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Lydia Speas

          Technology is taking over the world.

It feels like that sometimes, doesn’t it? With phones, laptops, and TV’s, the majority of our lives are viewed through a screen. You’ve probably noticed the gradual abandonment of the good old-fashioned paper book, and the rise in popularity of e-books and audiobooks, which are generally considered to be “more convenient.” I mean, you’re even reading this blog post through a screen, so you might ask what’s the big deal? The big deal is that there is something that is lost when we leave the physicality of paper books and switch over completely to digital books.

You might push back against this idea and say that there is no difference. Paper books, e-books, audiobooks…they’re all books right? However, you don’t have to take just my word for it. I’ll prove it to you by showing you the research that there is, in fact, a real difference. There are proven negative effects of reading solely from digital books. These effects include reduced levels of reading comprehension, as well as health effects such as disrupted sleep patterns, higher stress levels, and eye fatigue.

I am not suggesting that e-books and audiobooks should never be used again. I am suggesting, however, that convenience does not always mean better when it comes to reading. In the case of paper books versus digital books, I am convinced that prioritizing convenience by choosing digital texts can take away from the special experience of reading a paper book. But again, don’t take my word for it. Here are the facts…

The Research Facts

Most of the research regarding the comparison of paper books versus digital and audiobooks looks at the impacts on reading comprehension. Research shows that comprehension is around six to eight times greater with paper books rather than digital (Artushin “The Case for Paper: Books vs. E-Readers). You may have experienced this for yourself, when you zone out while listening to an audiobook and can’t fully remember what was being said. It can be more difficult for people who are not aural learners to understand everything that’s being said in an audiobook. Many enjoy listening to audiobooks for the ability to multitask while listening to a book. However, this can be a serious disadvantage. The temptation to do other work while reading divides people’s attention, keeping them from being able to absorb the content of the book fully (ReadMax “The Rise of Audiobooks: Pros and Cons of Listening vs. Reading”).

The lowered rates of reading comprehension from digital books have been scientifically proven to be caused by the lack of a physical, grounding element. This results in the brain being unable to comprehend and recall as much information from reading. Reading paper books has been proven to be more engaging for the mind by being able to physically keep track of where one is in the plot, which helps the reader retain more information. Reading a physical book provides a unique experience for the brain as it is completely immersive. Researchers have found that physically turning pages creates a type of map in the brain visualizing what was read on a particular page, allowing the mind to better retain information (Artushin “The Case for Paper: Books vs. E-Readers).

The declined rates of reading comprehension for people who read solely from e-books and audio books have also been attributed to the distractions that inevitably come with technology. Technological distraction in digital reading is shown in the form of Internet links, ads, and social media. These unnecessary distractions inhibit the reading and learning process as the mind is not fully engaged while reading. This again begs the question of whether the convenience of audiobooks and e-books is really the best way to go when it comes to reading.

The Health Facts

I know that was a lot of information, but the facts don’t stop there. This probably isn’t what you want to hear, especially if you’re one who is a solely e-book or audiobook reader, but there are a lot of proven negative impacts on the health of those who only read digital books. But as I said, I’m here to show you the facts, and maybe you’ve experienced some of these effects yourself…

Scientifically it has been shown that the light emitted from the screens, also known as the dreaded “blue light,” while reading e-books, disrupts sleep patterns by sending signals to the brain to remain awake, causing sleep deficiency. Ever wonder why it’s so hard to fall asleep after staring at your screen for hours? And yet, somehow, it’s all too easy to drift off when you finally decide to read a book before bed? The “blue light” is why.

Not only can e-books affect one’s sleep, but it has also been linked to higher stress levels. The constant scrolling one does while reading an e-book doesn’t allow the brain to rest, which doesn’t allow the body to truly relax, and overall encourages broken focus and short attention spans. As a result, long hours of screen time have been linked to not only stress, but depression in some people (Medical Daily “E-Books Are Damaging Your Health”).

One more health fact to throw at you is the issue of eye fatigue, which has also been counted as another negative factor from e-books specifically from staring at screens. To again quote the article “The Rise of Audiobooks: Pros and Cons of Listening vs. Reading” by ReadMax, “Reading for long periods can lead to eye strain, especially when using digital devices. Prolonged screen time can cause discomfort, headaches, and even long-term vision problems. While e-readers like the Kindle have been designed to reduce eye strain, they still cannot replicate the ease on the eyes that physical books provide.” This is one that I can personally attest to, as I’m sure many of you “doom scrollers” out there can as well.

Conclusion

So, there you have it – the facts. It is my hope that after reading this you clearly see the benefits of using traditional paper books over e-books and audiobooks. Although convenient, there is definitely something lost when we leave paper for technology. The satisfaction of holding a story in your hands, the anticipation of flipping to the next page to find out what happens next; all of this is lost in e-books and audiobooks, which lack physical connection and negatively affect reading comprehension and even health.

In light of this, let’s break the cycle of our technology-ridden world, and at least in the world of reading, keep it old-school and pick up a paper book.

References

Artushin, Heather. “The Case for Paper: Books vs. E-Readers.” Psychology Today. 2 February 2024, The Case for Paper: Books vs. E-Readers | Psychology Today

“E-Books Are Damaging Your Health: Why We Should All Start Reading Paper Books Again.” Medical Daily. 11 January 2015, E-Books Are Damaging Your Health: Why We Should All Start Reading Paper Books Again

Rylee Nyberg

One of the most important skills a growing writer can develop is the ability to identify the passive voice in their own writing. The passive voice, while grammatically correct, should be avoided in the bulk of creative writing as it may make your work seem clunky, vague, and overly complicated. Knowing when to utilize the active and passive voice in your writing will help you grow into a clearer, more engaging storyteller.

