Writebrl - Blog Posts

I’m back, and currently drafting the final chapter of Project A.M.

PLEASE, I can’t wait to start draft two and whip this project into shape. But I always rush endings. Perhaps I should slow down and savour this first draft.

I want to read this :oo

[TRANSCRIPT/TAGLIST AT END OF POST]

W.I.P. (re)Introduction:

TINY FLEA

[OLD INTRO]

GENRE/S: Speculative, horror, dystopian pandemic, soft elements of sci-fi & supernatural.

SETTING: The fictitous town of Tiny Flea, New South Wales, Australia; 2024.

AUDIENCE: Adult.

POV/TENSE: Third person limited (multi POV), past tense.

STATUS: First draft.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Horror themes (incl. psychological&body horror); violence and gore; bugs/parasites; murder/death; alcoholism/smoking; unreality; paranoia; religious themes; portrayals of bigoted beliefs; discussions/mentions of abuse; references to grooming & coercion. (Note: may be updated later).

CONCEPT: In the year 2024, a parasitic disease breaks out in Tiny Flea, a fictitious town in NSW, Australia. In an attempt to control the spread of the parasite, the town is closed off from the rest of the country. The story follows several perspectives, showcasing how each person deals with their newfound circumstance. Some band together in order to survive, to try and restore order and to discover the true nature of the parasite. Others, however, have more sinister intentions...

SYNOPSIS:

Returning to his hometown of Tiny Flea after serving a twelve-year prison sentence, thirty-six year old Gavin DeRossi is eager to redeem himself. However, any hopes Gavin had of going back to a normal life are dashed when he finds his hometown in the grips of a parasitic pandemic. Worse still, both of his parents, the people he considered to be his only allies left in the world, are dead—killed by the mysterious brain parasite which plagues the town.

Banding together with a ragtag group of survivors, Gavin is determined to save the town of Tiny Flea by learning more about the true nature of the parasite. The answers he finds, however, are far more bizarre than he ever could have anticipated...

TRANSCRIPT 1: In the eyes of Gavin DeRossi, Tiny Flea had been aptly named. Hovering somewhere between being classified as a town or a city, the place he had grown up was a blood-swollen parasite. It had latched onto the surface of his youth, sucking dry his aspirations and potential, leaving him nothing but a bloodless, lifeless host for the countless memories it had left him with. But oh, how he’d missed it.

TRANSCRIPT 2: Gregory wasn’t entirely sure what Graham’s condition was. Lying on his back on top of the bedcovers, he didn’t look obviously unwell. He wasn’t injured. He hadn’t thrown up. His face, however, was contorted in pain. He struggled and thrashed about in a pathetic sort of manner, like a weakened animal making a last-ditch effort to fight off its attackers. It was his eyes, however, which told Gregory that his father-in-law’s death was at hand. His eyes, normally a lively grey, were dull, staring lifelessly ahead at nothing. His body protested against his fate, but Gregory recognised that his eyes belonged to someone who knew that they were facing death head-on. He had seen those eyes once before.

TRANSCRIPT 3: He checked his wound one last time before going to sleep, and was satisfied. It no longer looked inflamed. Without a doubt, it would heal without much trouble at all. But the wound had already done its damage, regardless of whether it was infected or not, regardless of whether it healed cleanly or left a ragged scar. Unbeknownst to Craig, the larvae had already begun to move beneath the skin.

TAGLIST (ask to be added or removed): @aetherwrites @ljscrawls @chloeswords @avi-burton-writing @kitblogsthings @ravens-and-rivers @writerlywonders @alicewestwater @bookpacking @theelectricfactory @ryns-ramblings @alexsidereus @kowlazovdi @ezrathings @sunwornpages @bijouxs @pamsdrabbles @melpomeny @peepos-prose

5 frustrating workshop rules that made me a better writer

Throughout the 15 workshops I joined in college and grad school, I encountered two types of writing rules.

First, there were the best-practice guidelines we’ve all heard, like “show don’t tell.” And then there were workshop rules, which the professor put in place not because they’re universal, but because they help you grow within the context of the workshop.

My college’s intro writing course had 5 such rules:

No fantasy, supernatural, or sci-fi elements.

No guns.

No characters crying.

No conflict resolution through deus ex machina.

No deaths.

When I first saw the rules, I was baffled. They felt weirdly specific, and a bit unfair. But when our professor, Vinny, explained their purpose (and assured us he only wanted us to follow the rules during this intro workshop, not the others to come), I realized what I could learn from them.

1. No fantasy, supernatural, or sci-fi elements.

Writers need to be able to craft round characters, with clear arcs. While you can hone those skills writing any type of story, it can be more difficult when juggling fantastical elements, because it’s easy to get caught up in the world, or the magic, or the technology, and to make that the focus instead of the characters. So Vinny encouraged us to exclude such elements for the time being, to keep us fully focused on developing strong, dynamic characters.

2. No guns.

Weapons have a place in many stories, but when writers include a gun, they often use it to escalate the plot outside of the realm of personal experience and into what Vinny called “Hollywood experience.” He wanted us to learn how to draw from our own observations and perceptions of life, rather than the unrealistic action, violence, and drama we’d seen in movies, so he made this rule to keep us better grounded in our own experiences.

3. No characters crying.

When trying to depict sadness, writers often default to making characters cry. While there’s nothing inherently wrong with that, tears are just one way to show grief, and they aren’t always the most subtle or emotionally compelling. That’s why Vinny challenged us to find other ways to convey sadness — through little gestures, strained words, fragile interactions, and more. It was difficult, but opened us up to depicting whole new gradients of grief and pain.

4. No conflict resolution through deus ex machina.

This is the only one of the rules I’d say is generally universal. Meaning “God from the machine,” deus ex machina is a plot device where a character’s seemingly insurmountable problem is abruptly resolved by an outside force, rather than their own efforts. These endings are bad for various reasons, but Vinny discouraged them because he wanted us to understand how important it was for our characters to confront their struggle and its consequences.

5. No deaths.

Death is inherently dramatic and can be used to good effect, but many writers use death as a crutch to create drama and impact. Writers should be able to craft engaging, meaningful stories, even without killing off their characters, so this rule challenged us to find other methods of giving weight to our stories (such as through internal conflict).

How these rules helped me grow as a writer

First things first, I’ll say it again: apart from #4 (deus ex machina), these rules were never meant to be universally applied. Instead, their purpose was to create temporary barriers and challenges to help us develop key skills and write in new, unfamiliar ways.

For me, the experience was invaluable. I liked the way the rules challenged and stretched my abilities, driving me to write stories I’d have never otherwise attempted. They made me more flexible as a writer, and while I don’t follow the rules anymore (I LOVE me some fantasy), I’ll always be thankful for how they shaped my writing.

My recommendation to you?

Give some of these rules a shot! Follow them temporarily while writing 2-4 short stories — but remember to always keep their purpose in mind, because the rules themselves will only help if you understand what they’re trying to achieve.

Write with purpose, and you’ll always be growing.

— — —

For more tips on how to craft meaning, build character-driven plots, and grow as a writer, follow my blog.

you look so tired,

lampshade, on fire

calmly, talking,

inanimate objects

I felt, much better

off alone in the tower