On Writing: Impact character and antagonist

You can check out all my posts on writing through this link.

If you’ve been following my posts up to this point and you’ve done the necessary work, you should have ended up with a killer concept, a promising premise, and a compelling protagonist. However, that character doesn’t operate in a vacuum. The two other most important characters, that in some stories play both roles, are the impact character and the antagonist. Everyone knows about the antagonist, but the impact character is a role rarely considered explicitly. The impact character is one that challenges the protagonist’s flaw usually in a non-hostile way, like a a mentor or a lover. Thanks to the impact character, the story features an “us vs. them” perspective that it would lack otherwise.

  • Does the story present a unique central relationship between the protagonist and an impact character?
  • The impact character represents the inner conflict. Just like the antagonist, the impact character is a conflict-causer. Just like the antagonist, he’s at odds with the protagonist. But unlike the antagonist, the conflict isn’t necessarily the result of opposing goals. Rather, its core is the opposing worldviews of the protagonist and the impact character. The protagonist believes the Lie; the impact character already knows the Truth.
  • Does the hero have at least one big “I understand you” moment with a love interest or primary emotional partner?
  • How does your story involve strong opposing forces that have understandable but conflicting desires?
  • If you’re having trouble making people understand why your antagonist poses a threat, there’s something wrong with your premise and it needs to be refined.
  • How is your antagonist the character who wants the most to prevent the hero from reaching his goal?
  • How is this character the most able to attack the weakness of the hero?
  • What the opponent wants, how does it compete for the same goal as the hero?
  • What are the antagonist’s values, and how do they differ from the hero? How does he have powerful values that conflict with the hero’s?
  • Consider whether the antagonist could have the same flaw as the protagonist.
  • When you think about an antagonist, you’re likely to focus on the ways in which he’s different from your protagonist. But some of the most important aspects of your story will emerge thanks to the ways in which the antagonist and the protagonist aren’t so different at all.
  • Your protagonist and your antagonist might both have been kids who felt the sting of the societal disrespect that comes from being poor. As a result, they both believe wealth equals respect. That common ground between them creates all kinds of interesting thematic possibilities. Both the temptations your protagonist will be subjected to and the warnings (full of foreshadowing) about what he could become are rife with thematic subtext.
  • Could the external antagonist be the embodiment of what the protagonist fears most?
  • Given the protagonist’s flaw and his external goal, think about the “photo negative” quality of the antagonist’s role. Who wants the same external goal, but can reveal an opposite or cautionary aspect to the protagonist and the reader.
  • Could the antagonist’s flaw be the same as the protagonist’s, or the exact opposite?
  • Can you make a hierarchy of opponents with a number of alliances? How are they related to one another and working together to defeat the hero? How does the main opponent sit at the top of this pyramid?
  • Could the antagonist be mysterious, making more difficult to defeat? Could you make defeating him a two part task: to uncover the opponent and then defeat him?
  • In the process of creating an antagonist who wants the same goal as the hero find the deepest level of conflict between them. What is the most important thing they are fighting about? How is that the focus of the story?

On Writing: General structure – Development

You can check out all my posts on writing through this link.

Once you’ve come up with a list of meaningful plot points that should happen in your story, the Acts structure (generally three, but could be strengthened by turning it into five) is a proven method to organize those plot points in a way that makes the story more cohesive, and usually building up in tension.

The following questions may help in developing the general structure.

