Have you ever driven through a neighborhood where speed bumps were installed on every block? Riding over multiple speed bumps can be a notably jarring and uncomfortable experience. Each encounter with a road hump forces you to slow down to avoid damage, resulting in a repetitive cycle of deceleration and acceleration. The passengers in your rear-view look like they are being tossed up and down, and you quickly search for an escape route from this choppy and unsettling ride.

Stories are like roads and the reader is your passenger. You want to give them a smooth ride where they can enjoy the scenery and look forward to the destination.

What you don’t want are speed bumps. They can jar the reader right out of their willing suspension of disbelief. Instead of imagining, they focus on the words, waiting for the next jolt. Keep it up and they may tell you to pull over. Hit those bumps hard enough, and they may never ride with you again.

Story speed bumps come in all shapes and sizes, but we’re going to focus on some of the most common ones we see during every submission period at DreamForge Magazine. These include: typos and grammar errors, alien names and unfamiliar words, info dumps, unconvincing dialog, inconsistent logic and illogical world building, poor pacing, overuse of cliches, unnecessary side plots, and overt messaging.

Wow, that’s a lot. I’ll try to touch on each one of those briefly and include some concise examples.

Typographical and grammatical errors. This is just what it sounds like. “The knihgt, finding a slepping draggon, he was amazed and terrifiying, but couldn't beleive his eyes at the scene.” 

If that made your head hurt, you got the point. A reasonable grasp of grammar and spelling are not optional. To give your reader a smooth ride, the manuscript must be as clean and well-crafted as possible. While there are copy editors to catch mistakes, fixing sentences like that is not their job.

Alien names and unfamiliar words. Yes, we are talking about science fiction and fantasy, but that is no excuse for poor construction. Anything that takes the reader’s attention off the page and forces them to think is a speed bump.

“Chtxilubk from Altair MMXXVI had served as an ambassador for a thousand milupajds. Their spouse, mx Chtxilubk Prime and their second spouse pq Chtxilubk Second, both wanted Chtxilubk to retire more than anything else in the world.”

It’s OK to use an alien name or an unfamiliar word here and there for effect. Unfortunately, using them in close proximity multiple times has its own effect. The reader has to stop and think about how they are going to use their internal voice in handling the weirdness. In fact, the reader is paying attention to everything but the story you are trying to tell. 

One trick is to use the alien word once and then have your characters come up with a nickname or a workaround. Chtxilubk becomes “Chick,” and the story moves on.

Info Dumps . An info dump is when the action of the story is stopped while the author explains things. Sometimes this is impossible to avoid. Most of the time, the author simply thinks they need to expound on something, or that they must explain it near the beginning of the tale, and —in both cases— it is often a jarring interruption.

“Scientists from around the globe converged with a singular, ambitious goal: to breach the centuries-old communication barrier between humans and the ocean's most enigmatic inhabitants, the whales. Dr. Eleanor Hargrove, leading the initiative, unveiled the Aquatic Linguistic Interface, a cutting-edge device purported to translate the complex sonar and vocal patterns of whales into human language. The technology, a culmination of decades of marine biology research, computational linguistics, and acoustic engineering, incorporated an intricate array of hydrophones capable of capturing the subtleties of whale song from miles away.”

Whenever possible, try to avoid all that verbiage and stay in the “experiential moment” of your character.

“Eleanor gripped the deck rails tight, fighting the nausea which rose with each cresting wave. Determined that rough seas would not keep her from testing the ALI, she fought one hand forward and threw the switch. Now all she had to do was listen and wait for the whales to sing.” 

Unconvincing Dialog. Dialog has several uses, but it is not uncommon to see it pressed to the wrong function. Dialog is not another tool for exposition and explanation. It is mainly valuable in revealing your character’s emotional state, relative power, and how they are trying to hide the truth or manipulate others.

"Shh, my pet… my love," Evelyn continued, her voice dripping with sympathy that didn't quite reach her eyes. "We should think of the family's reputation. If anyone found out..."

Thomas nodded, keeping his eyes on the soft hands enfolding his own. "What can we do?"

Evelyn smiled, a glint of triumph in her eyes as she leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. "Let me handle it. I'll make sure the right people are convinced. All I need from you, dear, is a little discretion concerning my methods."

In this example, the emotional state of each character and the power differential between them is clear. We know who has agency and who is being manipulated. In the space of a mere 90 words, the reader is likely to feel sorry for/protective of Thomas and wary of Evelyn. That’s the power of dialog.

Inconsistent Logic and Illogical World Building. This sometimes occurs when writers proceed from imagined scenes rather than working out the mechanics and background of the story beforehand. 

Take, for example, the aliens who arrive from an ocean world to unleash a deadly virus on Earth. Later, humans discover that the virus can be killed on contact with sea water. (So, you’re telling me the virus that can be destroyed on contact with saltwater comes from a saltwater world? How does that happen?)

In the manuscript, these elements may occur many pages from each other, and the most likely explanation is that the author had a wonderful scene in mind for the beginning, and later came up with a different scene for the climax without thinking back and putting the two together. 

At least, that’s what I’d like to think.

Alternatively, imagine a fantasy world where magic is accessible only to those with a direct lineage to ancient magical beings. However, as the story unfolds, characters with no such lineage begin to use magic without any change in the world's established rules. This creates a contradiction in the world's logic, and, unfortunately, makes the reader stop to wonder why.

For the record, most plot holes are exercises in inconsistent logic. For example, when you establish early in your story that the magic crystal can only be used by the pure of heart, then later have the evil Magus steal the crystal in order to use its power for evil… that is an example of inconsistent logic, and a very noticeable plot hole.

