Most comic books and graphic novels letter the body text (dialogue and narration) in all-caps. Here are some of the best all-caps free fonts. If you’d like to download any of the fonts, please see the links below.
Vampires Suck is startlingly bad. How could try something so easy–finding something hilariously awful about Twilight–and fail so badly? It’s like going to Alaska and failing to find snow. If you’re in the mood for a good Twilight parody, I recommend this fake screenplay. Here’s an excerpt:
BELLA: It’s tough being the new kid in school! Especially when everyone is so friendly and helpful and interested in me. Why can’t they just leave me alone so I can sit in the corner and cut myself?
CLASSMATE: You’re awesome, Bella!
BELLA: See what I have to put up with? Hey — who are those hot people over there?
CLASSMATE: Those are the Cullens. They avoid direct sunlight, they don’t eat food, they sleep in coffins in a graveyard, and holy water burns them. I think they’re Canadians.*
BELLA: They sure are spectacularly gorgeous.
CLASSMATE: Yes, they are.
BELLA: I mean seriously, those people are BEAUTIFUL. Especially the one who keeps looking at me. Man alive, that guy is stunning. I mean, wow. He is hot buttered seduction on a stick. I’m not interested in him sexually, of course, because sex is dirty, but wow — LOOK AT HIM! Yee-ikes! Hubba hubba! If you don’t mind, I’d like to spend the next 75 pages talking exclusively about how attractive he is, and then bring it up again every paragraph or so for the remaining 400 pages.
CLASSMATE: Knock yourself out.
1. Proofread everything you send out for a publishing job ridiculously hard. Almost every publishing job requires immaculate writing skills, and professionals don’t have enough time to exhaustively proofread everything written by interns. So you need to demonstrate that you write well enough to impress a publisher that lives or dies based on the quality of its writing. (Pretty much every company takes its writing seriously, but especially publishers).
2. Make it clear that you can reliably complete tasks without constant oversight. For example, use your cover letter and/or resume to describe a significant professional project you completed to your supervisor’s specifications without much prompting or direct supervision. An intern that can’t remember to complete responsibilities without constant reminders is probably a net liability.
3. Self-starters are always more desirable. Since every internship has downtime, companies value interns that will use the downtime productively. For example, a proactive intern might ask co-workers if they need any help with projects and/or errands or try learning new job skills, etc. (I learned search engine optimization by borrowing reference manuals from our SEO guru).
This is mainly aimed at high school and college English courses, but you might find this advice helpful in other subjects as well.
1. The first paragraph should introduce what you will be arguing and what sort of evidence you’ll be using to back up your assertion. In an English class, you’re not talking about every aspect of a book, so identify your focus. Do NOT merely provide a fact (“The Great Gatsby is a 20th century American novel set in West Egg, New York”). Focus on what you’ll need to make your argument. For example, “West Egg symbolizes the American dream” and then talk about what happens there and how that demonstrates what the author is suggesting about Gatsby’s attempts to break into the upper class.
2. Summarizing the book is usually besides the point. The teacher has already read the book, so the summary probably isn’t necessary. Do talk about plot events that advance your argument, though.
Watching superheroes beat up villains may not be the best image for boys to see if society wants to promote kinder, less stereotypical male behaviors, according to psychologists…
“There is a big difference in the movie superhero of today and the comic book superhero of yesterday,” said psychologist Sharon Lamb, PhD, distinguished professor of mental health at University of Massachusetts-Boston. “Today’s superhero is too much like an action hero who participates in non-stop violence; he’s aggressive, sarcastic and rarely speaks to the virtue of doing good for humanity. When not in superhero costume, these men, like Ironman, exploit women, flaunt bling and convey their manhood with high-powered guns.”
The comic book heroes of the past did fight criminals, she said, “but these were heroes boys could look up to and learn from because outside of their costumes, they were real people with real problems and many vulnerabilities,” she said.
My initial impression is that this is so luridly off-base I don’t know where to begin.
2. Revenge. This might be heroic if the crime is particularly heinous and/or the regular authorities are not willing or able to resolve the situation. It might be villainous if the character is overreacting or not being careful enough about hitting only the people responsible. When working with revenge plots, I think it’s usually more interesting if the revenge develops into something more than just killing/stopping people A, B and C. For example, in Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World, the villain is getting back at the love interest that rejected him, which introduces relationship issues that present their own challenges to a protagonist trying to get over a long-dead relationship of his own.
