When most people think about good writing, they think about  ideas, characters, or plot. But there's another element to it that enriches the reader's experience: the rhythm of the sentences themselves.
 
Every sentence has a pace. Some move quickly, driving the reader forward. Others slow things down, inviting reflection or creating atmosphere. A skilled writer knows when to use each.
 
One of the simplest ways to improve rhythm is through variety. If every sentence is the same length or follows the same pattern, the prose can become predictable. Mixing shorter, more direct sentences with longer, more flowing ones creates movement and keeps the reader engaged. See the picture below for a teaching tool I have seen several teachers use in workshops I have been to.

Reading aloud is one of the best editing tools you have. Awkward phrasing, repetition, and clumsy rhythms are much easier to hear than to see. If you find yourself stumbling over a sentence, your reader probably will too.
 
It's also worth paying attention to emphasis. Important words often have more impact when they appear at the beginning or end of a sentence. Sometimes moving just one phrase can completely change its effect.
 
The next time you revise, don't just ask whether your writing is correct. Ask yourself how it sounds. Does it flow? Does it pause where it should? Does it carry the reader naturally from one thought to the next?
 
Do you read your work aloud when you're editing, or is that a habit you'd like to develop? Let me know this, or anything about your own writing process, in the comments section here. Do you have any hot tips?

​Until next time, happy writing!

I don’t know about you, but I always feel it is a massive achievement to finish a first draft of anything, whether that is a flash fiction, short story, novel or any piece of writing. The achievement is that you did it – you started it and you finished. You transferred something from your head to the page, often with major life distractions.
 
But the first draft is only the beginning.
 
Revision is where a story really starts to come out. It's the stage where characters become clearer, scenes become stronger, and themes begin to emerge with greater confidence.
 
It can be a daunting undertaking though, so, instead of tackling everything at once, chop the job itself into bits. Give yourself a different focus with each read-through. Look at the overall structure first. Then examine character motivation. Next, consider pacing, dialogue, description, and finally the language itself. I started to do this after reading the book Solutions for Novelists – Secrets of a Master Editor by Sol Stein. It’s aimed at novelists, but is principles can be used for any writing. That micro-detail scene by scene, character by character.  It really helped me to focus on one thing at a time, and to give it my full attention.
 
Reading your work aloud is a great tool for editing. You'll hear repetition, awkward phrasing, and places where the rhythm falters far more easily than you'll spot them on the page.

Don’t be afraid to remove something you've worked hard to write. That’s the hardest thing by far to do – to delete or remove something you spent so much time on, and that you are really proud of. A beautiful paragraph that slows the story is still slowing the story. Every sentence should have a purpose. It’s a really tough thing, but you HAVE to be tough, and brave! Save those beautiful words for another project it might fit into.
 
Be patient with your work. Editing isn't the part that comes after writing. It's part of writing.
 
Tell me, when you revise, what do you tackle first? Do you do big-picture structure, character, dialogue, or polishing individual sentences? I am really interested to hear about other writers’ working techniques, so do comment here to let me know.

One of the things I worry about most in my writing is whether I have used too many overly used terms. There are so many clichés that slip through in writing that they can sometimes become comical. The most alarming thing is that there are Facebook pages dedicated to calling them out – so I often look at them to make sure I am not committing any of those “crimes”. Of course, cliches sometimes have a place. If what you are writing needs cliches to work, then use them. Rules are meant to be broken, and I don’t like to be too prescriptive in any of the advice in this blog. Take my advice “with a pinch of salt”, avoid being dictated to “like the plague”, and just make your work shine “like a new pin”. See what I did there?!
 
We all want our work to feel fresh and original, yet clichés have a habit of sneaking onto the page. Sometimes they arrive as familiar phrases. Sometimes they're predictable character types, stock reactions, or scenes we've seen many times before.
 
A cliché is often a shortcut. It reaches for the familiar rather than the particular. Instead of describing what this character would notice, feel, or say, it borrows something generic.
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One useful technique is to pause when you write the first thing that comes to mind. Not because it's necessarily wrong, but because there may be something more interesting underneath it. Ask yourself: What would this character do? What would this setting feel like? What detail belongs only to this moment?
 
