In this author spotlight, the duo of Christina Hobbs and Lauren Billings (writing as Christina Lauren) talk about their most recent book, The Honey Don’t List, and share how their writing process changes from book to book.

Christina Lauren

Christina Lauren is the combined pen name of longtime writing partners and best friends Christina Hobbs and Lauren Billings, the New York Times, USA TODAY, and #1 internationally bestselling authors of the Beautiful and Wild Seasons series, Dating You / Hating You, Autoboyography, Love and Other Words, Roomies, Josh and Hazel’s Guide to Not Dating, My Favorite Half-Night Stand, and The Unhoneymooners. Their latest novel, The Honey Don’t List, is their 25th book together.

(How and when should writers use a pen name?)

You can find them online at ChristinaLaurenBooks.com, @ChristinaLauren on Instagram, or @ChristinaLauren on Twitter.

In this post, the Christina Lauren team talks about their most recent book, The Honey Don’t List, share how their writing process changes from book to book, and more.

Dive into the world of writing and learn all 12 steps needed to complete a first draft. In this writing workshop you will tackle the steps to writing a book, learn effective writing techniques along the way, and of course, begin writing your first draft.

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Name: Christina Lauren
Literary agent: Holly Root
Book title: The Honey Don’t List
Publisher: Gallery, Simon & Schuster
Release Date: March 24, 2020
Genre: Romance

Elevator pitch for the book: James and Carey are assistants to two world-famous home renovation gurus, whose very public—and very beloved—marriage is on the rocks. When tasked with keeping their bosses’ messy marriage from publicly exploding on book tour, James and Carey start to feel sparks of their own.

What prompted you to write this book?

When we were brainstorming what we wanted to write next, we realized how fun it would be to explore a relationship between two people who are tasked with keeping a toxic celebrity marriage from dissolving. There’s so much humor and heartache to draw from a situation where you are given an impossible—and secret—task and find solidarity and companionship with the only other person who truly understands what it’s like.

(Forced Proximity: 50 reasons for your characters to be stuck together.)

How long did it take to go from idea to publication?

We outlined it in early February of 2019, and the first draft was due May 1. We tend to draft quickly, and spend a lot of time in revisions, so while the idea itself didn’t change from outline to finished book, a lot of the details did. For example, in the first draft, we had a lot more of Melissa and Rusty Tripp (the celebrity couple) in there, and then slowly pared that down so that the romance between James and Carey came through more.

Were there any surprises or learning moments in the publishing process for this title?

This is our 25th book, and there wasn’t anything particularly challenging or strange about the process this time. It was fun to outline, fun to write. We always have a great time working with the Gallery Art department on the cover design, and this one took a bit of back and forth but the process is always very cooperative and positive.

Were there any surprises in the writing process for this book?

Something that continually surprises us—and maybe shouldn’t—is how our process changes for every book. We don’t sit down and do it the same way, every time. We’ve learned to be really fluid in the drafting and revision process, and this one was no exception, particularly since this book contains other types of writing, such as police reports, twitter posts, newspaper and magazine articles, and excerpts from the celebrity couples’ book. It made the writing process feel fresh and engaging.

What do you hope readers will get out of your book?

As with any of our books, we hope our readers will find a bit of fun escape, the same way they would with a Netflix rom-com. The Honey Don’t List also has a personal element, as our heroine, Carey, has a movement disorder called dystonia that affects Lauren’s family. It was our intent to write a fun, lively story with a heroine with dystonia, who is neither defined by, nor in denial of, her physical limitations. Everyone gets a love story, plain and simple.

(Representation in Fiction: How to write characters whose experiences are outside of your own.)

If you could share one piece of advice with other authors, what would it be?

Run your own race. Don’t worry about how fast someone else writes, how much another author makes, how many followers another author has. Write what makes you excited, and the enthusiasm will come through on the page.

If you’re an author who would like to be featured in a future post, send an email to Robert Lee Brewer with the subject line “Author Spotlight” at rbrewer@aimmedia.com.

The post Christina Lauren: Write What Makes You Excited by Robert Lee Brewer appeared first on Writer's Digest.

If you have trouble with understanding the difference between a fable, a parable, and an allegory, relax: We’ve got you covered. As you’ll see, there are far more similarities than differences in these forms of storytelling. In fact, some stories fall under multiple categories at once.

(Analogy vs. Metaphor vs. Simile.)