  • Brainstorm the specific strategies and actions your hero will take to confront and antagonistic force (villain, threat or obstacle) standing in his way.
  • Write down a summary of what your hero does in pursuit of the goal, the major campaigns and efforts and confrontations he must navigate along the path toward resolving the dramatic question.
  • What is the antagonist’s plan in each act, what maneuvers does he execute to prevent the protagonist from achieving his goal? For each global goal in each act for the protagonist there should be a counterpoint by the antagonist(s).
  • How does the story consist of a great crisis, worked out through a series of minor crises?
  • How does this story involve characters being thrown into a world that represents the opposite of everything they believe and stand for?
  • Sometimes it’s easier to think of the structure in question-and-answer form. Q: What are the worst possible consequences of Macbeth’s decision to kill the King of Scotland? A: The massed ranks of his former allies will march upon him seeking revenge. Good structure will deliver a crisis point that forces the protagonist to choose between their old and new selves.
  • The beginning sets something up. It makes something move. What is a story trying to set up? The end, of course. The key to an effective beginning is that it must contain the seeds of your future climax.
  • How could the story start at the moment the problem becomes acute?
  • How would this story’s inciting incident embody all the characteristics the protagonist lacks?
  • Do away with the overly vague concept of the “inciting incident” and replace it with three specific parts: the long-standing personal problem, the intimidating opportunity, and the unexpected conflict that arises from pursuing that opportunity. Together these form what I call “the challenge”.
  • Rather than start with a happy status quo that gets ruined by an inciting incident, most stories begin the opposite way: The hero starts out with a long-standing social problem, and the inciting incident (even if it’s something horrible) presents itself as an opportunity to solve that problem.
  • Does the hero discover an intimidating opportunity to fix the problem? Simply restoring the status quo is never a strong motivation. In real life, as a general rule, our crises are not just temporary accidents that must be undone but crucial opportunities to fix long-standing problems. To build sympathy, the opportunity should be obviously intimidating. This shouldn’t be a no-brainer decision, but to avoid losing empathy, the full size of the potential conflict should not be immediately apparent.
  • Could you make sure that the inciting incident of the story is personal enough, that it isn’t defined externally? Otherwise the heroes would merely be reacting to outside events instead of choosing to act based on their volatile personal psychology.
  • First Plot Point preliminary: a definitive reaction to the first plot point will shape your character’s arc. You know you’ve found the right First Plot Point when it drags your character out of his former complacency and puts his feet on the path toward destroying his Lie–even though he probably won’t realize that’s what’s happening and, indeed, may be actively fighting that destination. Whether he realizes it or not, he has committed himself to change, even though he may still be trying to change in the wrong way.
  • How will the First Plot Point create a new world in which the character will be “punished” for acting according to his Lie?
  • A big crash usually happens at the midpoint. Not only does this change everything in terms of the external situation, but it slams the hero into a radically new outlook. The first half of a story can often be summarized as “the easy way,” and the second half as “the hard way”.
  • How would the midpoint contain the very essence of the quality the protagonist lacks, the opposite of their initial state, the “truth” of what they’re looking for, the hidden elixir in the enemy’s cave?
  • Could you make it so by halfway through, your heroes are making it up on the fly?
  • What happens (or will happen) in the climax of the novel that will show why your concept and kicker are unique and compelling?
  • Do your story’s beginning and ending contrast each other strongly enough?
  • If your protagonist had to face the events of the Climax in the beginning of the story, would he react to them in the same way he does at the end? If he would, something is seriously wrong with your story.
  • How do you misdirect the lowest points, the cliffhangers, or even the climaxes of each act? How do you make them impossible, or at least set up events in ways that make the reader feel that the story could have gone a different way?
  • Every roadblock, every obstacle, every setback, should escalate in difficulty. Start small and keep building.
  • Write a list of unexpected changes that might occur.

On Writing: General structure – Prioritary

You can check out all my posts on writing through this link.

Once you’ve come up with a list of meaningful plot points that should happen in your story, the Acts structure (generally three, but could be strengthened by turning it into five) is a proven method to organize those plot points in a way that makes the story more cohesive, and usually building up in tension.

The following are prioritary points of a story that need to be covered in each specific act.

Act 1 (the setup)

  • Hook / Disturbance
  • What is the flaw / need of the protagonist, and how do you show it?
  • What is the inciting incident of which the turning point of the first act will be its consequence? (problem)
  • A notion about what will happen at the First Plot Point. When those two things are on the table—the concept and a First Plot Point twist—almost everything that follows, both in terms of planning and execution, happens in context to them.
    • What is the accepting of the call, the turning point that launches the desire line?
    • How is a major force of antagonism through the story revealed?

Act 2 (the confrontation)

  • Character realizes external goal
  • Display of flaw
  • Drive for goal
  • Part Two Exposition (response, journey begins)
  • Antagonist revealed
  • First Pinch Point
  • What are the forces of antagonism and how do they escalate?
  • Midpoint / Mirror Moment. Does it involve the protagonist changing toward curing his flaw?
  • Revisiting flaw
  • New drive for goal
  • Antagonist attacks
  • Second Pinch Point
  • Part Three Exposition (hero becomes proactive) / Attack
  • What is the worst possible point, the worst possible consequence of the story’s inciting incident, and that will make the climax possible? (The Second Plot Point)
  • List the plot complications of the second act, that leave the protagonist worse off than she was before.