What Is the Passive Voice?

In a passive sentence, the object of the action verb becomes the subject of the sentence, sometimes even omitting who performs the action. The passive voice emphasizes the object receiving the action.

• Passive: The book was read by Jake.
• Active: Jake read the book.

In the active voice, Jake is the clear subject of the sentence. He performs the action of reading, which is received by the object, the book. The active voice puts the doer of the action before the action verb, making the sentence concise and clear.

How to Identify Passive Voice

Identify the passive voice in your writing by using the following tips and tricks:

1. Excessive use of “To be” verbs: words like was, were, is, are, been, and being followed by a past participle (or a verb turned to an adjective).
   • Examples: The book was written. The work is being done. They went to watch the movie
2. Is the subject clear? The phrase “by [someone/something]” at the end of a sentence suggests it is in the passive voice. Often, the word following “by” is the true subject of the action. Benjamin Dreyer identifies passive voice with the phrase “by zombies.” “If you can append “by zombies” to the end of a sentence,” he states, “you’ve indeed written a sentence in the passive voice” (14).
   • Examples: The book was written by zombies. The work was done by zombies. The movie was seen by zombies. Mistakes were made by zombies.

Why Should You Avoid Passive Voice?

• The passive voice can affect your clarity: sentences in the passive voice can become bogged down and wordy. The point of the sentence can become convoluted and unclear.
• The passive voice can remove the subject: The passive voice sometimes omits the doer of an action. For example, “the students were given the book” omits the professor who is responsible for the action. “The professor gave a book to the students” provides the information the previous sentence lacked.
• Passive writing can make your writing sound dull and redundant; the active voice can make for an overall more engaging piece of writing. The constant repetition of “to be” verbs like was, is, were, are, being, and been can fatigue and bore readers.

Tips to Avoid the Passive Voice

1. Make the subject the superstar:

Who is performing the action in the sentence? The predicate should dictate the actions of the subject. Place your intended subject at the beginning of the sentence.

• The movie was seen by the students. → The students saw the movie.

2. Eliminate the “to be” verbs:

A helpful tip is to find (ctrl + F) every instance of the word “was” in your writing. Often, you’ll find it can be replaced with a stronger verb. The same goes for other “to be” verbs like is, are, were, being, and been.

• The book was written by them. → They wrote the book. The work was done by the crew. → The crew did the work.

3. Rearrange your sentences for clarity.

If you follow the first two steps, you’ll find this one is already complete and you’re well on your way to constructing more active and engaging sentences.

When is it Okay to Use Passive Voice?

Though the passive voice should usually be avoided, there are instances where passive voice is both necessary and useful.

• When the doer is unknown or irrelevant
  • “The road was paved in 1830.”
• When you want to emphasize the action instead of the subject
  • “A cure for the disease was finally discovered.”
• In scientific or formal writing
  • “The experiment was conducted in a controlled environment.”

Final Thoughts

Knowing when to use and when to avoid the passive voice can quickly and effectively strengthen your writing. The next time you’re editing your writing, be on the lookout for clunky sentences and unnecessary “to be” verbs. Be passive-aggressive!

Zipporah Marse

Staring at a blank document isn’t easy. Wherever you’re writing—whether it’s on Google Docs, Microsoft Word, or a plain old piece of paper—the bright white of that page gets increasingly more blinding as you realize how few words you have to populate it. Many writers share this anxiety. What if nothing comes out? What if what does come out is the worst ever? Why can’t there already be words on this page?

Well, what if I told you there can be words already on the page?

Many have heard the phrase “writing is revising,” but what does it actually mean? Revising is more than taking a rough draft of a piece and fixing a few misplaced words or commas; it’s revising. It’s overhauling the entire project and changing it to make it that much better. It’s taking two sentences from a note on your phone and turning it into three pages of narrative. It’s the sapling growing from a seed, getting bigger and bigger until it finally turns into a tree; all you have to do is water it.

Sorry for calling your passion project a tree. Stay with me.

If you think of revising as the act of turning something small into something big, suddenly there is no blank page to work-from-nothing on; there is only a jumble of notes that you have to revise into a story. So, take your abstract thoughts from your journal onto your page, record yourself talking about your project and transcribe your words into full sentences, simply type the names (or just adjectives) of your main character onto your Word doc. Give yourself words to stare at instead of a blank page.

I’m not here to lecture you about plotting, but plotting is the easiest way to get words to come to you. Whether you want to die by the hero’s journey, concretely separate your scenes into three acts, or just include a simple beginning, middle, and end, plotting gives you parameters to fit your words into. Give yourself a seed to grow into a tree instead of trying to will one into existence from nothing.

Once you have characters, plotting (or a general idea of where you want the story to go), and a few sentences stuck in your mind, you can either jump right into your first attempt at a draft or you can keep fiddling around, writing just a few paragraphs at a time or expanding on some of your research—as long as you get around to your first draft sooner or later. With your notes behind you, it doesn’t matter if your first draft is the worst, because deleting it doesn’t mean going back to nothing, it means going back to your notes, which you’ve already built on before.