So without further adieu, let’s jump into these.

Fable vs. Parable vs. Allegory

Fable is a short story—usually with animals as the main characters—that conveys a moral. A popular example is the story of “The Tortoise and the Hare,” in which the slow but steady tortoise beats the much faster but distracted hare. The moral of that story, of course, is that slow and steady wins the race.

Parable is a short story that teaches a moral or spiritual lesson. Popular examples include the parables told by Jesus Christ in the Bible, including the stories of the prodigal son and the good Samaritan. But parables also include popular stories like “The Boy Who Cried Wolf,” about a boy who constantly pranks people about the approach of a wolf until they don’t listen when a real one appears.

Allegory is work of art that can reveal a hidden meaning, usually of moral importance. For fiction, this usually involves characters, settings, and/or events that represent other issues. For instance, L. Frank Baum’s The Wizard of Oz presents three characters that represent something beyond themselves:

• The scarecrow, who represents a thoughtless agrarian and rural past.
• The lion, who represents the fear of “the king of the animals.”
• The tin man, who represents heartless technological progress.

Even Dorothy represents people who dream of better and bigger things only to learn that there’s really no place like home.

(10 best dystopian novels for writers.)

Other popular allegories include Animal Farm, by George Orwell; Lord of the Flies, by William Golding; The Scarlet Letter, by Nathaniel Hawthorne; and The Handmaid’s Tale, by Margaret Atwood.

Make sense?

A final note on fables, parables, and allegories:

If it feels like there’s a lot of potential for crossover in these terms, then you’re correct. Parables and fables are actually short allegories. The main difference between parables and fables is that the main characters of parables tend to be humans, while fables feature animals, plants, and inanimate objects.

Learn more in the online course, Grammar and Mechanics, from Writer’s Digest University:

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I openly admit I was a late bloomer when it came to reading and writing. As such, I often tried to keep my punctuation as simple as possible, which meant I avoided using semicolon. If I used it, I worried that I misused it. So this is a subject near and dear to my heart.

(End the debate: Why the Oxford comma is so cool!)

It wasn’t until I started working on the Writer’s Market Books series that I grew comfortable using the semicolon; in fact, it proved invaluable for the many complicated serial lists we use in the books. And now, I can’t imagine a life without this necessary piece of punctuation.

Let’s take a look at proper semicolon use and how using the semicolon can add a little spice to your writing.

Examining Correct Semicolon Use

For the longest time, I thought semicolons were a piece of punctuation that indicated a longer pause than a comma that was simultaneously shorter than a period or colon. I guess that may be true, though I don’t know notice the pause when I read in my head. Rather, I think about how a semicolon connects things—specifically, independent clauses.

Semicolon Rule #1: The semicolon links two independent clauses that are closely related in thought.

Example #1: Robert liked reading; books provided him with information, as well as an escape.

Example #2: Thomas flew his kite at the park; Mary flew hers at the beach.

In the first example, Robert enjoyment of reading is one independent clause, and the second independent clause builds on that first thought by explaining what books offer him. In the second example, both independent clauses explain where people flew their kites.

Semicolon Rule #2: Remove the conjunction when you use a semicolon (in most cases).

If you look at the two examples above, you’ll notice the conjunction words are removed. In both cases, the semicolon could be replaced with a comma and conjunction word.

Example #1: Robert liked reading, because books provided him with information, as well as an escape.

Example #2: Thomas flew his kite at the park, and Mary flew hers at the beach.

These examples are all correct. So it’s really a matter of taste and style for using either up to this point. Also, eagle-eyed readers will notice that I said this conjunction rule is correct “in most cases.” The exception comes in the next rule.

Semicolon Rule #3: Use semicolons in a serial list that contains extra punctuation within the list or when a previous independent clause contains one or more commas.

This is how I first came to know and feel comfortable with the semicolon, because the Writer’s Market Books are filled with lists.

Example #1: This editor likes adult fiction, including science fiction, fantasy, mystery, and romance; young adult fiction, including literary, coming-of-age, and dystopias; and adult nonfiction, mostly self-help related to personal discovery.

Example #2: Thomas flew his kite at the park, ate pizza for lunch, and read a book; Bobby tossed baseball for an hour and took a nap; and Carla watched television.

