We all remember a cinematic moment from our favorite movie, recounting it scene by scene for our friends around the lunch table in high school, but when does anyone talk about their favorite cinematic moment from a book? Hardly ever it seems. Much of this is due to movies being a more prolific medium for having these shareable moments, though as a writer you can also do more to make your engaging story moments stand out even more.

Every aspect of cinematic moments is found in the setup and the presentation. In Marvel’s Iron Man, for example, Tony Stark’s missile unveiling scene in the first five minutes of the film is memorable in its scope and scale. It tells an aspect of the story that could have been done more subtly, but chooses to present it in a dramatically bombastic fashion. This is what good writers can build into their writing through drama, purpose, and most importantly, presentation.

Dramatic tension

Tension is brought about through conflict, either during or between it. Nothing will have your audience remembering the scene more than having a build-up to conflict. Often it is not the fight scenes in movies and novels we store in our minds, but what precedes them. In Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, the uneasy and grueling minutes before the last stand at Helm’s Deep is what gives us the excitement for the battle to come. Without Aragorn’s leadership to rally them in those moments, the battle thereafter would be less impactful to the reader. Knowing the stakes of your current conflict, be it major or minor, can help you determine what kind of tension to use for a scene and how much.

Moments with purpose

Having a direction for a cinematic moment in your story can ratchet up the momentum of the plot that your audience has invested in. Every cinematic moment in film tends to have a start and end that emphasizes a point in the narrative. Books can use this technique too, even more so than films in certain aspects as the extra space for exposition can really mold a plot point to the writer’s whim. Using Lord of the Rings as a further example, when Frodo decides to keep the ring instead of throwing it into the fires of Mount Doom from whence it came, it displays a narrative turn for the reader that provides us with an unexpected question. Before, the question was always “will the hero succeed in his quest?”, but now a new question with greater purpose has undermined the first very dramatically; “will our hero actually choose to do the deed and complete the quest at all?”. Changing or further emphasizing the direction of a narrative is part of what creates cinematic moments that feel weighted and meaningful.

Presentation!

It’s one thing to write a cinematic scene, it’s another thing to make it memorable. Knowing how to present your scenes so they match the weight of your narrative is crucial to having your readers, your audience, remember how impactful that moment is for the story. As an example, for a graphic novel series like Brian Lee O’malley’s Scott Pilgrim versus the World, this is done through a lot of tonal setting and organic dialogue. The pages where Scott talks to his sister about his struggles with his love interest and what it means to learn from his mistakes demonstrates great presentation, as the lonely park swing set in the middle of a cold winter evening underscores an already somber conversation. The weight of the narrative is displayed to the reader in a way that emphasizes its importance without being overly heavy-handed or too subtle. Presentation is that stylized layer that makes your cinematic moments truly picturesque.

One last thing…

Before you undertake a cinematic moment of your very own in your writing, be it on a page or a screen, remember that an organic and unique scene will most often pack more of a punch than a recycled story beat. Although they are sometimes needed and writers shouldn’t feel ashamed for using them, coming up with something that you think really gets to the heart of the story you want to tell should be your first priority. At the end of the day, as long as it gives you and your readers that connection you are looking for, you’ve got a great cinematic moment in the making on your hands.

No matter when we’ve begun in our writing careers, we are bound to leave unfulfilled and unfinished works in our wake. Some of them we’ve discarded so long ago that they are nearly forgotten, unless they’ve been unearthed from an old notebook in your childhood bedroom or deep in the files on your computer. Either way, there they are, and now you have the urge to do something with them.

Before making any decisions about what to do with your previous work, read through each one. What parts did you enjoy? Which ones make you cringe? Is there anything that’s hard to understand? Take notes while reading, but don’t change anything yet. If you’re up for it, share with friends or fellow writers and see what they think. From there, you can do some of these four things:

Pick Up Where You Left Off

If you have an incomplete piece, what stopped you from writing it? Disinterest, difficulty writing, and distractions are all valid reasons to leave a story behind, but they can also be resolved.

• Start at a new point of the story, even if it’s just rewriting the whole thing from the beginning.
• Take note of where you grew disinterested. How can you make the story more refreshing?
• Free write or build plot and character design outside of the piece itself.
• Write down how you want the story to end and what it’ll take to get there. Then fill in the gaps of your story.

