Hello, friends! Welcome to this month’s meeting of the Insecure Writer’s Support Group, a blog hop created by Alex J. Cavanaugh and co-hosted this month by Joylene Nowell Butler, Olga Godim, Diedre Knight, and Natalie Aguirre. If you’re a writer and if you feel insecure about your writing life, click here to learn more about this awesomely supportive group!
I felt unsatisfied by my writing last year. I haven’t felt properly satisfied in my writing life for several years now. There were extenuating circumstances. One personal disaster after another. Finding time to write was difficult. But 2024 will be different. That’s more than a vain hope; I have good reason to believe that this year will, in fact, be different, and so I feel confident in making the following New Year’s resolution: I resolve to get back to writing—to get back to writing like I used to write!
To do that, there are some old writing lessons that I need to relearn. The first problem I’ve encountered is the temptation of info-dumping. I’m sure we’ve all come across books like the book pictured below, especially those of us who read fantasy and science fiction.
As a Sci-Fi writer, I’ve developed a vast and complicated new universe for my fiction. This vast and complicated new universe includes new science, new technology, new political institutions, new economic systems, new environmental hazards, new cultural norms, new fashions of clothes, new styles of art and literature and music—and it really seems like I ought to explain all these new things to my readers before I can expect them to understand what’s going to happen in my story… right?
But I don’t. I have to keep reminding myself that I don’t have to explain everything up front. The Hobbit didn’t explain everything up front. Neither did Dune, and neither did the first Star Wars movie. Next time you watch Star Wars: A New Hope, take note of how long the movie waits to tell you about the Jedi and the Force.
So as I try to get back to writing like I used to, I’m setting a new rule for myself: explain only one thing at a time. Just one thing. Yes, there’s a vast and complicated universe out there that my readers will need to learn about eventually. But all of that can wait. The socio-political stuff can wait. The extraterrestrial biology stuff can wait. The fashion choices of the future can wait.
Right now, in whatever scene I’m currently writing, I’m only allowed to explain one thing to my readers. Just one thing. So what will it be? What is the one thing—the one and only thing—that my readers need to know about at this point in the story? Asking myself that question will, hopefully, stop me from info-dumping for 400 pages before my story even begins.
P.S.: It’s the sigma oscillation device. In the scene I’m currently writing, the one thing I need to explain to my readers is what the heck a sigma oscillation device is.









