When you’re building a world full of invented cultures, magic systems, creatures and political structures, it’s tempting to capitalise everything that feels Important.

But the truth is that using too many capital letters can make your prose look very cluttered, and it frequently brings emphasis to the wrong words.

So how do you decide when an invented word in your story should be capitalised?

A surprisingly useful trick is to imagine your fantasy language has been translated into ordinary English.

If the English version would normally have a capital letter, then your invented word probably should too.

If it wouldn’t, then you should probably leave it lower-case.

The “translated into English” test

When readers encounter unfamiliar terminology, they rely heavily on context. Capitalisation helps signal whether something is a proper noun – a specific place, title or group – or just a general concept.

A good rule of thumb is to ask yourself: “If this was a normal English word, would it be capitalised?”

For example:

• The Order of the Silver Star – yes, because it’s a specific organisation.
• Queen Alara – yes, because it’s a title used with a name.
• the northern kingdoms – probably not, unless it’s an official political entity called the Northern Kingdoms.
• magic – no, because it’s a general concept.

Now apply that to invented terms.

If you create the word thalren to mean a type of magical energy, it probably shouldn’t be capitalised.

But if the Thalren are a specific religious order devoted to that energy, then capitalising the group name would make sense.

In other words, the rule isn’t about whether a word is invented. It’s about what role it plays in the sentence.

A common capitalisation mistake

Here’s the kind of sentence you often see in early drafts of fantasy novels:

Kael drew on the Ancient Power of the Eldren Flame as the Guardians of the Crystal Path prepared to defend the Western Gate from the Shadow Beasts.

Nearly every concept has been capitalised. The result is visually cluttered and difficult to follow.

Readers start wondering whether each capitalised word represents something specific they should remember – and this in turn increases cognitive load which will slow them down. Effectively, it’s a barrier to reader enjoyment.

A cleaner version might look like this:

Kael drew on the ancient power of the Eldren Flame as the guardians of the Crystal Path prepared to defend the western gate from the shadow beasts.

Now only the genuinely specific terms remain capitalised.

You might even reduce it further, depending on how those terms function in the story.

Why using too many capitals hurts your writing

Over-capitalisation causes several problems.

1. It creates visual noise. A page filled with capitalised nouns looks dense and intimidating, especially for readers who are still learning your world’s terminology.
   
   
2. It confuses hierarchy. Capital letters signal importance. If everything is capitalised, readers can’t easily tell which terms actually matter.
   
   
3. It breaks immersion. Instead of smoothly absorbing the story, your readers will stop to wonder whether a capitalised word is a Proper Thing that they need to remember. In other words, using too many capitals accidentally turns your prose into a glossary.
   
   
4. It’s quite shouty! When I read in my head, I read capitalised words more loudly. Which means a Sentence With A Lot of Capitals Ends up Being quite Shouty.
   

Fantasy readers are used to new vocabulary. What they need is clarity, not constant signalling that a word is special.

When capitalising made-up words does make sense

Capital letters are useful when they indicate something that’s clearly defined or unique within the world.

Common examples include:

• Named organisations
• Official titles when used with names
• Specific places
• Historical events
• Cultural or ethnic groups

For instance:

• the Council of Nine
• High Marshal Ren
• the Ashen Desert
• the War of Broken Crowns
• the Valeri

These follow the same patterns already used in everyday English.

If your world has a king, that’s lower-case.

If it’s King Ardan, that’s capitalised.

Your invented terminology should behave the same way.

Capitalising made-up words in fantasy and science fiction: A simple rule

When deciding whether to capitalise an invented word, ask yourself three quick questions:

1. Is this a specific, unique thing rather than a general concept?
2. Would the English equivalent normally be capitalised?
3. Will capitalisation help readers understand the hierarchy of my world?

If the answer to those questions is no, leave the word lower-case.

Your readers don’t need capital letters to know your world is important. The story will convince them of that far more effectively.

And ironically, the fewer capital letters you use, the more powerful the remaining ones become.

In fantasy writing, restraint often makes your worldbuilding feel more real – not less.

Still confused about capitalising made-up words in fantasy and science fiction novels? Please get in touch – I’d be delighted to help.

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If you’re a novelist looking to bring your story to life, it’s important for you to learn about playing with narrative distance. Playing with narrative distance may sound like an abstract term, but actually you can just think of it as a camera lens that zooms in and out, allowing you to reveal your imagined world from both a closeup and a pulled back perspective.

What is narrative distance?

Narrative distance is the space between your readers and your characters. In some moments, you’ll want your readers to be right next to (or even in the shoes of) your characters, letting them see what they are seeing, hear what they are hearing, smell what they are smelling, and even give them access to what your characters are thinking. At other times, you might pull back and look at the bigger picture, giving your reader a wider sense of the world around them, or a sense of distance from a situation.

The best part? By learning how to play with this narrative distance, you can enhance your storytelling and control the emotional tone of your scenes.

Zooming In: Getting Close to Your Character

When you zoom in on your character, you’re getting so close that you can feel their emotions, sense the world around them, and even hear the thoughts racing through their mind. This deep connection allows your reader to become immersed in the character’s inner world, creating intimacy and empathy, and ensuring your readers are really invested, and really engaged.

So, how do you pull off this technique? Here are a couple of ways:

1. Focus on Sensory Details:

Describe what the character is experiencing through their senses. What are they touching, seeing, smelling, or hearing? When you zoom in, these details will feel more immediate and personal. Take care not to use filter words like heard, saw, observed, realised, felt. The example I always give is this:
He heard a dog bark – this is telling your readers that your character can hear a dog bark.
A dog barked – this is showing your readers that a dog is barking, and lets them hear it for themselves.

2. Use Deep Point of View/Free Indirect Speech

Instead of narrating events from a distance, let the character’s voice dominate. Free indirect speech (FIS) lets your character’s thoughts flow directly onto the page, blending the point of view character’s thoughts with the narrative.

