Is AI-Generated Writing Truly AI-Generated or Just Plagiarized?

Here's an "AI-generated" piece of writing people are sharing online: "In the theater of the absurd called life, we are both the puppet and the puppeteer, dancing to a tune we can neither hear nor understand."

Parts of it sounded familiar, so I Googled them. 

A 5-word phrase here — "can neither hear nor understand" — was plagiarized from "Only You" by Sting.

Another 8-word phrase – "we are both the puppet and the puppeteer" — is the title of an opinion piece by Charlie Grosso. 

"Theater of the Absurd' is the name of a genre of performance art. That's another 4 words. 

So far, I've found 17/26 words that were plagiarized from humans, and I'm hardly even trying. 

This is what AI does. It plagiarizes, plagiarizes, plagiarizes. That's why writers are putting together a lawsuit to get it to stop using our work as sources. Our words belong to US. They are not for computer programs to steal, manipulate, and take credit for. 

Words for Nerds #AtoZChallenge--Z is for Zigzag (the easy way to bust that cliché!)

I’m about to give you a piece of advice I got from an agent at a SCBWI New Jersey workshop. The workshop and one-on-one critique with the agent cost me a nice bit of money and a trip to Princeton, but I’m about to give it to you for FREE!

How lucky does that make you?

During my critique, the subject of clichés came up, not because my manuscript had any clichés, but because I wanted tips on how to avoid them.

The agent told me, “If everyone else goes ones way, go the other way.”

Simple, right? If everyone turns right, you turn left. If everyone zigs, you zag. If everyone is doing something one way, then it’s a cliché. Don’t do it that way. Do it the opposite way. Leave the beaten path and forge your own. It’s that easy.

When we think of clichés, we usually think of over-used expressions, like “head over heels in love.” But clichés can be bigger things, too.

All kissing scenes zig one way? Zag, and write a kissing scene that’s almost the opposite of that. That’s what I did in Ride of Your Life. If you read it, you’ll see there’s a first kiss that couldn’t have been written in any other book. It’s just so different! Gilbert’s first kiss with Amber in Why My Love Life Sucks also zags . . . and so does a kiss in the upcoming sequel, Why It Still Mega Bites. I hate kissing clichés, so of course I write kisses differently.

Everyone is writing dystopian? Zag, and write whatever the opposite of dystopian is in your eyes. (For me, that would be a science-fiction comedy.) Or zag, and write a dystopian that breaks all the clichés and completely changes what people think a dystopian novel is supposed to be! After all, no one need another dystopian novel that’s exactly like the hundreds of others already out there.

So how do you zag?

In my blog post on humor, Writing Words for Nerds #AtoZChallenge—H is for Humor (and how to create it), I mentioned the mirrors and lenses of the House of Funny. While any mirror or lens can help you zag, the best to use here is the “lens of character.” Because if you have a truly different character with a completely different way of seeing the world and interacting with it, anything viewed through the lens that is that character will be different.

Should you always zag where everyone else zigs?

 I don’t think so. But you should always zag when zigging feels somehow wrong to you, it doesn’t fit your story, or it makes your story less of what you’re trying to make it.

You should also try to consider the possibility of zagging, even if you choose to zig in the end. It should always be a choice, not something you did because you were following the crowd—or trying hard not to follow the crowd. You shouldn’t zag for zagging’s sake. You should do it because you like that’s your preferred choice.

And now I’m down to another Z: Zero!

I’ve reached the end of this blog post, which means I have zero posts left to write in the #AtoZChallenge. I did it! Hope you liked it and that it helped or at least entertained you in some way.

Maybe I’ll do it again next year, this time in April!  

Words for Nerds #AtoZChallenge--Y is for YA (an interview)

Shevi: Hi, YA!

YA: (Continues to text on her phone, her face partially hidden behind her hair. She shrugs.)

Shevi: We’re here to set people straight about all the mistaken assumptions they have about you.

YA: (Pausing but not looking up from her phone) Yeah! People just don’t get me.   

Shevi: I think most people know that YA stands for “Young Adult.”

YA: (Sighs and rolls her eyes) I don’t like being called that anymore. I’d rather be called “Teen.”

Shevi: Totally understandable, since that’s clearly what you are.

YA: Duh!

Shevi: Okay, so I think most people know that YA books are books with main characters who are between thirteen and seventeen years old.

YA: Yes, but we’re not all the same.

Shevi: Right! There’s younger YA, which is more for teens between thirteen and fifteen. And then there’s older YA, which is more for teens between sixteen and seventeen.

YA: Because we’re dealing with different stuff.

