POV: How to Fix Head Hopping

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close third, editing advice, editing tips, head hopping, omniscient, POV shift, Sherrily Kenyon, writing advice, writing technique, writing tips

I had this post requested a while ago, and I couldn’t figure out how to put it into words at first. But as I’ve been writing lessons for a mentoring program I’m working on, I finally figured it out.

So here it goes.

First, head hopping is when we dip into more than one character’s POV in a single scene. This isn’t omniscient POV, but rather a switch between close-third perspectives.

Most editors advise against head-hopping because when we switch mid-scene, we’re not often warned that the change has occurred, and the reader is more likely to grow confused. My argument is that writers should do their best to structure of everything clearly so that the work happens in creating imagery out of language, and the reader can delve into the world instead of staying on the surface to decipher what’s happening and where.

Now, it’s been said that head hopping is more acceptable in romance and erotica because the relationship is more important than the characters individually. It helps increase tension to have access to both of their thoughts.

Do I write my romance/erotic fiction this way? No. I’m not convinced. I have seen romance writers do this successfully, like Sherrilyn Kenyon does in her Dark Hunter series, but overall, I’m not a fan of it. It confuses me too often, and I have a harder time connecting with a particular character.

So, with that out of the way, let’s talk about how we identify head hopping.

The best way to identify is to categorize, or color code, a first draft. It’s easiest to do this to a first draft so that you don’t waste time making the parts you cut and have to redraft pretty.

You can color code on a printed copy or in your word processer. Simply section highlight the parts of the story that dip into a character’s POV. This will be their internal thoughts/dialogue, the analysis of the scene or characters, and their opinions of/reactions to what’s happening in the story.

Here’s an example:

Jennifer rushed into the room, adrenaline numbing her legs and burning her lungs. The giant’s destructive footsteps didn’t shake this far into the farmland, yet.

Her hair fell from her ponytail as she swung the door closed and grabbed for everything she thought might be valuable on the move.

Frank didn’t know yet, that a giant fell from a beanstalk that’d grown overnight on the other side of the city, so he shook his head and poured another cup of coffee. What is she looking for?

Note how we’ve gone from inside of Jennifer—as she’s the only one who knows about the giant—to inside of Frank, who doesn’t understand why she’s rummaging through their stuff. There are several places where small tweaks can keep this in Jennifer’s POV.

Jennifer rushed into the room, adrenaline numbing her legs and burning her lungs. The giant’s destructive footsteps didn’t shake this far into the farmland, yet.

Her hair fell from her ponytail, teasing the corners of her eyes, as she swung the door closed and grabbed for everything that might be valuable on the move.

A giant fell from a beanstalk that’d grown overnight on the other side of the city.

Frank, her husband, shook his head and poured a cup of coffee in the small, attached kitchen. “What are you looking for?”

In this version, no one needs to tell us that Frank doesn’t know about the giant, we can see that he doesn’t by his external reaction to her. The rest is a reflection of Jennifer’s reaction to her situation: she saw the giant; she’s freaked out; she’s searching; she places who Frank is for us; and she hears him ask the question.

This creates clarity for the reader to experience the situation rather than being told about it, another reason to stay in POV. Readers like to put the pieces together because they’re smart.

Another clue of a POV shift is description. If the character is describing themselves physically, we’ve shifted out of their POV. The camera-effect shifts us into the omniscient perspective. We can’t see ourselves, except in mirrors, and that’s often a cliché technique.

This may be a pesky task the first few times you try it, but seeing a draft in colors rather than chapters helps separate us from the story to see its parts.

Once you have the whole thing color-coded—or the parts you’ve identified as problematic—see what color is most present in the scene/chapter. That’s likely the POV character for that scene and the rest should shift to his or her perspective. Some of it may not make it. If it’s an important detail, find another way to include it—dialogue, a new scene in the other character’s POV, some prop that can provide the information needed.

