How do you get better at writing fiction fast? You identify your strengths and weaknesses.

  

How do you get better at writing fiction fast? You identify your strengths and weaknesses.

 

Let’s say you’ve been writing a little while. You’ve figured some things out. You understand the basics. However, you feel like your writing isn’t what you want it to be. You can’t seem to push it forward. Let me give you some advice that might help.

 

Recently, I was listening to a famous football coach talk about how teams build an identity; it made me think about writing. Coaches obsess over figuring out what the identity of their team is. They want to lean into their strengths and protect their weaknesses. Eventually, they want to find an identity and use it to put themselves in a position to be successful. 

 

Take a simple example; say you’re great at dialogue.

You might be the kind of writer whose characters just start talking in your head. You hear their rhythms, their half-finished sentences, their awkward pauses. You know how two people can say “I’m fine” five different ways and mean five different things. On the page, your dialogue crackles. Beta readers say, “I love listening to your characters talk,” or “I flew through that scene because the conversation felt so real.” Nice things like that.

 

That’s me. I love dialogue. I can do all kinds of things with dialogue.

 

If you recognize that you’re good at dialogue you might:

• Use more dialogue-driven scenes rather than long internal monologues.
• Let conflict unfold through conversation instead of exposition.
• Trim narration and allow characters’ words to reveal tension, backstory, and desire.
• Create suspense through certain conversations.

 

 

Suddenly, your strength isn’t just “something you happen to be good at.” It’s an engine that drives your storytelling. You make intentional choices that help you use dialogue to propel your story forward, develop character, setting, plot. 

 

If you identify you’re good at description or humor or tense situations that create suspense or whatever, you can intentionally put more of what you’re good at in your novel. You can use what you do best to write better stories.

 

Then there’s the other side. What do you do poorly? Maybe you struggle with pacing or description. You keep trying to get better, of course. But understanding what doesn’t come as easily for you (and most likely you don’t enjoy as much) will help you. Also, understanding you struggle with some aspect of writing might help you understand how to improve it. For example: DESCRPITION.

 

You know the room your character walks into. You can see it clearly in your head: the crooked blinds, the ugly carpet, the stack of dishes in the sink. But on the page, you write:

She walked into the kitchen and sat down. You aren’t present in the imaginary room you imagined.

SO, no sensory detail, no sense of place. The scene could be set anywhere, and your reader feels it. They’re not grounded. They feel like they’re floating in white space, listening to voices with no bodies in a room with no walls.

 

So you pay attention to this and you make sure they’re grounded. You do it even if you can’t make it really strong. You don’t try to write long, flowery descriptive passages. Instead, you focus on short, precise, functional details.

• That way, you’re not ignoring a weakness; you’re containing it. You do enough to keep readers grounded without repeatedly shining a spotlight on an area where you’re less confident.

This is the heart of writer identity: you don’t pretend you can do everything equally well. You build around what you do best, and you design strategies to keep your weaknesses from derailing the work.

Learning your identity as a writer might mean realizing:

• You write tight, clear prose but struggle with complex plots.
• You’re great at internal monologue but shy away from action scenes.
• You have a gift for worldbuilding but your characters feel thin.
• You’re strong on structure and theme but your line-level writing is flat.

None of these are fatal flaws. 

Lean into strengths

• Become someone who writes character-driven stories, or twisty plots, or atmospheric settings.
• Choose projects that suit your natural tendencies instead of always fighting against them. Certain genres favor fast-moving narratives with sharp dialogue. Others favor long descriptive scenes.
• Train your weaknesses—strategically
• Study authors who do well what you struggle with and imitate small pieces.
• Ask readers for specific feedback: “Did you feel like you were in the room?” “Did the scene feel slow?” “Could you picture this character?”
• Design around your blind spots
• If pacing is hard, outline more deliberately.
• If endings are hard, sketch them early and write toward them.
• If description is weak, make a checklist for revision: “Can I see the room? Hear anything? Smell anything?”

 

The point isn’t to lock yourself in a box and say, “I am only this kind of writer.” The point is understanding your weaknesses and strengths can be a superpower when you’re writing, especially in revision.

 

When a team can identify strengths and weaknesses they know which situations favor them and which don’t. They’re still imperfect, but they know who they are, and that makes them more equipped to handle various aspects of a game.

 

When you identify your strengths and weaknesses you will become a better writer.