For example:
He wondered whether it was going to rain or snow, and couldn’t work out what was going on with the weather. This is telling us that the character is wondering what is going on. This is distant – it’s being described to us.
“What is going on with the weather?” he wondered. “Is it going to rain? Or snow?” This is closer, showing us what he is thinking, using direct thought.
What on earth was going on with the weather? Was it going to rain? Or snow? This is really up close – you are inside the character’s head, experiencing his inner dialogue.

This makes readers feel like they’re experiencing everything right alongside your character, in real time.

Zooming Out: Creating a Broader View

When you zoom out, you shift your focus away from your character’s personal experience and move it to the world around them. This technique is great for providing context or setting the scene, or moving things on quickly using a summary of events. You can reveal the landscape, describe a bustling city street, or show how your character fits into a bigger picture. By pulling back, you allow your readers to see how everything connects.

Here are some methods to zoom out effectively:

1. Shift to a Larger Scope

Instead of focusing on the character’s immediate emotions, show the setting, the environment, or the larger conflict at play. This gives the reader a bird’s-eye view of what’s happening.

2. Multiple Points of View

If you’re writing in third person, switching to a different character’s perspective can offer a more detached view of the situation. You might show how your main character’s actions fit into the greater plot, or how others are reacting to the same event.

3. Use Abstract Descriptions

Rather than describing things from a personal perspective, you can make use of broader, more abstract descriptions. For instance, instead of saying “She was nervous,” you might describe the stormy weather or the sense of unease in the room.

Example showing the difference, using a Romance/Fantasy extract

Firstly, zoomed out:
The evening air was crisp, with a hint of magic that hung in the wind. Tall, dark trees stretched out over the path, their branches almost seeming to whisper in the fading light. The world around her felt both vast and unknown, as if time itself had stopped for just a moment.

And then zoomed in:
The cold air bit at her skin, but it was the magic that sent a shiver down her spine. Her heart raced, maybe from the chill or maybe from the strangeness that lingered in the air – something ancient, something powerful. She reached out, fingertips brushing the rough bark of the nearest tree, and for a brief moment, the whispering winds seemed to speak directly to her.

Why Does Narrative Distance Matter?

Why you should bother with all this shifting of perspective? Using both close and wide narrative distances allows you to control how your reader experiences your story. Close-ups build tension, emotional depth, and connection, while wide shots offer a sense of scale, context, and anticipation.

This is especially important when your novel involves complex emotional journeys (romance; romantasy) or grand, sweeping adventures (fantasy; romantasy; sci-fi). By manipulating narrative distance, you can heighten the emotional stakes in romantic scenes or make the fantasy world feel larger and more immersive.

How to Use Narrative Distance in Your Writing

If you want to play with narrative distance in your fiction, try writing the same scene using both techniques. Start with a zoomed-in, deeply personal moment, and rewrite the scene, giving your readers a bigger perspective by pulling the camera back. This will help you learn how to switch between the two as you write, enhancing the experience for your readers.

Whether you’re writing the first kiss of your romantic fantasy, or the moment your character realises their destiny, changing your narrative distance will help you craft a more dynamic and engaging story.

Final Tip for Playing With Narrative Distance

Don’t be afraid to experiment with these techniques within one scene. You don’t have to stick to one narrative distance throughout a scene or a chapter. The beauty of storytelling is that you can zoom in for those intimate moments and then pull back to reveal the bigger picture. Your readers will thank you for it! If you’d like support with your manuscript please do get in touch.

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1. Word Count Shapes Everything

One of the most obvious differences is word count. A short story typically sits anywhere from 1,000 to 7,500 words, with flash fiction coming in even leaner and novelettes pushing the upper edge. A novel, by contrast, usually starts around 60,000 words and can comfortably climb past 100,000 depending on genre. (See graphic below for more details on word counts – and note that different sources cite different numbers!)

The different word counts force choices. In a novel, you have the option to explore ideas – to pause for some backstory, to let scenes breathe, to take the scenic route to add depth. Although there is no space for indulgence in either option, it’s even more important for a short story to ensure that every single word counts. Each sentence must either move the story forward or deepen the reader’s understanding in a tangible way – and ideally they should do both.

2. Fewer Characters, Sharper Focus

Short stories tend to work best with a limited cast. One central character is common, two or three is manageable, and anything beyond that is going to dilate the impact. Novels, on the other hand, can afford characters who exist primarily to complicate the protagonist’s journey or reflect different facets of the theme.

This means that when writing a short story, characters often arrive on the page already formed. There’s no room for lengthy introductions or gradual development arcs. Instead, writers rely on implication – a gesture, a line of dialogue, a single decisive action. In a novel, character development is cumulative. Readers get to know people over time, through repetition and change, rather than instant clarity.

3. Subplots – Less Is More

Subplots are another major dividing line. A novel can juggle multiple narrative threads, weaving romance, rivalry, mystery and personal growth into a single story. Those subplots add texture and momentum, giving readers reasons to keep turning pages.

A short story rarely benefits from more than one plotline. In most cases, the story is about a single moment of change or revelation. Adding subplots adds clutter to an already small space. The power of short fiction comes from concentration – one problem, one emotional core, one turning point.

4. Hit the Ground Running

Short stories demand that the reader hits the ground running. There’s no warm-up chapter, no gentle easing into the world. The opening paragraph has to establish tone, context and tension almost immediately. This is why short stories often begin right in the middle of the action or emotional conflict (also known as in medias res).

Novel openings still matter, of course, but readers will have a little more patience. A writer can spend time establishing the setting or hinting at what’s to come. In short fiction, the setup needs to be brief and efficient. If the reader doesn’t feel anchored within the first few paragraphs, the story risks losing them entirely.

