Featuring work by Cathrina Jakeman, Sam Atencio, Kimberly Sample, Emily Olonia, Isaac Samples, Hailey Gardner, Jayme Trujillo, Jacquie Koopman, Kimberly Murillo & Olivia Winkelman
TLDR; Concision
Cathrina Jakeman
The best writing always feels effortless, which is deeply unfair because it usually takes a lot of effort.
As a writer, this frustrates me to no end, and as an editor, I understand the sentiment. Good writing is not dependent on emotionless labor, and at the same time, good writing isn’t determined by effort. Really, the strongest writing is writing that knows what it is doing and leads the reader there.
Ex: The city felt overwhelming to her because it was loud, crowded, and full of people moving quickly in every direction.
Trust the reader enough to let the strongest details speak. Never apologize or lose confidence on the page.
Ex: The city overwhelmed her with its noise and crowding.
Long story short: Cut the apology before the idea. Cut the affirmation. Cut everything that delays, dilutes, or defends it.
Ex: She watched the city move without waiting.
Strong writing does not need to prove how hard it worked.
Ex: The city moved without her.
It just needs to work.
***
I Don’t Need A.I. to Tell Me That A.I. Is Bad
Sam Atencio
There are many industries that A.I. has helped people excel at, but writing shouldn’t be one of them. Artificial intelligence (A.I.) has become a hot topic as of late, especially in industries that rely on the creative abilities of people. Authors have always had a monopoly of sorts on writing. Only authors could write, and publishers had to turn to authors and pay them for their content. However, now publishers can use a much cheaper tool that can produce at a much higher rate than human authors. From a purely business perspective, there is no better deal.
Thankfully, while working on Tempered Steel we encountered minimal use of A.I. for the works we read for the journal. As a team we decided that there would be a zero-tolerance policy on A.I., meaning that if a work was suspected of A.I. use, then it was not included. Though our journal being connected to an educational institution influenced our decision, our decision also reflected that of the larger publishing industry. The general consensus among the publishing industry is absolutely no use of A.I.. However, that doesn’t mean everyone listens.
The publishing process is going to change exponentially as A.I. continues to develop. The first domino to fall was the Shy Girl scandal. Shy Girl, by Mia Ballard, was suspected of A.I. use immediately following its release in February of 2025. Following an A.I. detection analysis it was pulled by its publisher for being found to be over 78% A.I. generated. This debacle proved two things to the publishing industry. First, the industry is susceptible to the use of A.I. because not only did most readers and consumers fail to notice, but so did the publishers, editors, and agents of the publishing houses. This leads to the second issue, lack of reliable detection software. When it is eventually suspected of A.I. a novel may never be fully proven to be so because the options for detecting A.I. are not developing as fast as A.I. itself. This lack of accountability could eventually lead to many A.I. books making it onto shelves in place of human created works. Many people who use A.I. or defend its use argue that if the industry can’t tell, why does it matter?
In short, the reason that it matters, especially for the Tempered Steel journal, is development. An important part of the Tempered Steel journal here at Colorado State Pueblo is working with blooming and up and coming young writers to get their early works published. As such the journal is run in a way that reflects the external printing world. Giving students an opportunity to publish in a reputable journal gives them experience before working their way up to larger presses. As a journal we do not want to condone or promote the use of A.I. and as such our decision was to not allow its use.
Works Cited
Alter, Alexandra. “A.I. Is Writing Fiction. Publishers Are Unprepared.” New York Times, Mar. 2026.
Trigg, Mike. “Think AI Is Bad for Authors? The Worst Is yet to Come.” Writer’s Digest, Writer’s Digest, 17 Apr. 2024,
www.writersdigest.com/be-inspired/think-ai-is-bad-for-authors-the-worst-is-yet-to-come.
***
Diversity in Publishing
Kimberly Sample & Emily Olonia
CSU Pueblo prides itself on being an institution that serves any and all people who want an education. More than that, it strives to make sure all of the unique voices that make up our college are heard equally. There is no better way in which voices can be heard than through literature and the personal experience that inspires it. The editorial team of the 2026 edition of Tempered Steel felt that it was incredibly important to make sure that the student base on campus was heard and seen in the accepted work. We did this through being conscious of what messages we wanted to convey as well as who we could better spotlight in the journal.
A few of our pieces in the journal focused on gender identity and sexuality. We, as editors, felt it was really important to showcase how these identities can reflect in people and imprint on their art. The journal shows two art pieces by Maxwell Crouch focused on advocating for the rights of transgender people and reflecting the love that he has received from the community. Additionally, there is a fantasy-centered work that explores a relationship between two queer women. We felt that having these different gender and sexuality experiences from different authors was key in making sure everyone is seen and can resonate with the pieces that Tempered Steel has to offer.
Identity is often tied to childhood and heritage, so we made sure to include a variety of pieces that reflected the complex feelings of hometowns and family. We highlighted themes of generational trauma, struggles with identity away from home, nostalgia, and so much more to encompass the journey to finding one’s identity. Erion E. Evans’ piece, “Shtepi” focuses on the joyful nostalgia of his home away from home, Gjakova, Kosovo. Caylin Rageth’s poem “Nine Years Later Still Nine Hours Down the Road” focuses on the loss that comes with growing up. Every experience makes up a person’s identity. Whether the emotions toward one’s heritage are joyful or not, we believe it’s important to represent authors who share their stories.
We had a few pieces that beautifully incorporated languages aside from English. Language is just as much a part of identity as childhood, gender, and sexuality, so we wanted to make sure we created a space for students to express themselves in that way. We had a submission entitled “Maleta” that incorporated both Spanish and English in a two-page spread. This piece, by Mia Gutierrez, was beautiful in how she shares her story through the language that was passed down through her family in comparison to the English version. Though they’re the same poem, the cadence and structure can vary and shows the overall connection in language and how we speak to each other. Whether using it to speak specifically about societal structures surrounding race or to use it as part of expressing one’s identity, incorporating different languages is a great way to include different points of view and perspectives.
***
Data Voids
Isaac Samples
So unless you’ve heard this term before, I’m putting down a sizable bet (like, three dollars or so) that the term “Data Void” sounds sci-fi and made up with no meaning. However, good news, they’re real, and near you!
Like, literally. They’re everywhere. You may have even directly interacted with one, even recently without knowing the term; a Data Void is, put simply, a form of information that, when searched or looked into, contains either one or zero pieces of data. Ever mess up a search engine query so bad that it said “no results found?” That’s a Data Void! Ever looked for a piece of media so obscure that it was the only result? Data Void! Hooray!
What can Data Voids do for us? Well - it can teach us something about the way information propagates, at least. A Data Void, by being its own individual cut-off destination, has single dominion over its island of information; for example, creating a new bogus scientific concept? Well, there’s nothing with that name, so you could be its sole source of information! It could be anything, including pretending it’s real! Data Voids, by their very nature, have no moderation or alternate view points.
However, in a similar vein, having no competition for information holds a singularly infinitely dense capability: Instant uniqueness. Sure, you could name your work something like “Tempered Steel” - fitting, cool, short, sweet - however, give that a search on your engine of choice. Guess what you get? The material, duh! But, give your creative work a name vetted to be wholly unique? A weird spelling, a strange hyphen, an unusual set of words in weird order, and you have instant unrivaled power over the search engine.