How To Become A Better Writer: READ. Read anything you want, anything you enjoy. Just Read.

 How To Become A Better Writer: Read. 

I read for pleasure first--because the experience of reading is one of the things I love about this world. But I'm a writer so I also read with an eye to how another writer does something well.  I try to learn. 

 

For example, I look at this sentence that opens A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving and I think WOW. And then I think--what makes it so good? It does a lot of things in one sentence, but I think, more than anything it makes me want to know Owen Meany and, to a lesser degree, the narrator. It's a great opening and it immediately attracts me to the characters. I want to know more.

 

"I am doomed to remember a boy with a wrecked voice—not because of his voice, or because he was the smallest person I ever knew, or even because he was the instrument of my mother's death, but because he is the reason I believe in God; I am a Christian because of Owen Meany."

 

"doomed" (a powerful word that makes us think of fate and tragedy), a boy with a "wrecked" voice and "smallest person I ever knew"---give the beginning of this sentence almost a mythic quality, and there is something about wrecked that has the echo of forces beyond us. Shipwreck--for example. And he's not just a "small" person but the "smallest person I ever knew"--Here it's a bit like a fairy tale. In all these sentences there’s the sense that this story is larger than itself, whatever itself will be. 

 

And then the next line: "the instrument of my mother's death"--not that he killed her exactly (though we’re not sure). More vague and yet full of mystery and more involved than just being a part of it --"the instrument". How was he the instrument? What does instrument mean in this context? We want answers to this question and it is always good when a writer gets a reader wanting answers to questions she's posed directly or indirectly in the text. So this is yet another thing that this sentence makes me think about.

 

As a reader you might not be aware of all the things going on here but you will be sucked into the story and that’s what you need on page one of your

 

This sentence makes me want to read on because I want to know more about Owen Meany and the plot. Thewriter already has me hooked on character and story and I haven't even finished the first sentence.

 

OK, onward------Then the "but" and we turn the corner. All of these interesting and strange things that Owen Meany is, as interesting and compelling as they are, are not the reason our narrator is "doomed" to remember Owen. This is a thrilling moment in this sentence. We've been brought to it by the choice of words, the compelling information, the rhythm of the clauses...not because, or because, or even because... THEN but because he is the reason I believe in God.

 

What? I didn't see that coming but when it comes it seems just right...all of this is about faith and this will be a book about faith. You don't have to be a Christian to feel that this is right. Faith or the lack of it, is at the heart of who we are.

 

I learn a lot from reading other writers. Sometimes I learn just from reading one sentence.

How To Write A Novel. 1. Do not listen to the doubters, even if you are sometimes one of them

 Don't Listen To The Doubters

Inspiration is great, but it can’t be depended upon. On the other hand, perspiration is something much more predictable. You show up, and it shows up.

                                                ***

“Crap,” says The Little Doubter in my mind. He jumps right out and sits in the gold chair across from me. He is small and has a distinct resemblance to an imp. The unkind kind.

“F*** off,” I say.

You can’t be too easy on your subconscious.

“You’re writing crap,” The Little Doubter says. “This is all crap. You should hit delete. Delete the whole thing and give up writing. I hear they’re hiring at that hamburger place with the funny hats.”

“They all have funny hats.”

He slouches in the chair; he needs a shower; his clothes could use a good washing. I don’t like looking at him.

“The one with the funniest hats.”

“At least I haven’t given up,” I say.

“Let’s watch bad TV, eat ten desserts, drink until we can’t see, and just forget all about making these little marks on a blank page. You’re no good at it; you have a sweet tooth. I bought those cookies you love.”

True. This is why you have to watch yourself around your subconscious. They are tricky and they know you.”

“I don’t think so,” I say.

The truth is, I have to write. Writing, most days, gives me purpose, and it fulfills a need in me. I’d write even if I were never paid a cent.

I turn to tell him that I am going to write no matter what, but the yellow chair is empty. He gets me. He really does. Not this time though. Not this time.

Step 12 to building a novel. Discovery Writers, Check This Out! 1-12 Steps To Write A Novel

 https://www.amazon.com/Building-Novel-12-Steps-Discovery-ebook/dp/B0FSHQ9QF1?ref    

Chapter 12 

Step 12: Final Inspection - Grammar, Flow, and Reading Aloud

You’ve reached the final phase of building your novel. The structure is solid; the details are in place, and now it’s time for the final inspection.

