The Place For My Writers Notes

Original Posting Jan. 11, 2017

Writer's Digest, January 1996, pages 35 to 37, have a short article by Darrell Schweitzer with the title "Finding Your Short Story's… True Beginning." The focus here is on finding the right place to start your story. Darrell starts out with the proverbial Western writer's advice, "Shoot the sheriff on the first page." He adds "The science-fiction version may involve denting the sheriff's carapace, but it's pretty much the same." However, a common problem for stories is starting in the wrong place. So how do you tell where the beginning of the story is?

Well, Darrell suggests starting with Krazy Kat! Ignatz Mouse, in that old comic strip, kept throwing bricks at Krazy Kat to get her attention. So... you got it! "The story starts when your character gets hit in the head with a brick."

Not a long description of who the character is, a history of the world, or even what daily life is like. Short stories start "when the protagonist's life is disrupted. When the routine changes. When something extraordinary manifests itself."

Often, this is just a very obvious change. However, some stories do start with a description of routine, showing what life is like before the interruption. Why? It depends on the theme. But even there, it's kept tight. Basically, the archetype is:

"Routinely, Harold Hero went through the motions of his life, doing what he always did. And then, one day…"

Conflict. Get to it quickly. "So, to begin a story, think of the hurled brick: the intrusion, the disruption, the sudden explosion of conflict that yanks your character out of his daily routine, the extraordinary happenstance that gives him a story worth telling."

Now, a short story means everything needs to do multiple tasks. In fact, along with that brick, we need to introduce the tone, the emotional flavor. We need to present a point of view, how are we seeing the brick. And don't forget the setting! Along with some characters. So we're looking at:

1. Introduction. Who is the narrator, what's the point of view?
2. The hook, something unusual to get our attention.
3. Premise. A hint about what's coming.
4. Tone. What kind of a story is this? What emotional strings are going to be played?
5. Conflict. Internal, external, what's wrong?

So, if your beginning doesn't seem to have what you need, where should you look? Well, Darrell suggests looking at your ending. "All too often, the amateur story stops where the professional one starts." That's right, that climax might be the best place to start!

Darrell has an exercise to check this. Write a sequel! Suppose all the characters know and take for granted what happened in the original story. But now they are going on. Write that story. Don't build up to an idea, use that as the beginning.

And don't forget to throw a few bricks.

All right? WRITE!
tink

Original posting 30 November 2009

If you're crunching out the last words of nanowrimo, don't bother reading this yet. Just sit down and write, write, write.

On the other hand, you may have gone over that target and be relaxing, or maybe you're reading this after the end of nanowrimo. Or maybe you looked at your pile of words and that looming deadline and target and just said the heck with it, I'm not going to get there, so I give up. In any case, one way or another, you're looking at the last of Nanowrimo 2009. November 2009, National Novel Writing Month 2009, a chance to write 50,000 words in one month -- or at least to try it, to think about it, to consider the challenge of that kind of a goal.

No matter what you did or didn't do this month, stop at this point and think about it. Take some time to reflect on what you did. If you've written a great big pile of words, you may be starting to think about finishing it up, going back and editing, and that sort of follow-up. But before you start cranking on that, take a few minutes to think about how you feel about it, and what you learned from it, and what you'd like to take away from Nanowrimo 2009. Go back over the month, take a look at your writing, take a look inside yourself.

Maybe you discovered that crunching out like this, grinding out 2000 or 3000 words a day, or maybe doing the write all day marathon sprints, maybe you found that really felt good. If you did, you may want to schedule more free writing sessions for yourself, or maybe make an appointment with yourself to spend Saturdays just crunching out words. That's OK.

Maybe you discovered that you really wanted more planning and outlining, more direction for your own writing. Great. Take the time and build your own support structure the way that you like it.

Maybe you discovered that this kind of crunching out words without really thinking through each and every one was very frustrating for you? After a few days, you gave up. You went back to polishing each sentence, slowly working through each paragraph, developing the characters, the setting, the structure of the story. That's good too! Now you know that you don't want to set high quotas and attempt to grind out the words, that you're going to produce well turned words. Quality, not quantity. And that's just fine.

It's the end of November -- and nanowrimo 2010 is just 11 months away. But that's 11 months for you to do what you want to. If you want to aim at 50,000 words a month, do it. Or maybe you want to spend December planning, with a little writing on the side, and then do another push in January? That's good too. December, clean up the gore from nanowrimo, then in January lay out the next session, and do another sprint in February? Be careful, February is short!

Or maybe you want to back off a bit, just 20,000 words a month for a while? A story a week -- six weeks, six stories?