Shevi: Absolutely! For example, the Georgia Nicolson books by Louise Rennison, like Angus, Thongs and Full-Frontal Snogging, deal with friendships, first crushes, everyday family stuff . . .

YA: And the character is younger, so that’s definitely younger YA.

Shevi: Yes. And my Legend of Gilbert the Fixer series that starts with Why My Love LifeSucks has a seventeen-year-old character dealing with the last year of high school and who he wants to be after high school.

YA: Definitely older YA.

Shevi: Yes.

YA: But it’s only like PG-13, so younger teens can read it.

Shevi: Yes, and that’s true of a lot of YA. Younger teens can read it. They just might not necessarily relate to it. It depends on the maturity of the particular reader and what they’re going through.

YA: (Back to texting) Yeah.

Shevi: And that’s one of the misconceptions I’d like to clear up. Some people think that any book with a teenage protagonist is a YA, and that’s just not the case.

YA: (Laughs) Yeah, because if that was true, all those Disney princess movies would be YA, and they’re so not!

Shevi: Right! A YA novel has to deal with same things teens are dealing with today. Like first romantic relationships.

YA: (Blushes) Ewwww . . . Don’t talk about that out loud, okay?

Shevi: Don’t worry. It’s just between the reader and you.

YA: (Nods and goes back to texting)

Shevi: Two other common misconceptions are that a YA book has to be completely clean . . .

YA: (Laughs) Yeah, no.

Shevi: Or that YA books can only be issue books that deal with things like sex, violence, drugs . . .

YA: (Blushes) Yeah, no.

Shevi: A YA book can certainly deal with serious issues. That’s fine. But there are all kinds of YAs.

YA: Yeah, just like there are all kinds of teens.

Shevi: Exactly. And a YA refers to an audience age-group, not a genre. A YA can be in any genre. It can be an issue book, but it can also be a comedy, a fantasy novel, a science fiction novel . . .

YA: (Excited) Have you read The Hunger Games? It’s ah-mazing!

Shevi: That’s another thing. You don’t have to be a teen to appreciate YA. A good book is a good book, no matter how old you are.

YA: Thank you!

Shevi: Before we go, is there anything else you’d like people to know about you?

YA: (Looks up and puts her phone down. She takes a deep breath and lets it out.) I wish people would stop telling me what to do.

Shevi: Meaning?

YA: Some writers treat us like we’re little kids. They don’t understand who we are or what we’re going through. They lie to us. They’re not honest. You don’t have to tell me what to do or think or feel. I can do those things for myself! It’s like . . . it’s like they don’t respect me.

Shevi: (Nods) I think that’s something every writer should keep in mind, no matter who their audience is. No one likes to be condescended to. I know I don’t. And you know what else?

YA: (Shrugs)

Shevi: I love your honesty. I think that’s what makes you one of my favorite categories of books. You don’t waste time but get straight to the point.

YA: (Blushes) I like that about me, too. 

Shevi: So I hope that clears up a few misconceptions. If you want to know more, just check out the books in the the teen section of your local library or bookstore. The more you read, the more you'll realize how great YA books are. 

Words for Nerds #AtoZChallenge--X is for eXtreme Writing (the ONLY way to write)

Improv says you have to “commit 100%.”

One of my rules of comedy is that you should, “take it as far as it will go. All the way up to the edge . . . and then push.”

And as I’ve told members of my critique group (please excuse the PG language), “Don’t do anything half-assed. It should be full-assed or nothing!”

I honestly mean that.  

What I’m talking about is extreme writing—and it’s the only way you should write.

I think if you look at any successful book, you’ll see the author didn’t hold back, didn’t do things by half. Whatever the author was doing, the author did it all the way. You might like it. You might hate it. But either way, you have to respect that whatever the writer’s vision was, that writer went for it.

Take Harry Potter as an example. That book isn’t just about a boy with magical powers who waves a wand and recites spells. There’s a whole magical world around him that’s rich with detail. Hogwarts has a history. Letters are delivered by owls. Food comes alive. Trees can attack you. Staircases move. Paintings talk. Ghosts roam the halls. J.K. Rowling didn’t do things by half. She took it all the way up to the edge and then pushed.

Or Gilbert Garfinkle from Why My Love Life Sucks (The Legend of Gilbert the Fixer,book one). I didn’t set out to write a series about just any geek; I set out to write a book the ultimate geek. Gilbert isn’t just a hacker; he’s the ultimate hacker. He’s not just a nerd fighter; he’s the ultimate nerd fighter. He’s not just a fan of Star Trek; he’s a fan of pretty much every form of geek or nerd culture. And I wasn’t going to give him a little problem. I gave him the ultimate teenage geek’s ultimate nightmare: getting stuck with a gorgeous vampire girl who wants to be his platonic BFF, literally forever!

