AgenderIdentifies as having no gender. May feel genderless, neutral, or not connected to gender at all.

My face didn’t feel like mine. I didn’t feel like I had any connection to my body. I wasn’t attracted to anyone romantically or sexually, so I didn’t have a marker there, either.

Agender is a term used to describe someone who identifies as having no gender. This means they don’t feel a connection to the traditional categories of man or woman, or even somewhere in between. In some cases, agender people describe themselves as genderless or gender-neutral.

if there are multiple viewpoint-character chapters or sections, all operating in the present tense. You’ll need to keep a close eye on the timelines so that the reader’s clear on what ‘now’ really means

The present is immediate, and that right-nowness forces the reader to stick close to the viewpoint character. We’re in the moment with them. That’s why it appeals to some fiction authors, and why others find it restrictive.

Now and then, you might want to reference events from your novel’s past that happened routinely or habitually. This is where the habitual past tense comes into play, and the tools are would and used to.

If you don’t want to use the habitual past, then an alternative anchor is necessary. Here I’ve added an anchoring clause and changed the tense to past perfect (he’d, or he had):

when we set a novel in the past tense, anything that happens in the story’s past will likely need the past perfect, at least when the action is introduced. You want the reader to experience ​now – the present of your novel Use the simple past or past progressive ​(she stood; she was standing)   You want the reader to experience the ​​something that happened before now (i.e. in the novel’s past) Use the ​past perfect ​(she had stood; she had been standing)

​The past tense Now let’s turn to the past tense, starting with some basic examples: Simple past: I wrote a novel; he wrote a novel Past progressive: I was writing a novel; he was writing a novel Past perfect: I had written a novel; he had written a novel Past perfect progressive: I had been writing a novel; he had been writing a novel Habitual past: I would write a chapter every week; he would write a chapter every week; I used to write a chapter every week; he used to write a chapter every week

​The present tense Here’s an overview of the present tense, with basic examples: Simple present: I write a novel; he writes a novel Present progressive (also called present continuous): I am writing a novel; he is writing a novel Present perfect: I have written a novel; he has written a novel Present perfect progressive: I have been writing a novel; he has been writing a novel

The present tense can also be tiring for readers because it’s emotionally immersive. If you’re writing a novel, you might consider using it only for certain viewpoint characters – your transgressor or victim, for example.

If your plot twist hinges on deliberately duping them via your use of tense rather than story craft, you’ll break their trust.

​The present tense is great if you want to shorten the distance between the reader and the viewpoint character.

while the transformative event may be the exact moment a character changes, often everything in the movie has been chosen by the writer to set up and build toward that moment. So, the transformative event alone may not be enough to earn your ending, if the rest of the movie hasn’t set up and built toward that transformation.

if you want to credibly transform your character, you have to make them suffer.

Now this could work in real life. A person could read a self-help book or get advice from a friend or therapist, recognize the error in their ways, and then start acting differently.But the reason it doesn’t work in a movie is that it’s not dramatic. It’s too easy.

Here is what I think doesn’t work when trying to credibly arc a character–and what my first two scripts involved: A mentor character points out the error in the protagonist’s ways, and the protagonist in the next scene begins acting differently.In other words, the protagonist hears the wise advice, thinks to himself or herself, “Yeah, you’re right,” and then immediately starts living differently.

The character changed or arced at the end of the story, but the reader didn’t buy it; that is, the reader didn’t see what would have led the character to change. The writer simply wrote the character as behaving differently at the end.

When a screenplay reader says the ending is unearned, they typically mean one of two related things:Either the victory the character achieved at the end was too easy, or

The protagonist’s arcThe protagonist’s starting equilibriumThe event that pushes the protagonist out of equilibriumThe ironic second act (how the second act is both the worst thing that could happen to the protagonist and perfectly designed to change/heal him or her)The protagonist’s second-act goalThe transformative eventThe central dramatic argumentThe third-act test or choice in which the protagonist shows he or she has learned the theme/central dramatic argument

fixing story issues requires knowing how to write people, not characters. Are the choices the characters making in line with their core values and motivations? How are the characters’ cultures impacting their decision-making? Learn a bit of psychology and sociology, because this will help immensely in creating believable characters. Most importantly, put pieces of yourself in each character to give them nuances.

let’s not mistake pacing issues with story or character issues. A decently paced story can’t overcome the challenges faced by terribly developed characters. Similarly, well developed characters can’t carry a nonsense or boring plot forward. How do you fix story issues? The answer is simple, but it’s not easy. Make the story and characters believable. Would plot point A naturally cause plot point B? Research parallel situations that have happened in history. Because history is weird, but it has amazing story inspiration possibilities.

characters are making several key decisions that impact the trajectory of the plot, then a 5 act story structure might be for you. If there are only a handful of life-changing moments the characters encounter, then a 3 act structure might be for you

How many plot points do you have? Where do they line up in terms of the story’s timeline? Where are the plot-pivoting decisions that the characters make

The best advice I can give is to outline the major plot points for the story at large alongside the character plot points that lead to character development (if there is any, some characters are static

Act 1: The characters are introduced and the main plot point is revealed.Act 2: The characters are introduced to subplot points in the pursuit of solving the main plot point.Act 3: A subplot point is resolved as the characters move closer to solving the main plot point, but another subplot may be introduced.Act 4: Another subplot point is resolved in pursuit of resolving the main plot. There may or may not be another subplot introduced.Act 5: If this is a standalone story, most subplots are resolved and typically, the main plot is resolved too. If this is a series, the main plot point may either avoid being resolved or be revealed to be nothing but a subplot in the overarching series.

We are all very familiar with this structure because it has been the default for movies and TV shows. Traditionally, it goes like this: Act 1: The main characters are introduced to each other and realize there’s a problem they must face with or against each other.Act 2: The main characters try to fix the problem but it doesn’t work out.Act 3: The main characters rally again to fix the problem and it works out this time. Go team!

whether a text is literary or not is not as important as the methods of analyzing texts. In fact, texts which were excluded from literature are often argued into the literary canon through such analysis.