Hardest Test I’ve Ever Taken

Hi! Hope you're having a great day. I'm reaching out because I'm trying to start a community on here that's for writers and readers of fiction (target audience from 13-25ish). I want it to be like a bookstore that's run by the authors. So, authors (or aspiring authors) can have an accessible and interactive way to talk about their works and readers can ask about stories/engage with authors. There'll be different games to keep things fresh and I'm planning on a lot of genres being represented. Do you think this is something you'd like to be part of? If so, I can send a link when it's ready!

That sounds cool! Hit me up when it’s ready!

you know you’ve been writing too long when your fictional world feels more real than the one you’re living in

it’s okay if your prose is ugly right now. it’s just pre-gorgeous.

Avoiding therapy speak in writing

I think we all know by now that therapy speak is irritating and unrealistic, especially if you are writing in a fantasy world that doesn't even have modern psychology.

Part of the reason that it is so annoying is that it is the definition of telling instead of showing: characters are just plainly informing us of their feelings rather than making us work for a better understanding. It's cheap and boring. Instead of making your characters seem like complex individuals with their own hangups and difficulties, they seem like plot points programmed to tell us things.

But obviously, you want to put these people in situations and have them talk about it! How do you do that without sounding maudlin? Here are some options.

Listen to real arguments/conversations

I cannot stress enough how important it is to listen to how actual real human beings talk to each other during heightened emotional states. They don't have to be nasty abusers, and they don't have to be perfect angels, just everyday people doing their normal thing.

Of course, I'd hope you're not seeing people argue all the time, but if you do happen to see it, listen carefully and notice how people actually address their problems. Think back to tough conversations that you have had, even if you wouldn't classify them as arguments. Consider how people acted and reacted to one another. Notice how normal humans talk about issues outside of therapy, even intelligent and emotionally evolved people.

I've had years of therapy, and even I do not talk in therapy ways about my issues when I'm talking to my family or friends. It just feels cheesy and fake outside of that particular setting - plus, it freaks other people out and can seem kind of manipulative. Try talking like that in a real conversation and see how uncomfortable it is. You'll understand why avoiding therapy speak is important.

Consider the character's own hangups

Just as everyone has their own unique speaking style and mindset, so do we all have our own argument styles. These are often informed by our pasts and upbringing; they are as varied as our own histories. However, there are a few different options.

Someone with a happy upbringing may be more assertive and willing to address their problems because they had that demonstrated to them as children.

A spoiled child will grow up to be a demanding adult who refuses to give any quarter.

Those who got yelled at a lot as children may shut down and fawn to avoid getting hurt.

Someone who grew up in a violent household may mimic that behavior and get incredibly aggressive when upset.

Individuals whose parents didn't teach them emotional regulation will lash out and get loud.

Manipulative people may stay very calm and gaslight the other person, or they may get hysterical to garner sympathy and make people focus on comforting them.

Someone who has gone to therapy may revert to their original argument style, or they may imperfectly apply what they have learned in a way that feels a bit unnatural. They may start out with rage, then force themselves to calm down through grounding techniques.

People who have been coached through previous emotional outbursts could demand a time out, then fail to actually calm themselves down.

Some may refuse to acknowledge they are upset and insist, in increasingly forceful terms, that they are fine.

Others may get quiet or crack a joke to ease the tension, but it doesn't really help.

Keep each confrontation short

IRL, emotional confrontations are generally not that long. They don't go on for hours and hours, though it can feel that way. No one is going on and on about their feelings and sharing every little detail of how they feel (at least not that I know of personally, maybe other people are different).

Even the worst arguments I have had, the real nexus of the argument was maybe an hour or two, though the fallout lasted much longer. I'd say there was an hour maximum of real, active confrontation, preceded or followed by hours/days/weeks of simmering frustration.

Why? Because arguments are exhausting. You don't have the energy for that in the heat of the moment. Yes, feuds and fights can last years, but each actual confrontation is short.

For longer, more serious issues, hash it out over a few sessions rather than all at once. It's rare to get everything out of the way immediately unless the characters already have a strong, loving relationship.

Show incongruencies

Especially for more reserved people, they will likely have their emotions leaking all over the place but won't actually say anything. As such, focus on body language while keeping the conversation more focused on the plot. For example, Character A might be crying but still trying to argue their point about whatever is going on.

Address physical complaints instead of emotional ones

In many cases, people will use "I'm tired" or "I didn't sleep well" or "I'm not feeling great" as shorthand for whatever is actually bothering them. It relieves pressure by not making them talk about upsetting matters while still addressing their discomfort in some form.

You should also consider the fact that some people can't connect physical sensations to feelings, so they may genuinely feel ill and not really understand why. This is especially common in people who can't emotionally regulate or have been through trauma.

