At one time or another, every writer searches her heart and mind for a great story idea and comes up short. The muse is silent. The motivation is gone. The driving force that compels her to write just isn't there.

At this point, the writer has two options. One: wallow in self-pity, bemoan the situation and dwell on the lack of creative flow in the hopes that some interesting tidbit of an idea might magically present itself. Or two: take action and find something to get those creative juices flowing again.

While it often seems like the best ideas just appear in the mind — usually popping in at the most inconvenient and untimely moments — those ideas don't manifest themselves out of nothing at all. They come from somewhere, from a place deep within, where all the input your senses have ever received meets in a tangled jungle of sights and sounds and smells, textures and thoughts and emotion. That somewhere, that jungle, is what you as a writer need to learn to tap into at will.

That's where the Idea Generator comes in.

Not a machine but a technique, or combination of techniques, designed to propel you into creative mode.

This entry will deal with the first of those techniques, a simple method that forces your mind to look beyond what your eyes see, to probe your inner jungle to find the deeper story in everything around you. After practicing this technique, you'll find it difficult to look at any object and not see the potential for story.

How it works:

Grab a notebook and a pen and sit in the center of a room. Any room, the bedroom, the living room, it doesn't even have to be your room. A public place will do just as well.

Look around. A writer's greatest asset is the power of observation, and object targeting is a terrific way to hone that ability to a fine point.

Instead of focusing on the room itself, concentrate on what's in the room. What objects do you see? You may see furniture, you may see pictures on the walls, you may see knick-knacks on the shelves. If you're in your own room, each of these items may have special meaning to you. You may know Great Aunt Helen gave you the ceramic dog that sits by the door or that the silver candlesticks on the mantle were a wedding gift and the painting on the wall was a terrific bargain at the local flea market for five dollars, but for now, forget everything you know.

Focus on the objects in the room as if you've never seen them before. Let yourself be drawn to one object in particular. It might be a feature of the room, such as a fireplace, or something as simple as a book or figurine. You may be attracted to it because of its color or shape or simply because it's unique.

Once you've decided on an object, write a brief description of it in your notebook. This should be your initial impression of the object. Remember to look at it as if you are seeing it for the first time.

As an example, I'll write about that ceramic dog. (No, I don't really own a ceramic dog, but for the sake of this exercise I'll pretend I do.)

"Ceramic dalmatian, glass eyes, approximately 12 inches high, somewhat tacky."

Now study the object more intently. If possible, pick it up. Turn it over in your hands. Set it in front of you and walk around it. If your object is a feature of the room, approach and study it from several vantage points.

Make notes about any features that strike you.

My notes:

"Dalmation is hollow, ceramic, has a small chip in the front right paw, a plastic stopper underneath which covers a circular hole cut into the base of the figurine. Glass eyes seem to follow you around the room. Kind of creepy."

Now sit back and imagine the life of your object. How did it come to exist? Where has it been? Who had contact with it prior to it coming into your possession? Who might want or own an object like this? What role can this object play in a story?

These questions alone can provide a wealth of story ideas. How many novels or films can you name that feature an object as the driving force of the story? The Lord of the Rings, The Red Violin, Raiders of the Lost Ark, and countless other stories have been made with an object as the central focus. Characters need something to strive for, a goal, and often that goal is to obtain a specific tangible object rather than a certain emotional state.

Back to the ceramic dalmatian:

I ask myself, what role can this object play in a story? How can I create a story from nothing but a ceramic dog?

Well, let's see…

For starters, my dalmatian needs a home. We'll put him in the home of a rather wealthy couple. (Hey, even the rich don't always have great taste.)

Now that he has a home, how do I make him the central focus of my story?

Maybe he's valuable, an antique, or an exotic import that once belonged to someone famous. In fact, he's so valuable he draws the attention of a thief. Or maybe the dog itself isn't valuable, but, being hollow, he contains something that is…

It might not be great but it's a start, and all stories have to start somewhere. The goal of this technique is to get those creative juices flowing.

Maybe the map to a buried treasure is hidden in the fireplace behind the third brick from the left (an action-adventure). Maybe one of those silver candlesticks was once used as a murder weapon (a mystery/thriller) and maybe it still possesses the spirit of the victim (a horror).

Everything has a story to tell, if you're willing to listen.

In working on my novel, I’ve discovered one of the less talked-about differences between screenwriting and novel writing: point of view.

