Aloha world~ It’s been a while since I’ve come onto the blog and shared anything personal, so after giving it some thought, I'm here to give a small heart-to-heart. A few nights ago, as I was drifting off to sleep, I had a quiet realization: writing has made me a better person. A better friend. A better partner. A better version of myself. It’s something that’s been brewing under the surface for a while now, and I finally have the words for it—or at least, I’m going to try. How Writing Made Me a Better Person Let’s be real: I didn’t start writing to become a better human being. I started writing because I had stories clawing at the inside of my skull. Because I had character's voices living in my bones, begging to be written. Because I had feelings that demanded to be felt. I wrote to escape, to cope, to create worlds where I had control, to bring characters to life who could carry the weight of the words I never found the courage to voice myself. Writing was a refuge, a rebellion, a quiet act of power in a world that often felt loud and out of control. And while that initial spark came from desperation and creativity intertwining, it was the consistency of the act that transformed me. But somewhere along the way, writing started to shape me. It wasn’t sudden. There was no epiphany moment, no lightbulb flashing over my head. It was subtle, like a river slowly carving a canyon over time—almost imperceptible until you stand back and realize the entire landscape has changed. Writing has this quiet persistence. It nudges you into reflection, chisels away the surface noise, and demands you sit still long enough to listen to your own thoughts. It taught me patience. I don’t mean the romantic kind of patience where I stare at the sunset and wait for the words to arrive like divine inspiration. I mean sitting in front of a blinking cursor, day after day, wrestling with sentences that refuse to behave. I mean writing the same scene twelve different ways, only to return to draft number four. It taught me to show up even when the muse ghosted me. It taught me that creativity is more sweat than spark, and that showing up for the work is, in itself, an act of love and commitment. Writing is the long game—it rewards consistency over brilliance. Writing deepened my empathy. When you spend enough time inside the heads of characters who are nothing like you—characters who believe things you don't believe, who make choices you'd never make, who come from lives you’ve never lived—you start to soften. You start to understand. You become less quick to judge, more curious, more open. Because you’ve had to ask yourself, “Why would someone do this?” and not let yourself off the hook with easy answers. You learn that every person is the result of a thousand unseen influences—and so are you. And the more people you create on the page, the more real people you learn to see with grace and nuance. Writing humbled me. Oh, you think you're smart until your first draft hits the page and reads like a middle school group chat. You think you’ve mastered your craft until you reread last month’s chapter and wonder who let you near a keyboard. But in that humility, there’s growth. You learn to embrace imperfection, to keep learning, to ask for feedback, to fail forward. You start to understand that “bad writing” isn’t failure—it’s a beginning. It reminded me that mastery doesn’t come from talent alone, but from relentless revision, from falling in love with the process even when the outcome feels uncertain. Writing, more than anything, has made me teachable. Writing has given me courage. Not the slay-a-dragon kind, but the quieter, steadier courage to speak honestly. To tell the truth, even when it’s messy. Especially when it’s messy. Writing helped me find my voice—and to believe it deserved to be heard. It made me braver in my relationships, more honest with myself, and more willing to say, “This is who I am, flaws and all.” It showed me that authenticity isn’t loud—it’s persistent. It’s the willingness to keep showing up as yourself, again and again, even when it's uncomfortable. And most importantly? Writing saved me during some of the darkest times of my life. It was my therapy long before I ever sat across from a therapist. It held up a mirror, made me ask, “Why?” and “What if?” It challenged me to think critically—not just about plot or theme, but about myself. Writing forced me to go deep: into cultures, into characters, into trauma—and that deep dive bled into my real life. The way I questioned my characters—what they think they want vs. what they actually need—made me question my own desires. “Is this really what I need to be happy and fulfilled? Or is it just the narrative I’ve been told to want?” It gave me a deeper relationship with myself. It peeled back layers I didn’t even know I had. It forced me to ask questions I’d been avoiding, to confront insecurities, to celebrate things I’d always minimized. It gave me space to become. It’s helped me dig deep into my own demons, confront them, battle them, and emerge—if not unscathed—then stronger and more self-aware. It helped me understand that writing is not just a mirror—it’s also a scalpel. It cuts away what no longer serves you and reveals what lies underneath. It taught me that writing isn’t about having all the answers—it’s about having the courage to ask the right questions. And I’ve learned that just like characters, we don’t always know what we need. But through writing, we can learn how to uncover it. How Writing Can Make You a Better Person, Too If writing has transformed me, it can transform you too. Writing isn’t reserved for the tortured artist or the professional novelist—it’s for anyone willing to sit with themselves long enough to listen. When you write, you confront your thoughts. You name your fears. You tease apart the tangled web of memory, emotion, and experiences. You come face to face with your past, your patterns, and your potential. Writing teaches you how to be present with yourself, how to reflect without spiraling, and how to capture clarity in the middle of chaos. Writing helps you pause and examine. It asks you to get curious, to ask questions, to zoom in and reflect. It teaches patience, compassion, honesty. It challenges you to look deeper, not just at your characters, but at the people around you—and most importantly, at yourself. It turns pain into understanding, chaos into clarity, silence into voice. If you’re open to it, writing will become one of the most powerful tools for self-awareness, emotional growth, and inner healing you’ll ever have. So no, I didn’t start writing to become a better person. But writing, in its own stubborn, beautiful, transformative way, made me one anyway. And for that, I’ll never stop putting words on the page. Write without fear, ignore the inner-perfectionist, and when in doubt, have a shot of tequila—then keep writing. —Bair✍︎ Want to stay up to-date on get exclusive updates and insights on future projects, book launches, writer and reader resources, FREE literature, writing freebies, and a more? Sign up for my Newsletter ! Find more helpful writing tips on the rest of my blog . Struggling to get your word count in? Check out my writing podcast ! Need a new notebook? Check out my hand-bound books ! Support the blog on Ko-fi ! INSTAGRAM  | LINKEDIN  | PINTEREST Check out My Writer & Reader Merch Store Like this post? Share the link on your social media or pin the image below to your Pinterest board !

You’re Already an Artist (You Just Forgot) You’ve probably had a moment where the world suddenly felt... cinematic . Maybe it was the way rain hit the pavement under a streetlamp, or how the sunset painted the sky in fiery streaks, or even the rhythm of a stranger’s laughter in a quiet café. That’s your artist’s brain waking up—your ability to  see  the world, not just move through it. But life is loud. Responsibilities pile up. And somewhere along the way, many of us forget how to truly  look  at the world like an artist. If you've ever wished you could tap into that artistic way of seeing—whether for drawing, writing, photography, or just feeling more alive—this guide will help you reawaken that creative vision. Table Of Contents What It Means To See Like An Artist The Power of Attention The World As a Story Deconstruct Your Surroundings Engaging The Senses Making Art Without Fear Writing With An Artist’s Eye Practice Seeing Differently Every Day Concluding Thoughts: The Magic of Everyday Artistry What Does It Mean to See Like an Artist? Sherlock Holmes once said,  “You see, but you do not observe.”   Most people move through the world on autopilot—staring at things without actually  seeing  them, much like how we skim through terms and conditions before hitting ‘Accept.’ But artists? Artists are the people who stop in the middle of the street because the sunlight hitting a puddle looks  just right  and suddenly, boom—life is poetic. They notice the way light shifts on water, the movement of people in a café, the stories hidden in an old building’s cracked paint. Seeing like an artist means finding beauty, depth, and meaning in the ordinary… and sometimes getting distracted by cool-shaped clouds while crossing the street (please be careful). Slowing Down: The Power of Attention In a world where our lives are dominated by screens, notifications, and the endless doom-scroll, it's easy to forget to actually  look  at what's around us. Our attention is constantly pulled in a hundred directions, but seeing like an artist means reclaiming it. This is the first step to seeing differently. Instead of glancing at something and moving on, take a moment to  really  look. In a fast-paced world, artists practice  slowing down . This is the first step to seeing differently. Instead of glancing at something and moving on, take a moment to  really  look. Exercise: Pick an object near you (yes, even that half-empty coffee cup). Stare at it like it just confessed a deep secret. What do you notice about its texture, color, shape, or how it interacts with light? Bonus points if you dramatically whisper, “Tell me your truths,” while doing this. The World as a Story: Seeing Through Emotion Artists don’t just  see —they  feel  the world. A lonely chair in an empty room isn’t just a chair; it’s a tragic tale of abandonment (or maybe it’s just waiting for someone to sit on it, but let’s be dramatic for fun). Everything has a story if you look at it the right way. The more you train yourself to see narratives in the world, the easier it becomes to infuse your own art—whether it’s writing, painting, or photography—with deeper meaning. Think about the last time you passed by an old, forgotten building. What memories does it hold? What echoes of past laughter, arguments, or quiet contemplation are still trapped in its walls? Seeing the world as a story is about curiosity—about asking ‘why’ and ‘what if.’ It’s about embracing the unknown and letting your imagination fill in the blanks. Want more questions beyond 'why' and 'what if'? Check out my blog post The Power Of Asking Question In Writing  on essential questions to ask yourself while writing. Exercise: Pick a random object and invent a ridiculous backstory for it. Maybe your spoon is a retired warrior. Maybe your houseplant is plotting world domination. Who owned it before? What secret life does it lead when you’re not looking? Take it a step further: Write a 200-word scene based on your object’s imagined history. Remember, everything has a story, be patient and let its tale unfold. Colors, Shapes, & Light: Learning to Deconstruct Your Surroundings The world is a chaotic mess of color, light, and shape, and artists train themselves to make sense of it. Notice how light changes throughout the day. Yes, even if it means standing in your yard at sunrise like some kind of mystical forest gremlin. Watch how it filters through trees, dances on water, or stretches in long golden beams through windows at sunset. Observe how colors interact—like how neon pink can look painfully aggressive next to beige. Pay attention to how moods shift with color: why do hospitals use calming blues? Why do restaurants lean into warm reds and golds? How do shadows subtly change colors, rather than just turning gray? Try to break complex scenes into basic shapes (that tree? Just a big cylinder with fluff on top). If you had to describe a setting to someone who couldn't see it, how would you simplify it while still capturing its essence? Start paying attention to contrast—light vs. dark, saturated vs. muted, stillness vs. movement. This awareness will help not just with visual art, but with crafting richer descriptions in writing. Engaging the Senses (Beyond Sight) Seeing like an artist isn’t just about sight. Engage all the senses, because the richest experiences come from fully immersing yourself in the world around you. Listen like a musician : Every creaky floorboard is a horror movie soundtrack waiting to happen. The rhythm of a bustling city, the hush of an empty library, the slow drip of water from a leaky faucet—what emotions do these sounds create? Embody a sculptor: Run your hands over surfaces (yes, you are allowed to gently pet cool rocks). The world is textured—notice the smoothness of a worn book cover, the sharp chill of metal on a cold morning, the grain of wood beneath your fingertips. Try describing flavors like a dramatic food critic on a cooking show. What does your morning coffee taste like beyond ‘bitter’? Is it nutty, chocolatey, smoky? If a scent could be a memory, what would it remind you of? Try and taste the world as if you were a chef. Want to take your writing to the next level? Read my blog post Bringing Your Story to Life: The Art of Writing Vivid, Immersive Prose (How To Show Not Tell Using The 5 Senses) . Making Art Without Fear One of the biggest blocks to creativity is the fear of not being "good enough." But artistry begins with observation, not perfection. Perfection is a scam, and we’re not falling for it. You don’t need permission to create, and you definitely don’t need to be a ‘master’ at something before enjoying it. Fear of failure, fear of judgment, fear of not being ‘good enough’—all of these can suffocate creativity before it even has a chance to breathe. But here’s the truth: all artists make bad art. Every masterpiece started as an awkward first attempt. The only way to get better is to allow yourself to be bad at first. The goal isn’t perfection—it’s play . Let yourself experiment, mess up, and enjoy the process. Your inner critic will try to ruin the fun, but you don’t have to listen. Instead, laugh at your mistakes. Make ugly sketches, write bad