Because I worked as a writing tutor for about five years, I have read a lot of amateur work. I still read amateur work from time to time as a pro-bono beta reader.

And I have a lot of amateur work stuffed into my own Word Docs, which I pretend does not exist.

As such, I am intimately familiar with the many problems that crop up when you’re learning. Knowing what they are so you can fix them will help you improve faster.

Please note that I am not going to share any real examples of work I think is amateur. We are not here to shame beginners, and none of this is meant to discourage anyone. Rather, I want you to be able to review your work with these issues in mind so that you can workshop ways to avoid such issues.

Unattributed Dialogue

The occasional unattributed line of dialogue is fine – but only one, during an established conversation, when we can easily figure out who spoke.

So we’re not talking about a single line of text. Rather, I’m speaking about something like this:

Megan twirled her hair around her finger as Priya stared at her.

“So you’re going to ask him out?”

“Of course I am.”

“But why? He’s so ugly. I don’t get it.”

“I don’t know, I just like him,” Priya said while munching on a cinnamon roll.

“That’s not a good enough answer.”

“It is to me.”

We can’t really guess who is speaking in each part, especially because both girls are on equal footing in the first line. Both of them are performing an action rather than sitting more passively, and neither action really suggests speech.

It’s only in the fifth line that we realize Priya is the one asking the boy out, while Ashley is the one interrogating her. That’s far too late for us to get a real sense of what is happening.

Before you say “Ah, but Hemingway did this,” I will say that you (and I) are not Hemingway. Do not place yourself in the category of The Greats if you haven’t achieved that status.

I think this problem may come from the fact that many writers get an interest in writing a book not from reading a lot of books – but from watching a lot of movie adaptations of books. Thus, they write their dialogue like a screenplay rather than an actual book.

So, let’s look at how to fix this.

Ashley stopped twirling her hair around her finger, staring accusingly at an impassive Priya.

“So you’re going to ask him out?”

Huffing, Priya picked up her cinnamon roll. “Of course I am.”

“But why?” Ashley asked with a scowl. “He’s so ugly. I don’t get it.”

“I don’t know, I just like him,” Priya said with her mouth full.

Brows darkening, Ashley grabbed the paper plate away so her friend couldn’t snatch the rest of the roll. “That’s not a good enough answer.”

“It is to me.”

Pairing dialogue with an action helps you avoid the very annoying “he said, she said,” blah blah blah, while also moving the plot along. This also discourages you from using a million different dialogue tags that you don’t need, like “growled,” “complained,” etc. Speaking of that ….

Always using special dialogue tags

Now, I do not believe that you never should use anything but “said,” “asked,” and so on. I use them, but only if I believe they add extra weight or interest to the dialogue.

“I love you,” she said, is very different from “I love you,” she sobbed. One suggests a more neutral action, while the other suggests that her lover may be on the brink of death or trying to leave her.

Regardless, do not use them for every single piece of dialogue, because it’s tiring. Only use them if they provide additional context for what is being said that we could not understand otherwise.

And, of course, you can use action attribution, as I showed above, to avoid using “said” entirely.

White Room Syndrome

Description has gotten a bad rap lately for reasons unknown (TikTok). But, at least to me, there are few things more frustrating than having a scene that magically disappears while the characters are speaking. No one is engaging with the environment; they’re just standing around and nothing is happening around them.

The easiest way to avoid White Room Syndrome is to simply let the characters interact with the environment as they are speaking: note things happening around them, pick up objects, be distracted by something else while they talk.

Many times, White Room Syndrome is combined with unattributed dialogue, which naturally reveals an easy way to fix the problem. Have the characters do things through action attribution.

Pay attention to how many times you have mentioned something in the environment. If it has been more than a few paragraphs, throw some tangible actions in, or mention a noise or a color or whatever.

Even great writers can fall into White Room Syndrome if they’re not careful because they are getting really focused on what the characters are doing. That’s the joy of revision, though – and it’s why you should reread your work multiple times, each time focusing on something different.

Mechanical Writing

This was covered in my post about using mundane scenes. Essentially, mechanical writing is when you just lay everything out in basic, yet excruciating detail.

Again, I believe this comes from writers who watch too many movies instead of reading enough books. You do not need to do a play-by-play of everything a character is doing in a book like you would in a screeplay; they are completely different disciplines.

Fiction is a representation of real life, but it is not real life itself. You can gloss over certain assumed actions, like getting out of bed, or opening a door, or whatever. Show us what is important and assume your readers know enough about real life to fill in the missing actions.

Cardboard Cutout Characters

When I say cardboard cutouts, this is what I mean.

Characters don’t have compelling motivations, desires, or interests. We don’t know what they want from life or their plans to achieve it.

What we know about the character is basic, trivial things, like they like a certain food, listen to certain music, have a certain job, etc.

Any labels or identities aren’t engaged with in a meaningful way. The characters don’t feel any different for being queer, or neurodivergent, or from a certain culture. We are expected to empathize with them because of their identities, not because of who they are.