I never realized what a luxury it was to be able to write without having to worry about which character’s point of view should be used for a particular scene. In screenwriting, the point of view belongs to the audience. Even if the main character is present in every scene, the story still unfolds from the audience’s point of view as they watch that character in action. In a movie, all the characters could be on-screen together in a single scene, but the screenwriter doesn't have to consider which of those characters' points of view should be used in the script.

With a novel, the reader is your audience, but the story is told from one or more points of view. If several characters are present in a single scene, the author needs to decide which of those characters should be the POV character, and the author needs to determine whether that character should be granted the POV for that scene alone, for several scenes or chapters, or even for the entire novel. Screenwriters never have to wonder if a scene should be written from the hero’s point of view or the villain’s. Novelists do. (Of course, screenwriters have plenty of challenges of their own to deal with, but that's a post for another day.)

Deciding which point-of-view style to use is tougher than it sounds. Each narrative form has its own benefits and drawbacks. But before I get to that, let’s quickly go over the most common POV styles.

First-person POV – The story is told from the inner perspective of a single character. (as in, “I slammed the door.”)

Second-person POV – The story is portrayed from the reader’s point of view. (as in, “You slammed the door.”) This format isn’t common, except in choose your own adventure novels.

Third person limited POV – The story is portrayed from one character’s perspective, but viewed from outside the character, as opposed to the inner narrative used in first-person POV. (as in, “He slammed the door.”) Some authors write the entire novel from only one character’s point of view. Other authors rotate between several different characters, but only when shifting to a new chapter or a new scene. Only one character’s point of view is used per scene.

Third person omniscient POV – The story is portrayed from the point of view of an omniscient narrator who has knowledge of all characters and their thoughts and actions at any time and place.

I’m going to weigh the pros and cons of first-person POV and third-person limited POV. I’m not going to cover second-person POV because it’s usually not practical to use that form in a mainstream novel. I’m not going to cover third-person omniscient POV because I loathe it. It inevitably results in “head hopping”, where the perspective shifts from one character’s to another’s in mid-scene, sometimes even in mid-paragraph. I don’t enjoy reading novels written in that form, so I’m not going to write my own novels in that form.

The Pros and Cons of First-Person POV

One of the biggest benefits of first-person POV is the opportunity to fully embody a single character, to give the audience a glimpse at the character’s innermost thoughts and feelings, even when those thoughts and feelings are hidden from other characters. It also allows you to develop the character’s personality not just through his actions but also through his voice, his storytelling style.

At the same time, first-person POV suffers from a few drawbacks. If readers don’t love your character’s voice and storytelling style, they might be turned off. They might not empathize with your character as much as they would have if they’d been offered the distance that comes with third-person limited POV instead.

Readers might not get to know your other characters as well because the story is told from only one character’s point of view. Each character will be perceived through the lens of the POV character, with the POV character’s personal opinions affecting how those other characters appear to the reader.

If you’re writing a mystery or suspense novel, your main character won’t know the details your villain knows, meaning you’ll have to structure the story so those details unfold as the main character discovers them. This can be tricky in a suspense novel. Often, the source of the suspense comes from the reader knowing a specific something awful is going to happen if the hero doesn’t somehow manage to save the day. If the hero isn’t yet aware of the something awful that’s going to occur at some point in the near future, the audience also isn’t aware of it and that source of suspense is removed. But, many authors are easily able to develop suspense through other means. Several of Lee Child’s Jack Reacher novels are written in first-person POV and they’re filled with suspense. Barry Eisler's John Rain novels use first-person POV and they're also full of suspense.

The first-person POV is limiting but also liberating. You are restricted to only one character’s perspective, but you can explore that character’s perspective more fully and in much more depth.

The Pros and Cons of Third-Person Limited POV

Third-person limited POV offers its own benefits. It works well in suspense novels because you can write one chapter from the hero’s point of view and the next chapter from the villain’s point of view, giving readers a peek at what the villain is planning. If you have several characters working toward the same goal but those characters are in different locations, you can write one chapter from one character’s point of view and write the next chapter from a different character’s point of view, and then return to the first character’s point of view in the third chapter. As long as you use only one character’s point of view per scene, and as long as you make it clear right away which character has the point of view for a scene or chapter, readers will have no trouble keeping up with the shifts in POV.

Third-person limited POV offers you the opportunity to develop more than one character’s personality to a greater extent. You might even have more than one main character. Many novels feature two or more heroes, all of whom fit the role of “main character”. Another benefit of multiple points of view is if readers don’t like the character whose POV appears in one chapter, they won’t have to worry for long because a different character’s POV comes along shortly after.

