Young-in-Craft Fiction Writers: Part 1

In Today’s Journal

* Young-in-Craft Fiction Writers: Part 1
* Of Interest
* The Numbers

Wow, this is hard. What I want to say about Stage 1 writers alone will take up at least two posts. But I said I’d do this series, so I’m gonna do it. I hope it helps you see where you are and what you need to do to improve in your craft.

A lot of this series has to do with building confidence and believing in yourself, so if you could just go ahead and wave that magic wand now, that would be great. (grin)

Just so you know, I’m including aspirants—would-be, pre-Stage-1 fiction writers—in this group too.

Also just so you know, here’s my basic premise when I talk about writing fiction:

Planning to write is not writing.
Outlining, character sketching, or world building is not writing.
Thinking or talking about writing is not writing.
Researching is not writing.
Conscious-mind revision and rewriting and even creative-subconscious “cycling” are not writing.
Writing is putting new, original words on the page.

The more I thought about (and later typed about) this topic, the more words came and the longer this post got. So this is kind of another introduction to this segment on young-in-craft, early-stage fiction writers:

Despite having absorbed and internalized Story Structure their entire lives (as we all do) through reading fiction and through viewing it in films; sitcoms, dramas, and other television series; and even some commercial advertising, many writers neither recognize nor trust that they already know story structure.

That includes pretty much all Stage 1 writers as well as many Stage 2 writers.

But the realization that writers already know story structure doesn’t arrive until they become comfortable with writing short stories and/or novels. Then the realization comes as a kind of epiphany.

So this might even apply to some early Stage 3 writers. (I’ll delineate the stages later in this series.)

If you haven’t realized yet that you innately know story structure, keep writing fiction and you will. I promise.

Until they realize they’ve internalized story structure, writers tend to buy nonfiction books about structure. Those books usually detail different “acts” and “formulas” and various methods of outlining and other structures of fiction.

But the thing is, if you’re thinking about structure as you write—whether your thinking about what happens in which “act” or whether you’re trying to stay true to whatever “formula” or whether you’re outlining—you aren’t writing via the creative subconscious. You’re constructing, not creating.

I hasten to add, that’s perfectly fine if it’s what you want to do. But back when I was doing that, it sucked all the fun out of storytelling.

I wish I could tell you right here to go buy my nonfiction book on structure, but I’ve never written one.

I’ve never lowered myself to the point of ripping off writers by taking advantage of their naive addiction to the lure of writing with the conscious mind. Instead, I teach that nobody should use the critical mind to construct fiction.

Besides, if I did try to write such a book, it would probably consist of a single page that contains this advice:

Believe in yourself. Nobody can write about your characters and their story more authentically than you can. Plus, only you have your unique authorial voice.
That unique voice is boring to you, but that’s because it’s with you 24/7. To others, your voice is unique. And your characters and their story is unique to you too.
To start writing, all you need is a character with whatever little “starter” problem. It doesn’t have to be “the” big problem or conflict of the story. That will occur naturally, unbidden and without conscious thought, later.
Drop that character into a setting.
Then sit down, right now, and write the story.

No, seriously, that’s all writing fiction requires. If you Just Write the Story, the structure will take care of itself.

Re that “starter’ problem, it can literally be anything. Maybe it’s an untied shoelace or gum on your sole or a locked door that should be unlocked or a spot on the character’s shirt or a wristwatch the character just realized stopped sometime earlier and now s/he’s gonna be late for work.

Okay, now to craft.

It’s a great idea to write

a strong hook to pull the reader into the story initially, then
a good opening to ground the reader in the story, then
whatever events and/or dialogue happen in the scene, then
a cliffhanger at the end of the scene, then
another good hook to combine with the cliffhanger you just wrote and to propel the reader into the next scene.
Lather, rinse, repeat.

Beyond that, just describe each character and each new setting to keep the reader grounded in the story. Then keep writing whatever happens in each scene.

So if you need a structure for your process, there it is. As i wrote earlier, the structure of the story itself will arrive naturally on its own.

Okay, so if I make my new nonfiction book two pages I can cover both structure and craft. Nifty, eh?

But because some writers believe more strongly in the “secret handshake” to break into the world of professional fiction writers than they believe in themselves, the above might be the most difficult thing in the world for them to do.

The Brass Tacks

All Stage 1 and many early Stage 2 fiction writers

are more focused on doing things “right”—using all of the “right” words and sentences in all of the “right” places, and all of that in the “right” structure—than on simply conveying a story.
They often believe writing fiction is some sort of elevated calling rather than a simple, journeyman, workaday endeavor.
They tend to believe there’s a secret to writing fiction that most successful fiction writers keep to themselves.
They will spend money freely to attain access to the periphery of the “real” fiction-writing world by attending writers’ conferences, meetings, conventions, and other gatherings. There, they can remain anonymous in a crowd while hoping to obtain knowledge vicariously through some kind of osmosis.
They will seldom directly invest in their own future by paying for real, useful, personalized knowledge through in-person seminars or webinars or mentorship programs.
And when they seek criticism of their creative work, they are most often looking for approval, not an actual, helpful critique. (This is why most critique groups eventually degrade into mutual admiration societies.) For that reason, they will also more readily accept advice from other beginners rather than from seasoned professionals.

All of that enables Stage 1 and early Stage 2 writers to remain in their comfort zone. The problem with comfort zones is that storytelling ability atrophies.

Back tomorrow with the particular traits of Stage 1 fiction writers and maybe whatever else pops up while I’m writing that.

Of Interest

The Chatbots Appear to Be Organizing Story ideas.

Great Bed Races bring crowds and laughter to Oatman Just for fun (and story ideas)

Kickstarter Friday One Kickstarter features our own Kathryn Kayleigh. Have a look.

The Numbers

The Journal………………….. 1150
Mentorship Words…………….. 0
Total Nonfiction…………………. 1150

Writing of

Day 1…… XXXX words. To date………… XXXXX

Fiction for February………………………. XXXX
Fiction for 2026…………………………… XXXX
Nonfiction for February.…………………. 5970
Nonfiction for 2026………………..……… 25560
2026 consumable words………………… 25560

2026 Novels to Date……………………… 0
2026 Novellas to Date…………………… 0
2026 Short Stories to Date……………… 0
Novels (since Oct 19, 2014)…………….. 123
Novellas (since Nov 1, 2015)…………… 10
Short stories (since Apr 15, 2014)……… 310
Short story collections……………………. 29

In Today’s Journal