What does it take for an author to write compelling and successful Sci-Fi and Fantasy stories?

There is no such thing as fiction. Who are we to say that alternate realities do not exist?

This is the inspired theme that I use presently in my own fantasy stories of The Morning Star series, and the divine theme that I teach to my aspiring authors across my Story Launching programs.

To write a compelling Science Fiction and or a Fantasy story, authors are coached to write their world as if they are as real as their own believable reality that they reside.

The success of any Sci-Fi and Fantasy Story depends entirely upon the believability of the world they are creating, and this believability begins with the author believing it first.

The preparation and creation of this world, of course, is expanded and expounded upon by the author as the story evolves. And many of these details may never appear in the narrative for the reader. The details of such believable realities are woven and crafted by and for the author ultimately as the book’s foundation.

And only from this believable world do the setting, characters, dialogue, conflict, theme, and story emerge.

Bridging the Gap to Fiction

There is a difference between fiction and nonfiction. You have heard me say before there is no distinction between the two and they are both the truth. Even the most otherworldly of fantasies are created from the heart and mind and carry worldly, human ideals and a human soul. If both fiction and nonfiction are created in you, does that not mean they are both the truth?

Deep sighs? Don’t worry, because despite what I have said above, there is a stark difference between the two. Let us dig deeper and find some qualities that distinguish fiction from nonfiction.

I will not limit our deep dive to obvious differences like setting, world, dialogue, climax, tone and style. Mind you, these qualities are crucially different between fiction and nonfiction. So too is the fact that one category is based on objective physical events, while the other is based on creations from a subjective mind.

There are many fine lines to consider in discussing the difference between fiction and nonfiction. There is the threshold we all cross as we are pulled into a powerful story. There is that illusory quality making a nonfiction book seem to read at times like fiction. There is an inner voice that compels us to tell our mom, best friend, or grocery clerk about a tale that has just gripped us to our core. There are special moments when authors recreate fantasy experiences we lived through as children, just when we thought those adventures were nothing but memories to us.

I’m talking of a bridge separating fiction from nonfiction, placing stories atop islands of our own creation. There is a magic pulling us in in those moments, removing our physical lenses and leaving us with only truths of the spirit. The truths of human existence, experience, and relationships too.

The magic of fiction is this bridge it creates, a bridge spanning the gap between teaching and knowing, and a bridge which has been created countless times before us. 

The magic of nonfiction resides in its ability to ground us; to remind us we are physical beings in the here and now. However, I submit to you that the magic of fiction is supreme. It reminds us we are essentially spiritual beings and as such our existence spans all of time, not just the here and now.

Fiction authors and storytellers across time have created and recreated their magic for us, removing our physical lenses and introducing us to spiritual truths. Such authors include greats like Dostoevsky, Homer, Shakespeare, Twain, Hemingway, and contemporary greats like Doige and Hildebrand.

These authors have mastered their craft to such a degree they can literally whisk us up and set us upon journeys that take us from the physical into the spiritual realm. The brilliance of each journey depends on the reader’s willingness to open themselves to it, so they might travel with this same author again and again.

As writers and creatives, we receive unexpected and divine callings. These callings are telling us we must share with others our knowledge of the universal truths binding the physical and spiritual worlds together.

This is a crucial undertaking, a divine obligation, a gift given to the artist. Being called to share the universe’s wisdom with those in need of receiving it is a blessing. We must not selfishly withhold the ideas and messages given to us by the Muse, but rather share these insights with the world.

Is not the Muse a provider of spiritual gifts? Ideas, fleeting thoughts, and inspirations are granted to us, by it, from the spirit world, not from our conscious reality. The Muse lies at the heart of the fictional aspect of ourselves, an aspect that is as real as the nonfictional aspect.

We have abundant ideas, insights and notions available to share, as I expressed in my latest article on The Muse. Our challenge is finding the courage to capture the inspirations and clues, then invest the time and love to cultivate them. That is something we do not do enough of today.

Have the courage to harness your inspirations and step out into your greatness, regardless of whether you are ridiculed or scorned. For it is this quality which sets the great messages and messengers apart.

Have the courage to trust your gifts, both physical and spiritual. They are worth sharing with the world. Let the naysayers point and scorn if they want to. Share your beautiful message with the world regardless of them, and allow your creations to become your legacy.

If you’d like to jump on a quick 15 minute call to discuss your writing project and learn more about our programs click HERE to learn more.

What is The Muse?

Is it our creative inspiration, that energy fluttering amidst the ethers of our consciousness, awaiting our trust to bring it to light?

I think the Muse is a beautiful idea; a wondrous source of inspiration and intelligence.

Yet, when an artist expects the Muse to seek them it does not. When an artist, be they writer, painter, or other creative, demands the Muse to deliver it does not answer them.

Then there are those moments when the Muse sits near, patiently waiting for a creative conscious to grasp hold of a thought and write upon it. But some thoughts slip through the creative’s grasp, to be bounced along to the next willing creative conscious.

For just as the universe expands infinitely, so too does creative inspiration.

The Muse, too, is abundant throughout the universe.