The tough part of using third-person limited POV is making sure your main character (or characters) get the right amount of face-time. You don’t want to end up with a novel where the villain’s chapters comprise 70% of the book and the hero’s chapters comprise only 30%. (And if you end up with a novel like that, you might want to reconsider whose story you’re telling and whether the story might be better served with the villain in the main role.)

If you’re writing in third-person limited POV, you might also choose to stick with only one character’s perspective. This is similar to writing in first-person POV because you can develop that character’s personality more than those of other characters. You are still inside that character’s head, but the third-person POV gives a bit more distance than first-person POV. This is simultaneously a benefit and a drawback. You don’t get to write in the main character’s voice, but sometimes that extra distance is a bonus because readers are more easily able to step into the character’s shoes and take on his/her role in the story. With that tiny bit of distance, they can more easily envision themselves as that character.

As you can see, there are clear pros and cons to each POV style. For each project, you’ll need to consider those pros and cons and decide which style best suits your story. I’m using third-person limited POV for my novel-in-progress but I’m experimenting with first-person POV for a different project, and I've found both styles equally challenging and rewarding.

There is a lot of debate in Authorland about outlining. Some writers prefer to outline a plot before tackling the process of writing a novel. Other writers prefer “pantsing” — writing by the seat of the pants, with no map to point the way.

Is one method better than the other? Does one alternative lead to better results? Those are the questions I’ve been pondering lately as I write my novel, and this is what I’ve discovered:

The answer depends on who you ask.

Lee Child, bestselling author of thirteen novels in the Jack Reacher series, never uses an outline. At Thrillerfest 2008, he described his writing process as beginning the story with a question, and then asking another question, and another, and so forth, keeping the reader in suspense and carrying the story forward until those questions are resolved.

John Grisham takes the opposite approach. He writes lengthy outlines — sometimes fifty pages or more — to map out the major plot points. Jeffery Deaver also creates a detailed outline before writing a novel. He describes his process in this video. Deaver has been known to spend up to eight months researching and crafting an outline to map out each plot twist and red herring.

In her How to Think Sideways online course for writers, Holly Lisle explains her process of writing a loose outline using a separate index card for each scene, making it easy to shuffle scenes around as needed. (The course is definitely worth checking out if you’re looking for ways to jumpstart your writing.)

Some writers don’t outline on paper but instead map out the story in their mind ahead of time. They know how their story begins and how it ends, and they have a few important events and plot milestones planned before they write a book.

My approach to outlining falls somewhere in between all the methods described above. I create an outline with a couple of sentences for each scene that occurs in the first two-thirds of the novel. By the time I’ve mapped out the major plot points and details for those scenes and laid the necessary groundwork for any plot twists, the rest of the scenes fall into place and an outline isn’t really necessary for the last third of the book. Everything in the story flows together naturally.

I don’t use any fancy software to create an outline. I simply open up a blank Word document and start adding notes about each scene. I include notes about characters, description, dialogue, or anything else that comes to mind. I write in a shorthand that makes sense to me, abbreviating character names and listing any scene elements I don’t want to forget. At first, the outline might look something like this:

1. T.G. at the crime scene where the first body is discovered. / blood / candles / symbols / photos / media.

2. R.V. learns of the murder, sees T.G. for the first time. / blackout / missing memory /white light.

3. T.G. visits the church to show the photos to Father M. / “Where is everyone?” / Feels like he’s being followed.

etc. etc.

The further I get into the outline, the more details and pieces of the plot come to mind for earlier scenes, so I go back and add those extra details in the appropriate place. Snippets of dialogue and bits of description also pop into my mind during the outlining stage. I write them in the outline, but sometimes I find myself in a writing groove and end up writing the entire scene right then and there. When that happens, I just copy that text and paste it into the corresponding chapter in the manuscript, so at the same time I’m creating the outline, I’m also writing parts of the book. It’s an organic process.

As I write my current novel-in-progress, I always keep one thing in mind: the outline is not set in stone. New ideas hit me all the time. If I like an idea, I find a way to weave it into the story, even if it means abandoning something in the outline.

When it comes to outlining or pantsing, the important thing is to do whatever works for you. One method isn’t better than the other. Each approach has its benefits and drawbacks, and what works for one writer might not work as well for another. Experiment with the methods that appeal to you and find out which approach best suits your personal writing style.

