Vlog: How to Manipulate Pace

You asked, I answered. Today I'm talking about how to manipulate the pace in your manuscripts.

RELATED LINKS: 

• How I Plot (vlog)
• How to Manipulate Pace

What other tips would you add for manipulating pace in a WIP?

Twitter-sized bite: 

Struggling to get your WIP's pacing right? @Ava_Jae vlogs some tips for manipulating pace in your manuscript. (Click to tweet)

How to Manipulate Pace

Photo credit: sugr.stoc on Flickr

I'd wager to say that probably over half of the DNF reviews I see on Goodreads for various books are at least partially due to pacing issues not clicking into place. What the "right" pace is can very much depend on the particular reader, but the wrong pace—especially if it's too slow—can often mean putting a book down and not picking it back up again.

It was no surprise to me, then, that pacing is something I often see commented on as problematic in submissions I see for my editorial work as well as reasons readers did or did not enjoy a book in reviews.

When you're writing, however, pacing can sometimes be a little tricky to get right, which is a bummer because hearing that your pacing is off can be a scary critique, as it often means a lot of manuscript surgery. If you do, however, find that you need to adjust the pacing of your manuscript, here are a few adjustments you may want to consider.

Note: As a general rule, if your pace is lagging, you'll want to think about cuts, and if your pace is moving too quickly, you'll want to think about additions. Remember, the more white space there is on a page, the faster the reading will feel.

• Add/remove scenes. If you're getting large-scale feedback (or just suspect) that your beginning/middle/end/whatever needs pace adjustment, think about where you can add or remove scenes. If you're cutting, what can you remove without losing vital information? What scenes can you merge together? If you're adding, where can you add meaningful breaks or buff up existing scenes to add in some breathing room?


• Think about chapter length. Similarly, adjusting chapter length can help manipulate how quick or slow the reading feels. Short chapters tend to translate to feeling as if you're reading quickly and the reverse happens with long chapters (though that's not to say long chapters can't be equally excellent or interesting). If you want to speed up the pacing in a certain area of your manuscript, you may want to think about splitting some chapters here and there—or merging them where you need to slow down some.


• Take a look at paragraph and sentence length. Maybe your pace problem isn't widespread, but it's not quite right for a particular scene. This is where you'll really want to hone in on paragraph and sentence-level changes. If you need to speed your scene up—say, in a fight scene—think about shortening up those sentences and paragraphs, and maybe even playing around with a sprinkle of one-word sentences or one-sentence paragraphs. If you have the opposite problem, think about merging some short paragraphs together and stringing short sentences together.

Pacing isn't always easy to get right, but with enough practice and thoughtful manipulation, it'll be another skill you can add to your writer toolbox.

What pacing tips would you add to the list? 

Twitter-sized bite: 

Struggling to get your WIP's pacing right? @Ava_Jae shares some helpful tips. (Click to tweet)

Fixing the First Page Feature #3

Photo credit: n0brein on Flickr

All right! So as these things go, I’m going to start off by posting the full 250 excerpt, then I’ll share some overall thoughts, then my redline critique. I absolutely encourage all of you to share your own thoughts and critiques (after all, I’m only one person with one opinion), as long as it’s polite, thoughtful and constructive. Any rude or mean comments will be deleted.

Let’s go!

Title: THE SILENT WORLD 

Genre/Category: YA Post-Apocalyptic 

First 250:

David paced the apartment, cradling his infant cousin. She had stopped crying, too exhausted and miserable to do anything but lie in his arms. Barely two weeks since her mother died and already he was struck with the horrible conviction that he had failed her. 

There were three cans of green beans but that didn't help: the baby was too little to eat canned food. He peered out the window. The streets were quiet right now, but he could smell smoke.  David didn’t want to go outside, but he had no choice—he needed to get formula for the baby. He could survive longer without food than she could. He fashioned a sling to carry his cousin, then packed his meager possessions: the cans of green beans, a can opener, a flashlight, a Swiss Army knife, and a photo album. 

