B Plot

Whether you’re writing a protagonist, an anti-hero, an antagonist, or a villain, you’ll make them more rounded characters if you include flaws. If your readers can’t relate to or don’t like your characters, you risk alienating them. Let’s examine some ways to keep your audience with flawed characters.

Start by giving them deep hurts that created the flaws. Deep hurts are childhood traumas (abuse, neglect), life-changing events (car accidents, sports injury, workplace injury), being misled by someone (nasty older sibling that hid their university acceptance letter, step-father who was intentionally late to a pro-league try-out, a co-worker who doesn’t share all of the information about a project, so your character doesn’t fully complete the assignment), or trusting the wrong person (loving the wrong person, trusting a stranger who then wounds them, believing someone in authority who turns out to be manipulating them).

Most readers can identify with being lied to, missing an opportunity that would give their career a boost, or missing out on something because someone stopped. Let’s say your character is middle-aged and bitter because the three great opportunities for career advancement were sabotaged. The first by a stepmother who was angry they outshone the stepmother’s biological children. The second from a university professor who stole the character’s great idea and claimed all of the credit. The third from a boss who has consistently promoted other people because the character is ‘too valuable where they are to be promoted.’ These are all related events that inform the reader about how and why your character is so angry and takes the edge off for the reader. Such scenarios also create opportunities for character improvement because they are events that can be reworked, improved upon, and the character can heal from them.

Make the characters human. Some characters have personality disorders. Sometimes, the character chooses not to take medication to address their personality disorder. Sometimes, there is no treatment available. Either way, take the time to show the human side of your character. No one is a jerk 100% of the time. No one is anxious all the time. Use the opportunity to show slices of other behaviours, other facets of the characters life, show them trying to improve and failing, but trying again. Someone with severe social anxiety might spend all their time painting. They might produce beautiful works of art they don’t show the world, but the reader knows they exist.

Remember, a person (and a character) is more than their flaws. A person is more than a personality subset. They have talents, skills, experience, insight, and hobbies. Flesh out some of the other aspects of a person’s life to make the character better-rounded.

Give opportunities for your characters to shine—yes, even the antagonist and villains need moments to shine. Everyone is an expert in something. Sometimes the expertise impacts the plot (great at handling weapons, fantastic strategist, excellent at maths), and sometimes the expertise goes to characterisation (can cook a gourmet meal from anything, can knit a shawl in under a day, has a way with horses). Villains often have the best lines because it showcases their wit and intelligence. Expand on this to ensure every character has a moment to shine.

Create opportunities to show a character’s nuance. Most people have a professional side and a personal side. How you talk with your colleagues often isn’t the same as how you speak with long-time friends. The choice of topic, language, and level of detail is often different between groups of people (co-workers and friends). The same applies to your characters. Your villain might be extremely aggressive towards your protagonist but highly personable with their intimate partner or sibling. Your protagonist might be very reserved at work but incredibly open with their hobby group.

Deeply flawed characters generate opportunities to engage your reader. You can shed light on a different world, provoke reflection and emotional response from your audience. Make sure to make a character more than a flaw, and you’ll bring them to life.

Feel free to reach out on Twitter @reneegendron to continue the conversation. How do you make character flaws relatable?

Thank you, @minday76, for the topic suggestion.

James' and Mirabelle's story will be released in Fall 2021. You can read an excerpt here. If you'd like to receive an advanced reader copy, please join my newsletter with a note "ARC". 

Taking creative risks

Taking creative risks can push your skills as a writer. They can challenge how you structure your plot, develop your characters, and force you to come up with a unique twist.

Here are some pros to taking creative risks:

• you stretch your creativity and imagination
• you strengthen your writing skills
• you develop opportunities to collaborate (reaching out to new people, writing in a new genre, developing ways to cross-promote through blogs, etc.)
• you might discover that you enjoy writing in another subgenre/genre
• taking creative risks can develop into part of your brand

Here are some cons to taking writing risks:

• you might not have the current skill level to do the story justice
• you might alienate some of your readers if you switch genres or take too much of a risk
• the story might be so ambitious that it frustrates you, and you lose your desire to write it
• it can be a blow to your self-esteem to receive negative feedback

There are different types of risks an author can take. You can do something radical with the book cover. The issue with going too far off-genre with your book cover is that your audience might not recognise it and buy it. Many people do judge a book by its cover. If no one stops to read the blurb, they won’t buy it. You can do some A/B testing with your book covers to see which one gains traction. Sometimes, people will be attracted to an off-genre book cover. Other times they won’t. There’s plenty of opportunities to experiment with FB ads, IG, and reading groups.

