This isn’t about romance alone (though it often is). It’s about belonging. About safety. About seeing and being seen. When a character finds that safe space in someone else, we as readers feel it. We crave it. And we remember it. Let’s explore how to write characters who find home—not in a house or city—but in another soul.

As a writer, your goal is to not just tell a story—but to deliver moments so emotionally potent, so immersive, that readers can’t help but go back. They reread not just because it was beautifully written, but because it touched something true inside them. These scenes aren’t about showing off your skill with words—they’re about tapping into the core of human experience and creating a shared emotional space between your characters and your readers.

Today’s post is a deep dive into not just understanding character motivation, but mastering it. Whether you're a novelist, screenwriter, comic creator, or storyteller of any kind—this is the heartbeat of your story.

Whether you’re building a new world, introducing a complex backstory, or creating high-stakes conflict, the temptation to explain everything right away is real. But dumping too much information too quickly can kill your story’s momentum, overwhelm your reader, and break immersion. Today’s Tony Tips Tuesdays™ is all about avoiding info dumps—and instead, mastering the art of showing, sprinkling, and layering information throughout your story.

A strong female character is not strong because she’s emotionless or flawless or invincible. She’s strong because she’s real. Because she has agency. Because she struggles, grows, leads, fails, and fights to define herself in a world that often wants to do it for her.

Great storytelling is like great music—it’s all about rhythm, balance, and harmony. In fiction, the balance between dialogue and action is one of the most critical aspects of your pacing, character development, and reader engagement. Too much dialogue, and the story can feel like a script with talking heads. Too much action, and readers may struggle to emotionally connect or understand motivation. So how do you strike that perfect balance? Let’s break it down.

There’s something powerful about a story that makes you cry, cheer, shiver, or smile days after you’ve read the final sentence. It’s not just the plot or the dialogue—it’s the emotion woven through every word. Emotion is the soul of storytelling. It’s what turns a good book into a life-changing experience.

📌 Tony Tip: Writer’s block is not a permanent condition. It’s a moment to pause, pivot, and push through.

Today on Tony Tips Tuesdays™, I want to talk about something near and dear to every writer’s heart: the art of crafting unforgettable characters. Whether you’re building brave superheroes like Kevin Edwards and Juanita Grayson in my novel series S.O.L.A.D.™, a small-town journalist navigating love, or a multi-dimensional villain whose actions send ripples through the story, character is everything. Plot drives the engine, sure—but your characters are the gas, the spark, an

Let’s get one thing straight: writing doesn’t happen in Hollywood montages. It happens in the quiet. In the ordinary. At kitchen tables and carpool lines. In journals, in Google Docs, and in half-awake notes typed into your phone. It happens because you made it happen. Day after day. Word after word. And the secret sauce?Consistency.

In the world of writing, it can be tempting to believe that our stories are best created in solitude—the lone author pouring heart, soul, and sleepless nights into every page. But here’s a hard truth: even the most talented writers have blind spots. And that’s why beta readers are not just helpful—they’re essential.

Let’s be clear: we’re not suggesting rules are a cage. They are a compass. But once you know how to use them, you can take your story off the beaten path with confidence—and even blaze new trails for others to follow.

As writers, it’s tempting to shield our protagonists from the full brunt of adversity. After all, we’ve created them. We know their dreams, their heartbreaks, and their deepest insecurities. But our job is not to protect them. Our job is to test them—because the heart of every compelling narrative lies in how the protagonist overcomes what feels impossible.

Every writer should have a clear, concise, and engaging way to talk about what they do. Think of it as your “elevator pitch.” Not a sales pitch—but a heart pitch. A way to express what your work is about, why you write it, and what you hope readers gain from it. Don’t underestimate those “small” moments. A short conversation with a stranger could lead to a new reader, a collaboration, or a speaking opportunity. When you're clear about what you do and why, people remember y

Readers are smart. They want to engage with your story, not be spoon-fed every detail. When you leave a little unsaid, you invite readers into the narrative as active participants. You give them the dignity to interpret, imagine, and invest emotionally. This trust deepens the bond between writer and reader. It also reflects a deeper truth about the human experience: life itself is rarely straightforward.

Every chapter in your book should have a clear, intentional purpose—one that drives the plot forward, develops your characters, or deepens the story’s themes. In this post, I’ll walk you through the critical importance of chapter purpose, how to identify and craft it, practical exercises to apply to your writing process, examples from well-known books and authors, faith-based insights, and declarations to inspire your creative journey. Let’s dive in and make every chapter cou

This truth hits every writer—whether you’re a beginner with a dream or a seasoned wordsmith wrestling through a deadline. Writing is not about bursts of speed but endurance, discipline, and showing up over and over again. One word. One sentence. One chapter at a time.

It’s easy to focus on your protagonist. They’re the emotional heart, the anchor of your reader’s loyalty. But if your story’s conflict is going to be rich and memorable, your antagonist must be more than just a villain. They must be a person. A soul. A shadow of truth. And that means showing not just their strengths—but their vulnerabilities.

Whether you’re working on your first book, your fifteenth blog post, or just trying to get a sentence down before your lunch break ends, you’ve likely had moments when the ideas seem stuck—like they’re hiding behind a curtain just out of reach. The good news? They’re not far. Often, the spark you need is already right in front of you—you just haven’t noticed it yet.

Welcome to this week’s Tony Tips Tuesdays, where we dive into one of the most powerful and often overlooked elements in storytelling: internal conflict. As writers, we often chase the big plot twists, the enemy confrontations, and the external stakes. But the truth is, what makes a story resonate—what makes a character stay with us long after we’ve turned the last page—is what they battle within.