Now that’s extreme writing.

You don’t have to write fantasy, science fiction or comedy for your writing to be extreme. You can commit 100% to writing a quiet book, too. Just don’t set out to make a quiet book with a few exciting scenes, or an exciting book with a few quiet scenes. Whatever choice you make, stick with it! Commit to it! Don’t waffle. Unless, of course, you’re all about waffling, in which case, I want to see you waffle like an IHOP! I want to see you waffle like no one has ever waffled before! I want you to be the King or Queen of Waffles!

Like many people, The Shawshank Redemption is one of my favorite movies. I love it because the hero, Andy Dufresne, isn’t just ordinary—he is extremely ordinary. He isn’t just boring—he is extremely boring. He’s an accountant, for goodness sakes! His hobbies include playing chess and reading. How boring (in the eyes of most people, not a book addict like me) can you get? His favorite music is opera. Opera! Andy is as ordinary as a piece of coal, but here’s the thing about coal: under a great deal of pressure, a piece of coal can turn into a diamond. And that for me is the beauty of this movie. Andy Dufresne succeeds—not despite being extremely ordinary and boring—but because of it.  

And that, I think, is a metaphor for extreme writing. Take something that could be boring and ordinary, put it under the pressure of making it extreme, and watch it shine. 

It honestly doesn’t matter what you’re writing about. As long as you make it extreme, your story will be more compelling for it. 

Writing Words for Nerds #AtoZChallenge—T is for Touch (your words)

T is for Touch

T is for touch.

It’s the dull weight of

A tiny tangerine

In your hand.

It’s the waxy Texture

Of the skin, the gritty feel

Of the parts of its peel

Stuck under your finger nails,

The tangy Taste on your tongue,

As you take that first bite

And Sniff and Touch and Taste

The sweet and sour fruit.

T is for Touch.

Sorry for the bad free verse, but can you feel it? Can you feel that tangerine?

Long-held writing wisdom says that you should write in a way that lets your reader experience each scene with all of the reader’s senses. We should be able to see it and hear it, of course, but we should also be able to touch it. taste it.  And smell it. If the air is damp and chilly, we should be able to feel that on our skin in a way that gives us goose bumps and makes us shiver.

In recent years, science has backed this up, proving that the word for a thing stimulates the exact same parts of the brain as the thing itself. This is even works with actions, so if I write "giggle," a part of your brain is sort of giggling.

And if I write . . .

Smile!

Did you smile?

Well, if you didn't on the outside, your brain probably did. Pretty cool, right?

This part of writing, the part where I get you to physically experience the world of the characters, has always been a little challenging for me. I’m not sure why. There could be more than one reason. I like to start with dessert, and for me that’s always been action and dialogue, high drama or low-brow humor. Anything but description. I know my writing needs more of it, but . . . I just don’t like writing it that much.

 Or perhaps it’s because of my background in Theater Studies, cartooning, and illustrating. In those settings, anything visual is simply shown visually. There’s no need to use words to describe anything. So using words to describe something I’d much rather draw or design? It’s a challenge.

And it becomes even harder when you consider that long-held writing wisdom also says you should write in nouns and verbs, and that adverbs and adjectives should be banished from your writing. How do you describe a touch or a taste without using the words that describe actions and things?

The answer often given is to use the most specific verbs and nouns, and that’s hard. Yes, some words can be made more specific. You can write “tangerine” instead of “fruit.” You could write the “tangerine bit back” instead of describing it as “sour,” but isn’t sour clearer? I mean, it may be poetic, but the tangerine isn’t literally biting back.

And aren’t adjectives and adverbs just additional tools for the writer to use? Should we really discard a whole section of our toolbox? What if an adjective is the perfect tool to get the job done? Shouldn’t the rule that says, “use what works” supersede the “write in nouns and verbs” rule? I think it should.

Anyway, here’s one of my attempts at trying to help the reader touch a scene. It’s from Why My Love Life Sucks (The Legend of Gilbert the Fixer, book one). This is Gilbert, lying paralyzed in bed after Amber bit him, reflecting on the events of the night that led up to his current predicament. He’s remembering what happened just after he first met Amber at Bucky Bee’s in New York City. At this point, they’re walking home together. There are many more descriptive scenes in Toren the Teller’s Tale and Ride of Your Life, but I particularly like this one. Hope you like it, too:

She intertwined her fingers with mine, and it felt like . . . like the entire universe in all of time was a giant jigsaw puzzle. All the outer pieces had been put in place first, and then someone had worked his way through that puzzle from the outside in. Over time all the pieces had been put in place until there were only two spaces left: one space for my hand, the other space for Amber’s. When she took my hand and intertwined her fingers in mine, it was like they had been designed to fit together that way, like the universe had been waiting—holding its breath—just waiting for those last two pieces to slide into place and make everything complete.