Act 3 (the resolution)

  • Changed goal
  • Part Four Exposition (hero becomes catalyst for…)
  • What have you envisioned as the climax? Does the protagonist do something heroic? Does he solve or not the problem?
  • Ending/Resolution

Important notes:

  • Successful planning is when the mission-critical story beats—Hook, First Plot Point, First Pinch Point, Midpoint, Second Pinch Point, Second Plot Point, and the Climax scenes—have been optimized.
  • Come up with the major crises that would make the act breaks, in which MC’s flaw causes him to choose a path that’ll drive him further into trouble, until he changes by his choice at the final crisis, if he changes at all. For each of those decisions, brainstorm which could be the worst possible consequences.
  • See what dilemmas there are at the end of each act and try to make sure they are real dilemmas. No easy answers.
  • Try to come up with crisis plot points that seem impossible to come out of.
  • Define the goals for each of the acts, and make sure each successive goal is bigger than the last.
  • List every climax of every act, try to come up with events or information that would have made them completely unpredictable or impossible, and try to use them for red herrings and misdirection.
  • Make sure each successive goal in your story gets bigger. Most amateur stories start out big then fizzle. How do you prevent this? By making each successive goal for your characters bigger than the last.

On Writing: Plot point generation #4

You can check out all my posts on writing through this link.

A story is made out of meaningful stuff that happens. Each unit of meaningful stuff that happens is often referred to as a plot point. Here’s how to come up with them, before you consider fitting them into a structure.

  • What hard, horrible, impossible choices could be made in this story?
  • Brainstorm instances in which your characters must brainstorm between goods or between evils.
  • What’s the worst that could happen in the story?
  • What’s the worst thing that could happen to your main characters physically?
  • What’s the worst thing that your character could ever have to deal with emotionally?
  • How could you create greater possible losses, more collateral damage?
  • How could you steal from a main character something very important for him?
  • What wonders could you show a main character that you would then take from him?
  • How could you create higher stakes, bigger risks?
  • What can the protagonist lose that she thought was vital?
  • Everything your protagonist does can have consequences. Their actions, decisions, causes and mistakes can be leveraged for tension. Think of consequences for actions you already know the protagonist will take.
  • Brainstorm events that will illustrate on what side of thematic concepts are different characters positioned.
  • What’s the most difficult decision they could ever make – the one thing they repent for the rest of their lives?
  • What is the worst thing they could do to someone else?
  • The worst thing they could ever do to themselves?
  • Is there an opportunity for a moral argument between hero and opponent, that gives the audience a clue about what values are really at stake?
  • Is there an opportunity for the main oponent to give a moral justification for his actions?
  • Think up escalating immoral actions your hero takes that hurts someone else. How are they outgrowths of his great moral weakness?
  • What plot point could make a character question his beliefs and goals?
  • Find a point in your story at which your protagonist is stuck, stymied, undecided, overwhelmed, or in some other way suffused with inner need without having a means to move ahead.
  • Often the trouble that brews is in the form of surprising information. Brainstorm bits of information that might be delivered as a surprise.
  • Is there opportunity for circularity, using a similar event but show the protagonist making a different choice?
  • Can you set up a contrast between a character who thinks he’s being moral, supporting the beliefs of the society, and the effects of those actions and beliefs, which are decidedly immoral?

On Writing: Scenes and Sequels

You can check out all my posts on writing through this link.

Without getting into complex structuring of a story (the act-based frameworks), you could produce a compelling story relying on a couple of alternating units: Scenes and Sequels.

I first came across the notion of Scenes and Sequels in Dwight V. Swain’s Techniques of the Selling Writer, which I read back when I was obsessed with writing technique. Jack M. Bickham expanded upon Swain’s notions in the book Scene and Structure, which I also recommend. The alternation of Scenes (action-driven) and Sequels (emotionally reflective), creates a rhythm of tension and resolution. Scenes drive plot; Sequels explore consequences.

A Scene is a unit of action where the protagonist pursues an immediate objective.

Goal: The character’s concrete, short-term aim (e.g., “Find the hidden map”).

  • Why it works: goals anchor the reader and create stakes.

Conflict: Obstacles blocking the goal (e.g., a rival steals the map).

  • Key detail: conflict should escalate through active opposition, not coincidence. It should be easy to determine if the conflict is meaningful: it should hinder the stated goal.

