Plot Development and Plot Event? What exactly are they? A Craft of Creative Writing

There are masters of plotting who create plot and story with incredible ease.

That's the mystique; what newer writers seem to believe about established writers. 

But that simply isn't true. What successful writers do to 'make' their stories 'zing' is a lot of hard work, done long before a final draft every shows its fact to the reading pubic. 

Plot events, and plot developments rule the roost when getting your story from its beginning to its conclusion. Likewise, they are the easiest way to create a journey through a story idea that will successfully turn it into a story, whether that's a novel, or a short story.

A plot event is an incident that touches the lives (directly, indirectly, for good or ill) of the main characters without altering the trajectory or outcome of the plot itself.  Events are useful for  temporarily raising tension, developing characterisation, perspective, relationships, and ‘fill the middle slump’, helping to interest the reader and get them turning the page at all stages of the story. But events never alter the outcome of the story. 

For instance, in A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens, the lovely Christmas Day scene at Bob Cratchit's house is an event. It enriches the story, and explains his life and family, but it doesn't alter the outcome of the story. 

A plot development is an incident or happening that not only touches the lives of the main characters, but also alters the plot trajectory or outcome. It might be either a cause or an effect. 

(A plot development is sometimes called ‘a plot point’ or ‘a story beat’. They’re basically the same things. )

For instance, the arrival Marley's ghost at Scrooge's beside is a plot development. In fact it's the first plot point of the story, after introducing Cratchit and Scrooge at their place of work. This moment changes Scrooge's life forever. 

Although both types of incident can crank up emotional energy, pace and atmosphere and create a gripping read, only plot developments lead on to new causes and effects and ensure that your story contains what makes stories enjoyable to read: action and event, change, wonder and surprise. Subsequently, the right developments will lead to a deeply satisfying conclusion, whether in a short story or a novel. 

However, ‘events’ can turn into ‘developments’, sometimes simply because the writers has  deliberately plotted  a development to look like an event, which then ‘grows like Topsy’ as the story moves on. Sometimes, serendipitously, as ideas develop, around the plot, moments that seemed like an event when first created, will become a development. 

An interesting and useful thing to do is build a chart in which  all Developments are noted separately in chronological. Sometimes this can be revealing or even inspiring! 

 

Here are three tips to successfully navigating your own 

Plot Development Chart:

• Start a chart at any stage of your writing process
•  If you’re just beginning your story, it will help you see where to start and where to spin off ideas to move your piece forward. 
• As you map your ideas, you’ll discover that they help to propagate more ideas. 
• If you’re stuck at a particular point in your story, you may want to update or create a new map so it reflects—or creates—fresh ideas and story structure. 
• If you’ve already outlined or written most of your story, a story map may point out where your structure is weak or not fully developed by what you can’t fill in, or by what you’re struggling to answer. Steadily go through the chapters from the beginning and note where the developments are.
• You can also include plot events, but it's better to start with developments to keep your thinking clear (see below).
• Don’t get anxious about the process. 
• Write what you know—and put it where you think it belongs. You can always change it once you have a clearer understanding of what you're writing about.
  
  
  
• You’re simply placing story developments on a chart in the order you think they will happen. 
• You can mix things around or change ideas as you go.
• Everything you write can be considered to be ‘written in sand, not stone’ until you develop a stronger idea. 
• Sometimes what you think is the beginning hook may change to be the climax or a conflict once you better understand your story. 
• Use SHOW, DON’T TELL
• steadily go through the chapters from the beginning and create
• Try to capture ideas about development that SHOW, rather than TELL. Use phrases that show the story, and will mean something to you when you read the chart back.
• Try asking ‘what if’ as you create this chart, and think of this as a road map that  helps you plot your ‘story travel plans’.

Creating a Plot Development Chart can serve as a visual outline that helps you see the direction your story is taking and whether you’ve overlooked any major points of interest along the way while you're writing plot structure. 

Once you have the broad outline of developments, you can slide the 'plot events' into the mix. Maybe you'll need to start a new chart for this as things can get complicated. 