For myself, I tend to somatize my feelings, so I might not feel upset, but I will feel physically sick. My stomach will hurt, my chest will get tight, or I'll get a headache, but my emotional state will seem calm. This isn't all that unusual, and many people experience this to different degrees.

As such, you can have your character say that their stomach hurts, or that they have a headache and can't discuss this anymore, or that they need to go lie down because they're dizzy. If we know they're relatively healthy, this can be a clue that they're getting overwhelmed but either cannot pinpoint their emotions or don't want to discuss them.

Let characters advance and retreat

A lot of the time, someone will address a scary emotion and then retreat again, sometimes over a period of hours, days, or even weeks. This is normal: most of us don't have the emotional fortitude to forge ahead through something difficult all in one go. Character A may say something vulnerable, then change the topic, laugh it off, say they're done discussing it, or even leave the situation.

Leave emotions partially unaddressed

Again, it's rare for someone to spill out everything they're feeling all in one go. As such, have Character A address the most important thing - or the least important, depending on their level of emotional maturity - and let it be done for then.

They might say their small piece, but when someone tries to probe deeper, they don't have an answer, or they get "stuck" on that one emotional level and cannot go further.

If Character B keeps pushing, then they may get incredibly upset and push back, or retreat.

Have Character B point out the feelings

Works especially well if the other character is a close companion or a parental figure. Often, people who know us really well will have better insight into our emotions than we do. Or, we might have good insight into our emotions but are still too afraid to open up. Having Character B point out the issue gives Character A grace to be more honest.

I can't tell you how many times I've been really upset, so I've distracted from the issue by getting angry about something completely different. Then, my mom will gently point out that I'm not actually crying about my new plastic cup being broken or whatever; I'm actually upset about XYZ. In that moment, I realize I've been caught out and admit that yes, that's what I'm really upset about.

Have Character A address it with a third character

Who among us hasn't gone to someone else to talk about our feelings? Having a third party serve as a sounding board is normal. Sometimes, Character A will feel such catharsis from this conversation that they don't address it as thoroughly with Character B.

Of course, you can use this to your advantage and create more tension if the third character gives bad advice or is biased.

Remember that just because the third party responded well does not mean that Character B does. You also have to avoid omniscience and remember that Character B wasn't privy to that conversation.

Have one confrontation be a stand-in for a larger one

I always think about the "The Iranian Yogurt Is Not the Issue" post when I think about this. Often times, things like not doing the dishes or whatever aren't actually the big deal: it's lack of boundaries, communication, or respect. A minor argument can be shorthand for a larger one that is too challenging for the characters to tackle.

This isn't just creating drama for the hell of it, though; it's about exploring the larger issues without making the characters lay it out on the table. A good reader will be able to see it's not about the Iranian Yogurt as long as you set up the relationship well.

Currently, I am writing a story where Uileac and his sister Cerie go to rescue Uileac's husband, Orrinir. On the way there, Uileac idly comments on how he wonders where a waterfall comes from because he's trying to distract himself from thinking about the fact that his husband is kidnapped and possibly dead.

Cerie, being pretty wound up too, starts arguing with him about it because she's like "why is this relevant? We're kind of too busy to think about geology right now!" Uileac gets annoyed at her for being so aggro, and she gets annoyed at him for being so irreverent. Both of them are upset about something completely different, but they're too scared and panicked to actually address that, so they release their frustrations by complaining about waterfalls.

Those bad vibes have to go somewhere, but neither of them are very good at talking about their feelings (though very good at stuffing them down). As such, they take the pressure off by sniping at one another. You've probably done this too, when you get into a dumb argument about something absolutely pointless because there's something you don't feel strong enough to discuss.

There's also the fact that if you're mad at someone about something but feel it's too stupid or petty to discuss, that frustration will leak out and everything else they do will annoy you, leading to a bunch of irrelevant arguments.

Use "reaffirmation" gestures

I talked about this in a different post, but after an argument, the "make up" stage doesn't always involve going "ohhh I forgive you" and big hugs and kisses, especially when the two characters aren't emotionally mature.

Instead, Character A makes gestures that reaffirm the relationship. This could be offering to do something Character B needs, making plans for later, or changing the topic to discuss something the other character cares about ("how are your cats doing?") etc.

Note that these "reaffirmation" gestures aren't the same as the cycle of abuse. This is more when two characters have had a difficult emotional conversation but aren't really sure how to continue being emotionally open, so they revert to something safer that still shows they care. They're not over-the-top gestures either, but more a special attention to something the other person loves. Knowing what the other person loves also demonstrates the depth of their relationship.

As always, I can't tell you what to do with your writing.

You are the crafter of your own story, and if you want people to talk like therapists for whatever reason, that's your choice. However, we want characters to feel like real people, and most real people don't lay it all out on the table every single time they're upset. If they do, they might be trauma vomiting, which is icky in and of itself.

