Monday, August 25, 2025
Book Lover, Reviewer, Proofreader
Monday, August 18, 2025
Bad Movies Can Teach You a Lot About Good Writing
RiffTrax and Mystery Science Theater 3000 have been riffing and making fun of bad movies for over thirty-five years now. As a big fan of both, I have watched almost four hundred episodes and soaked up the horrible writing. (And horrible acting, special effects, etc.)
So, here is a list of things I have learned, along with examples from the RiffTrax/MST3K collection.
Every scene should have purpose
Random scenes that don’t further the story or add to character development have no place in a story. We can’t throw in an event or character that serves no purpose or slows down the flow.
Examples:
Hellcats has a dancing scene that is not only bad, it adds nothing to story. (Except for the guys singing along with their own lyrics – “I am losing my dignity!”)
Lost Continent has a rock climbing scene that goes on and on and on.
Both scenes needed to go!
Plot needs to stay on track
Subplots can be woven into the main story but be sure they doesn’t stray so far from primary plot that readers forget or get confused. Keep focused on the path leading to the ending.
Example:
Birdemic has so many plots and things going on – driving scenes after driving scenes, stock options, dating this girl, the birdemic – which doesn’t even happen until halfway into the movie. This film is all over the map.
Make sure the main plot is the focus!
Edit for inconsistencies
Do characters change names or appearances? Do people appear when they should be somewhere else? Keep a detailed list of all characters and events to keep them straight.
Example:
In Space Mutiny, a woman dies and later appears in another scene.
Again, watch for those inconsistencies.
Eliminate factual errors
Details matter. Readers are savvy and will know when you haven’t done your research. Make sure to know the history, how things work, etc.
Examples:
In Bloodwaters of Dr. Z, the scientist develops a formula that can turn a person into a catfish-like creature. Yes, a catfish. Not possible! Even stretching the imagination.
In Werewolf, all it takes is a scratch to turn one into a werewolf. Granted, werewolves are made up, but pretty sure it takes a bite.
All actions need to make sense
Make sure when a character does something, he would really do that. Would a person in that position do that? And action scenes sometimes push reality, but it still has to come together and make sense logistically.
Example:
In Plan 9 From Outer Space, one of the deputies scratches his head with the barrel of his gun.
No law enforcement is that dumb!
Characters need to grow and change
Readers are invested in the main characters and they need to evolve over the course of the story. If they don’t change, if things just happen to them, it won’t matter how good the plot.
Example:
For this one, I going outside of my two sources. World War Z – Brad Pitt’s character is exactly the same from beginning to end. The zombies don’t change him one bit.
Characters must change, for better or worse!
Dialogue needs to be good and flow well
Reading dialogue out loud is a great way to catch clunky phrases or unnecessary repetition. Would a person really say that? If it sounds odd when you say it, chances are it is awkward.
Example:
In Cave Dwellers, most of the dialogue is awkward. From every character. The lines were obviously the first thing someone spouted off.
Polish that dialogue!
Understand your reader’s expectations
Every genre comes with standards. Elements readers expect. A story also has to unfold as it was initially described, not stray off into another area or genre altogether.
Example:
Gumby the Movie – the title alone should pull up visions of what to expect. Wrong! There is a really dark element to the film. Plus Gumby and Pokey were created by an alien. From there, it only gets weirder.
Cater to your audience – don’t alienate them.
Write what we love
Are you writing what you love or in a genre that you just know will make money? When the passion isn’t there, it will show on the pages.
Example:
Atlantic Rim was a blatant ripoff of Pacific Rim. And it shows – the movie is just awful. The writers just went for a cash grab.
Write for love not money!
There you have it! And if you don’t believe me, go ahead and watch those riffed movies. I dare you.
What have you learned from watching bad movies?
Monday, August 11, 2025
Plot Devices: When, How, and Whether to Use Them
Most readers can spot a plot device from a mile away. You know the kind of stuff I mean—those narrative techniques that move the story forward but sometimes feel a little too convenient. The overheard conversation, the suddenly discovered letter, or the long-lost relative who appears just in the nick of time to solve a problem. I read a book in June where the whole book hinged on two characters not telling each other one important fact from the beginning of the story to the end. It was a sort of miscommunication trope. A frustrating one.
Plot devices aren’t always a bad thing, though. They’ve been used in stories for centuries. But how they’re implemented can make the difference between a reader rolling their eyes or quickly turning pages.