Specificity is one of the best antidotes to cliché. Readers connect with details that feel observed rather than copied or borrowed.
 
It's also worth remembering that familiar ideas aren't automatically bad. Love, loss, family, hope, jealousy, ambition, and redemption have been written about for centuries. What makes them feel fresh is the unique perspective through which they're explored.
 
So don’t avoid every single element of the familiar – just be picky and makes sure it fits. If you can say it better, do! But if you can’t, and the phrase that was most obvious is the right one – use it but make sure it lands!

What's your favourite example of a story that took a familiar idea and made it feel completely fresh? - Let me know in the comments.

One of the biggest misconceptions about storytelling is that conflict has to be dramatic.
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When we hear the word, we often picture arguments, fights, villains, or major disasters. While those things can certainly create conflict, they are only a small part of the picture.

Conflict is simply a character wanting something and coming up against resistance.
That resistance might come from another person. It might come from circumstances. Often, it comes from within. Fear, guilt, uncertainty, loyalty, pride, grief, and self-doubt can all create compelling conflict.

Think about a character who wants to tell someone the truth but is afraid of the consequences. Or a character who wants to leave but feels responsible for staying. Nothing dramatic may happen on the surface, yet the reader feels the tension because something important is at stake.

In fact, some of the most powerful stories are built on quiet conflict; making a difficult choice, overcoming an internal obstacle, or facing an uncomfortable truth.

When you're writing, try asking yourself a simple question: What does my character want right now, and what's stopping them from getting it?

Tell me, what kind of conflict do you find most compelling to write or read: internal conflict, relationship conflict, or external obstacles? Let me know in the comments.

Until next time, happy writing!

I meant to get this blog post done on Sunday, but I had one computer issue after another, and then my website editor threw a wobbly! So I am a few days late getting this writing craft ramble out.  Last week was all about adding tension to our stories and ways to create it.

Tension is one of the most important parts of storytelling, but it’s often misunderstood. Many writers assume tension means explosions, arguments, or life-or-death situations. But really, tension can exist in the quietest scenes.

At its heart, tension comes from uncertainty. The reader wants to know what will happen, whether a character will succeed, what choice they'll make, or what consequences might follow.

One effective way to create tension is to give characters clear goals and place obstacles in their path. The greater the challenge, or the greater the cost of failure, the stronger the tension becomes. 

Questions are equally powerful. A reader doesn't need immediate answers. In fact, carefully placed uncertainties often encourage them to keep reading. The key is to create curiosity rather than confusion. 

Tension can also come from relationships, secrets, misunderstandings, deadlines, difficult decisions, or information that is withheld at the right moment. Sometimes a glance across a room can carry more tension than a dramatic confrontation.

When you are revising a story or a scene, look at each part and ask yourself: What is the reader worried about here? What are they hoping for? What question is encouraging them to turn the page? Tension isn't about making things louder and bigger. It's about making them matter.

What kind of tension do you most enjoy reading or writing. Do you prefer emotional tension, suspense, relationship conflict, mystery, or something else? Let me know in the comments.

Until next time, happy writing!

Some of the most satisfying moments in fiction happen when readers suddenly realise the clues were there all along. I always talk about this in workshops so some of you may have heard it before from me, but a perfect example of this is in the movie The Sixth Sense with Bruce Willis (the film is 27 years old now, so you would have seen it already if you wanted to, and this contains SPOILERS!). 

In the film it turns out the character you had been with all through the film was a ghost, and I thought, no, that can’t be true, because he spoke to people, he had dinner with his wife and talked to her! I immediately rewound the film and saw that NONE of those things had happened. He never interacted with anyone apart from the one boy who could see him. The anniversary dinner with his wife, where we thought he had arrived late and she was pissed off with him, and said “Happy anniversary” before leaving, was just her, by herself, thinking of him and saying “Happy Anniversary” to his memory, while his helpless ghost sat by. Other scenes also reveal the real truth, but they fit into the narrative so perfectly and so smoothly that the ending could not be faulted. We could not claim “cheat” or shout “how ridiculous”. It is a perfect example of breadcrumb laying.

