Realistic Character Occupations: U.S. Army Soldier, Patriot Launching Station Enhanced Operator Maintainer (14T)

To win readers over, we need to write characters so authentic they feel like real people. How do we do this? By brainstorming a character’s backstory, personality, needs, desires, and their day-to-day world. Lucky for us, one aspect of their daily life is a goldmine of characterization: the type of work they do.

Think about it: a job can reveal personality, skills, beliefs, fears, desires, and more, which is why Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi created The Occupation Thesaurus, a writing guide that profiles 124 possible careers and the story-worthy information that goes with each.

However, there was only so much space for only so many jobs.

Those of us at Black Wolf Editorial enjoy reading stories that have one of the elusive spies, assassins, or military personnel. On that note, we've coordinated efforts with one of our military connections to create this special entry to accompany The Occupation Thesaurus.

Staff Sergeant David Feinstein is a U.S. Army soldier with the unique role of being a Patriot Launching Station Enhanced Operator Maintainer (14T). That job title might be a little convoluted, but here, in a nutshell, are the key things that a writer needs to know.

Avoiding the Shiny, New Syndrome

There comes a point within a manuscript's life cycle where it loses its shiny luster. Sometimes, it's because we've been working on the manuscript long enough that there is nothing new in it for us to discover. Or maybe we've gotten stuck and have no idea how to move the story forward. Or perhaps we've hit a scene that we just don't want to write though we know it needs to be there.

Regardless the reason for why the manuscript now seems dull to our imaginations, that will be when a new shiny bauble dangles in front of us, distracting our brains from the story we are meant to be working on.

Some writers will chase the new shiny, but following every shiny, new idea can lead to the road filled with incomplete manuscripts. There is one thing that all successful novelists have in common: They finished a manuscript.

As such, every writer wishing to pursue publication needs to develop the discipline needed to persevere on a manuscript that has lost its shiny-new luster.

Trick from the Editor’s Hat: Create character style sheets as you go.

Editing is a BIG job, and sometimes it can seem like it's taking forever. Trying to get a story to flow and hit all the emotional beats at the right points… Getting your head around the nuances of voice, show vs tell, and the dialogue flow… And we shouldn't forget the dreaded punctuation and grammar.

But sometimes, editing has nothing to do with voice, writing style, or what might be in the dictionary. Sometimes, it's the little details that define our characters or settings that need to be filtered through an entire manuscript (or multiple manuscripts).

When you are working with a long story, the little details can sometimes get lost among the screes of words in all the random notes and files that might be thrown all over the place. This is particularly problematic when working in a series where particular characters might be used in story after story.

To help keep the little details straight, create character style sheets as you go.

Scene & Sequel, but not that Scene & Sequel

Sometimes, certain words carry multiple meanings and those multiple meanings can be at complete odds with one another. And when those words are literary terms, writers everywhere are bound to get confused.

The words scene and sequel are two such words.

The common meaning of a scene is as we might see it in a film or on stage. A setting has been pieced together and the characters walk into view to do some action or talk about random things. As writers, we talk about scene transitions with great importance and many of us will break down our manuscripts into scenes. But this is not the scene I'm talking about today.

Nope… Today, we're talking about a scene as the portion of the story that propels the action forward, where characters attempt to achieve goals, and things happen. Scenes are moments of conflict rooted in a constant stream of time. (Note: flashback scenes are rooted in the past.)

The word sequel is just as confusing. Normally, when we talk about sequels, we're talking about the next story in a series. But nope, not today.

Today, sequel refers to those passages where characters reflect over what just happened and form the plan to move forward.

After every scene, you need a sequel.

Are you confused yet? Let's see if we can do something about that.

How “current” should our stories be?

COVID-19 has entirely changed the global landscape and has likely driven a few writers into insanity (not that we weren't insane before). The #BlackLivesMatter movement has changed the landscape too, but in different ways. You put the two forces working together, alongside a whole range of other current events, and it's no wonder that so many of us are confused about what defines a contemporary setting.

But is it vital that we include "current events" into our stories?

I've written about this topic before, recently in fact, highlighting that if our brains are demanding that we write that story, whatever that story might be, then we should write it. Writing can be therapeutic for many writers, myself included, and putting our thoughts to paper can be a vital component of making sense of the crazy that the world has thrown at us. And I dare anyone to say that 2020 hasn't been filled with crazy—and mean it.

But the real question isn't whether we should include these current events into our stories. There are many events throughout history that have had a massive impact on the way we view the world, and that change in mindset should be explored. But by the time a book hits the market, how "current" is it?

Passive Voice: Does it have a use?