I write romances, and romances rely heavily on tropes. If I’m reading a historical based in Scotland, readers expect a highlander in a kilt who often falls in love with an English bride. Let’s consider western romances where many stories involve saving a ranch.

I continue to listen to historicals and westerns, among many other books. There’s a certain comfort in knowing how the plot will unfold. I like seeing an unpredictable ending, which isn’t easy considering the sheer volume of stories in which the basic plot is the same: MC1 meets MC2, they need to save the ranch (or defend a Scottish keep), antagonist tries to kill MC1, the black moment between the romantic couple, resolution of romance and non-romance plots, an epilogue with babies.

The great books that stand out (for me) are those with moments of supreme humour (as in I’m walking alone on a highway listening to a book, and I burst out laughing) and unexpected resolution. Humour is fun to write and can push a writer’s skill. An original resolution that resonates is something that takes time, patience, and the willingness to push boundaries.

If you like historical romances, Say Yes to the Marquess by Tessa Dare and Sweet Revenge and The Switch by Lynsay Sands are (in my opinion) unique and funny. If you like contemporary romances, Running Wild by Linda Howard and Linda Jones might interest you. It’s not particularly funny, but it deals with a ranch-based romance that isn’t about saving the ranch (which for westerns is unique).

If you don’t like romances, Thirst by Katherine Prairie is a contemporary mystery with a unique plot. Sing the Four Quarters by Tanya Huff is a fantasy with an interesting plot. Stars Like Cold Fire by Brent Nichols and Duchess of Terra by Glyn Stewart also stand out in the sci-fi space. These books aren’t humourous, but they do stand out.

What’s common about the books I mentioned is that the authors took risks. They pushed the boundaries of expectations and crafted memorable stories. I remember each lot very well because they were different. The authors met my expectation for the genre (romance—the couple has a happily ever after, mystery—is solved, SciFi—has spaceships, fantasy—has second world), and they held my attention, adding something different.

What’s different? Their profession, the conflicts they face, their background, the dynamics of the world, the plot they need to address, humour, and how the couple addresses their interpersonal conflict to address the plot.  

You can push your writing boundaries and still gain an audience if you position your book correctly. Test out the cover to make sure it will be well-received by your target audience. Write a blurb that accurately presents expectations. I wrote an article for A Muse Bouche on how authors have a contract with their readers. The blurb is the establishment of that contract. Ensure it accurately presents the plot and how it fits in the genre, and how you’ve pushed the boundaries.

When an audience has a clear understanding of what they’re getting involved with, they’ll follow you to the end.

Don’t be afraid to take risks—that’s how authors grow.

What creative risks have you taken? Reach out to me on Twitter @reneegendron to continue the conversation. 

I'd like to thank @RCameronThomas for suggesting this blog topic. 

James' and Mirabelle's story will be released in Fall 2021. It's a high heat contemporary romance set in eastern Ontario. 

Ah. Sex scenes. They can be scintillating, pointless, or boring. In this blog post, I’ll go over what makes a great sex scene and things to avoid when writing them.

The first thing about sex scenes is to know their purpose. Sex for the sake of sex bothers readers because it doesn’t add to the story. Sex needs to further characterisation, advance the plot, and serve a purpose in the book.

If your character is running away from the antagonist and your MC is dodging bullets, they don’t have time for sex. It makes no sense to duck into a warehouse, find some random person, have sex, then run away, narrowly escaping enemy agents, spies, aliens, or whatever else you throw at them.

Sex must advance the plot. If you’re writing erotica, in which sex is the plot, the type of sex (location, heat, partners, etc.) must define the characters. Some characters are shy, and their personality will influence locales and types of sex. Other characters are more forward, and how and when they choose to have sex must reflect their personalities.

How can sex advance the plot?