Healthy communication isn't always perfect communication. People can have strong, loving relationships and still get things wrong - we're human. Having people calmly and rationally and easily talk about their feelings every single time is not only kind of boring, but it also feels weird, because unless we're primed to discuss those difficult topics and know we're perfectly safe, we're not going to do that.

People don't even do that in therapy, where they are paying for the service of talking about their feelings! Therapists also don't always do that IRL!

We're humans, and your characters need to feel like humans as well. That means letting them be imperfect communicators and using context clues rather than making them do all the work for the reader.

If you liked my advice, consider purchasing my book, 9 Years Yearning, for $3!

It’s the best! I do it with poetry all the time, I need stronger prose

officially made a reader cry...am i a real writer now?

hi! i need help with writing descriptions, no matter they always feel very boring and repetitive, especially if it’s a one character scene, when i try to describe emotions and such — it just all feels very tell no show?

Hey anon!

So I'll divide your question into 2 parts :

a) the general description and b) describing emotions

GENERAL DESCRIPTIONS:

1. Describe With Purpose, Not Just for Filler:

Every description should do something—set the mood, reveal character, or add tension. Ask yourself:

Does this description tell us something about the character?

Does it affect the scene's mood?

Would the scene feel different without it?

Example: Instead of listing details about a room, show how a character interacts with it.

The room was small, with a wooden desk, a single chair, and a bookshelf in the corner. (Factual but lifeless.)

The room barely fit the essentials. The bookshelf leaned slightly to one side, stuffed past its limit, and the desk was clean—too clean, like someone had wiped it down one too many times. (Gives a sense of personality.)

note: this is not to say that simple doesn't work. Simple does work too. In fact in descriptions I prefer not to overload the reader with too much info. Sometimes tell not show is exactly what you want.

2. Use Comparisons, But Make Them Interesting

Instead of just saying something is big, small, cold, warm—compare it to something vivid. But avoid clichés like "as cold as ice" or "as dark as night."

Example:

(The house was huge.)

The house loomed over the street like it had been dropped there by mistake, too grand for the tiny patch of land it stood on.

3. Vary Sentence Structure & Rhythm

If every description is the same length, it starts feeling robotic. Mix short and long sentences to create flow.

Example:

The sky was dark. The streetlights flickered. The pavement was wet from the rain. (Too stiff, repetitive.)

The sky hung heavy, a sheet of unbroken black. The streetlights flickered—weak, sputtering ghosts against the dark. Rain pooled in the cracks of the pavement, reflecting the city in distorted, shattered pieces. (More dynamic and immersive.)

4. Make Mundane Actions More Engaging

Common actions—walking, drinking, sitting—can feel repetitive. Instead of always describing how someone moves, describe what their movement says about them.

Example: (She sat down on the chair and drank her coffee.)

The coffee was bitter, but she didn’t add sugar. She was too tired to care, or maybe just used to the taste of things that didn’t quite go down easy.

5. Use the Five Senses

Relying only on sight makes descriptions feel flat. Bring in sound, touch, smell, and taste to create depth.

Example: (The market was busy and full of stalls.)

The market was a riot of noise—fishmongers shouting deals, the metallic clang of knives against chopping boards. The air smelled of salt, spices, and the sharp tang of citrus from a freshly cut lemon.

6. Avoid “List” Descriptions

Instead of dumping all details in one go, weave them into the action.

Example:

The car was old. The paint was peeling. The tires were worn out. The seats were cracked. (Feels like a checklist.)

She ran a hand over the car’s hood. The paint peeled away in thin, brittle flakes, catching on her fingertips. One of the tires sagged, low on air. Inside, the leather seats were cracked, their stuffing exposed like old battle wounds. (More immersive.)

7. Change the ‘Camera Angle’

If descriptions feel stale, shift perspective. Zoom in on small details or pull back for a bigger picture.

Example: (The sky was blue and the trees were tall.)

(Zoom in) The sky stretched unbroken, a shade of blue so deep it looked painted on. A single cloud drifted by, lazy and indifferent.

(Zoom out) The valley lay sprawled below, a patchwork of green and gold, rivers carving silver veins through the earth.

DESCRIBING EMOTIONS:

1. Ditch the Label, Focus on the Reaction

Instead of saying "She was nervous," think about how that nervousness manifests. Does she tap her fingers against the table? Does she try to swallow, only to realize her throat is dry? Does she force a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes?

(She was scared.)

Her grip tightened around the mug, the warmth failing to chase away the cold in her hands.

The doorknob rattled. She flinched so hard her knee slammed into the desk, sending a sharp jolt up her thigh.

2. Use the Environment as a Mirror

Solo scenes can feel isolating if it’s just a character thinking in a void. Use the surroundings to echo their mood. If they’re anxious, maybe the room feels too still, the clock ticking just a little too loud. If they’re sad, maybe the sky outside is stubbornly blue and bright, like the world refuses to match their mood.

