how highly your culture thinks of itself and the design of man (or other races).

This is an influence that may be easy to overlook, but can play a part in how they view providence, etc., because their environment forms the shape of the world that they’re most closely observing. It’s a bit like the illustration of the blind men and the elephant; different cultures in your world are all observing the same world with the same fundamental laws, but a mariner culture will be most familiar with the patterns reflected in the sea, a mountain-dwelling culture will be most familiar with the rugged, solid nature of the mountains, a desert-dwelling culture will be most familiar with the shifting and unforgiving desert, etc., and these observations may then carry over into their conception of the nature and patterns of the world’s metaphysics as well as its physics.

Take that mariner culture, for example. If they apply their observations of the sea to be reflective of the metaphysical reality of time and providence, then they may see fortune as a fluid thing that passes in repeated cycles. They may also acknowledge that it has moments that are less predictable, wilder and more surprising, that throw things out of the comfortable order one may have been used to. Perhaps they believe that man can steer through destiny, but will have the most success when he steers in tandem with the natural flow of providence.

You don’t have to tie your culture’s view of providence quite so closely to their observations of the natural world, but it is worth noting that cultures which have done less to divorce natural revelation from the metaphysics underlying their world may draw heavily on that natural revelation in their efforts to understand those metaphysics. Of course, your culture may have undergone this divorce of the physical and metaphysical, in which case their environment may have very little to do with their perception of providence, except perhaps as vestiges from a previous time prior to that division.

None of what this post has covered has any bearing unless it impacts , , and go about their daily lives, since that is what matters in your storytelling. The good news is, the matter of providence can influence those things quite a bit!

Your culture’s view on providence and luck can affect your character’s voice, which can then be reflected in and (if you’re writing in 1st person or in limited 3rd person) how they narrate their story.

It can also affect how they perceive their own agency, which can influence how they behave with regard to the plot of your story. Do they believe their actions have drastic consequences, that they’re duty-bound to follow the path laid for them by providence, or that their actions have little consequence? This will affect how they respond to events in the story and how they do or don’t drive the story forward.

Looking to ensure your plot events are character-driven? Check out the plotting prompts in the Scribes & Archers resource library!

It can also affect the type of story you’re telling, in some cases. “Chosen One�� stories and other prophecy-driven stories rely on certain cultural views (and underlying mechanics) of providence and fate in order to function, and whether your core culture is in agreement or disagreement with these views and mechanics can drastically alter the tone and trajectory of such a story.

On a more surface-level note, your culture’s view of luck, etc. , which can color your character voice and make your setting more immersive.

I’d love to hear from you. How do the cultures in your world view providence, luck, etc.? How does this affect your characters and plot? Is this a topic you’d considered before? Share in the comments!

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While many of us may have developed a habit of preparing for NaNoWriMo in the fall and have now , there is still something to be said for participating in designated writing challenges. Maybe you’re a veteran author who’s done NaNoWriMo or other writing challenges before, maybe you’re a veteran author who’s never been sold on short-term challenges working for you, or maybe you’re new to the community and you’re wondering what “writing challenges�� I’m even talking about. Wherever you stand, here are five benefits I’ve found of participating in writing challenges.

First of all, a quick explanation of NaNoWriMo and writing challenges for anyone who’s new to the idea: NaNoWriMo is short for National Novel Writing Month; it refers to an event that spans the month of November, in which authors are challenged to write 50,000 words in a month. This is the average length of a novel, and the idea is that the month results in a completed first draft of a novel you haven’t started yet. That’s not always the case, since some novels are longer, or some authors (myself included) choose to work on an already-started draft, but that’s the basic idea.

The organization behind NaNoWriMo has unfortunately taken a nosedive in the past five years, but there are still similar challenges to be found online–including my personal favorite, Christine Smith’s challenge, one installment of which is coming up March 15-April 15!

What these writing challenges have in common is a designated time frame in which to collaborate and compete with other authors to accomplish a particular writing goal–whether that goal is designated in the challenge itself or decided by the individual participating author.

Now, on to the benefits of participating in such things!

This isn’t a struggle for everyone, but if you’re someone who finds it difficult to set concrete goals in your writing, a writing challenge could be just the solution. Such events have built-in deadlines and sometimes built-in word count goals–and even those that don’t dictate a word count goal still challenge you to lock in a progress goal for yourself. Having a concrete goal allows you to and know what your aim is for each day or writing session, which makes it easier to actually achieve your goal. Knowing that your goal is 50,000 words in 30 days, for instance, allows you to determine that your daily word count should be 1,667, or you can divide it in whatever way works best for you and your schedule (there are some word count tracking tools, like Pacemaker or WriteTrack, that make this really easy). But having a concrete starting point makes the smaller goals possible to figure out.