Disaster: A negative outcome forcing adaptation (e.g., the map is destroyed).

  • Purpose: avoids static victories; ensures ongoing tension. The disaster need not be catastrophic: it might be unintended consequences (e.g., gaining the map but betraying an ally).
  • It’s important to think of a disaster instead of plain resolutions, because a story should be composed of escalating tension. Setbacks help the story maintain momentum.
  • Ideally, a Scene’s disaster answers the dramatic question proposed by the goal (e.g., “Will the protagonist find the hidden map?”) with a resounding “No.” However, there are variations: “No, and in addition…” as in not only the goal fails, but something gets even worse. The disaster could be a “Yes, but…” However, you should avoid concluding a Scene with a plain “Yes,” unless it’s only a temporary “Yes” that doesn’t let the reader know what bad stuff the disaster has triggered in the future.
  • Each disaster should ideally worsen an overarching problem.

A Sequel processes the fallout of the previous scene’s disaster, focusing on inner turmoil.

Reaction: The character’s emotional response (e.g., despair, guilt).

  • Function: humanizes characters: show vulnerability before resilience. Offers opportunity for character development, emphasizing how that character reacts in an idiosyncratic way. Developing the emotional reactions prevents the characters from appearing robotic.

Dilemma: A problem with no good options (e.g., trust a traitor or go alone?).

  • Tip: dilemmas should test the values of the character or characters involved. Offers lots of opportunity for character development.
  • Dilemmas are often used to explore the story’s thematic questions (e.g., “Does ends justify means?”).

Decision: A new plan emerges (e.g., “Find the traitor and negotiate”).

  • Critical nuance: the decision must logically lead to the next Scene’s goal.

Alternating Scenes (fast-paced) and Sequels (slower, introspective) creates rhythm. Thrillers use shorter Sequels; literary fiction may elongate them for depth. Each Sequel’s decision becomes the next Scene’s goal, creating a chain reaction. This prevents episodic storytelling. Note: a Scene can be followed by another Scene, particularly when the context is clear, but a Sequel should always be followed by a Scene.

Keeping in mind the notion of Scenes and Sequels helps enormously when outlining a story: they force you to think in terms of goals, conflict, dilemmas, and setbacks, which are the fundamentals of a satisfying story.

In addition, knowing you’re writing a Scene helps you understand when to start its narrative: as close to the statement of the goal as possible. For example, if the character wants to convince another character to do something, you can start with the first character engaging the second, without much preamble. This is generally called starting in medias res with the goal already in motion.

Scene and Sequel ensure narratives remain driven by cause-effect logic and emotional authenticity, keeping readers perpetually engaged in the “what happens next?”

On Writing: Plot point generation #3

You can check out all my posts on writing through this link.

A story is made out of meaningful stuff that happens. Each unit of meaningful stuff that happens is often referred to as a plot point. Here’s how to come up with them, before you consider fitting them into a structure.