There is no end to this source of creativity. Creative inspiration and the Muse are plentiful and always giving to the creative conscious open to receiving their gift.

The challenge is to put aside the busy work, those unnecessary worldly things, and make creativity our priority.

Make your writing a priority over all else!

Until this happens, until the book or novel becomes the author’s primary focus and intention, the book will remain unwritten.

***

This is a crucial time. A time for the writer, and the artist, to take heed and consciously demand control of the outcome of their inspirations.

The first step a writer must take to control their inspiration and the visiting Muse is to trust. Trust that the ideas and insights are yours. Trust that you have the grace and wisdom to write, to take your inclinations by the hand and carry them to their fullest potential.

Escaping the Overwhelm…

Being human and having emotions gives necessity to books, novels, and film. And because of our humanness, we want to feel emotion. And often any emotion will suffice. 

I am so grateful to be given this opportunity to share my love of writing with the world. Across the past few years, I’ve gotten immersed in the foreign world of business and publishing and forgot my true intent. I denied myself my lifeblood of writing and storytelling. 

I welcome 2022 with a new perspective and a firm intention to write daily for my own enjoyment. And I intend to share and develop my voice as I continue to conquer the worlds of business and publishing, alike. And with that, I am relaunching my novel, Morning Star, in February. 😍

Welcome to my author shares. Each week, I will be sharing nuggets of my writing and my research for my current project. And this month’s project continues to be detailed as to why I wrote Morning Star.

Being human and having emotions gives necessity to books, novels, and film. And because of our humanness, we want to feel emotion. And often any emotion will suffice. 

Now, I don’t mean sitting hours on end fixated by Netflix, because this doesn’t work our creative muscles the same way; story entices the imagination in no better way than by reading. 

Stories entertain and spark conversations, and most importantly they bring up emotions within us. 

Therefore, we go to the movies or buy a book because we want to feel; we want to be reminded that we are human and that we are alive.

In fact, this is why we read or watch anything. We want to feel! And often we don’t really care what we’re going to feel at the beginning. We simply recognize our humane need to feel…

I would like to give my readers something to ponder as you are writing your blogpost or emails or a scene in the next blockbuster. What emotion is your writing calling forth from your reader? Is in fear, love, confusion, haste, clarity or simply is it just curiosity?

Whatever your intent may be, it is crucial that your writing is stirring up an emotion from your reader. Otherwise, they will most likely move on to read another’s that does stir their emotions.

 Here’s the video of this advice presented in my first ever, live YouTube video… 🤠 https://youtu.be/3V3E_RBEtE0 Please join the channel and never miss my silly lives!

Mariah’s Dance

Mariah danced and twirled through the falling flakes. Her extra-large snow boots, handed down from her big brother, collected the moist powder pilling upon the street. Just as the snowflakes, she shone in her unique youthful beauty.

Her auburn locks bounced against her shoulders and ebony skin shone like frozen dew. The reflection in her eyes was as unique as each intricate laced crystal descending.

abstract blur bright christmas
Photo by Meve R. on Pexels.com

On Mariah danced while holding hands with school friends: close friends and one or two beaux through college and then finally her soul mate once the winds had gentled and the heavy white flakes swept down. They all had accompanied her in this snowflake crescendo.

The abrupt winds of life tasseled her hair and tore her skirts. The snowflakes continued to steadily fall, occasionally entangled in the treetops, to inevitable continue their descent as the sunshine kissed her once rosy cheeks leaving lines of laughter beside her almond eyes and smile as she twirled.

Pigtails and ponytails once peeked from beneath her woolen hats. Long flowing locks, the envy of the times, relented to shorter curls where snowflakes now could not be noticed amid the white in her hair as they rested along their descent.

And like the snowflake’s inevitable tumble, Mariah watched her babies and then her grandbabies grow and dance amid the falling snow.

Mariah’s Dance

A little story about the beautifully inevitable passage of time.

 

Mariah danced and twirled through the falling flakes. Her extra large snow boots, handed down from her big brother, collected the moist powder piling upon the street. Just as the snowflakes, she shone in her unique youthful beauty.

Her auburn locks bounced against her shoulders and ebony skin shone like frozen dew. The reflection in her eyes was as unique as each intricate laced crystal descending.

On Mariah danced while holding hands with school friends: close friends and one or two beaux through college and then finally her soul mate once the winds had gentled and the heavy white flakes swept down. They all had accompanied her in this snowflake crescendo.

The Abrupt winds of life tasseled her hair and tore her skirts. The snowflakes continued to steadily fall, occasionally entangled in the treetops, to inevitable continue their descent as the sunshine kissed her once rosy cheeks leaving lines of laughter beside her almond eyes and smile as she twirled.

Pigtails and ponytails once peeked from beneath her woolen hats. Long flowing locks, the envy of the times, relented to shorter curls where snowflakes now could not be noticed amid the white in her hair as they rested along their descent.

And like the snowflake’s inevitable tumble, Mariah watched her babies and then her grandbabies grow and dance amid the falling snow.

-Ondi Laure