Flow:
Chop, chop, chop. When writing is choppy, jumping from one idea tp the next, with nothing between to transition, the flow is as tough as river rafting, and it can be almost like puzzling out a mystery with clues, to figure out ejere the story is going, what happened, and what you’re supposed to be thinking about as this story jumps, skips, and hops to and fro. Some stories go back and forth between future and past–which can be super annoying to me, so I prefer to flow, in the moment, from one scene to the next, using proper transitions, for a calm gentle ride, as we sail off into other universes, interesting possibilities, and creative opportunities.
Pacing: (Books vs Travel Type)
How fast is this car driving? Not being in the driver’s seat, you get to follow at the pace set by the author’s gas pedal, until you get out.
•*Sonic speed is: born, lived, and now died. The end. The author broke the sound barrier, crossed everything so fast it was a blur, and the ride is over. (P.S. This is a drastic overgeneralization, since almost no book would be 5 words long, especially since it is grammatically incorrect, with no subject–I or He/She/ that Thing, the business, my career–nor actual story line and plot. Plus, this pacing could cover a rapid progress in a story, not necessarily life summary or an individual.)
•*Highway speed: the path might be travelling far, far way, resisting tourist stops, and not enjoying a moment to stop and smell the roses, there are mere pitstops for gas and other necessities. The scenes from the slowed down focus are crucial for not dull empty stories. Changes of life, an emotional reaction, perhaps a special person entered or left the character’s life. But, this cross country road trip is skipping lots of opportunities to delve into reactions and messages.
•*Vacation: This story only stops at interesting places, to take a tour, enjoys a nice restaurant, and splurges on the details. Very enjoyable, skipping ‘boring parts’, this speed is comfortable, but still fairly busy, fast paced, with jumping from scene to scene, only taking pictures of the really good, impressive, or really bad.
•*Daily Life: There’s the drive to work, skip the familiar things blurring into the background, but experiencing most everything vividly, from the most accident, to annoyance at a coworker, but working hard on the main story line and side distractions, very much ‘living life’, all the good and bad included.
•*Hiking: slowed down, every step, every smell, every sight, every interaction, from weather to emotions are all clearly recorded, with a regular pacing, almost never stopping until rest is required or getting to the end.
•*Swimming: A vivid struggle, where the whole body has to move, a lot, to move past, or relax to float and do nothing but let the story flow.
•*Crawling through Mud/ Molasses: The pacing is so slow, the view of the area so hard to see, you only see the moment, and it takes FOREVER to get anywhere!
P.S. Although I’m mocking the pacing speed with exaggerated emotions, I don’t think any of the pacing speeds are bad. For example, How to books go into excruciating detail, slow as molasses, but your comprehension us extremely great. For sonic speed, if a history book boils down a military tactic or famous situation into as few sentences as, possible, by boiling away the unnecessary words–like, and then, in an amazing stroke of genius, it was if comparing to–you get a concentrated amount of facts, very clearly, without distracting from the lesson. Pacing of every type has a time, place, and story type. Slow and detailed with few simple words is great for baby books, while fast summaries of histories allow for information each mind level is ready for. I will say, some of my stories don’t have enough details, as it speeds through red lights, while others are so overly detailed (like an early type to describe a maze), you get sick trying to absorb the information dump and excess. Depending on the story and how much I put on the breaks, can alter what speed the stories are paced as.
Voice:
As unique as a fingerprint or genetic code from DNA, a writer has influences ranging from first language, to regional dialect, phrases unique to the area’s culture, as well as a life time of exposure to many other experiences. Sentence structures of simple for children books or complex for older youth, all the way up to the compound-complex for really heavy editing later. Simple words to long or uncommon vocabulary, up to the scientific divisions or special words used only in certain jobs or groups called ‘jargon’.
Eg. “I need a P90 form, on my desk/ at my station STAT!” Have you ever said those words in your life? Do you know what that form is for? STAT is emphasis on speedy accomplishment of the task, but it isn’t used in every job type. This example is also very aggressive, assertive, almost angry, harsh, or cold. Compare the former words to, “Dear, about the meeting we had earlier, could you Pretty Please gather what is needed for me to fill out, while I finish up in here. If it could be done immediately, that would be a great help. Thank you so much.” There was almost no change in the message itself, except the tone. There was no jargon, while the words were kind, gentle, and easy to understand.
Each character, if written well, has their own voice, but by combining it all together, so does the author. English uses ‘trashcan’, while England uses the word ‘bin’. What is rude in one country (smiling can be calling someone an idiot, thumbs up can mean ‘up yours’, and the American sign for ‘ok’, could be considered as calling someone an asshole), might be seen as good, encouraging, or kind in another. As complex as deciphering DNA, so too is finding a voice on the cold print of letters on paper, because it takes more effort than identifying the tones and nicknames used by your friends in instantly familiar ways. But, from descriptions of settings to characters and emotions to scene interaction, AI can ape the patterns, but not yet have it’s own voice, as it mimics others, like recordings spliced together of voice prints. It can take time to develop your voice and be hard to recognize when you’ve achieved a unique voice, but if you continue writing, it is there.
I discovered mine when impatiently waiting for a second book to come out, decided to use the hints of possibilities to predict what was coming next for those memorable characters, accidentally wrote a fan fiction, and when reading the actual second book, from character growth, to becoming overpowered, and even the rules of magick and how it was applied, was do incredibly different, while my extremely detailed scenes were slowed so much the pacing was like stuck in molasses, I finally could recognize I had a very different writing voice than that author I’d met personally, and finally had the idea that I could write a book too!