Do have a go; either at enriching the story you're writing now, or by starting a new story you might be thinking about, by using the chart. 

Let me know at Kitchen Table Writers by leaving a comment in the comment area 

Enjoy!

The Truth about Non-fiction

 

Is this the truthiness?

Truthiness – word of the year in the Merriam-Webster for 2005, even though it was coined on Stephen Colbert's US TV comedy satire show, to demonstrate how people deceive themselves, despite the evidence or any logic that disputes their belief. Truthiness can range from ignorant assertions of falsehoods to propaganda intended to sway opinions. The invented word was supposed to be 'funny for give minutes', but it has emerged as a major subject for discussion in US politics. 

The truth in journalism is set in stone: it’s not a malleable or debatable concept. This was a lesson the infamous journalist Steven Glass learnt. In Shattered Glass,  a 2003 biographical drama film, the writer Billy Ray told the true story of Glass, who was fired by the The New Republic magazine after inventing most of the 'facts' in his articles.  Some of his articles were funny, if untrue, such as the 'convention of Monica Lewinsky',  but some  articles were racist and  sexist lies. His fabrications nearly destroyed the reputable magazine, founded  a hundred years before.

But there is a difference between hard journalism – that is articles trusted to be as much the truth as the writer can possibly know and pass on –  and creative kinds of non-fiction writing, such as memoir, creative journalism, narrative literature and possibly even bio-fiction. These are genres that are increasing in popularity, and while these may not always relate the exact facts of a previous event, they hope to create a truth with their creativity, rather than 'truthiness'.

Some writers have trouble with the idea that  “creative writing” and “non-fiction” go together. A start, perhaps is to think of your writing as “told well” rather than “made up.” It's still confusing though, and leads us into a deeper consideration of what we mean by 'writing truthfully'. Bio-fIction has been slated in the past as misrepresenting what really happened. But that is not what the creative writer wants, or aims for. They are not attempting to hide behind 'truthiness', but rather create something that will enter the reader's heart. 

Creative non-fiction writing is able to tell both the small story – the damming of a river, the building of a house, an untimely death – and the bigger one, the human narrative with its enduring themes. In doing this, imaginative non-fiction writers commonly use the techniques of fiction – the creation of a narrative arc, character development, scene-setting, action sequences, dialogue and interior monologue. True stories told using these techniques have both the drama of fiction and the force of fact. Creative non-fiction, though factual, can read like fiction in that it draws you in with attention to detail, clear imagery, metaphors, and other creative writing techniques. 

In Wolfe Hall, and indeed her three books on Cromwell, Hilary Mantel attempts, not to move away to the truth, but to illuminate it. In her Reith Lecture she said: From history, I know what they do, but I can’t with any certainty know what they think and feel. That fictional approach allowed her to dig into her character's minds and create a fully realised person, who has, in a strange way, particularly through the TV dramas taken from the books, become the 'real Cromwell'.

One of the approaches the non-fiction writer takes is to know that what they are doing will convey the truth. To convey a truth may mean writing something that actually didn't happen in quite that way, or quite that order. It may mean looking at what people might have thought, or how their motives might have moved their intentions. 

The line between life writing and fiction is often blurred: even when writing autobiographical material the writer cannot clearly remember absolutely everything. And, to make the events of the past more clear, and indeed, more readable, my massage time, and description,  and dialogue, and interior monologue to aid the telling of a truth. 

Finding your comfort zone within this fusion of fact and imagination may take a little time, and a little thought. But try not to worry whether your life writing will be

strictly non-fiction or veer over into  bio-fiction. A rule of thumb is to be more focused on the creativity of your work than what category it falls into.

Penelope Lively’s distinctive memoir, Making it Up, addresses truth and imagination head-on by taking specific moments from her life and rewriting. In the chapter Imjin River, she writes about her husband, Jack Lively, in this speculative way:

    I might never have known him. We might never have met. There might never have been our children, and theirs, and the forty-one years of love and life and shared experiences, and those long hard months at the end. What follows supposes what so nearly happened; the fate of a young man who is a shadow of Jack for whom events ran differently.