Sometimes, all you need to do is split a scene in two and allow more than one character to describe what’s going on and fill in the gaps. I often like the tension that comes in a mid-scene cut to the other perspective. It’s a nice trick to use every now and again.

Well, there’s my opinion and advice.

How do you identify and/or fix head hopping? When do you feel like it works or doesn’t work? Got any questions? Let me know in the comments below.

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Drop the Deets: My tip for eliminating pesky dialogue tags

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details, dialogue tags, dont just dont, editing, how to, humor, pet peeve, showing not telling, triggered, writers, writing

Hi, I’m Alisha, and I don’t like dialogue tags.

Aware that a great many readers and writers could give two shits about when, where, how often, and which dialogue tags are used, they rile me up.  Plain and simple.

Let me show you why.

First, to clarify, dialogue tags are necessary. They keep us on track when characters have extended conversations. And if said or asked is used to do this, they essentially become invisible. No problem here. Use them to assign a speaker—sparingly.

Now, where I get to be a bit of an editing snob: if your readers can’t tell the difference between most of your characters when they speak, this means other issues need addressed. However, the below suggestions can help with that stage of revision, too.

Next, cut the fluffy, telling dialogue tags. The ones that say how someone speaks rather than earning the true emotion of the speaker.  I’m talking about growled, mumbled, whispered, and hissing, etc. Side note, don’t have characters’ hiss without at least a few s-words. Yes, I’ve seen it, and yes, it’s infuriating. Or, god forbid, the use of adverbs to indicate these things, like he said wistfully or she said teasingly. Don’t. Just don’t.

The trick is to drop details between dialogue to nix these and develop scene, character, and tension.

Develop scene by scattering descriptions when a pause is needed. If you struggle setting scene, as I often have issue with, this is a great place for small details: a loud, neon pink duvet; the rubber frog stuck in an inner-tube on the bookshelf; a sun-bleached couch hidden in the tall grass. Be specific, use details that differentiate the scene or that reflect what the characters are thinking about.

This type of detailing helps slow down a tense scene where a lot of dialogue takes place. If you want the tension to grow, let the reader dwell on what’s said by providing sensory input that heightens the feel of the scene.

Also, to slow down and deepen tensions means providing internalization. We don’t simply talk and listen during a conversation. We digest and respond to the other person. Maybe your characters are on the same page, and their blood is pumping, their excited, and they’re thinking, Yes! Yes, finally someone who isn’t a moron. They get it. Thus, when they respond verbally with, “I absolutely agree,” you won’t need to dump why they agree into their conversation. It’s not needed. The reader feels the same.

But maybe, the characters are not in agreement with each other, and they’re trying to navigate unfriendly territory without slitting each other’s throats. Then amidst the conversation, your POV character might think to himself, This guy. How do they keep making this guy? All slick and shiny with his clichéd euphemisms and shoddy tan. Forget this, I won’t buy from him. All the while, the other guy is selling him a used car—persistent beyond normal pleasantries.

If you’ve met people that you connect with or dislike immediately, you know the emotion that comes with this, but readers should get a taste, too. Hence, internalizing. This doesn’t just mean thoughts. It means physical reactions, too. The heat of anger, the cold of fear, the frenzy of adrenaline, the gooeyness of love. Throw some of that in there, too. Steer clear of the clichés with personification or metaphor.

Finally, show a bit more character, beyond scene and internalization are other senses that we can appeal to, other details that we can drop. Build a character slowly through a conversation. First, notice the elaborate ring on the old man’s middle finger that seems to glow strangely when the sun hits it right. Then when he speaks of a long-gone lover, show how his dark eyes shine, glossy with a deep pain that crinkles when he looks away. Catch a whiff of his cologne, astringent with undertones of grease and cedar. Finally, the notch in his ear, twisting his lobe that you didn’t notice under the shadow of his hat until he leaned forward.

We don’t see everything about a person at once. If we did, life would be boring, and when we do it in writing, our stories grow boring. And don’t merely show us things. Make us feel them, taste them, and smell them.