It can be hard to keep yourself motivated and disciplined to keep working on your writing project, but writing challenges provide accountability–through the communities around them, or even just through the goal itself and your progress through the month–which can help to keep you on task and motivated. and get spurred to write by trying to keep your word count higher than your best friend’s, or you just want to hit the word count each day, or you want to challenge yourself to hit the goal as fast as you can, or it just helps to �� Whatever your accountability style, writing challenges can be a great opportunity to revive that determined spark and get you writing consistently.

Not all writing challenges have communities built up around them, but many do–FicFrenzy included. When you join most online writing challenges, you’re joining the dozens or hundreds of authors–sometimes from all over the world–who are undertaking the same challenge, and the majority of them are going to be super excited to cheer on a fellow writer. Whether you find a community around your chosen writing challenge itself, find people in your existing writing groups who are participating, or attend write-ins* in your area, chances are you’ll have at least one person you can turn to when that mid-month writing slump sets in. (If you ever need a writing pep talk, feel free to shoot me an email!)

*Write-ins are in-person meet-ups in a community, where local writers get together to work on their current projects. They usually include writing prompts, , and snacks. Write-ins are often hosted by libraries or coffee shops, so check out your local venues to see if they have anything set up.

Whether your family isn’t good about letting you get time to write, or you have too many engagements to make time, or you just keep putting off the novel you’ve been wanting to write for ages, taking part in a writing challenge provides a designated window of time in which you have a clear excuse to give people (or yourself). Having an official event makes it way easier to tell people you need time to yourself to write and get them to take you seriously.

Of course, there are some things you simply can’t shrug off (work, for instance–although I’ve known some people who have taken a week off work during November to give themselves additional hours to write), and you should always make sure you’re flexible and aren’t totally shutting people out for a month (I see you, introverts). But it does provide a solution to something I know is a legitimate problem for a lot of people.

Still not sure how to make the time? .

Whether you “win�� or “lose,�� writing challenges are a ton of fun. Chances are you’ll make new writing friends, or better get to know the friends you already have, and be challenged to write more than you would ordinarily. You’ll have a chance to participate in word wars, to read other authors�� snippets , and maybe to with your writing. If you’ve never tried it before, I definitely recommend participating at least once and checking it out.

�� Pen of a Ready Writer

�� The Road of a Writer

�� The Sprint Shack

Have you participated in a writing challenge like this before? How did it go for you? If you’ve never participated before but you’re interested in trying it out, I’d love for you to join me in this month!

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If you’ve been around for a while, you may have noticed that I have a pretty consistent worldbuilding process in terms of organization (usually that has information from it gradually transferred ), but I also adapt to the needs of whatever world I’m working with. For this project, I decided that the best way to parse through everything and reference it neatly would be with * (though I also intend to use * as the presentation platform for this world in the future). Today, I’m laying out what that process has looked like for this world and how I’ve put Scrivener’s various features to work for this project, in case it’s a process that appeals to you too!

Before we dive into how I’ve used various Scrivener features, let me give you some context of what the Scrivener display looks like and what elements I’ll be referring to. This is the basic Scrivener display:

To the far left, you have the “binder�� index.

In the middle, you can see the “corkboard�� of “cards�� that represent each document within the selected folder. These show up with their titles, colors based on their labels (when applicable), and notes beneath the titles (none of these particular cards have custom notes on them, so they display the first bit of text from inside the document instead.) Above this, there are options to switch your view of the folder from “corkboard�� to “composite�� (or the “outliner�� view, but I’ve never used that one).

Off to the right is the “inspector�� sidebar, which displays the “card�� for whatever document you have selected at the top, with notes below. There are other tabs as well that can be useful, but I’m not making use of them for this particular project.

This is what the display looks like for an individual document:

It’s pretty much the same, but here I’ve selected one where you can see that the “card�� section of the “inspector�� sidebar reflects the description and label color of the document just as it would in its containing folder’s “corkboard�� view.

Later on, you’ll also see what the “composite�� view looks like and more of those labels and descriptions in use.

The first step of this process was simply to collect all of the notes I had on Concordia from their various documents into one central Scrivener project. I’m cautious of deleting anything (plus, a few of these documents had comments on them from author friends, which I wanted to have on hand for future reference), so I didn’t delete any of the original documents, but I did copy and paste each one into its own page in Scrivener. In titling these, I included the date(s) of the original document, as well as where I could find it again later, like so:

As you can see, I’m using the format of “Document title �� Date (Original location).�� I kept the dates as specific as I could find; some had clear dates marked, some did not, and some I couldn’t find a date on at all. I’ve also kept the document title exactly the same as on the original, so that they’re easy to search for in their original locations should I need to reference said originals. That’s why some of these have really generic or odd titles, lol.