Breadcrumbs are the small details, hints, echoes, and moments of foreshadowing that quietly prepare the reader for what’s to come. Done well, they don’t draw attention to themselves at the time. They simply settle into the fabric of the story.

A breadcrumb can be almost anything: a repeated phrase, an unusual object, a passing comment, a moment of hesitation, or a seemingly insignificant decision. Later, when its meaning becomes clear, the story gains a sense of cohesion and inevitability.

The key is subtlety. If a clue feels too heavily signposted, readers may predict the twist too early. But if there are no breadcrumbs at all, major revelations can feel unearned or disconnected.

Breadcrumbs also create emotional resonance. Returning to an earlier image or detail near the ending can give the reader a powerful sense of completion, even in a quiet story.

One useful exercise is to reread your ending and ask yourself: What could I quietly plant earlier to make this land more deeply? Try it and see what happens.

Do you enjoy spotting clues and foreshadowing while reading, or do you prefer surprises to catch you completely off guard? Let me know in the comments at the end of the page.

And before you get to the bottom - just a reminder that I have two events happening soon:

One is Writers Reading Zoom on Thursday 18th June at 7pm UK. The featured reader is Juanita Ozamiz. There are still some reading slots available so please book your free ticket first and then let me know if you would like a slot.

The second is the Zoom launch of Ancestral Virgins, the novel in three volumes by Fiona J Mackintosh. This is on Saturday 30th June at 8pm UK.

More details of both of these can be found by clicking on "Courses and Events" on the menu at the top of this page, where you will be able to get your free tickets.

Until next time, happy writing!

Last week I took a little break for a few days so didn’t post a blog. I had a lovely trip to Berlin where I got to unwind for a bit. But now I am back and talking about writing again..  this week it has been all about the five senses, and how to use them to make your writing richer.
 
One of the quickest ways to make a story feel vivid is to engage the senses. Writers often focus heavily on what a character can see, but atmosphere becomes much richer when we bring in sound, smell, touch, taste, and texture too. The creak of floorboards in an empty house. The smell of rain on a warm pavement - or that smell you get after the rain. The sting of cold air against skin. These details pull the reader deeper into the scene.
 
The key is specificity. A few carefully chosen sensory details usually work better than long passages of description. One striking image or unexpected smell can create an immediate emotional response.
 
Sensory writing can also reveal character. Two people may walk into the same room and notice entirely different things. One notices perfume and candle smoke; another notices damp walls and stale coffee. What we focus on tells the reader something about who we are, and this is the same for your characters.
 
And atmosphere matters. Sensory details shape mood almost invisibly. Soft fabric, distant music, and warm light create one feeling; flickering bulbs, sharp disinfectant, and echoing footsteps create another entirely.
 
If you weave sensory details naturally into your writing, the reader will stop observing the story from a distance and begin to experience it.
 
Which sense do you find easiest to write, and which do you tend to forget? Let me know in the comments below. And, write a short scene where a character is visiting the house of a new friend and has been asked to wait for them in a room. Post what you come up with.
 
Until next time, happy writing

Endings can feel like a lot of pressure. You’ve carried the story this far, and now everything rests on how you leave it. A strong ending doesn’t need to be dramatic or clever, but it needs to feel right.
 
The most satisfying endings grow naturally from what came before. They don’t arrive out of nowhere or try to tie everything up too neatly. Instead, they reflect the journey the story has taken, and the changes that have happened along the way. If you drop breadcrumbs along the way, the ending will be more believable and relatable, rather than coming from nowhere. This just leaves a reader feeling cheated.
 
So, think in terms of movement. What has shifted? It might be something external, but often it’s quieter than that; a realisation, a decision, a small but meaningful change in the character.
 
There’s also something to be said for restraint (I am a big fan of this in an ending). You don’t have to explain everything. In fact, endings are often stronger when they leave a little space for the reader to sit with what’s happened. I like an ending that quietly backs away from what came before.
 
