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!