poetry, sing off-key—do it all with joy. But if perfectionism is holding you back, I have a whole blog post here dedicated to overcoming your inner critic and embracing creative freedom. Read Overcoming Your Inner Perfectionist. Exercise: Take 3 photos of something  seemingly ordinary  and explain why it’s secretly amazing. Write a short paragraph about an object  as if it had a soul or story . Go full poetic. Make Shakespeare jealous. Writing with an Artist’s Eye Observing the world like an artist doesn’t just improve visual creativity—it makes your writing more vivid, immersive, and emotionally rich. When you train yourself to see details, emotions, and hidden stories, your descriptions become more powerful, your settings more alive, and your characters more layered. Use the five senses:  Don’t just describe what a place  looks  like—what does it  smell  like? What sounds fill the air? How does the air  feel  against the skin? Engaging all the senses makes a scene leap off the page. Find beauty in the mundane:  A dripping faucet isn’t just a leak—it’s an anxious heartbeat in an empty kitchen. A stack of old books isn’t just clutter—it’s a portal to a hundred forgotten worlds. Show, don’t tell—but also, tell creatively:  Instead of saying “he was nervous,” show how his fingers twitch against the table, how he keeps adjusting his collar, how his breath comes in uneven bursts. Metaphors are your best friend:  Compare unexpected things. Make the sky a bruise, make laughter like shattered glass. The more you practice this, the more unique and poetic your writing will feel. Exercise: Write a paragraph describing a simple moment (e.g., making coffee, waiting for a bus) using at least three senses and one metaphor. Take a plain sentence (e.g., "The street was empty.") and rewrite it with vivid, artistic detail (e.g., "The street stretched out in front of me, silent and yawning, littered with broken streetlights that flickered like dying candles."). Practice Seeing Differently Every Day To train yourself to see the world through an artistic lens, make it a daily practice. And most importantly— let your inner child out and be silly. Jump in puddles, talk to inanimate objects, make shadow puppets on the wall. The world is a playground if you let it be. To train yourself to see the world through an artistic lens, make it a daily practice. Keep a "Noticing Journal" —words, sketches, color swatches, descriptions, or even chaotic doodles. Change perspectives : Look at the world upside-down (literally or metaphorically). Zoom in on tiny details, then zoom out for the bigger picture.  Everything is  weirder  than you think. Challenge: Spend one day seeing  as if  you were an artist in a specific medium (e.g., a poet, a cinematographer, a painter). If you want to fully commit, dress the part. Berets are encouraged but not required. Concluding Thoughts: The Magic of Everyday Artistry Seeing like an artist transforms everyday life. The mundane becomes magical. A rain-slicked street at night becomes a masterpiece of reflections and motion. A stranger’s glance holds an untold story. A sock left on the floor is now a dramatic still life piece titled  Despair in Cotton Form. By shifting your perspective, you cultivate not just artistic vision, but a richer, more meaningful experience of the world. Start today. Look deeper. Stare lovingly at a doorknob. The world is waiting to be seen and appreciated. —Bair✍︎ Want to stay up to-date on get exclusive updates and insights on future projects, book launches, writer and reader resources, FREE literature, writing freebies, and a more? Sign up for my Newsletter ! Find more helpful writing tips on the rest of my blog . Struggling to get your word count in? Check out my writing podcast ! Need a new notebook? Check out my hand-bound books ! Support the blog on Ko-fi ! INSTAGRAM  | LINKEDIN  | PINTEREST Check out My Writer & Reader Merch Store Like this post? 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How to Stop Your Characters From Sounding Like Clones in a Corporate Meeting I don’t know about you, dear reader, but I love writing dialogue. It’s one of the few times I get to pull out my galaxy brain and let my characters say all the poetic, deep, and cutting things I wish I could say in real life. Writing dialogue lets me explore different worldviews, personalities, and emotional undercurrents—without the awkwardness of stumbling over my words in an actual conversation. One of the best pieces of writing advice I’ve ever heard is this:  know what your characters want to say, then filter it through layers and layers of their trauma, backstory, upbringing, and personality.  But don’t let them actually say what they really mean—not unless it’s a climactic scene. Dialogue isn’t just about what’s being said—it’s about  who’s saying it, how they say it, and why it matters . Too many writers fall into the trap of making all their characters sound the same, stuffing conversations with filler, or writing scenes that read more like courtroom transcripts than real interactions. If your dialogue feels flat, robotic, or indistinguishable, it’s time to sharpen those voices. And in this instance, dialogue is one of the few times where you can get away with  telling  instead of  showing —especially if a character is speaking to catch another character up on important information. Done right, dialogue can move the story along without feeling like an exposition dump. Because nothing shatters immersion faster than characters who all sound identical. Your warrior shouldn’t be speaking with the same careful precision as your absent-minded scholar, and your jaded mercenary probably isn’t out here waxing poetic about the sunrise (unless it’s a metaphor for existential dread, in which case—carry on). So let’s talk about how to make your dialogue snap, sizzle, and actually sound like real people having real conversations that move your story along. Table Of Contents A Quick Recap: The Three Core Functions of Dialogue Step One: A Unique Lens Step Two: Contrast Through Dialogue Step Three: Let Dialogue Be Messy & Realistic Writing Exercises Concluding Thoughts A Quick Recap: The Three Core Functions of Dialogue Before we dive deep, let’s ground ourselves in the three main things dialogue should accomplish: Reveal and define your characters.  (How they speak tells us who they are.) Set the mood or create suspense.  (Dialogue can subtly influence tension and emotion.) Move your story forward.  (If dialogue isn’t serving the plot, it’s just noise.) How a character speaks should reflect their personality, background, and emotions, offering insight in ways description cannot. Their dialogue should also shift with mood and tension—short and urgent in a fight, somber and distant in grief. Using dialogue alongside narration can heighten suspense and deepen internal conflict. Most importantly, dialogue should move the story forward —if it doesn’t reveal something new, change a dynamic, or create momentum, cut it.  Keep it concise, meaningful, and true to character. Now, let’s dig into the techniques that will make your dialogue sharper and more engaging. Step 1: Give Each Character a Unique Lens Characters shouldn’t just be reciting lines—they should be approaching the conversation from  different angles  based on their background, personality, and worldview. Ask Yourself: What is this character’s  outlook on life ? Are they an optimist, cynic, realist, or agent of absolute chaos? What’s their  emotional state  in this moment? Are they defensive, hopeful, wary, repressing the urge to throw hands? What’s their  “ soul scar ” * —the deep wound that affects how they communicate? (And no, “being a Scorpio” doesn’t count.) Example: Let’s say two character s are discussing a dangerous mission. Instead of both saying,  “This is risky,”  give them  different ways  to express their concerns: The Pessimist:  “We’re all going to die. You know that, right?” The Overconfident One:  “Relax. I’ve done worse.” The Logical One:  “Statistically speaking, our odds are… not great.” The Rebel:  “Whatever. I’d rather die than sit around doing nothing.” By splitting up their perspectives, the dialogue becomes sharper, more engaging, and more true to character. Instead of thinking of a scene where characters talk about a certain topic,  divide up their concerns and viewpoints. Give each character a different aspect to focus on based on their unique perspective. This not only sharpens their voices but also makes the dialogue richer and more layered. Step 2: Contrast Characters Through Dialogue The key to making characters  sound different  isn’t just in what they say—it’s in  how  they say it. Here are five elements that create contrast between voices: 1.) Speaking Patterns How a character structures their speech tells readers a lot about who they are. Some characters might be overly direct, cutting straight to the point, while others might dance around an issue for paragraphs. Here are some things to consider: Do they  ramble  or  get straight to the point ? (A professor might over-explain, while a soldier keeps it short and blunt.) Do they  interrupt others  or wait their turn? (A dominant, aggressive character might constantly cut in, while a more reserved one holds back.) Are they  blunt and straightforward , or do they  use roundabout phrasing  to soften their words? (A tactful politician will frame things carefully, whereas a no-nonsense mercenary won’t sugarcoat anything.) 2.) Presenting Information Who lays out  facts and logic  vs. who speaks  emotionally ? (A scientist might list statistics, while a grieving mother speaks in raw feeling.) Who speaks with  certainty  vs. who  hedges their words  with  maybe  and  probably ? (A confident leader speaks in absolutes; an anxious character qualifies everything they say.) 3.) Word Choice & Expressions Give each character a  distinctive phrase  they use occasionally. (A detective might always say,  “Here’s what I think happened.” ) Do they use  formal language  or are they  casual , even crass ? (A nobleman won’t speak like a street thief—unless they’re hiding something.) 4.) Metaphors & Comparisons A character’s background influences how they see the world and the comparisons they make: A  scientist  might say,  “Our chances of survival are like Schrödinger’s cat—we won’t know until we open the box.” A  chef  might describe a tense situation as  “overcooked and about to burn.” A  warrior  might compare everything to battle:  “This is a war of attrition—we just have to outlast them.” 5.) How the Dialogue Looks on the Page Even visually, dialogue should hint at a character’s personality: Who speaks in long-winded paragraphs vs. who uses short, snappy lines? Who constantly interrupts? (Shows dominance, impatience, or urgency.) Who always has to have the last word? (Indicates arrogance, insecurity, or playfulness.) By fine-tuning these details, you create natural contrast between voices and can make every conversation feel dynamic and true to each character. Step 3: Let Dialogue Be Messy & Realistic Real conversations  don’t follow perfect structure.  To make your dialogue feel authentic: Allow interruptions.  People cut each other off all the time. Let thoughts overlap.  Not every reply directly follows the last statement. Make room for pauses and unsaid words.  What’s not said is just as important. Remember that grammar isn’t always perfect in speech. Writing Exercises: Strengthening Your Dialogue Now that you know how to craft distinct, engaging dialogue, it's time to put those skills to the test! These exercises will help you refine your character voices, strengthen contrast, and add depth to your conversations. Exercise 1: Flip the Perspective Take a scene you’ve written and rewrite it from another character’s perspective. How does their voice, tone, and word choice change? What do they notice that the original character didn’t? Exercise 2: Ramble vs. Precision Write a short conversation between two characters. One should be long-winded and rambling, the other short and to the point. Let their speech patterns contrast naturally. Exercise 3: Subtext Matters Write a scene where two characters are arguing—but instead of outright saying what they mean, they bury their true feelings in subtext. Let their words and actions hint at what’s really going on beneath the surface. Exercise 4: Word Choice Experiment Describe the same object (e.g., a broken-down house) through three different characters. A poet, a detective, and a child. Notice how their backgrounds shape their descriptions. Exercise 5: Action Breaks Take a dialogue-heavy scene and break it up with action tags. See how small gestures, facial expressions, or environmental cues can add layers of depth to the conversation. Concluding Thoughts People in real life sometimes sound similar, especially if they spend a lot of time together. But there should be moments where their  voice, worldview, and way of speaking  are undeniably theirs. If you’ve ever spent enough time around someone and started picking up on their idioms or speech patterns, you’ve seen this in action. Your characters will do the same, but that doesn’t mean they should all start sounding like clones. Balance similarity with distinctiveness. So here's the basic golden rule of dialogue: Not every single piece of dialogue needs to sound unique to a character, but every character needs some dialogue that only sounds like them. Now go forth and make your characters sound like actual human beings (or whatever species they are). What’s your biggest struggle with dialogue? Drop a comment below! May every blank page bring excitement and never dread! —Bair✍︎ Endnote: *A soul scar  is the deep, defining wound that shapes a character’s worldview, decisions, and emotional responses. It’s the core of their internal conflict—whether it’s a past betrayal, loss, failure, or fear—that influences how they interact with others, approach challenges, and express themselves. Their dialogue, actions, and beliefs are all filtered through this lingering wound, whether they acknowledge it or not. Want to stay up to-date on get exclusive updates and insights on future projects, book launches, writer and reader resources, FREE literature, writing freebies, and a more? Sign up for my Newsletter ! Find more helpful writing tips on the rest of my blog . Struggling to get your word count in? Check out my writing podcast ! Need a new notebook? Check out my hand-bound books ! Support the blog on Ko-fi ! INSTAGRAM  | LINKEDIN  | PINTEREST Check out My Writer & Reader Merch Store Like this post? Share the link on your social media or pin the image below to your Pinterest board !

