Sometimes You Need Dialogue Tags And Don't Want To Use The Same Four

Alright.

Instead of whispered, consider:

murmured

mumbled

muttered

breathed

sighed

hissed

mouthed

uttered

intoned

susurrated

purred

said in an undertone

gasped

hinted

said low

said into someone’s ear

said softly

said under one’s breath

said in hushed tones

insinuated

Scott Pilgrim is, I think, the best example I can think of for establishing a setting's Nonsense Limit. The setting's Nonsense Limit isn't quite "How high-fantasy is this". It's mostly a question of presentation, to what degree does the audience feel that they know the rules the world operates by, such that they are primed to accept a random new element being introduced. A setting with a Nonsense Limit of 0 is, like, an everyday story. Something larger than life, but theoretically taking place in our world, like your standard spy thriller action movie has a limit of 1. Some sort of hidden world urban fantasy with wizards and stuff operating in secret has a nonsense limit around 3 or 4. A Superhero setting, presenting an alternate version of our world, is a 5 or 6. High fantasy comes in around a 7 or so, "Oh yeah, Wizards exist and they can do crazy stuff" is pretty commonly accepted. Scott Pilgrim comes in at a 10. If you read the Scott Pilgrim book, it starts off looking like a purely mundane slice of life. The first hint at the fantastical is Ramona appearing repeatedly in Scott's Dreams, and then later showing up in real life. When we finally get an explanation, it's this:

Apparently Subspace Highways are a thing? And they go through people's heads? And Ramona treats this like it's obscure, but not secret knowledge. Ramona doesn't think she's doing anything weird here. At this point, it's not clear if Scott is accepting Ramona's explanation or not, things kind of move on as mundane as ever until their Date, when Ramona takes Scott through subspace, and he doesn't act like his world was just blown open or anything, although I guess that could have been a metaphor. there's a couple other moments, but everything with Ramona could be a metaphor, or Scott not recognizing what's going on. Maybe Ramona is uniquely fantastical in this otherwise normal world. And then, this happens

Suddenly, a fantastical element (A shitty local indie band finishing their set with a song that knocks out most of the audience) is introduced unrelated to Ramona, and undeniably literal. We see the crowd knocked out by Crash and The Boys. but the story doesn't linger on the implications of that, the whole point of that sequence is to raise the Nonsense Level, such that you accept it when This happens

Matthew Patel comes flying down onto the stage, Scott, who until this point is presented as a terrible person and a loser, but otherwise is extremely ordinary, proceeds to flawlessly block and counter him before doing a 64-hit air juggle combo. Scott's friends treat this like Scott is showing off a mildly interesting party trick, like being really good at darts. The establish that Scott is the "Best Fighter in the Province", not only are street-fighter battles a thing, Scott is Very Good at it, but they're so unimportant that being the best fighter in the province doesn't make Scott NOT a loser. So when Matthew Patel shows off his magic powers and then explodes into a pile of coins, we've established "Oh, this is how silly the setting gets". It's not about establishing the RULES of the setting so much as it is about establishing a lack of rules. Scott's skill at street-fighter battles doesn't translate to any sort of social prestige. Ramona can access Subspace Highways and she uses it to do a basic delivery job. It doesn't make sense and it's clear that it's not supposed to. So later on, when Todd Ingram starts throwing around telekinesis, and the explanation we're given is "He's a Vegan" , you're already so primed by the mixture of weirdness and mundanity that rather than trying to incorporate this new knowledge into any sort of coherent setting ruleset, you just go "Ah, yeah, Vegans".

I've had this little idea in my head for a while now, so I decided to sit down and plot it out.

Disclaimer: This isn't meant to be some sort of One-Worksheet-Fits-All situation. This is meant to be a visual representation of some type of story planning you could be doing in order to develop a plot!

Lay down groundwork! (Backstory integral to the beginning of your story.) Build hinges. (Events that hinge on other events and fall down like dominoes) Suspend structures. (Withhold just enough information to make the reader curious, and keep them guessing.)