Once you have enough of your narrative in actual prose form, then you might reach what people usually refer to as revising. This is scary, but it shouldn’t stop you. During this critical trek through your writing, you must remember that even if you erase the pages you just finished writing, that doesn’t mean you wasted time or the words you wrote are useless—quite the contrary. It means you’ve developed your world, characters, and voice enough that what you wrote at the beginning doesn’t fit anymore. It’s concrete proof that you’ve grown and have already learned so much about yourself and your story in just those few pages.

When I write, I always have a specific document I call “dumping grounds,” where I put paragraphs that I really like but simply didn’t fit in my story anymore. Maybe I’m sensitive and can’t stand killing my darlings, or maybe I will be able to return to my segregated paragraphs and pull something useful out of them later, but just the act of saving them, and not outright deleting them, always gives me the boost I need to let myself completely rewrite something with a brand-new draft.

Having copywriters, or just close friends you trust with your story, can be great, but don’t let them deter you from properly revising something. If you don’t love the way a specific scene ends, don’t wait for line edits to make it work better; go back, go big picture, and figure out if there’s another way you can end the scene before giving your trusted narrative to an editor. While you’re at it, let the edits you receive wash over you like that water pouring over a sapling. If you’ve already been willing to cut apart and redo your work several times, the few pricks and prods of editors shouldn’t feel like more than a quick sting. You, and your story, are growing. Take the advice and grow.

Sometimes, you get to the end of a story and you’re satisfied. Sometimes, you’re not. Unless the due date is right around the corner, you need to give your story time to cement on its own without your wide eyes watching over it every second of the day. Your satisfaction, or dissatisfaction, will fade, and you’ll eventually be able to return to your story with the perspective needed to continue it. Whether continuing means adding or taking away a few scenes or once again starting from scratch with a whole new draft, you’ll be ready to take that task on, because that’s what you do. You’re a writer. You write. Yet, at this point, with all of that behind you, you’re certain that what you’re doing right now is revising.

Heavenlee Vaaj

Introduction

Do you ever get frustrated about the protagonist pulled into another prophecy? Or found out that your favorite side character was the villain all along? What about the childhood best friend who is second-hand to the love interest? Cliché tropes will find a way to seep through even the most promising works that strive to stray away from them. While these typical characters may be inevitable, there is a right way of incorporating these repetitive themes without overdoing their stereotypes.

What are Cliche Tropes?

A cliché trope is an overused, predictable element of a story, whether it’s an unoriginal plot or conventional protagonists. However, skilled writers realize it’s more than just the characters that can be found in The Breakfast Club. They don’t simply create a band of the popular cheerleader, a football player, and the anxious, nerdy teenager, but authors compose elaborate personalities. Think, Pride and Prejudice, The Great Gatsby, and even Lord of the Rings. What do these novels have in common? These popular works maintain their ability to engage audiences, regardless of trite components. Let’s take a look at some basic examples.

1. Enemies to Lovers Trope: The classic I hate you, but I find myself drawn to you trope. (E.g., Elizabeth and Darcy, Shakespeare’s Beatrice and Benedick, Kate and Anthony, etc.)
2. American Dream Trope: An aspiring young character hopes to find new life and identity in America, usually confronted with racial issues. (E.g., To Kill a Mockingbird, Of Mice and Men and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.)
3. The Chosen One Trope: An unlikely protagonist is chosen to fulfill their destined prophecy, sometimes accompanied with a gang of misfits. (E.g., Harry Potter, The Maze Runner and the Wings of Fire Series.)

You get the gist. Though, when we focus on characters, these are the top three you may bump into when reading a novel:

1. Reluctant Hero: A character who never wanted to be the hero, but for some reason, the fate of the world depends on it. Take Katniss from The Hunger Games, she only became a hero to protect her sister, not necessarily because she hoped to become one.
2. Old, but Wise Mentor: The skilled elder who disciples the hero into a better person. Dumbledore, Gandalf, all that jazz. Bonus points if they turn out to be evil, or they’re closely related to the protagonist.
3. Damsel in Distress: Your typical, helpless female character that’s always in need of saving. Every. Single. Time. If you’re thinking of Buttercup from The Princess Bride, you have a pretty good idea of what this is.

What does NOT work?

Now that we have an understanding of the most common factors in Young Adult literature and media, let’s discuss what does not work. Authors should never avoid ignoring the in-depth details when writing tropes. While clichés  can lack original thought, writers can counter this by exploring important values in their personality. Furthermore, characters are much more complex than their trademark. Percy Jackson is not just the “chosen one” and the son of the god Poseidon. He’s compassionate, determined and has an emotional connection with his mom that motivates him to go seek his true identity. I’ve tracked down a more specific list of what may be detrimental in storytelling.

1. Unrealistic archetypes that are not at all relatable.
2. Simply telling what makes a character cliché, instead of actively showing.
3. Overselling the banal attributes of a trope. (It should not be their entire reason of existence.)

Cliché tropes are widely disliked because they are overemphasized and shallow. Take Bella Swan and Lois Lane, for instance. These women are the stereotypical, helpless love interest to the main hero– both possess similar character archetypes, but there is a difference in personalities between the two. For Bella, she has a pessimistic outlook on life, and to be frank, careless about the people around her unless it’s Edward, her boyfriend. She is the “new girl” who takes interest in the “bad boy” of her high school.