The Blank Page & Where to Start So, you want to write? That’s amazing! Maybe you’ve always dreamed of telling stories, crafting worlds, or capturing emotions in words. But when you sit down, staring at a blank page, you feel paralyzed. You ask yourself, " Where do I even start? " Maybe you even think, "I'm not a writer. Why am I doing this?" The doubt creeps in, and suddenly, the excitement you once had starts to fade. You’re not alone. Every writer—whether a beginner or a seasoned novelist—has faced that intimidating void. But the key to becoming a writer isn’t waiting for inspiration to strike; it’s  starting anyway.  The truth is, writing isn’t about being perfect. It’s about expressing yourself, exploring ideas, and allowing your creativity to evolve over time. This  Creative Writing Crash Course  is designed for beginners and intermediate writers who want to build a strong foundation. Whether you’re here to explore storytelling as a hobby, improve your craft, or start a serious writing journey, this course will guide you step by step. In this introduction, we’ll tackle the biggest roadblocks most writers face before even putting words on the page: fear, doubt, and not knowing where to begin. And most importantly, we’ll get you writing—because that’s the only way to become a writer. Ove rcoming Writing Fears & Imposter Synd rome If you’ve ever thought: “What if my writing isn’t good enough?” “What if I don’t have any good ideas?” “What if I never finish a story?” You’re not alone! Every writer, no matter how successful, has had these thoughts. The trick is to  write anyway.  One of my favorite writing quotes compares writing to a faucet. If you let it sit for a long while, it becomes rusty. And when you come back to run the faucet, it comes out as a trickle. Don’t let that discourage you! Keep the faucet running, even if it starts slow—before you know it, it’ll be flowing freely again. You just have to get through some rusty, dirty, muddled water first. Writing is like any other skill—it improves with practice. The more you write, the better you get. But if you never start, you never give yourself the chance to improve. Think of it like exercising a muscle—the more you train it, the stronger it gets. The first few attempts might feel awkward or difficult, but over time, you’ll develop confidence and ease in your writing process. The Myth of “Good” Writing Many new writers think their first draft needs to be brilliant.  It doesn’t.  First drafts are supposed to be messy! Even famous authors rewrite their books multiple times. That voice inside that insists your writing must be perfect on the first try, that’s just your inner perfectionist talking. And guess what? Your inner perfectionist is great at getting you to never start—or never finish. You have to ignore that voice. It’ll keep you stuck in one place, either in a cycle of "I’ll do it later—I’ll write eventually, one day I will" or "This isn’t good enough, I need to keep rewriting this one section." The most important thing is to put words on the page. You can always refine them later. Fear of Failure = Fear of Starting If you don’t write, you can’t fail. But if you don’t write, you also can’t succeed. The only way to grow as a writer is to put words on the page—even if they’re terrible at first.  Perfection is the enemy of progress. It’s hard to overcome perfectionism, but at some point, you have to take the first step. You have to take the leap of faith and just start. Embrace the failures, embrace the road bumps. So don’t worry about being a good writer—worry later about becoming a good  rewriter. One of the best ways to defeat perfectionism is to write with the intention of writing badly. Try setting a goal to write the worst sentence possible, or deliberately make mistakes in your draft. By giving yourself permission to be messy, you take the pressure off and allow your creativity to flow naturally. Mini Exercise: Writing Fears Write down  five fears  that have stopped you from writing. Think deeply—what thoughts creep in when you hesitate to start? Are they related to perfectionism, criticism, or self-doubt? Next to each, list  one small action  you can take to push past it. Make sure these actions are achievable—for example, if you fear your writing isn’t good enough, your small action could be writing for 10 minutes without judgment. Write a short  affirmation or counter-thought  for each fear. For example, if you wrote, 'I’m afraid my ideas aren’t original,' your counter-thought could be, 'Every writer brings their own unique perspective—no story is truly original, but my voice makes it special.' ❌ Example:   “I’m afraid my writing isn’t good enough.”   ✅  Solution: “I’ll remind myself that all first drafts are bad. My job is to get words down and edit later.” What This Course Will Cover Writing a great story isn’t just about having a good idea—it’s about understanding what makes stories work and how to bring them to life on the page.  This course will cover: Finding Your Creative Why  – Understanding why you want to write and what kind of stories you’re drawn to. Genres & Story Structures  – Exploring different genres and the 7-8 basic story archetypes. Conflict & Tension  – Understanding internal vs. external conflict and why it’s essential in every story. Building Compelling Characters  – Creating three-dimensional protagonists, antagonists, and side characters. Plotting & Scene Structure  – Learning how to outline a story and craft engaging scenes. Showing vs. Telling  – How to balance immersive descriptions with clear storytelling. Point of View & Narrative Voice  – Finding the right POV for your story. Editing & Revising  – Turning a rough draft into a polished piece. How to Stay Motivated & Keep Writing  – Tips for beating writer’s block and developing a writing habit. Each lesson will include practical exercises, examples, and challenges to help you apply what you learn. Your First Challenge: Just Start Writing! Before we dive into the first official lesson, let’s break the ice with a quick, low-pressure writing challenge. ✍️  10-Minute Freewrite:  Pick one of the following prompts and write non-stop for 10 minutes. No editing, no overthinking—just write! Prompts: A character stands at the edge of something—what is it, and what are they about to do? Write about someone discovering something they were never meant to find. Describe a place from your childhood as vividly as possible. If you feel stuck, start with “I don’t know what to write, but…” and see where it takes you. Bonus Tip:  Check out my writing podcast! The Tired Writers Podcast  has a wealth of writing prompts to get your creative juices flowing! (Not to mention it's chaotic and funny!) Concluding Thoughts: Writing is a Journey Writing isn’t about being perfect—it’s about exploring, growing, and creating. The best way to start is to give yourself permission to write badly and  keep going . Writing is a valuable hobby that anyone can benefit from. It is a way to explore ideas, emotions, and both real and imaginary worlds. It allows you to express yourself, untangle thoughts, and understand different perspectives. Writing can be therapeutic, challenging, and incredibly rewarding. So, take a deep breath, grab your notebook or open your document, and start writing.  You’ve got this!  I believe in you! “There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” ― Maya Angelou. Write without fear and edit without mercy! Carpe scripturam! —Bair✍︎ 🔜 Next Up: Lesson I – Understanding Your Creative Why Want to stay up to-date on get exclusive updates and insights on future projects, book launches, writer and reader resources, FREE literature, writing freebies, and a more? Sign up for my Newsletter ! Find more helpful writing tips on the rest of my blog . Struggling to get your word count in? Check out my writing podcast ! Need a new notebook? Check out my hand-bound books ! Support the blog on Ko-fi ! INSTAGRAM  | LINKEDIN  | PINTEREST Check out My Writer & Reader Merch Store Like this post? Share the link on your social media or pin the image below to your Pinterest board !