Don’t be afraid to give your characters’ tics—picking at their nails, rubbing their hands together, tugging at their shirt hem—we all have tells for our emotions. The reader might not know exactly why a character keeps spinning their ring around their finger, but the writer should, and they should show it.

Let me know your tips and tricks for eliminating dialogue tags and world-building. Or disagree with me, I can take it.

Editing Tip: My Take on Eliminating Words and Sharpening Language

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advice, drafting, editing tip, eliminating words, online writing tools, prowritingaid, sharpening language, show don't tell, strong language, writing tips

Editing Tip: My Take on Eliminating Words and Sharpening Language

So, you’ve finished your first draft, gone in and smoothed over your plot, and now it’s time to focus on language rather than content. Where do you start?

Years ago, I stumbled across a list of words to eliminate and an online writer’s tool as I edited my first novel; the combination became my first step at cutting vague or repetitious words, finding awkward language, typos, and the like. Since then, my editor and I have added to this list, and I’ve sent it off to several of the authors I’ve worked with.

They’ve proven effective.

Let me share my methods with you.

The list(s):

Original words to eliminate:

• That
• As (was)
• Were
• Just
• Only
• Try
• Tried
• Moment
• Turn
• Glance
• Fro (From)
• Could/Would
• Had
• Almost
• Barely
• Nearly
• Even
• Somehow
• Something
• Still
• There
• Manage
• Feel/Felt
• Like

Alisha’s Additions

• Think
• Thought
• Notice
• Saw
• Look
• Hear(d)
• Taste

Anthony’s Additions:

• Got
• Went
• Very
• Important
• Used to
• Every
• Never
• Seem
• Often
• Big
• Small
• Have got

Obviously, you can’t cut them all, but look closely at the lines you use these in and play with the language to see if the word(s) can be eliminated. This typically makes language stronger and more active—more show and less tell.

The easiest way to utilize this list is to start at the top. Use the find option (command+f for mac or control+f for pc) and search for one word at a time through a chapter. This allows you to isolate and eliminate much more effectively than working through all of these words at once. Once you hit the end of the chapter, move on to the next word until you’ve worked through them all.

Finally, copy and paste the whole chapter (or part depending on its length) through ProWriting Aid (http://prowritingaid.com/). Join with the free membership, that’s all that is really needed. Your editor will fine tune what’s left.

How do you hone your language?

Feel free to comment, ask questions, and make your own suggestions.

Editing Tip: Squelching Feedback by R. Judas Brown

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Alan Rickman, alphas, Art, beta readers, betas, brainstorming, broad picture, critics, critiques, ed greenwood group, editing, editing tips, feedback, focused feedback, grammar, Harry Potter, inexperienced, J.K. Rowling, kill your darlings, professional, prose, publishing, quincy writers guild, R. Judas Brown, readers, release, respect, rewriting, Severus Snape, squelching feedback, stories, suggestions, sullied, swap ideas, voice

Editing Tip: Squelching Feedback (or Making the Most of Critiques) by R. Judas Brown

One of the most useful tools of the editorial process comes once you have completed your story: your draft readers.  They are the first people who get to see your new baby.  You spent days, weeks, and months laboring over sentence structure and word choice, now — whether it’s to your local critique group or a cadre of personally recruited alpha- and beta-readers – you pass your new baby into their waiting hands.  Hands filled with sharpened knives. Their cruel eyes glint with malice. Sharpened fangs drip—

What I am saying is they are going to tear into it.

And they should.

No matter how thorough you are, you still have work to do. Another set of eyes is invaluable in the editing process.  Your tricky brain knows the story.  It fills in details that didn’t make it onto the page.  It auto-corrects words as you proofread.  It knows the story, so it doesn’t actually need to learn the story from reading, as such it cannot fully evaluate your work.  That is why feedback is so important before your release, whether through a publisher or self-publishing.

Here are a few ways to get the most out of your reader-feedback.