Destroy the Evidence

Maybe the story came from your middle school vampire obsession phase. Maybe you don’t want to be reminded about the time you wrote a poem about that cute stranger on the bus you were too afraid to talk to. Understandable. You can just move these works to the trash icon on your computer, or throw them in the recycling. Or have a little bit of fun.

• If it’s not already a hard copy, print it out. Make it into a hat. You are the captain now.
• Post it somewhere anonymously, like txt.fyi, before deleting it from your computer.
• Burn it, bury it, or turn it into a message in a bottle. Where you leave it last is up to you.
• Open up the word document and backspace the entire piece until you’re left with an empty page. Then start fresh.
• Cut up the pages into pieces. Use the scraps as confetti or make your own paper.

Reuse and Recycle

Ideas and prose don’t have to be lost in a piece that will never see the light of day. Even if it doesn’t work, you’re closer to a solution than you were before. 

• Try an old idea in a new format. Would this fiction piece read better as a play? Can your prose be broken up into poetry?
• Use a notebook or file to keep all your bits and pieces of old writing in. Add to and draw from it when the timing is right.
• Mix and match your works. Try swapping characters and plots of stories, or play around with genres.
• Sort them—chronologically, alphabetically, by genre, or least favorite to favorite. Any exercise that can bring your old works to the front of your mind again will do.

Move Forward

It’s okay not to do anything with your old works. You can ignore every piece of advice this article gives you and start fresh without having second thoughts about your previous works. Just know that there is strength in learning from the past, and it’s nice to reflect on where you’ve started and how you’ve grown as a writer. 

I think of myself as a poet and a writer. Well, that’s what I thought pre-pandemic.

In March, when the world reeled back and sank to its knees, I couldn’t find that part of myself among the scattered pieces that had been my life. Suddenly, I couldn’t engage with creative writing. Not my own, and not anyone else’s. Words faded, and the comfort they had given me became dread. Doomscrolling through Facebook took precedent, other reading became unbearable. 

Eventually I forced myself to write in freshly empty word documents, but it wasn’t satisfying. Nothing I wrote was worthy of any molding. I often ended up deleting everything. Why couldn’t I just sit down and write even one piece? I felt the phantom of ability skirting every attempt of recapture.

I questioned if I was meant to write. During my struggle, I watched people brag on Facebook about their brand-new pandemic manuscripts, all of them so thankful to finally have the time to give life to their words. I became envious and angry. 

Finding poetry, it was like my voice was given purpose. Now, in speechlessness, I was bereft of that purpose. I became unmade, unsure of who I was, this new loss of a core element of character enough to cause distress; in just months I would be in school. How could I continue with my cw major? Could I still be a writer if I didn’t write?

Someone suggested journaling. At first, I discounted it. I had journaled before, but it hadn’t done anything for me. I would dive into it for a few days then leave the sullied notebook abandoned, with only the four journal entries to keep it company. Forcing myself to sit down and write about my “feelings” seemed disingenuous and pedestrian. But I hadn’t tried to keep a *writer’s journal* before. I thought critically about what that was, what it could be.

I decided that a writer’s journal’s definition was my own to create. There were no rules to follow except my own. I think Anita Trimbur’s “3 Things A Writer’s Journal Isn’t” sums it up perfectly; we can do whatever we want.

I decided to buy a fresh notebook and try journaling like a writer.

I asked myself what I wanted this journal to do. I needed a grounded idea that I could turn back to. On July 20th, on the second page, (It’s bad luck to write on the first page) I wrote:

“It is my hope that I can utilize this journal by filling it with scratch thoughts free from the ridged inflexibility of my computer. I’d really like to write more. So maybe a few days a week I’ll crack this baby open and write about whatever. Hopefully, those writings will lead to more writings.”

Over the past few months I wrote in my journal more than 30 times. 

Some of those entries are a few sentences long, others more than three pages. What makes my writer’s journal different from a regular journal is the distinct “writer’s lens” I use. Of course, I made up this lens, but it helps anchor me. 

I only write about things that are relevant to my writing. I found out that’s anything I want to write about.