• relieve tension (Only if it’s not a chase scene. No one has sex while driving away during a car chase)
• demonstrate a level of commitment in a relationship (particularly true for romances)
• serve as an internal conflict for the characters (intense attraction towards one another vs problems with committing to a relationship because of unresolved issues)
• demonstration of characterisation (an MC uses another person for personal gratification, develops a romantic relationship, etc.)

Where do you place sex scenes in a book? Usually, except in erotica, after the midway point of the book.  Why? The reader needs time to understand your world and character. If you place a sex scene too early in a book, the reader won’t understand its function.

Sex scenes work best as a counterpoint to other plot points. They can follow a moment of intense emotional intimacy or a spot where the characters feel confident they will accomplish their goals (and then after sex, things fall apart in many ways). Or sex scenes can serve as complications. For example, your MC finds out the person they just slept with is married with children. Additional complications include their spouse is pointing a loaded shotgun at your MC, who is still naked in bed. To give your MC a terrible day, have the spouse be in organised crime, and your MC is heavily indebted to them. Not an ideal time to renegotiate the terms of the loan, eh?

The second thing about writing sex scenes is to understand your genre. Do people expect to read a sex scene in a ____ book, and if they do, what degree of heat do they expect? Most genres lend well to sex scenes, but it hinges on how well you’ve set up the story and expectations. You set expectations by having a clear blurb and back cover. If you hint there is high heat (explicit sex), readers will know what to expect. Readers who don’t like high heat won’t buy your book (and that’s okay).

How do you set up the heat levels (to manage reader expectations?) Sexual tension. Sexual tension is defined by how much (or not) your character notices the love interest. The more your MC pays attention to the love interest, the more prepared the reader is for a high heat scene. If, however, you play down those reactions, the reader is prepared for a kiss scene or a fade to black scene.

Let’s compare two examples. The first is from my short story Frontier Love in my collection Heartened by Crime.

Mr Adams stood tall and proud, the tip of his nose red, a blue scarf pulled tight around his neck. “Here.” He reached out and cupped her hands, bringing them inside of his cloak.

Heat surged through her body. Curse her mittens and his clothes for being in the way. This must be why English ladies swooned.

**

Andrée-Anne (the FMC) is formal with her love interest—Mr. Adams. His gesture of placing her hands in his cloak is chivalrous and innocent by today’s standards. However, for Andrée-Anne and her period (colonial Canada), it is a provocative act.

 Here’s another scene from the story:

She retrieved a shirt from the basket on her feet and frowned. She held her gaze on the stitching, enjoying the sensation of Mr Adams’ gaze settling on her. The tug to look at him turned into an irresistible pull.

“Whoever stitched these,” she said, “did a poor job. The stitches couldn’t have lasted more than a day or two.”

“It’s a way of guaranteeing repeat business.”

“It’s lousy business.” Her brows knitted together. “Better to be known for good work than poor work.” She threaded her needle.

His gaze was still on her, warm and curious. A tingle raced down her spine and settled low at her centre.

**

There’s an attraction, but it’s quite innocent.

As a writer, you could amp up the attraction, build up the heat (explicitness) as the story progresses, making a high heat scene expected and welcomed.

There’s the option of a fade to black scene or alluding to sex. Mary Robinette Kowal’s Glamourist series does this exceptionally well (fade to black). Sherrilyn Kenyon’s The League series has excellent examples of high heat sex scenes.

Here’s the opening of Indebted to You in Heartened by Crime:

A splinter of awareness crept into Leigh’s thoughts. She lay on a comfortable bed, someone’s breath warmed her neck, and a protective hand rested on her hip. She lay naked, pressed against another naked body. A firm one at that.

Last night. Ah. The blond in the bar she had met while playing darts. The man with the seductive eyes, athletic body, and tongue that should be worshipped as a religion.

She sighed happily, then eased away from Steve’s embrace. Or was it Samuel? No. Something more unusual. Stockwell. His name was Stockwell.

“Where are you going?” He tightened his grip around her.

“I have to go to work.”          

“At least let me make you breakfast.”

She turned to face him, took in his angled features and the hunger in his eyes. “I have to go.” She leaned forward, pressed her lips against his for the briefest of moments, and pulled away, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

**

The previous night’s sexual encounter was implied but not described in detail. When sex is nonexistent or is inferred, the book is considered low heat.