3. To distinguish oneself. It depends on why the character wants to distinguish himself. A hero whose main goal is fame/status will probably gain a more substantial goal over the course of the story. (For example, Booster Gold). I think it’s seen as a superficial, temporary goal. In contrast, “be true to yourself” is more purely heroic… Unless being true to yourself involves psychically decapitating people and sucking out their brains.
4. To fit in/gain acceptance. A lot of heroes seek to gain the respect of their peers (see any story about “the new guy,” particularly students). However, gaining acceptance might be more sinister based on who the protagonist wants to impress and/or what will impress them. For example, 1984 ends with Winston Smith rather unhappily gaining acceptance by betraying his innocent girlfriend: ”…he had won the victory over himself. He loved Big Brother.”
5. Justice. This is like revenge, but usually less lethal and targeted more carefully against the perpetrators. Nonetheless, justice can sometimes be villainous. For example, the main goal of the robot antagonists in the I, Robot movie is to prevent humans from getting hurt, and they think that putting human under house arrest is the most logical way to do so.
1. What do I need to do to copyright my work?
Nothing, if you’re an American, Australian, Brazilian, British, Canadian or Irish author. Your work is automatically protected by copyright as soon as you write it. You don’t need to register your work or do anything else to copyright it.
However, if you wish to sue somebody for copyright infringement, you’ll probably need to pay a small fee to register your copyright with your national copyright office first ($35 in the United States). I’d recommend leaving that to your publisher, because suing somebody is almost always impractical before you get published. There are more cost-effective ways of defending your work and/or dealing with plagiarism than spending thousands of dollars on a lawyer.
Scott Pilgrim’s rating on Rotten Tomatoes is 80%. It was so neck-deep in every sort of geeky awesomeness that it totally made sense when the hero used a 1-Up as a “get out of death free” card. The highlight of the movie was definitely the superpowered kung fu. The romantic comedy was reasonably effective, better than suggested in the trailer. The first 33 seconds of the trailer are forgettable, but the movie is substantially better, particularly if you’re into people getting drop-kicked in the face by vegan supervillains.
1. Don’t begin with a long description of the setting or background information. Do begin with dialogue and action. Agreed. However, explain enough so that we know what’s going on. I put down a book on page 2 yesterday because it spent all that time beautifully describing the weather and a man jumping out of a helicopter without explaining anything about why the guy came out of the helicopter. At first, it wasn’t even clear whether the person fell out accidentally or jumped.
2. Don’t start with a character other than your protagonist. You may wish to consider starting with the antagonist, but generally I agree with this. If your side-characters are the most effective hook to your story, you’re writing the wrong story!
3. Don’t start with a description of past events. DO jump right in with what the main character is involved in right now, and introduce some tension or conflict as soon as possible. In some cases, the inciting event of the book may have happened before the book starts. I don’t think that’s necessarily a problem. For example, a novel might start with a superhero or homicide detective investigating a crime that has already happened. As long as you keep the focus on what is happening now (the investigation, for example), covering an event that already happened shouldn’t bog down your plot.
4. Don’t start in a viewpoint other than the main character’s. Agreed! I’d reject pretty much anything that starts with a side-character that shows up once and then disappears. (Switching between main characters is okay, but a one-and-done narrator is NOT. Don’t waste our time on a character that isn’t central to the plot).
When you write a proposal/query (or anything else written purely for editors) for your superhero story, you’ll probably write a bit about the main characters’ superpowers. (1-2 sentences, please). I highly recommend against looking up a Latin or Greek prefix to name a superpower. If you had to look up the prefix, chances are the editor doesn’t know it, either.
PLEASE REWRITE: “John is a somnikinetic.”
BETTER: “John can manipulate dreams” or “John can control dreams.”
Descriptions with simple English terms are usually more effective than Greek/Latin names because:
English words are easier to understand and remember.
Most editors haven’t memorized lists of Greek or Latin prefixes/suffixes.
Editors should not have to open a dictionary or do a Google search to understand what you’ve written. You’ve got two minutes. Don’t waste them.
Names based on prefixes can be easily confused with similar prefixes. For example, a reader might confuse somni- (dreams) with somn- (sleep) or son- (sound).
It may not be clear how you expect us to translate the word. For example, I’ve seen “kinesis” used as a suffix for “control,” “influence,” “manipulation,” “generation,” as well as its standard meaning, “movement” (for example, telekinesis means “remote movement”). Will we know which definition you’re going for?
Depending on the case, it could be pretentious.