Have you ever opened your manuscript, stared at the blinking cursor, and thought, What now?  Maybe you’ve got a killer opening, an exciting climax, and… a mushy, shapeless mess in between. Where do you go from there? For me, writing is all about asking questions: What happens next? What now? How else can I make my characters suffer for entertainment purposes?  These questions keep the story moving, but answering them on the fly can be overwhelming—especially when your plot starts feeling like a tangled ball of yarn. That’s where scene cards come in. Whether you’re a plotter who loves structure or a pantser who resists planning like it’s a personal attack, scene cards can keep your story on track without killing creativity. Think of them as your story’s GPS—guiding you forward, but flexible enough to let you take scenic detours. Table Of Contents What Are Scene Cards? Why Scene Cards Work How To Create a Scene Card What Is a "Third Rail"? Example of a Scene Card Plotters & Pansters: Why Both Kinds of Writers Will Love Scene Cards Common Scene Writing Mistakes Writer Exercises Concluding Thoughts What Are Scene Cards? (& Why You Need Them) A scene card is a simple tool that helps you organize, track, and refine your story scene by scene. Each card represents one scene and contains key details like: What happens in the scene (the action) Where it takes place (setting) Which characters are involved The scene’s purpose ( why  it matters in the larger story) Conflict/tension (internal or external) The outcome (what changes by the end of the scene) Instead of staring at your manuscript wondering what should happen next , you can glance at your scene cards and instantly know where you’re headed. Why Scene Cards Work (& Why You’ll Love Them) Scene cards aren’t just about staying organized—they make sure your writing stays purposeful. No more filler scenes that meander aimlessly; every scene should develop characters, push the plot forward, or build tension—and scene cards help you catch the fluff before you waste time writing it. Struggling with pacing? Scene cards let you spot slow sections and adjust the tension before the middle of your book turns into a slog. Plus, they make tracking conflict easier—whether it’s internal struggles, external obstacles, or emotional tension, scene cards force you to define what’s at stake before you start writing. And if you ever realize a scene works better earlier in the story? No need for painful rewrites—just move the scene card and tweak the flow without wrecking your entire draft. How to Create a Scene Card Whether you’re using index cards, digital notes, or a whiteboard, a scene card should contain the following: Scene Number – Helps keep track of order. Scene Description – A short summary of what happens. Location & Time – Where and when the scene takes place. Characters Involved – Who’s in the scene? Who’s driving the action? Purpose – Why does this scene exist?  What role does it play in the story? Conflict/Tension – The emotional or external conflict that keeps readers engaged. Outcome – What changes by the end of the scene? (Does the protagonist make a decision? Does something go wrong? Does someone die? Scene # __: Main Point: Subplot: Subplot: The Plot External Conflict Cause What Happened Explain why it matters here Effect The Consequences Explain the Consequences here The Third Rail Internal Conflict Why It Matters Explain why it matters here The Realization Explain why it matters here And so? A Quick Reminder About What The "Third Rail" Is The “third rail” of storytelling, as described in my last blog The War Within vs. The Battles Outside: A Deep Dive into Internal & External Conflict , refers to the internal conflict that drives a character’s emotional journey. Just like the electrified third rail in a subway system powers the train, internal conflict powers the story—without it, the plot won’t move. While external events push the character forward, it’s their deep, unresolved inner struggle—their fears, desires, and misconceptions—that gives the story emotional depth and resonance. Without this internal charge, even the most action-packed plot will feel hollow. Example of a Scene Card in Action To show how this works in practice, here’s an actual scene card from The Glass Dagger , the book I’m currently working on. This scene follows Kyl, the protagonist, as he tries to buy a book—only to be reminded of his low status in a society that values lineage over merit. Scene Number : 5 Scene Description : Kyl tries to buy a book but is refused due to his status. Location : Carpenter’s shop. Time : Late morning. Characters : Kyl, the shopkeeper. Purpose : Reinforce class disparity, deepen Kyl’s internal conflict, foreshadow later events. Conflict/Tension : Kyl is humiliated and made to feel unworthy. Outcome : Kyl skips his next lesson, reinforcing his belief that knowledge is for the privileged. This isn’t just a summary—it tracks the emotional weight of the scene , ensuring it pushes Kyl’s character arc forward. His frustration at being denied knowledge doesn’t just disappear; it lingers, shaping his choices and driving his motivations throughout the story. By using scene cards, I can make sure that every moment contributes to the larger narrative instead of feeling like a one-off event. Want to see this scene card in action with a downloadable template you can use for your own writing? Sign up for my newsletter and get exclusive access to my digital scene card template—plus other insider writing tips, resources, and sneak peeks at my books! Plotters vs. Pantsers: Why Scene Cards Work for Both Whether you’re a meticulous plotter or a free-spirited pantser (read my writing bestie's blog ( Plotter Or Pantser? What Type Of Writer Are You? ) here on what kind of writer you are, and what it means to be a plotter or a panster), scene cards can work for you. Plotters will love the way scene cards provide a structured roadmap while still allowing flexibility—scenes can be rearranged without unraveling the entire outline, pacing stays in check, and every moment serves a clear purpose. Meanwhile, pantsers can use scene cards on the fly, filling them out as they go rather than planning everything upfront. If a scene doesn’t work, no need for a major rewrite—just tweak the scene card instead. Plus, scene cards help keep track of what’s already written, preventing contradictions and keeping momentum strong, so you don’t accidentally send your character on a journey they already finished three chapters ago. Scene cards are about guidance, not restriction. They’re like a compass, not a rulebook—helping you find your way without boxing you in. Common Scene-Writing Mistakes (That Scene Cards Prevent) One of the biggest scene-writing mistakes is aimlessness—if a scene doesn’t contribute to character growth, conflict, or plot progression, why is it there? Scene cards help prevent scenes with no tension or stakes, ensuring that something is always at risk, whether it’s a decision, a consequence, or a shift in power. They also stop repetitive character beats, where a character learns the same lesson five times, making the story feel stagnant. By tracking development and ensuring every scene serves a purpose, scene cards keep your narrative tight, engaging, and always moving forward. Cause & Effect: Why Consequences Are Everything If there’s one golden thread that keeps your story from unraveling into chaos, it’s consequence . Every choice a character makes, every action taken, every moment of hesitation or defiance—it has to  mean something. Otherwise, your story starts to feel hollow. Like things just happen, but nothing really matters . When filling out the “Outcome” section on your scene card, don’t just ask what happened . Ask: What did this change—and what will it change? Cause and effect are the glue between scenes. One event should create a ripple that influences what comes next. That ripple can take the form of: External Consequences : A character lies—and now they’re being hunted. They steal a relic—and accidentally awaken an ancient power. They skip a meeting—and lose an ally. These are tangible, plot-driven results. Internal Consequences : A character lashes out in fear—and later feels ashamed. They confess their love—and are now emotionally vulnerable. They fail a test—and question their worth. These emotional shifts fuel character development and deepen your story’s heart. Both are important. External consequences move the plot; internal consequences move the character. Think of every scene like a domino. The moment it tips, the next domino must  react. Otherwise, you’ve got a scene just standing there doing nothing. So when you’re reviewing your scenes with your cards, ask: What’s the cause  that led to this moment? What’s the effect  it creates going forward? How does the character feel about it —and how does that change their next choice? Because without consequences, there’s no tension. Without tension, there’s no story. And without story… well, we’re just watching people do things for no reason. Scene cards help you catch those gaps—so your characters don’t just do  things… they live through  them. Writing Exercise: Now It's Your Turn To Build a Scene Card Now that you understand how scene cards can keep your story focused and engaging, it’s time to put them into action. Whether you’re a meticulous plotter or a discovery writer who thrives on spontaneity, these exercises will help you refine your scenes, strengthen conflict, and ensure every moment on the page has a purpose. Let’s dive in and start shaping your story—one scene at a time! Take a scene from your WIP and break it down into a scene card: Write a one-sentence summary of what happens. Identify the conflict/tension in the scene. Write down the outcome—what changes by the end? Does this scene move the story forward? If not, rethink its purpose. Concluding Thoughts Scene cards aren’t about micromanaging your writing—they’re about helping you keep focused and intentional. Whether you’re plotting in advance or figuring things out as you go, they help ensure that every scene earns its place in your story. And don't forget! If you want an easy-to-use, downloadable scene card template to start tracking your own scenes, sign up for my newsletter! You’ll get exclusive access to this template and first dibs on writing resources, behind-the-scenes book content, and more. So, if your manuscript ever starts wandering aimlessly like a lost child, scene cards might just be the GPS you need to get back on track. Have you used scene cards before? If not, what’s one scene in your WIP that could benefit from breaking it down? Drop a comment below! Happy writing! —Bair✍︎ Want a FREE scene card template? (+ first dibs on writing resources & behind-the-scenes book content) Sign up for my newsletter to grab your exclusive writing resource pack! Want to stay up to-date on get exclusive updates and insights on future projects, book launches, writer and reader resources, FREE literature, writing freebies, and a more? Sign up for my Newsletter ! Find more helpful writing tips on the rest of my blog . Struggling to get your word count in? Check out my writing podcast ! Need a new notebook? Check out my hand-bound books ! Support the blog on Ko-fi ! INSTAGRAM  | LINKEDIN  | PINTEREST Check out My Writer & Reader Merch Store Like this post? Share the link on your social media or pin the image below to your Pinterest board !

The Struggle Is Real You’ve probably heard the phrase “Show, don’t tell!”  so many times that it haunts your dreams. Writing advice blogs throw it around like it’s the "golden rule" of storytelling—but let’s be real: nobody actually explains how  to do it. So here’s the truth: You need both showing and telling. One makes your reader feel  the story; the other helps move it along.  The trick is knowing when to show, when to tell, (read my blog post here on the importance of both Showing AND Telling ) and how to master the art of showing in a way that makes your prose immersive without turning into a purple-prose nightmare. Read my other article here on what it means to be a " Purple Prose Writer ." In this post, we’re diving deep into how to write vivid, immersive prose by mastering: The five senses and why they’re your best writing tool How to get into your body so your characters feel  real Using deep POV to make your reader experience the story firsthand Writing exercises to help you sharpen your skills By the end, you’ll know exactly how to bring your writing to life—and your readers? They won’t just read your story. They’ll live it . Table Of Contents Why Your Writing Feels Flat Why Showing Is Essential What Are The 5 Senses? Utilizing The 5 Senses Getting Into Your Body The Body Scan Technique Becoming Deep POV Literate When Vivid Writing Becomes Too Much Writing Exercises Concluding Thoughts If Your Writing Feels Flat, This Might Be Why If your writing feels lifeless, and your scenes lack depth, emotion, or engagement, you might be relying too much on telling instead of showing. Rather than stating “she was nervous,” let the reader see her hands fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. Instead of saying “the city was in ruins,” immerse them in the crumbling walls, the air thick with the scent of smoke and ash. The goal isn’t to eliminate telling altogether—it’s about knowing when to let the reader experience the world through the character’s senses. By mastering this balance, you transform passive descriptions into vivid, unforgettable storytelling. Why Showing Is Essential to Strong Writing Showing isn’t just about painting a pretty picture—it's about pulling readers into a story. It 's about making them feel, see, and experience what your characters do. When you show instead of tell, emotions become visceral, settings come alive, and actions carry weight. Instead of saying a character is heartbroken, showing lets the reader feel their grief through trembling hands, hollowed eyes, and the way they can’t bring themselves to step into the room where a loved one once stood. Strong writing isn’t about dumping information—it’s about crafting an experience that lingers in the reader’s mind long after they’ve turned the