The more you increase sexual tension, the more the reader expects explicit sex.

You can increase sexual tension by:

• having the character increasingly notice things about the other person
• create intimacy by sharing secrets or insights only with the love interest
• create a sense of familiarity (finishing each other’s sentences, preparing coffee the way she likes it, etc.)
• being kinder or harsher towards the love interest (kinder if they are pursuing a relationship, harsher if they are actively avoiding getting into a relationship but can’t seem to fight the attraction)
• inside jokes
• a shared experience that only the love interests have

I’d like to mention a third point when writing a sex scene, focus on the emotions, not the mechanics. Readers will need general information such as location and position, but they don’t need every single motion. If you add emotion, you’re deepening characterisation.

Here’s an excerpt from James’ and Mirabelle’s story. It’s a contemporary romance I aim to release in 2021. It doesn't have a name because titles come last for me. I do know the name of the series, however. This is book one of the Outdoorsman Series. It’s written but not fully edited. All errors will (I hope) be corrected by release. That said, it’s a reference point for how to write explicit sex scenes.

*

Firm hands held her hips, keeping in her place, he licked her slick folds. He flatted his tongue against her. Wet, soft, tender. Bliss.

Bright energy coiled inside of her, tightening and twisting, racing up every nerve ending. Every sense focused on him. Gentle sucking noises drowned out all sound of existence. His masculine scent, a musk that was uniquely James. His hair tickled the inside of her thigh, and that one spot on his cheek he’d missed shaving electrified her skin. His fingers spread under her, in control but gentle. His hair still glistened from their shower, now tussled from her fingers.

She shifted left; he stayed with her. She squirmed, he laughed. She shied away; he pulled away. She arched against him; he stuck his tongue out, letting her roll her hips — seeking, feeling, on the point of breaking.

A thread snapped. Muscles spasmed in delight, sending cascading pleasure through her.

Breath fled on a sighed, “James.”

***

How will this article affect how you write sex scenes? Reach out to me on Twitter to continue the conversation @reneegendron

Throughout my life, I’ve written a lot. I started writing historical fiction, poems, and fantasy. All of the words were, quite frankly, flat. I turned my attention to romance about seven years ago, and my stories improved. What follows is my opinion and my opinion only and keep in mind that I write 50% romance arcs and 50% non-romance arcs. As someone from my writing club recently mentioned to me, he was surprised that I classify myself as a romance writer because of all of the non-romance things in my books.

I think there’s stronger character development when a romance arc is included. All romance books have two layers of development. The first layer of development occurs at the character level. If there is one POV, then that character must address and overcome personal trauma or internal conflict before they can turn their attention to their romantic counterpart. If there are two POVs, then both characters must have personal insights to address individual problems.

When part of the book focuses on the internal character development, the character seems fuller and more relatable (at least to me). Everyone has been hurt. There’s at least one childhood event that still stings or makes you ashamed or impacts you to this day.

Maybe you were told you had to be perfect and came to the brutal (but liberating) realisation that you aren’t perfect (as all humans aren’t perfect). In trying to be perfect, you overwork, you stress, you surpass expectations to the point where other people don’t want to work with you because you make them look bad.

Maybe you were told something about your appearance and have struggled to accept and love yourself for your inner and outer beauty.

Whatever hurt, you left a mark. It’s the same with characters in romances. They need to work their way through whichever trauma or pain and earn their happily ever after.

The second layer of conflict is what keeps the lovers apart. A difference in politics, socio-economic classes, life goals, etc., must be overcome and reconciled before the couple can have their happily ever after.

This leads me to my next point. I enjoy writing stories with happy endings. A romance can have a happy-for-now ending, but most end with a happily ever after. If the ending is sad (a tragedy), then it is not a romance. Instead, it’s a love story.

There are many options when writing external conflict. There’s the conflict between the lovers that keeps them from their happily ever after. There’s the non-romance conflict. What are the characters doing? Are they going on a quest and have to battle horrible weather and harsh terrain? Are they at a ball where they need to navigate politics and social norms and gossips and competitors for a lover’s attention? Are they marching off to war to face an ancient enemy?