Lois Lane, although she requires saving from Superman, relates to the audience because she’s highly opinionated and hard working at her job. She was written with emotional depth and her character is beyond just being Superman’s love interest. I would argue that the latter plays a more compelling role because Lois possesses richer attributes that transcends a typical damsel in distress.

What DOES work?

These are suggestions on what to avoid when writing a piece. However, how are tropes done right? How does the inevitable become unique and appealing? Take a look at the following:

1. Characters who are 3 dimensional.
2. Plots that have a creative twist.
3. Writing details that are more expressive than their mundane cliches.

One of Us is Lying by Karen McManus is one novel that doesn’t lose its substance. In this thrilling story, the author introduces four characters suspected of murdering the misfit: the stoner, the jock, the brains, and the princess. They may appear with tedious personalities, but the chemistry between this trope advances the plot forward. For instance, the nerd stereotype is not the smart teenage girl who stutters in class with straight A’s. She’s headstrong, passionate for people she cares about and is all about second chances, which are qualities not often associated with the typical nerdy roles. When we critique the jock stereotype, he is not all bark and no bite. Rather, the jock is sensitive to the feelings of others, and takes a courageous stance when the opportunity arises. When authors implement practical purposes behind a character, it fosters a deeper appreciation for who they truly are.

Conclusion

Cliché tropes are inevitable but can be refreshing if they are constructed in a nicely balanced manner. A well-written character, no matter how flat their traits are, has diverse aspects that reveal their more profound motivations and drive. The key to incorporating effective clichés  is playing with innovative backgrounds that define the characters, and reimagining tropes to a more authentic level. Once these perspectives are enforced, literature and media in the young adult genre become much more enjoyable.

Works Cited

Allen, Anne R. “Tropes and Archetypes vs. Clichés.” Anne R. Allen’s Blog… with Ruth Harris, 16 October 2022, . Accessed 11 February 2025.https://annerallen.com/2022/10/tropes-and-archetypes-vs-cliches/

Glatch, Sean. “How to Avoid Clichés in Writing: Tips & Exercises.” Writers.com. Achttps://writers.com/how-to-avoid-cliches-in-writing. 11 February 2025.

Hannah Noel

When one sits down to read a creative nonfiction book, such as a memoir or biography, it is natural to expect accurate, factual information. After all, it’s in the name of the genre. Nonfiction. No fiction here!

Yet there can be some confusion involved in the writing or reading of creative nonfiction. When there is no information on the emotions of a certain historical figure, or if the author of an autobiography forgets aspects of an old anecdote, should the whole book be thrown out, denounced as nothing but tall tales? Certainly not! But it does raise the question: What is the line between truth, fact, and fiction?

Firstly, we should establish the difference between nonfiction and creative narrative nonfiction. Both genres focus on conveying accurate details about a situation or person; the difference is in the execution. A purely nonfiction book reads like a textbook, focused on transferring brute information to an audience. Creative nonfiction narratives aim to convey facts through storytelling. These stories might take the form of memoirs or autobiographies.

The nature of creative nonfiction writing requires one to interpret real events through a narrative lens. Even diaries and journals are filtered through a biased human perspective and the faulty trap of human memory. If one wishes to write a nonfiction narrative, one must accept that, occasionally, liberties must be taken. When deciding what information to stretch, there are certain factors to take into consideration. Authors should write with integrity and transparency, especially when claiming their stories are factual. Authors should also consider the purpose of the story when ranking their priorities.

Say you want to write a creative nonfiction piece about starting college. If your goal is to accurately portray the college application process, you might research your school’s website for the requirements rather than relying on memory alone. On the other hand, if you wanted to write an encouraging piece about how you dealt with freshman year roommate drama, you would likely lean more on your memory. In this example, the purpose is to share a story of personal conflict, even when you might not remember all the details of the drama between you and your roommate. Therefore, specific details might not have as much importance as the authenticity of the experience. At least, you would be able to expand on what you remember in order to convey the emotion. Though the facts in the story might become occasionally unclear, you can still write a truthful story.

Historical creative nonfiction stories are a bit trickier, but the same measure still applies. What you as the author expand on is a product of your available information and the purpose of your story. Of course, this heavily relies on authorial integrity. If a story becomes more speculative than factual, then there is no need to label it as creative nonfiction. It is important to recognize the responsibility you hold as an author over the details you convey as reality.

At the end of the day, creative nonfiction writing should be seen as a branch of nonfiction, being built on a foundation of proven events, but taking aspects of narrative to engage the audience emotionally. Emotion and experience provide a resonating truth that facts and figures can overlook. Writing creative nonfiction narratives allows one to expand on available information in order to depict the honest perspectives and feelings surrounding the events of the story. Though both are necessary, it is important to recognize the difference between definitive fact and authentic truth when writing a creative nonfiction narrative.

Samantha Villanueva

A piece of advice many beginning writers receive is “writing what you know.” While this statement can mean topics and situations a writer is familiar with, it can also extend to the types of stories one is familiar with. Someone well-read in the mythologies of ancient or even modern societies will most likely be able to conjure a story with those elements, and the same can be said with a writer who frequently reads fantasy adventure books. Writers, and people in general, are heavily influenced by the stories they consume, whether they know it or not.

Many writers take this advice literally and will reimagine well-known stories for a more modern audience. Three of the most common types of stories constantly filling up bookstores with reimaginations are fairytales, ancient mythology, and history. Each of these categories has engaging narratives, from life lessons to mere entertainment factors. Writers will either make references to these stories in their novels or completely reimagine the framework and characters of the tales to create their own world and story to tell. Reimagining these types of stories is important, as it introduces new audiences to interesting and ancient stories from all different types of cultures. History is important to any society, and old myths, fairytales, and other cultures’ histories are included in that broad spectrum of literature.