Whether you are new to writing or have been around the block a few times, you've probably heard the writers' mantra: "Show, don't tell." Unfortunately, most how-to books don't do a very good job of explaining exactly how to go about showing rather than telling.

Holly Lisle recently created a terrific little video demonstrating the "show, don't tell" maxim in action. She walks viewers through the process using before-and-after examples to improve a sample piece of writing. If you enjoy this video, check out her Writer Crash Test site for more videos about writing.

Every writer has her own style and approaches writing differently. Some write in an office while others write at the corner coffee shop. Some have time to write non-stop for hours each day, while others can squeeze in only an hour here and there. Some have a strict routine while others take up their pen on a whim.

No matter what your style, applying discipline to your writing habits can go a long way toward improving your writing. While some might say following a routine squelches creativity and prevents the writer from fully succumbing to the muse, the evidence says otherwise. The top writers in the world — best-selling authors and screenwriters alike — consistently mention the routines they adhere to in order to get their words down on paper.

Getting the words on paper is what makes the difference between just saying you're a writer and actually being a successful writer.

The key to adopting a disciplined approach to writing is to start small. Sure, everyone wants to turn out twenty perfect pages per day, but it isn't likely to happen that way at first. Setting your goal that high will only lead to disappointment. A little discipline goes a long way, and it's much more motivating to work up to producing more words each day as time progresses than it is to find you're unable to meet your initial goal.

Start by giving yourself a requirement of only one page per day. Resolve to write at least three days per week. Make it not just a goal but a requirement. Stephen King forced himself to maintain a strict daily page count, and look where he is today.

Why discipline yourself by adhering to daily page counts or word counts instead of simply giving yourself the requirement to write for a certain length of time per day? One hour per day? Two hours? Because you'd be amazed at how much time you can kill while staring at a blank page. Make it a goal to write for one hour per day and you'll find out just how quickly an hour can pass without a single keystroke, but make it your goal to write one page per day and you'll find you have the urge to put something down on paper to fill that page.

Once you've decided on your minimum word or page count, you'll just sit down and write, right? If only it were that simple.

Having the discipline to write one page per day is an accomplishment in itself, but what should you write about? For many of us, the motivation to sit down and write doesn't always strike at the same time the ideas hit home. How to merge the two is another challenge altogether.

If you find yourself staring at that blank page with no ideas within your grasp, try journaling or random-topic writing. The Writing Fix website offers a random topic generator, available for free at the click of a mouse. Try clicking your way to a new idea. If you write fantasy or science fiction, check out the Fantasybits topic list for writing prompts.

Invest in a pocket-sized notebook for jotting down your ideas whenever you're out and about. Whether you're on the subway or in the checkout line at the grocery store, use your notebook to capture those fleeting thoughts. Write about character traits you'd like to incorporate in your stories. Make notes about possible story titles as you think of them, regardless of whether or not you have stories to go with them. Refer back to your notebook during those times when you're unable to meet that one-page-per-day quota without a little added inspiration.

For those who need additional prompting, try enrolling in a creative writing course at your local college or university. Most community colleges offer courses for a very reasonable price. Having a weekly homework assignment hanging over your head may be just the push you need to put that pen to paper. If enrolling in a college course isn't a viable option for you, join a local writers' group or an online critique group where you can receive encouragement from other writers in the same situation.

Remember, start small and build upward from there. One page per day will soon grow into two, three, and maybe even ten pages per day, and before you know it you'll be holding a completed manuscript or screenplay in your hands.

Clustering is a simple brainstorming method you can use in a variety of ways. Its biggest benefit is that it helps you push past your analytical mind and reach into your subconscious mind for ideas that resonate on a deeper level. A single clustering session can produce dozens of great ideas.

In The New Diary, where I first encountered the technique a few years ago, author Tristine Rainer presents clustering as a journaling method for personal transformation. In the How To Think Sideways course, we used clustering to explore ourselves via a process that generated a wealth of material to mine later for story ideas.

The potential applications for clustering are numerous, but today I'm going to describe how I've been using the technique to develop realistic characters with depth.

Clustering is similar to mind-mapping. You begin with a central theme or a single idea and write it in the middle of the page. Then you branch outward, adding related words or phrases as they pop into your mind, and drawing lines to connect any related items.

How to Use This Technique for Character Development

I'll explain the process first, and then I'll walk through an example with images to demonstrate how the character cluster evolves.

I've found clustering works best if I already have a general idea of my character's occupation or have at least one or two basic personality traits in mind before I begin the exercise.