So, if you ever had issues with making unique names, give it a shot! Try to make a Data Void, become ruler over your own space on the internet. It’s both a lot harder and more rewarding than you may think - at the least, it may give you some ideas for a better name.
Writing Interesting Dialogue
Isaac Samples
People talk. [Citation Needed] Or rather, perhaps it would be better said as “people try to talk but ultimately meander and remain so consistently unfocused that it’s relatively impossible to actually glean anything useful out of it unless they pre-prepared the response or are highly knowledgeable in what they want to say, effectively leading conversations to be chaotic tapestries of multiple overlapping throughlines that is incomprehensible to an observer.”
Kinda like that sentence.
So, how can one represent this messiness - this, unplanned inelegant spontaneity - while still making dialogue…readable?
Humans are imprecise creatures. They speak and gesture and attempt to communicate with one another through multiple filters of perception. A thought must first be transformed into words - both the thought and words themselves changed from person to person - and then sent to another individual where the process is reversed; this is ambiguity.
To make dialogue interesting and readable and still feel real is meeting that balance of ambiguity of language and disambiguation of communicating to an audience. We love to speak in code - double, triple, if not quadruple meanings within single sentences - and we as readers love to solve puzzles.
However, of course, real people (generally) do not premeditate speaking in code often. Most double meaning in sentences comes primarily from in the moment phrasing, word choice, and tone that wasn't pre-planned by more than a few seconds. Good dialogue stems from this messiness of hiding feelings and meaning imperfectly, either intentionally or not.
And remember! People talk strangely and differently from one another - we all have our idiosyncrasies, accents, word choices. If you removed the quotation marks from a line of dialogue, and the reader wouldn’t be able to distinguish it from surrounding text, it needs some more! Some pizzazz! Some sauce! Say it out loud to yourself! Act it out! Does it sound real, sound distinguished, sound interesting? It better!
***
Formatting Crimes
Hailey Gardner
“For the love of all that is holy,” Alex said, pacing the length of the patio for the third time in as many minutes, clearly trying not to lose their temper with Calliope. “Your formatting is a crime against humanity.”
“What do you mean? I can read it just fine,” Calliope said, her hair blowing in the spring breeze on the back patio.
Alex collapsed into a chair, burying their face in their hands. “Be patient,” they chanted under their breath. “She’s an alien. You can’t murder an alien. Be patient.”
“Come on, Alex, I am trying here. I have only been writing for a couple of years.”
“Fine. Fine!” Alex flung their hands skyward and snatched Calliope’s laptop from the table. “First question: what program did you use to write this?”
Calliope blinked, pulling her cardigan tighter against the breeze. “Google Docs. Why? Does it matter?”
“Does it matter?” Alex pinched the bridge of their nose. “Yes, Calliope, it matters. Tempered Steel wants a Word document. A .docx file. Not a Google Doc, not a PDF, not a Pages file you emailed to yourself at two in the morning. A Word document. You need to make sure whatever you write in can be saved as a .docx, or the editors won’t even open it.”
“Okay, okay.” Calliope reached across the table and reclaimed her mug of tea, wrapping both hands around it. “I can download it as a Word file from Docs. That’s easy enough.”
“Good. That’s one thing off the list.” Alex scrolled, their eye twitching like a faulty neon sign. “Now explain why this is single-spaced.”
Calliope shrugged, not looking up from her mug. “It looks cleaner?”
“It looks cleaner,” Alex echoed, voice flat as a pancake. “Calliope, editors are mere mortals drowning in submissions. Double-space your prose. It’s kinder to their eyes, their sanity, and their red pens. Single-spacing is like tossing them a brick of text and wishing them luck. Double-space. Always.”
Calliope pulled the laptop back across the table and made the change without argument, clicking twice with the air of someone defusing a bomb. “Done. What else?”
“Tell me you actually read Tempered Steel’s submission page before sending this.”
A long pause stretched between them. Somewhere in the yard, a bird called once and went quiet.
“...I skimmed it.”
Alex let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “You skimmed it. Calliope, I swear on every literary magazine that has ever rejected me — and there have been many — you have to read the submission guidelines. All of them. Word for word. If they want Times New Roman twelve-point font, you use Times New Roman twelve-point font. If they want your name in the header, you put your name in the header. You follow the rules exactly as they are written.”
Calliope glanced up from her phone. “That seems like a lot of rules for a creative field.”
“It is a lot of rules,” Alex admitted, sinking into their chair. “But break them, and you’re telling the editors you don’t care. That’s not the story you want to tell.”
Calliope nodded slowly, already scrolling through the Tempered Steel guidelines on her phone. “Okay. What about all the fancy stuff? I put in some colored text for the flashback sections and...”
“No.”
“But it looks...”
“No, Calliope. No colored text. No fancy fonts. No text boxes. Nothing flashy. Stick to the basics: standard font, standard formatting. For section breaks, use a centered, asterisk, a dash, or a pound sign. That’s it. Editors want your words, not your flair for design.”
Calliope deleted the colors with a visible pout, jabbing the backspace key harder than necessary. “Fine. Boring, but fine.”
“What’s the title?”
Calliope looked up. “What?”
“The title. Of your story. What is it?”
“Oh.” She glanced at the top of the document. “‘Untitled Draft 3.’”
The silence that followed was long and heavy. Alex set the laptop down on the table very carefully.
“Calliope.”
“I was going to fix it!”
“The title is the first thing an editor reads before they’ve touched a single word of your prose. It sets the whole tone. ‘Untitled Draft 3’ isn’t a title; it’s a distress signal.” Alex massaged their temples. “Give it a name that earns its place on the page. It doesn’t have to be clever, just chosen on purpose.”
Calliope chewed her lip, staring at the screen. The breeze lifted a loose strand of hair across her face and she ignored it. After a moment she typed something, deleted it, typed something else. “Okay. I have one.”
“Good. Don’t tell me what it is, I’ll read it properly later.” Alex crossed their arms. “Now. When did you finish writing this?”
“Last night.” Calliope smiled, a little proud of herself.
Alex closed their eyes. “Last night.”
“I was inspired! The deadline is in two weeks, so I thought I’d get a head start on submitting...”
“You can’t submit something you just finished. You’re still in the honeymoon phase. Your brain will gloss over every typo, every awkward sentence, convinced it’s flawless. Let it rest. A few days, at least. A week is better. Return with fresh eyes and you’ll spot things that would make you cringe if an editor found them first.”
Calliope looked genuinely alarmed. “But what if I forget about it?”
“Set a phone reminder. Stick a note on your fridge. Write it on your hand in permanent marker if you must.” Alex pointed at her.
“You have two weeks. Make them count.”
“Fine,” Calliope muttered, though she was already typing a reminder into her phone with one thumb. “What about the length? Is it too long?”
“How many words?”
She checked, lips moving slightly as she counted. “About thirty-six hundred.”
Alex’s eye twitched again. “Tempered Steel’s prose limit is three thousand words per piece. You’re six hundred words over the cliff.”
“Can I just...”
“No, you can’t just sneak it in and hope they miss the word count. You have to cut it. That’s another reason to let it rest. You’ll see what matters and what’s just sentimental clutter.” Alex’s tone softened, just a touch. “A hundred words won’t break you. You can find them.”