5. Short stories vs novels – Compression of Time and Space

Short stories typically cover a compressed timeframe – a single day, an hour, even a few minutes. Novels can span years or generations. This compression affects technique in subtle ways. Scenes in short stories often double up (or triple up) on purpose, carrying plot, character and theme all at once.

Settings work the same way. A short story might take place in one room or one street, while a novel can span the world. When you’re writing short, you choose details that resonate. One carefully chosen object can replace a full paragraph of scene-setting.

6. Endings Without Full Resolution

One of the most liberating differences is the ending. Short stories don’t necessarily need to resolve everything neatly. In fact, many of the most memorable examples end on an image, a line of dialogue or a moment of realisation that leaves the reader thinking.

Novels generally promise a stronger sense of closure. Even if every question isn’t answered, the central conflict is usually resolved in some way. Short stories can end with ambiguity, trusting the reader to sit with uncertainty, to imagine what happens next.

7. Reader Expectations and Emotional Impact

Readers approach short stories and novels with different expectations. A novel is a commitment. Readers settle in, ready to invest time and attention. A short story is more like a sharp conversation – intense, focused and often emotionally concentrated.

This changes how you handle emotional beats. In a novel, emotions can rise and fall gradually. In a short story, the emotional arc is steeper. You’re often aiming for a single, resonant impact rather than a sustained journey. That’s why short stories linger – they hit hard, and they stay with the reader for days to come.

Short Stories vs Novels – Key Takeaways

Writing short stories is excellent training for novelists. It sharpens your sense of economy and teaches you to trust implication over explanation. Writing novels, meanwhile, helps short-story writers understand structure on a larger scale and avoid under-developing ideas that need more space.

Neither form is easier or harder – they’re simply different. Understanding those differences allows you to choose techniques that serve the story rather than fighting against the limits of the form.

I edit short stories and novels, from vignettes and flash fiction under 1,500 words, through short stories and novellas, right up to sweeping epics that clear 200,000 words – if you are looking for an editor, please do get in touch.

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But what is free indirect speech, why does it matter, and how does it improve reader engagement?

What Is Free Indirect Speech (FIS)?

Free indirect speech is a narrative technique that blends direct speech (what a character says) and indirect speech (what the narrator reports). Instead of clearly marking thoughts or dialogue with quotation marks or reporting verbs, free indirect speech slips into a character’s mind while maintaining the narrator’s voice.

For example:

• Direct speech:
  “I can’t believe he left me,” Kay said.
• Direct thought:
  “I can’t believe he left me,” Kay thought.
• Free indirect speech:
  How could he have left her? How dare he? After everything she had done!

Notice how the last version feels more immediate. We’re in Kay’s head, but the narration still flows naturally. The result is intimacy without breaking the rhythm of storytelling.

Why Writers Use Free Indirect Speech

Writers use FIS to create a closer bond between the reader and the character. It does several things at once:

• It keeps narration fluid while sneaking in personal thoughts.
• It allows for subtle shifts between an outside perspective and inner emotion.
• It helps avoid clunky tags like “she thought” or “he wondered”.
• It mirrors real human experience – we don’t narrate our own thoughts formally, we just think them.

This technique is especially powerful in novels where you want your characters to be accessible and easy to read – such as YA, for example.

How Free Indirect Speech Enhances Reader Engagement

How does FIS get readers properly engaged?

1. It Builds Emotional Connection

When readers can “hear” a character’s inner voice, they empathise more deeply. Instead of being told that a character is sad, angry, or delighted, we feel it in real time.

2. It Improves the Flow

Rather than pausing the story with clunky phrases like she thought that…, FIS slides naturally into the character’s perspective. The pacing stays smooth, keeping readers hooked.

3. It Feels Natural

We rarely experience life in neatly packaged sentences. Our minds skip, judge, and exclaim. FIS captures that messy reality, making characters feel more human.

Examples of Free Indirect Speech in Action

Let’s look at some made-up examples to see how it works.

• Direct speech: “This house is enormous,” Tom said.
• Direct thought: “This house is enormous,” Tom thought.
• FIS: This house was enormous!

Here’s another:

• Direct speech: “I’m not nervous,” Mia whispered.
• FIS: She wasn’t nervous. Not nervous at all.

These examples show how FIS pulls us inside the character’s mind without breaking narrative immersion.

Practical Tips for Writers

If you’re a writer looking to use FIS, here are some strategies:

1. Keep an eye on quotation marks. They signal direct speech, which might break the effect.
2. Use the character’s vocabulary. Narration should slip into their voice – a teenager’s inner thoughts will sound different from a professor’s.
3. Blend seamlessly. Don’t announce thoughts with “she thought”. Just let them emerge in the flow.

Common Pitfalls to Watch Out For

Like any technique, free indirect speech can be misused. Be mindful of these traps:

• Overuse. If every sentence slips into a character’s head, readers may lose track of the bigger picture.
• Confusion. Make sure it’s clear whose perspective we’re inhabiting – otherwise readers get disorientated.
• Tense. The tense of the FIS needs to match the tense of the narrative. So if your novel is written in the past tense, the free indirect speech needs to also be in the past tense. If it was direct thought, it would be in the present tense, the same as dialogue.

Why Readers Love It

Readers may not consciously recognise FIS, but they feel its effects. They stay engaged because:

• The narrative feels alive.
• Characters feel real, flawed, and relatable.
• The reading experience feels immersive – almost like eavesdropping on someone’s thoughts.

In other words, FIS gives readers exactly what they want: a chance to step into another consciousness and see the world differently.

Final Thoughts

Free indirect speech is one of the most powerful tools a writer can use to engage readers. By blending narration with inner voice, it creates intimacy, immediacy, and subtlety. Don’t forget that your editor can help you to include more free indirect speech in your writing. If you want more information, please don’t hesitate to get in touch!