In the first example, the semicolon helps readers know where the list related to the main categories of adult fiction, young adult fiction, and adult nonfiction begin and end. In the second example, these could be three separate sentences, sure, but they connect well with the semicolon too. Using all commas in these examples would be confusing.

A few more thoughts on semicolon use

The first final thing I want you to notice is that capitalization rules for the semicolon are the same as with the comma. This is not always the case with colons, but that’s a post for another day.

The other final thing I want to share is that it’s totally fine to use conjunctive adverbs—words like however, therefore, finally, and then—with semicolons.

Example #1: Robert liked reading; therefore, he was often found at the library.

Example #2: Cindy flew her kite at the park; moreover, she did nearly everything at the park.

Again, you’ll notice in these examples that writers could easily get away with avoiding the semicolon altogether, which is what I used to do. However, I hope you don’t avoid the semicolon out of fear—as I used to do; rather, let it reflect your own stylistic leanings.

Learn more in the online course, Grammar and Mechanics, from Writer’s Digest University:

The post How to Make Your Semicolon Use Daring and Correct (Grammar Rules) by Robert Lee Brewer appeared first on Writer's Digest.

Let’s start with defining the Oxford comma (also known as a serial comma—or even a Harvard comma apparently): It’s the comma that follows the penultimate item in a list of three or more things. And it’s apparently a thing that many writers and grammarians love to debate, though I’m not sure why.

(Analogy vs. Metaphor vs. Simile.)

Let’s take a look at the Oxford comma debate and why using the serial comma actually makes things easier—despite an extra comma here and there.

The Oxford Comma Debate

As far as I can tell, the main argument against using the Oxford comma is that it’s somehow easier to not insert a comma at the end of a list of three or more items. Let’s look at this example: We invited my parents, Thomas and Nancy.

This makes great sense if I invited two people named Thomas and Nancy, who both happen to be my parents. Plus, I included their names for easy reference. But if I actually invited four people, then this could be confusing, because I should’ve done one of the following:

Example #1 (with serial comma): We invited my parents, Thomas, and Nancy.

Example #2 (sans serial comma): We invited Thomas, Nancy and my parents.

While both of those examples are now correct and make sense, the door opened by not consistently using the Oxford comma seems to tempt a lot of possible problems for the sake of omitting a comma. I love streamlined language as much as the next person, but this seems like excessive laziness to me. Is it really so hard to insert a serial comma at the end of both lists?

What do you think?

Here are a few more examples:

Oxford comma: He shared the news, his breakfast, and coffee with his guests.
No Oxford comma: He shared the news, his breakfast and coffee with his guests.

Oxford comma: She reads young adult, science fiction, and nonfiction.
No Oxford comma: She reads young adult, science fiction and nonfiction.

In the first example, does he share the news along with his breakfast and coffee with his guests, or is the news in actuality his breakfast and coffee? In the second example, does she read young adult, science fiction, and all manner of nonfiction, or does she read young adult—both science fiction and science nonfiction?

Maybe both examples without the serial comma make sense to some (maybe even a majority of) people who read them. But why risk confusion in the first place? Does that extra comma really take so much effort on the part of the writer or editor?

I loathe excess, but the consistent use of the Oxford comma actually makes language—reading and writing—so much easier to comprehend; and that’s why I love it!

Learn more in the online course, Grammar and Mechanics, from Writer’s Digest University:

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Learn how to write BDSM romance with heart and soul in this piece by Joey W. Hill, author of 50 published contemporary and paranormal BDSM romances.

How did a North Carolina woman living in a small town make a successful 15+ year career out of writing BDSM romance? By understanding three things: 1) what BDSM romance is, 2) who reads it, and 3) the right mindset to write it.

What is BDSM Romance?

Many authors (and readers) who haven’t read BDSM romance believe it is about lots of sex and dirty words. Oh, and the sex starts on page one. Cue the chick-a-bow-wow music and the copy repair man and busty secretary…

There is a strong sexual component to BDSM romance and yes, many use sexually explicit words that fit the moment or characters. And good BDSM romance is arousing. My favorite compliment from a reader is “my husband loves your books, and he hasn’t read ONE!” But the reason for that praise isn’t because I know how to write good sex mechanics, or I have an impressive command of explicit terms for genitalia. Check one-star reviews for BDSM romance, and they’ll often include comments like, “It was one sex scene after another; no connection to the characters. It left me cold.”

So if it’s not endless sex scenes that make your BDSM romance successful, what is it?