Common Plot Devices and Reader Reactions
These plot devices appear frequently in fiction, with varying reader responses:
• The coincidental meeting - Characters “happen” to cross paths at just the right moment
• The eavesdropped conversation - A character overhears exactly the information they need
• The hidden document - A letter, will, or diary conveniently reveals crucial information
• The sudden skill - A character possesses exactly the ability needed in a crisis
• The timely arrival - Help arrives precisely when all seems lost
Readers tend to accept these devices more readily in certain genres. It might be a harder sell in literary fiction than commercial fiction.
Making Plot Devices Work
The key to using plot devices effectively is making them feel organic instead of contrived. Here are some ideas:
Set them up beforehand: If a character needs lockpicking skills in chapter ten, mention their misspent youth in chapter two.
• Create logical circumstances: If characters need to meet, put them in situations where such meetings make sense—community events, shared connections, or common interests.
• Add complications: Instead of having the hidden letter solve everything, let it create new problems or only provide partial answers.
• Acknowledge the convenience: Sometimes a character saying, “I can’t believe our luck” acknowledges what readers are thinking and defuses potential eye-rolling.
• Focus on character reactions: How someone responds to convenient information might matter more than how they obtained it.
When to Avoid Plot Devices
Some situations call for steering clear of obvious devices:
• When they solve problems too easily without any emotional cost
• If you’ve already used other devices in the same story
• When they undermine the established rules of your story world
• If they make your protagonist passive rather than active
Finding the Balance
Moderation and careful implementation is important.
Does this device move the story forward?
Is there a more organic alternative that would work?
Have I prepared readers so this doesn’t feel like it came out of nowhere?
Does this preserve the challenges my character needs to face?
Readers will forgive plot devices that lead to satisfying emotional payoffs. If the overheard conversation leads to a character confronting their deepest fears, readers are more likely to accept the convenience.
What are your thoughts on plot devices? Do you have favorites you enjoy as a reader, or ones that always make you groan?
Bestselling author Elizabeth Spann Craig weaves Southern charm into her cozy mystery series, featuring everything from quilting guilds to library cats. A lifelong mystery lover who grew up on Nancy Drew and Agatha Christie, Elizabeth has published over sixty books across five series. She shares writing tips on her blog and lives in Western North Carolina with her family and their corgi. Follow Elizabeth at elizabethspanncraig.com
Wednesday, August 6, 2025
Dog Days of Summer IWSG Day
Monday, July 21, 2025
Who’s Your Real Audience?
Let's welcome Mary Kole back with answers I've needed for years. Thank you, Mary!
By Mary Kole
Recently, a writer friend posed a question that stopped me mid-scroll: What do you do when you write about teens… but not for them?
It’s a deceptively simple question. You’d think we’d have this figured out, given how many of us write middle grade and young adult stories—but often, the lines get blurry. Especially if your newsletter or social media is read mostly by adults, parents, grandparents, teachers, librarians, or booksellers. Especially if you don’t have a teenager in your house. Especially if your own teenage years feel emotionally present but logistically distant, like a fuzzy VHS tape of someone else’s ‘90s teen dramedy.
Let’s break it down. Because when we say “audience,” we’re often conflating three different things:
1. The Intended Audience
This is who your book is “for” in traditional publishing terms, otherwise known as the reader age group the story is meant to resonate with. If you're writing YA, it's fourteen-plus but, more likely, sixteen-plus. If you're writing middle grade, it's typically between eight and twelve, with some outliers in the thirteen and fourteen-year-old “gray area.” (This is where we get into modified MG, like “early” and “older” middle grade.) Easy, right?
This is where the article should end, but many writers know the truth is a little bit more complicated. We also have…
2. The Actual Readership
In the real world, many YA books are read by adults. Depending on the source, figures can reach as high as 55% of YA novels getting consumed by adults over thirty. And a lot of middle grade is consumed aloud by parents, teachers, librarians, or nostalgic grown-ups chasing the feeling of Harriet the Spy or A Wrinkle in Time. YA, in particular, is known for quick pacing, resonant stakes, and high emotions close to the surface. It’s easy to consume (though you won’t find me arguing that it’s easy to craft—that’s a longstanding publishing misconception that has haunted books for this age group).
I’m not talking about “crossover” titles like The Book Thief here, either. Those are the rare books published and packaged for several distinct categories (or target audiences), a decision usually made pre-release internally at a publishing house or after initial publication when a title just so happens to appeal across reader age ranges.
