The past few months, I’ve critiqued around 90 stories. During that time, I’ve noticed a common issue that has left me scratching my head all too often. It’s an issue every writer deals with, but not every writer knows to address until someone (a beta, an editor, a reader, etc.) points it out to them.
“What’s the point of this story?”
“Your plot feels aimless.”
“Why is this happening?”
“Why is that happening?”
“Why? Why? WHY?”
As obvious as it is, stories need a purpose. Whether it’s something as grand as saving the world, or something subtler like self-discovery, every story needs something that drives it forward. A key motive that is the backbone of everything else. I like to call this the “Big Why.”
“Why am I writing this story?”
“Why does my protagonist exist?”
“Why will readers care?”
You should be asking yourself these vital questions while you write. No, you shouldn’t let them consume you to the point you can’t write anything at all. In fact, I’d recommend during your first draft (or two) you simply write and not worry about the Big Why. Let it develop as you go along. However, by the time you’re approaching your final draft(s), you should have a solid answer. If you can’t verbalize the main purpose of your story to a stranger (yes, I know we all hate the dreaded, “What’s your story about?” question) then you need to step back and think about it.
Once you’ve nailed down your Big Why, it’s time to support it. For example, you can say, “My story is about a girl with special powers who saves the world from an evil madman.” But, why? Why does this particular girl have to be the one who saves the world? Can’t someone else do it? And why does this evil madman want to take over the world? And why is he evil? And a madman?
As storytellers, we need to dig deeper with our motives. Saying, “I don’t know” or “Just because” won’t satisfy readers. Everything needs to have a reason, and those reasons need to be unique. Don’t say the girl has to save the world because she’s gifted (or, worse, because she’s “the chosen one”). Give her depth, obstacles, tragedy, hope–something that triggers her desire to rescue mankind. And don’t say the madman wants to conquer the world because he’s power hungry. Why does he want power? Why is he so hellbent on world domination? Again, “I don’t know” and “Just because” won’t cut it. Give readers more. Help them understand so they’re able to connect to your story.
Digging into the Big Why means digging into every aspect of your story. If you don’t have a viable explanation for each component, then you need to consider the reason for its existence.
Characters
Do you ever notice when a book gets adapted into a film, the film version sometimes (ahem, all the time) chops out secondary characters (and subplots)? Yeah, it annoys me too. But let’s think about why Hollywood does this: They have to condense a 400-page book into a two-hour film. That means they have to be picky and only use what matters. And what matters are the things that support the Big Why.
Although I hate seeing my favorite books butchered, I have to admit I like Hollywood’s general strategy from an editor’s standpoint. It’s brutal, but necessary. All of us (myself included) have to be willing to whittle our stories down to the essentials. Which means we have to examine all aspects, including our characters. As much as we want all of our imaginary friends and foes to stick around, sometimes–er, many times–it’s not in our story’s best interest. We have to put on our “Hollywood Caps” and start asking, “Why?”
“Why does this character exist?”
“Why do I need three sidekicks? Isn’t two plenty?”
“Why do I have two women with different names, but similar roles?”
Why, why, WHY? Just like The Big Why, we have to evaluate each character and figure out what the point of their existence is. If they’re not driving the plot forward, then give them a hug and part ways. Or take what you love about them and combine it with another (more valuable) character.
Plots
Just like with characters, not every plot line needs to stay in a story. In fact, the more plots you have, the foggier the Big Why can become. This isn’t to say multiple plots lines are bad. Not at all! Just look at “The Lord of the Rings,” “The Fall of Giants,” and “The Lunar Chronicles.” Each has multiple plots, but each of those plots matter. And, one way or another, they all contribute to the Big Why.
Unfortunately, many writers fall into the deep, dark Plot Pit. They keep inessential story lines that take readers away from the main focus and into a maze of, “Huh?” These include random tangents, excessive info dumps, and sentimental scenes nobody but the author understands. So, once again, as you’re editing, sit back and ask yourself why:
“Why does this plot exist?”
“Why is this scene relevant?”
“Why will this plot matter in the long run?”
Words, Words, Words
I know we’re getting down to the nitty-gritty, but we must if we want our stories (and their Big Whys) to stand out. We can create the best plots and the best characters, but readers won’t be able to appreciate them if they get lost in translation. So, everyone grab their beloved red pen and start asking:
“Why do I need this paragraph? This sentence? This word?”
“Why did I use dialogue here?”
“Why not break up this paragraph and add more white space?”
Obviously this isn’t a step to take during your first couple of drafts (if you do, you won’t get anything done). But, when you begin to edit and polish your manuscript, go at it. Attack every page with your red pen. Slash the fat, rearrange words, and tighten things up until every aspect of your story reads loud and clear.
The more you ask, “Why?” about your story, the clearer its purpose will become. Just remember there’s a time and place for everything, and that includes asking this important question. Don’t let it bog you down every step of the way. Ask it when the time is right…Just make sure to ask it at some point.
Don’t forget, my editing website is up and running! If you’re looking for someone to help with your story, check out Jen’s Edits and Critiques.
For more tips, visit my Jen’s Editing Tips page!
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It.
This is my personal take on first drafts: They are 100% private and nobody should read them except you. Think of it like this: You’re the lone survivor of the apocalypse and you’re really bored, so you decide to strip down to your birthday suit and go dancing in the streets. Hey, why not? Nobody’s around to see or judge you.
Some writers will say you have to take a break after you finish your first draft. I say it’s up to you. If you’re burned out and exhausted, then yes, give yourself a much deserved hiatus from your story. A week, two weeks, a month…Then get back to work.