Calliope looked at her story with the expression of someone being asked to choose which of their children to give up. She scrolled slowly through it once, as if saying goodbye. “Okay,” she said finally. “Okay. I’ll cut it.”
“Two more things after that.” Alex held up a finger. “Page numbers. Do you have page numbers?”
Calliope checked, tilting the screen toward the afternoon light. “No.”
“Add them. Top right or bottom right corner—your last name and the page number. If the pages go flying, editors can piece it back together. It’s a tiny detail that makes you look professional.”
“While you’re at it,” Alex said, leaning over her shoulder and pointing at the screen, “delete every comment. All those digital sticky notes? Gone. Editors don’t need to read ‘fix this later???’ scribbled in the margins.”
“Those are my personal notes!”
“Exactly. That’s why they stay out of a submission. Clean document. No comments, no tracked changes, no ghostly revision history. Just your story.”
Calliope scrubbed through the document, deleting comments with increasing speed, her jaw set with the focus of someone defusing a second bomb. She shut the laptop an inch, as if to protect it from further criticism. “Okay. Done. Are we almost finished?”
“One last thing.” Alex leaned back. Alex gave her a look that mixed patience with deep suffering, the look of someone who had been through this before and expected to go through it again. “Proofread. Really proofread. Read it out loud if you must. Spell-check is not proofreading. If you wrote it yesterday and haven’t slept, your eyes are useless. Fresh eyes, Calliope. Or better yet,” they gestured between them, “let a friend read it.”
Calliope smiled for the first time since Alex had started pacing. “Is that what you are? My friend?”
“I am your long-suffering editor,” Alex declared, rising from their chair and swiping a long sip of Calliope’s lemonade without asking.
“And when Tempered Steel publishes you, dinner’s on you.”
“Deal,” Calliope said, and turned back to her screen.
***
Diving Deeper: Introducing more Magical Creatures in your Fictional Works
Jacquie Koopman
When creating out-of-this-world extraterrestrials or creatures for your future works, you don’t have to look too far. Earth is full of oddities that have already been discovered, ranging from translucent frogs to rare flowers that smell like rotting corpses when they bloom.
When basing anything off of real animals, I’d recommend doing research on how their physiology works and seeing how you can tweak it to a more fantastical setting. You don’t have to become a scientist, but looking into how certain animals communicate with one another and their environment will make you knowledgeable on how your characters can interact with them in various settings. Of course there is always the fun of simply making stuff up as you go, so my only advice for that is to make sure you’re keeping track of everything in a notebook to keep your story consistent.
Even if you stay above the surface, Earth’s variety of species is fascinating, but I think the best place of inspiration is under the sea.
In the lovely, dark, and deep depths, animals evolved to survive in the intense pressure and chilling temps of the deep. This shows up in deep sea gigantism with the colossal squid or the Japanese spider crab. Sometimes they can become so tiny that they become microscopic like zooplankton, but there are plenty in between sizes for our vast oceans. One example are Barreleye fish, which evolved to have their eyes always looking upward for food, displaying a false set on their faces.
Without sunlight, marine life have found other ways to hunt and hide. Many evolved to be red, a color that is nearly impossible to see the further down you go, or transparency as camouflage. Also, most will use their bodies to scatter light, such as comb jellyfish. The only reason the colors show up as rainbows is because they’re not used to scientists shining spotlights on them. Another feature deep sea creatures use is bioluminescence: a chemical reaction in organisms that produce a glowing light. They may utilize it to distract unsuspecting prey, attract a potential mate, or defend themselves from predators.
In the end, building a fantastical world involves filling it with wondrous creatures great and small. Looking beyond what we know allows us to discover new things about our current world that broaden our creativity.
***
Advice for Submitters
Jayme Trujillo
Submitting your work to a literary journal can be an exciting and nerve-racking experience. When it comes to submitting to Tempered Steel, there are some pieces of advice that the editorial team has for authors and artists.
During the selection process for this journal, the editorial team blindly reviews every piece, which means that every work is read with no knowledge of who it was written by. This plays an important part in making sure that every piece that is selected for publication was selected due to the quality of work rather than who it was written by. To help the editing team ensure this anonymity when selecting pieces, you should remove your name from the work itself prior to submitting. This includes making sure that your cover letter is uploaded separately from the work itself and that the title of the submission does not include any identifying information.
Another piece of advice is for the authors to make sure that the typeface (or font) used when writing the story is easy to read and able to be easily translated amongst different writing platforms, such as Microsoft Word and Google Docs. This makes it easier for the editorial team to proofread the selected pieces without having to completely retype the work. This also helps ensure that the integrity of the work stays consistent from the time it is submitted until the time it is published.
Another notable thing to take into consideration is the submission of artwork. Due to printing restrictions artwork that is published within the physical journal will be printed in black and white; therefore, printing it will change the overall look of the artwork if it is color. The editorial team also asks that if a piece of artwork is depicted within a larger work that correct credit is given to the creator of the artwork.
Once you have successfully submitted your work for publication with Tempered Steel, be on the lookout for any emails that might come from the editorial team. These emails may entail acceptances and rejections, but there may also be emails consisting of questions that the editors need answered before they are able to proceed with publication of a piece.
Overall, the editorial team encourages people to submit works of various forms and genres and appreciates all support for Tempered Steel and its staff.
***
A Day in the Life of a Tempered Steel Editor: Rejections
Kimberly Murillo
As we all know, and some of us have experienced the feeling more often than others, receiving a rejection letter in any type of situation does not feel good. It makes us overthink, and we question what we did wrong, or why our work wasn’t good enough. It could be hard to bounce back from this type of communication, but it does not always mean the end of a writing career. It can be the beginning to continue striving for something greater.
This year some of us here on the editorial staff of Tempered Steel were on the opposite end of receiving those letters and had to send them out instead.
It was hard to overcome the fear of hurting people’s feelings, knowing that when pressing the send button on an email, we probably crushed someone’s dream of being published. Although it felt as though there was no way to get through it without cringing at the thought of being the reason someone’s day was ruined, we found a way to make sure our submitters still understood their work was great, but it just didn’t fit naturally with what we were looking for this time around with this latest edition of Tempered Steel.
This year at Tempered Steel, we sent out various types of rejections, some of them being generic rejections that simply stated the submitters work wasn’t what we were looking for; however, for others, the rejection included positive feedback saying their work was great and we enjoyed reading it, but it could be made stronger and should be submitted again next year.
Along with some of the rejections, we sent out personal commentary about what we liked about their pieces overall. We enjoyed the world-building details that some writers put into their fantasy stories, and for others we enjoyed where the poem was leading in terms of theme, but maybe it just needed a specific stanza to be expanded on. Even though they did not get accepted, their work does deserve to be seen, and we made sure to encourage them not to let this rejection be the one to stop them from trying to get it out there.
We appreciate everyone that submitted their poems and art, and we wanted to reassure them that the right opportunity will come along for them to be published. Every single piece of work had something that caught our eye, and we loved getting to read the different pieces of writing that the submitters had entered to be submitted!