Depending on the story and character, using prefixes and other jargon in-story may help to make the superpower sound more scientific/realistic. But that probably isn’t necessary in the query/submission letter or synopsis. For one thing, the query/submission letter are an introduction aimed at editors that have absolutely no context for your story. In contrast, by the time your story uses terms like “terrakinetic” or “ocular death-rays,” we’ve probably already seen the character’s powers in action.
Synopsis: Captain Freedom was rough around the edges, but it was clever and funny. The plot was pretty much an incoherent wreck. If you liked Soon I Will Be Invincible, I highly recommend Captain Freedom, which put more thought into character-development and world-building.
According to the New York Times, one author got an extraordinarily fast response from agents after starting a blog. “Within two posts on her blog, which now attracts 30,000 visitors a month, Ms. Dolgoff said, five agents got in touch, and a book idea was born.” I find that hard to believe. Interesting even one unsolicited agent is extraordinarily hard. Five? With two posts? Unless I’m missing something, that sounds wildly implausible. For example, author Theodore Beale receives ~200,000 readers per month and has never had an agent solicitation.
I think the NYT should have dug harder here. For example…
Who are these agents?
Why were none of them interviewed in the article? If they’re real, their perspective on this apparent success story would be pretty interesting.
What impressed them about the first two blog posts enough to contact her?
Did the agents know her before she started blogging?
Did the agents find the website themselves? If not, who pointed them to it?
I have not been able to find any indication that there was a publishers’ auction over her book, nor does the article mention an auction. If there were five agents potentially interested in representing her after two blog posts, don’t you think it’s a bit strange that the book wouldn’t go to auction? (Note: I’m assuming “five agents got in touch” means that there were five agents interested in representing her, although an agent could contact an author just to offer friendly advice or chat).
Here are some queries that brought Google users to Superhero Nation this week.
How do I find out if my superhero story has already been told?Keep reading superhero stories, particularly in your medium (novels, comic books/graphic novels, etc). Authors that have only read one or two series tend to write original work that reads like fan-fiction for those series.
Unused superhero names? When you use a name you found on the Internet, there really isn’t any guarantee it hasn’t been used. If it’s good enough, someone will use it. The closest thing you have to a guarantee of originality is doing it yourself. The second-closest is asking a friend to brainstorm ideas without posting them online.
How do I sell a comic I wrote? I assume you’re trying to get professionally published, rather than self-published. Check out Nine Surprising Facts about Writing Comic Books. Also, when you submit to a publisher, you’ll probably include a page-long submission letter introducing your work and why they should publish it. When it comes time to write that, I’d recommend reading as many of the articles in the Query Letter category as possible. How to Communicate with Editors is a good place to start.
Blambot has an awesome article about formatting comic book balloons. It’s aimed at comic book letterers, but I think there are some key points also useful for comic book writers doing a script. For example, do you know how to handle translated dialogue or when to use quotation marks?
Only use quotation marks when somebody is speaking off-panel. If the speaker is on-panel, readers don’t need quotation marks to know it’s dialogue.
If you ever end a shouted question with a question mark and an exclamation point, put the question mark first. Readers will have many context clues that the line is being shouted, such as body language and the bolded/italicized text, but the question mark is pretty much the only indication that a question is involved.
Each period should be followed by one space, not two. Double spaces take too much space and look awkward. (If you habitually use double-spaces, it may help to use your text processor’s Find/Replace feature to replace all periods followed by two spaces with periods followed by single spaces).
How to handle text translated from a language besides English. See below. Note: Generally, the “*Translated from [Language]” caption is necessary just once per scene. After that, readers can figure out what language the characters are speaking when you use the <greater than/less than signs>.
Robert Mason is collecting plot ideas in a publically available Idea Bank. Here’s my contribution: The hero has to stop a plan set in motion by a villain that has already died. How will a flying brick save the day if it’s not clear who needs to be smashed? What good will a psychic be if the main “henchmen” are actually innocent delivery boys that have no idea what they’re delivering? How can somebody like Jack Bauer stop a villainous plot if there’s nobody left to torture?
Publishers and literary agents reject quite a few manuscripts on page 1. However, if the query letter is bad, the editor will probably reject you without even looking at page 1. Here are some common problems and how to avoid them.