And hey, is this helps... maybe sit down and write a story! :)

Why the Protagonist Must Be a Problem-solver

In some ways, this post's topic sounds obvious, in others . . . not so much. On the surface, the tip seems simple, and yet, it is easily and often overlooked.

Your protagonist must be a problem-solver.

Yup. 

A problem-solver.

I don't care if she's the laziest, most passive, most dimwitted person on the planet, within the context of the plot, she must be a problem-solver (even if a reluctant one).

Otherwise, she'll feel like a weak character.

Otherwise, the plot will feel weak.

Of course, I'm sure you can find rare exceptions to this.

But 99% of the time, your protagonist needs to be a problem-solver.

So let's talk about why.

Why it's Important for The Character

Imagine a protagonist who doesn't problem-solve. She encounters the antagonist, reacts emotionally, but doesn't do anything to try to win the conflict, or at least gain the upper hand of the conflict. She won't be interesting for very long. It's hard to care about what happens to her, when she's putting no effort in to resolve it, when she doesn't care enough to try to fix it herself. It may start to feel like she's stuck in a loop--just circling the same internal responses over and over again, never really progressing, never really moving on.

Sometimes writers mistakenly think this makes her more sympathetic, but in reality, as counterintuitive as it may sound, the opposite is true. Audiences lose interest or become annoyed.

We've all met people who talk, and whine, and fume about their problems but don't do anything to better their situation. We may feel sorry for them at first, but eventually, we want them to take action to improve their predicament. Often we may even find ourselves giving advice (or in some cases, doing the problem-solving work for them).

We feel the same way about characters.

Your protagonist doesn't need to be the next Sherlock Holmes or Violet Baudelaire to be a "problem-solver."

At the most basic level, what this means is that when she encounters an antagonistic force (a problem), she's coming up with--or perhaps shifting--goals and plans (however big or small, or grand or modest), and taking action to try to make those a reality.

If she's not doing that, she's probably too passive in the plot and not exercising enough agency. The story is happening to her, but she's not doing anything to make the story happen. She's not influencing the direction of the story.

When the protagonist is the one coming up with goals and plans, and implementing them, the audience becomes more invested in her. They want to stick around to see if she's successful. She also now holds some accountability over what happens--the consequences--and that actually makes her more interesting and more sympathetic. What happens, good or bad, is on her. She holds responsibility. 

If your protagonist isn't problem-solving, it may be a sign that her wants aren't strong enough. Solid stories will showcase the protagonist's deepest desires (however big or small, or grand or modest), what she would sacrifice almost anything to obtain, avoid, or maintain. If the right desire is in jeopardy, the protagonist should naturally be driven to problem-solve. Characters with strong wants are more compelling. And in reality, we all have powerful wants we house deep within our hearts. 

Great stories will test and challenge the deep desires of the protagonist's heart. And if that's not happening, you likely haven't figured out your protagonist's deepest desires or you need to alter the character so that she desires what she desires more deeply. Don't settle on something she kinda wants. Find what she'd be tempted to sacrifice her life for--literally or figuratively (meaning her current lifestyle). What does she want to obtain, avoid, or maintain bad enough, that she'd consider doing things she wouldn't ordinarily do? That's the kind of want you should showcase--whether it be obtaining recognition as employee of the month, avoiding responsibility by taking on a new identity, or maintaining control by offing all rebels.

It's usually helpful to focus on an abstract want--obtain recognition, avoid responsibility, maintain control--that can then manifest into various concrete goals. Most people aren't going to give their "lives" to become "employee of the month," but many have gone to such lengths to obtain recognition; becoming employee of the month is just one way to obtain that. So even if the goal seems modest on the surface, tie it to a deep abstract want. (A bit of a tangent, but it's useful, so I left it in here 😉)

When the protagonist is problem-solving, it conveys to the audience what she cares about. If the rebels are increasing in power, and she doesn't do anything about it, then obviously she doesn't really care about being in control very much. That's not a deep desire of her heart. So we need the protagonist to problem-solve to help convey character.