We continued walking down 9^th Avenue and crossed West 34^th Street. Everything took on a magical feel—even the smells from the Chinese restaurant, and the lights from the cars that passed and from the illuminated ads on the bus stops—they were all pieces of that puzzle that had been waiting for the two of us. The way we walked side by side; the way her red dress looked with my navy blue jacket over her shoulders, even though my jacket was too big on her in exactly the same way that it was too big on me; the way she smiled; and the way she made me smile: everything was infused with magic.

For a brief second I thought I caught a vision of . . . something . . . It was such a strange feeling, like I was looking into the future, or maybe the future was looking in on me. Or maybe it was the past. Or maybe both. It reminded me of a song, and I began to sing it. “There’s not a word yet . . .”

“. . . for old friends who’ve just met,” she continued. She had such a sweet voice. “That’s Gonzo’s song from The Muppet Movie.”

“You know it?” I asked, surprised.

She nodded. “It’s funny, I was thinking the same thing. It’s like we met in a previous life.”

“I don’t believe in previous lives.”

“A future one, then.”

I laughed. Yes, that was exactly what it was like. “I believe in those.” Or at least I did at the time. Not so sure now.

If you want to read the rest, click the link below. For now, it's just $2.51 on Amazon Kindle:

 

Writing Words for Nerds #AtoZChallenge‑‑S is for Stories (and where to find them)

As many writers will tell you, the first rule of being a good writer is to read, and read, and read some more.

But I like to think it goes beyond that. You can’t simply read like any other reader; you have to read like a writer. You have to take apart what you read and figure out what works and what doesn’t and why. You have to take what you’ve learned, and you have to apply it to your own writing.

I also think it goes beyond stories written in books. There are stories in every medium imaginable. There are stories in movies, TV shows, songs, and art. But it goes beyond that, too. The truth is there are stories pretty much everywhere you look.

In Toren the Teller’s Tale, young Toren learns that every person, every object, and even forces like the wind have their own unique stories. If she can read a thing’s complete story, that thing becomes a part of her. She can control it, but only if that thing wants to be controlled. And when she fully knows a thing’s story, she can retell it in a single word that brings that thing to life. This is her unique magic, the magic of the storyteller.

While Toren the Teller’s Tale is an epic fantasy, there’s a part of it that’s, well, not a fantasy at all. The truth is that every person and every object does have a story. You have to crack it open like an egg, take it apart and figure it out to discover the story hidden within.

Just pick up any object, the object closest to you. Who made that? Where did it come from? How did it get to you? Who were the people who affected or were affected by its journey? And isn’t it interesting to think that someone at the start of its journey in some small way affected you at this stage of its journey? You’re connected to each other through this object. You’re connected to every person along its path. And that’s just one object. Look around you. How many people affected or were affected by the objects just in your immediate vicinity? And role did they play in that object’s story?

But it’s even more than that. Because every person, every object, holds millions of possible stories. How could this object have arrived here? Where could it have gone instead? And what could happen to it in the future? How would that affect the people involved? The potential stories are infinite. And if you believe the Many Worlds theory of quantum physics, what’s even crazier is that they could all be true, somewhere out in our amazing universe.

In his autobiographical book, Rewrites: A Memoir, playwright Neil Simon says (I’m paraphrasing), “Writer’s block isn’t when a writer has no ideas; it’s when a writer has so many ideas and doesn’t trust himself to choose the right one.”

With so many stories around us all the time, that truly is a dilemma. How do you choose the right one?

I like improv’s answer. There is no right and no wrong choice. There’s just a choice, and you have to make it or let the audience make it for you. Whatever the choice is, you have to commit to it 100%. I guess you could say the only wrong choice is not choosing or not committing to what’s been chosen.

I see dozens of stories around me every day, and I throw almost all of them out.

It’s not because I haven’t committed to a choice. It’s because I am already 100% committed to choices I’ve already made, stories I have thought out in my mind or outlined on paper but haven’t had time to turn into fully formed manuscripts. Like the persona in Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening,” I “have promises to keep/And miles to go before I sleep.”   

But the stories are there, inside my head. Don’t ask me what I’m thinking. You probably don’t want to know.