Let’s talk about Dirty Dancing.

No one expected the film to become a classic, with over 30 years of enduring popularity. But when we sat down in the theater, the compelling characters drew us in, the love story engaged our hearts, and we could relate to the conflict. Oh, and wait, what was that other thing about it? Dancing.

The dancing was integral to the evolution of the characters, and provided insight into who they were, which made us care so much more about them. It was also a vehicle to resolve the conflicts and helped us cheer when Baby indeed did not get left in the corner. In short, dancing was a vital part of every key scene of the movie, including that unforgettable erotic scene between Johnny and Baby, when they first made love to the background music of “These Arms of Mine.”

(Love Between the Covers: Inside the World of Romance Writing.)

In BDSM romance, the eroticism is the dancing. It ties it all together, advances our understanding of the characters, helps them grow, resolve conflicts and brings us to a satisfying conclusion. If an author attempting to write BDSM romance crafts what he/she considers the “real story” and then caulks it with sex scenes, those seams will show. The sex is as instrumental to building the heart and soul of the relationship as any other part of the story.

Important note, however. It doesn’t mean actual sex happens on the first page, though it can. It also might not happen until halfway through the book. BDSM romance’s primary audience are female romance readers. Women need foreplay. The simmering may start on the first page, but the truly powerful erotic moments happen after the readers are invested in the characters and their story. Which leads to our next point.

Do you yearn to write a romantic story? If so, you need to know what sets romance writing apart from other types of fiction. This course explores why romance is the same, yet different. Some essential components of romance are unique to the genre, while some romance requirements are identical to those of any good fiction story. Neither Stephen King nor Tom Clancy could sit down and write a romance unless he first familiarized himself with the specific factors that create a successful romance. This workshop will help you to understand those specific factors that make up the specialized world of romantic fiction.

Click to continue.

Who is reading BDSM romance?

BDSM romance evolved with the desire to read romance that more closely aligns with the sexual imagination of its readership. As sexual expression for women became more liberated over the past few decades, romance discovered it had the breathing room to explore their fantasies more deeply.

To put this in context, think back to when romance authors started “going beyond the bedroom door.” At the time it happened, many romance readers had reached the point they wanted to go into the bedroom with the characters. They wanted to not only explore the romance and sexual tension that happened before actual sex happened, they wanted to see how the characters evolved emotionally during sex, and with sex as an ongoing part of the equation.

As these romances continued to go past the bedroom door, the bodice ripper genre was routinely offering heroes who would “seemingly” overwhelm the heroine with pleasure. Hold her wrists down as he was bringing her to climax, threaten her with a spanking, blindfold her and feed her from his fingertips to teach her to trust him. The authors of these books were tapping into power exchange dynamics. Not always in the most politically correct way, but they were following their own and their readers’ fantasies toward the realization of actual Dom/sub romance relationships and protocols. Kind of like how we moved from the “never mention protection because it’s not romantic” mandate to the current “protection wasn’t mentioned, and it really pulled the reader out of the story” reality.

So the readers reading erotic romance now, particularly BDSM romance, are simply the readers who have traveled past the bedroom door and continue to explore sexual fantasies within the contexts of the romances they love. Which means they are looking for the same quality romance fiction as they always have. They demand excellent characterization, strong writing, and an engaging plot line. What happens to the characters must matter to them; otherwise, they won’t buy more of that author’s work. The driving factor in any story with “romance” in its genre description is people falling in love, and/or more deeply exploring that relationship.

(8 benefits of reading and writing romance novels.)

BDSM offers an intriguing additional layer to that relationship. The best romance in any genre works because it’s a mix of fantasy and reality. In BDSM romance, the fantasy can be the glitzy club, or how smoothly the session goes without a lot of pre-negotiation, or how intuitive the Dom/me is. The reality part will be the emotions impacting the characters, what the BDSM dynamics unlock inside them and reveal, to the readers and each other. BDSM is a power exchange, which requires trust, intimacy and, when done right, achieves a connection that can be breathtaking, on page or off.

Good romance also connects to our real lives, and BDSM romance is no different. Characters have families, work issues, stresses, etc. The Dom/sub relationship and their BDSM practices integrate with that reality. The elements that make someone a Dom or sub show themselves in those situations, too.