Another offshoot of this discussion is inconsistent characterization . 

Dr. Edmund Hawthorne is a staid and careful scientist. One of his students discovers an alien artifact that seems to manipulate time. When Dr. Hawthorne encounters the device for himself, his characterization shifts dramatically without justification. Previously cautious and rational, he suddenly becomes impulsive and risk-taking, deciding to use the artifact to travel back in time and alter historical events. This decision contradicts Hawthorne’s established character traits, as he is suddenly willing to disregard the potential consequences of tampering with time.

This kind of writing may circle back to my first comment about inconsistent logic. The writer envisioned two great scenes, each separated by pages and time in the author’s work life. Each was satisfying to write, but they just cannot be reconciled in the same narrative.

Poor Pacing. It doesn’t matter if you make the story move too fast or too slow, if the effect is noticeable to the reader, it’s a speed bump that knocks your audience to the curb.

Your protagonist discovers they have magical abilities, learns to master them, confronts the villain, and saves the kingdom all in a few thousand words. Rapid progression like this leaves little room for the gradual buildup of tension and stakes, let alone character development and world-building. This leaves the reader feeling disconnected from the protagonist's journey. The victories and resolutions might feel unearned, and the emotional impact of the story wanes because the pacing can’t allow for a meaningful exploration of themes and characters.

On the other side, pacing can also be too slow, with excessive descriptions and digressions. It might focus on mundane details that don’t contribute to character development or advance the plot. This can make the story feel tedious, and the reader loses interest when the narrative seems to stagnate without meaningful progression or engagement.

How do you find the middle ground? 

Balancing pacing is a whole essay unto itself. However, the most important place to start might be outlining the major points of your story structure. Can the ideas you’ve come up with reasonably fit within the word length you’re shooting for? Determine what scenes can work in the length you’re limited to and make that as riveting and spellbinding as possible.

Overuse of Clichés. In the far future, humanity has spread across the stars, encountering various alien species, and establishing a vast Galactic Federation. The protagonist, Jack Starblade, is a rugged and disillusioned ex-space marine with a troubled past. He's pulled back into action when he discovers a mysterious alien artifact on a deserted planet.

Sound familiar? 

As writers, we all fell in love with science fiction or fantasy of a certain kind, and in writing our tales there is a natural impulse to pay homage to the works we’ve loved. 

It is probably good advice to resist that impulse.

The best thing you can do for yourself and for your readers is to cultivate your own original ideas. And if you do that well, people may love it so much they’ll turn your creativity into the next generation’s cliché. What could be more awesome than that?

The Unnecessary Subplot . While most short stories don’t have the room to insert extraneous diversions, a side plot can be effective in longer narratives. They can help with character development, thematic depth, world building, and the addition of emotional variety. A well-integrated subplot can even make the climax and resolution more satisfying.

But we’re talking about speed bumps. An unnecessary subplot takes the reader off in a direction that’s both unexpected and unproductive. 

For example, if your tale revolves around the challenges of settling on an alien world, where the plot and action are centered on resource management, community building, and an encounter with aliens, then a romantic subplot where the protagonist falls in love with an AI could derail the reader’s engagement.

In this example, the pacing of the subplot is likely to be drastically different from the main plot, throwing off the tale’s natural rhythm.  The subplot will also consume considerable narrative space in exploring the unusual relationship, all of which is at odds with the main plot’s overarching themes of survival and exploration.

Side plots are not bad, per se, they simply need to be carefully integrated into the narrative in a way that strengthens the story overall. Failing that, leave them on the cutting room floor.

Over Messaging. If you have an axe to grind, please don’t think it’s going to be well received by the editor or your readers. While it’s true that good stories often have meaning and speak to the human condition, even imparting valuable lessons about life, they do so with subtlety and grace. 

An obvious screed simply will not do.

Imagine journeying along with our heroes as they arrive in the ancient city of Legendaria, known for its vast library and scholars. Here, the party rests from their journey to find the Last White Dragon and they encounter a sage named Master Aelron. The Master speaks of the importance of harmony between nature and civilization, a theme lightly touched upon earlier in the story.

Unfortunately, when Master Aelron speaks, the discourse quickly devolves into a lengthy screed where the action of the story is paused. Master Aelron, serving as the author's mouthpiece, delivers a detailed exposition on the dangers of industrialization, the destruction of natural habitats, and the moral imperative of sustainable living. This monologue spans several pages, detailing various forms of pollution, the extinction of mythical species, and the greed of fictional societies, drawing direct parallels to real-world issues. All this without advancing the plot or developing the characters (they themselves are probably bored to death by this, as the readers surely will be).

This unfortunate interlude, while reflecting the author's personal beliefs about environmental conservation, significantly slows down the narrative's pace and detracts from the main storyline. The reader, expecting a continuation of the fantasy quest, finds the action halted for an extended lecture on environmentalism.

Thematically and as an overarching effect of its narrative, your tale may impart some or all of the same meaning, but don’t stop your story for a lecture; it’s simply bad form.

No, you can’t always eliminate speed bumps, but you can keep them as low to the ground as possible. The objective is to give your readers a smooth ride, as well as let them enjoy the scenery along the way.

The lesson is to keep the reader engaged with your narrative. Stay inside the experiential moment of your characters —their life experience— as much as possible. That’s why your readers picked up your story in the first place, to experience life in a different reality, one sprung from your imagination! Don’t let them down.

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Hope is not an illusion; it's a perspective backed by engagement with the world, whatever the condition of the world may be. Like the crew of the Enterprise, we don't expect everyone to share our values, only that we will engage them with ours, and in the course of doing so, possibly, just possilby, win a better future.