Example: The cold wind pushed against her back, and for a second, it felt like someone was there. But when she turned, it was just the empty street behind her.

3. Sensory Details Are Your Best Friend

People experience emotions with their whole body. What does fear taste like? What does joy feel like against the skin? Even a simple emotion like anger can be described in different ways—burning hot like a wildfire, or cold and simmering like a blade pressed to the throat.

Example:

Her jaw ached from clenching so hard. The words pressed against her teeth, sharp and bitter, demanding to be let out.

His vision blurred at the edges, not from tears, but from the heat rising in his skull. He could hear his own pulse, a steady drumbeat against his eardrums.

4. Using body language:

Example:

He smiled, but it was tight—too tight. Like if he let go, he might crack right down the middle.

5. Break the Inner Monologue Habit

If your descriptions feel like a constant stream of thoughts (I feel sad, I feel angry, I feel lonely), try breaking it up with actions.

Example:

She stared at the email, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. Then she backspaced everything she had typed, closed the tab, and shut the laptop. She’d try again later. Maybe.

His fingers found the bracelet at his wrist, the one she had given him years ago. He traced the worn-out engravings with his thumb, the metal warm against his skin.

She set two plates on the table before remembering. Staring at the extra one, she let out a breath and put it back in the cabinet. Old habits.

At the end of the day, writing descriptions is like learning to see the world through your character’s eyes. The more you practice, the more natural it’ll feel.

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

personal interpretations and preferences aside, there's no limit to what you can make a character say/do without taking them out of character. everyone has a breaking point that pushes them to do what they normally wouldn't. give me the circumstances and events that pushed the character. tell me what they're thinking/feeling. tell me how they're justifying their words/actions, both to themselves and to others. if you can argue it, it'll still feel authentic.

Writing Angsty Scenes Without Making Them Cringe

Alright, so we all love a good angsty moment, right? That scene where everything feels like it's falling apart, emotions are running high, and your character's world is just burning around them. But… writing those scenes without slipping into "oh no, not this again" territory? Yeah, it can be tricky.

Angst is powerful, no doubt, but it can get cringey fast if you’re not careful. So, how do you make your readers feel the hurt without rolling their eyes at the drama? Here are some thoughts (because we’ve all been there)

1. Keep It Real No one—and I mean no one—has perfectly poetic, life-altering thoughts while they’re in the middle of an emotional meltdown. If your character’s going through it, make sure their reactions feel raw, maybe even messy. Show us their confusion, anger, and fear in a way that makes sense for them. Don’t just throw in a monologue about the meaning of life or have them collapse in a rainstorm. (Unless it’s really necessary. Then, okay, fine, but be careful!)

2. The Little Details Hit Harder Sometimes, it’s the small, unexpected details that pack the biggest punch. Instead of a dramatic sobbing fit, maybe your character’s hands shake as they try to make a cup of tea or they notice a tiny crack in the wall that they never noticed before because they’re spiraling. It’s those little, relatable moments that make the angst feel real, not overdone.

3. Embrace the Quiet Moments It doesn’t always have to be yelling or crying to show that your character is struggling. Silence can be loud. Sometimes it’s the things unsaid that carry the most weight. Maybe your character withdraws, or they’re stuck staring at the ceiling for hours. A pause in the conversation, a long sigh, or a blank stare can be just as gut-wrenching as full-on breakdowns.

4. Avoid the Obvious Clichés (If You Can) Okay, this one’s a bit tricky. It’s not that you can’t ever have rain scenes or broken mirrors (I see you, “symbolism”), but if you’re gonna go there, give it a twist. Maybe instead of staring out a window during a storm, they’re in a brightly lit, overly cheerful room that just doesn’t match how they’re feeling. Play with contrasts. Make the environment work against their mood rather than mirroring it perfectly.

5. Let the Angst Breathe Don’t feel like you need to dump all the angst in one scene. Let it stretch out a bit. Give your characters space to process (or fail to process) over time. A lot of times, readers will feel more for a character who’s quietly unraveling over several chapters than one who explodes all at once. It makes the eventual breakdown hit harder when it does happen.

6. People Are Weird When They’re Hurting They joke at the wrong times. They say things they don’t mean. They shut people out, or they get way too clingy. Don’t be afraid to make your characters react in unexpected or contradictory ways—people do that when they’re feeling too much. Let your characters be complicated, because real people are.

7. Subtle Can Be Stronger Not every angsty scene needs a screaming match or someone running away dramatically. Sometimes, a single line of dialogue or a character’s slight change in expression can hit like a freight train. Try letting things simmer. Hold back when it feels like you should go big, and you might surprise yourself (and your readers) with how much more intense it feels.