This blog post will focus on an example from each category, highlighting which story they derive from and how the writer supplants the reader’s expectations while also using their preset notions of and familiarity with the tales to tell their own stories.

Fairytales: One Dark Window by Rachel Gillig

There is certainly no shortage of novels focusing on the reimagining of fairytales in the young adult genre, and Gillig’s is no exception. One Dark Window, the first installment of Gillig’s The Shepard King duology, is a fantasy romance novel following the main character, Elspeth Spindle, on her unlikely adventure to help a gang of highwaymen save their withering Kingdom of Blunder. Full of magic, romance, and mystery, the fairytale element does not go unnoticed.

One of the leading magical elements in the novel is the use of “Providence Cards,” where the wielder can control the power within by touching a the card. Along with the cards, some have the power to control magic without using them, but by order of the kingdom, they are killed upon their infection as children. Elspeth is one of these individuals, and her magic ability is to absorb the cards’ magic, which she accidentally uncovers as a child after secretly holding her uncle’s newly obtained Nightmare Card, and the mysterious creature within the card begins living in her mind. Throughout the novel, Elspeth calls upon the Nightmare to give her superhuman strength and speed to get her out of trouble. However, the downside of using her magic, also known as her “Degeneration,” leads to Elspeth losing herself to the Nightmare.

The relationship between Nightmare and Elspeth is similar to that of the well-known fairytale Beauty and the Beast, but with Beauty becoming the Beast instead. This twist in a well-known fairytale trope allows Gillig to tell her own story and set up a world and a tale that will get the reader interested in the story’s familiarity and then invested in its differences. Instead of the Beauty taming the Beast, Gillig inverses the role, where Elspeth (the Beauty) is turned into the beast because of the Nightmare. By utilizing this familiar tale and inverting it into a new type of fairytale, Gillig creates a new and imaginative fantasy novel that draws the reader in with its creative characters and setting—something so familiar yet interesting to a new type of audience, allowing them also to imagine how classic fairytales can be reimagined in new ways.

Mythology: The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

One would be amiss in discussing ancient mythology adapted into modern novels without discussing Greek mythology. As one of the most popular and most studied ancient religions today, Greek mythology and its subsequent plays and epics have been adapted into various types of literature for centuries. This rise in popularity mainly stemmed from Rick Riordan’s critically acclaimed Percy Jackson series, leading many young audiences to research and learn about Greek mythology in the early twenty-first century. While Riordan’s series might be the most well-known modern adaption of ancient Greek mythology—along with Norse, Egyptian, and Roman in subsequent book series—he was certainly not the first.

Miller’s novel The Song of Achilles explores the lives of Greek heroes Achilles and Patroclus and their relationship before and during the Trojan War, revealing sides and emotions not seen in Homer’s Iliad. The novel, written from Patroclus’s point of view, follows the young men from when they met as children and how their relationship blossoms, along with their time in the Trojan War and their personal experiences in the deadly war. The novel draws upon its source material, Homer’s Iliad, by including prominent characters (Agamemnon, Odysseus, Menelaus, Ajax, Lesser Ajax, Helen of Troy, Paris, Hector) and the conflicts established in the epic, such as how Achilles’s mother, the ocean nymph Thetis, prophecies this demise on the battlefield, his anger toward Agamemnon for stealing Briseis away from him and refusing to return to the battlefield, Patroclus dressing as Achilles which leads to Hector killing him, and many more. Miller also includes surrounding and lesser-known mythology not included or elaborated on in the epic but found elsewhere in the culture, such as Achilles posing as a woman by his goddess mother to avoid him going off to war and Patroclus’s past as an exiled prince.

Using these multitudes of sources, Miller creates and reimagines these well-known Greek heroes, establishing a better timeline of events not seen in the original epic story and adding depth to these prominent characters in an ancient and well-studied text. Miller uses established canon for the characters while making them her own to create a story that encapsulates the energy and emotions of Homer’s epic and creates her own engaging narrative.

History: Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao

Described as “Pacific Rim meets the Handmaid’s Tale” by its author, Iron Widow reimagines the history of China’s only female emperor, Wu Zetian, as a futuristic sci-fi world. Despite taking many creative liberties for the novel, Zhao uses well-known historical facts about the time and era, such as the strict patriarchy and treatment of women, and many historical figures. Zhao uses and reimagines Wu Zetian’s story of climbing the ranks from the emperor’s concubine to becoming the first and only female emperor as a way to tell her own story.

Iron Widow follows the fictionalized version of Wu Zetian, a peasant girl who her parents send off to become a concubine pilot for giant transforming robots called Chrysalises. This is a job where many girls die because the psychic connection between them and male pilots, which requires them to pilot the robots together, draws on their qi, the life force that flows through every living thing, and the connection is so strong it breaks the girls’ minds, making them dependent on the male pilots’ qi. However, Zetian isn’t taking this job because it will help protect her family from the mecha aliens that roam beyond the Great Wall, or for the money they will receive as compensation in case of her death, or because it is her responsibility as a woman in Huaxia. Zetian takes the job to assassinate the star male pilot who killed her sister. Like her historical counterpart, Wu Zetian is ruthless and focused on gaining power by any means necessary.