page. Think about some of your favorite books. The ones that pulled you in, the ones that made you forget where you were, and made your heart race like you’ve just sprinted up a flight of stairs. Go pry those dusty books open and analyze them. Reread your favorite passages and ask yourself why it felt so immersive. Was it because the author was telling you what was happening? Or was it because the author made you feel and experience the story, not just read it. Telling vs. Showing (Side-by-Side Example) Let’s say your character is terrified: ❌ Telling: She was scared. ✅ Showing: Her breath hitched. Her fingers clenched into fists, nails biting into her palms. The shadows stretched longer, darker, closing in. One is a statement. The other is an experience. Readers don’t want to be informed that a character is scared. They want to feel the tightness in their chest, hear the pounding of their pulse, and taste the bile in their throat. That’s why showing is so powerful—it makes readers feel the character’s world. The Five Senses: The Secret Weapon for Immersive Writing Engaging your readers isn’t just about telling them what happens—it’s about making them experience it. By tapping into the five senses, you transform your prose from a flat narrative into a vibrant, living scene. Whether it’s the glimmer of sunlight through a window, the subtle hum of a busy street, the comforting aroma of fresh bread, the cool touch of a gentle breeze, or even the bittersweet taste of regret, each sense adds a layer of authenticity and emotion. Use these sensory details to draw your readers deep into your world, making every moment feel tangible and unforgettable. How to Actually Write Vivid Prose Using the Five Senses Vivid prose isn’t just about describing what a character sees—it’s about crafting an experience that feels real. Instead of saying “The room was cold,” let the reader feel the chill— “Goosebumps prickled her arms as the draft curled around her, slipping beneath her collar like icy fingers.” Each sense adds texture, grounding the reader in the scene. By layering sensory details naturally into your writing, you create an immersive world where readers don’t just observe the story—they live in it. But don't get confused—or overzealous. Showing isn’t just about adding adjectives. It’s about choosing the right details to create a full experience without overloading the prose. If you want to pull readers into your world, your best tool isn’t a massive vocabulary or the overuse of poetic metaphors. It’s the five senses. When you engage sight, sound, smell, taste, and touch, you don’t just describe a scene—you transport your reader into the story. Breaking Down the Five Senses in Writing 👁️ Sight  – The most used sense in writing. But don’t just say “The sky was blue.”   What kind of blue? Was it a deep indigo, a washed-out gray-blue, or so blinding it felt like staring into a god’s eye?* 👂 Sound  – Think beyond dialogue. Footsteps on gravel. The distant howl of wind through cracked windows. The sticky silence between two people who should be talking. 👃 Smell  – The strongest trigger for memory and emotion. A whiff of burnt sugar can bring back childhood. The stench of iron can signal danger. Use smell to anchor scenes emotionally. 👅 Taste  – Often overlooked but powerful. Blood tastes like pennies on the tongue. Fear is bitter, thick, clinging. A lover’s kiss might be sweet, tinged with the sharpness of wine. 🖐 Touch  – Temperature, texture, weight. The heat of sunburned skin, the damp chill of fog, the gritty bite of sand in someone’s boots. Readers should feel  what your characters feel. PRO-TIP: Because scent is so closely tied to memory, I personally love weaving in a character’s past through the smells they encounter. It’s a subtle yet powerful way to reveal backstory, deepen characterization, and evoke emotion without resorting to an info-dump. A whiff of freshly baked bread might transport a hardened warrior back to childhood mornings in their mother’s kitchen. The scent of burning wood could trigger a painful memory of a home lost to fire. Smell isn’t just sensory—it’s storytelling. Use it to layer subtext, nostalgia, or even trauma into your scenes. Example of Layering the Senses ❌ Flat Description (Telling): The alley was dark and smelled bad. ✅ Immersive (Showing): The alley reeked of rotting fish and urine, the kind of stench that sticks to the back of your throat. A single streetlamp flickered overhead, casting warped shadows along the damp brick walls. Notice how layering sensory details creates a visceral image? It’s not just dark—it’s claustrophobic. It doesn’t just smell bad—it’s gut-churning. Getting Into Your Body: The Key to Writing Immersively If you don’t feel the scene, how can your readers? To write scenes that feel real, you need to feel them first. One of the biggest reasons writers struggle with showing is that they don’t fully engage with their own senses  while writing. Pay attention to how emotions manifest physically—where do you carry stress? How does fear tighten your chest? What does exhaustion actually feel like beyond just “being tired”? The more aware you are of your own body’s reactions, the more authentically you can translate them onto the page. Instead of simply saying a character is anxious, describe the tension in their shoulders, the restless bounce of their knee, the way their breath hitches before they speak. By grounding your writing in tangible, bodily sensations, you pull readers deep into the moment, making your story a full-body experience rather than just words on a page. The Body Scan Technique for Writing One of the best ways to strengthen sensory writing is to get into your body. Close your eyes. Where do you feel tension? What does the air smell like? Is your skin warm, cool, clammy? The Body Scan Technique is a mindfulness exercise that helps you tune into physical sensations—an invaluable tool for writing immersive prose. Instead of defaulting to generic emotions like “she was scared,” consider where that fear manifests. A clenched jaw? A twisting gut? Wobbly knees? By first paying attention to your own body, you can better translate sensory experiences onto the page. Before writing a scene, try this: Close your eyes. Take a breath. Notice your body. Are your shoulders tense? Are you warm or cold? Focus on textures and sensations. How do your clothes feel against your skin? What background sounds are filling the room? Now , write as if your character is experiencing it firsthand. This practice builds sensory awareness, making it easier to write scenes that feel alive. Understanding Your Character’s Perspective: How Their Worldview Shapes Their Deep POV Deep POV (Point of View) isn’t just about removing filter words ( “he saw,”   “she thought” )—it’s about fully embodying your character’s unique worldview. Every character steps into a scene with a lifetime of experiences that shape how they think, act, and interpret the world. Their upbringing, past hardships, and personal beliefs all influence how they perceive and react to situations. A character raised in comfort might see a bustling marketplace as lively and full of opportunity, while one who’s struggled with poverty might see it as overwhelming and dangerous. Consider their outlook on life—are they an optimist who believes things will work out, or a cynic who expects disappointment? Do they see the world through a lens of nostalgia, regret, hope, or apathy? A young character who has already endured immense hardship may view love as conditional, while an older character who has lived a sheltered life may still carry a childlike naivety about the world. These factors don’t just inform their internal monologue but also shape the very details they notice. A pessimist might walk into a room and immediately register the cracks in the walls, the frayed edges of a rug, and the way the air smells stale, while an idealist might focus on the golden glow of sunlight streaming through dusty curtains. By weaving in these personal filters, you ensure that your prose doesn’t just describe —it immerses . Readers don’t just see what’s happening; they feel it through the lens of a character who is fully alive on the page. Deep POV isn’t just about telling a story—it’s about making readers feel it. By removing narrative distance, it pulls readers directly into your character’s mind, making emotions immediate, intimate, and authentic. Instead of simply stating how a character feels, Deep POV immerses readers in their raw, unfiltered experience. Instead of: ❌ She was tired but forced herself to keep running. Try: ✅ Her legs screamed with every step, muscles trembling. The air burned her lungs, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. But stopping wasn’t an option. See the difference? Deep POV eliminates emotion labels ( tired, scared, sad ) and replaces them with visceral sensations, internal reactions, and physical cues. It doesn’t just tell the reader what’s happening—it makes them feel it. Example 1: Mira pushed her way to the front of the crowd, eyes wide, heart pounding in anticipation. The scent of spiced honey pastries and fresh-cut flowers hung thick in the air, blending with the warmth of hundreds of bodies packed together. Trumpets blared, and the first shimmer of gold caught the sunlight—robes embroidered with intricate sigils, gemstones twinkling like captured starlight. She gasped, pressing her hands to her chest as the queen’s procession drew closer. So close! She thought. The silk banners unfurled in the breeze, each thread a symbol of power, of legacy, of something greater than her simple life in the weaving district. To see them in the flesh! Her fingers curled into the fabric of her skirt, grounding her in this impossible, dreamlike moment. The nobles passed, resplendent and radiant, their horses adorned in silver filigree. One day, she thought, one day, maybe my hands will weave the very silk that drapes their shoulders. Example 2: Edrik stood at the edge of the crowd, arms crossed, jaw clenched. The cheers around him rang hollow, each voice grating against his ears. The scent of honeyed pastries twisted his stomach—not with hunger, but with the memory of the last time he had stood on these streets, his mother begging for scraps while the nobles feasted inside gilded halls. The fanfare blasted through the square, and there they were, parading through the city as if their every step wasn’t bought with stolen coin and broken backs. The banners rippled, each sigil a mockery of justice, each gemstone winking in the sunlight like a taunt. His fingers curled into fists. Look at them, high and mighty, smiling down at the very people they trample. The queen’s carriage rolled by, her serene face untouched by grief, untouched by the suffering her taxes had wrought. Edrik turned away before rage could turn to something worse—before the grief clawing at his throat could make him do something reckless. See how the same event feels completely different depending on who’s experiencing it? Mira and Edrik are watching the same parade, but their pasts, beliefs, and emotions shape how they interpret it. One sees splendor, a dream made real—while the other sees corruption, a reminder of loss. This is the power of Deep POV. By fully inhabiting your character’s mindset, you don’t just describe a scene—you filter it through their lived experiences, biases, and emotions, making every moment richer and more personal. When Vivid Becom e s Purple: Don't Over-Describe Now, there’s a fine line between immersive, vivid prose and overindulgent, purple writing. If your descriptions feel like they belong in a poetic fever dream rather than serving the story, you might be leaning too hard into the thesaurus. Watch out for excessive metaphors, adjectives that suffocate rather than enhance, and imagery so dense that it slows pacing to a crawl. Vivid prose should create clarity, not confusion. If you’re unsure whether your writing has crossed into purple territory, read your passage aloud—if it takes longer to describe a door opening than it would for someone to walk through it, you might have a problem. (And if you need a deep dive on how to fix it, read here .) Read my blog post " Sometimes You Just Need to Get to the Point: When Telling Is the Right Move "  here to get a more in-depth explanation how to effectively "tell" in your writing. Writing Exercises: Strengthening Your Showing Skills Now that we’ve explored the power of sensory details, let’s put it into practice. Writing is like fine-tuning a radio—sometimes, you need to adjust the frequency to hear the full depth of a scene. The following exercises will help you refine your ability to show rather than tell , heighten sensory immersion, and strengthen your deep POV. Grab your pen (or keyboard), and let’s dive in! Exercise 1: Sensory Expansion Take a bland sentence and expand it using all five senses (without overloading). Basic Sentence: The coffee was strong. Challenge: Describe the coffee using sight, smell, taste, touch, and sound. Exercise 2: Body Awareness Freewrite Write a paragraph where a character is experiencing a strong emotion. Instead of naming the emotion, show it through body sensations. Exercise 3: Deep POV Rewrite Challenge Rewrite these sentences using deep POV: She was terrified. He felt embarrassed. The forest was eerie. Concluding Thoughts Mastering the art of showing through vivid, immersive prose isn’t just about painting a pretty picture—it’s about making readers feel every moment as if they’re living it themselves. By tapping into the five senses, embodying Deep POV, and understanding how life experiences shape perception, you can transform flat descriptions into storytelling that lingers. Whether it’s the scent of a lost childhood, the burn of exhaustion, or the weight of unspoken grief, every detail has the power to pull readers deeper into your world. “Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” – Anton Chekhov What’s a moment in your writing that could be more immersive? Try rewriting it with sensory details and drop your favorite lines in the comments! Good luck with your writing! —Bair✍︎ Want to stay up to-date on get exclusive updates and insights on future projects, book launches, writer and reader resources, FREE literature, writing freebies, and a more? Sign up for my Newsletter ! Find more helpful writing tips on the rest of my blog . Struggling to get your word count in? Check out my writing podcast ! Need a new notebook? Check out my hand-bound books ! Support the blog on Ko-fi ! INSTAGRAM  | LINKEDIN  | PINTEREST Check out My Writer & Reader Merch Store Like this post? 