The post Free Indirect Speech: The Secret to Reader Engagement appeared first on MandaWaller.

So, you’ve just written the words “The End” on the final page of your novel, and are now wondering if your manuscript is ready for professional editing. Firstly, give yourself a huge pat on the back. Getting to the end is a huge achievement. Many people dream of writing a book, but far fewer see it through to a complete draft.

Hiring an editor is an investment, and you’ll get the best value from that investment if you send your manuscript at the right point. In this post, I’ll walk you through the signs that your novel is ready (and the signs it’s not quite there yet).

Why Timing Matters for Novel Editing

Professional editing isn’t about handing over a rough pile of words and expecting someone to “fix” it for you. Instead, think of editing as a collaboration. You bring the story – the heart and the voice and ideas – and your editor helps you shape it into the best possible version of itself.

If your manuscript is too early in the process, you risk wasting money on feedback you could have given yourself with one more round of self-editing. If it’s too polished, you may have overworked it and lost some of your original spark. The sweet spot lies in between.

Step One: Have You Finished a Full Draft?

It might sound obvious, but you’d be surprised how many writers want to start the professional editing while still midway through chapter twelve. A professional line edit or developmental edit is done on a complete manuscript. Until you’ve reached “The End”, your story is still in motion. And an editor can’t meaningfully assess a book that hasn’t fully unfolded.

Please note that although editing is done on a completed draft, you should probably start looking for an editor well in advance of this! Many of us book up months in advance, so as soon as you think you might be needing an editor at some point, please do get in touch!

So, first checkpoint: have you finished a full draft, beginning to end? If not, and you think you need editorial support, then you are best off looking for a book coach (also known as a writing coach) rather than an editor.

Step Two: Have You Revised It Yourself?

Finishing a first draft is brilliant, but let’s be honest: first drafts are usually messy. They’re where you figure out your characters, test plot twists, and often leave notes to yourself in square brackets like [insert something clever here]. That’s perfectly fine.

But before an editor sees it, give your manuscript at least one good self-edit. Here’s what to look for:

• Plot holes: Does the story make sense from start to finish?
• Consistency: Do your characters behave in line with their personalities? Does the setting stay consistent?
• Unnecessary repetition: Have you said the same thing in three different ways? (See my blog post about redundancy.)
• Basic typos and formatting: Don’t worry about perfection, but tidy up obvious errors. Listening to your manuscript out loud can really help with this.

A self-revised draft doesn’t have to be flawless, but it should be coherent and readable.

Step Three: Have You Had Some Distance from It?

Editing your own work is difficult when you’re too close to it. Every writer knows the feeling of reading the same sentence fifteen times and still not noticing a missing word.

That’s why it’s wise to step away for a little while before considering professional editing. A gap of even a few weeks can give you fresh perspective. When you return, you’ll spot things you couldn’t see before – and those revisions will save you time (and therefore money) when the editor comes in.

Step Four: Have You Shared It with Trusted Readers?

Before hiring a professional, it can be extremely useful to get feedback from beta readers or a writing group. They’re not a substitute for an editor, but they can highlight glaring issues such as confusing passages, flat characters, or pacing problems.

If you’re brave, ask your readers: where did you lose interest? That one question often reveals far more than general “I liked it” feedback.

Once you’ve absorbed those comments and made adjustments, your manuscript will be in a much stronger shape for an editor’s eye.

Signs Your Novel Isn’t Ready Yet

Sometimes it’s easier to recognise when you’re not quite there. If any of these apply, it may be worth another round of self-work before seeking professional editing:

• You know there are still missing scenes or unresolved subplots.
• You’ve only skimmed through for typos without addressing deeper issues.
• You feel reluctant to share it because “it’s not very good yet”.
• You secretly hope an editor will “rewrite” the book for you.

Remember, editing is about refinement, not rewriting.

Signs Your Novel Is Ready for Professional Editing

On the other hand, you’re probably ready if:

• You’ve completed at least one solid draft and revised it yourself.
• You feel you’ve taken it as far as you can on your own.
• You want an objective, expert perspective.
• You’re excited (even if slightly nervous) about feedback.

That last point is key – readiness often shows in your mindset. If you’re open to collaboration and willing to hear constructive criticism, you’ll get so much more out of the editing process.

What to Do Before Sending It Off

If you’re ticking the “ready” boxes, there are a few practical steps before hitting send:

1. Format consistently. Use a simple font (Times New Roman or similar), double spacing, and page numbers. Editors don’t need fancy layouts. If you don’t know how to do this formatting, don’t worry – your editor will adjust it for you.
2. Save a backup. Always keep a copy of your original file (but please don’t work on it while your manuscript is with your editor – having two version in play at once gets very messy very quickly!).
3. Write a short synopsis. It helps your editor see the big picture.
4. Be clear about your goals. Are you aiming to pitch agents, self-publish, or just improve as a writer? Your editor can tailor feedback accordingly.

Frequently Asked Questions About Novel Editing

1. How many drafts should you write before hiring an editor?

There’s no magic number, but most authors go through at least two or three drafts before seeking professional editing. The first draft is for getting the story down, the second is for fixing plot holes and character arcs, and the third is often where you refine prose. Once you feel you’ve taken the manuscript as far as you can on your own, that’s usually the right time to bring in an editor.

2. Should you hire a professional editor before querying agents?

In most cases, it’s wise to have your novel professionally edited before submitting to agents. Agents expect a high level of polish, and a well-edited manuscript has a far better chance of standing out in a crowded slush pile.

That said, agents (or publishers) may well choose to edit your manuscript once they have taken you on, so you might prefer to opt for an agent teaser edit. This looks at just the first 10,000 words (which is what most agents will be looking at when deciding to offer you a deal) – meaning you have something clean and sparkly to send off for querying, but haven’t spent more money than you need to.