The definitions of ‘fiction’ and ‘non-fiction’ are, therefore, subtle and flexible, and can be exploited to the writer’s benefit.

 Exercise: What Happens to Childhood Memories?

STAGE ONE

Think back to your childhood. Choose a memory – one that’s fuzzy, rather than one that’s crystal clear in your mind. Recount the incident on paper, just as you remember it. Talk to yourself as you write.... I can’t remember what they said now, but what I can recall is that at the time of listening...

Don’t worry at all about how creatively you write this for the moment – the key thing at this stage of this exercise is accuracy of memory.

Write between 200 and 800 words, then read through what you’ve written and change anything that you now remember more clearly. Take out anything that you feel isn't a true memory.

STAGE TWO

Now rewrite these bald facts as a very short story or extract from an unwritten fiction. Use freewriting. In other words, don’t spend hours working on plot and character. You already have sufficient for the purpose of this set of exercises.

Three useful tips:
• ‘Dip down’ into a specific scene.
• Concentrate on the scene, not the facts surrounding it 
• Let the facts just be your starting point. Have as much fun as you like in making things up. Twist the facts to suit yourself  or stick to them entirely if you wish

 Aim for up to 800 words. 

STAGE THREE

 Allow several days for the previous exercise to ‘settle’. 

When you’re ready to resume, re-read both the factual account and the ‘mini short story’ and think about how you would fuse the two to create a piece of imaginative non-fiction.

Consider using these elements from the factual account:
• the immediacy of the memories
• your thoughts on those memories as you jotted them down
• the surrounding facts – what you later discovered about the even, perhaps online, or through photographs

Consider using these elements of writing fiction:

Interior monologue • dialogue • scenes • detailed imagery • changes in the actual sequence.

This time, rather than write fiction, as before, create a new piece of imaginative non-fiction that will fill in the ‘fuzzy bits’ that you don’t actually recall from the event. These won’t necessarily be the absolute truth, but will have a sense of truthfulness. Write to any length you prefer.

Exercises like these can help you understand the difference between truth (and truthiness!) and creativity in writing non-fiction It can also help you continue to find your own distinctive writer’s voice.

Symbolism in Literature: The Rose

Roses are 'the queen of flowers', so it is not surprising that  they feature widely and richly in literature. Each colour of the rose means something special, and this is often highlighted in the pages of romantic fiction;

 Red - Love, Respect, Courage, Blood

 Yellow - Joy, Gladness, Freedom

 Pink/Peach - Gratitude, Appreciation, Admiration or Sympathy

 White - Reverence, Purity, Secrecy

 Black - Strength, Power, Danger, Death

 Two Roses - Engagement

 Red and White Roses Together - Unity

Roses can be found in literature everywhere and in all eras. It is in Greek myth that the association with both love and blood began. Adonis died in Aphrodite’s arms and the first red roses were said to spring up from his blood soaking into the earth. Even today, the idea of the rose as a gift on Valentine's Day clearly symbolises its powerful  association with love.

Roses can also symbolise mystery and magic. In The Golden Ass, the ancient Roman novel by Lucius Apuleius, the goddess Isis instructs the main character, who has been unluckily transformed into a donkey, to eat rose petals from a crown of roses worn by a priest to regain his humanity (it takes him the entire novel to succeed in this!). In Romeo and Juliet', Juliet wishes that Romeo was loved by her family as a person and not treated as an enemy. What’s in a name? That which we call a rose; By any other name, would smell as sweet.’ 

The Rose Garden by Susanna Kearsley explores the different stages of love and how they can change with time. The rose, a symbol of everlasting love, is the perfect flower for a story filled with romance and secrecy. 

Of course, the rose is everywhere in poetry. Who cannot quote Robert Burns:

O my Luve’s like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve’s like the melodie
That’s sweetly play’d in tune.

Or William Blake's ‘The Sick Rose’:

O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.