The non-romance arc (even in traditional romances, there is a non-romance arc) is both an independent and dependent opportunity for character and romantic relationship growth. In traditional romances, the non-romance arc has fewer words dedicated to it. Again, I strive for 50/50 romance and non-romance arcs.

By independent opportunity, I mean each character faces unique challenges. They must learn a new skill, adapt to circumstances, or defeat a foe. The characters must also learn to cooperate and grow as a couple. In the non-romance arc, characters test their resolve to help the other, develop the relationship, and cement the fact they are a couple.

I find these textures of conflict interesting to read (well, listen. I listen to 99% of my books) and write. I enjoy writing the nuances of how a similar deep hurt (let’s say low self-esteem caused by body issues as a teenager) manifest differently in adults. Each character is unique in their efforts to overcome. 

Romances pair well with every genre. You can have a romantic medical thriller, a romantic fantasy, a romantic dystopian cli-fi. Name the genre you and can always pair it with a romance arc.

I write a lot. A _lot_. More than 2.9 million words, a lot. 

I promise my readers a new story (not written to formula) each and every story. With the diversity of romance tropes and the ability to plug it into any genre, I find it stretches my writing scope. Combining different tropes (romance and non-romance) across genres flexes my writing skills and helps me create unique situations.

Romances can speak to the human element. They speak of deep heartaches, misery, overcoming trauma, and finding a way to live a full and enriched life. And, I have to admit, writing the sexual tension between the characters is fun.

What do you like about romances?

Reach out to me on Twitter @reneegendron

Thank you to @DanFitzWrites for the topic of this blog.

Before I share my editing process with you, let me start with the caveat that I’m not a line editor. I can’t tell a dangling participle from a gerund. The process I’ll outline below is my process. You have no obligation to try it or force your way of thinking into the holes and squares I’ll describe.

For me, the editing process starts with the outline. I’m an extensive plotter. I need to know how the story ends before I start. My outlines are point-form and run 50 to 100 pages. Each outline is broken down by chapter, which indicates the POV, the central emotional, character and plot beats, conflict, and dilemmas that character faces in that chapter. I then go point-form the action, scenes, and bits of back-and-forth dialogue for each chapter.

I must know the deep hurts of the characters, some of their back story (though I will discovery write quite a bit of their back story and learn about the characters as I write), and what keeps the lovers apart.

I’m a romance writer, and my stories always have at least two layers of conflict.

The first layer is internal. These are past personal traumas unique to each character that make them unable or unwilling to enter a romantic relationship. These traumas are also obstacles to the non-romance plot. For example, a character might have been spurned by a previous lover, and they are reluctant to trust in the romantic sense and trust the other person to help them resolve the non-romance plot.

I write 50% romance and 50% non-romance arcs, and that means my characters are busy. They are solving mysteries, going on adventures, spying, beating back an enemy, ruling kingdoms, and generally doing good things for the sake of doing good things.

The second layer of conflict is what prohibits the characters from a romantic relationship. Sometimes this is dependent on solving internal conflicts first. Other times, it’s an antagonist, different beliefs, societal expectations, or other constraints the characters need to navigate and reconcile before solving the romance and the non-romance arcs.

Once I have the non-romance trope, and the romance trope sorted out, I write. [I will prattle on for hours and/or pages about tropes, but I will refrain from doing so on this blog post. I hope you appreciate the restraint I’m exercising. However, if you want to listen to me talk about tropes and mechanics, you can do so here].

My first drafts are full of bobbleheads and Cheshire cats. My characters smile at everything—drying paint, the pattern on the rug, the dust in the wind. Why? For me, a smile or a grin or a curved cheek or a twist of the lips is a place holder for an action that has meaning for the character. Meaning for a character could be a mannerism, a reaction to dialogue, an internal thought, observation or something that deepens characterisation.

Let’s take the original sentence of a western historical romance I’m writing. Below is the first version:

Before: Ruthanna released a slow breath. Nerves. Bertram was shy. She smiled inwardly. A bad encounter with a business associate added to the weight of being shy. A sliver of hope to meet the man from the letters.

The words don’t pop off the page, but the reader understands the character is nervous about meeting a woman. There’s a smile, but it doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t add emotion or characterisation.