I start by placing the character's name or initials in the center of the page, and then I add branches related to any personality traits I've already decided the character should have. I also add branches related to the character's occupation or important events from his/her past.

For each item I add to the cluster, I ask myself questions: Why does the character have this trait? What event prompted him/her to be this way? How did the character end up in this occupation? How did this event from the character's past affect him/her? How did it change him/her?

As you answer your own questions, you'll add new ideas to the cluster. What you'll quickly notice is how important events from the character's past give rise to personality traits. It works in reverse as well. You'll find yourself adding new personality traits and then creating a backstory to explain how the character acquired those traits.

Let's say you've decided your character is a workaholic. Ask yourself why she's a workaholic, and add the answers to your cluster.

- Is she a workaholic because she loves her job so much she wants to spend every waking moment involved in that field? (And if so, what aspect of the field most interests her? Why? How did she get involved in it?)

- Is she a workaholic because she has difficulty making friends and turns to her job to fill her spare time instead? (And if that's the case, why does she have difficulty making friends? What events in her past prompted this difficulty?)

- Is she a workaholic because she's trying to make a name for herself in her field? (And if so, why is success so important to her? Does she have to work harder than others for recognition? Why?)

If you don't already have a few personality traits in mind, start with the basics. Is your character shy, outgoing, stubborn, patient, impatient, happy, sad, intelligent, dull, witty, lonely, needy, nurturing, loyal, protective, jealous, confident?

Add a few traits to the cluster, and then ask yourself how and why the character acquired those traits. Be sure to ask yourself whether the character is aware that he possesses a particular trait. The answer to that question can have a big impact on your character's personality.

What are your character's biggest fears? Strengths? Weaknesses?

What are your character's hobbies? How did he become interested or involved in a particular hobby? Why does he enjoy it? What does it offer him?

Does your character have any unique or unusual skills? How did he acquire them? How do they affect his daily life and his behavior?

What do you know about your character's past? His childhood? His family? His culture? Add those details to your cluster, and then ask yourself how your character's past contributed to who he is today.

With each new detail you add to your cluster, consider how that information connects to the rest of the information. You'll begin to see how your character's personality and background are tightly interwoven.

You may end up with words or concepts that don't seem at all related to the central theme. Allow one word to lead to another and let your mind follow the path those words create, regardless of where that path takes you. It doesn't matter whether or not your logical mind thinks a particular word is relevant to the character. Write it down anyway. It might become relevant later.

Character Cluster Example

Here is an example of the beginnings of a character cluster. We'll start with a character's name in the center. I'll use "Jack Smith" for this example. We'll make our character a doctor. We don't need to know yet what kind of doctor Jack is. For now, we'll just keep things simple and explore our options. Something else in our cluster might lead to ideas about a specific field of medicine.

I'll add a couple of personality traits: Jack is a workaholic, likes challenges, and has trouble connecting with women. He's also lonely. We'll throw in a hobby — hiking/backpacking — and then we're ready to start asking some questions about Jack.

Here's what our cluster looks like so far*:

This is where things get interesting. Pick an item from the cluster and ask yourself questions about why that item is there.

Let's take "doctor" for starters. What motivated Jack to become a doctor? Maybe his mother died of a terminal illness when he was young and he decided someday he would find the cure for whatever killed her. Now we have even more to work with, because that detail resonates with some of the other items in our cluster. Perhaps Jack has trouble connecting with women because he had no mother around during his childhood, or maybe it's because he's afraid of making a connection and then losing another woman he loves.

We can tie his loneliness to his trouble connecting with women, and to the fact that he is a workaholic and spends most of his time alone in a lab. Let's assume he hasn't found the cure yet and is still desperately searching for it even though his mother passed away long ago.

Let's add those items to our cluster and make the connections*:

Now we can take a look at some of the other items in our cluster. Jack's hobby is hiking/backpacking, and since we also know Jack likes challenges, let's assume he prefers to hike in exotic or even dangerous locales and enjoys tackling rough trails most people wouldn't dare attempt. He probably likes to push himself, to overachieve. We can use all those details to explore other aspects of Jack's life — aspects that could potentially generate story ideas.

Maybe during his trips to other countries he also spends time volunteering his medical services as part of a program like Doctors Without Borders. Perhaps he took up backpacking as a hobby because he heard a rumor about a rare plant curing the disease that killed his mother and the plant can only be found deep in the jungle. Or maybe he simply enjoys exploring the quiet woods on his own, a hobby prompted by his difficulty connecting with other people.