The characters do not emote as one would expect because the writer doesn’t really care about their reactions; they’re trying to tell a story about a thing that happens and needed someone for it to happen to. So, the MC’s father dies, and they go “oh no, that’s sad,” and stuff moves on.

The characters have no contradictions or depth. They always act the same in every situation, whether it’s a hostage situation or the barista getting their coffee order wrong.

Characters may have a tragic backstory, but it does not appear to affect them in any way. They don’t get triggered, or angry, or act like a traumatized person would be expected to.

Characters are not differentiated from one another. If taken out of context, a meaningful piece of dialogue could be from anyone in the story.

None of the “good” characters ever fight with each other, even in terrible situations. They always act in the nicest, kindest, sweetest, purest way possible because the author is scared of making them seem mean.

All conflict comes from outside of the character, and typically outside of the “good” group of characters.

Characters do not grow and change throughout the story. No matter what they go through, they act exactly the same as they did in the beginning.

There is no agency. Characters don’t need to make decisions; the story makes decisions for them. They simply react to whatever is happening and don’t change the plot.

Many of my first attempts at characterization were frankly terrible. The characters were boring, and flat, and felt like plot points instead of people. I had reached that frustrating writing stage where I knew I wasn’t doing it right, but I also wasn’t sure how to fix it.

To improve, I wrote a ton of fanfic. Over a million words of it.

This makes perfect sense: you have premade characters who are already interesting enough that you want to write about them. Many times, you have a whole group of people who also like that character and want to dissect everything they do.

Don’t feel weird about writing fanfic, no matter your age. Most of the best writers I know – and, indeed, many published authors – started with fanfic. You can learn damn near everything you need to by reading good books (not just other fanfic) and writing about characters you already like.

You also don’t feel the pressure to publish your first story, which is a pitfall many amateur writers stumble into. And then they get no positive feedback because their book is really bad, and then they are discouraged, and then they don’t want to keep going.

Avoid the siren song of premature self-publishing by writing fanfic: legally impossible to copyright! My post about how to write relatable characters could also be helpful in this regard.

Melodrama

I did a whole post on melodrama in writing which you can read for further details, so I don’t go too into depth here.

New writers do not realize yet that their readers will check out if there’s constant excitement. It’s too much for us to process; you can only ramp up the stakes so much until we are not interested.

As such, pare down the action. Less is more. Choose one huge plot point and let the story build up to that through mini-climaxes: small scenes that hint at what is to come.

Add downtime scenes, where everyone can relax and catch their breath. These aren’t filler scenes; this is a time to share more information, build characterization, and create connection with the characters.

Overly Chill Downtime Scenes

… But, you also cannot have downtime scenes that feel totally out of place and destroy the mood.

For example, if there’s a war going on and the characters are in danger, do not suddenly cut to some bucolic scene where they’re all laughing and chatting like nothing is wrong. It’s weird, and it actually lowers the stakes, because if they can go pluck daffodils, are they really in that much danger?

Unless you have one of them get sniped or something. Then you’ve got a great tragedy on your hands. So if you can pull that off, then by all means, let them pluck daffodils.

Infodumps

I put this at the end because writers at all stages can fall into this trap. Despite over a decade of writing, I still screw up sometimes because I can’t figure out a way not to just tell you the information.

You probably have an infodump if there is just a full few paragraphs explaining what the backstory is, where they are, what is happening. This is especially true if you’re explaining some mythology or history or whatever.

One of the easiest fixes, and the one I rely on most, is for a character to say it rather than the narrator.

Here’s an example from the sixth book in my series, Poesy:

“I don’t see why you’re always whining about this place,” Uileac said, looking at her with eyes so like her own. “It was pretty good for a brand-new High Poet. Has anyone ever complained?”

No, none of her fellows had voiced their concerns about the environs, Cerie realized resentfully. They were just being nice, though.

“Then again, I’ve never been inside. Maybe it’s a total wreck.” He winked, smile widening in proportion to her scowl, before gently punching her shoulder. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

“You’re horrible. The worst brother ever.”

Shaking his head, Uileac stretched and hummed. “Oh? If you really want to know how good of a brother I am, the War Committee demanded I not bother to escort you. They only agreed because I left them an Infantry Captain as a deposit.”

She smiled faintly at the idea of Orrinir used like a token but refused to interrupt Uileac as he continued. “This retreat is right by the border; do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

Other than Cerie’s internal dialogue, we got a bunch of vital information from a natural-sounding conversation between two siblings. They are talking to one another, not to us, even though we’re gleaning a lot of useful intel from what they are saying.

Don’t get discouraged if you have a lot of these problems in your work; it’s completely normal. Experienced writers still have these issues from time to time. The difference is that experienced writers can identify and fix the problem.

Noticing you have an issue is half the battle. By becoming intentional with your writing and workshopping solutions, you can make a story that people love.