Taking risks is unto a purpose. Think of a single raindrop, splashing into the quietly calm surface of a lake. The event is isolated, and you may be inclined to imagine the ripples, but then you await for the water to be calm again.
Now think of a downpour splashing onto a lake. There are very few ripples, but the effect is just as magnificent as the sole rain drop. But in this case, you may not be waiting for the water to be stilled.
Let’s use these two examples to understand risk taking. Maybe your character does something out of the ordinary but it’s momentary.
Risk taking is what defines good writing. It’s the unexpected that makes the reader’s bottom lip tremble in anticipant trepidation, waiting for your story to unfold. These risks are tough, because we want to maintain a story that’s consistent, and taking those risks teeters on the edge of being unbelievable.
Continuing from yesterday, let’s define something a little more clearly. Even though we are jumping off a bridge, make sure that there is water underneath. We aren’t plummeting to our literary deaths; we simply want to make the thrill ride is exhilarating. Continue reading →