I’ve been told many times that as a writer, you need to fall in love with the process, and not the final draft, but until my writing journal, I never felt that way. I realized, by writing through my fears and insecurities about my sudden inability to produce what I considered to be “creative writing”, that I hadn’t had my priorities in order. 

When the pandemic hit full force, the bleeding edges of this harmful mentality became exposed. I don’t owe anyone, not even myself, “finished” work. Whatever I write, be it a deep psychological exploration of my developing imposter syndrome, or Taylor Swift lyrics, is valid. 

I have drafted more than one piece of work from notes and scribbles, but the key difference between how I used to focus on my writing verses how I currently do, is that I finally understand that even the things that don’t “go anywhere” are still beneficial, simply for the time, expression, and creativity involved in the process. 

If I had never started my writing journal or learned from it, I would be a different writer today. If you also use a writer’s journal, I’d love to hear what it’s taught you!

Look, we all knew the end would come for us eventually, and with the way 2020 was going for us, the end might be coming sooner rather than later. Us monkeys just can’t go around banging sticks together for thousands of years without there being some kind of repercussion for our actions. Whether it be the fire tornados currently ravaging California, the global health pandemic keeping us locked inside, or just the failure of our own democracy to address the issues of the nation, it’s pretty clear that humanity (or at least the U.S.) doesn’t have much time left in this world. So what can we do as writers to help avert this coming disaster?

Hell if I know.

But if you’ve come looking for some ways to make your writing stick out in the coming apocalypse, I may have a few tips for you…

TIP #1: KNOW YOUR AUDIENCE’S NEEDS AND TIME CONSTRAINTS

Remember looking up baking recipes for peanut butter cookies and suddenly stumbling across an old woman’s life story? Yeah, you shouldn’t do that. It’s the apocalypse. People don’t have time to read a full, fleshed-out story of you berating your life choices, even if that story is super interesting and contains valuable life lessons that you personally would have wished to learn sooner. Not only is such information totally unneeded, it wastes precious time for your potential readers, who may or may not be currently being chased by mutated, ravenous dogs. If they don’t have time to survive, they certainly won’t have time to read your writing.

But what a potential survivor will make time for is pertinent information needed for their general survival. Things like the nearest source of clean water, the nearest shelter, or how to secretly go around the nearest bandit camp would be some of the things that your readers would actively make time for, since it will help them in the long run. Stick to topics that help with survival, and you’re sure to have plenty of readers flocking to you with whatever form of currency we’ll be using in the end times.

TIP #2: FIND OTHER WAYS TO JOURNAL

Needless to say, paper and ink will most likely become a luxury in an apocalyptic setting. Even basic supplies like toilet paper will be fought over religiously, so the chances of you keeping a pen and paper on you for journaling purposes will be rather slim. So what should you do if you run out of paper?

My advice? Learn from the ancient Mesopotamian’s and start using clay tablets, if you can. They’re durable, easily erasable, and can be fire blasted to keep your writing permanently etched in clay. Keep them safe, and your writing will last longer than if you had just written it down on paper. But if clay is a bit hard to come by, you can always make yourself some charcoal pencils using a can and some wood. By peeling the bark off a young stick and putting that in a near-airtight container, you can make yourself some pencils that can write on nearly any surface, and can easily be rubbed off. Your words may not last as long as those written in clay, but if you preserve them right, your work could easily last 28.000 years, meaning some lucky historian will be able to eventually find your fanfics and put them on display for the world to see.

Speaking of historians…

TIP #3: HISTORY WILL HAVE THE LAST SAY, SO DO IT ANYWAY

It’s the apocalypse. There are no rules anymore. So who’s going to stop you from taking that one story you have that no one would seem to publish and passing it off as a huge work of art? Break into the Louvre and scatter your poetry amongst the displays. Write a horror story and claim to be Stephen King. Scrawl your name on the forehead of the Statue of Liberty, then raid the gift shop. Who’s going to stop you? Right now, it’s all about making your mark on history in any way that you can. With society collapsing, our best bet is to pull an Emily Dickinson and be little known in our own time, but be remembered for all eternity after our deaths. The best way for us to do that is to display our work among other great artists, and hope that historians find our writings some day and mistake us for an important person of literary merit.  Just keep making content, and eventually at some point in time you will become famous. Even if that fame is founded upon the dumbass shenanigans you managed to get yourself into while the world was burning down.