This is not, inherently, a problem. It just means that when you write about kids or teens, your audience may include—but won’t be limited to—people who are actually those ages. That’s true even if you're writing with full integrity toward your characters' emotional truths. I’m not sure I would consciously aim to address adults in MG or YA writing, as this can lead to some decided category no-no’s like inhabiting adult POV or going too deep down the rabbit hole of adult problems.
So we have your primary audience, the secondary “shadow” audience who’s also dipping into these books, and, finally…
3. The Marketing Audience
This is the trickiest one, and it’s where most writers get themselves tangled into multiple mental pretzels. The marketing audience means who’s buying your book, who’s reading and engaging with your posts, who’s on your mailing list, and who’s showing up at your events (or at least driving the minivan to them).
And let’s be real: If your followers are mostly fellow writers, bookish adults, teachers, librarians, or parents, your marketing persona is going to feel out of step if you pretend you’re talking to an actual fourteen-year-old. (Especially since kids younger than thirteen are technically and legally not supposed to have social media accounts, though we all know they still access these networks through their parents’ phones, or lie about their age to sign up for TikTok. Still, one could argue that they’re mostly not there to consume bookish content, as much as some of us wish this wasn’t the case.)
So what do we do with that disconnect?
Embrace the Split
You don’t have to pick just one audience. You just need to stop pretending they’re all the same.
You can write for young readers and still talk about your work in terms that attract adult readers and, more importantly, gatekeepers. Not literary agents or acquisitions editors this time, but the adults buying the books and stocking them in classrooms, school libraries, and bookstores. Because in children’s books, your end user (the reader) is often not the same person who pulls out the credit card and places the order.
What does this mean from a craft perspective?
You can explore teen characters with care and craft and discuss that process with grown-up readers who remember how formative (and messed up) those years were. You can market to the people who love kidlit, even if they no longer technically qualify as the target readership.
You might write about teens, but you shouldn’t write for those same teens on Substack. Instead, you can write for people who are interested in how stories are made, how voice works, how characters grow, and how we metabolize our younger selves through fiction. That includes other writers, readers, editors, and sometimes the occasional lurking third grader. (Hello! Keep reading books!)
While this has long been called a marketing problem, it can also be an opportunity to split your author and marketer self, as well as to tailor the various activities you do and conversations you have online so that all of the various segments of your future fans have something to enjoy.
Final Thought: You’re Not Doing It Wrong
If you’re feeling awkward about who your “real” audience is, it’s probably not because you’re confused—it’s because you're trying to be honest. The industry doesn’t always leave room for that. But you can.
Here are some useful questions to ask yourself as you both draft and market your work:
- Who is this book about?
- Who is this newsletter for?
- Who do I hope connects with this piece (whether it’s a novel or a newsletter article)?
Sometimes the answer will fall under the three different groups identified above. But that’s not a problem. That’s a Venn diagram. And it’s where you can empower yourself to exist more intentionally in the kidlit world.
Monday, July 14, 2025
Why Scene Mapping Is Your Secret Weapon
You’ve done it. You’ve typed “The End” on your zero or rough draft. Maybe it’s a messy, chaotic pile of ideas. Maybe it only kind of resembles a novel. Either way, congratulations are in order — because finishing a draft of any kind is a huge milestone.
But now what?
That post-draft moment can be overwhelming. You know the story isn’t done, but diving right into edits without a game plan can feel like trying to rebuild a house while you’re still living in it. This is where scene mapping becomes your best friend — and your secret weapon.
What Happens After You Have a Zero or Rough Draft?
A zero draft (sometimes called a discovery draft) is your story in its rawest, most instinctual form. It’s often full of plot holes, dropped threads, inconsistent characters, and tangled pacing — and that’s perfectly okay. Its job was to exist, not to be perfect.
Once that first version is out of your head and onto the page, you’re ready for a different kind of work: structural clarity. Before you can revise well, you need to understand what’s already there. Scene mapping lets you do exactly that.
Author Note: My Scene Mapping Journey
I outlined Ghostwalker: Katje Storm Chronicles, Book 1 (Paranormal Women’s Fiction–Midlife) as a 150-word short form on Medium, which grew into 82 serialized posts. That became my first zero draft.
But the story still wasn’t clear.
So I started over, reshaping those skeletal scenes into something fuller—still under 10,000 words. In truth, I wrote two zero drafts: one long and exploratory, one lean and focused.