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Writing Advice’s Most Misunderstood Rule: Show, Don’t Tell (& When to Ignore It) The Show vs. Tell Debate You’ve probably heard it before—maybe from a critique partner, a writing teacher, or that one friend who suddenly became an expert on storytelling after watching one MasterClass : “Show, don’t tell!” It’s one of the most common pieces of writing advice, but like most oversimplified rules, it’s often misunderstood. The truth? Both showing and telling have their place in storytelling. Sure, showing can make your reader feel like they’re in the moment, experiencing the rain splatter against their skin, their pulse racing as they stand on the edge of a battlefield. But sometimes, you just need to move things along, and telling is the best way to do that. The key isn’t choosing one over the other—it’s knowing when to use which to craft an immersive and well-paced story. Let’s break it down. Table Of Contents The Power of Showing The Efficiency of Telling Why Telling Gets Hate How To Use Both For Stronger Storytelling Writing Exercises Concluding Thoughts The Power of Showing: When & Why to Use It Showing pulls the reader into the story, making them experience the scene firsthand rather than being told what’s happening. Instead of stating that a character is angry, you reveal it through their clenched fists, clipped words, and stormy expression. Showing allows for subtext, emotion, and immersion, letting readers interpret feelings and actions rather than having everything spelled out for them. It’s what makes a story feel alive, cinematic, and deeply engaging. However, like all tools, it works best when used with intention—not every moment needs a deep-dive into sensory details. When Should You Show? Showing is at its best when: You want to immerse readers in a scene. You need to highlight emotions, tension, or atmosphere. You’re writing key moments like action scenes, emotional confessions, or climactic battles. Example: Telling vs. Showing ❌ Telling: She was nervous before her speech. ✅ Showing: Her fingers clutched the paper so tightly that the ink smudged, her pulse a frantic drumbeat in her ears. See the difference? One informs, the other immerses. Read my blog post " Bringing Your Story to Life: The Art of Writing Vivid, Immersive Prose (How To Show Not Tell) " here on how to actually write "showing" language in your writing. The Efficiency of Telling: When It’s the Better Choice Telling gets a bad rap, but let’s be real—sometimes, you just need to get to the point. Not every moment in your book needs deep immersion. Pacing matters . When Should You Tell? Telling is most effective when: You need to summarize events quickly without dragging the narrative. You’re covering travel, transitions, or mundane details that don’t need a deep dive. The information is important but doesn’t require emotional weight or action. Example: When Telling Works Better Imagine you’re writing a fantasy novel and your characters need to get from Point A to Point B . Do you really need five pages describing every rock they step on? ❌ Showing Overload: The road stretched endlessly ahead, its pebbled surface shifting beneath the horse’s hooves. Each gust of wind carried the scent of damp earth as the travelers pressed forward, muscles aching from the relentless ride… ✅ Telling (Efficient & Effective): The journey took three days, cold and miserable, but uneventful. One is a deep dive; the other is straight to the point. Neither is wrong—it depends on what the moment needs. (However, should you feel a desire to make the time feel like it's pulling on the characters and readers, you may want to go into "showing overload" to give a certain kind of effect. Use wisely, however.) Read my blog post " Sometimes You Just Need to Get to the Point: When Telling Is the Right Move "   here to get a more in-depth explanation how to effectively "tell" in your writing. Why Does Telling Get a Bad Rap? Telling is often villainized in writing advice because, when misused, it flattens emotions, distances the reader, and drains tension from a scene. Instead of experiencing the moment, the reader is simply informed about it. Example: Weak Telling vs. Effective Showing ❌ Telling: She was scared. ✅ Showing: Her hands trembled as she backed away, her breath catching in her throat. One states the fact; the other makes you feel it. This is why telling is often dismissed as lazy or weak—it summarizesinstead of immerses. But before you grab your pitchfork and declare “Death to all telling!”, let’s be clear: Telling isn’t bad. Overusing it is. Why Telling Gets Criticized It Can Feel Distant – If everything is told instead of shown, readers might struggle to connect emotionally. “She felt sad” doesn’t pull you in the way tears burned at the edges of her vision does. It Can Be Boring – Readers don’t want to be given a bullet-point summary of what’s happening. They want to experience the world and characters. Too much telling saps engagement and makes the prose feel lifeless. It Can Kill Tension & Pacing – Imagine a thriller where the author simply states, “The hero felt tense.” vs. building tension through atmosphere, body language, and dialogue. Telling in the wrong places can deflate what should be a gripping moment. But Telling Isn’t Always Bad! Despite its reputation, telling has its place. Not every moment in a story needs deep immersion. Pacing, clarity, and narrative flow all rely on well-placed telling. When Telling Works Best: Summarizing mundane details (e.g., The journey took three days, cold and uneventful. ) Transitioning between major scenes without unnecessary fluff. Prioritizing key information when the action or event matters more than emotional immersion. The key isn’t to avoid telling altogether—it’s knowing when to show and when to tell. Striking the Balance: How to Use Both for Stronger Storytelling Great storytelling isn’t about choosing between showing or telling—it’s about knowing when to use each. Think of showing as zooming in with a cinematic close-up, letting readers feel every pulse-pounding moment, while telling is pulling back for a wide shot, giving just enough context to keep the story moving. A well-paced novel flows seamlessly between both, immersing readers in key emotional beats while efficiently guiding them through transitions. Mastering this balance is what turns a good story into one readers can’t put down. Example: Blending Show & Tell Let’s say your protagonist just witnessed a murder: ❌ Only Telling: She was horrified by what she saw. ❌ Only Showing: Her breath hitched. Her knees wobbled. She stared at the blood pooling around the man’s lifeless body, bile rising in her throat. ✅ Balanced Approach: She wanted to run, but her legs refused to move. Her breath hitched, her heart a frantic drumbeat. She had seen death before, but never like this. See how the final version combines immersion with efficiency? Show & Tell Writing Exercises Now that we’ve broken down the when, why, and how of showing vs. telling, it’s time to put that knowledge into action. The best way to sharpen your instincts for balancing the two is through practice—learning to spot where showing enhances a scene and where telling keeps the pace tight. Below are some writing exercises designed to help you refine your storytelling choices and strengthen your ability to switch between showing and telling with purpose. Now get to it! Writing Exercise #1: Show, Don’t Tell—But Do It with Layers Rewrite these telling sentences as showing, but take it further—use body language, setting, sensory details, or dialogue to add depth. Basic Sentences (Telling): He was furious. She felt cold. The city was in ruins. Challenge Mode: Write two versions of each sentence—one with subtle showing and one with over-the-top, immersive details. Experiment with POV and style. How would this scene look in deep first-person vs. third-person limited? Use setting to reflect emotion. Can the weather, surroundings, or even small background details enhance the mood? Writing Exercise #2: Mastering Effective Summaries Take a long-winded, overly detailed scene (from your WIP or a book you’ve read) and rewrite it into a concise but effective summary. Guidelines: Keep only what matters—what moves the story forward. Maintain tone and voice without bogging down the pacing. Find one small but vivid detail to anchor the summary—just enough to keep it engaging. Challenge Mode: Rewrite it three ways: One-line summary. (Example: Their journey took three days—miserable, cold, and uneventful. ) Two to three sentences with slight showing. Full paragraph with a balance of show & tell—brief, yet immersive. Compare & contrast: Which version feels strongest? Writing Exercise #3: Finding the Balance Write a short scene (150-300 words) that naturally blends showing and telling. Guidelines: Start with deep showing (immersive detail, emotions, movement). Transition into a brief telling moment to move the pacing along. Return to showing for emotional impact in the final sentence. Challenge Mode: Swap with a critique partner (read my blog post " 5 Benefits of a Writing Buddy " here on writing buddies and critique partners) and see if they can spot the balance—do they feel it’s too slow? Too rushed? Rewrite the same scene in pure showing, then again in pure telling—how do they read differently? Try different genres. How would this exercise change in a thriller vs. literary fiction vs. fantasy? Concluding Thoughts At the end of the day, showing and telling aren’t enemies—they’re tools. Knowing when to immerse and when to summarize is what separates good writing from great storytelling. Your job as a writer isn’t to avoid telling—it’s to use it wisely. Give the big moments depth. Move through the small moments efficiently. Keep your reader engaged, not exhausted. I'd like to end this blog post with my most favorite writing quote by E.L. Doctorow:  Good writing is supposed to evoke sensation in the reader—not the fact that it is raining, but the feeling of being rained upon .   Now, tell me—do you find yourself over-showing or over-telling? For me, I'm an over-writer and believe every detail is important and so I tend to over-write and over-show. But which do you struggle with most? Drop a comment below! See you in the next blog! —Bair✍︎ Want to stay up to-date on get exclusive updates and insights on future projects, book launches, writer and reader resources, FREE literature, writing freebies, and a more? Sign up for my Newsletter ! Find more helpful writing tips on the rest of my blog . Struggling to get your word count in? Check out my writing podcast ! Need a new notebook? Check out my hand-bound books ! Support the blog on Ko-fi ! INSTAGRAM  | LINKEDIN  | PINTEREST Check out My Writer & Reader Merch Store Like this post? Share the link on your social media or pin the image below to your Pinterest board !

What Your Character Thinks They Want vs. What They Actually Need Ever notice that your protagonist thinks they want something… but that thing is actually ruining their life. Welcome to the magic of character development! Every great story boils down to this: Your protagonist is wrong about what they want. They’ll fight tooth and nail for it—until your plot slaps them in the face with what they actually need. So if your character immediately gets what they want, your story is over. If they get what they need too soon, your story is boring. Your job? Make them suffer until they figure it out. If that sounds mean, well… welcome to storytelling. Great characters don’t get what they want right away—because what they want  is usually a distraction, an emotional crutch, or a full-on terrible idea. They have to struggle, suffer, and grow before they can recognize what they actually need. That’s where conflict, tension, and emotional depth come from. So let’s break it down: What your character thinks  they want. What they actually  need. How internal vs. external conflict  makes them suffer (for our entertainment). Writing exercises to help you apply this to your own characters. Table Of Contents What Your Character Thinks They Want What Your Character Actually Needs Internal V.S. External Conflict Understanding External Conflict Understanding Internal Conflict Writing Exercises Concluding Thoughts Step 1: What Your Character Thinks They Want (AKA, The Lie They Tell Themselves) Your protagonist is absolutely convinced they need [insert questionable goal here] to be happy. It doesn’t matter if that goal is revenge, validation, money, romance, power, freedom, control, or even just being left alone ( ehem , Shrek ). Whatever it is, they believe it wholeheartedly. The catch? This goal is a distraction from their real issue. Whether it’s a trauma response, an unhealthy obsession, or just plain stubbornness, they believe this external thing will solve their problems. Spoiler: It won’t. But that’s part of the fun—watching them chase the wrong dream while their actual need looms in the background, waiting to be realized (usually after significant suffering). Why Do Characters Cling to the Wrong Goal? It ’s easier. ( Why work on emotional healing when you can just overthrow a kingdom instead? ) It ’s what they’ve been conditioned to believe. ( Maybe society, their parents, or their past trauma have convinced them this is the only way. ) It ’s a defense mechanism. ( If they admit they need love, they risk getting hurt. If they admit they need to change, they risk failure. ) Examples of Characters Who Want the Wrong Thing: Ariel (The Little Mermaid): Wants legs so she can be with Prince Eric. ( Totally ignores the small detail of giving up her voice and entire identity. ) Jay Gatsby (The Great Gatsby): Wants Daisy, convinced she’ll complete him. ( Bro, no. You want