***
Getting Release Party Ready: How to Read Your Writing in Front of a Crowd
Olivia Winkelman
Did you get an invite to this year’s Tempered Steel release party? Do you want to read your work in front of the audience but feel overwhelmed by the idea? Don’t worry. It’s not as scary as it sounds. Let’s work through this together.
1. Getting prepared.
If you feel anxiety over reading your writing in front of a crowd, practice and preparation are key. Try reading out your excerpt by yourself a few times and time yourself to see how much time your reading may take up. This will help you get more comfortable reading your writing out loud and will minimize mistakes made while reading aloud at the party.
Using a preliminary audience.
Once you have done this, maybe read your writing out to a friend, or loved one. Having an audience that you’re more comfortable with will help familiarize you with reading your writing out loud.
Your writing was selected for publication for a reason, you deserve to be in the journal, and you deserve the opportunity to read.
2. Breathing deeply.
On the big day, once you get up on the stage and before you start to read, take a deep breath. It’s normal and natural to be nervous but remembering to breathe before and during your reading will help slow your heartrate. There will be fewer mistakes while you read because of it. The audience isn’t focused on the shakiness of your voice or any words you stutter over, they’re focused on the excellence of your work.
3. Have fun!
Writing Beginnings
Zach Core, Ashley Schlup & Kris Swanson
Sometimes all you need to start writing the next great American novel is having a catchy opening line, a hook that draws the reader in and makes them ask questions like, What’s next?, thus creating the need to keep reading. But what if you don’t have a catchy opening line, how then, do you start writing the next great American novel? There are a few things that you can do. Some may work, and some won’t, but most will do enough to get the creative juices flowing. There are three things that have proven very popular in starting your next fictional piece. The first one is to pick a writing routine that is right for you. Second, experiment with
words in your opening line. And finally, wait for it...big reveal...write. That’s right. Just start writing. There are countless more, but to keep things simple, this article will cover just these three things.
Creating habits, especially writing habits, can be difficult. The article "Tips for Building a Writing Routine" is sure to help with that issue. The author Gretchen Rubin lists 12 steps that can help you develop a healthy writing routine. One of the tips worth mentioning is number five, "upgrading your tools." Often overlooked are the tools used when writing. If you find the tools you are using to write deter you from writing, get new tools, such as a new laptop, an antique or typewriter, something to make writing fun again. Another tip is number one on the list, "select a time and frequency in which you will write." Having a set time to write ups the odds of you actually writing. And the last one worth mentioning is fourth on the list, "adjust your sound environment." Whether you like music, white noise, or silence, make sure your environment is to your liking.
Once you have a routine, writing that first line can often be the hardest. Everyone wants to create a memorable opener, but sometimes writers block happens right from the start. A few things to remember are that you do not have to be fancy, and it does not have to have a million words. Moby Dick started with just three words. One thing that authors Jack Smith and Sean Glatch suggest is experimenting with your first sentence. Change the word count, try starting with onomatopoeia or use a metaphor. Or in the case of No One’s Leaving by Raki Kopernik, capitalize a certain number of words of the first sentence. The beginning sentence needs to be a good hook, but it also needs to be backed up by a strong story.
So how do you get a strong story? By writing, writing, and then writing some more. Writing every day will strengthen your ability to create a story. And one thing writing every day will help with is vocabulary. Eilish Toohey says that writing every day will help you see the words that you may be overusing in your writing. Then you can start to expand your vocabulary by choosing words that you are not using at all. Doing this seemingly simple thing will make you a better writer. On a side note, don’t try to get too fancy; you don’t want your reader to have to run to the dictionary every other sentence.
As stated at the beginning, this list is only a handful of things that can help you start your next great American novel. There are plenty of suggestions out there by authors that may a bit more to your liking, but by creating a routine, experimenting with your first sentence, and writing, writing, writing, you are sure to give yourself a solid start to your writing career. Whether for fun, school, or work, these three things are sure to stay in your toolbox of writing for a long time.
Works Cited
Rubin, Gretchen. "Tips for Building a Writing Routine." Gretchen Rubin, 15 Aug. 2023,
gretchenrubin.com/articles/tips-for-building-a-writing-routine/.
Smith, Jack, and Sean Glatch. "How to Start Writing Fiction: The 6 Core Elements."
Writers.com, 2 June 2025, writers.com/how-to-start-writing-fiction.
Toohey, Eilish. "Practice Makes Perfect: How Writing Every Day Can Make You a Better
Writer." Scribendi, www.scribendi.com/academy/articles/writing_every_day.en.html.
***
Stakes
Rhode “Rudy” Gachette, Gage Genova & Evelyn Opps
Raising stakes is an important element of fictional writing. It involves three facets of stakes: plot, character, and society. For each part, the writer can pose different questions to challenge protagonists, causing them to suffer and grow throughout the story.
Stakes are a literary tool that helps drive a plot forward and to give meaning to characters so that they can perform actions. Whether the stakes are internal or external forces, they will be unique to the protagonists and their circumstances. The best example of stakes are “personal stakes,” which reflect the character’s feelings on what is important to them and why their path is significant to their goals. When we view a character’s motivations on a deeper level, their convictions and morals come to light, which play a key role in setting up what are called “ultimate stakes.” When protagonists rise to the challenge with obstacles becoming greater and greater, persistence and perseverance comes from deep within. While obstacles and overcoming them can thus rely on internal forces, many forces in storytelling are external. “Public stakes” will require a completion of the task to avoid unwanted consequences, preventing an unwanted future to protect themselves and those around them. However, these “public stakes” are often outside of the protagonist’s control, where instead the focus becomes on how they react and continue forward.
That is why plot- or design-driven fiction is essential for having large stakes, in other words, the ever-looming threat to the lead character. Almost always, this is in the form of another person trying to cause harm to the lead, physically, emotionally, or professionally (Bell, 2008). Part of raising the stakes for the main character is building a “stakes outline." This is where the conflicts the lead character endures grow along the story from least to worst. The outline helps the writer to establish scenes and shifting points throughout the story. Questions for the setup can be: What physical harm can come to the lead? What new forces can charge in to oppose my lead? What’s the worst thing that can happen to my lead’s career life? (Bell, 2008).
A stake within writing is basically the weighed out consequence of the character’s actions. Jen Craven, in an article for Craft, wrote about the impact that a character’s suffering has on a story. She begins by discussing a struggle that every author faces where they attempt to cushion their character to protect them from the harshness of the written world, but she then describes how “if you want to write page-turning suspense, you have to get comfortable with watching your characters fall apart.” There would be nothing to gain if your character didn’t hold their ideals strongly or if they had no hardships to work though; it accentuates the conflict and
gives a lot more meaning to the work. Craven specifies that suffering is written into a story for a reason and is not there to act as a layer of trauma for shock value. Stakes give a story meaning, and without being able to see that as you go along, you lose reader sympathy, and you can lose the direction of the story as a whole. While adding an element of suffering to a character is not the only way to show the stakes in a situation, there are multiple good ways to see it through this element, such as a character’s fears or their relationships.
Therefore, the caliber of the lead character can be as significant as what is happening on the outside. It could be psychological as well as emotional reaction to a tragic trauma that could affect the protagonist's personality, changing for the better or worse. Murder, sexual deviance, or just plain evil are among the avenues that lead the main character to raise the conflict within themself. Questions for this aspect of the protagonist can be: How can things get more emotionally wrenching for the lead? Is there someone the lead cares about who can get caught up in the trouble? What must the lead hide from others at all costs?