Now, another good point about BDSM romance. Many readers who read BDSM romance do not practice it. They probably picked up the first book because it was intriguing, to read about a world that wasn’t their own. But what kept them reading in the genre is they found common emotional ground, things in the characters’ journey they recognized; desires, needs or motivations that were familiar. The readers realized this world that seemed so different from their own, isn’t really. But it’s different enough to keep them visiting for the escape, as well as the emotional exploration.

Can you be a BDSM romance author?

If any of the article points above resonated with you, if you found yourself saying “yes, that’s the kind of romance I love to read and want to write,” then you are on the right track. An author wanting to write BDSM romance will love, and be eager to use, sexual expression to forward the emotional aspects of the romantic relationship. Caulking in sex scenes, as noted above, is not even on that author’s radar. He/she already has an idea of what kind of erotic scenes they want in the book, and how they’ll further the story, deepen the character development and move the plot forward with them.

An interviewer (from Romance Divas) once asked me a question that pretty much described the function of the erotic scenes in a BDSM romance: “Each sex scene is part of the character’s journey to a specified goal: a happy ending, freedom, self-actualization. How do you add layers to each sexual encounter to give the reader a sense of that journey?”

The answer to that is something anyone penning a BDSM romance should ask themselves, with every page they write.

Want more info on writing BDSM Romance? Email Joey at storywitch@storywitch.com for a PDF of BDSM Romance: Start with the Heart and Soul, the handout from her 2018 RWA Chicago workshop. [Note: Joey doesn’t collect email addresses: This offer is a “pay it forward,” with the selfish hope that it results in better BDSM romances for her to read!]

When you take this online writing course, you will learn how to create believable fiction characters and construct scenes with emotional depth and range. Create characters readers will love and develop a strong point of view for your fiction book today!

Click to continue.

The post How to Write BDSM Romance: Start With the Heart and Soul (and Dirty Dancing) by Joey W. Hill appeared first on Writer's Digest.

Learn when you’re using a metaphor vs. personification with Grammar Rules from the Writer’s Digest editors, including a few examples of correct usages.

It’s easy to confuse terms about figures of speech, especially when they intersect, and I think that is especially true when it comes to personification and metaphor. After all, there are several times when a person uses metaphor in the same sentence as personification.

(Analogy vs. Metaphor vs. Simile.)

Let’s take a look at what makes a metaphor and what makes personification, so that we can know when we’re using one or the other.

Metaphor vs. Personification

Metaphor is a word or phrase that takes on the meaning of something else. For instance, a person may say that a job is a dream, or that a football coach is a business manager (even though neither statement is true). It’s a figure of speech often employed in poetry.

(Simile vs. metaphor: Smackdown!)

Personification is a figure of speech that attributes human nature and characteristics to something that it not human—whether living or nonliving. When the wind howls, when pastries tempt, when the sun smiles, and when stars wink; these are all personifications. And it’s applicable to living creatures too: Ants marching; hyenas laughing; and trees hiding.

Make sense?

Here are a few examples:

Metaphor: His face was stone.
Personification: The stone ignored us.

Metaphor: The leaves are dancers.
Personification: The leaves danced in the wind.

There are times when metaphor and personification cross over. For instance, metaphor becomes personification with a little push: The leaves are dancers twirling with abandon. The “leaves are dancers” is a metaphor; the “leaves twirling with abandon” is personification.

Learn more in the online course, Grammar and Mechanics, from Writer’s Digest University:

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What is the plural form of email? Is it email? Emails? Email messages? Learn the answer to these questions and more with Grammar Rules from the Writer’s Digest editors, including a few examples of correct usages.

Maybe I’m just one of those guys who overthinks things (actually, I know that I am), but I often struggle with how to handle my email. Not the actual messages, mind you, though that I do struggle with that too. No, I’m referring to questioning the appropriate way to refer to my email in a plural sense.

(Email vs. E-mail.)

On one hand, I think I should handle it the same way I handle mail—except, you know, put an “e” in front of “mail.” Only, it’s not as simple as that, because we receive letters in the mail, but we don’t receive “e-letters.” Rather, we receive “email.” So how do we handle this tangled (inter)web that we weave?

Let’s take a quick look! The answer is actually pretty simple with a few options that work.

What is the plural form of email?

