“Unlock Your Novel’s Plot” Two-Hour Intensive Returns

Learn the fundamentals of character and plot structure, and lay the groundwork for a complete and satisfying novel.

Weds., Oct. 23, 2024
Online: 7:30pm-9:30pm, EST
$75

You have an idea for a novel, but you don’t know where to start—or maybe you’ve started writing and stalled out, or completed a draft but don’t know how to revise. What drives a great work of fiction? How do you create a story strong enough to sustain a novel? And how do you write 70, 80, or 90,000 words?

This two-hour intensive class tackles the fundamentals of character and conflict; the elements of a satisfying narrative arc; and practical strategies for completing that first draft and beginning your second. Our time together will include presentations, guided writing, and discussion. In the end, you’ll leave with fresh ideas and concrete plans for your novel, as well as three worksheets to apply to this and future writing projects.

Enroll via the Writing Co-Lab.

Questions? Email me at sbf at stephaniefeldman.com.

New Story! “Bachelorettes on the Devil’s Dance Floor”

I’m thrilled that my newest story, “Bachelorettes on the Devil’s Dance Floor,” has entered the world between the pages of the September/October 2024 issue of Asimov’s Science Fiction. Jealous sisters, resentful besties, and reckless brides–and, of course, the devil (or is he?)–all in time for Halloween.

Read an excerpt and purchase at Asimov’s.

“The building has a rough stone façade, narrow smoke-gray windows, and brightly painted signs in several languages. The bachelorettes line up behind a crush of Asian tourists, each wearing a red lanyard.

“That bar has a shorter line,” Elle says, gesturing across the square. She’d like to get drunk as quickly as possible.

“But this bar’s authentic!” Bea argues. She wants them to remember, later—Bea planned the best trip, Bea found the best bar. She’s nearly forgotten that their attendance is an accident. A mistake, even.

“It’s for tourists,” a man says. It’s the man in the dark coat, the man with the dark eyes. 

His English is just barely molded by German. He smiles at Angie again, and this time she smiles back. “It’s not fit for a bride,” he says. “Wouldn’t you like to see the real Walpurgisnacht?”

Angie plays with the hem of her veil. She knows the plastic tiara and the sash printed “bride” in gold make her alluring—ripe but forbidden. She’s like a true spring maiden under the maypole. She plans to enjoy it.

“Yes,” Angie says.”