It is by giving the character depth and having the reader learn of their struggles and challenges that a story becomes meaningful. A character that faces these stakes feels human and more relatable to the reader. Where these stakes can grow to such a level, where the reader roots for the character as the resolution brings feelings of hope and a happy ending.
Works Cited
Bell, James Scott. “Raising the Stakes.” Writer’s Digest, 11 Mar. 2008,
www.writersdigest.com/writing-articles/raising-the-stakes.
Craven, Jen. “Are You Being Too Nice to Your Characters? Why Suffering Matters in
Suspense.” CRAFT Literary, 23 July 2025,
https://www.craftliterary.com/2025/07/23/are-you-being-too-nice-to-your-characters-why-
suffering-matters-in-suspense/
Mass, Donald. “The 3 Key Types of ‘Stakes’ That Drive Novels.” Writer’s Digest,
Writer’s Digest, 19 Oct. 2010,
writersdigest.com/improve-my-writing/3-key-stakes-that-drive-novels.
***
Pacing
Mackenzie Ziek, Emily Olonia & Kimberly Sample
Pacing is a crucial aspect to writing. It serves the critical purpose of controlling the reading experience of your story. When writing it’s important to consider the rhythm which your story follows and how your chain of events fall into place. The length of your paragraphs, the words you select, and how you structure your sentences all impact the pacing of your story. A good pace consists of a balance between action and rest, so readers do not feel rushed or bored. The main purpose of pacing it is to keep your reader engaged.
Knowing when to speed up and slow down is essential to creating a cohesive and engaging story. When you want to create urgency, there are a few things you can do. As a writer, you can throw readers into action with immediate conflict, create clear and urgent stakes, and have scenes with minimal downtime. This type of writing is often associated with plot-driven stories like thrillers, action, horror, and mysteries. Other premises that benefit from the use of fast pacing are apocalyptic settings, emphasis on time, and escape narratives (“Slow Burn”). Knowing what kind of urgency and stakes your story has will help you decide how fast it needs to be paced.
If you want to write a story that builds up investment over time, then a slower paced story is probably more your speed. These types of stories include gradual escalation of tension, emphasis on the atmosphere and character emotions, and subtle foreshadowing. Slow paced stories emphasize character development and internal conflict over plot shifts. Theme-heavy stories surrounding grief, existential dilemmas, moral ambiguity, etc. can benefit from slower paced descriptions because there is often a major payoff at the end with your desired conclusion (“Slow Burn").When writing genres like fantasy, historical fiction, and sci-fi, a slower pace will allow for a more intricate setting and character dynamics.
There are several techniques and tricks to create a well-paced story. It’s important to keep in mind that it takes practice. To create a story with well structured pacing you can make an outline consisting of the story’s rise and fall, or in other words, chain of events. When you write an action packed scene, it's important to also include quiet moments of introspection, so the readers can collect their thoughts. If you’re looking to create more depth in your story, think about adding backstory, subplots, or added intrigue with a cliffhanger. Finding the natural balance between action and mundaneity is key to controlling your story.
As with anything else, there is room for mistakes to be made when trying to pace properly. Wilbur Greene’s article "The Art of Pacing: Keeping Readers Engaged from Start to Finish" emphasizes three main mistakes: overwhelming readers, losing reader interest, and becoming inconsistent. Too much information can be seen as a buffet. Readers can only consume so much of your work at one time, so you have to be able to feed it to them carefully. If you don’t give them time to digest, they can’t savor your work properly. You also don’t want to lose your readers at any point in your story. If you are talking about horses, don’t come out of left field and talk about cats for three paragraphs. Keeping on the same topic and including meaningful transitions when you want to change topics is a great way to keep readers hooked. Losing readers and becoming inconsistent also go hand in hand. Greene also uses the example of slow dancing when discussing consistency in writing. You, as a writer, want to try to stay on tempo and not crush your partner’s feet. The best way of keeping your readers on the same pace as you is dancing in time, and making sure your pacing is correct to uplift other aspects of your work.
Works Cited
Greene, Wilbur. “The Art of Pacing: Keeping Readers Engaged from Start to Finish.” Medium, The Writing Cooperative, 11
Oct. 2023, writingcooperative.com/theart-of-pacing-keeping-readers-engaged-from-start-to-finish-6e368d07a7f0.
Jackson, Savannah. “Pacing in Writing: Engage Your Readers with Every Page.” Jericho Writers, 15 Sept. 2022,
jerichowriters.com/pacing-in-writing/.
“Slow Burn vs. Fast-Paced: Choosing the Right Storytelling Tempo.” Author’s Pathway, 10 July 2025,
authorspathway.com/crafting-your-story/plot-development/slow-burn-vs-fast-paced-choosing-the-right-
storytellingtempo/.
***
Imagery and Symbolism
Patience Gwardyak, Jacqueline Koopman & Mia Lubiano
Two of the most important factors in crafting a great story are imagery and symbolism. A good writer uses imagery to paint vivid pictures in the reader’s mind, and these images usually represent an underlying theme or message within the story. These literary devices are intrinsic to literature and have been used by various authors throughout history.
The symbols of literature are created through imagery. An author must use descriptive language that appeals to a reader’s sense of taste, touch, smell, and hearing. Imagery is “vivid language designed to appeal to these senses” (Malewitz 1). The use of such language is essential for readers because it enables them to imagine and experience the text realistically, as if they are actually in it. This allows the reader to immerse themselves in the author's world, creating a sense of empathy with the characters and the world they inhabit. Imagery is used to establish settings, describe characters, and create symbols that readers will forever associate with the work and its themes. However, it’s also imperative for shaping the tone of the work and how the author might feel about characters, locations, or objects based on the language they’re using.
Next, symbolism is utilized to communicates subtle themes in stories. Symbols may come up organically during an author’s writing process, or they intentionally plan their symbolism out. Fawkes defines symbolism as a means to, “Communicate something abstract in a more concrete way” (Fawkes 1). This goes hand in hand with imagery, taking the abstract idea of something like hope or freedom and allowing the reader to connect it to the visuals presented.Expanding the attribution of meaning beyond one symbol helps to deepen the story’s connections. Recurring symbols can turn into motifs, and to keep the repetition from becoming stale it is important to find ways that evolve them (Fawkes 1). Moreover, the author balances how they show and don’t tell in their writing when using symbols, furthering the story’s subtle messages.
Finally, symbolism and imagery work extremely well together to create an emotional image in the reader's mind. As aforementioned, imagery is more than simply creating a picture in the mind of your readers; it grounds a reader in a story no matter how foreign the text might be. Furthermore, symbolism is pertinent to exposing important subtleties. When these elements are
used together they create an extremely immersive meaningful story that completely enthralls readers. According to Tyler Biscontini in the article "Imagery, Motifs, Symbolism," "...imagery is often used in conjunction with symbolism and motifs. Certain images, such as a bald eagle, invoke cultural and historical connotations in the reader. Similarly, imagery that repeatedly appears throughout the narrative can be used as a motif, encouraging readers to examine the work as a whole within the context of the image."