self-worth. ) Elsa ( Frozen ): Wants isolation because she thinks it’s the only way to feel safe. ( It’s actually making her miserable. ) Walter White ( Breaking Bad ): Wants money for his family. ( Thinks it’s about security, but actually just craves power and control. ) Katniss Everdeen ( The Hunger Games ): Wants to survive and protect her family. ( But survival alone doesn’t fix the broken system. ) Step 2: What Your Character Actually Needs (AKA, Their Emotional Growth Arc) What they want is external, but what they need is internal—self-worth, healing, purpose, connection, acceptance. This realization doesn’t come easily; it’s usually forced upon them through conflict, failure, or loss. The moment they realize that their original goal was a coping mechanism, not a solution, is the moment their true arc begins . Whether they embrace this need (hello, satisfying character growth) or reject it (cue tragic downfall) is what makes stories so compelling. What your protagonist wants is external. What they need is internal. At some point (preferably after suffering), they realize their goal was shallow, toxic, impossible, or entirely missing the point. The true emotional resolution comes from getting what they need instead. Common “Wants” vs. “Needs” in Character Arcs: What They Think They Want What They Actually Need Revenge Closure & healing Love from the wrong person Self-worth & self-love Power Connection & trust Money/success A sense of purpose Isolation True safety & belonging Control Acceptance of uncertainty Examples of Characters Who Finally Get It: Ariel ( The Little Mermaid ): Learns her voice is more valuable than her legs. Gatsby ( The Great Gatsby ): Well… he doesn’t actually learn. He dies clinging to the illusion. But that’s why it’s a tragedy! Elsa ( Frozen ): Learns that love and connection, not isolation, give her control over her powers. Walter White ( Breaking Bad ): Learns… nothing. His refusal to change is what makes his downfall so compelling. Katniss Everdeen ( The Hunger Games ): Learns that survival alone isn’t enough—she must fight for something bigger. See this blog post here to get more ideas for internal & external conflicts. Step 3: The Role of Internal vs. External Conflict (AKA, Why Writers Are ✨Evil✨) A great story doesn’t just hand the protagonist what they need—it makes them fight for it. External conflict throws obstacles in their path, stopping them from reaching their goal, while internal conflict forces them to confront their own flaws and fears. Maybe they want love but push people away. Maybe they want revenge but struggle with guilt. The best stories make them wrestle with both—because the world isn’t just against them, they’re against themselves, too. Now that we know what they want vs. what they need, how do we make them suffer properly? External Conflict (The World Says “No”) External conflict is everything outside of the character that stands in their way—antagonists, society, nature, or even fate itself. It’s the physical, visible challenges they must overcome to get what they want. Whether it’s a ruthless villain, an oppressive system, or an impending apocalypse, external conflict keeps the plot moving. But the best stories weave internal and external conflicts together—forcing characters to confront not just the world, but themselves. Internal Conflict (The Character Gets in Their Own Way) Internal conflict is the battle happening inside your protagonist—the emotional turmoil, doubts, fears, and contradictions that shape their decisions. It’s driven by their wants vs. needs, unresolved trauma, or deeply held beliefs that the story will challenge. A hero might want revenge but secretly crave peace. A loner might insist they don’t need anyone, yet fear being truly alone. This inner struggle creates depth, making characters feel real, flawed, and human. This is the emotional struggle—their flaws, fears, and deep-seated issues that make achieving their goal impossible until they change. Why Both Conflicts Matter: External conflict keeps the story moving. Internal conflict makes it meaningful. The best stories force characters to confront both. Writing Exercises Now that we’ve explored how internal and external conflicts shape a character’s journey, let’s put this into practice. Understanding the difference between what your protagonist wants and what they actually need is one thing—applying it to your story is another. The best way to internalize these concepts? Get your hands dirty and start writing. Below are some exercises to help you craft deeper, more compelling character arcs. Writing Exercise 1: The False Goal Write down your protagonist’s main goal at the start of the story. Now ask yourself: Is this goal external (money, revenge, love, power) or internal (self-worth, acceptance, purpose, healing)? What happens if they get this goal immediately? ( Does it actually make them happy, or does it lead to a hollow victory? ) What flaw, belief, or fear is making them chase the wrong thing? Writing Exercise 2: The Need They’re Avoiding What lie does your character believe about themselves or the world? What lesson must they learn before they can grow? What moment in the story forces them to confront this truth? Do they accept the truth and change—or reject it and face consequences? Writing Exercise 3: Conflict Breakdown What external force is actively stopping your protagonist from getting what they want? What internal fear or flaw is making them sabotage their own success? What’s a moment in your story where these two conflicts collide? Concluding Thoughts At its core, every great character arc is a battle between what they want and what they truly need. The tension between these two forces drives the story forward, deepens emotional stakes, and makes the resolution satisfying—whether it’s triumphant or tragic. The key is to let your protagonist struggle, fail, and learn (or refuse to). The harder they fight for the wrong thing, the more impactful it is when they finally see the truth. So go forth, make them suffer, and craft arcs that hit your readers where it hurts—in the best way possible. Ask Yourself: What does my protagonist think will solve their problem? What deeper emotional truth are they avoiding ? How does external conflict challenge their want? How does internal conflict force them to change? Your Turn! Drop a comment below: What’s a great example of a character who wanted the wrong thing? Or better yet, tell me how your own protagonist is currently ruining their life. Let’s talk about it! “The greatest conflicts are not between two people but between one person and himself.” – Garth Brooks Now get to writing, I believe in you! —Bair✍︎ Want to stay up to-date on get exclusive updates and insights on future projects, book launches, writer and reader resources, FREE literature, writing freebies, and a more? Sign up for my Newsletter ! Find more helpful writing tips on the rest of my blog . Struggling to get your word count in? Check out my writing podcast ! Need a new notebook? Check out my hand-bound books ! Support the blog on Ko-fi ! INSTAGRAM  | LINKEDIN  | PINTEREST Check out My Writer & Reader Merch Store Like this post? Share the link on your social media or pin the image below to your Pinterest board !

Do you struggle breaking up your writing. Want to improve your pacing and flow of your novel while improving its clarity and make it easier to read? Paragraph breaks are non-negotiable  when it comes to good writing. They serve multiple purposes, such as: ✔ Providing clarity ✔ Preventing reader fatigue ✔ Making stories easier to digest I was inspired to write this post after a recent class discussion where several classmates asked when they should use paragraph breaks. It got me thinking— many writers don’t realize just how crucial they are  for storytelling. So, to keep this blog short, sweet, and simple, let’s dive in! Table Of Contents Common Mistakes To Avoid The TIP-TOP Method Writing Exercises Concluding Thoughts Mastering Paragraph Breaks: When to Use Them, Why They Matter, and Common Mistakes to Avoid Even the best writers make mistakes when it comes to paragraphing. Sometimes, we overuse paragraph breaks, making our writing feel choppy. Other times, we underuse them, creating dense, unreadable blocks of text. The good news? These mistakes are easy to fix once you know what to look for! Below are some of the most common paragraphing pitfalls—and how to avoid them like a pro. 🚨 Mistake #1: Giant Walls of Text (AKA the “Text Brick”) Have you ever clicked on a fanfic or novel and been met with a massive, never-ending paragraph? It’s exhausting to read. ❌ Example (Incorrect): The sun was setting over the city, casting long shadows down the narrow streets. Elena walked quickly, glancing over her shoulder as she heard footsteps behind her. The market ahead was still lively, but she had no time to stop. She ducked into an alley, heart pounding. The footsteps quickened. She gripped the knife hidden in her cloak, breath shallow, waiting. The figure emerged from the shadows, face obscured by the dim light. (If you're reading this on a computer or iPad, it may not be so bad to read, but on a phone it will look clunky.) How to Fix: Break it up where the pacing shifts and when a new action happens. ✅ Example (Corrected): The sun was setting over the city, casting long shadows down the narrow streets. Elena walked quickly, glancing over her shoulder as she heard footsteps behind her. The market ahead was still lively, but she had no time to stop. She ducked into an alley, heart pounding. The footsteps quickened. She gripped the knife hidden in her cloak, breath shallow, waiting. The figure emerged from the shadows, face obscured by the dim light. Why This Works: Each paragraph focuses on one clear idea. The pacing speeds up as the scene builds tension. Shorter paragraphs in suspenseful moments make the reader feel the anxiety. Rule of Thumb: If a paragraph looks too dense, chances are it needs a break. 🚨 Mistake #2: Forgetting to Break Dialogue This is one of the biggest readability issues new writers struggle with—never let two characters’ dialogue share the same paragraph. ❌ Example (Incorrect): “I don’t think we should go,” Mark said, shifting uncomfortably. “Why not?” Sarah crossed her arms. “Because it’s dangerous,” he muttered. This is a mess because it shoves multiple speakers into one paragraph. The reader has to slow down just to figure out who is saying what. ✅ Example (Corrected): “I don’t think we should go,” Mark said, shifting uncomfortably. “Why not?” Sarah crossed her arms. He hesitated. “Because it’s dangerous.” Why This Works: Each speaker gets their own paragraph. It makes the conversation flow naturally and is easy to follow. The hesitation in the last line feels more pronounced because it’s isolated. Rule of Thumb: 👉 New person speaking = New paragraph. Always . No exceptions. 🚨 Mistake #3: Too Many Short Paragraphs (AKA “Choppy Writing”) While paragraph breaks help pacing , breaking too often can make the writing feel disjointed and choppy.  If the same character  is speaking or acting in the same setting, keep it together. (I'm really guilty of this one.) ❌ Example (Incorrect): The sky darkened. The wind howled. She ran. Her breath caught in her throat. A shadow loomed behind her. While this could work for dramatic effect in an intense moment, using it constantly makes the writing feel like a shopping list. Or like an early draft of writing one's novel... ✅ Example (Corrected): The sky darkened as the wind howled through the trees. She ran, her breath catching in her throat. A shadow loomed behind her. Why This Works: The first paragraph keeps related actions together while still building tension. The second paragraph isolates the dramatic moment without making the scene feel choppy. Rule of Thumb: Use short paragraphs sparingly —they hit harder when they stand out. 🚨 Mistake #4: Cramming Multiple Ideas into One Paragraph A paragraph should focus on one idea at a time. Too many shifting ideas in one block of text can overwhelm the reader. ❌ Example (Incorrect): The library was silent except for the scratching of pens against paper. Emma tapped her fingers against her book, trying to focus. She had always loved libraries, but today, she couldn’t concentrate. Across the room, a boy with dark eyes kept glancing her way. The scent of old parchment mixed with the fresh ink of handwritten notes. Why did he keep looking at her? She forced herself to return to her book, but her mind wandered. ✅ Example (Corrected): The library was silent except for the scratching of pens against paper. Emma tapped her fingers against her book, trying to focus. She had always loved libraries, but today, she couldn’t concentrate. Across the room, a boy with dark eyes kept glancing her way. The scent of old parchment mixed with the fresh ink of handwritten notes. Why did he keep looking at her? She forced herself to return to her book, but her mind wandered. Why This Works: The first paragraph grounds us in the setting. The second introduces the distraction (the boy). The third adds a sensory detail that enhances the scene. The fourth isolates Emma’s internal thoughts, making them feel more personal. Rule of Thumb: If a paragraph jumps between different ideas, it’s time to split it up. 🚨 Mistake #5: Ignoring Mood or Perspective Shifts Mood shifts, like going from joyful to tense, or switching between character perspectives, need paragraph breaks for clarity. ❌ Example (Incorrect): The festival was alive with color—lanterns glowing, children laughing, the air thick with the scent of roasting meats. But in the shadows, a figure watched, hand resting on the hilt of a knife. ✅ Example (Corrected): The festival was alive with color—lanterns glowing, children laughing, the air thick with the scent of roasting meats. But in the shadows, a figure watched, hand resting on the hilt of a knife. Why This Works: The paragraph break separates the joy of the festival from the lurking danger, giving each mood its space. Rule of Thumb: When the tone or mood changes significantly, start a new paragraph. Quick Recap of Common Mistakes to Avoid: ❌ Giant text bricks (Break up big blocks!) ❌ Merging multiple speakers into one paragraph (New speaker = new paragraph.) ❌ Choppy writing (Too many short paragraphs disrupt flow.) ❌ Cramming too many ideas into one paragraph (One idea per paragraph!) ❌ Ignoring mood or perspective shifts (Separate different tones & viewpoints.) Now that we’ve covered the most common mistakes, let’s talk about how to structure paragraphs correctly . The TIP-TOP Method A simple way to remember when to start a new paragraph is the TIP-TOP method—which stands for: T ime P lace T opic P erson By following these four rules, you’ll naturally create paragraphs that are clear, engaging, and easy to read. Let’s break it down further! 