This fourth draft is about polishing your prose until it shines, ensuring the reading experience is smooth and immersive. It’s about fixing the squeaky floorboards and touching up the paint—the small imperfections that, if left unaddressed, might distract from the overall effect of what you’ve created.

Here’s how to approach this final draft:

Read aloud: You really need to do this! Read your entire manuscript aloud, either to yourself or using text-to-speech software. Your ears will catch what your eyes miss. I prefer to use text-to-speech software with a mechanical-type voice. It’s just what works best for me. Look for these the following:

· Awkward phrasing

· Repeated words or sounds

· Missing words, phrases, or wrong words

· Unintentional rhymes

· Run-on sentences

· Dialogue that doesn’t work

· Inconsistent tense or point of view

 

The Grammar and Mechanics: Now is the time to address grammar problems. Use grammar-checking software if you like, but remember it’s a tool, not a replacement for your judgment. Sometimes, grammar rules should be broken for style or effect.

 

· Proper punctuation

· Consistent formatting for thoughts, emphasis, text messages, etc.

· Correct use of commonly confused words (their/there/they’re, etc.)

· Properly formatted dialogue

· Consistent spelling (especially of names and places)

· Appropriate paragraph breaks        

Flow and Rhythm: Check your prose.

· Vary sentence length for rhythm and emphasis

· Break up overly long paragraphs

· Ensure transitions between scenes and chapters are smooth

· Use sentence fragments and run-ons intentionally, not accidentally

· End chapters and sections with sentences that have impact

        

The Checklist Method: Create personalized checklists of your common writing weaknesses.:

· Overuse of “just,” “very,” and “suddenly”

· Too many sentences beginning with “He” or “She”

· Characters nodding, sighing, or shrugging too frequently

· Repetitive sentence structures

· Unnecessary dialogue tags

Use your word processor’s search function to find and evaluate each instance.

 

Consistency Check: One final review for consistent details:

· Character descriptions (eye color, height, etc.)

· Timeline (seasons, days of the week, character ages)

· Setting details (distances, room layouts, etc.)

· Special terminology within your story world

 

The First and Last Impressions: Give extra attention to your opening pages and final chapter. These create the strongest impressions for readers:

· Does your first page establish voice, character, and situation effectively?

· Do the first few pages raise questions that compel readers to continue?

· Does your ending provide satisfaction? Do you leave room for more story if you’re writing a series?

· Have you cut any unnecessary epilogue that weakens the impact?

 

The “One More Thing” Trap: Be wary of the urge to keep making “just one more change” indefinitely. At some point, you need to declare your novel complete.

 Congratulations:

After this final draft, your novel won’t be perfect—no novel ever is—but it will be the best you can make it at this point in your writing journey. It will be ready for others to read.

This is a moment to celebrate. You’ve done something extraordinary. You’ve built a novel from nothing, discovered its shape as you wrote, and refined it into something that others can experience and enjoy.

The process I’ve described—from breaking ground to final inspection—has focused on craft, not art. I’ve talked about structure, technique, and process because these can be taught. But the spark that makes your novel uniquely yours—that comes from you alone.

Trust that spark. Nurture it through each draft. Let it guide you when rules and advice fail.

And remember that every novel you write teaches you how to write that novel—usually just as you’re finishing it. The next one will be different. You’ll make new mistakes and discover new strengths.

That’s what keeps things interesting. It has kept me interested for decades, and I expect it will keep me interested until the end.

Building a novel is never simple, especially for discovery writers. It’s messy, challenging, and sometimes frustrating. But it’s also one of the most rewarding creative acts possible. You create worlds and people from nothing but imagination and perseverance.

So, go build your novel. Make it sturdy. Make it beautiful. Make it yours.

Building A Novel in 12 Steps: Especially for Discovery Writers

 https://www.amazon.com/Building-Novel-12-Steps-Discovery-ebook/dp/B0FSHQ9QF1?ref

Chapter 11

Step 11: Detail Work: Polishing Language and Character

You’ve built the structure. You’ve created a cohesive story. Now it’s time for the detail work that transforms a functional manuscript into a compelling one. This is your third revision—where good writing becomes good storytelling.

