STRUCTURING YOUR STORY – PART 1

It Only Happens in Fanfic

Fanfic differs from regular fiction in a key area. In fanfic, we already know the characters’ full names, the way they look, where they live, their jobs, and so on. We’re fans, so this world is familiar to us.

Unless it’s essential – and it rarely is – try to avoid using the characters’ full names and other well-known features too frequently. When used excessively, it will slow down the narrative, and it can become annoying for readers.

Example:

What not to do:

Assistant District Attorney Joe Maxwell looked up from the report he was reading at his desk in his office. Attorney Catherine Chandler stood in the doorway to his office, with their boss District Attorney John Moreno right behind her. 

What to do instead: 

Joe looked up from the report. Catherine was standing in the doorway, with Moreno right behind her.

The Name Game

When there are only two people having a conversation, they really don’t need to constantly repeat each other’s names. We all love to hear Vincent say “Catherine,” but five times on one page is a bit much. You don’t want people to giggle while reading your story unless the humor is intentional.

If a character goes by multiple names (e.g., John Pater/Paracelsus), it’s generally a good idea to choose one and stick with it at least for the duration of a scene or for a specific purpose.

For example, Father is also called Jacob, Jacob Wells, Dr. Jacob Wells, and even The Old Man, although that one is only used by Devin. For this character, the usual choice is Father, but there are times when one of his other names is more appropriate. Peter Alcott would call him Jacob, as Mary might under various circumstances. Switching names is fine in cases like this because we already know all the names apply to the same character.

However, if in one scene Peter calls him Jacob, then Father, then back to Jacob, it makes the writer look indecisive and/or inattentive to detail.

Talking Heads – Amazing as a Band, Not So Much as a Writing Technique

Keep your dialogue sequential, pertinent to the story, and clear as to who is speaking. When the conversation is lengthy and/or more than two people are involved, you do need to identify the speakers from time to time to avoid confusion

Few readers are willing to re-read passages like the one below just to figure out who is saying what.

“Did you hear that?”

“I did! What do you guys think it was?”

“I’m not sure. But we should investigate.”

“Wait! Let’s listen for a message on the pipes.”

“I’ll start near Father’s study!”

“We’ll check the kitchen!”

“I’m afraid!”

“Everything will be all right. The rest of us will wait here.”

Clearly, there are at least three characters present, but even if we already know which ones are in the scene, it’s impossible to know who is speaking each line of dialogue. Including a proper name now and then, along with a bit of descriptive narrative, makes all the difference.

Catherine stared at the entrance to the children’s chamber. “Did you hear that?”

“I did!” Eric’s voice quivered. “What do you guys think it was?”

 “I’m not sure.” Vincent rose from his chair and set down the storybook. “But we should investigate.”

“Wait!” Brooke shouted. “Let’s listen for a message on the pipes!”

Ignoring her advice, Kipper ran toward the passageway. “I’ll start near Father’s study!”

Samantha and Geoffrey pushed past him. “We’ll check the kitchen!”

“I’m afraid!” Little Daisy burst into tears and threw herself on Brooke’s lap. 

“Everything will be all right,” she murmured to the sobbing child. “The rest of us will wait here.”

With just a few simple additions, the dialogue now clearly indicates who is speaking, where the scene is taking place, how the characters are feeling, and what they will do next.

Opening With A Bang

Catherine slammed the drawer of the filing cabinet and stomped across the office. She slapped an overflowing file folder onto her desk and tried not to scream. When Joe returned to the office, they would have a long overdue discussion. He just might be lucky enough to duck when she threw a coffee cup at him. 

Clearly, that’s not what “opening with a bang” means. It’s just a metaphor for starting your story with action that quickly captures your reader’s attention. It actually could be a loud noise, among many other choices, such as an unexpected event, a surprising reaction from a known character, intriguing behavior or a comment from an as yet unidentified protagonist, and so much more.

Here’s a better example that opens with a bang – just not a sound effect.

How could he have let Moreno fire Edie! Catherine glared at the clock, willing the hands to tick faster. The minute Joe returned from lunch, there would be hell to pay.

TMI – And It’s All on Page One

No reader wants to be fed all the pertinent info about your main character or the premise of your story as soon as they open the book. Readers want to be intrigued, to be surprised, to figure things out on their own. They don’t want to be lectured.

Look at this extreme example of what not to do.

Petite, brunette, middle-aged Sabrina Warren, who held an advanced degree in bioengineering from MIT (class of ‘99), had lived for the last 16.5 years in a small New England town with her six-foot-tall, freckled, balding husband, Jonathan, an editor for the local newspaper. They had three young children, Willie 6, Millie 8, and Billie 10 ½, all of whom had perfect teeth, were intellectually gifted, and destined for greatness in the arts, sports, and STEM. Their basset hound Droopy had unfortunately passed away recently after a long and happy life spent romping in the apple orchards behind their house.

In her spare time, Sabrina enjoyed translating ancient Sumerian texts, competing in amateur boxing tournaments, and crocheting shawls for the local elderly population, when not driving Willie, Millie, and Billie to ballet class, football practice, and Future Astronauts of America meetings. She also grew organic kale, heirloom tomatoes, and Swiss chard in the backyard garden, while keeping an eye on the new neighbors who just might be setting up a meth lab in their basement 

Jonathan, while also a successful semi-pro golfer, was a gambling addict who had already worked his way through most of the children’s college fund. Recently Sabrina had discovered certain things in his browser history that indicated he might be lying again, which was unfortunate since he’d already completed a twelve step program at Liars R Us. She put “hire a private investigator” on her to-do list, but in the meantime, a bottle of wine at dinner every night couldn’t hurt.