3. What’s the difference between developmental editing and line editing?

Developmental editing looks at the big-picture elements of your novel including plot, structure, pacing, and character development. Line editing, on the other hand, focuses on the sentence-level details: tone, flow, word choice, repetition, grammar, spelling, punctuation, and clarity. Many authors start with developmental editing to strengthen the story itself, then move on to line editing once the narrative is solid.

4. Can editors fix a bad novel?

An editor can do wonders for your story, but they’re not ghostwriters. If the manuscript is unfinished or fundamentally not working, an editor will guide you with constructive feedback, but the heavy lifting still comes from you. Editing is about refining and elevating your work – but you remain in charge of your words.

And finally…

If you aren’t sure whether you are ready to have your novel edited, please do get in touch. I’m always happy to answer your questions! I also offer a manuscript appraisal service which involves me reading your manuscript and recommending the level of editing that will help your writing the most.

The post How to Tell If Your Novel Is Ready for Professional Editing: A Guide to Novel Editing appeared first on MandaWaller.

What are Filter Words?

Some of the most common filter words include:

• Saw
• Heard
• Felt
• Knew
• Thought
• Wondered
• Realised
• Noticed
• Seemed
• Looked

At first glance, these words might seem harmless, even necessary. But in most cases, they weaken your writing by adding an unnecessary layer between the reader and the action.

Why are filter words a problem?

Now you have an idea of which words might be described as filter words – but what’s the problem with using them?

1. They create distance between the reader and the characters

When you are writing a scene from one character’s point of view, everything on the page must have been experienced by them. It must have been seen/heard/noticed/felt by them. This means you don’t need to tell your readers that Sarah heard a dog bark. Instead, you can tell them that a dog barked.

If you use filter words, it can remind the reader that they are being told a story, rather than experiencing the story alongside (or in the shoes of) your characters.

She felt a chill run up her spine [here, the word “felt” is a filter word]
becomes
A chill ran up her spine

In the first version, we’re being told what the character feels and realises. In the second, we experience it with her. The second version is more immediate, immersive and powerful.

2. They tell rather than show

You may well be bored of being told to “show” rather than “tell” your readers, but actually if you remove filter words from your writing, you will naturally lean more towards showing, and away from telling.

He saw the sun setting behind the mountains, painting the sky in shades of gold and crimson. [here, the word “saw” is a filter word]
becomes
The sun set behind the mountains, painting the sky in shades of gold and crimson.

The second version feels more natural and engaging. Readers don’t need to be reminded that the character “saw” something. If it’s being described on the page, then we can assume it’s been seen by the point of view character.

3. They Slow the Pace

In a novel, you need to make sure that every word counts – and this is particularly important in action scenes. Filter words can introduce drag, slow the pace and weaken the impact of crucial moments.

He noticed the shadow moving in the alley and realised someone was following him. He felt his pulse quicken as he turned around. [here, the words “noticed”, “realised” and “felt” are all filter words]
becomes
A shadow shifted in the alley. Someone was following him. His pulse quickened as he turned around.

The second version is sharper, tenser, and keeps the reader on edge.

How to Spot Filter Words in Your Writing

Now that you know why these words are problematic, how do you find them in your own writing? Here are some tips:

1. Do a Search

Search your manuscript for the common filter words listed above. Do the sentences work without them?

2. Read Your Work Aloud

When you read your writing out loud, filter words often sound clunky and unnecessary. If a sentence feels smoother without them, cut them out.

3. Imagine the Scene as a Film

If you were watching a film, would the character be narrating, “I saw the villain raise his gun,” or would you simply see the villain raising his gun? Writing should be just as immersive.

A Final Word

Filter words themselves aren’t inherently bad. But they can weaken your writing if they are overused. By eliminating the words that are surplus to requirements, you will keep the pace moving swiftly and increase reader engagement.

If you want more information about having your book edited, please do get in touch!

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What is Head-Hopping in Fiction Writing?

Head-hopping refers to the sudden shift in a story’s narrative point of view from one character to another within the same scene or paragraph. It’s like watching a tennis match – your reader’s attention is yanked back and forth, making it hard to stay immersed in the story.

For example:
Sarah smiled, pleased with her presentation. It had gone well, she thought.
John, sitting across the room, watched her smug smile. Jeez, that woman was overconfident. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

In this small except, we’ve leapt from Sarah’s thoughts to John’s. While it might seem efficient to show both perspectives, this will get in the way of your readers really investing in your characters, may add confusion, and will affect the emotional impact of your words.

Why is Head-Hopping a Problem?

1. Reader Confusion

Switching between characters’ perspectives without warning can disorientate readers. They may have to reread sections to understand whose thoughts they’re following, which breaks immersion.

2. Emotional Disconnect

When you’re constantly hopping between minds, you lose the chance to deeply connect with any one character. Readers want to live in a character’s shoes, not juggle multiple viewpoints at once.

3. Narrative Inconsistency

Head-hopping can create inconsistencies in tone or pacing, pulling readers out of the story – reminding them that they are being told a story, not living it alongside your characters.

How Head-Hopping Differs from Multiple POVs

It’s essential to distinguish head-hopping from stories with multiple POVs. While both involve exploring the perspectives of different characters, the key difference lies in execution:

• Head-Hopping: Shifts happen abruptly within a single scene or paragraph, often without warning.
• Multiple POVs: Each character’s perspective is contained within its own chapter or scene, giving readers clear cues about whose head they’re in, allowing them to spend proper time with each character.

Example of Effective Multiple POVs:

Chapter 1: Sarah’s POV
Sarah smiled, pleased with her presentation. It had gone as well as possible, she thought.

Chapter 2: John’s POV
John shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Sarah was definitely overconfident, but he admired her bravery.

Clear breaks ensure smooth transitions and maintain reader engagement.