1. “This is just like Harry Potter meets Dirty Harry.” Comparing your work to another will probably make your work sound like an uninspired ripoff. Also, you can’t assume that the editor likes Harry Potter, or Twilight, or Spiderman, or whatever else you might think is the most awesome work ever. Instead of trying to hitch a ride on somebody else’s bandwagon, talk about your work. If editors think “this will totally work with Harry Potter fans,” great, but let them make that determination on their own.
2. The description of the plot/characters lacked details. “Gary must work with his partner to stop the villain and save the day.” What are Gary and the partner like? What’s the villain like? What’s the villain’s goal? Why should we care if they stop him? A more detailed description is usually more interesting. If I had to describe The Taxman Must Die in a single sentence, I’d prefer something like “Two unlikely Homeland Security super-agents, an accountant and a fun-loving mutant alligator, must band together to prevent a deranged cosmeticist from destroying humanity.” See more details on how to write an interesting and exciting pitch for your story here.
2.1 You forgot to mention the main goal(s) of the characters and major obstacles. That’s sort of the point of the book! Don’t miss it.
3. You addressed the letter “To Whom It May Concern,” “Dear Editor” or “Dear Agent.” If at all possible, get a name–it’s more personal. Most literary agencies have bios and specialties listed for each agent online, so address it to an agent that specializes in your genre(s). If you’re submitting to a publisher, try using Google and addressing it to an editor that handles submissions. Even though your manuscript may well be evaluated by somebody else, that will show that you have put some thought into this company specifically. If the publisher has made no information available, then I think Dear Editor is the least awful alternative. (I would recommend against calling the publisher and asking for the name of somebody to address it to–I think that’s generally seen as a breach of etiquette).
What if the villain isn’t supposed to obviously be the villain the first time he shows up?
1. Give the villain an innocuous explanation for the villainous/unseemly behavior we see, especially early on. If I offered you $50 for something valuable, it might not be that I’m trying to rip you off: Maybe I don’t know what it’s actually worth or am too desperate to offer you the going rate. Or let’s say that criminals are threatening to brutally murder a captured character. A hero that calls for an immediate attack might be genuinely convinced that’s the best way to rescue the hostage. Or maybe he’s actually hoping the hostage will get killed in the crossfire. (Maybe the hostage knows too much or otherwise poses some sort of problem–that might explain why he was captured in the first place).
2. The circumstances surrounding the objectionable behaviors are ambiguous and/or encourage us to sympathize or relate with him. For example, let’s say that the readers know (or have some reason to suspect) that your Ozymandias just killed the Comedian. You could present it as a public service and/or retribution for something unseemly the victim was involved in (such as murdering a pregnant woman). We don’t need to know right away that the villain actually killed the victim to cover his tracks or for any other nefarious reason. If you’re trying to keep it a secret that the character is a villain (and not just an unsavory side-character) but the readers can predict it anyway, you probably haven’t given him enough extenuating circumstances.
3. The eventual villain’s nonheroic traits might actually make him seem more valuable as a protagonist. For example, if you have a group of heroes that actually includes the eventual villain, the heroes might respect the eventual villain as a Batman (a mostly sensible but occasionally brutal problem-solver). Maybe his rough style makes him more competent. Maybe the protagonists are generally gullible and naïve, but he is suspicious and cunning.
4. The heroes are also morally gray. If all of the other heroes are 100% protagonistic, the one that isn’t will stand out in a bad way. If your goal is to keep the villain’s identity something of a secret, that’s probably counterproductive.
5. You have a more obvious antagonist as a red herring. If readers think they know who the main villain is, they won’t think as hard about undercover villains. For example, in the Watchmen, the Soviet Union probably served as a red herring because it had a plausible reason to kill the Comedian (something of a CIA operative) and it played a prominent role as part of the nuclear standoff.
When I typed “superhero” in the Kindle searcher, there were a LOT of books masquerading as superhero fiction. Publishing pro tip: if you’re republishing a book like Aesop’s Fables, The Divine Comedy, The Arabian Nights, Tarzan, Best Russian Short Stories, or Hannibal the Conqueror*, I would highly recommend against selling such books as something they’re not. Mismarketed sales are far more likely to result in disgruntled customers and awful reviews.
New writers have a tendency to focus so much on their character development that they forget that the right setting can be just as important. Setting provides a picture for a reader, without which your characters are flying through nothingness. Action and drama mean very little without interaction between the characters and their environment so, […]
When mapping out any kind of superheroic narrative, a consideration has to be made that is not often an aspect of other types of stories, and by that I mean you have to determine power level, or maybe we should say Power Level, since so many superheroic concepts work better with capitals. This is […]