Draft one can be tough, but it’s nothing compared to what happens next:
Perhaps you didn’t feel the need to take a break after you finished your first draft, but now you need to. You can’t approach your third draft until you’ve put some distance between yourself and your beloved story.
As you begin working on your third draft, ask yourself tough questions like:
Once all of your betas have returned their feedback, it’s time to evaluate it and find out what the general consensus is.
Now that your betas have given you the thumbs up, it’s time to sit down and revise–again. Take all the feedback you’ve received to seal your plot holes, adjust your sentence structures, deepen your characters, etc. Fix any and all problems and strive to make your manuscript the best it can be.
This is when you look out your front window and see hundreds of survivors lining up and down the same road you once danced naked in. They’ve come to meet you…and judge you.
Yep, you’ve made it! You’ve done everything you can to prepare your manuscript for the world. Whether that’s sending it to agents or getting it self-published, you should feel proud of yourself and proud of the story you’ve worked so hard on!
You can’t expect to produce a quality story if you’re not taking the time to write it. It’s as simple as that.
While my critique from the judges focused on a couple of minor plot hiccups, many of the other competitors received this comment:
Today, I’d like to share some of those strategies with you. It’s important to know how to cut the s–hit the delete button and remove unnecessary words from your work. It doesn’t matter if you’re writing flash fiction or a novel. Tight, concise sentences will make your story stronger.
Was. Should. Could. Felt. Heard. Saw. Thought. Noticed…
My business communications professor at CSU loved to mark my papers in red pen. She crossed out half of my words, circled the other half, and alway–always–scrawled this note at the bottom: “Go on a which hunt, Jenna!”
This is my policy about dialogue tags: If you don’t need it, don’t use it.
Two weeks ago, I wrote my second round story for the NYCM Flash Fiction Challenge. Besides being a total emotional drain, “Kleine Mäuse” was a mental drain too. I had to chop over 700 words from my first draft to meet the competition’s strict 1K limit. For hours, I narrowed the plot, condensed my sentences, and deleted any and all fluff.
Personally, my favorite editing trick is to read my work out loud. Not just once, but multiple times. And not just to myself, but to someone else. Or, better yet, to have someone else read it to me.
Hopefully you’ll be able to use one or all of these strategies to cut the you-know-what from your work and take it to the next level.
Just like the word “as,” this thing can wreak havoc on your writing, heaping on unnecessary problems if overused. In the past, I made this mistake too, babbling on and on. But, with a lot of hard work, I broke the habit, shattering it with sharper, clearer sentences. Today, I hope to help you break the habit too by showing you how to refrain from tacking on extra thoughts at the end of your sentences, carrying on for no good reason.
Okay, okay. I might’ve overdone it on that last bit. But, hopefully, you were able to follow along and pick up on today’s topic.
Just like the word “as,” “ing” transitions can hurt your story. The more you use them, the more problems occur: Redundancy. Wordiness. Confusion. Over-explaining. Telling, not showing…The list goes on and on.
Let’s get the most obvious out of the way first, shall we? As you probably noticed in my example above, “ing” transitions tend to drag sentences on and on and on…and on. They extend sentences beyond the point of clarity and comfort, cause repetition, and have the potential to suck all of the drama and tension out of a scene.
Writer: “I’m not sure if the reader will completely get this sentence, so I’m going to add an ‘ing’ transition to give them extra details, saving them from possible confusion and helping them see the picture I’m trying to paint.”
Bueller?…Bueller?
I hope you found this editing tip useful! Don’t forget, my editing website is up and running. If you’re looking for someone to help with your story, check out 
Okay, okay. I’ll stop before we all start banging our heads against a wall. But, hopefully, you picked up on what I’ll be discussing today: The word “as.”
It’s amazing how innocent and sweet this two-letter word seems. But, I assure you it’s not. Writers need to be wary of overusing it in their work for a few reasons:
“As” is just like every other word out there. The more you use it, the more noticeable it becomes. And the more noticeable it becomes, the more distracted readers get. And the more distracted readers get, the less focus they have. And the less focus they have, the more likely they’ll put your story aside and find another.
Way back when, a fellow writer told me, “Stop being lazy! Get rid of the ‘as’ crutch and find a stronger way to word your sentences.”
Maybe you’ve noticed by this point, but every time I use “as,” my sentences get longer, clunkier, and more confusing. That’s because they draw out sentences and add unnecessary fluff.
To kick things off, I’m going to discuss one of my biggest editing pet peeves: White space.
As you probably assumed, white space refers to the empty areas on a page. You know, the lovely gaps between paragraphs. The simple, yet powerful tool writers use to present their stories to audiences.
The majority of readers love to see white space on a page. It immediately welcomes them into a story, encourages them to keep reading, and tricks them into thinking they’re reading less (even though they’re not). To most readers, white space says, “Hey, I’m your buddy. I’m not gonna overwhelm you with long, dense paragraphs that make you want to quit before you’ve even begun.”
White space is one of the best and easiest ways to control the pacing of your story. To speed things up, use more of it. To slow things down, use less of it. Simple, right?
Think about how a song would sound if it stayed in the same key from start to finish:
One of my favorite things about white space is it ensures readers know something significant happened. Like, a new character was introduced or a plot twist was revealed. It also helps magnetize key moments in a scene. It ups the level of drama, hilarity, or, as seen in the example below, terror.
In addition to emphasizing vital plot points and powerful moments in a story, white space helps cut down on confusion.
I finally decided to take the plunge a few months ago, during the 
That’s when it hit me: People value my opinion, and they value it enough to pay me. So, why not? Why not pursue another passion of mine by creating a freelance editing service?
Well, I handled each project just fine. I successfully edited two manuscripts, critiqued eight short stories, evaluated a screenplay (which is now being considered by 
Jen's Pen Den 