As stated by Biscontini, there are various extremely famous examples of symbolism and imagery working in tandem. The example of a bald eagle is a perfect instance of the two working in tandem. A bald eagle being described to a reader may invoke a sense of pride and patriotism, that patriotism may be lessened due to the current state of the government that is symbolic of, but regardless of the emotion it invokes it is still a powerful one. In summary, the use of both imagery and symbolism almost guarantees a power story to be told.
Works Cited
Malewitz, Raymond. What Is Imagery? Oregon State University. Published 24 April 2019.
https://liberalarts.oregonstate.edu/wlf/what-imagery-definition-examples
Fawkes, September C. Strengthening Story with Symbolism, Motifs, and Image Systems .
www.septembercfawkes.com/2022/05/strengthening-story-with-symbolism.html
Biscontini, Tyler. “Imagery, Motifs, Symbolism.” EBSCO Research Starters:
Literature & Writing , 2024,
www.ebsco.com/research-starters/literature-and-writing/imagery-motifs-symbolism.
***
Elements of Style
Cathrina Jakeman, Hailey Gardner & Leah Pellett
When exploring a writing style, a writer would begin by considering common styles such as narrative, descriptive, expository, and persuasive. Elements like purpose, audience, and the context will also contribute to one’s particular writing style. Once one has established such components, they can begin experimenting with word choice, sentence structure, tone and voice. All of these have great effects on style and considering them will help you as a writer play around with what you enjoy the most in your craft.
As every writer uses words in different ways, word choice can be a defining factor to one’s unique writing style. In Sean Glatch’s article, “The Importance of Word Choice in Writing,” he states that there are a few main elements that go into word choice: meaning, specificity, and audience. There are two types of meaning, denotative or connotative, that should be considered during craft. For example, if one were to write, “the marshmallow puffs coated the sheep’s brittle skin,” one may observe that the word choice denotes that the sheep’s coat is made of marshmallows, but it connotes that the sheep’s coat is fluffy, white, and soft. Another factor to keep in mind when playing with word choice is specificity. It is very easy to pull up a thesaurus to avoid repetition, but what a lot of writers do not consider is if the word they choose is correct regarding the sentence’s meaning and description (Glatch). For example, if one is trying to describe that a woman’s heart is broken, they would not refer to her heart as a “cardiac organ,” and they would want to consider the way they describe the “breaking” of the heart. Would her heart be shattered or would it be severed? Both choices are synonyms that could replace the word “broken,” but the decision lies between the specific scenario in which the scene takes place. If the woman is exhibiting heartbreak, “shattered” might make more sense given the context, as “severed” might give readers the impression that the woman has literally been stabbed in the heart. Finally, audience is a major factor to consider with diction. It would be normal to use words like, “dope” or “sick” in a young adult piece, but it would be unusual to see such words in a classy/professional piece.
Sentence structure also has a profound effect on writing style. The article “Effective Writing Practices Tutorial: Sentence Structure” from Northern Illinois University argues that if every sentence follows the same “subject-verb-object” form, the result is mechanical prose. Variation in sentence types, openings, and length keeps readers engaged. By mixing simple, compound, and complex sentences, a writer can control the flow of narrative so that rhythms feel smooth, ideas resonate, and pacing matches the story. Next, varying sentence openings, for instance, beginning with adverb modifiers, dependent clauses, or infinitive phrases, allows for subtle shifts in emphasis. Finally, alternating short and long sentences helps regulate rhythm: short sentences can make the reader pause and focus their attention on a particular idea, while longer ones build detail, reflection, or tension. Sentences that are all the same length feel boring and uninspiring, but variation brings the story on the page to life.
Tone and voice are closely related, contributing to a writer's unique style. When considering voice, it's essential to reflect on the assignment and the persona the writer adopts, which helps the reader feel guided and purposeful. According to Writer's Digest, a teacher wouldn't use hip-hop slang in a history lecture about the 1800s ("Tips"). When it comes to tone, aim to align your voice with your intended audience while remaining authentic to your style. It's important to adapt your tone based on the topic to communicate effectively. Writer's Digest also states that if you typically have a light, breezy, chatty tone, you should adopt a more subdued approach when writing an article on a serious topic like cancer ("Tips"). Lastly, avoid adopting a tone that doesn't resonate with your true self.
In conclusion, elements of style such as word choice, sentence structure, tone and voice are choices made by the writer to effectively articulate their ideas.
Works Cited
“Effective Writing Practices Tutorial: Sentence Structure.” Northern Illinois University,
www.niu.edu/writing-tutorial/style/sentence-structure.shtml. Accessed 2 Dec. 2025.
Glatch, Sean. “The Importance of Word Choice in Writing.” Writers.Com, 1 July 2025,
writers.com/word-choice-in-writing. Accessed 2 Dec. 2025.
“Tips for Finding Your Own Writing Style.” Writer’s Digest, 11 Mar. 2008,
www.writersdigest.com/improve-my-writing/tips-for-finding-your-own-writing-style.
Accessed 18 Nov. 2025.
***
Writing Endings
Jayme Trujillo & Hannah Brown
When it comes to writing a story, one of the aspects that people tend to struggle with the most is writing endings. There are a variety of reasons why people tend to struggle when writing endings. Some of these reasons include that the writer does not know how to wrap up storylines, they are worried that they will write an ending that people will hate, or they just do not know how to end their story. Luckily, there are a variety of different tips and tricks that could be helpful when it comes to writing a good ending to a story.
Types of Endings
Before you begin writing your ending, it is important to understand the various types of endings that are possible. There are six main types of endings: closed/resolved endings, open/unresolved endings, ambiguous endings, surprise/twist endings, closed circle endings, and expanded endings. Closed/resolved endings are endings where all the loose ends in the plot and subplots are tied up or finalized. Opposite of that are open/unresolved endings that typically end in cliffhangers and have loose ends. An ambiguous ending typically is very vague and leaves the end open to interpretation, while a surprise/twist ending contains something that the readers would not expect to happen.The fifth type of ending is a closed circle ending, which takes the events at the end of the story and ties them to the beginning of the story. This often means revisiting the opening scene. Finally, the sixth main type of ending is the expanded ending, which often contains an epilogue that takes place after the story ends and gives the reader a glimpse into the future of the characters.
Once you understand the various types of story endings, you can use that knowledge to begin writing your ending. To help with writing an ending, there are different tips and tricks to help you accomplish the ending that you are hoping for. Consider the nine specific tips below, which you can try to give your story a more fulfilling ending.
The first writing tip that you can try is to start writing your story with the knowledge of how you want it to end. When using this method, it could be helpful to have an outline of your story to help plan out how you want the events of your story to lead to the desired outcome. The entire time you are writing your story, it is also important to remember where you want your story to end, so that you aren’t struggling to tie your ending into the rest of the story.
The second tip when it comes to writing endings is to not rush your ending. You don’t want to rush through writing the end of your story because it can cause you to write an unfulfilling or anti-climactic ending. It could be helpful to step away from your story and give yourself some time to think about where you want your story to go and what you want to happen, and it could even be helpful to jot down ideas and circle back to them later with a clear head.
Third, when writing the end of the story, you should make sure that everything the main character goes through and learns is for a reason. The main character should perform some sort of action that leads to the end, not just some miraculous solution that solves all of their problems.