I once sat with a guy near a bonfire and watched the ashes float in the hot air above the flames. He leaned in and said, “You’re a writer. I bet you’re thinking something about the poetic beauty of the fire.” I smiled and nodded, although what I was really thinking was “Wouldn’t it be funny if some prehistoric caveman who was obsessed with flight saw those ashes and thought he could fly if he could somehow sew or glue the ashes together? And after a few failed attempts, it might occur to him that it had something to do with the fire. He’d wonder if he could fly if he could just somehow throw himself on the fire at just the right angle. Maybe he could test that theory by tossing a friend over it. Hey, maybe that’s what gave J.M. Barrie the idea for pixie dust!”

See? There's a reason why I don't tell the stories I don't tell and focus instead on the ones I do.

Speaking of which, I should get back to those stories. The second book in the Legend of Gilbert the Fixer, here I come! 

Writing Words for Nerds #AtoZChallenge—Q is for Questions (Do you need them?)

Yes, a writer needs questions. You simply can't do without them. 

But why? 

Keep reading, and I’ll tell you.

I once worked under an arts-and-entertainment editor who gave me this classic piece of newspaper advice: “Tell ‘em. Then tell ‘em. Then tell ‘em again!”

I knew what she meant. I had already learned about the journalism pyramid. You start with maybe one sentence that says what your article is about. Your second paragraph says what it’s about, but says more about it. Your final paragraphs go into more detail about the topic of your article. You tell ‘em about the topic of your article. Then you tell ‘em. Then you tell ‘em again. The reader gets the gist of the entire article in that first sentence. The rest is just the same thing in greater and greater depth. If you just want the headline, you’ll stop reading there. And if the headline grabs you, you’ll continue reading until you’ve reached the depth you’re looking for.

A classic piece of journalism advice, but the more I looked at it, the more I realized that format that worked so well for news didn’t quite work for feature stories.

People read the first pages of the newspaper to be informed, but when they read the magazine or the features section, they read less to be informed and more to be entertained. If you tell ‘em once at the very start what the feature piece is about, readers have no real reason to read the rest of the article. No, I decided. I need to find some other way to get readers to keep reading.

So I came up with my own rule: hook ‘em. Then hook ‘em. Then hook ‘em again!”

And it worked! Readers liked my feature articles, and I won praise and respect from my editors. In a short time I worked my way up from being a freelance arts-and-entertainment writer to the newspaper’s consumer columnist. I had two pages in the magazine, and another half a page in the middle of the week. Readers like to be hooked. I guess you could say we’re hooked on it.

But what exactly is a hook? And how do you hook ‘em again and again?

A hook is something in your story that grabs your reader and makes that reader want to keep reading. For example, if I start a book with the main character lying in bed wondering if he’s going to die by morning—and if that’s not the worst thing that could happen to him over the next few hours—that’s a pretty good hook. 

In the beginning of Why My Love Life Sucks(The Legend of Gilbert the Fixer,book one) the reader has to keep reading to find out what’s going to happen next. And that is a hook.

Basically, a hook is a question the writer plants in the reader’s mind, a question the reader won’t know the answer to unless the reader keeps reading. It can be written as a question. The first words of Toren theTeller’s Tale are “Who are you?” It takes the rest of the book to get a complete answer, and it is a doozy. But it doesn’t have to be spelled out like that. In most novels and short stories, the hook is a conflict or problem the audience wants to see resolved. Will Cinderella escape life with her cruel stepmother and stepsisters? Will the Light Side defeat the Dark Side? Will Gilbert get turned into a vampire, and why did a gorgeous girl who could have any guy she wants pick this extreme geek, anyway? You won't know the answer unless you keep reading. 

Some writer once said that every novel is a mystery, and that’s true. The writer plants a question in the reader’s mind on the first page, and the reader has to keep reading to discover the answer to the question and solve the mystery. If the mystery isn’t solved by the end, the writer has broken the unwritten author-reader contract, a contract that basically says that if the writer plants a question in the reader’s mind at the start, the writer will provide the answer to that question by the book’s end. All important questions will be answered. All important matters will be resolved. It might not be a happy ending, but it will be a resolution. It's vital that the author fulfil his or her part of the contract. 

Hook ‘em. Then hook ‘em. Then hook ‘em again works with pretty much any piece of writing that isn’t news and isn’t meant to be boring. Just plant those questions in your reader’s mind, and watch how your reader gets hooked.

So why does a writer need questions? Are you still here?

Well, I guess that's your answer.  

Writing Words for Nerds #AtoZChallenge—O is for Outline. Do you need one?

Do you need an outline? The answer is...it depends. 

Those who write outlines are called outliners (duh!), and those who don’t are called “pantsers,” which refers to how they write by the proverbial seat of their pants.