Perhaps less known is Emily Dickinson's poem:

Nobody knows this little Rose—
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.
Only a Bee will miss it—
Only a Butterfly,
Hastening from far journey—
On its breast to lie—
Only a Bird will wonder—
Only a Breeze will sigh—
Ah Little Rose—how easy
For such as thee to die!

A recent book covering the symbology of this wonderful flower is: Sacred Rose: The Soul’s Path to Beauty and Wisdom, by Mara Freeman. Filled with magnificent colour illustrations, Sacred Roseis a work of scholarship. Freeman’s careful research is combined with an attractive writing style that is never difficult to read. Throughout the book, we journey through historical fact, world literature, sacred religious texts, legend and myth to find roses at the very heart of humankind’s longing to experience the mysteries.

Mara Freeman

Freeman begins with the connection between roses and goddesses, especially Isis, Aphrodite and Venus. She then examines the relationship the medieval church had with the rose, especially though Mary, the Mother of Christ, who is often portrayed in a rose garden. She offers refreshing insights into the Rosary and the amazing rose windows in cathedrals across Christendom. Looking across the ancient world, Freeman compares the rose to the many-petaled lotus,  explores its hermetic connections, its honouring in the Arabic world, both Islamic and Zoroastrian, and the links with the Rosicrucians and the Tarot. Freeman uses poetry to illustrate this. From Danté’s ‘celestial rose’, to the 13th century Sufi poet, Rumi, to Yeats and Elliot, she demonstrates how the rose symbolises a portal leading us closer to the mysteries of life. 

The core  message of the book is how the reader can enter the ‘language of the rose’– how the Mystic Rose…also blooms within the individual soul. Freeman sets out methods of attaining this beauty and peace, including the use of rose essences and by creating a sacred space which would include the perfection of a plucked rose, and through meditations set out in the book. 

It’s not hard to love roses – they abound in my garden, making them a common theme. 

Using the symbolism of the rose can enhance the very aroma of  your writing. Using the powerful symbol of the rose can be likened to how a tight rose bud allows its many petals to spread open into a perfect sacred geometry. So use the rose symbol with care and attention; using it in an indifferent or offhanded way will cause its value to dissipate. The rose, although ubiquitous, is priceless, and its symbols are deep, compelling and affecting. 

How They Got Published – The Girl with the Louding Voice by Abi Daré

In this occasional series, "How They Got Published  – Stories of Writing Success", we look at how writers got their very first contract; the story of how that happened. Many writers are so very willing to share their advice with other hopeful writers. This week, I'm looking at the massive best-seller,  The Girl with the Louding Voice by Abi Daré

Like many writers, Abi Daré had been writing for over a decade before she decided to pursue an MA in Creative Writing. She had degrees in law (University of Wolverhampton) and project management (Glasgow Caledonia) but decided to add another degree to her CV because she longed to finish a “publishable” book and experiece a community of like minds that validated her as a writer. 

She wrote the first draft of The Girl With The Louding Voice in eight months during the MA course, and quickly entered it into the Bath Novel Awards for unpublished manuscripts. Having won the competition and secured an agent she began revising the book –– that took about three years. The novel was finally published after a bidding war in 2020 and soon gained critical acclaim.

The Girl With the Louding Voice is set in Nigeria, Daré’s home country, and focuses on 14-year-old Adunni as she is taken out of school by her poverty-stricken, widowed father and sold to become the third wife of a local man. When Adunni runs away to Lagos, dangers await her. She effectively becomes a slave to a wealthy family. But Adunni dreams of continuing her education and finding a voice to stand up for herself and girls like her.

One of the most resonant areas of the novel are the voices of other young, poor girls, and it was interesting see their various opinions of what is happening to them. Early on, we meet Enitan, Adunni’s best friend. Her approach to marriage is at odds with Adunni’s; she loves make up and hair-do’s, and is excited about this development in her friend’s life. Later, as Adunni moves into her husband’s compound, she meets Kiki, his daughter by his first wife, who is also 14 and about to be married. She is sanguine about this – men have everything, she explains to Adunni. They own everything. They have all the power. Kiki also wants to continue at school and become a dress designer and she plans to sweet talk her husband into paying up. If men have all the power, she argues, then the best thing for a girl is to grab a man. 

