Fiction Writing Quotes

Every book contains a secret – even the writer doesn't always know what it is.

Carla H. Krueger

Now the second common characteristic of fiction follows from this, and it is that fiction is presented in such a way that the reader has the sense that it is unfolding around him. This doesn't mean he has to identify himself with the character or feel compassion for the character or anything like that. It just means that fiction has to be largely presented rather than reported. Another way to say it is that though fiction is a narrative art, it relies heavily on the element of drama.

Flannery O'Connor

The viewpoint character in each story is usually someone trapped in a living nightmare, but this doesn't guarantee that we and the protagonist are at one. In fact Woolrich often makes us pull away from the person at the center of the storm, splitting our reaction in two, stripping his protagonist of moral authority, denying us the luxury of unequivocal identification, drawing characters so psychologically warped and sometimes so despicable that a part of us wants to see them suffer. Woolrich also denies us the luxury of total disidentification with all sorts of sociopaths, especially those who wear badges. His Noir Cop tales are crammed with acts of police sadism, casually committed or at least endorsed by the detective protagonist. These monstrosities are explicitly condemned almost never and the moral outrage we feel has no internal support in the stories except the objective horror of what is shown, so that one might almost believe that a part of Woolrich wants us to enjoy the spectacles. If so, it's yet another instance of how his most powerful novels and stories are divided against themselves so as to evoke in us a divided response that mirrors his own self-division.("Introduction")

Francis M. Nevins Jr.

I love my career. It is a career. A difficult one that takes many hours and total dedication to my craft. It is also what I was born to do--tell stories and entertain.

Michelle M. Pillow

Grayson: Fiction is just a lie anyway.Brianna: But it's not - it's a different kind of truth - it would be your truth at the time of the writing, wouldn't it?

Movie. What's my favorite kind of movie?”“Is there a point to this?”“Please, Lucy. What's my favorite movie?”“Horror. Why?”“No reason,” I sighed as I slouched back in the chair.“And would you stop that! Please? It's distracting,” she said as sheslammed her hand down on top of mine to stop me from twirling my ring.I jerked my hand out from under hers so I could cross my arms over mychest.“What's with you today?” Her tone was saturated with distaste.“Nothing.”“Well, you're being awfully annoying for nothing to be wrong,” sheretorted. “Go ahead, Josh. I'm listening now.”I could feel the cold emanating from her and flowing in my direction. Ithad been this way for a while I just didn't want to see it.Danny and Josh looked at me and then awkwardly focused on otherthings.

Well, I would tell Danny. I'd probably edit for Josh. That is if there wasanything worth editing.“Joshua Roberts, you had better get your butt on the move!” Dannyhollered as he walked down the stairs.I was nervously waiting for them to leave as I pretended to watch TV inthe front room.“We're going to be late.”“So the hair crisis is under control I see.”“A stray hair will never win between a bottle of gel and a gay man,” hedeclared with a smile. “Joshua!”“I'm coming. I'm coming.”I heard his sandals click on the stairs and I waited to see if the mentalimage matched the real one. To my non surprise it did.

The last image I registered was Ethan and my hand – linked, bound and unbreakable.

Erica Sehyun Song

That's what we storytellers do. We restore order with imagination. We instill hope again and again and again.

Kelly Marcel & Sue Smith

Fueled by my inspiration, I ran across the room to steal the cup of coffee the bookshelf had taken prisoner. Lapping the black watery brew like a hyena, I tossed the empty cup aside. I then returned to the chair to continue my divine act of creation. Hot blood swished in my head as my mighty pen stole across the page.