I recently ran a survey in a Facebook writer’s group I belong to, and what I discovered surprised me. While there are more pantsers than people who consider themselves outliners, the biggest group was made up of people who consider themselves both! Sometimes they outline, and sometimes they don’t. Some will outline the beginning and then let the story work itself out from there. Others outline certain kinds of projects but not others.

Me? I’m an outliner. Not only do I need to outline the entire book before I sit down to write it, I also need to outline individual chapters before I write them. I like to outline the next thing I have to write when I finish writing for the day. It gives me something to work toward when I return to the manuscript. I have a terrible sense of direction, and the outline is my road map. I need one, so I don’t get lost. For me, being a pantser just isn’t an option.

But I don’t just need to have an outline; I LIKE having one. It means that I can always “start with dessert.” I know what all the scenes are and where they go, so I can start with the scene or conversation I’m most excited about. And I do. My full outlines have bits of dialogue and some fully fleshed out scenes in it, because those are the desserts I’ve already eaten. I only move onto the things that aren’t dessert when I’ve eaten all the desserts I can. And you know what? Very often I find the things that I’m not really excited about writing don’t need to be written at all. It’s cool how that works out.

I know that many outliners feel that pantsers should be outliners too, but I’m not one of them. I believe you should do what works for you, and if that’s writing without an outline, then you should definitely do that.

Some pantsers think that outliners should be pantser, too. Very often it’s because they see an outline as something that restricts creativity. Being a pantser gives them freedom to take their story anywhere at any time. I don’t like getting lost, but for many pantsers, that’s a part of the joy of writing. They love getting lost in their story, discovering it as they go along, and seeing where it leads. They love discovering the characters and being surprised, just like a reader would.

Again, that’s not me. I don’t enjoy getting lost. I’d rather fly straight to Orlando, check into a hotel I’ve researched well so I know what to expect, and take Disney transportation into Disney World, a detailed schedule of what I’m going to do in each of the parks tucked away in my bag. Have a great time getting lost and wrestling alligators in a Florida swamp, pantsers. It sounds exciting. It’s just not my idea of fun.

And outlines really aren’t as restrictive as many pantsers seem to think. Who says that just because you have a detailed schedule in your hand you have to pass up a better opportunity if one comes along? Outlines are flexible. They can be rewritten. And it’s a lot easier to rewrite a five page outline than it is to rewrite a 250-page book, which is what most pantsers who write novels end up having to do.

Some strict outliners and pantsers don’t see it as a choice.

Some outliners say, “I can’t write without knowing where I’m going.” Are you sure? Have you ever tried it? Who knows, it might be fun.

And some pantsers say, “How can I write an outline if I don’t know where my story is going? I don’t have a plot. I just have these characters. I don’t know what they’re going to do until they do it.” Then how do you know they’re good characters? How do you know they have a story worth telling? Of course, if it turns out they aren’t and they don’t, you can always rewrite the whole thing. Me? I have too many great characters with stories that I’ve already fully outlined in my head, and not enough time to follow around characters who may or may not get anywhere. Of course, it’s the finished result that matters, not how you get there.

The answer to what you can do if you’re an outliner who wants to be a pantser is easy: just do it! 

It may be scary, but maybe that’s a good thing. And if you find yourself stuck, just give yourself a timer and a goal. How does 500 words in an hour sound? Don’t be surprised if after the hour is up, you feel the urge to write more.  

The answer for the pantser who wants to be an outliner is a little more complicated: instead of being a long-form pantser, writing every little detail as you go along, try being a pantser of a short story.

You can write on paper, but you can also write it in your head. Just go and get lost in your story, but try not to do it for more than a page. If you need to, add another page. And another. It could be a series of short stories with the same characters and a single character arc. You can keep writing those short stories until you find a satisfying end to that character arc. And then you’re done. You’ve just pretty much pantsed your way to an outline.

I hope this helps, or at least gives you some food for thought. Again, there’s no right or wrong way. There’s only what works for you, and you won’t know what that is until you’ve tried both options.   

Writing Words for Nerds #AtoZChallenge--N is for (use the) News

The news can be a double-edged sword.

On the one hand, it can make you more aware of what’s going on, which is good. For a fiction writer, it can inspire ideas for stories. It was a news story that inspired my YA romantic ghost story, Ride of Your Life, and science news helps inform the science in my teen science-fantasy comedy series, The Legend of Gilbert the Fixer.