Email is the plural form of email, much like mail is the plural form of mail, when discussing email in a general sense. As in, I’ve got a lot of email. Very general, very correct, but…

Emails is the plural form of email when you get into specific numbers. As in, I’ve received 10 emails from him this morning. This is unlike the plural form of mail, since you wouldn’t say you received 10 mails since last week, though you might say you’ve received 10 letters (though probably more likely bills or advertisements).

Email messages also works as the plural form of email when you get into specific numbers. As in, I’ve received 10 email messages from her this morning. And…

Email messages also works as the plural form of email when used in a general sense. As in, I’ve got a lot of email messages. So while more wordy, maybe this is the “safest” way to roll when making email plural.

Make sense?

Let’s go through a few examples:

Correct: I often have to deal with a lot of email.
Incorrect: I often have to deal with a lot of emails.
Correct: I often have to deal with a lot of email messages.

Correct: I received seven emails from the new client.
Incorrect: I received seven email from the new client.
Correct: I received seven email messages from the new client.

For the sake of concision, many writers and editors may wish to alternate between the plural use of email in a general sense and a specific sense. But I won’t fault anyone who plays it safe by using the term email messages.

Learn more in the online course, Grammar and Mechanics, from Writer’s Digest University:

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There are no villains in memoir—unless you count yourself. Understand the ways in which you act as a character so you can tell your story as its writer.

When I began writing memoir, I was surprised to find how much these true stories needed to read like novels or short stories told in the first person. Just like fiction, there need to be scenes with action and dialogue. Settings have to be vividly rendered with concrete, physical details. There also has to be a clear storyline with an inciting action, rising conflict and a satisfying conclusion, complete with some meaningful change occurring within the protagonist.

What there cannot be, however, are villains. There are no villains in memoir.

To be clear, memoirs, like life, are often filled with characters doing villainous things. There are cheating spouses, alcoholic parents, schoolyard bullies and predatory priests. I worked with a client whose father murdered her mother, and another who escaped the thrall of a religious cult. The world is filled with people doing awful things to other people, and the ones who survive those awful things often want to tell their stories. Sometimes they must tell their stories just to make sense of their lives. Most of the stories we read or watch in books and movies have had villains. Surely our stories can as well.

Yet ours can’t, and to understand why, let’s look at a traditional fictional villain: the killer in a murder mystery. The hero in a mystery, whether a detective or an amateur sleuth, always answers two questions. First, they must find out whodunit. In a good mystery, there are always many suspects, and the majority of the story is spent watching the hero sift through clues until he or she has homed in on The One. Then comes the second, and more important question: Why? Why did the killer kill? What was their motivation?

In truth, no good mystery is merely a whodunit. It is always a “why did someone do it?” As terrible as murder may be, the mere fact that someone killed someone else is not all that compelling. Why someone killed someone else is. The killer’s motivation is what drives the entire story and what makes them a true villain. It is their motivation that gives purpose to their actions.

This is precisely why there are no villains in memoir. In real life, the only thing we know for sure is what we see and hear, and what we think and believe. When a memoirist depicts a scene in which something happens involving anyone besides him- or herself, no matter how joyous or violent, no matter how wanted or unwanted, the rules are always the same. The writer should always describe as vividly as possible what was said and done. If your father threw a whisky bottle at your head, show that bottle flying through the air and shattering against the wall. If he called you names, he should call you those names on the page. And if you thought He’s crazy and wants to kill me, let the reader know you thought that. Or, if you thought He hates me and has always hated me, let the reader know that too.

The line the author cannot cross, what the author cannot show, is what another person thought or what motivated another person. No matter how certain we might be that we know what someone is thinking, we are wrong. Thoughts come to us constantly like a river always flowing. Sometimes those thoughts even contradict themselves: She loves me; she wants to leave me. I want to stay here; I want to leave right now. A mind can change and change and change again. It’s hard enough to keep up with your own mind; it is impossible to follow another’s.

That said, it’s relatively easy to avoid falling into the trap of showing other people’s thoughts—the memoirist is writing in the first person, after all. It’s a little more complicated with motivation. We assign motivation to each other all the time. We say, “He doesn’t love me,” or, “She doesn’t care about anyone but herself,” or, “He has to be right all the time.” I usually do this to try to make sense of something that doesn’t make sense to me. I become a little like a detective, solving the mystery of why someone would do something that seems unkind, selfish or destructive. Though I’m a pretty intuitive guy and consider myself a good judge of other people, my answer never satisfies me completely. I always feel some missing piece, some other, conflicting motivation that makes that person as complicated and nuanced and whole as I.