Think of this phase as adding the elements that make a house a home. The walls are up; the roof doesn’t leak, but now you’re installing the beautiful staircase, the perfect light fixtures, the crown molding that makes each room distinctive.

Here’s what to focus on in your third draft:

Powerful Dialogue: Good dialogue does multiple things simultaneously—it reveals character, advances the plot, creates subtext, and sounds authentic. Review your conversations with these questions:

· Does each character have a distinctive voice?

· Is the dialogue free of unnecessary exposition? We do not want that.

· Does the subtext (what’s not being said but exists just beneath the surface) create tension?

· Have you cut small talk and mundane exchanges?

Try this exercise: Take a crucial dialogue scene and rewrite it three different ways—one where both characters are honest, one where both are hiding something, and one where they have completely different understandings of the conversation. Even if you don’t use these versions, they’ll help you find the most compelling approach.

Deepening Characterization: By now, you know your characters well. Use that knowledge to add layers:

· Give important characters distinctive habits, expressions, or perspectives

· Ensure secondary characters have their own motivations, not just serving the protagonist

· Add moments of internal contradiction—people are rarely consistent

· Show characters through the eyes of others for a fuller picture

· Create moments where characters surprise the reader, yet remain true to themselves

Scene Dynamics: Each scene should have its own arc of tension and release. For important scenes, identify:

· The power dynamics at the beginning and how they shift

· The goals of each character in the scene

· The obstacle or conflict that creates tension

· How the scene changes the story situation

· The emotional impact on both characters and readers

Emotional Impact: This is where many technically competent manuscripts fall short. For pivotal moments, ask:

· Have you earned this emotional beat through proper setup?

· Are you allowing readers to feel the emotion rather than just describing it?

· Have you varied emotional notes throughout ?

· Are you using physical sensations to convey feeling?

· Have you avoided melodrama and sentimentality?

For each important emotional scene, identify the primary emotion you want readers to feel. Then, make sure not to name that emotion directly in the scene. Show everything around it, but let readers supply the label themselves.

Setting as Character: Bring your locations to life:

· Appeal to all five senses, not just the visual, when describing…

· Show how settings reflect or contrast with characters’ emotions

· Make settings dynamic—changing with weather, time, circumstances

· Use settings to create mood and atmosphere

· Include specific, vivid details that only someone who’s been there would know

I definitely think of Eden, the town, in my series Strangely Scary Funny as a character. If your setting is important (as it is in fantasy, horror, and sci fi in particular) consider thinking of it as a character when you’re bringing it to life.

 

Language Precision: Now’s the time to make every word count:

· Replace generic verbs (“walked,” “said,” “looked”) with more specific ones when it adds value

· Cut adjectives and adverbs when strong nouns and verbs can do the work

· Vary sentence structure and length for rhythm and emphasis

· Eliminate pet phrases and words you overuse

· Make metaphors and similes fresh and relevant to your story world

Beginnings and Endings: Polish the most important parts of your novel:

· Does your opening immediately engage with character, conflict, and/or question?

· Does your ending provide emotional satisfaction while reflecting the journey of your story?

· Have you cut unnecessary preamble or epilogue? Watch out for this, especially in the beginning.

The Rule of Three: In storytelling, three is a magic number. Important concepts, images, or phrases often benefit from appearing three times throughout your manuscript—first introducing, then developing, finally culminating. Look for opportunities to create these patterns.

The Unexpected Turn: Review each chapter for predictability. Where can you add a twist, revelation, or surprise that keeps readers engaged?

Clarity Check: Make sure readers will understand what’s happening without being spoon-fed:

· Have beta readers or an editor identify confusing passages/ these are often hard for the author to identify.

· Clarify without over-explaining

· Make sure important information stands out from background details

This level-of-detail work is demanding, but it’s also deeply satisfying. You’re no longer wrestling with big structural problems—you’re crafting moments, creating beauty, adding depth.

Don’t try to perfect everything at once. You might go through the whole manuscript or sections focusing on one aspect, such as dialogue or description (adding sensory details, which almost always helps), or emotional beats or what’s at stake in a scene.

By the end, your manuscript should feel like a real book—one that pulls readers in and keeps them engaged from beginning to end. You’ve moved from builder to craftsperson. Your novel isn’t just standing; it’s taking on character and charm.

There’s just one more step to go.