But then there are the drawbacks: being obsessed with the news can gobble up time that would be better spent doing other things, like writing. The news tends to focus on bad news, too, which can be depressing and troubling. There’s also a lot of misinformation and bias. The news rarely gives you the “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.” There are always those who will manipulate the facts, or even blatantly lie about what the facts are. You can get media burnout just trying to find out what the real story is.

I know about the news from both sides. My family has been in newspapers for five generations, and I don’t mean we ate fish and chips in the UK (where it used to be sold wrapped in newspaper). No, I mean we’ve been working in the newspaper business that long. I was a consumer columnist and arts-and-entertainment for the Jerusalem Post. Before that, I was an editorial cartoonist, a job that requires a deep and current knowledge of the news. My mom edited the women’s section of two different newspapers between the fifties and the start of this century. Her father was a newspaper writer and editor. Her grandfather (on her mother’s side) was a newspaper writer and editor. And finally her great grandfather on her mother’s mother’s side was a newspaper writer and editor. Five generations all leading up to me.    

I’ve seen both sides of that sword. It’s been a blessing and a curse. I love the news when it’s honest. Today the journalists with integrity stand out, because they’re very much in the minority. I also love little stories about ordinary people accomplishing great things, humorous news, and learning about scientific discoveries and breakthroughs. I hate the news when it’s deceptive and manipulative, and that just seems to be getting worse and worse. Most people don’t trust the media nowadays, and to the most part I can’t blame them.

Today’s news gives you a lot of material for writing fiction, most of it in the area of satire and dystopian science fiction.

Want to know how to write either?

For satire, check out my post: Writing Words for Nerds #AtoZChallenge—H is for Humor. I came up with my House of Funny formula when I was an editorial cartoonist, which is basically like writing political satire in a drawing or two and ten words or less.

For dystopian fiction, you only have to take one bad or even potentially bad news item, look at it through a microscope so that the tiniest thing becomes huge, and then project it into the future. Of course, you better hang on tight, because that is going to be one scary ride. Or you could just listen to the current presidential candidates. They all seem to have doomsday scenarios for what’s going to happen if you don’t vote for them. Although I think it’s probably smarter to trust your own gut over what any politician tells you.

My name is Shevi, and I’m a news-aholic. 

Writing Words for Nerds #AtoZChallenge--I is for Ideas

It only takes two words to inspire an infinite number of story ideas. 

“Where do stories come from?” It’s the question writers get asked most. “Where did you get the idea for your book? What inspired you?”

I think the idea for all fictional stories starts with two short but incredibly powerful words: “What if?” 

There are what-ifs everywhere you look. Every person you meet, every story you read or see or hear, and just about everything you experience or have experienced is full of what-ifs. This is why I completely agree with something that Neil Simon wrote in his autobiographical book Rewrites (I’m paraphrasing), “Writer’s block isn’t when a writer has no ideas. It’s when a writer has so many ideas and doesn’t trust himself to choose the right one.”

There are so many ideas—so many what-ifs—everywhere you look that it seems impossible to me that a writer could ever have no idea what to write about. Why, I write at least a dozen story ideas in my head every day. At least. And I throw them out, because I don’t even have enough time to write the stories I’m already working on, never mind a dozen new ones every day.

A little imagination and two words are all you need to create infinite story ideas.

Here’s an example. Recently I was sitting with my husband in a courtroom, because he had a couple of unfair traffic tickets we wanted to contest. (We reached a compromise with the court, because the police officer who issued the tickets wasn’t available and taking it all the way would have meant my husband taking another day off work, which wasn’t worth the $58 cost of the remaining ticket.) We had to spend about three hours in the courtroom waiting for our turn. My husband thought I might get in trouble for using my cellphone, but even the bailiff was using hers. The first cases brought before the judge were those where defendants had lawyers, as well as drug-related cases that involved already incarcerated defendants. Instead of being brought in, those defendants appeared in the courtroom via some sort of teleconferencing arrangement on a large flat-screen TV.

I leaned in toward my husband and whispered, “I can imagine a story about a woman who comes into court because of a traffic violation and is shocked to see her missing husband on that screen.” My husband loved the idea and continued it. What if the husband was in jail pretending to be someone else? What if he married her while pretending to be someone else? What if he had other wives who had no idea where he was or who he really was? What if after she screamed in court, “that’s my missing husband,” he pretended not to know her? What if he really didn’t know her? What if the husband but had lost his memory in the same accident that led to his incarceration, and while the system believed and had been telling him for a year that he was someone else, she was the only person who could reveal the truth and that he was innocent? What if after his experiences even he isn’t sure she’s telling the truth?

