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writing techniques that will create an outstanding story

Use multiple senses:

With each experience, enjoy more than just the views. By describing sounds, smells, tastes, and sensations, you immerse readers in the world of your story. The next scene from Saladin Ahmed's "Hooves and the Hovel of Abdel Jameela" does a wonderful job of drawing the reader into the story with other senses than sight. Your voice is more beautiful than any woman. And there is the powerful scent of jasmine and carnation. A nightingale sings perfumed words to me as my mind's eye burns with terror that would make the Almighty turn away. If fear does not shut up, you would ask me what I am. Men have called my people by many names: ghoul, demon. Is it such an important word? What I am, the scholar is Abdel Jameela's wife. I do not speak for long moments. If I don't speak, this nightmare ends. I will wake up in Baghdad or Beit Zujaaj. But I don't wake up. He speaks again and I cover my ears even though the sound itself is beautiful. The words you hear do not come out of my mouth, nor do you hear them with your ears. I ask that you listen with your mind and heart. We will die, my husband and I, if you don't lend us your skills. Have you learned that you never have to be anything other than what you are? The smell of cinnamon and the sound of an oasis wind come towards me.




create more complex characters:

Readers want characters they sympathize with (Harry Potter) or insult (Tywin Lannister), or both. They want to meet the characters and learn more about their experiences in the story. In the following excerpt from "The Children of the Shark God", Peter S. Beagle quickly introduces us to the protagonist, but in a way that he interests us about what happens to her. Miralis's parents had already grown old when they were born and had long since given up hope of having a child; her name actually meant "the long-awaited one." Her father had been crippled when his ship's mast broke in a storm and his leg broke and fell on him, and had it not been for her daughter, the old couple's life would have been really hard. Mirali couldn't go out with the fishing fleet, of course, as he would like, having loved the sea from his earliest memory, but he did all kinds of work for a variety of island families, whether at home. cleaning, marketing, caring for young children or even helping the midwife if the delivery was difficult or if too many babies were arriving at the same time. She was known as a seamstress and cook for special celebrations; There was also no one who could repair a pandanus leaf roof as quickly as she could, although this is generally men's work. No raindrop ever penetrated the roof of a pandanus that fell under Mirali's hands. Sheshe Neither did she complain about her work, because she took pride in caring for her mother and her father as she would have a son. Because of this, she was highly admired and respected in the village, and the young men courted her as if she were a great beauty. Which she wasn't, as she was small and a little angular, with straight eyebrows, which most found unhappy, and hips that didn't promise a big family. But she had kind eyes, deep under those unfortunate brows, and hair as thick and black as any woman on the island. Many really envied her; but Mirali didn't know anything about it. She herself had no time for envy, not even for the young. As authors, we have to give readers an idea of ​​what drives our protagonists. What motivates you What are your aspirations? In this passage we learn that while Mirali is not conventionally beautiful, she is a kind soul who works hard for her parents and is valued by her community. And the key? We quickly start investing in what happens to you.




implement strong emotions:

In this scene from Gillian Philip's Frost Child, the reader needs a moment to realize what the witch girl is feeding her newly tamed water horse, and this moment lets the strong emotions of horror set in. "It's very beautiful," I smiled. "Make sure he's completely tame before taking him near the fortress.""Of course I will. Thanks, Griogair!" He bent his head toward the kelpie, singing, reaching for his bag and pulling out a small piece of meat, the creature turning its head to carefully remove it from his hand, swallowing it before taking its second victim. He stroked him as he fed him, stroking his cheekbones, his neck, his gills. I don't know why the first chill of cold certainty ran through my skin; perhaps it was her satisfaction, the total disappearance of her pain; perhaps it was the realization that she and her little bow had risen to become a bigger game. The chunks of meat that she fed him had been ripped from something much larger than a dove, and as the kelpie tingled and pulled its upper lip back to sniff out more treats, I saw tiny threads of cloth stuck to the canines of she. By revealing a previously unknown detail that will help readers understand the implications, the author makes them shudder and shudder, wondering what happens next. Of course, we have many emotional arrows in our writing tremors: humor, love, determination, anger, etc. These strong emotions keep the reader engrossed in the story and curious about the future of the character.


attract the reader to the action:

Of course, engaging characters and engaging dialogue are important, but writing engaging action scenes is a skill in itself. Jim Butcher has mastered this ability, as this excerpt from "Even Hand" shows: The creatures of Fomor exploded in a storm of furious roars in the hallway. I couldn't see many details. They appeared to have been assembled on the chassis of a gorilla. Their heads were crushed, ugly things with open mouths and shark teeth. The sounds they made were deep, with a frenzied edge of madness, and they piled into the corridor in a wave of massive muscle. “Steady,” I murmured. The creatures lurched as they moved, like cheap toys that had not been assembled properly, but they were fast, for all of that. More and more of them flooded into the hallway, and their charge was gaining mass and momentum. “Steady,” I murmured. Hendricks grunted. There were no words in him, but he said I know. The wave of Fomorian came close enough that he could see the mold spots clumping together his fur and the tendrils of powdery mildew growing on his bare skin. "Fire," I said. Hendricks and I opened. The Army's new AA12 automatic shotguns are not the hunting rifles I first encountered in my patriotically delusional youth. They are fully automatic pistols with big round drums, more like the old Tommy pistols that my commercial Chicago predecessors made iconic. He pulls the trigger and one grenade after another goes through the weapon. A steel target hit by an AA12 can very quickly resemble a screen door. And we had two of them. The carnage was indescribable. She swept the hallway like a large broom, ripped and shredded meat, splattered the walls with blood, and painted them almost to the ceiling. Behind me was Gard with a large-caliber big game rifle, calmly taking down any creature that didn't want to die before he could reach our point of defense. We stacked the bodies so low that the bodies formed a barrier for our weapons.

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