How to Avoid Head-Hopping

1. Stick to a Single POV Per Scene

Commit to one character’s perspective at a time. If Sarah’s POV drives the scene, stay in her head and show John’s reactions through her observations:

Sarah noticed John shifting uncomfortably in his chair. Was he nervous about the presentation?

2. Use Scene Breaks for Transitions

If you want to switch perspectives, use a scene or chapter break to signal the shift. This gives readers a moment to adjust and keeps the narrative clean.

3. Master the Art of Subtle Observation

Show other characters’ emotions or reactions through body language, dialogue, or actions instead of diving into their thoughts:

John’s jaw tightened, and his gaze darted to the floor. Sarah couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or anxious.

When Can Head-Hopping Work?

While head-hopping is generally discouraged, some skilled writers pull it off seamlessly. The key lies in clarity and purpose. For example:

• Omniscient Narration: Classic authors like Jane Austen and Tolstoy use omniscient narrators to provide a bird’s-eye view of their characters’ thoughts and actions. The shifts feel natural because the narrative voice guides the reader.
• Fast-Paced or Experimental Fiction: In some stories, especially those with a chaotic or experimental style, head-hopping can enhance the storytelling. Just be sure it’s intentional and adds to the narrative rather than detracting from it.

Tools to Help Manage POV

1. Outline Your Scenes

Before diving into a scene, decide which character’s POV will dominate. What do they know, see, and feel? This helps you stay grounded.

2. Colour-Code Your Draft

Assign a colour to each character’s POV and highlight their sections in your draft. This visual cue can help you spot accidental shifts.

3. Beta Readers and Editors

Enlist trusted beta readers or professional editors to catch unintended head-hopping. A fresh set of eyes can spot inconsistencies you might miss.

A Final Word on Head-Hopping in Fiction Writing

Head-hopping isn’t inherently evil, but it’s a risky technique that requires finesse. For most writers, sticking to a single POV per scene or using clear transitions is the safest way to keep readers engaged. If you’re tempted to experiment with head-hopping, make sure it serves your story and doesn’t leave your readers with narrative whiplash.

If you’d like to chat about having your novel edited, please do contact me. I’m always happy to answer questions.

The post Head-Hopping in Fiction Writing: How to Avoid Reader Whiplash appeared first on MandaWaller.

Why Use Grunts, Groans, and Verbal Tics in Dialogue?

Listen to the conversations going on around you. How often do you hear a completely smooth conversation without a single hesitation or filler word? Real speech is messy. Including grunts, groans, and verbal fillers in your dialogue can:

• Add authenticity: Realistic speech makes characters relatable.
• Reveal emotions: A sigh can convey sadness, frustration, or relief without needing a long description.
• Show hesitation or discomfort: An ‘uh’ or ‘um’ can reveal a character’s uncertainty or nervousness.
• Break the monotony of perfect speech: Perfectly polished dialogue can feel artificial, especially in informal settings.

The Fine Line Between Realism and Overkill

By including grunts, groans, ums, ahs and ers, you will add depth to your characters and create dialogue that’s more natural and engaging. However, it’s crucial not to overdo it. Excessive grunts and fillers can frustrate readers and bog down your story. As with so many things, balance is key.

Do:

• Use verbal tics sparingly to emphasise important moments.
• Match the tone and personality of the character.
• Vary your approach across different characters.

Don’t:

• Overload dialogue with sounds to the point where it becomes unreadable.
• Use the same filler repeatedly for multiple characters.
• Let fillers overshadow the actual dialogue.

How to Write Grunts and Groans in Dialogue

Grunts and groans are fantastic tools for expressing emotion, but be careful to use them consciously.

1. Match the Sound to the Emotion

Each sound has its own emotional resonance:

• Grunts: Indicate frustration, effort, annoyance or disgust.
  • Example: He heaved the heavy crate into the truck. ‘Ugh,’ he muttered, smelling his armpits.
• Groans: Suggest pain, reluctance, or exasperation.
  • Example: She groaned. ‘Do we have to?’ she asked, dragging her feet. (Note that in this example, ‘groaned’ is not a dialogue tag. Do you think it’s possible to groan a whole sentence?)
• Sighs: Convey relief, sadness, or resignation.
  • Example: She exhaled a long sigh. ‘I guess you’re right.’

2. Describe the Sound

If a simple ‘ugh’ or ‘pffft’ doesn’t seem to provide enough detail or you’re worried your readers might miss the nuance, you can always use verbs like ‘she huffed’ or ‘they grunted’ to give readers context.

• Example: He let out a low, guttural grunt, the kind that said ‘I’m too tired for this.’

3. Use Onomatopoeia (But Wisely)

Onomatopoeia – words that imitate sounds – can add flair to your writing. Stick to common spellings and avoid getting too creative with sound effects.

• Good: Hmm. Ugh. Huh?
• Overkill: Hnnnnnngh. Grraaaargh. Ploooop.

Also remember that if you want to elongate a sound, make sure you stretch the right part of the word. So argh becomes aaaaaargh, and not arghhhh.

4. Tailor Sounds to Each Character

Just as people have unique voices, they also have unique verbal habits. Your stoic, no-nonsense detective might grunt to express annoyance, while your chatty teen might lean on ‘umm’ when stalling for time.

• Example:
  • Detective: ‘Hmph. Not much of a lead, is it?’
  • Teenager: ‘Um, I mean, like, I guess?’

Writing Ums and Ers: Filling the Gaps

Verbal fillers like ‘um’ and ‘er’ are excellent for showing hesitation or thought processes. However, these need to be handled carefully or they can really, like, become, er, irritating.

1. Keep It Natural

Think about how people use fillers in real life. They usually indicate:

• Searching for the right word.
• Stalling for time.
• Feeling nervous or unsure.
• Example: ‘I, um, think we should go this way?’

2. Limit Their Use

While fillers can make dialogue realistic, too many can frustrate readers. Use them sparingly and purposefully.