1.) Time ⏳ This is pretty self explanatory. Whenever time jumps forward or backward significantly—whether through a flashback, a sudden time skip, or even just the next morning—you should start a new paragraph. Example 1: The candle flickered as she pressed the letter to her chest. She had read it a dozen times already, the inked words carving themselves into her memory. Maybe, just maybe, he would come back. Two weeks later , the letter was gone. The ink had faded, the parchment torn at the edges. She had stopped waiting. In this example, the paragraph break helps separate the past from the present , signaling a clear time shift without confusing the reader. Or, if you want a flashback example: Example 2: He traced his fingers along the scar, the jagged ridge of skin a reminder of that terrible night. Five years ago, the flames had spread faster than anyone expected. The entire village had been swallowed in smoke and chaos, his mother’s voice lost in the roar of the inferno. Now, standing in the ruins, he let the memories burn all over again. This break makes the transition into the past smoother and keeps the reader grounded when shifting back to the present. But sometimes, the tone  or mood  of a scene changes so drastically that a paragraph break is needed even if the setting and characters stay the same. ❌ Example (Without a Break – Incorrect): The tavern was warm and filled with laughter, the scent of roasted lamb thick in the air. Alric grinned as he raised his mug, joining in the revelry. But then the door slammed open, and the laughter died. A hooded figure stepped inside, rain dripping from his cloak. The room fell into silence, the tension palpable. Why Is This Wrong? The first part is lighthearted and cheerful, while the second part is tense and ominous. Keeping them together makes the shift too abrupt, almost jarring. ✅ Example (With a Proper Break – Correct): The tavern was warm and filled with laughter, the scent of roasted lamb thick in the air. Alric grinned as he raised his mug, joining in the revelry. Then the door slammed open, and the laughter died. A hooded figure stepped inside, rain dripping from his cloak. The room fell into silence, the tension palpable. Why This Works: The paragraph break gives the reader a moment to breathe before the mood changes. It visually separates the joyful moment from the ominous one. The dramatic entrance feels more impactful when it’s isolated. Other Examples of Mood Shifts 👉 From Happy to Unsettling The festival lights flickered in the night, and music echoed through the streets. Children ran past, laughing. Somewhere in the crowd, someone was watching her. 👉 From Calm to Tense He walked through the empty hallway, the only sound his footsteps against the stone floor. He exhaled slowly, calming his nerves. Then, a whisper. 👉 From Tense to Relief The beast lunged. She braced herself, heart hammering— Then the arrow struck, dropping it mid-leap. So while tone and mood-shifts fall under “Topic” since they introduce a new emotional subject they’re a bit special because they don’t change time, place, or person—only the feeling of the scene. 📌 Rule of Thumb: If the tone  of a paragraph changes drastically, break it up! Mood-based paragraph breaks make your writing more immersive and help readers emotionally process shifts in tone.Whether it’s a sudden moment of dread, a jarring surprise, or a moment of relief, the right paragraph break can heighten the emotional impact of your writing. 2.) Place 📍 Also a bit self-explanatory, a new setting calls for a new paragraph! If your characters move locations or a new setting gets introduced , break it up. Break it up like when you broke up with your toxic ex. Example: The market was alive with movement, merchants shouting over one another, the scent of spiced lamb and baked bread filling the air. She weaved through the crowd, clutching her coin purse tightly. Somewhere ahead, the docks waited. The smell of saltwater hit her first. The shouting of merchants faded, replaced by the rhythmic creak of wooden ships and the squawk of seagulls. She slowed her steps, taking in the rows of vessels bobbing in the harbor, their sails slapping in the wind. But why break there? The first paragraph grounds the reader in the bustling market, and the second introduces the new location—the docks. A paragraph break visually separates the two spaces, helping the reader feel the transition rather than making it feel like the market and docks are part of the same scene. 3.) Topic 🎭 A paragraph should focus on one main idea at a time. When a new thought, mood, or camera-like perspective shift happens, that’s a good time to break it up. Example: She loved the way he smiled. It made her feel safe, like nothing in the world could touch her. Maybe, if she was lucky, he felt the same way. But then he turned away, and a cold dread settled in her stomach. He hadn’t texted her back last night. He hadn’t even looked at her when he walked into the café this morning. The first paragraph establishes a warm, hopeful emotion, but the second shifts the mood entirely. The paragraph break signals this shift, preventing emotional whiplash and allowing the reader to process the change naturally. When writing, imagine your scene as a movie. If the perspective shifts to a different object, character, or viewpoint, a paragraph break helps guide the reader. Example: The assassin watched from the rooftop, blade in hand. Below, the guards patrolled in pairs, oblivious. Inside the castle, the prince sipped his wine, unaware that tonight would be his last. The shift from outside (assassin) to inside (prince) justifies the paragraph break. 4.) Person 👥 When a new or established character is introduced, when there is dialogue being spoken. When multiple characters are speaking is when you should use paragraph breaks Here is the golden rule of dialogue: Every time a new person speaks, start a new paragraph. If each character gets their own paragraph, the reader will be able to clearly distinguish who is speaking. If we crammed everything into one paragraph, it would be harder to follow. Now, let’s see a mistake and how to fix it: ❌ Example (Incorrect): “I don’t think we should go,” Mark said, shifting uncomfortably. “Why not?” Sarah crossed her arms. He hesitated. “Because it’s dangerous.” Why Is This Wrong? The dialogue from two different characters is stuffed into the same paragraph, making it confusing. Who’s talking? Who’s reacting? Breaking it up solves this issue instantly. ✅ Example (Correct): “I don’t think we should go,” Mark said. “Why not?” Sarah crossed her arms. “Because it’s dangerous,” he muttered. Bonus Tip: Using Paragraph Breaks for Dramatic Effect 😱 Sometimes, breaking a paragraph isn’t about time, place, topic, or person—it’s about impact.  If you want to emphasize a shocking revelation, a powerful emotion, or a cliffhanger, a single-line paragraph can work wonders. Example: The tunnel was pitch black, the air thick with the scent of damp stone. She pressed forward, one hand trailing along the rough wall, the other clutching her dagger. A drop of water echoed somewhere in the distance. Then, beneath her fingers, the wall disappeared. Empty space. Why Break Here? The paragraph break before “Empty space.” forces the reader to pause and feel the tension. If this had been left in the same paragraph, the moment wouldn’t hit as hard. By isolating it, the sense of danger is heightened, making it more suspenseful and dramatic. More Uses of Paragraph Breaks for Impact 👉 For Emotional Punch: She thought she had more time. She was wrong. 👉 For a Cliffhanger: The door creaked open. And something looked back. 👉 For a Shocking Revelation: He smiled, soft and reassuring. She almost believed it. Until she saw the blood on his hands. Why Break Here? The pause before the revelation adds weight to the moment, making it land harder for the reader. Put Your Knowledge To The Test!📝 Now that you know when and why to break paragraphs, let’s put your skills to the test! The best way to master paragraphing is through practice—so here’s a quick exercise to help you spot where breaks should go and strengthen your instincts as a writer. Read the following block of text and decide where you would add paragraph breaks to improve clarity, pacing, and readability. Ready? Let’s go! 🚀 💡 Exercise 1: Here’s a block of unformatted text—where would you insert paragraph breaks? Drop your answers in the comments below. How did you decide where to break the paragraphs? The forest was eerily quiet as Elara moved through the underbrush. Every step sent leaves crunching beneath her boots, the only sound in the oppressive silence. She glanced behind her. Nothing. Yet the feeling of being watched refused to leave. She tightened her grip on the hilt of her dagger. A twig snapped to her right. She froze, breath caught in her throat. Slowly, she turned her head. A pair of glowing yellow eyes stared back at her from the darkness. Her heart pounded. Then, without warning, the creature lunged. Task: 👉 Break this into paragraphs where it makes the most sense. 👉 Think about pacing—where do shorter paragraphs increase tension? 👉 Where does a break help shift mood or action? 💡 Exercise 2: Here’s a passage where multiple characters’ dialogue is crammed together in a single paragraph. Your challenge: Fix it by breaking up the dialogue properly! “I can’t believe you did that,” Mira snapped. Kian rolled his eyes. “Relax, it wasn’t that bad.” “Not that bad?” she echoed. “You literally set the table on fire.” “Okay, first of all, it was an accident,” he said. “Second, it was only a small fire.” “Small? The curtains caught!” Mira threw up her hands. Task: 👉 Separate the dialogue so each speaker has their own paragraph. 👉 Make sure the flow of the conversation is clear. Concluding Thoughts Paragraphing isn’t just about making text look nice—it’s a powerful storytelling tool that shapes pacing, clarity, and emotional impact. Whether you’re shifting time, place, topic, or person, or using breaks for dramatic effect, knowing when to hit Enter can make or break your writing. By avoiding common mistakes, following the TIP-TOP method, and practicing with exercises, you’ll develop stronger instincts for paragraphing. Your Next Step: Practice & Apply! ✍ Try out the exercises above! 💬 Share your biggest takeaways in the comments! 📖 The next time you read a book, pay attention to how the author uses paragraph breaks—what effect do they create? Mastering paragraphing is one of those skills that gets easier the more you do it. So keep writing, keep experimenting, and most importantly—have fun with it! What do you struggle with most when it comes to writing? Drop a comment below if this blog post helped—I’d love to hear your thoughts! Happy writing :) —Bair✍︎ Want to stay up to-date on get exclusive updates and insights on future projects, book launches, writer and reader resources, FREE literature, writing freebies, and a more? Sign up for my Newsletter ! Find more helpful writing tips on the rest of my blog . Struggling to get your word count in? Check out my writing podcast ! Need a new notebook? Check out my hand-bound books ! Support the blog on Ko-fi ! INSTAGRAM   | LINKEDIN   | PINTEREST Check out My Writer & Reader Merch Store Like this post? Share the link on your social media or pin the image below to your Pinterest board !

This is long overdue, but I'd like to introduce The Tired Writers Podcast! The Tired Writers Podcast is a writing podcast that I created back in the summer of 2020 with my best friend Kimberly D. Herbstritt during the midst of the pandemic when we had nothing better to do. Read here to learn more about our story and our fateful meeting during a rainy October day in 2019.  Linked above is our debut episode where we tell you what the show is all about! Much of the first season is us goofing around trying to figure out what we wanted get out of the podcast but the second season is much more put together and cohesive. But before a I ramble further, here's the podcast's pitch: The Tired Writers Podcast is an inspirational and motivational show geared towards fiction writers, authors, and creatives to help you unleash your inner storyteller. Here we challenge the listeners to write for twenty minutes in our Write Alongs (writing sprints), where after we encourage you to send in writing prompts for the Write-Alongs or submit your flash fiction for a chance to win a shoutout on our social media, or to be featured on our website. Each episode will be dedicated to various elements and steps of the writing process. Listen for writing tips, tricks, and tools to help you take your creative writing to the next level. Listen on your favorite podcast app to get tip and tricks for you writing. Check out our website to sign-up to our newsletter to get notified when we upload a new podcast episode and to get podcast update. Let me know your thoughts on the podcast in the comments below! Happy writing! —Bair✍︎ Want to stay up to-date on get exclusive updates and insights on future projects, book launches, writer and reader resources, FREE literature, writing freebies, and a more? Sign up for my Newsletter ! Find more helpful writing tips on the rest of my blog . Struggling to get your word count in? Check out my writing podcast ! Need a new notebook? Check out my hand-bound books ! Support the blog on Ko-fi ! INSTAGRAM  | LINKEDIN  | PINTEREST Check out My Writer & Reader Merch Store Like this post? Share the link on your social media or pin the image below to your Pinterest board !