The fourth tip is to consider the imagery and language that you use. Language and imagery are very powerful things that when used correctly can help bring your story to life. You should use imagery and language throughout the entirety of the story to slightly hint at the outcome of the story without spoiling the ending. This helps add more depth to your story and can even add to the perspective of the characters and what they are going through.
Fifth, when writing your ending, circle back to the beginning. As you are trying to figure out your ending, reread the beginning of the story to try and make sure that the feel of the story is cohesive. Rereading the beginning of the story can also help you remember what inspired the story in the first place and remind you of your initial vision.
Sixth, it could be helpful to experiment with different endings. If you are struggling with how to end your story, write down a variety of different possible endings, and then you can go back and see which ending would connect the best with your story.
Seventh, consider the timeline and structure of your story. Make sure that your story has an understandable timeline that is easy to keep track of. At the end of your story, it can be good to consider using a flash forward. This flash forward can help give good insight into the lives of the characters and how the events of the story have shaped them as people.
Eighth, you should continuously revise your work. When writing a story, every word that you use matters, so you want to read through your story and make sure that everything written depicts what you want it to. If what you have written doesn’t correctly depict the ending how you want it to, then you can continuously revise and rewrite the ending until you are happy with where it ends.
Another thing that you should take into consideration when writing the ending of your story is the emotional impact that you want your story to have on its readers. You want the end of your story to match the tone of the rest of your story, and the emotional levels of story endings effect the outcome of the story. A sweet ending ends with the characters all getting what they want and need, while in a semi-sweet ending, the characters only get what they need but not what the want. In a bittersweet ending the characters get only what they want but not what they need, and in a bitter ending, the characters get neither. It is important to remember that your endings don’t always have to be neat and happy, just like real life nothing is perfect.
Works Cited
Cohen, Garnett K. "7 Tips for Writing Effective Endings to Short Stories." Writer's Digest, 1 Nov. 2023, https://www.writersdigest.com/write-better-fiction/7-tips-for-writing-effective-endings-to-short-stories.
Daeus. "8 Ways to Write a Perfect Ending." Kingdom Pen, https://kingdompen.org/8-ways-to-write-a-perfect-ending/.
Jenkins, Jerry B. "How to End a Story: 3 Secrets to Writing a Captivating Ending." Jerry Jenkins | Proven Writing Tips, 26 Jan. 2025, https://jerryjenkins.com/how-to-end-a-story/.
Weiland, K.M. "Troubleshooting Your Story's Ending." Helping Writers Become Authors, 20 May 2024, https://www.helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com/troubleshooting-your-storys-ending/.
Reflections on Editing
Colt Carroll
Reviewing Submissions
This year, we read almost 200 submissions from students of CSU Pueblo and PCC and accepted 82 of those submissions for the journal (We thank everyone for taking that jump of sharing their unique realities and personal journeys with us.). This was my greatest memory, to see how different people approached similar stories or themes and picked their brains apart in the process. It was a blast to see the prologue to no doubt great writers months or years down the line, even in the stories we unfortunately did not accept or couldn’t accept due to Tempered Steel submission requirements.
A fair number of submissions stalemated the editorial department, submissions we were simply unsure of or submissions that a few editors batted the hell out of for: some even prevailing! These trials always varied for me, as it’s never fun to be outvoted or feel drowned out on works you believe are worthy of Tempered Steel that others just don’t understand. But I recall these moments making the room become more alive and, in a way, forcing my peers to act human: to express how they think when reviewing work and why they approve certain pieces instead of me being in a room of checkmarks and X’s. I appreciated how these interactions made the editors honest and, by proxy, Tempered Steel honest.
End Product
Three months of hard work, deliberating on a couple hundred submissions from all genres with the hidden irrational fear of “Will we succeed in time? Will it be enough?” all became worth it after seeing a mock product of issue 34 of Tempered Steel and to feel that tangible success in your hands. It’s incredible to see it physically for all to consume knowing that you had a hand in its creation.
***
The Firing Squad: Rejection
Haley Newman
There’s a reason executioners wear masks. The need for anonymity in the carrying out of a terrible act is obvious. But this need applies to small-scale acts as well, a lesson that became quite clear to the editorial staff of Tempered Steel once we finished reading all of this year's submissions and began the process of sending out rejection letters. Suddenly, the weight of our responsibility was keenly felt, and no one wanted the consequences of our collective choices to fall solely on any one person’s head. Better to wear the mask of collective anonymity as we loaded the muskets of rejection:
While we appreciate the effort - pow!
Just not a good fit - boom!
Try again next year - blammo!
In our attempts to craft the perfect rejection letter, we quickly realized that even the lightest of slaps is still a slap, which is not the way we wanted people to feel after having the cojones or ovarios to submit in the first place. In this way, the delicate balance of language and thought that writing always consists of felt especially fraught. What words could we choose to soften the axe blow lopping off the head of people’s ambition?
The answer was, of course, that there are no magic words that will appeal to everyone, universally. For us to worry so much about a problem that was inherently unsolvable was folly to begin with. No matter how delicate, how sensitive we tried to be, we realized that someone, somewhere, was going to feel crushed. No matter what. We came to this realization throughout the semester as we shared our own rejection stories, how we all had fallen victim to picking apart even the gentlest of rejections, searching for any crumb of insincerity to hang our disappointment and hurt on.
Though we obviously could relate, it doesn’t set aside that, in this case, we were the ones doing the rejecting this time around. I know we didn’t achieve the perfectly neutral and uplifting rejection letter we aimed for. I know this. But it’s my hope, a hope shared with all my fellow editors, that those who received our rejections take to heart the words we saw fit to include with absolute sincerity. Keep trying, submit again next year, do not give up. Because you never know when the next response you receive will start with, congratulations instead of, put on the blindfold.
***
Editing Tempered Steel: Teamwork
Patience Gwardyak
I was drawn to Magazine Editing and Publishing because I was curious about what I could learn to prepare for the future. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but once I was in the thick of it, I learned about the complexities of publishing through organizing the 2025 edition of Tempered Steel, but the most important thing I learned is that teamwork makes the dream work.
The process of publishing a literary journal is a communal effort. My colleagues and I spent several months working hard to bring Tempered Steel into the hands of its readers. We divided and conquered to review all 199 submissions, which were then divided into a list of acceptances and rejections. It was then our duty to read through each accepted submission and find a home for it among the others. The accepted literary and art pieces were printed on paper, closely examined, and divided into folders based on format (flash fiction, art, poetry, fiction, non-fiction, etc.) The theme and message behind each piece were considered as we laid out the prints in the best order. We did this to ensure each piece was a perfect segue into the next. While the optics were sometimes chaotic, the organization team found joy in working alongside each other. Everyone left the experience with a newfound appreciation for community and teamwork!
While putting together a literary journal can be challenging, seeing the finished product serves as a reminder of why it’s worth it, along with the memories and friendships formed along the way!
***
Open Your Mouth: On Writing
Marika Guthrie
Open your mouth. Go ahead, open it. You’re alone. Look over your shoulder if you need to reassure yourself. See, no one here.
Take your fingers off your keyboard or lay your pen down if you’re that type. Slide your hands into your lap. Trap them between your thighs. Hold them there. Resist those urges. Open your mouth.