• It was good. I liked it. – When you start, this seems like the best feedback you can get.  It’s good!  What more could you want?  Well, a lot more.  Is this a favorite aunt who doesn’t want to hurt your feelings?  It could be a reader inexperienced with critiquing. When you get this response, it is important to ask follow-up questions.  Some authors create reader-question sheets they send out for specific answers.

  I don’t go that far.  I prefer to get the broad picture from my readers, but I need more than rubber stamping.  I ask: what works? What doesn’t?  Did my villain feel real?  Did the wumpus scene feel like certified legitimate wumpus?  This not only helps you; it cultivates this person as a reader.  Sometimes, it can be awkward (I have asked specifically about the authenticity of lesbian scenes, having no frame of reference myself), but I chose them for a reason.

• It is bad, and you should feel bad. – This hurts. It hurts a lot, however, this is good, not just for your story’s development, but your own.  Writing is art.  Art gets criticized, and it isn’t always nice. Some authors do not handle it well.  I won’t go into the multitude of stories illustrating how to ruin a career by aggressively confronting critics on a personal level. Don’t be that guy. Be professional.  This is not only someone who (theoretically) is trying to help you, but they may be just as inept at giving feedback as the example above.

  Time for those questions again:  Was there anything that you did like?  Was it the story or the subject matter? The fact is that not every story is meant for everyone.  Is this not their thing?  Does it deal with something that they find triggering?  For instance, no matter how well you write, someone who has survived an abusive relationship may find too much of their own pain.

Those are the two extremes of blanket feedback: the all good and the all bad.  The best kind of feedback is more focused and specific.  It will usually come from readers who you have “trained” through questions to look for what you want, or from other writers who know what they would want.   These more specific responses can be far more useful, on the surface, but will still require careful consideration.

• There are a few grammar issues to correct. – I admit this phrase frustrates me more than any other, mostly because I am so self-conscious about my grammar. Grammar is important. There are rules for a reason. But–

  The analogy I always use is a red light.  Everyone knows to stop at a red light.  Yet, when rushing your hypothetical pregnant wife/girlfriend/sister to the hospital in labor, you give it a break and a glance, and blow through because you need to.  You learn the rules so you know how, when, and where you can bend them a bit. This can be a tool to storytelling, but should not be the tone of the entire story. Take a look.  Are they a stickler or did you unknowingly set a pattern that makes your story seem unpolished?

• I would have said… – Other writers love to write. We can’t help it.  It’s a thing. If you ever have a chance to watch two other writers swap story ideas, watch their faces.  They will trade looks of abject horror and betrayal as the half-formed idea they were nurturing is twisted – SULLIED! – by the perverse imagination of their counterpart who doesn’t see the same exact flowering tale they do.

  This may come with the rewriting of a sentence, a rearrangement of paragraphs, or a replotting of months of your passion.  You will want to ignore this, delete the contact, and crop this person out of every picture you have.  Don’t.  Read it and consider.  Once again, you chose them for a reason.  In this case, a measure of professional respect for their abilities as a writer.

  Writers have different voices, so you have to filter their voice out of the commentary.  Would the sentence work better re-worded a bit? If you shift a paragraph, does it become clearer?  Just because they wrote their suggestion in their voice, doesn’t invalidate it.  Just because you admire their writing, you don’t have to accept it.  Judge the raw suggestion on its own merit.

• You don’t need this. – Remember that your readers have exactly what you have given to work with. No context provided beyond that which is on the paper. When shooting the Harry Potter movies, the late Alan Rickman had to pull the director aside at times to explain a certain scene needed to be changed from the script. J. K. Rowling had given him a deeper glimpse into Severus Snape that had not yet appeared in published books.  The director deferred, because Alan had access to context the studio didn’t.

  I recently shared a few paragraphs with a good writing friend because I was pleased with the atmosphere I had laid out.  I am enamored with her as a person and author.  She absolutely eviscerated them.  I think there were a few bare sentences left. There was no atmosphere, only the bones remained.  She was not incorrect, she was offering her opinion without the context of the larger tale that would follow, the tale that would be built on what lay within this antiquated shop.