The historical Wu Zetian operated in the same way. Through manipulation and murder, Zetian achieved the grand title of China’s first and only female emperor. Through her rule, Wu Zetian implemented many of the country’s beneficial laws and changes, some of which have survived into the modern day. Zhao uses their knowledge of their country’s history to shape their story’s narrative, showing how the fictional Zetian has the same motivations and desires as her historical inspiration, leading to both of characters’ rises to royalty in their respective yet similar worlds. By drawing upon this historical tale close to their heritage, Zhao creates a new way for readers to become interested in Ancient Chinese history while creating an interesting and engaging story that captures and tells a lesser-known historical event in a new light.

The Importance of Reimaginings

Humans are natural storytellers. Throughout history, people have told stories to entertain and instruct, with almost the same meanings drawn from vastly different cultures worldwide. Storytelling is a universal language that can span across genres and inspires writers to reimagine age-old tales into something new for a new generation of people. While some novels directly draw upon well-known stories, as in the case of Miller and Zhao, many are unintentional inspirations or parallels to familiar stories, such as with Gillig. No matter the case, all stories share a common thread, and reimaginings are part of the human condition, as no matter their place in time, stories can be relevant outside of their original setting. Writers can adapt the meanings from these old tales for modern audiences, allowing their original purpose to instruct and delight to exist for new generations of humans, who will also want to share these stories with future generations.

Works Cited

• “Iron Widow (Iron Widow, #1).” Goodreads, Goodreads, www.goodreads.com/book/show/52459864-iron-widow.
• Gillig, Rachel. One Dark Window. Orbit, 2022.
• Miller, Madeline. The Song of Achilles. Ecco Press, 2011.
• “One Dark Window (the Shepherd King, #1).” Goodreads, Goodreads, www.goodreads.com/book/show/58340706-one-dark-window.
• Zhao, Xiran Jay. Iron Widow. Penguin Teen, 2021.

Riley Devine

So here’s our big question: How do I tell my readers about this amazing world I’ve created? There are a few ways to go about it. For the beginner author, it often turns into a massive info dump—every tiny detail about the city of Wherever and the king of Certainly-a-Kingdomia crammed into Chapter One. But trust me, that’s not the way to do it. A better approach? Take a cue from George R. R. Martin. Throw in a name here, a place there—don’t explain it, don’t revisit it—just let it hang in the breeze until you can actually give us the nitty-gritty details at a later point.

The “tell and drop” method is exactly that: introduce a detail and move on without lingering. The key is not to bog down the narrative with long explanations. The best way to do it is to start slinging names and places at your reader wherever they fit—through thoughts, dialogue, or even setting descriptions. At first, these names might seem like throwaway details and might even be forgotten, but as the story unfolds, you’ll realize they are important parts of a much larger world. You might remember Sir Who’s-It-of-Who-Cares a few chapters later, and by then, you already feel familiar with somebody you know nothing about. It makes the world feel real, like a friend mentioning someone you don’t meet until weeks later.

Now, of course, you wonder why it works. First, it keeps the pace of the story moving. Instead of getting stuck in long-winded trauma dumps of exposition, you give your readers just enough to spark curiosity and run off before they can satisfy that spark. It builds intrigue and keeps them engaged, always wondering when or if that name or place will become significant. This doesn’t even touch on how it mirrors real life—most things we encounter don’t come with explanations attached. We accept the details as they come, and they gain meaning over time as you further explore them.

So, how can you use this method in your writing? Just start with casually mentioning places, characters, events, whatever you need really. You don’t need to give the full backstory at the moment, just drop the details and keep going. Maybe a character mentions a neighboring kingdom in passing, or an old legend, or some rival they’ve been beefing with for decades, it’s not particularly limited to any specific topic. These brief moments give the world depth without overwhelming the reader with information they don’t need yet.

By trusting the reader to pick up on these little details, you keep the world-building subtle but effective, and it makes the world feel lived in and real—constantly evolving and expanding. So, instead of explaining every nook and cranny of your world in a potentially boring lecture mid-scene, let the details breathe and emerge naturally across chapters and chapters of fine work.

Jeremy Chang

One of the most engaging aspects of creating and reading a story is defining the great opposition for your hero. Formally known as “Antagonists,” these detestable yet engaging obstacles are a staple element of great storytelling and can often create greater impressions on readers than even the main characters. When people usually think of antagonists, they think of the Big Bad Wolf to the Three Little Pigs, Voldemort to Harry, Sauron to Frodo, or Frollo to Quasimodo. While these are all compelling adversaries in their own right, other types of opposing forces are also out in the literary world, making their mark alongside them. In general, there are four different types of conflict that define an antagonist:

• Man versus man (The examples above. Can also apply to institutions.)
• Man versus nature (Lord of the Flies, Moby Dick)
• Man versus supernatural/fate (A Series of Unfortunate Events, The Shining)
• Man versus self (To Kill a Mockingbird, Adventures of Huckleberry Finn )

Each are distinct literary elements in their own right. However, it’s what they have in common that makes good antagonists so compelling.