And finally, if she's not struggling to overcome (problem-solving), she's probably not growing through a character arc. She's stagnant. She's not changing her worldview as she strives for success, nor is she wielding her beliefs, growing in resolve. This can make any attempt at an internal plotline feel repetitive or nonexistent, because the character isn't progressing on an internal journey. She's just stuck in the same spot.

Why It's Important for the Plot

Solid stories will showcase the protagonist's deepest desires, and even if those desires are abstract (obtain recognition, avoid responsibility, maintain control), if the character wants them bad enough, they will manifest into concrete goals (employee of the month, new identity, off the rebels) that have specific plans (show up on time to work, move to a new city, locate the rebels' base).

So the protagonist has a goal. The antagonist opposes the goal.

And since there should be an antagonist for nearly every scene, this means there are problems in nearly every scene.

If the protagonist isn't trying to solve those problems, by adjusting his goals and plans, then it's likely the plot isn't properly progressing. Like I mentioned with the internal journey above, the external journey probably feels repetitive, or in some ways nonexistent. It's just circling the same situation over and over, in the toilet bowl.

If you find yourself arguing against this, then it's likely because another character is the one doing most of the problem-solving, in which case, it's also highly likely that character is the true protagonist, and your "protagonist" is really more of a viewpoint character spectating the external plotline.

The plot needs conflict in order to progress properly. If the antagonist shows up, and the protagonist allows himself to just get beaten, it's not strong conflict. Sure, stuff is happening, but if the antagonist is hammering him to the ground without his resistance, it's not much of a conflict. It's passive victimization. And while that might work in a scene or two, it's not going to hold for a whole story, or even a whole act.

A passive victim isn't a problem-solving protagonist. Obviously.

So, suffice it to say, your protagonist needs to be a problem-solver.

Quick editing tip: Passing time

Hey all, here’s a quick tip about showing the passage of short amounts of time in a scene. I see a lot of beats like this:

She hesitated

He paused

A few seconds later

There was a long silence

He waited for her to answer

She didn’t respond

Instead of telling us there’s a brief moment of silence or pause in your scene, try showing us by creating the feeling that time has passed through action, description, or inner monologue. Here are a few examples.

Before:

“Are you coming or not?”

He waited for her to answer, but she didn’t respond.

“Clare? Did you hear me?”

“Huh?”

After:

“Are you coming or not?”

Clare scrolled through her phone, her face illuminating with a eerie blue glow.

“Clare? Did you hear me?”

“Huh?”

Before:

Jared lingered at the suspect’s front gate. If this guy didn’t answer Jared’s questions, he was screwed.

“Hey you!” a voice shouted. “Get off my property!”

Jared hesitated. Finally, he turned to face the man. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

After:

Jared lingered at the suspect’s front gate. If this guy didn’t answer Jared’s questions, he was screwed.

“Hey you!” a voice shouted. “Get off my property!”

Jared patted his holster. He had a gun, but he certainly didn’t want to use it. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face the man. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

Not only does creating a pause instead of describing a pause allow your reader to feel the moment more vividly, it gives you a chance to explain what exactly that pause is about. People hesitate, pause, don’t respond, etc. for all kinds of reasons. Give us as much insight as you can into your weird quiet moment.

Of course, you don’t need to do this every single time. Sometimes it’s fine to say “he paused” or “the room was quiet for a moment”—it could be the best choice for that scene. But look back through your draft and see if you’ve used those “telling” descriptions more often than you needed to. If so, try to create the feeling of a pause—perhaps one that gives the reader a bit more information—using these techniques.

Hope this helps!

How to Make Your Characters Almost Cry

Tears are powerful, but do you know what's more impactful? The struggle to hold them back. This post is for all your hard-hearted stoic characters who'd never shed a tear before another, and aims to help you make them breakdown realistically.