Do you prefer endings that feel neatly resolved, or ones that leave a little unanswered? Let me know in the comments here, and maybe share something – either an ending of your own, or tell me about one of your favourites you have read.
 
If you would like to work with me you can find a link to my events and courses in the menu bar above. And there are also testimonials about my editing work. Have a look around. 
 
I can be with you at both ends of your publishing journey, with a novel course due to start in June, and editing services available to you for short stories and novels. I would love to hear from you.

I have been talking about plot and structure in stories this week. A compelling story isn’t just a collection of moments, it’s a sequence of choices and consequences, and connections that build into something meaningful.
 
Plot is what happens. Structure is how those events are shaped and revealed to the reader. When the two work together, the story feels inevitable and like it could only unfold this way. It changes the narrative from simply "this happened, then this happened, then that happened", and turns it into something engaging. It then becomes "this happened because that happened earlier, and now as a result of this, the following happens" – it all links together in a pleasing and satisfying way.
 
One of the simplest ways to strengthen your plot is to look at cause and effect. Each moment should lead naturally to the next. If a scene could be lifted out without changing anything, it may not be doing enough work.
 
Structure helps you control pacing and impact. Where you begin, where you place your turning points, and how you build toward the ending all shape the reader’s experience. Even subtle shifts you make in an edit, like moving a reveal or tightening a sequence, can make a big difference.
 
It’s also worth paying attention to your key moments. Are the turning points clear? Do they challenge your character in meaningful ways? Do they push the story forward? Readers don’t want your character to have an easy time of it. You don’t need to have them chased by lions, or massive boulders like Indiana Jones, but they need to get a little hot under the collar at times.
 
A strong plot doesn’t feel forced, and a strong structure doesn’t feel visible, but both are quietly doing the work underneath.
 
Do you tend to plan your plot and structure in advance, or discover it as you go? Let me know in the comments.
 
If you would like to work with me you can find a link to my events and courses in the menu bar above. And there are also testimonials about my editing work. Have a look around. 
 
I can be with you at both ends of your publishing journey, with a novel course due to start in June, and editing services available to you for short stories and novels. I would love to hear from you.

Of all the parts of a story, the middle is where things most often begin to loosen. The energy of the opening has settled, and the ending is still out of reach so it can be tempting to drift. But the middle isn’t empty space to cross. You should ideally be treating it as if it’s where the story deepens and earns what comes next.
 
One of the simplest ways to strengthen it is to look at tension. Not necessarily big, dramatic events, but a steady sense of pressure. What does your character want now? What’s getting in their way? If nothing is pushing against them, the story can begin to sag.
 
Momentum comes from cause and effect. Each moment should lead to the next, even in small ways. A choice, a reaction, a shift… these keep the story moving forward and give the reader a reason to stay.
 
This is also where character has room to grow. Let them struggle a little longer. Let them make mistakes. Let them misunderstand things, or choose badly, or hesitate when it matters. Conflict doesn’t always have to be loud to be powerful. It just needs to matter and have meaning.
 
And it’s worth looking closely at your scenes. Are they doing something: moving the story on, revealing something new, increasing the stakes? If not, they may need to be sharpened, combined, or let go. We have all heard the phrase “kill your darlings”. Editing out words that cause lag – no matter how much you love them (put them in a “reuse” file) – is the most important and valuable thing you can do for your writing.
 
A strong middle doesn’t draw attention to itself, but you feel it working. It holds the story together and carries the reader, almost without them noticing, towards the ending.
 
Which part of writing do you find hardest? The beginning, the middle, or the end? Let me know in the comments. I hope you have been enjoying my ramblings about writing craft, which I hope to continue doing daily with more in depth weekly posts like these too.
 
If you have a story (flash or short) or a novel manuscript that needs editing, please consider me for the job. I have lots of experience, both for WestWord and more recently for Fiction Factory, who I complete competition entry assessments for (both short story and novel first chapters). I have worked personally with several authors to get their manuscripts ready for publication. You can find some endorsements for my work at the button below, and you can also explore the rest of my website to see the stories I’ve had published, and to book for any of my courses or events.