Are you nervous? That’s alright. Everyone is the first time they try it.
Open your mouth. Open your mouth and read your writing out loud. Start at the beginning. Take it slow. See if you can make the words stroll. See if you can make them strut. You have got to open your mouth and read your writing out loud.
Push that lyrical verse down the sidewalk in heels. Did it trip? Did it stumble? Did it get a stiletto caught in the storm drain? Grab that thesaurus. Finger carefully through the pages. Find another word. Something taller. Something slinkier. Something that rolls off the tongue, hips swinging on to somewhere new taking you along with it. You won’t know unless you open your mouth and read your writing out loud.
Does your descriptive metaphor hit below the belt? Light a cigarette with a match laid on the concrete? Pick a fight with a stranger? Or does it slump over exhausted against a stop sign, its backbone a limp line of cliche? Is it on its back, eyes blank, dead against a curb? You won’t know, useless you open your mouth and read your writing out loud.
You’re alone. Go ahead. Look over your shoulder if that makes you feel more at ease. No one is watching you. No one can see. But rest assured that your writing will tell on you if you don’t read your work out loud. If you don’t open your mouth… everyone will know.
***
Originality in Writing
Matthew Twigg
There is a recent sentiment that “originality is dead” and that “everything has already been done before.” I believe we can lean into this, to the point that the end result is unique. If you’re ever stuck while creating something new, you can take pieces from your inspirations and Frankenstein them together, creating an amalgam that takes on a life and name of its own.
For example with my piece “Dullahan’s Ride,” published in the 2025 Edition of our Tempered Steel magazine, I took inspiration from the various myths of the Dullahan (Headless Horseman) in Irish mythology, Irish history for the setting, the classic trope of a character obsessed with avoiding death, and the trope of the higher class abusing their use of power for personal ends. Each of those things individually are not original, but when you combine each together, the results are new and hopefully interesting.
Another aspect to focus on is adding a unique twist to something unoriginal. For example, author Brandon Sanderson made a high fantasy world with all the usual aspects, but instead of the typical “chosen-one-must-fight-the-dark lord-premise,” he asked, “What if the dark lord won, the chosen one had failed, and someone else needed to pick up the pieces?” Now readers are left with an interesting world or a premise seldom seen. Combine these with a unique hard magic system and strong characters and we get the best-seller Mistborn that stands above the rest.
So we should take advantage of the old stories and use them to breathe life into new work. The footsteps of giants cannot be filled, but we can add our own to their path. We should not lament when faced with the common struggle of the author to will something new into the world, for there is endless inspiration to draw from because of those giants of old.
***
Story Structure and Form: The Ups, Downs, and All Around of Writing a Story
Janaya Cox
Remember in middle school, maybe even elementary school, when we were taught about Freytag’s Pyramid with the man climbing the mountain and coming back down? Simple, easy, traditional, but universal? Nope, sorry to tell you but that English teacher lied to you (most likely not maliciously).
Let’s go into a few different story structures, shall we? Orson Scott Card, a science fiction writer, helps explain four structures that are prevalent in novels:
The Milieu Story
Start when your character arrives and end when they leave (or stay, it’s your story)
Milieu: the physical or social setting in which something occurs or develops: environment ("Milieu")
Think of Gulliver’s Travels and Wizard of Oz
The Idea Story
Begin as close as possible to the question and end once the question has been answered
The process of seeking and discovering new information
Mystery novels; speculative fiction
The Character Story
It begins when the character becomes so unhappy, impatient, or angry in their present role they change it; it ends with either change or not
Focuses on the transformation of a character’s role in the communities that matter most to them, centers on the character’s character
To Kill a Mockingbird
The Event Story
The story starts when the main character is involved with the struggle and ends when the new order is established, the old order restored, or chaos ensues
Something is wrong with the fabric of the universe; the world is out of order
The Lord of the Rings, Beowulf, and Dune
As you can see, there are a lot of different structures; a simple google image search will show you a multitude of different ones: Freytag’s Pyramid, Save the Cat, the Snowflake Method, Overcoming the Monster, and so on and so forth. Bottom line, there’s a lot. Looking at feminist literary critics, like poet Eloise Klein Healy, the traditional rising action to climax to falling action “sounds suspiciously like male sexual response. Which is not, she notes, the only way to satisfy a reader” (Carpenter).
You are the author, meaning you have the power to do whatever you would like. The important thing to note is that traditional structures work; they are tried and true, but they can also be boring. Be creative, try something different, or make something new. It may not work, or it might be sensational; nobody will know unless you write it.
Works Cited
Card, Orson Scott. “The 4 story structures that dominate novels.” Writer’s Digest, 24 Aug. 2010, www.Writersdigest.com/improve- my-writing/4-story-structures-that-dominate-novels. Accessed 12 Nov. 2024.
Carpenter, Courtney. “Questioning the traditional story structure.” Writer’s Digest, 4 Oct. 2012, www.Writersdigest.com/improve-
my-writing/questioning-the-traditional-story-structure. Accessed 13 Nov. 2024.
Jauss, David. Words Overflown by Stars: Creative Writing Instruction and Insight from the Vermont College of Fine Arts M.F.A. Program. Writers Digest Books, 2009.
“Milieu.” Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/milieu. Accessed 23 Apr. 2025.
***
Five Pieces of Advice for New Submitters
James Rice
So, you want to submit your work for publication?
Well then, I’m proud of you.
Seriously, whether this is a passion of yours honed over the years or something new that you decided to dip your toe into, you’ve now joined the hallowed halls of critical thinking and flourishing imagination that is literature.
But before I wax too poetic, I would like to offer you this simple list of five tactics every new submitter needs to hone as they send pieces off for publication consideration.
Now, let us get straight to the point.
1. When submitting a pack of poetry (or anything with multiple pieces), don’t do what I did and name it “6 Poem Packet.” About twenty other people will have the same idea, and it makes processing submissions difficult. On top of that, your collection should have a strong name that draws in the editors. X amount of X thing as a name is kinda boring, dontcha think?
2. NEVER include your name on the actual document of the piece you submit, unless the submission guidelines ask you to. It is imperative that editors remain impartial and dropping names on documents can sometimes be an immediate disqualification.
3. If you wrote a longer piece, consider including the word count on the document toward the top. Some editors don’t have stamina to read long pieces after processing handfuls of other submissions for the day. There’s nothing worse than hitting that point, reading another long piece, then finding out it was over the word count. Also, though I personally consider this next point unethical, I’ve seen editors who use “feeling” to decide your piece is too long - adding the word count can combat that apathy.
4. Train yourself to realize repeated rejection often means your piece either needs work or a new audience. Like any other industry, writers and their writings are legion. That tower will inevitably need to be filtered into lenses – find the one where yours fits by submitting with regularity and diversity. (Just do me a favor and make sure you read the directions on a call for submissions – don’t be that person who sends a horror piece into a sunny lit magazine).
5. Most importantly – read your work out loud and check for mistakes at least twice before submitting (don’t groan either; you can do it). It’s a great technique for making sure your own voice is present. Tone and flow are always paramount in good writing and editors will read inconsistencies in them about a half a second before giving your piece a mercy killing. No one wants this. And I assure you, if you have established good tone in a piece, your message will eventually find the right audience.
Now go get to work and good luck.