That about wraps it up for what I have got to say. Hopefully you’ll look back some day and remember my advice while you desperately scrounge around for the last can of beans in an abandoned supermarket, desperately trying to eek out an existence as the world continues to spiral out of control.

Did anything that you have just read help out in any meaningful way? If not, you can always add to the discussion by leaving a comment down below. If you have anything else you’d like to add, please send me a smoke signal via the Minneapolis skyline. I promise I’ll signal you back in 3 – 6 business days, apocalypse notwithstanding.

2020, to put it lightly, was an awful year for most people. Our ways of living have been radically changed. COVID has been a constant worry and the presidential election caused stress for many. Although much in the immediate future is uncertain, we all must find different ways of coping. I usually read as a way of an escape. The feeling of escapism is something many of us are seeking again at the start of 2021. I found the following literature especially compelling because of how they relate to our contemporary moment. These make for great stories and insightful readings. If anyone is looking for a good read during these first few months of the new year, I highly recommend these works. 

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

A post-apocalyptic story of a father and son traveling through a ruined America. The story imagines a future where all hope has been lost. It depicts the worst and best traits of mankind. With growing fears of where this country will go in the years after the 2020 election, along with COVID-19 being a consistent threat, the feelings of hopelessness in this novel can relate to our contemporary moment. Admittedly, that is terrifying. However, that makes this even more compelling. I can see pieces of the real world in this novel and it is so interesting. I would highly recommend this novel to anyone who is a fan of post-apocalyptic stories. Warning: The novel does contain dark graphic descriptions and sensitive topics such as suicide. 

The Malevolent Volume by Justin Phillip Reed

This collection of poems by the award-winning writer depict a dark, gothic reality of the exploitation of marginalized people in the U.S. Many poems in this collection touch on topics such as white supremacy and being a queer person of color. With political policies and societal resentment set to clash for years after the 2020 election, it is important and intriguing to look through the eyes of someone who has already felt this oppression. I find Reed’s use of dark imagery and childhood references immersive. He depicts his disgust towards the historical/current treatment of people of color. This historical disgust can be felt by followers and supporters of the Black Lives Matter movement, especially after the recent murders of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor. I highly recommend this collection to readers and poets who support the movement, and to anyone who is interested in the subject matter. 

The Nickel Boys by Colson Whitehead

This Pulitzer Prize-winning fictional story follows the journey of Elwood Curtis, a Black teenager growing up in Tallahassee in the 1960s. The story follows Curtis being sent to Nickel Academy, a fictional juvenile reformatory based on the controversial real-life Dozier School which operated in the state of Florida for 111 years. Curtis and other characters in the story face horrors that parallel the true atrocities that children who attended Dozier endured. The details and images depicted in this novel filled me with much discomfort, especially when you consider the fact that similar atrocities are happening still to this day. While human trafficking has become a larger issue in society, it is scary how the abuse and torture of Curtis and the other characters in Whitehead’s novel are a reminder of this problem. Although it is not outright kidnapping and trafficking per say, the story of the Nickel Boys taken away from their homes to a reform school where they are subjected to racially-motivated abuse and torture with the potential for being murdered, is a horrible parallel of the reality we live in.  The elements of horror in this novel are extremely compelling. The building of tension and the development of Curtis’s character throughout the story were also well done. 

I recommend these three titles, not just because I find their stories compelling (and they are!), but also because these stories remind us of the moment we live in. Even though some are based on events of both the past and possible futures, the themes of abuse, neglect, discrimination, and loss of hope are all too familiar still today. The more we read, the more realize that these topics in our society are not fiction. I hope that readers can see the similarities between these literary works and our realities like I have. I feel that these three books, and others like them, could bring more awareness to any of these issues and inspire us to address them. Instead of giving up hope, let’s look to a better future in 2021 and beyond. As Terry Pratchett said, “There’s always a story. It’s all stories, really. The sun coming up every day is a story. Everything’s got a story in it. Change the story, change the world.”