By asking one what-if, I came up with a story idea. And by continuing to ask one what-if after another, my husband was able to hone it into a very interesting story idea. I’m probably never going to use it, because, like I said, I think of and then abandon at least a dozen of these a day. But this little event gave my husband a glimpse into how my mind works when I write a story—and how much fun it is.

And asking what-ifs really is!

Yes, hearing or reading or seeing stories is fun, but it’s even more fun when you’re the one who’s telling yourself the story and you can make it go anywhere you want.

Infinite story ideas are everywhere. All you have to do is ask yourself, “What if?” and then let your imagination do the rest. 

Writing Words for Nerds #AtoZChallenge--E is for Editing

This blog post is about the most important part of writing, the part that takes a mediocre first draft and turns it into something great. This blog post is about editing.

In Why My Love Life Sucks, Gilbert Garfinkle mentions his simple three-part method for fixing anything: take it apart, figure it out, and fix it. Easy, right? Editing works the same way: you take your story apart, you figure out what parts are working and what parts can be made better, and you fix it.

It’s as simple as that.

For many writers, though, there’s one major obstacle that gets in the way of completing these three simple steps, and it’s another word that starts with the letter E: ego.

I don’t mean that these writers are egotistical and think their first draft is perfect just the way it is (although sometimes that’s the case). I’m referring to the psychological ego, as in a person’s sense of self.

Sometimes the writer is the main thing standing in the way of a story being all that it can be. And it can happen in every stage of editing a story.

Here, let me break it down.

 First, you can’t fix something without taking it apart.

Many newbie writers, however, are reluctant to truly do that to their story. Sure, it can be because they think their story is already perfect, but more often than not, it’s because of insecurity. It’s not so much because they think their story is perfect; it’s more that they’re worried that it isn’t.

They’ve read books that they’ve loved, and they want to be able to write like J.K. Rowling, Rick Riordan, Neil Gaiman, or whichever writer they admire most. The thing they don’t realize is that great books aren’t created by writers who produce perfect first drafts; they’re created by writers who produce imperfect first drafts and aren’t afraid to take them apart and edit them like crazy.  

If that’s not enough to get you over your insecurity, the best advice I can give you is something someone told Tina Fey when she was starting out in improv (and I’m paraphrasing here): don’t worry that it’s going to suck, because it is definitely going to suck. You just have to let go of the idea that that’s a bad thing. It’s not. You have to create something that totally sucks first. Otherwise, you’ll have nothing to fix.

This isn’t just true about you. It’s true about me. It’s true about any writer who’s ever written anything worth reading. From the start, we all have to give our stories permission to totally suck.

So let go of your insecurities, and don’t be afraid to take your story apart. Once you do that, you can move onto the next part of figuring it out.

 Unfortunately, a writer can also get in his own way here, and many writers do. There’s that darn ego again! It’s because many writers have a hard time looking at their stories with objective eyes, and a writer can’t really figure something out if that writer doesn’t even see it for what it is.

Many writers see their story as their baby. Well, I’m sorry, but it’s not. And the sooner a writer accepts that, the sooner that writer can actually figure out what works in the story and what doesn’t. This means the writer needs to check his ego at the door. Again, I mean ego as in a sense of self. A writer needs to understand that this isn’t about him; it’s about the story and only the story.  Okay, maybe it’s about the reader, too, but it most definitely isn’t about the writer.  

If a writer has a hard time separating himself from his story and seeing it objectively (as possible as that is when it comes to something as subjective as what works and doesn’t), there are a few things he can do. He can join a critique group to get different points of view. He can try to find beta readers. He can hire a professional editor. At the very least, he can put his manuscript away for a month so that when he comes back to it, he’s more likely to see it with fresh eyes. But whatever he does, he has to understand that any criticism isn’t about him; it’s about the story, and making the story better.

Finally, we get to the fixing stage.

Now you might think there’s no way the ego could mess this stage up. Unfortunately, you’d be wrong. Because very strangely that insecurity that came with the first stage can often come back at this stage—and sometimes it’s even worse.

This is where a writer can spend an entire day taking one word out and then putting it back in. This is where a writer can suddenly decide after spending a year or more editing and editing and editing a book that it isn’t really the book they want to write. I’ve actually seen talented writers throw out brilliantly written and edited books that were almost done, because something—or possibly someone—told them their books weren’t good enough.

The only solution I have to this is to let it go.

Send your story out to the world. If it really isn’t good enough, a lot of people will probably let you know. But chances are it will be perfect in some reader’s eyes, and then all that work you put in will be worth it. And who knows? Maybe that reader will decide to write a book, too. And then your book will make her feel insecure, because she’ll have no idea how hard you had to work to make your story shine.

E is for editing, and when it comes to writing, editing is everything.