• Overdone: ‘So, um, I was, uh, like, thinking, er, maybe we could, um, you know, go?’
• Balanced: ‘So, um, I was thinking maybe we could go?’
• You can also use ellipses to good effect: ‘So… I was thinking maybe we could go?’

3. Vary the Placement

Don’t always stick fillers at the beginning of a sentence. Mix things up for realism.

• Example:
  • ‘Um, I think we should wait.’
  • ‘I think we should, um, wait.’

Using Body Language Alongside Sounds

Grunts, groans, and verbal fillers often go hand-in-hand with body language. Pairing them creates a richer, more vivid scene.

• Example:
  • Sound only: He sighed. ‘Fine, I’ll do it.’
  • Sound + body language: He sighed, running a hand through his hair. ‘Fine, I’ll do it.’

You can see how adding body language makes the moment feel more alive and grounded.

Avoiding Common Pitfalls

When writing grunts, groans and fillers, keep these tips in mind to avoid common missteps:

1. Don’t Overuse Sounds for One Character

If every line of dialogue includes an ‘uh’ or ‘ugh’, it will quickly become annoying. Diversify your character’s speech patterns.

2. Avoid Confusing Spelling

Stick to commonly understood spellings for sounds. Overly creative spellings can confuse readers and pull them out of the story.

• Example:
  • Simple: Pfft
  • Confusing: Pffffffffffthhhhhhhht

3. Balance Realism with Readability

While real-life speech is full of fillers and sounds, when writing a novel you need to make sure that every word counts. Aim for a balance that feels natural but doesn’t overwhelm (or annoy!) the reader.

In Conclusion: Making Your Dialogue Sing (and Groan!)

Grunts, groans, ums, and ers might seem like minor details, but they play a big role in creating realistic, engaging dialogue. When used thoughtfully, these sounds can highlight a character’s emotions, show hesitation or thought processes and add authenticity and texture to your story.

Remember, though, that balance is key – a little goes a long way. If you’d like to chat about having your novel edited, please do contact me. I’m always happy to answer questions.

The post How to Write Grunts, Groans, Ums, Ahs and Ers in Your Novel appeared first on MandaWaller.

As with most things fiction, there are many ways to add emphasis to your writing, and there are no “rules”. However, there are conventions and – more importantly – reader expectations. And which method you choose can have an impact on reader engagement, which in turn will have an impact on your book sales.

Italics

A common way to add emphasis to your writing is to use italics. This is probably the first choice for many fiction authors, but there are a couple of caveats. Firstly, what else are you using italics for? Frequently, italics are used to indicate a character’s thoughts or inner dialogue, and they are often used for flashbacks or quoted text. Some authors still choose to italicise words that are not English (although this custom is becoming less common).

So be careful not to confuse your readers by using italics for too many different things.

Also be aware that large chunks of text in italics can be wearing on the eye, and italics doesn’t always translate well on e-readers.

CAPITAL LETTERS and Capital Initial Letters

Using capital letters does certainly bring emphasis, but it can also bring irritation. Frequently, readers see capital letters as a way of indicating that a character is SHOUTING. Which, in itself, is absolutely fine. However, a character who’s CONSTANTLY SHOUTING can undermine their credibility, and (worse), the credibility of your writing. When used judiciously, capitals can work well – particularly when just the Initial Letter is capitalised. Capitalising just the initial letter(s) adds a layer of importance, giving the word equal weight with a Proper Noun.

But again, capitals can get a little shouty, and again, they should be used judiciously.

Exclamation Marks!

Exclamation marks are used to indicate moments of high tension, drama and humour, and they are fantastic at indicating to your reader that they need to bring a degree of energy to the sentence they are reading.

However, it’s really hard to maintain a high level of energy for a prolonged period of time, so try to avoid having multiple consecutive sentences ending in an exclamation mark! Some readers are also irritated by the use of exclamation marks, and I always recommend they are limited where possible, and used only for really intense/dramatic moments. This can mean using exclamation marks only once or twice per chapter, or even once or twice per book.

Where a character is exclaiming something, then it’s only necessary to use either an exclamation mark, or the “she exclaimed” dialogue tag. Not both.

If overused, exclamation marks will start to lose their impact. So again, judicious use is recommended.

Interrobangs ?!

The combination of the question mark and the exclamation mark is known as an interrobang. The interrobang is a little like the baddum-tish at the end of a bad joke – it wouldn’t be necessary if the joke was better. Interrobangs are like a pumped-up exclamation mark that comes along to smack you in the face. If this is the effect you are looking for, then of course please go ahead. But if you want a more subtle emphasis, then definitely choose a different option.

Bold text and Underlined text

Publishers rarely use bold text in the body of a book – generally it’s reserved for titles and headings, and underlined text can make things look cluttered.

So how should you add emphasis to your writing?

Where a character is having an extreme reaction to something, this should be clear from the words they are using, the length of their sentences, the way their body moves and the way other characters are reacting to them.

When you want your reader to have a reaction to something in the text, the same conventions apply. Manipulate their responses using a different sentence structure – like this one – that brings emphasis to words or actions purely by the way it’s put together.

Show your readers moments of intensity with careful vocabulary and thoughtful writing craft rather than telling them about it with punctuation.

And if you do choose to use italics, capitals, exclamation marks or interrobangs, make sure to only use them one at a time. Avoid sentences that Include Capitals, WORDS THAT ARE ITALICISED, and that end in an exclamation mark! Because these are just plain irritating.

Don’t forget that your editor can help you with this as part of their line editing or developmental editing services, and please do get in touch with any questions.

The post How to Add Emphasis to your Writing appeared first on MandaWaller.

Equally, if you suddenly start describing things from another character’s point of view, this is called head-hopping. Head-hopping can result in your readers losing interest or engagement, and – even worse – it can become confusing.