As I’ve compiled and developed more of these, I’ve maintained the same format in titling them for the sake of consistency and ease of organization. Date is particularly important for this world’s notes, because I have notes spanning so many years and having the dates readily visible lets me see which are newer vs. older when I’m considering which conflicting notes to keep or toss.

After taking this screenshot, I grabbed more notes from World Anvil and also wrote up new notes in the 30 Days of Worldbuilding workbook by Angeline Trevena which I copied over into text form so that, again, everything would remain in one place and readily accessible:

Once everything was in one place, I had to categorize it. Most of my worlds are organized by nation because those are the biggest delineations in how I use the world; for Concordia, however, I mainly focus on a singular continent and the bigger distinctions are between eras. Thus, my top-level folders cover the various eras of the world in order. Beneath those, I have categories for areas of development: technology, key organizations, government, military, etc. Originally, I also had a section for the magic system and its related elements within each era, as you can see below:

(I also added, early on, the time-spans of each era for easy reference.) As I was working with the project, however, I realized that it was obnoxious to have to hunt through the various eras for notes on magic and so on, which remain somewhat consistent over time, so I added a separate top-level folder for the magic system and its associated notes:

Within each of these folders, I’ve taken my compiled notes from the first section and divided them up based on topic. So while one document in the “Compiled Notes�� section might cover ten topics, I’ve copied and pasted those into ten separate files that are sorted into “Categorized Notes�� folders accordingly. While this makes for lots of very brief files, right now, it allows me to see what I have and haven’t already developed in a certain category and to have all of my notes on a given topic in one place, without the clutter of other topics. If I want to see a note in its original broader context instead, I can always just hop back over to the document I pulled a note from in “Compiled Notes�� to see what it was connected to.

Here’s an example of the detail I might split these notes into, in the “corkboard�� view:

Then, if I want to see everything in a given category, I can switch over to the composite view and it will display everything from a given folder in a single document (the images above and below show the same folder, just in these two different views):

There are a couple of things I’ve done to keep these smaller notes straight. First, I’ve used the “corkboard�� view to make notes on each file’s “card�� of what original document it came from (which allows me to reference the document’s date) or, for newer notes that went directly into a category, the date on which it was started. Like so:

The colors of the cards indicate their level of development. I’ve used Scrivener’s “label�� function to see at a glance which notes are in progress, need more consideration, have been scrapped in favor of something else, etc. Here’s my key:

I’ve also set these to display in the “binder�� sidebar, so that I don’t have to go into a folder to see the colored cards of the documents within it, but can see these labels at a glance in the index as well:

The abbreviations after titles in the magic folder refer to eras (Stone Era, Golden Era, Titanium Era), so that I can keep all of my magic notes in one place but also know which era each note is most relevant to. While there is overlap (especially in some of the more basic technical notes), some details of the magic system really are pretty specific to a given era. GenDevs don’t exist until the Titanium Era! Tacking era abbreviations onto note titles is how I’ve balanced having everything in one place but also seeing what era each note best relates to.

This system is newly developed, so I’ve only tested it but so much. That said, it’s serving me well so far and there are a few features I can say make it optimally useful (at least for me), besides the Scrivener-specific features I’ve already shown off (different folder views, labels, etc.).

Consistent titling �� This makes it easy to find what I need, as well as to name new documents with minimal mental effort.

Dates on everything �� I try to keep dates on all my writing notes anyway because I like to be able to see progression of story ideas, world development, etc., but this is especially helpful with a long-in-development, scattered, sometimes conflicting compilation of worldbuilding notes.

Flexibility in categories �� While titling and dating is consistent, organization of folders and categories can be more flexible depending on the needs of an era, etc. For example, returning to the first “note sorting�� screenshot, you can see that I have “science and technology�� as a single sub-folder for the Stone Era, but I have individual folders for “technology: ID chips,�� “technology: transportation,�� etc. in the Titanium Era. I’ve tried to balance consistency and flexibility in this system.

Multiple “views�� �� Obviously, part of this is a feature of Scrivener itself with its corkboard view and composite view, etc. But part of it I’ve built into the system myself, as I have my “compiled notes�� where I can see everything in the context in which it was originally written, as well as my “organized notes�� in which I can view things topically.

Tracking progress �� With my progress labels, I can easily see which elements of the world need more work, which are finalized, and which ideas have been scrapped and can usually be ignored. This is especially useful while I have particular topics I’m working to flesh out and finalize, as I can easily see where to focus on developing things from scratch, where I just need to solidify what’s already there, and where I’m already good to go.

This system may not work for every author or every project, but it has been really helpful for me in collecting scattered and conflicting notes and putting them in usable order, so if that’s something you’re dealing with as well, * might be the right tool to help!

Have questions or feel like there was something I didn’t cover? Comment or !

Have you ever used Scrivener for your worldbuilding before? What does your process for that look like? Do you have another tool you prefer? Comment and share your thoughts!

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