  • Is there a test that the protagonist could go through and that he doesn’t believe he can pass? What events would it suggest?
  • What does the protagonist have to confront to solve the problem set up for him?
  • What events could come up from bringing unresolved issues to the surface?
  • How could you push your characters to the limit?
  • Find that thing that your character would rather die than do, and make them do it.
  • Characters must confront the very thing they would least like to, and confronting this thing is a kind of hell. More precisely, it is their own personal hell. But through this confrontation, they are transformed.
  • How can you make the conflicts varied and surprising?
  • Imagine situations in which internal conflict will attack severely a character.
  • Disturbances don’t have to happen just at the beginning. You can sprinkle them throughout. When in doubt about what to write next, make more trouble.
  • Come up with a long list of obstacles and opposition characters that can be thrown in the lead’s way. Go crazy. When you’ve got fifteen or twenty of these, choose the best ones and list them in order from bad to worse to worst.
  • Does the conflict force the protagonist to take action, whether it’s to rationalize it away or actually change? Imagine what would you want to avoid if you were your protagonist, and then make her face it.
  • A story’s job is to put the protagonist through tests that, even in her wildest dreams, she doesn’t think she can pass.
  • Do expose your character’s flaws, demons, and insecurities. Stories are about people who are uncomfortable, and as we know, nothing makes us more uncomfortable than change. A story is often about watching someone’s house fall around their ears, beam by beam. Besides the fact that perfection is not actually possible, things that are not falling apart are dull. It’s your job to dismantle all the places where your protagonist seeks sanctuary and to actively force him out into the cold. But a hero only becomes a hero by doing something heroic, rising to the occasion, against all odds, and confronting one’s own inner demons in the process. It’s up to you to keep your protagonist on track by making sure each external twist brings him face to face with something about himself that he’d probably rather not see.
  • Don’t forget there’s no such thing as a free lunch. This is another way of saying everything must be earned, which means that nothing can come to your protagonist easily, after all, the reader’s goal is to experience how he reacts when things go wrong. Stories can help us expand the range of options in life by testing, in small increments, how closely one can approach the brink of disaster without falling over it. This means the protagonist has to work for everything he gets, often in ways he didn’t anticipate, much harder than anything he would have signed on for. The only time things come easily is when they are the opposite of what is actually best for him.
  • For maximum conflict, always put your hero in the last place he wants to be.
  • For some great conflict, place your characters in an environment that is their opposite.
  • The scene where a character must ask for help from someone he screwed over earlier always works.
  • You gotta throw your characters in the shit. You gotta kick them. You gotta demoralize them.
  • Take a character who hates something more than anything, then put him in a situation where he must pretend to love it.
  • Take a character who desperately wants to get somewhere, then have him held up by someone who wants to talk.
  • Deliberately write your characters into situations that are impossible to get out of, then figure a way to get them out of them.
  • Place your hero in plenty of “character emergencies.” A “character emergency” is when your character is placed in a situation where he has no choice but to act.
  • What is your character good at, comfortable with? Throw the polar opposite at them. Challenge them. How do they deal?
  • Think of ways to create lots of internal conflict (hard choices).
  • Who can betray the protagonist?
  • Make your characters clash. Think of ways of doing so.
  • How would the other character(s) and the world react to what the protagonist (or other characters) are doing?
  • How could you pull the rug out from under your protagonist when he’s at his most vulnerable?
  • How do you make it harder for your protagonist? See what bad thing could happen, and let it happen. Try to make it worse than he imagined it could possibly be, worse than you imagined it could be at first blush.
  • Look for conflict that flows from the plot, and that comes down to character, to character motivations, goals and reactions.

On audio mastering #2

Last month I wrote a post about the art of mastering a song by adjusting its frequency bands through carefully analyzing the spectrogram, something I had never bothered to figure out before. Here’s that post.

Although I haven’t produced any new songs with Udio, because I’m trying to finish a novella I’ve been working on for seven goddamn months, I’m halfway through remastering the third volume of Odes to My Triceratops, which are a bunch of concept albums about a triceratops. I’ve changed how I master audio in subtle but powerful ways, so read on if you give a shit about this stuff.