It seems like every other day I come across something that is grumbling at me about passive voice. Sometimes, it's the ProWritingAid app, more often than not highlighting deliberate constructions carefully crafted for show. Other times, it's a beta reader attempting to confuse me with their commentary. And occasionally, it will be a discussion with writers about the differences between active and passive voice.

And every time I have a passive voice conversation, I end up scratching my head.

Why? Because some people are so against the use of passive voice that they go out of their way to make everything active. Yes, it is advisable to use active sentence constructions where possible, but sometimes, writing demands the use of passive voice to make it stronger.

I can hear all the naysayers now, ready to pounce. But do you really understand what passive voice is? You think you do, but it's time to shed a few myths and get down to the heart of the passive vs active voice argument.

Let's start with defining what passive voice is.

When Do You Become An Author?

The debate about whether a person is an author or a writer seems to come up frequently. There are those who insist that there is a distinctive difference between the two, something that I have discussed before on my personal blog.

For those who can't be bothered to delve into the depths of my personal blog, according to the Merriam-Webster Collegiate Dictionary, a writer is one that writes (I still want to change that to one who writes, but we move on). Whereas, an author is one that originates or creates or is the writer of a literary work (as a book).

Based on these definitions, I'm stand strong by my belief that a writer is a person who writes. I despise the term aspiring writer, because there is no aspiring about it. You either write or you don't. It's that simple.

However, the transition to the author title is not as clear cut.

Exactly when does a writer become an author?

It might be current, but should we include it?

It's not surprising that I've encountered a decent number of conversations regarding COVID-19 mixed with writing in some fashion. Most have been regarding productivity (and I'm sick of those conversations). A few have been related to whether self-published authors should continue with their publication plans. Others have been related to those seeking traditional roads and querying agents. But a few of them relate to writing contemporary stories and whether we should include COVID-19 into them.

To be blunt, I wouldn't—and here's why put as simply as I can.

Because we're already bored with it.

The Story Grid by Shawn Coyne: The idea is good, but the book is confusing.

A few months back, I was part of a discussion on Facebook about books that are specific to developmental editing. Being a developmental editor, I watched the thread like a hawk. I wanted to know what books are out there and what was high on the recommended lists. Many of the books discussed I already had, but there was one that came highly recommended by several on the thread.

The book in question: The Story Grid by Shawn Coyne.

So, I ordered a copy of the book myself. It took approximately 6 weeks to arrive (shipping to New Zealand is always a long, drawn out wait), and when it got here, I sat down and started reading. And instantly regretted buying the paper version of the book.

Don't get me wrong: the technique presented in the book is gold. The book itself…

The editor NEEDED an editor. It takes forever to get to the crux of the methodology, and when you finally get to the end, there is no discussion on what to do with the full Story Grid, or how to even generate those pretty graphs that Coyne often talks about. At one point, the book became a political statement against Trump, which actually left a sour taste in my mouth. I'm sorry, folks, but a book about editing books is NOT the place to discuss your political views, whatever they are.

Political discussions aside, what really got to me was the word count taken to discuss certain concepts. Waffle! He spent forever circling the drain.

Let's just say that I WILL NOT be adding this book to my list of recommended books for writers. BUT… As a developmental editor myself, I could see the beauty in the method he presented. He tracks the upbeats and the downbeats, and marks the points of transitions within his detailed spreadsheets—spreadsheets that take days if not weeks to compile. Pretty graphs seem to magically come out of it (the magic of which was not explained, unless that was something that I missed entirely, which wouldn't surprise me). But the idea of understanding the rise and fall of tension is something that is incredibly important. It's for this reason alone that I think many writers keep pointing other writers to this book.

However, much of the details in the book could be compressed into a more concise format and rewritten so it's understandable by all writers.

So, that's what I'm going to do. It's a tall ask for a single post, and I'll likely fail, but if I don't try, then the knowledge that I've gleaned from this book will likely be lost in the filing cabinet that is my brain.

To US English or to UK English? Is that really the question?

Frequently, I find myself in the middle of a conversation talking about whether something should be written in US English or UK English. Sometimes, it's related to how something is punctuated (and yes, there is a difference between the two for some punctuation rules). Sometimes, it's in regards to whether a story would work better written in one versus the other—normally focused on whether a story set in the UK should be in UK English. And sometimes, it's connected to the frustrations that those around me have with Americans who don't understand that UK English is different to US English.

Within these conversations, I find myself becoming a bit of a broken record, asking the same questions over and over again. And it all comes down to one idea…

Who is your target audience?

So, let's break this down and really look at why understanding who your target audience is will determine which variant of English you use.