  That doesn’t mean to ignore suggested deletions.  Just bear in mind the whole story you are telling, and how that passage serves your tale.  A popular refrain is to “kill your darlings.” If it doesn’t serve the story, cut it.  Your prose doesn’t have to be bare, but it does have to do its job.

That will get you most of your mileage from feedback. As with any writing advice, I encourage you to understand that your mileage may vary.  Use what helps.  Discard the rest.  I will leave you with one final tip.

• Remember everyone involved is human. – Everyone, yourself included, is learning and fallible. Thank your readers.  Mean it.  Recognize that honesty takes bravery, and respect it.  Respect yourself.  The interaction between you and your readers can be a strong bond that leads to growth for each of you.  Cherish it.

 A recent transplant to the Midwest, R. Judas Brown has found a home along the banks of the Mississippi surrounded by wife, kids, animals, and friends. His work with fantasy, sci-fi, and horror has appeared in several anthologies. Aside from numerous solo projects, he is working with The Ed Greenwood Group, collaborating with other authors on the upcoming Split Image worlds, and serves on the Board of Directors for the Quincy Writers Guild in Quincy, IL. You can follow him on Twitter @RJudasBrown, at www.facebook.com/RJudasBrown, or visit his website at www.rjudasbrown.com.

 

Publishing Tip: No Fancy Shit. My personal take on formatting.

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agent, chapters, creative, editing, editor, fancy, format properly, formatting, guidelines, indent, margins, no fancy shit, page numbers, personal, publishers, publishing, publishing tips, reject stories, running header, spacing, standard, submission requirements, submissions, title page

Publishing Tip: No Fancy Shit. My personal take on formatting.

Often, publishers reject stories based on formatting issues because improper formatting signals that a writer doesn’t follow direction well and will be difficult to work with. If you don’t want that, format properly!

Here is my first and most important tip. Really, it should be the ONLY tip, but I’ll expand later.

Read the submission requirements for the publisher/agent/editor you are submitting to. Then format your manuscript (poem, flash fiction, short stories, novellas, novels…everything) ACCORDING TO THEIR REQUIREMENTS.

Phew. My apologies for the yelling, but seriously, why would you do anything else? That’s like not putting your name on the SAT after answer all the questions right (or any of them right.)

But, you might ask, what about publishers/agents/editors don’t have guidelines? General publishing format rules are out there (and written down here, somewhere…whenever it is I stop blathering on).

The good news is that these guidelines are basic and generate an easy base to use for more specific formats.

 

So…here’s what I’ve got.

-Standard 8.5×11 paper or file page.

-Clean, legible, professional font (Times New Roman or Courier New not Comic Sans or something Fancy) in 12-point font.

-On that note, no funky colors. Stick with black on white.

-Create 1-inch margins on all sides. (Documents sometimes come with 1.25-inch side margins).

-Use a title page with your name, address, contact info, website if applicable, and word count.

-Use page numbers; begin these on the first page of the story, not the title page.

-Put your name and story title on every page by using a header. This means if the story gets shuffled or knocked, or mixed with another story in the editing process, your story will piece back together easily. (Anthony and I personally print stories to edit them initially. Always good to have that safety net). Examples: Xavier/GREEN GRAVES/13 or Parker “Taming Susan” pg. 211 or Smith – Behind the Green Glass Door – page 88

-Double-space the entire text. This makes it easier to read and easier to write/comment on when editing. But don’t put extra spaces between paragraphs.

-Indent a half-inch for each new paragraph. If you can set your document to do this without using tab, all the better.

-Begin chapters on new pages.

-Separate scenes with a centered indicator * or #. (I prefer ###).

 

Essentially, formatting is not the place to get creative; your story should have enough of that to forego the fancy borders and fun colors. If you feel the need to do these things, take another look at your story instead.

It couldn’t hurt.

Here is some of what others have to say.

What do you have to say about formatting?