Thus, while my character in a memoir might think My brother doesn’t really like me, I, as the author, can’t begin a story, My brother never really liked me. I don’t actually know that. All I know is that I felt like he didn’t like me, or that I decided he didn’t like me. The distinction may seem subtle, but it is actually the difference between telling my story and telling someone else’s story. As soon as I start assigning motivation, I’m telling another person’s story, and that is not mine to tell.

The challenge is that in fiction, the villain is often the source of the story’s problem. Without a killer, the hero would have no mystery to solve. Every story, whether true or fictional, must have conflicts, must have obstacles, and this is true of memoir as well. I just have to turn my attention inward to find that villain, that source of the problem.

I must become a kind of detective of my own life—specifically my own actions and motivations. Let’s say I am writing about a difficult, year-long relationship I had when I was 20. I know for a fact that I was never excited to be in the relationship, that on the first date with this young woman I sensed that, while she was perfectly nice and attractive and bright, we were not a great fit. Yet I entered into that relationship anyway, and for 12 months rode the rollercoaster of arguments and confusion and accusations and tears. I was rarely happy in this relationship, that is also a fact. I also couldn’t bring myself to end it. That’s another fact. It wasn’t until she confessed she was sleeping with someone else that I finally felt free to leave.

Those are the facts. I already know them. As a writer, I am always looking to discover something in the stories I tell. And so, the question I’d ask myself again and again as I told this story is Why?. Why did I go on a second and then third date? Why did I think it was good idea to move in together? Why did I stop writing as soon as we started dating? Why did I need her to cheat on me to end it? Just like a fictional detective, I am looking for motivation, except the motivation I am trying to understand is my own.

In this way, I am always the villain of my own story. I always write about my own suffering, discomfort, unhappiness and fear. The character named Bill Kenower on the page often blames the world for his problems. He blames his girlfriend’s unhappiness for his unhappiness, the publishing world for his rejections. Like many criminals, he always believes he’s innocent. It’s those other people who are guilty. If only they’d quit doing what they’re doing, he’d be fine.

Bill the Author knows better. He knows, first, that Bill the Character never wants to be afraid, depressed or angry. He knows the character always wants to be interested, happy and peaceful. That never, ever changes. Bill the Author also knows that Bill the Character has many mistaken ideas about how to get what he wants, about where happiness and love and peace can and can’t be found. He knows Bill the Character looks for what he wants where it isn’t, that he looks for it in sex, success, money, praise or drugs and alcohol.

Bill the Author doesn’t mind this because he loves a good story, and there’s nothing like the suffering those misguided journeys engender to give a story its meaning and energy. Bill the Character is a sympathetic protagonist. He’s looking for something we all want, isn’t he? He just wants to be happy, to be OK. Poor guy. If only he knew better. Fortunately, he doesn’t know better. If he did, there’d be no story to tell.

Unlike the villains in fiction, Bill the Character is always both guilty and innocent. He is guilty of believing something that isn’t true, of believing that he needs to stay in a relationship that doesn’t engage him, that he should stop writing because his girlfriend needs all of his attention, that good sex is enough of a reason to hang around with someone. He’s guilty of all these crimes of misunderstanding, and his sentence of suffering will last exactly as long as he continues to believe them.

To write a memoir in this way requires the author to take complete responsibility for their lives. I do not mean I am taking responsibility for everything that happens. I have very little, if any, control over what other people do, let alone the weather or stock market. But I do have control over how I respond to what happens, including what I think and believe about the world around me. I have known no greater pain than when I have thought I’m a failure, or I’m a loser or I’m lost. When I think I’m a loser, it’s like telling myself a story I would never want to hear. That the story is untrue doesn’t matter. As a writer, I’m great at believing stories that aren’t technically true. To write about dragons flying through magical kingdoms, I have to see and believe in those dragons in my imagination. I have to see them as clearly as the houses outside my window. If I can believe in those dragons, believing I’m a loser is easy.

The memoirist must retell a story. Our past is laden with lies we’ve told ourselves, lies about how we weren’t good enough, how someone never loved us or how the world is cruel and unfair. We tell the story, the lie, again and again and again like a campfire myth with no good ending. All we are left with at the end of these stories is our own formless suffering. The memoirist is drawn back to these old stories to tell them correctly, to find that moment when the untrue story began in our frightened or angry hearts.