The important thing is to dig deep, to delve below the surface and discover what makes him tick. Keep asking yourself those questions. You'll discover new layers of your character's personality, and in the end you'll have a realistic, three-dimensional character instead of a cardboard cutout.

* The cluster maps shown in these images were created with a free mind-mapping software program called Cayra.

I've come to the conclusion I truly deserve to be crowned Queen of Procrastination. Procrastination is a big kingdom — especially with so many writers taking up residence there so often — so Queen of Procrastination is a title one would expect me to be proud of, yet somehow I don't feel quite as proud as I should. Instead, I'm burdened with the weight of the lurking feeling of guilt one gets after living in Procrastination far too long, which brings me to the topic of this entry: how to move away from Procrastination and into the much more rewarding place I like to call the Writing Zone.

The Writing Zone is a beautiful, magical place. It fills us with a vibrant excitement that gets our blood pumping and our skin tingling. It puts us on a high unlike any other. It's a powerfully addictive drug, only without all the messiness and legal problems.

Think back to the last time you wrote an incredible scene, a scene that just flowed from your mind and through your fingers onto the page. Think of how you felt as you poured out your soul through those words. Reach back to that blissfully perfect moment and try to call up those same feelings again. It makes one wistful just to think about it. Achievement of the Writing Zone is to a writer as achievement of enlightenment is to a Zen monk.

But how can one achieve the Writing Zone at will?

The question is a common one. How can a writer end a long period of procrastination — often given the notorius title Writers Block — and get back into the writing groove? We've all been there at one time or another, drifting aimlessly as we attempt to find the motivation to put words to paper. It's like a vacuum, a void where incentive and enthusiasm evaporate on contact, the writers' version of the Black Hole. It sucks us all into its murky depths at least once in our writing career — usually more than once, unless you're particularly fortunate — so it's important to be armed with the proper sense for recognizing that lost and aimless state and squashing it before it swallows you whole.

In order to address the procrastination problem, I've compiled a list of techniques that may help you overcome the desire to do laundry, wash dishes, rearrange the books on your bookshelf, alphabetize your CD collection, photocopy images of your hands, or do anything else that falls into the category of "excuses for why I don't have time to write today." These are simple exercises you can practice anytime, and they often can be useful even if you're not lingering in Procrastination.

1. Make a list of story titles. At this point in the exercise, it doesn't matter if you have a story to go with each title, just write down whatever catchy titles come to mind. Keep going until you have at least five or six titles, preferably more if you can manage it. To take this exercise a step further, try coming up with stories to go along with each title. To take it even further than that, try coming up with more than one story to go with each title.

2. Find a person — a friend, family member, coworker, or even a stranger you can observe for a few moments without looking suspiciously stalker-ish — and watch the person for a few minutes. Observe the person's physical appearance, posture, gestures and mannerisms. If possible, listen to him/her speaking and study the person's voice, language and inflection. Make notes while observing, or make mental notes and put them on paper later when you're no longer with the person. Based on your observations, turn the person into a character. Give her a made-up background, as brief as a few sentences or as long as a life story, whatever you're able to dream up. Once your new character has a history, put the character in a setting in which you feel she would be completely out of place (commonly referred to as a "fish out of water" situation) and contemplate how the character would react. You may find the basis for a new story through practicing this simple exercise.

3. Try your hand at an exercise called Freenoting. Freenoting is based on the practice of free association or word association, where one word leads to the thought of another word, which in turn leads to the thought of another word, etc., in a freely continuous stream of thought. In many cases, the words we associate in this type of free association exercise may be very unexpected. Here's how it works:

On a blank sheet of paper, write whatever word comes to mind, then write the next word that comes to mind, then the next, then the next, and so on. Don't stop long enough to think about what you're writing, simply keep writing non-stop. Stopping to think about what you're writing will defeat the purpose of allowing your mind to reach deeply and surface with new ideas and new thoughts. Try to keep going for at least two minutes. You can write the words on lined paper, adding each new word on the next line, or randomly cover a page with words, filling whatever blank space is available.

If at any point during a freenoting session you're hit with an idea or the inspiration to write, by all means stop freenoting and follow that inspiration. The purpose of freenoting is to trigger precisely that type of creative burst.

As an alternative form of this exercise, try practicing this same type of free association out loud, recording your words into a tape recorder or directly into your computer (if you're technically inclined).