It Was Me, Barry (Influencing The Protagonist)

            The first element in making a good antagonist is, ironically, how they affect the protagonist. That’s right, the first step doesn’t have anything to do with how the villain is a sleazy unlikable goofball, a grotesque being of unseen Lovecraftian desolation, or the government, but rather, it’s about how their influence affects the main character. Not to say those aspects should be disregarded, as they bring their own separate value, but that shouldn’t be the first priority when making your story’s “big bad.” Well-developed antagonists influence the main character in some way that is ultimately significant to the story, for better or for worse. It doesn’t matter if they take away their closest companions, shatter their most profound inner morals, or have utter control over their decisions and life’s purpose, just make sure they are highly relevant to the development of the person the story is following. It is important they stand against the protagonists as a true barrier that because people want to see their heroes succeed against significant forces.

Absolute Power! (Imposing the Audience)

The second element in writing an antagonist is to develop a dramatic and imposing figure. An antagonist must have some sort of edge against the protagonist to create tension within a story. Without this, you end up with a book about as entertaining as She-Hulk, or you’re writing a satirical comedy. Disregarding that one exception, it’s critical that the main enemy always has some sort of advantage over the protagonist until the bridge between the climax and falling action. Imagine if Cinderella wasn’t really held back by her stepmother and stepsisters, deciding one day to bump them to the curb, buy luxury goods with their money with little to no struggle, and immediately take the prince unhindered. Sure, it may be “empowering” for some, but the overall plot would be considered boring, unrelatable, and ultimately unrealistic in the eyes of most readers. People struggle in life. The antagonist creates strife and conflict by creating a clear, realistic barrier to victory, evoking despair for readers.

The Hardest Choices Require The Strongest Will (Challenging Convention)

This is the part that everyone is most likely drawn to when choosing their favorite antagonist, as it’s what truly makes these oppositions shine from beyond their role as just obstacles. A great antagonist transcends the pages of a book and brings out the best and worst in a reader’s values and worldview. They’re terrifying because they have the ability to change who a person is. This doesn’t necessarily mean a villain should always have a morally gray compass (although that is a popular and effective method), rather, it means the reader must be able to establish a connection through the nature of the antagonist’s qualities based on their own experiences. It should make them think about themselves, the world they live in, and the people around them that they would otherwise consider the same in most cases. When this happens, an antagonist will become memorable, as they effectively become a part of that person. But that’s not all. Take it a step further and you get an antagonist that will challenge the morals that were established with the protagonist. The mirroring of the protagonist, their goals, and who they are as a character, creates the most compelling stories because it establishes two sides of the same coin, equally as appealing as the other, that force people to choose between them, and not everyone will choose the same.

Conclusion

Captivating antagonists are not an easy thing to create. The Hero against the Villain conflict is a tale as old as time, yet writers from all over still struggle to find that perfect balance between good and evil in the narrative journey. We may never have the perfect antagonist (at least a purely manmade one), but that doesn’t mean we should stop striving to make one. Ultimately, the content shown in this blog are merely guidelines on how to make an effective antagonist. When push comes to shove, a story may not call for such a complex opposing force. Some stories require only a simple representation of a common life struggle to make their mark; because, ultimately, what makes a good antagonist is what they mean to the people who read them.

Tirza Bustrum

The Big Idea

Many professionals in the field of writing have sworn that waking up just an hour before your usual start of the day to write will inspire you in unimaginable ways. As a writer who often suffers from writer’s block under the pressure of being creative under time constraints, I was desperate for any method that would help me come up with an idea.

What is it?

If you are unfamiliar with the concept, Janet Burroway describes this exercise in Writing Fiction as the following: “Begin writing before you are quite awake, before you have read or talked to anyone, before reason has begun to take over from the dream-functioning of your brain.”  The basic idea is that the early writer gets the best ideas. This method encourages writers to wake up an hour or so earlier than usual (ex: If you wake up at 8 AM, set your alarm for 7 AM) and use the gained hour to write. It is recommended that the writer refrain from eating, drinking, or doing any of their daily routines before opening up the computer or picking up a pen and paper. To ensure that the writing is the most raw it can be, untainted by the stresses of life, the writer should write first thing in the morning.

Essentially, it’s a form of daylight savings for creatives. The groggy hour is supposed to be the clearest your mind will be throughout the entire day— and what will come out will either be gibberish or genius. Some are willing to gamble.

My Experience

I began this experiment anticipating a big project, a fiction piece that I had no ideas for. I went to bed with an alarm set for 6:30 AM. For a night owl, such as myself, this is a difficult task. I would not wake up early for anything—other than writing, apparently. I woke up, eyes glued together and stumbled to the table where I had set up my computer and notes the night before. The hour flew by, and by the time my usual alarm rang, I had gotten an idea and five pages of mediocre writing. It was a start.

After five days of this same routine, I had ten more pages written and the afternoons free to do other homework. Most of the time, I tend to want to focus the most on my big writing projects and forget all about all my other homework—so the extra time was much needed. I did most of my editing late at night and realized the draft I had written was not half bad. Even though there were run-on sentences and “people” was spelled “peple,” the outline of my story was present and coherent.

Is the Loss of Sleep Worth It?

Is losing sleep ever worth it? I think back to the times that I woke up early to go to class. I couldn’t stop yawning, and the lecture felt more like a lullaby than a contribution to my academic pursuits. On the other hand, I’ve had to drop someone off at the airport before dawn, and I don’t lament the loss of sleep even as I rub my eyes throughout the rest of the day. So the answer is yes, for the right reasons, it’s worth it.

Does it work?