The Physical Signs of Holding Back Tears

Heavy Eyelids, Heavy Heart Your character's eyelids feel weighted, as if the tears themselves are dragging them down. Their vision blurs—not quite enough to spill over, but enough to remind them of the dam threatening to break.

The Involuntary Sniffle They sniffle, not because their nose is running, but because their body is desperately trying to regulate itself, to suppress the wave of emotion threatening to take over.

Burning Eyes Their eyes sting from the effort of restraint, from the battle between pride and vulnerability. If they try too hard to hold back, the whites of their eyes start turning red, a telltale sign of the tears they've refused to let go.

The Trembling Lips Like a child struggling not to cry, their lips quiver. The shame of it fuels their determination to stay composed, leading them to clench their fists, grip their sleeves, or dig their nails into the nearest surface—anything to regain control.

The Fear of Blinking Closing their eyes means surrender. The second their lashes meet, the memories, the pain, the heartbreak will surge forward, and the tears will follow. So they force themselves to keep staring—at the floor, at a blank wall, at anything that won’t remind them of why they’re breaking.

The Coping Mechanisms: Pretending It’s Fine

A Steady Gaze & A Deep Breath To mask the turmoil, they focus on a neutral object, inhale slowly, and steel themselves. If they can get through this one breath, they can get through the next.

Turning Away to Swipe at Their Eyes When they do need to wipe their eyes, they do it quickly, casually, as if brushing off a speck of dust rather than wiping away the proof of their emotions.

Masking the Pain with a Different Emotion Anger, sarcasm, even laughter—any strong emotion can serve as a shield. A snappy response, a bitter chuckle, a sharp inhale—each is a carefully chosen defence against vulnerability.

Why This Matters

Letting your character fight their tears instead of immediately breaking down makes the scene hit harder. It shows their internal struggle, their resistance, and their need to stay composed even when they’re crumbling.

This is written based off of personal experience as someone who goes through this cycle a lot (emotional vulnerability who?) and some inspo from other books/articles

More favourite numerical memes:

Implicit or implicit enumeration of uncountable things (example: taking inventory of the fucks which one gives)

Suggesting the divisibility of things which are not customarily thought of as able to be subdivided (example: "six whole people")

Using words that aren't numbers as numbers (example: "one William dollars")

Technically correct but contextually misleading estimates (example: looking at a group of several thousand things and observing that there are "at least three")

Incongruous qualifiers for apparently simple sums or tallies (example: she was twenty-seven years old, not counting 2014)

teach me?? how to draw?? the action of kissing????

Step 1. yearn

how to write creepy stories

over describe things

under describe things

short sentences in rapid succession build tension

single sentence paragraphs build dread

uncanny valley = things that aren't normal almost getting it right

third person limited view

limited expressions

rot, mold, damage, age, static, flickering, espsecially in places it shouldn't be

limited sights for your mc - blindness, darkness, fog

being alone - the more people there are, the less scary it is

intimate knowledge, but only on one side

your reader's imagination will scare them more than anything you could ever write. you don't have to offer a perfectly concrete explanation for everything at the end. in fact, doing so may detract from your story.

Hello! Tips on drafting and how much detail is too much?

Let’s see, my main tips would be to treat the first draft as if you’re telling yourself the story, the second draft like you’re organizing and enhancing the story, and the third draft as if you’re preparing for your best friend to read the story. I think this is a pretty good gauge for how much detail you add to the narrative each time you reread and edit. And it’s not about how much detail there is, it’s about how effective it is at making the story clear and immersive. 

Here’s some resources that might help. There’s also an entire category in my masterlist dedicated to the drafting process. 

Using Vocabulary

Describing Where Your Characters Are

Writing Intense Scenes

Writing The First Chapter

Balancing Detail & Development

When To Use “Felt”

Showing Vs Telling

How To Better Your Vocabulary & Description

Powering Through The Zero-Draft Phase

Getting Words on The Page

Sticking To A Story (Working on Multiple Projects)

Writing Your Way Through The Plot Fog

I hope this advice and these resources are helpful, and if you have any other questions feel free to leave them here :)

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