Just a few years older than Adunni is the second wife, who is pregnant. Her story is harrowing, and her demise cuts short Adunni’s life in the compound. She runs away in fear of her life, and finds herself in Lagos, working for Big Madam for no wage. Here, the investigation by Daré into the superstitions around pregnancy continue when we meet Ms Tia, a neighbour of Big Madam, who recognises the qualities and spirit in Adunni and helps her prepare to take a scholarship to a prestigious school. She has so far avoided getting pregnant, but begins to decide she would like to have a child with her husband. She agrees to undergo a shocking ritual to begin the process. 

As the story of all these women progress, Adunni also begins to investigate the mystery of the previous maid; Rebecca disappeared after being made pregnant by Big Madam’s wastrel husband. As Adunni wonders: “Why are the women in Nigeria seem to be suffering for everything more than the men?”

The twists and turns are held together with a clever control of language by Daré. The story is told in the first person by Adunni, who’s voice uses a country dialect. Meanwhile this is countered by the characters in Lagos, who speak very standard English. 

Daré talks about the development of this voice to Aramide Akintimehin, writing for the Assembly Website. ‘I started the first draft about a week before I was due to submit about 3,000 words to my dissertation supervisor. I wrote the first sentence in my character’s voice and did not stop writing until I had the required 3,000 words. When I went to see him a week later for his review and assessment, I was pleasantly surprised when he told me that he loved it… I felt that I needed to break [Adunni’s] English down and break myself down in the process to understand her, so that she could be understood by anyone else who’s reading it…I wanted it to be nonstandard English… 

Later in the book Adunni comes to the realisation that, just because the rich Lagos women speak better English than she does, they are not better people. Daré wanted to make this point strongly in the novel  – ‘it’s just a language. It’s not a measure of intelligence.’I wanted to explore the amount of talent and dreams and intelligence that we kill and waste when we don’t allow these girls to go to school, when we hire these young girls and get them to work. I wanted to show that this was a girl that needs to be up at 4 a.m. in the morning. She’s intelligent, and if she was given a chance, and other young girls in the world, they will shine and they will thrive.’ 

The inspiration for Abi Daré’s first book struck when one of her daughters, then 8, didn’t feel like unloading the dishwasher. Daré told her that there were girls her age in Nigeria who did housework for a living. This conversation gave Daré a new perspective on something that was common among middle-class families like the one in which she was raised: employing young girls as so-called housemaids.

Daré admitted that for years she wrote quietly, and had moments where she felt like giving up. Taking the MA in Creative Writing helped her gain the confidence to complete this debut novel, get it published and continue writing. She says; I just wanted to create a character that shows that a girl can be a fighter.… I wanted her to be a role model. So if you create a character and you want that character to be a role model, she has to be able to stand up for something. If you don’t stand up for something, you fall for everything. And so that’s why I wanted to create this character that young girls could look up to her, older women, even I looked up to Adunni when I was writing the book.

If you would like to read all the blogposts in this series, click here

STARTING TO WRITE; Get Close to your Narrator though Internal Monologue

Starting your first fiction? Getting close you your main character is a crucial part of writing any story, of any length. 

Readers want to connect with the protagonist. This doesn't mean they have to like them ––  rather, understand their motivation. And this doesn't mean sympathy ––rather, they need a certain element of empathy with them. They want to be able to see how things are in their shoes, to identify with some of their responses or situations. 