On my second edit, I changed the passage to:

After: “Meaning what?” Maybe Bertram was shy. Shy types always did better in quiet settings. Shy types had their allure.

It’s a stronger sequence because we know her thoughts, and there’s a touch of sexual tension between her and the man she’s having dinner with. She’s willing to give him a chance because she’s intrigued by him.

With the first draft done, my characters need to visit the chiropractor for all of their bobbleheads, and they need to take elocution lessons because they all sound the same. That’s fine. It’s part of my process.

What concerns me most in the first draft if is the pieces fit. Do my chapters have strong hooks? Do my characters face enough exciting and complex problems that drive the story? Is there enough sexual tension between the romantic leads? Are there any sagging bits or places where I’ve wandered too far?

I’ll usually recognise those places as I’m writing and make notes to correct them on the second draft.

If writing is all that I do for the month, I can write an 80-100k novel. Is it in good shape? No. Is it better than the drafts I wrote a year ago? Yes. Why? Something about practice making things better. That, and black liquorice and beer. Again, that’s another post.

I’ll let my second draft sit and work on the draft of another story. Weeks, sometimes months later, I’ll revisit it. Sometimes the edit is after an alpha reader (a person who reads the first draft of a novel to critique the direction and tone of the story and not the prose) and points out major plot holes and boring characters. That’s what I ask of alpha readers. Does the story, no matter how poorly worded, work?

On the second draft, I set to the task of improving prose, eliminating bobbleheads and nervous twitches (which in romances tend to be smoothing skirts or eyebrows. At least my romances on the first-go-round). In the second draft, I’ll infuse differences in speech, bring out the internal conflict and dialogue more, and focus on sharpening the banter. I try, sometimes succeed but often fail, at increasing the tension in dialogue. Sometimes, I’ll write jokes.

In the second draft, I’ll focus on backstory. Over seven years, I’ve written 34 books, none of which are published. That said, I’ve gotten better with the years and the millions (no word of a lie—2.9 million words written, excluding drafts of the same book) of words I’ve written at reducing back story. Right now, in the first and second drafts, I’ll have three to four sentences of backstory. This means I’ll not infodump or write a character’s autobiography. I keep a character’s backstory short and sweet.

Example:

Almost thirty years of marriage and Mama never once mentioned demanded Pa greet them at train stations or keep his appointments with them. Not one word of disappointment, not one angry look, not one dinner spent in silence. It was always smiles that reached unhappy eyes, and ‘yes, dear’, and ‘we’ll make the best of it’ and let’s drag out trunks across the mud in search of Pa’s tent. 

That passage comes at the 25% mark of a western historical romance. What does that passage say to you? Does it show why the woman is reluctant to enter a relationship with the man? Does it show why the woman wants to retain her financial independence?

I’ll keep tweaking those sentences to see how much further I can condense them while retaining their emotional power. Emotional power is defined as relatability with the reader and insight into character.

During my revisions, I’ll see if those are necessary or if they need more power.

Then the story is off to the beta readers to check on transitions, hooks, and intrigue. There must be appealing sexual tension between the characters, and there must be tension in the non-romance plot. The readers need to have some degree of nervousness about whether the characters will achieve their non-romance goals.

It then becomes a cycle. The more I write and study craft (yes, I take lessons from NYT and USA Today bestselling authors, writers who have more talent and skill than me, and workshops through professional associations), the better (I hope) I become. Yes, that sentence was wordy. Yes, I need a line editor. Yes, I’m a work in progress.

I cycle through beta reads, courses, and my versions until I develop a finished product. When I have a finished product (to my non-line-editor-eyes), I put it on the shelf and save it for professional line edits. I haven’t yet reached that point, but I sense that 2021 is the cusp. My goal in 2021 to have one full-length fantasy romance novel (A Gift of Stars) professionally editor and released. My stretch goal is to have a second book (western historical romance or contemporary romance) professionally edited and released by 2021.

Here’s to lofty goals, strong sentences, characters with purpose and poise, and hooks that keep the readers flipping pages.

What is your editing process? Reach out to me on Twitter @reneegendron for a conversation.

The question I received from @LouSchlesinger that inspired this piece was about an overall editing process.