You want your readers to fully engage with your characters – to love them or hate them, to want to be their friend or to loathe them with a passion. And to do this, you need to carefully manage the way you handle point of view.

But what about when something happens – that’s crucial for the plot – when the point of view character is absent? When they are unconscious, or asleep, or just somewhere else?

In this post I will give you some suggestions for how to handle the point of view character being absent, and demonstrate how to avoid head-hopping, but don’t forget that this is something your editor can help with, particularly if they offer developmental editing services.

Is the scene important?

The first question to ask when you find yourself writing a scene in which your point of view (POV) character is absent is whether the scene is actually critical. Every scene in your novel needs to have a purpose. It needs to advance the story and move the plot forward. Just adding character depth or interest is not a good enough purpose.

If the scene has no discernible purpose, delete it. There may be bits of prose you’ve spent hours agonising over, and sentences you are particularly fond of, but you can keep these and repurpose them in another scene.

Can your point of view character witness the scene, without being part of it?

Can your POV character be aware of the action, the events, the information being discussed, without actually being part of the scene?

Maybe they could be hiding in the hedge, watching through the foliage. In this example, they can obviously hear and see everything (or most things), so you can describe everything unfolding in front of them. There may be bits of the conversation that they can’t quite hear – and you can use this to your advantage if you want to mislead your character (and your readers).

Maybe they could be pretending to be asleep, overhear one side of a telephone conversation, or be hiding just outside the room and eavesdropping. In these three examples, the POV character can only describe what they can hear, so the narrative needs to reflect this. Don’t fall into the trap of describing visual elements too.

Can another character tell them about it later?

If major events happen when your POV character is absent, then another way to convey this information to your readers is for another character to report the events at a later point.

This can be done through dialogue – maybe your point of view character finds out that something important has unfolded, and interrogates a character who was present at the time. Maybe the details just come out naturally in conversation.

This way, your readers can know every detail witnessed by the character who was present. To add more twists and dimension, this character might be an unreliable witness, perceiving events through their own prejudice and assumptions.

Carefully construct a secondary point of view character

If none of the suggestions above quite match your intentions for the scene, then there’s the option of creating a second POV character. This means you can allow your readers full access to the events unfolding and provide them with your second POV character’s emotional response.

This is useful for portraying events which happened before your POV character was born (for example). To create a second point of view character, there are a few considerations to take into account.

Firstly, pick your character carefully. Ideally, this character needs to be central to the plot, but not appearing in many scenes. It would be incongruous to have just one chapter or scene from a character who appears throughout the book. Your readers will wonder why we only have access to them for the one occasion, and they are probably likely to see through this as a writing device.

Secondly, this second POV character needs to have their own scene. Jumping from your primary POV to your secondary POV within the same scene can easily descend into head-hopping (unless you are a seriously skilled wordsmith). Instead, use a section break (or, even better, a chapter break) to signpost to your reader that there has been a jump.

Thirdly, clearly and openly express that you are investing in a second POV character. It needs to be obvious from the very first sentence of this section that your readers are experiencing a different POV. This can be easily achieved by using their name as the first word in the scene:

James wasn’t happy with the way his life was going. Why did these things always happen to him? Had he been mean in a previous existence? Sometimes, he felt like he was wading through mud, just to keep still.
His shoulders tensed as he gazed out at the darkening day. A man – thickset and tall – was striding confidently towards the house. Was that a gun? Probably. Given the way his day was going, James was not at all surprised.
He ducked down beneath the sink. Please please make this all go away, he thought as something heavy hit the back door. Please don’t let me die today. I’m only thirty-two.
The back door flew open and James threw up his hands. “I surrender. Whatever it is you want, just take it!”
The intruder ignored him, marching past him into the hall and thumping up the stairs. What on earth did he want? “I haven’t got anything valuable,” James shouted. Which wasn’t true. He had the stones. And they were more valuable than gold.

In this example, we are firmly and instantly inside James’s head. Using free indirect speech (why did these things always happen to him?) rather than direct thought (Why do these things always happen to me? he thought) quickly brings the reader in really close and allows them an up close and personal relation with the new POV character.

Ideally, this new POV character should have a different voice from your main POV character. They should sound different – and I don’t mean give them an accent! Try using different sentence structures to indicate a different personality (perhaps they could be anxious and their narrative could be expressed in quick sentences, for example).

Switch Narrative Styles

It may be that you don’t have a character like James in your novel – who appears infrequently but is central to the plot. Maybe you don’t want to confuse your readers by developing a second point of view.

In this instance, you can draw the narrative viewpoint back to reveal just the observable evidence, and take away the emotion. Rather than create a three-dimensional character with thoughts and feelings, you can create someone who is only there to relay the facts.

To revisit the scene earlier where James is looking through the window and being sad about his existence:

A man – thickset and tall and carrying a gun – was walking confidently towards the house. James tried to hide, but it was useless as the back door burst open and the intruder marched in. “I surrender. Whatever it is you want, just take it!” James cried. The man pushed past him and stomped up the stairs. When he came back down, he was holding the stones. The stones that were more valuable than gold. And then, the man was gone.

In this example, there is no emotion. The scene is being described, really, from no one’s point of view. This omniscient lens results in detached writing which can allow you some freedom to describe scenes where the POV character is not present, but – because of the emotional detachment – this type of writing will not engage your readers.

It’s literally a description of events, with no perspective or emotional value added, so this narrative style should be used sparingly.

In conclusion

Take care with scenes that happen when your point of view character is absent. There are a number of devices you can use to avoid head-hopping, and when done carefully it’s perfectly possible to describe events that unfold without your POV character witnessing them. Don’t forget that your editor can help you with this as part of their line editing or developmental editing services, and please do get in touch with any questions.

The post When your Point of View Character is Absent appeared first on MandaWaller.