He didn't need to be told about all the dangers that waited outside the complex’s iron gates. Every day, the air echoed with gunfire; thick, grey smoke rose. David took a deep breath and peered through the bars as the wind whipped through the gates. The sky was ash-grey—it smelled of smoke and decay. He reached for the Super's keys and stepped through the gates, making sure to lock them behind him. 

Though David had lived in this city since he was ten, he felt like a stranger, as he walked the twisting streets. He had been away too long, hiding with Mai in the Heavenly Hills apartment complex.

Okay, so an overall note that you (and other YA Post-Apoc writers) will hopefully find helpful: thus far, just about every time I’ve seen a YA Post-Apocalyptic (or dystopia that happens to be post-apocalyptic) submission, it’s started with characters thinking about how little food they have and how they need to endanger themselves to feed their families. This isn’t inherently bad, per say, but the problem is a) most times, it opens with the characters not doing anything, just thinking about how they’re hungry/don’t have food/need to do something etc. and b) it’s done a lot. Whenever you have an opening that follows a pattern often seen for the genre (or in general) it’s much harder for you to stand out, so that’s something to think about.

Now the in-line notes:

David paced the apartment, cradling his infant cousin. She had stopped crying, too exhausted and miserable to do anything but lie in his arms. Barely two weeks since her mother died and already he was struck with the horrible conviction that he had failed her. I’m guessing you mean the cousin’s mother, but it’s not clear who “her” is in this sentence.
Another note on the first paragraph: as far as hooks go, I think this could be stronger. Yes, we feel a little sympathetic for David and his baby cousin, but as is, there isn’t anything there that really grabs me as a reader. Whether you want to achieve that by changing where it starts, adding more to the voice or something else is up to you, but I’d recommend testing different openings with betas to try to figure out how best to hook your readers.  

There were three cans of green beans but that didn't help: the baby was too little to eat canned food. He peered out the window. The streets were quiet right now, but he could smell smoke.  Two notes here: 1) What does it look like when he peeks outside? You give us auditory information (it’s quiet) and olfactory information (it smells like smoke), but what does he see? We don’t even know the time of day here. 2) This is a bit of a technicality, but how does he smell smoke if he’s standing inside? Is the window open? If so, is the air outside cold? Stifling hot? David didn’t want to go outside, but he had no choice—he needed to get formula for the baby. He could survive longer without food than she could. Do you think you could show us some of this information through his thoughts and actions, rather than telling us? He fashioned a sling to carry his cousin, then packed his meager possessions: the cans of green beans, a can opener, a flashlight, a Swiss Army knife, and a photo album. Can you give us more details? Are these new items? Rusty, old, falling apart items? A mix of the two? 

He didn't need to be told about all the dangers that waited outside the complex’s iron gates. Maybe not, but we do. Could you show us some of those dangers? Every day, the air echoed with gunfire; thick, grey smoke rose. David took a deep breath and peered through the bars as the wind whipped through the gates. Is this cold wind? Hot wind? The sky was ash-grey—it smelled of smoke and decay. He reached for the Super's keys and stepped through the gates, making sure to lock them behind him. Which are where? Hidden somewhere? In his pocket? Somewhere else? 

Though David had lived in this city since he was ten, he felt like a stranger, as he walked the twisting streets. He had been away too long, hiding with Mai in the Heavenly Hills apartment complex.

As far as this opening goes, I think you may want to consider starting a little later on. As is, the pace is a little on the slower side, and as I mentioned above, I think you could use a stronger hook. My guess is the pace increases as he wanders the street searching for food and something happens? Or something else, but I think it would benefit you to consider starting maybe a little later on.

If I saw this in the slush, I would probably anticipate a pass, but I think this is a relatively easy fix after you figure out where best to start your story, assuming you decide to change it. (In the end, of course, it’s absolutely up to you—it’s your story!).