Reading it through, I saw logic gaps, underdeveloped scenes, characters that needed to go, and others begging for the spotlight. Worldbuilding emerged naturally as I told the story to myself from start to finish.
To get clarity, I built a story bible. It gave me focus, themes, and even a clearer ending.
Then I broke each scene into cards using Google Docs. It’s my way of crafting a fully fleshed first draft—without shutting down the pantser inside me.
The template below is what I use to track pacing, purpose, and momentum.
Why Scene Mapping Works
Think of scene mapping as laying all the puzzle pieces of your draft out on the table so you can see what’s missing, duplicated, or doesn’t quite fit. It’s not about line edits or prose yet — it’s about understanding the architecture of your story.
Mapping your scenes helps you:
Visualize the flow of the narrative
Track your protagonist’s emotional or character arc
Identify scenes that serve no clear purpose (or serve the same purpose as five others)
Spot missing beats in pacing, cause and effect, or rising tension
In other words, it turns the chaos into something you can work with.
How to Map Your Scenes Step by Step
There’s no one right way to do this. The best method is the one you’ll actually use. Here are three approaches that work well for different types of writers and thinkers:
Spreadsheet Method
Great for analytical minds who like structured overviews. Create a spreadsheet with columns such as:
Scene Number
POV (if multiple characters)
Location
Word Count
One-sentence Summary
Purpose (plot, character, theme, etc.)
Conflict or Tension
Outcome or Decision
This method is especially helpful if you're tracking arcs, timelines, or chapter balance across multiple drafts.
Index Card / Sticky Note Method
Perfect for visual and tactile learners. Write each scene on a separate card or sticky note. Lay them out on a table, wall, or corkboard.
Move scenes around to experiment with flow
Identify where tension rises or falls
Visually cluster related scenes (e.g., by subplot, POV, or theme)
Remove or combine redundant beats
It’s flexible, intuitive, and great for spotting patterns and gaps.
Kanban Board Method
Ideal for writers who like visual project management tools (like Trello or physical whiteboards). This method lets you track the status of each scene as you revise.
Set up columns such as:
To Review
Needs Rewrite
Needs Expansion
Cut / Combine
Good as Is
Then write each scene on a digital card (in tools like Trello, Notion, or Scrivener’s corkboard view) or a sticky note and move it across the board as you work. You can color-code scenes by POV, plotline, or emotional arc for extra clarity.
This approach turns your messy draft into a living revision workflow. Plus, it feels incredibly satisfying to drag a scene into “Good as Is.”
What to Look for Once You’ve Mapped It
Now that you’ve got a bird’s-eye view, here’s what to check:
Scene Purpose: Does each scene advance the plot, deepen a character, or raise the stakes?
Flow and Momentum: Does each scene build on the last? Or does the story stall?
Character Arcs: Can you see change happening? Do key turning points show up?
Redundancy: Are you repeating emotional beats or exposition?
Missing Scenes: Are there gaps in logic, setup, or payoff?
Scene mapping helps you diagnose before you rewrite. It's a story triage.
From Mapping to Meaningful Rewrite
Mapping doesn’t mean you have to scrap your draft. In fact, it often shows you that less needs to change than you feared — just more strategically. You’ll rewrite with intention, not overwhelm.
It also makes external feedback easier to use. Instead of vague critiques like “The middle is slow,” you’ll know which specific scenes are dragging — and exactly how they fit in the bigger picture.
In Closing...
Scene mapping isn’t just a tool — it’s a lens. It helps you see the story you’ve already told, and gives you the confidence to shape it into the one you meant to tell.
You already did the brave thing by writing the draft. Now let this be the strategic thing that turns it into something powerful.
P.S. I’ve created a free Scene Mapping Template you can use to jump-start this process. Download it [here].
Your Turn: Do you map your scenes? What’s your favorite method — spreadsheets, sticky notes, something else? I’d love to hear your approach in the comments!
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ABOUT
Juneta WRITES SPECULATIVE FICTION that is Evocative, Mythic, a little Magical, Adventurous, and somewhat Humorous! Come Explore Her Worlds.
She loves writing about Grumpy Old Gods, Space Opera, Paranormal Women’s Fiction & Sci-Fi Fantasy adventure, mysteries, and romance with all the complexity of human nature mixed in, whether human or non-human, mage, mystic or pilot. Stories that involve the mythology born of living and the shadows that make us all heroes, anti-heroes, villains, and poets. Learn More.