 

 

For Discovery Writers: Step 10, How to Build A Novel, The Second Draft

 Chapter 10: The Second Draft - Bringing the Story into Focus

With the major structural issues addressed, it's time for your second draft. This is often where your novel starts to feel like a real book rather than a collection of scenes.

The second draft is your opportunity to refine the entire manuscript with the incredible advantage of knowing the complete story. When you wrote the first draft, you were discovering. Now you're shaping with purpose.

Think of it this way: your first draft was like walking through a forest at night with a flashlight, seeing only what was directly in front of you. Now you have a map of the entire forest. You can see which paths connect, where the dead ends are, and how to create the most compelling journey.

Here's how to approach your second draft:

Start at the Beginning: Unlike the targeted revisions of your major renovation phase, the second draft means going through your entire manuscript from page one. You're creating a cohesive reading experience.

The Through-Line: With your complete story in mind, strengthen the narrative thread that pulls readers from beginning to end. Every scene should connect to this through-line, either advancing the plot, developing characters, or building your world in ways that matter to the outcome.

Foreshadowing and Payoff: You know  your story now. You can look for places to Reverse Engineer.  You can create foreshadowing. For example, let’s say you know that on page 88 the two main characters kiss. SO you want to lead the reader to this important moment in the development of their relationship by some progression. You can create foreshadowing for the reader because of what you know will happen later in the novel The Art of Setups and Payoffs: Make a list of every major reveal, twist, or climactic moment in your story. Then ensure each has adequate setup. Conversely, check that every setup has a satisfying payoff. Readers notice when you promise something and don't deliver.

Strengthening Character Arcs: Ensure your characters' growth (or deliberate lack thereof) follows a convincing progression. Now that you know who they become by the end, you can make their journey there more believable and compelling.

Finding the Balance Between Showing and Telling: Discovery writers often switch between showing and telling somewhat randomly in first drafts. In your second draft, make strategic choices:

Show (through scene, dialogue, and action) when:

·       A moment has emotional significance

·       An interaction changes a relationship

·       A character makes an important decision

·       Something happens that changes the course of the story

Tell (through summary and exposition) when:

·       You're bridging between important scenes

·       You need to convey background information quickly

·       The details would be repetitive or unnecessary

·       You're intentionally creating distance for stylistic reasons

·       CONTRARY, to the advice of many writing books you do not always need to show rather than tell…

Pacing Adjustments: Modify the rhythm of your story by expanding important moments and condensing less crucial ones. Add scenes where the story moves too quickly for emotional impact. Trim or cut scenes where the energy drags.

Consistency Check: Ensure details remain consistent throughout—character descriptions, abilities, timelines, settings, rules of your world. What was nebulous in your first draft must become concrete now.

Strengthening Beginnings and Endings: Pay special attention to chapter beginnings and endings. Each chapter opening should raise a question or create tension that propels readers forward. Each ending should satisfy while prompting readers to continue.

The Language Layer: While you're not focusing primarily on line-by-line prose yet, start shaping your novel's voice more consistently. If certain passages sing while others fall flat, begin bringing everything up to your best standard.

Cut Mercilessly: Most first drafts are too long, not too short. Be ruthless about cutting:

·       Scenes that duplicate the same purpose or emotional beat

·       Extended passages where nothing changes

·       Clever writing that doesn't serve the story

·       Characters who could be combined or eliminated

·       Subplots that don't connect meaningfully to the main story

I always challenge myself to cut at least 10% from my first draft, and I've never regretted a single cut once the manuscript was finished.

The Read-Aloud Test: As you revise each chapter, read portions aloud. Your ear will catch problems your eye misses—awkward phrasing, repetitive sentence structures, dialogue that doesn't sound natural.

What if you're still discovering significant aspects of your story during this draft? That's normal for discovery writers. The second draft often reveals deeper layers of meaning and connection. Remain open to these discoveries while maintaining focus on creating a cohesive whole.

By the end of your second draft, your novel should have:

·       A clear, compelling narrative arc

·       Consistent, developing characters

·       Logical plot progression

·       Appropriate pacing and tension

·       A cohesive thematic resonance

·       A satisfying balance of setup and payoff

Does this mean your novel is ready? Not quite. But it should now be recognizably the book you want it to be, even if it needs further refinement.

The second draft transforms your raw material into a real novel. It brings your story into focus. The remaining drafts are about making that image sharper, clearer, and more vivid.

You're getting there. Keep going.