The first thing a writers considers in the point of view they are going to use to write about this main character. If you are not sure how to tackle this technique, do read these two blogpost before you carry on with this one –– about POINT OF VIEW and about the more tricky OMNISCIENT POV

But now, you have chosen the perfect point of view for your narrator's voice and you are seeing each scene – all the action and description – through that point of view. You are also going to 'see' inside your narrator, using that POV. You must allow the reader to see what the narrator is thinking, although it is up to you, the creator, to decide just how much of the narrator's thoughts they will be privy to. Without this look inside, narration is bland and emotionless. We read what is happening (action) what people are saying  (dialogue) and what things around the setting look like (description) but with 'seeing' inside the narrator's head,  none  of that will engage the reader properly.

Interior (or internal) monologue

Seeing into the narrator's head is called  interior (or internal) monologue. It is used to create engaging narration, as the  Masterclass website points out.  “Internal monologue…is a literary device that allows the reader to observe the inner thoughts of characters in a narrative.” When internal monologue is used, the scene is described through the perspective and voice of the character, making it emotional and personal. In the real world, we all have our own voice which comes out in the way we talk. This is seen specifically through the words and phrases we use and the things we talk about.  Each character should have a clear voice, just like real people, and this voice is both the one they will use in dialogue, and the one they will use in interior monologue  

A Little Exercise

Take a look at something you've already written in a narrator's voice. 

Are you missing out on seeing what that narrator is thinking? If so, the result won't help the reader get that connection they need. Take that piece you've just read and try to redraft it, so that the character is thinking, and the reader is seeing what they think.  Doing this help you read an intimate point of view which increases empathy and identity for the reader. Now see if you can blur the line between your description and r interior monologue, so that you move effortlessly from seeing the world through your character’s eyes to seeing the world (including action and description) through your character’s mind and back again, as my character, Sabbie Dare, does here; 

    'Your life is not at risk. I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I thought it was.'

  It was the ‘I’ that made me stop. I reconsidered Ivan’s comment about police arriving in pairs. Why was this man alone? 'I want to see your ID again.'

   He slid it over the coffee table. I wouldn’t know a fake police badge if it had ‘Counterfeit’ stamped over it, but I rested my hand on the plastic coat and closed my eyes, to see what drifted into my mind. I gained a sensation; a recognition of strength and self-possession.      Hidden underneath was a split-second flash of utter fatigue, the sort one associates with huge amounts of health-abuse. But that might be me, stereotyping the guy. Maybe he was a teetotaler. 

  'You’re smart, Sabbie,' said DS Buckley. 'I’m here on a bit of a hunch. The man we’re interviewing is a puzzle, and I’m hoping you’ll be able to solve it.'

                                                  In the Moors Llewellyn International, Midnight Ink 

Interior Monologue and POV

In The Art of Fiction.  John Gardner explains how the close third person (sometimes called 'limited' or 'subjective' 3rd Person POV) is essentially the same as the first person except that each ‘I’ is changed to ‘she’ or 'he' or 'they'. This is almost the truth, but not quite, and is part of the joy of choosing the right POV in the first place. I chose the write In the Moors  in the first person as I did want to drill right down into Sabbie's mind with not the tiniest bit of distance because she uses shamanic techniques, and I was sure she would convince the reader of her use of this technique the better is she spoke directly to them. But there is no doubt that Gardner can be right; think back to the last book you read in a close 3rd Person POV. Did the narrator fully engage? Did you identify, even empathise with them? In that case, the writer managed that clever trick of persuading you to believe in their character, even the they are writing about them, rather than being them.  That is…she closed her eyes, to see what drifted into her mind… .rather than....I closed my eyes, to see what drifted into my mind…

Direct and Indirect Interior Monologue

Direct interior monologue tells you the exact thoughts of the character, using exactly the words he is thinking. If, when reading fiction, you see a short burst of italics, you'll know the writer is using a direct interior monologue, although that is their choice, you don't have to do it. However, spotting these italics can really help you understand what is going on with this writer and emulate the technique yourself.  Whether this is in italics or not it should be perfectly clear that these are the verbatim words going through the POV character’s mind.

Indirect interior monologue tells the approximate thoughts of the character, without giving the exact words he’s thinking. So far as I know, nobody ever writes these using italics.

Most novelists use both direct and indirect interior monologue, mixing them well, because it just feels better when you do so.