On this bright autumn Thursday morning, Sabrina had intended to interview house painters to redo their two-story, twelve room, Contemporary Colonial house with wrap-around front porch and saltwater pool. However, a spaceship with the words “Visit Neptune!” emblazoned in scarlet on its bright silver surface had landed in the driveway not long after her husband and children had left for the day. How could anyone resist?

Yes, this is a complete exaggeration, but similar things do happen. There is a way, however, to salvage even this mess.

Why not start your story with a bit of info from the last paragraph, then give out snippets of additional info at the appropriate moments as the story progresses?

You could say:

Sabrina gazed back at Earth from her window seat in the first-class section of a spaceship zooming its way toward Neptune. She could just about make out the infinitesimal dot that might be her family home. “Oh well,” she murmured, nestling into her lizard-skin recliner. “I guess I won’t be interviewing house painters today!”

The Curse of the Never-Ending Paragraph

Three to six sentences should be enough for most paragraphs. Of course, there are always exceptions, but when structuring paragraphs, it is important to learn, understand, and use the standard rules correctly before you can successfully get away with breaking them.

Be aware of the places where your story changes in mood, tone, pace, point of view, or focus. Those changes often mark the place where a paragraph ends and a new one begins. At times, it’s obvious. For example, whenever a different character speaks, it should be in a new paragraph.

Sometimes it’s difficult to determine if you need a new paragraph. To help decide, try reading your story aloud. Listen for natural breaks. As you practice, you’ll become proficient at identifying the appropriate points to turn large paragraphs into smaller ones. This will enhance the tempo and flow of your story, and it will make the text visually more appealing for the reader.

Be sure to think very carefully about the structure of your opening paragraphs. If they have way too many sentences, the reader might be less than enthusiastic about even starting to read your story. And, yes, sometimes it’s painful to cut words and phrases you love, but stay strong and do it anyway. You can always save them for a more appropriate place in another story.

Subjects and Verbs Don’t Have to Be Besties, But They Should Agree

Don’t ignore all the grammar rules you were forced to learn in elementary school. Unlike algebra, you really can – and should – use them after graduation!

Just remember that singular subjects always hang out with singular verbs. It’s the same for their plural counterparts – plural subjects love those plural verbs.

If an event is happening in the present, the verbs used should be in the present tense. If the event has already happened, then the needed verbs are in past tense form.

If you ignore these simple rules, you might end up writing something like this (but please don’t):

Catherine opens the balcony door and grabbing Vincent through it.  Why did he always insisted on staying out there, always hid in the shadows?  She was start to suspecting he resists her efforts to get him into her apartment because he feared intimacy. She knows she had to doing something about that situation that soon.

No, really, please don’t!

Take One Gerund and Call Me in the Next Chapter

When used properly, a gerund can be highly effective in establishing mood, pacing, and tempo, as well as showing a character’s actions or feelings. But when used inappropriately or too often, gerunds can seriously detract from your writing, making it sound trite, repetitive, and, well, just poorly crafted.

So, what is a gerund? It’s a verb ending in -ing that is used as a noun to express ongoing or unfinished action. For example: Sighing softly, Father reached for a book.

In this example, it is important to note that those two actions actually can occur simultaneously. He can sigh and reach at the same time. Far too often, writers use gerunds to show actions that are physically impossible to do all at once. Pouring a cup of tea, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, Father flipped the pages of his book. Unless he managed to grow a third arm, that’s not going to happen.

Another factor to be watchful for is beginning too many consecutive sentences with gerunds. You’ve all seen books like this, where you find yourself counting them instead of reading the story. You don’t want your work to inspire a drinking game!

Another gerund-using misstep to avoid is using the wrong tense in combination with other verbs in the sentence. Remember those BFFs want to stay together!

No matter what, gerund misuse is one of those intrusive things that eventually will pull your reader right out of their enjoyment of your story. However, this problem is easy to correct if you are mindful of potential errors and you are willing to work hard to find a better way to express what you want to say.

Now, have some fun with the example below. It contains a multitude of gerund-related sins: overuse, incorrect subject/verb agreement, physical impossibility, and the type of unintentional humor no writer wants to include in their stories.

Rising to his feet, closing his journal, blowing out a candle, pulling on his boots, making sure his gloves are in his pocket, Vincent reached for his cloak. and hurries from his chamber. Feeling Catherine’s emotions calling to him urgently through their bond, racing along the rocky corridor toward the tunnel entrance leading to the park, sensing she is not in danger, he still hurries to meet her, panting heavily. 

Opening the metal gate, running into the park, feeling the chilly autumn wind brush his face, wondering what time it was, hoping William would save him a piece of meatloaf since he’d be missing dinner, remembering he’d forgotten to tell Father he was going out, deciding the old man could take a hike, he sighed.  

Hearing Catherine’s rapid footsteps as she ran to him, he lopes forward, tripping on a pile of wet leaves, getting up, brushing off his pants, wiping leaf slime on his jeans. Gathering her to his chest, he cradled her body to his, longing to express his desires. Looking down at her upturned face, nestling his head against hers, gazing into her eyes, pressing his lips to the silky strands of her hair, getting whiplash, he whispered her name, asking a question haunting him. 

“Catherine, what exactly is a gerund?”

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This workshop was originally written by Linda S Barth and Jessie Gurner for a presentation at the BatB Con in Orlando, Florida, July 1999. It was revised by Linda SB and Teri Peppe for the BatB con in Mackinaw City, Michigan, July 2019. This is the final, extensive revision and updating done by Linda SB, April 2025, for the workshop series on CABB – New Chambers.

For additional helpful hints and information on writing, be sure to look for our other workshops on CABB – NC!