4. Give random journaling a try. Rather than making daily journal entries to rehash the events of your day, write about a randomly generated topic. This forces you to think about something you most likely wouldn't have pondered on your own, at least not at that particular moment, and that type of thinking outside our comfort zone often stimulates new ideas. There are many good sites with random topic generators. The random topic generator at the Writing Fix site is worth checking out. For those who write fantasy and science fiction, it will take you months or even years to work through all the topics on the the Fantasybits random topic list.

5. Discipline yourself, but be gentle about it. Most successful writers describe adhering to a personal writing routine. As William Faulkner once said, "I write only when I'm inspired. Fortunately I'm inspired at 9 o'clock every morning."

Gradually train yourself to adhere to a routine of your own. To ease yourself into a routine, try sticking to a "one page or one hour per day" minimum at first. If you're the type who can sit in front of the computer and watch an hour slip by as you contemplate the wonders of screensavers, try going with the one-page-per-day routine instead of one-hour-per-day. Once you're able to adhere to a "one page or one hour per day" routine, make it one-and-a-half pages or one-and-a-half hours per day, and continue to gradually increase the page/time in half-page or half-hour intervals as you settle comfortably into the routine.

6. If nothing else succeeds in helping you overcome the pressing desire to procrastinate, try writing about procrastination. (Hey, don't laugh…it's working for me right now, isn't it?) Write about all the reasons why you don't feel like writing about something else. Write about why you feel like you're drifting aimlessly. Write about why you wish you were in the Writing Zone once again. Often simply writing about how or why you're not in the writing groove will put you in the writing groove.

I have an addiction. I've tried to overcome it, but my efforts have been met with an amazing level of resistance. My body fights me. My mind fights me. I often wonder if I'll be addicted to this stuff forever. So many times I've tried and failed to quit, by this point it is hardly more than a joke. What am I addicted to, you ask? Well, I'll get to that detail later in this article, and I'll even fill you in on how I used my own personal addiction as inspiration when developing one of the main characters in my current writing project.

Why do characters need flaws? Perfect characters are boring, and sometimes even annoying. Perfect characters don't have to struggle as hard to achieve their goals. After all, they're perfect. Things come easily to perfect people. If there's no struggle, there's no conflict, and conflict is what makes good writing. Character flaws provide sources of conflict. They can be sources of conflict with other characters, conflict with the environment, and, in many instances, conflict with self.

In most cases, you want a character who isn't perfect but is in some way better than average, or at least a character who has the potential to be better than average. Fulfilling that potential — overcoming obstacles and growing into that better-than-average self — will become part of the conflict that drives your story. You want a hero, someone willing to take action, not a passive wimp. Readers are living vicariously through your characters. They want to feel special, and for that you need special characters. At the same time, a character who is too special, too perfect, seems unrealistic and comes across as a cardboard cut-out. Give your character some flaws in one area to compensate for his above average skills in other areas.

Why do we love flawed characters so much? Because we feel like we could be them, we could walk in their shoes, we could — with the right kind of skill and motivation — overcome the same obstacles they overcame. We can immerse ourselves more fully in the story because we can step into the character's shoes, see things from his perspective, and believe in the reality of it. If they're heroes with flaws, we can aspire to be like them and actually have some hope of succeeding in that endeavor. They give us hope. They give us, imperfect and flawed beings that we are, a glimpse of what we could be. If they're perfect, we dismiss any hope of ever reaching such glorious heights. We can't relate to them. We can't empathize with them.

Make your character's flaws intriguing and interesting, not tedious and irritating. You want someone readers will enjoy spending time with, preferably so much they reread your novel or screenplay until the pages are worn and tattered. You don't want a character whose qualities grate on the reader's nerves. Give your character enough flaws to be interesting but not so many as to be overwhelming. It's a delicate balance. Unless done right, characters who are too flawed are almost as annoying as characters who are too perfect.

Ask yourself: How does this flaw affect my character's behavior, his attitude, his reactions? Take, for example, Tony Shalhoub's character on the television series Monk. He is obsessive-compulsive about germs, cleanliness, and order. That flaw is a factor in each storyline. It affects how Monk acts and reacts in every situation. How do your character's flaws affect her actions? How do they affect the storyline?

If you can't come up with any flaws for your character, look around. Think about your friends, your family, your next-door neighbors, your boss and coworkers. Contemplate what it is about each of them that irritates you. Is your neighbor a nosy gossip? Is your brother too impatient? Does your boss have a temper? Does a friend have a tendency to act first and analyze the situation later, usually after his impulsive actions trigger unpleasant consequences? Voila! You've pinpointed flaws you can incorporate into your characters.