Here's some indirect monologue from In The Moors:

    Maybe it was just my lack of breakfast, but I was glad of this reprieve. I needed to think everything through; Cliff’s story, Rey and Ivan, dreams and hens. But instead, I thought about Josh Sutton.

And here's some direct (in italics): 

    I wasn’t ready to consider Ivan anything more than a casual date. We were as different as a ladybird is from a greenfly. 

     So  long as I was the ladybird.

Another Little Exercise 

If you are not getting any, or sufficient interior monologue into your fiction, think about any if the following suggestions; 

• Focus on the POV character, ask yourself what are they thinking and feeling
• Now decide if sharing this with your reader will increase connectivity, without spoiling any secrets you want to keep
• Try sharing thoughts on the page
• Read through your writing. Use a highlighter to highlight the Narrative Action, Dialogue and Description.  If you can see any Interior Monologue, highlight that in a  different colour. Action and Dialogue should show what characters are doing or saying. The Interior Monologue  should show what the POV character is thinking or feeling.
• It should also describe, so that we see Description through their eyes. That makes description far more effective. 

Head-Hopping and Moving POV

Stories do not have to stay in one point of view. Sensible authors, though do stick with one narrator 

throughout an entire scene, even

better, chapter. One of the great exponents of this is George R R Martin, who's "Game of Thrones" series is written chapter by chapter, character by character, building up a tremendous empathy with almost all the Stark family, with Tyrion Lannister, and with Daenerys Targaryen in particular. These are the characters who are likely to build up the most empty and connection with the reader and we see almost all the other characters via their interior thoughts on them.

However, moving POV is not the same as head-hopping. If your readers are having to bounce from one character’s head to another in the same scene, you will fail them.  After all, you want to give your reader a powerful experience, and you'll do that best by putting your reader inside the skin of one character at a time. The reader sees only what that character sees. Hears what she hears. Smells what she smells. Feels what she feels. Your reader becomes that character for the scene. If you want to get into another character's head you wait for a new scene, or chapter, that way they are never confused. Head-hopping is often accidental for newer writers, Look what has happened to In the Moors when I head-hop:

'Your life is not at risk,' said DS Buckley, hoping what he was saying was true. 'I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I thought it was.'

    It was the ‘I’ that made me stop. I reconsidered Ivan’s comment about police arriving in pairs. Why was this man alone? 'I want to see your ID again.'  

     He slid it over the coffee table, the feel of the plastic cold on his fingers. I wouldn’t know a fake police badge if it had ‘Counterfeit’ stamped over it, but I rested my hand on the plastic coat and closed my eyes, to see what drifted into my mind. I gained a sensation; a recognition of strength and self-possession. Hidden underneath was a split-second flash of utter fatigue, the sort one associates with huge amounts of health-abuse. But that might be me, stereotyping the guy.            'You’re smart, Sabbie.'  Buckley meant it – he was attracted to this girl. 'I’m here on a bit of a hunch. The man we’re interviewing is a puzzle, and I’m hoping you’ll be able to solve it.'

Nonfiction

Interior monologue  can be used in nonfiction as well, but if you are writing something factual (your autobiography, or your travels, for instance) you must make sure that internal thoughts can be backed up by facts. Although, when writing biographical fiction, it is fine to get into a real character's head and suppose, or imagine, or deduce that's what he or she would be thinking. 

Tom Wolfe explains that in his book The Right Stuff, his style was developed to grab the readers' attention, to absorb them. ... He wanted to get into the heads of his characters, even if this was nonfiction. And so, at an astronauts' press conference, he quotes a reporter's question on who was confident about coming back from space. He describes the astronauts looking at one another and hoisting their hands in the air. Then, he's into their heads:

      It really made you feel like an idiot, raising your hand this way. If you didn't think you were 'coming back,' then you would really have to be a fool or a nut to have volunteered at all. ...

We will return to the subject of getting in the (right!) character's head in the next STARTING TO WRITE blogpost, when I look at psychic distance.