Thanks for sharing your first 250, Jenny!

Would you like to be featured in a Fixing the First Page Feature? Keep an eye out for the next giveaway!

Twitter-sized bite: 

Writer @Ava_Jae talks pacing and choosing the right place to start your book in the third Fixing the First Page critique. (Click to tweet)

Keep Your Characters Moving

Photo credit: Dr. Mark Kubert on Flickr

One of the very first elements I work out when brainstorming a new WIP is what my protagonist’s goal is. This, to me, is one of the most important elements to work out early in the process, because it’s largely what drives the story forward. 

What your protagonist wants, of course, will largely depend on the genre. In a YA Contemporary, your protagonist may want to find love or fit in with his/her peers, in a Sci-Fi they may want to survive a dangerous environment or save humanity from something devastating. Whatever it is, figuring it out early on, then keeping it in mind while you write is essential to keep a story developing. 

Why is it so important? Well, let’s think about it. 

Without some sort of goal, your protagonist has no reason to do…well…anything. If Harry lived a perfectly happy life with the Dursleys, he probably wouldn’t have been so desperate to go to Hogwarts. If Katniss didn’t care enough about her sister to take her place in the games, she never would’ve volunteered and started a revolution. If Tris had fit in with Abnegation, she never would’ve joined Dauntless and uncovered the truth about Divergence. 

Without a goal, there isn’t a story. 

This is something that’s really important to remember while you’re writing. I find that oftentimes, when a story starts to lag or the pacing grinds to a halt, it’s because the protagonist has lost sight of their goal. After all, if they’re no longer aiming to accomplish something, how is the story supposed to continue? 

The answer? It won’t. 

What tips do you have for keeping your characters moving?

Twitter-sized bites: 

"Without a goal, there isn't a story." #writingtip (Click to tweet)  

Do you know your characters' goals? Here's why writer @Ava_Jae says it's so essential. (Click to tweet)

Pacing Tip: Contrast in Plot

So I’m sure most of you remember middle and high school (or equivalent) English class, where the teacher drew the arc of the average story on the board, which looked something like this:

Oversimplification, but you get the idea.

What your English teacher may or may not have told you is if you were to zoom into any point in that arc, it should look a little something like this:

...Yes. It should look like a porcupine back. Or something.

What your English teacher definitely didn’t tell you is that it should never look like this:

Hope someone has a defibrillator handy.

Like a flatlining heartbeat, a plateauing plot is bad news.

Just like any decent roller coaster, your plot should include highs and lows both emotionally and pace-wise. Victories and setbacks, moments of quiet tenderness and heart-wrenching loss, chapters paced at breakneck speed followed by moments of rest and introspection.

The one constant amongst the highs and lows that you should strive to include is contrast.

The thing to remember about pacing and plot is too many high-action scenes next to each other is just as monotonous as too many consecutive quiet scenes. Think of it like a marathon: if you run at full-speed for too long, you’re going to burn out (or in this case, burn your readers out), whereas a burst of speed in the right places followed by a period of rest (as in slowing down, not stopping altogether) will suit you better. (Disclaimer: I’ve never run a marathon in my life, nor do I intend to. This may be bad marathoning advice, but it works in writing—promise).

Highs and lows keep things interesting—and even better, they make their respective ups and downs that much more powerful. A crushing loss after a euphoric high hurts twice as bad a slight disappointment after a moment of sorta-kinda-hopefulness.

So next time you start to feel your story plateauing, consider throwing in a major high or low to shake things up a bit. Your MS will thank you.

Do you include contrast in your plot? 

Twitter-sized bites: 

Do you have contrast in your plot? Writer @Ava_Jae shares the importance of highs and lows in your WIP. (Click to tweet)  

Does your plot need a defibrillator? Here are some pacing tips to inject life back into your plot. (Click to tweet)