If all else fails, draw on your own personal flaws for inspiration. (What's that you say? You have no flaws? Think again.)

Consider how those flaws impact the person's personality and behavior. How do the flaws manifest in his actions? Is he aware of these flaws, either consciously or subconsciously, or is he blissfully ignorant? Does he take steps to compensate for the flaws? Does he unconsciously compensate for them? How do other people respond or react to the person when these flaws are on display?

To illustrate this point, let's go back to my personal addiction. Two weeks ago, I tried to quit. It was agonizing. I struggled. I swore. I lasted thirteen days, until I simply couldn't stand it anymore. I caved, and it was off to the 7-11 to get my fix… Mt. Dew Code Red.

Caffeine. Sugar. Deliciously sweet cherry flavor. Pure bliss in a bottle.

Not to mention, hundreds of calories and enough chemicals to preserve an elephant.

It may seem silly, but it's an addiction nonetheless. I can't stop, and I hate myself for my weakness. I detest my lack of willpower. I despise the fact that when I take that first swig, my mind and body sigh in unison with complete and utter contentment. When I don't have it, when I try to stay away from it, it's all I can think about. It intrudes on every waking thought. Its power over me becomes painfully obvious. I can hear it calling my name from every convenience store within a twenty-mile radius.

All I can do, I finally decided, is find a way to use this in my writing, to turn this misery into something productive. Something good had to come out of all this suffering and self-loathing.

I gave one of my characters an addiction — not to Mt. Dew Code Red, but to something far more interesting instead — and was able to write about his struggle with powerful emotion, intensity, and insight. Not only that, but his addiction gave me an idea for a new spin on the story and I was able to tie it into the storyline in ways I hadn't even expected.

Flaws can generate new story ideas, or they can simply flesh out characters and make them more realistic and lifelike. Flaws give a character depth and move him from a two-dimensional page into a vivid, three-dimensional reality, even if that reality exists solely within the mind of your reader.

While working as a freelance script consultant, it was my job to help writers raise the quality of their writing to the highest level attainable. In the course of any given day, I came across a problem appearing in each of the scripts crossing my desk, and I have since noticed the same problem cropping up in book after book.

The problem? The unnecessary "that."

It is a wonder how one little word could worm its way so firmly into the hearts and minds of writers, yet the word "that" has done just . . . well, that.

The word "that" has become ingrained in our daily vocabulary, and many people have difficulty recognizing how often it is misused. It pops up in sentence upon sentence, yet nine times out of ten it is not needed. In a screenplay or manuscript, where space is limited and every inch of text is precious, unnecessary words are a death sentence.

Consider the following sentence:

"She was so tired that she nearly fell asleep at the wheel."

Throwing a "that" into the middle of a sentence cuts sharply into the flow of the words, causing an uncomfortably staccato effect. As writers, we want our words to roll smoothly through the reader's mind, flowing naturally from sentence to sentence. The choppy interruption caused by an unnecessary "that" is what we strive to avoid.

Now, consider the same sentence with the word "that" removed:

"She was so tired she nearly fell asleep at the wheel."

Has the meaning been changed by removing the word "that"? No, not at all. In fact, the sentence is streamlined and flows much more smoothly without the word "that" buried in the center.

In reviewing the common usage of the word "that," you'll find most instances of the word are unwarranted. We've reached the point where we use it out of habit instead of necessity. The writing contained in a screenplay or manuscript should be based on necessity, on using as few words as possible to convey your intended meaning. Using "that" where it isn't needed only detracts from the quality of your material.

Review your screenplays and manuscripts with a fine-toothed comb — or better yet, a red pen — and cross out every unnecessary "that" you encounter. If you're unsure of whether a "that" is really necessary, read the sentence aloud a few times, leaving out the word. If the sentence still makes sense without including the "that", the word isn't needed.

Here are a few examples to get you started on the path to eliminating the unnecessary "that":

UNNECESSARY

She told me that she would be home in time for dinner.

I can't believe that he's capable of murder.

He was at home the night that she was murdered.

Make sure that you know what sort of person you're dealing with.

She glances at the photo that is sitting on the nightstand.

NECESSARY

The minute he laid eyes on her, he realized he'd never truly loved anyone until that moment.

Do you remember what you saw that night?

That she had a fiery temper was already a well-known fact.