  1. Download the WAV file of the song from the Udio interface.
  2. Open the original WAV in Audacity.
  3. Normalize both channels at -1db.
  4. Export it as a 24-bit/192KHz WAV stereo file. I read somewhere that you shouldn’t try to master audio using a WAV file of lower quality, and never ever using an MP3, which are compressed to begin with.
  5. Forget about Audacity and open a better audio editing program. I use iZotope RX 10, which is perfect for my purposes. Load the recently exported WAV file.
  6. Modify the EQ based on good base values (you can look up some and save it as a preset). Ensure that it comes with a high-pass filter at 30hz (roll off 24 db); apparently the human ear doesn’t hear anything below that frequency, so you’d just be leaving pointless data in.
  7. Normalize at -1db.
  8. Don’t bother with compression, multiband or not; I’ve come to believe that applying compression to a song is a crutch, because you can achieve similar but far better results by adjusting the individual frequency bands.
  9. Apply an azimuth operation on the song. It equalizes the volume of both channels and ensures that they are in sync, in case the audio came with some unsightly delay due to poor handling of mics. That won’t happen with Udio songs, but you might as well do so. However, blindly azimuth-ing a song can bite you in the ass: some parts of the song might only sound on one channel for artistic reasons, so ensure that you relisten to the whole thing afterwards. If the azimuth operation clearly shouldn’t have been applied to a specific segment of the song, revert the operation and only apply it to the rest of the song.
  10. Normalize at -1db.
  11. Now comes the fun part: messing around with frequency bands. iZotope RX allows you to set six manipulation points along the whole frequency spectrum. You should put each manipulation point smack in the middle of the following frequency ranges (you can prepare these manipulation points and save the set as a preset):
    • Bass (60-250 Hz)
    • Low Mids (250-500 Hz)
    • Midrange (500 Hz – 2 kHz)
    • Upper Midrange (2 kHz – 6 kHz)
    • Presence (6 kHz – 10 kHz)
    • Brilliance (10 kHz – 20 kHz)
  12. Go to your favorite part of the song and EQ each frequency band one by one, raising and lowering its volume little by little as you listen on your absolute best headphones. I own a pair of $400 noise-canceling headphones by Sony which do a fantastic job of isolating me from this horrid world.
  13. Notes on what raising or lowering each frequency band affects:
    • Bass (60-250 Hz): mostly the punch of drums, as well as similar instruments. I usually want them punchy, but it can distort the vocals if you go too high.
    • Low Mids (250-500 Hz): this is an interesting frequency band: too low and the voices and instruments will sound tinny, too high and the song will sound like mud. It features the “body” of many instruments.
    • Midrange (500 Hz – 2 kHz): mainly voices and guitar-like instruments.
    • Upper Midrange (2 kHz – 6 kHz): most of percussion that isn’t too bassy. This one is very easy to EQ for the entire song: raise and lower this frequency band until the pitch of the drums sounds right. If you raise it too high, some singers’ “S” sounds will hurt your ears.
    • Presence (6 kHz – 10 kHz): high lingering sounds like hi-hats, cymbals, and such. You can rarely raise or lower this much without altering the pitch of other percussion instruments, so I suggest very narrow frequency range manipulations in this range.
    • Brilliance (10 kHz – 20 kHz): this one is a bit hard to describe. Some call it “air,” similar to the sound your thumb and index finger make when you rub them together. It provides interesting details. A base EQ should likely raise this by about 8db. If you raise it further, it will likely screw with the pitch of the drums.
  14. Apply the EQ changes you prepared for your favorite part to the entire song. Particularly when working with Udio songs, it’s rare that the rest of the song requires very different EQ levels than your preferred part, so your changes act as a great new baseline.
  15. Go through each part of the song and apply individual changes to their frequency bands depending on that part’s needs: sometimes a segment should be more bassy, or the midrange be 3db higher because the guitar won’t sound as good otherwise, etc. However, ensure that you don’t screw up the transitions between the different segments of the song. This can easily happen if you raise the upper frequencies too much in one segment in comparison with the adjacent ones.
  16. When you’re happy with the state of the entire song, revise its spectrogram focusing on “instrument or vocal stripes” (not sure what to call them) that are either too white (meaning too loud in comparison to the rest of the spectrum) or not white enough (are buried in the mix).
  17. If you spot instrument stripes that are isolated between frequency bands, and that aren’t affected much by raising or lowering those manipulation points, hover your cursor over that line to figure out what frequency it’s located at. Then, move one manipulation point to that frequency and pinch the range of frequencies the manipulation will affect by scrolling with your mouse. This is a fantastic operation that I recently discovered. It that allows you to bring attention to isolated, perhaps even buried instruments like cowbell, ankle rattlers, tambourine, etc.
    • For example, in the images seen after this list, that solid strip in the “presence” frequency band is located at the 8100 Hz frequency, and is some sort of fancy percussion instrument. If you attempt to bring it further to the surface with a general manipulation point, you’ll distort the pitch of the drums.
    • Thankfully, in the EQ editor, as seen in the following picture, and as said before, you can narrow the breadth of the affected frequency range by scrolling with the mouse.
  18. Normalize at -1db.
  19. Change the viewer from spectrogram to waveform. See those spikes in the corresponding image? Those spiky fuckers will be the bane of your life. A single protruding spike in the waveform will prevent the song from normalizing correctly, as it will adjust to the loudest millisecond of sound. I doubt that using some “limiter” operation is a good idea here, because you will shear part of the sound. I just carefully zoom into those parts, select the spike, and reduce its volume level with the Gain tool. You will likely need to do this dozens of times as you adjust the volume of the song.
  20. Use the clip gain tool, as seen in the corresponding image further down below, to properly raise or lower the volume of certain parts of the song. It’s usually a good idea to match the volume levels of all the song parts, but some do seem to need to sound lower. It’s a matter of taste.
  21. Finally, normalize at -1db.

Images for point 17:

Image for point 19:

Image for point 20:

Anyway, I hope this post helped if you’re also embarked on the marvellous journey of mastering songs. And if not, well, screw you.