Am I always taking complete responsibility for my life when I’m not writing? Sadly, I am often not. I forget the lessons writing taught me. I forget that every single time I think I’m doomed or She doesn’t care about me, I’ll feel miserable or irritated as surely as fire burns paper. The good news is that all the untrue things I believe now become stories I can tell later. Someday, maybe soon, maybe in 10 years, I’ll be rummaging through my memory for a story, and there it will be, that pinprick of discomfort as I recall what was said and done once upon a time. I can’t remember exactly why I was unhappy, but I know I was, and so I don my detective’s cap, pull up to my desk, and go looking for the villain of a lie so I can be free again.

For more about memoir writing, check out this guest post by Karen Stefano about writing traumatic events.

Have personal experiences you want to share? WD University’s Writing the Personal Essay 101: Fundamentals will teach you how to avoid the dreaded responses of “so what?” and “I guess you had to be there” by utilizing sensory details, learn to trust your writing intuitions, and develop a skilled internal editor to help with revision. Register today!

The post Your Own Worst Enemy: Writing Villains in Memoir by William Kenower appeared first on Writer's Digest.

Before we get too far down the rabbit hole this week, I just want to make one thing perfectly clear: There is only one way to spell cancel, and that’s with one “l.” However, using cancel in the past tense gets a bit more complicated…mainly by geography.

(How to Map Your Fantasy World.)

Beyond that, let’s define the word cancel, which is a verb that can mean a few things. Cancel can mean to destroy or offset the force or validity of something else. Another meaning for cancel is to call off an event without the expectation of rescheduling. It’s also used in mathematics to remove equal parts on both sides of an equation. But again, how you cancel something in the past tense is different depending upon where you do it.

So break out your maps! We’re going to need them where we’re going.

Canceled vs. Cancelled

Canceled is the preferred spelling of the past tense of cancel in the United States.

Cancelled is the preferred spelling of the past tense of cancel everywhere else. Okay, so maybe you don’t need a map to know whether you’re in the United States or somewhere else.

Make sense?

Let’s go through a few examples:

Correct in the United States: With a line of severe thunderstorms in the area, he canceled the soccer match.
Incorrect everywhere else: With a line of severe thunderstorms in the area, he canceled the soccer match.

Correct everywhere else: She cancelled the play after failing to sell any advance tickets.
Incorrect in the United States: She cancelled the play after failing to sell any advance tickets.

In case you’re wondering, canceling and cancelling run along the same rules with the United States preferring one l and everywhere else two l’s. But, of course, English is funny, because the word cancellation uses two l’s regardless of where you’re using it, kind of like the one l used for cancel.

So maybe all these one and two l variants cancel each other out. Regardless, one way to remember which version to use is this: Places that refer to that one black and white ball game as soccer prefer to use one l, while the places that refer to it as football prefer to use two l’s.

Learn more in the online course, Grammar and Mechanics, from Writer’s Digest University:

The post Canceled vs. Cancelled (Grammar Rules) by Robert Lee Brewer appeared first on Writer's Digest.

Learn when to use awhile vs. a while with Grammar Rules from the Writer’s Digest editors, including a few examples of correct usages.

I’ve been meaning to write this post for a while, because the difference between awhile and a while has plagued me for years. After spending a while looking into their meanings and usages, I think I’ve got it down.

(The Difference Between Allude vs. Elude.)

In a while, you may have it locked down too!

Awhile vs. A While

Awhile is an adverb that means “for a while.” The obvious question, what does “a while” mean?

The while in a while is a noun that means “a period of time.”  If you can swap out a while with a period of time, then you’re likely dealing with the noun while.

Make sense?

Let’s go through a few examples:

Correct: He drank awhile after running five miles.
Incorrect: He drank a while after running five miles.

Correct: The best way to find the answer is to think for a while about the problem.
Incorrect: The best way to find the answer is to think for awhile about the problem.

Correct: You said you would sing awhile a while ago.
Incorrect: You said you would sing a while awhile ago.

One trick for keeping them straight is to remember awhile is an adverb and while is a noun. If we think awhile about their differences, then it shouldn’t take more than a while to figure out when to use which.

Learn more in the online course, Grammar and Mechanics, from Writer’s Digest University:

The post Awhile vs. A While (Grammar Rules) by Robert Lee Brewer appeared first on Writer's Digest.