This leads to the question: As writers, should we heed all the advice that’s sprung on us? Yes and no. Some advice isn’t tailored specifically to our lives— while it may work for some, it could hinder another’s creative process. After hearing countless contradictory tips, it can get confusing. I’ve heard some people say you should never stop writing. Others say let the right time to write come to you. Some say it’s good to take breaks in between projects. Others say this takes the writer out of the routine. Either way, take advice lightly. It’s ironic coming from someone giving you advice, but truly, use what works for you and try something new every once in a while. You might find your perfect method or maybe something that works for one week. All this to say, try waking up an hour early to write your story, novel, poem, or essay. You might be surprised at how your “worst state” of the day, when you’re hungry, tired, and dirty, might be the thing that keeps the imposter syndrome at bay and allows you to write without worrying about how it will turn out.

Works Cited

Burroway, Janet. (2019). Writing Fiction: A Guide to Narrative Craft. https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/W/bo36156857.html

Jack Brown

Writing original characters from scratch can be extremely difficult. Sure, nailing down a character’s basic appearance, personality, and abilities is a start, but finding a place for them in a manuscript’s overarching plot can be especially challenging. Thankfully, Joseph Campbell, author of The Hero with A Thousand Faces (1949), has packaged together some helpful literary devices called “archetypes” that make placing a character in a narrative significantly easier. These archetypes are often associated with a universal storytelling template Campbell dubs the “monomyth” or the “hero’s journey,” but the character patterns may be observed in stories that don’t conform to the narrative cycle (28). While he isn’t the first to notice these patterns, nor is he the one to coin the term he uses for them, his analysis of archetypal characters emphasized their prominence within literature. Using the ready-made characters Campbell describes, one may craft a perfectly viable plot that people will love, but even these patterns have limits. Although the monomyth and its archetypes have been proven to create successful stories, characters can transcend basic storytelling structure and evolve into something more complex.

Using archetypes can be a great way to slot characters into a story, especially if they fall into more traditional roles. Assigning characters an archetype grants them a distinctive narrative role, providing further opportunities to develop them through structure. For example, a lax character with a bad habit of cracking jokes in serious situations and a more simplistic backstory could align with the “Ally” archetype, who lends the hero support throughout their journey. Despite starting with a somewhat typical personality, the character type may fulfill a vital role or have the potential to transform as the narrative progresses. For instance, that same “Ally” character could lose an aspect of themselves, granting them a new perspective that changes their dynamic with the protagonist and adds a layer of nuance to their character arc. This kind of development can be performed on any archetype, from the “Threshold Guardians” acting as obstacles for the hero to the “Shadow,” otherwise known as the antagonist. To this extent, archetypes can be a springboard for writers to experiment with typical storytelling structures.

For instance, J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings trilogy adheres not only to the traditional hero’s journey model, but also employs archetypes to a considerable degree. Each character in the series can be mapped to one or multiple archetypes. Frodo, unsurprisingly, aligns with the hero, as the narrative focuses on his struggles as he journeys throughout Middle Earth. Gollum, or Smeagol, embodies the complex “Shapeshifter” archetype by guiding Frodo and Sam through treacherous areas, but betrays them in attempting to take the One Ring for himself. Every archetype Tolkien employs possesses a function within the narrative, and each character explores a different facet of their respective archetypes. For example, Aragorn begins as a mysterious and competent ally, but gradually reveals his ability to fulfill the role of secondary hero throughout the books. Though he is assigned one archetype, his transformation demonstrates the potential for a character like him to become something more. To this extent, Tolkien’s works exemplify how writers can utilize archetypes to their full effect.

Despite the options archetypes provide and the depths to which writers may explore them, they may restrict storytellers who rely on them through stark categorization. Though some archetypes, such as the “Shapeshifter” or the “Trickster,” offer the flexibility for a character’s alignment to fluctuate, most remain relatively static. Even if primary antagonists are created to be sympathetic, their archetypal designation restrains their capacity for change. If the hero’s opponent always conforms to the “Shadow” archetype—a manifestation of the hero’s flaws—the character can only grow so much (Gibson). In this regard, adhering only to archetypal roles limits creativity, reducing characters to cardboard cutouts. Many stories make the mistake of forsaking personality and depth in favor of easy character creation, especially with young adult protagonists. If a writer prioritizes following established patterns over creating idiosyncratic characters, archetypes become less of a building block for narrative development and more of a constraint. In essence, deviation from what is expected sparks innovation.

As such, it’s important to remember that the archetypes are not strict rules writers must follow. While they’re not entirely arbitrary and can help writers find their characters’ places in the story, they can be altered to suit the unique situations they encounter. Understanding the various archetypes and their pivotal roles in constructing compelling narratives is crucial to the writing journey, but applying the concepts requires a bit of ingenuity. Combining archetypes into one character, experimenting with subversions, and allowing the roles to expand throughout the writing process are great ways to build off the known patterns. A story that uses clear-cut, easy-to-discern archetypes can be perfectly viable, but expanding characters beyond their baseline functions will make a narrative truly stand out. Ultimately, the decision to utilize archetypes to build characters and the degree to which they conform relies on personal preference, but writers should be mindful of the benefits and restrictions conventional storytelling roles entail.

Works Cited

Campbell, Joseph. The Hero with a Thousand Faces. 1949. New World Library, 2008.

Gibson, Michael. “A Horde of Heroes: The Eight Character Archetypes and How to Use Them.” Presto Page, 11 Oct. 2023, https://prestopage.com/a-horde-of-heroes-the-eight-character-archetypes-and-how-to-use-them/