Or focus on some other part of your writing toolkit for a little while? You've done a one-month marathon of words, pouring them out on the page. Character structure, world building settings, laying out events to build plots, editing -- there's a lot more to writing than just word counts.

Still, congratulate yourself or commiserate with yourself about your writing in November. Think about how you feel about it, and what you'd like to do next. What did you learn, what do you want to take away, what do you want to change?

Write yourself a letter.

Sometimes the end is just another beginning. That's how series get started!

 original posting 26 April 2008

Make a Scene

Fair warning, I picked up a new book recently. I think it looks interesting, so I am planning to walk through it relatively slowly with postings here. The book is called Make a Scene: Crafting a Powerful Story One Scene at a Time by Jordan E. Rosenfeld, Writer's Digest Books 2008.

In the introduction, Jordan tells us that he's going to talk about scenes. And there's a useful little two paragraph bit at the end of the introduction:

"To help you avoid tactics that could bore the reader, I leave you with this caveat: the audience is watching. Never forget this. Even though the audience isn't actually present at the moment of your writing, you should write (and especially revise) as if the reader is sitting behind your desk, awaiting your finished pages. What this means is that, if your eye is ultimately on publication, is your job to entertain and inform the reader through clear writing and powerful scenes; if you are using fancy prose or showy strategies to amuse yourself or prove something, you aren't keeping your audience in mind."

"Though it's not wise to write first drafts with the super-ego breathing its foul, critical breath down your neck, your readers should be the most precious people imaginable after your characters. You see, most readers are not writers; they don't know how hard it is to write. They have very little patience or empathy for your struggles. They just want a good story, and they will put down one that doesn't hold their interest. It's up to you to ensure that they don't lose is in your story."

Interesting point, reminding us of the audience -- the reader. I know we've talked in the past about just who is the reader and what is their role in the business of writing. We usually come down to saying that you write to yourself as reader in some ways, or at least to an idealized friend who is sitting there listening to your story, waiting to hear how it comes out. Sometimes I think they must be very patient.

But I do think Jordan reminds us of an essential touchstone for our writing -- does it entertain the reader? Keep that in mind, and damn the critics, write!

Chapter 1: Functions of a Scene

Jordan starts out by saying that what makes stories really come to life is strong and powerful scenes. Unfortunately, he tells us that there really isn't a formula for scenes -- although he does offer to tell us some of the ingredients, and let us put them together creatively and see what happens.

[Remember W. Somerset Maugham's dictum? "There are three rules for writing the novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are." But at least Jordan offers us some ingredients for baking scenes . . . er, making scenes. I'm going to put chocolate chips in mine, they are good in most things :-]

So what's a scene? "Scenes are capsules in which compelling characters undertake significant actions in a vivid and memorable way that allows the events to feel as though they are happening in real time." Jordan then provides a list of basic ingredients:

• Characters who are complex and layered, and who undergo change throughout your narrative
• A point of view through which the scenes are seen
• Memorable and significant action that feels as if it is unfolding in real time
• Meaningful, revealing dialogue when appropriate
• New plot information that advances your story and deepens characters
• Conflict and drama that tests your characters and ultimately reveals their personalities
• A rich physical setting that calls on all the senses and enables the reader to see and enter into the world you've created
• A spare amount of narrative summary or exposition

The key to this is action -- events with people acting in what seems like real time -- but well-balanced scenes include many different things.

[people doing something, spiced with talk, a few clues, conflict, and served in a fine setting? Sounds like a fine tale, doesn't it?]

Along with these basics, Jordan promises that later chapters will talk about dramatic tension, scene subtext, scene intentions, pacing, and scene length. But that is later.

Jordan also talks about the difference between show and tell in a couple of ways. First, Jordan points out that telling, aka narrating or narrative summary, is explaining. And while we need a little, we need to avoid over-explaining -- trust your reader! Second, using detailed, specific sensory clues, we help the reader build visual images in the eye of their imagination. "You want the reader to see what you describe as vividly as you see your dreams at night." Narrative summary, however, is more like someone whispering in their ear, describing what's happening. You want your reader to feel as if they are in the scene, not having someone lecture to them about it.

This chapter ends with a very short section talking about scene length. Long scenes are 15 pages or more, and usually slow down the pace, or include a lot of detailed action or dialogue. Short scenes run less than ten pages. They can make the flow feel choppy, but are good for differentiating characters, picking up the pace, and  making the reader feel the rush or urgency.

[or as the White Rabbit said, "Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end; then stop." Lewis Carroll.]

Jordan doesn't talk about the scenes that are just right, but they're probably in the range between 10 to 15 pages.

Jordan finishes his Chapter 1 with the comment that every scene needs to have a beginning, middle, and an end. The beginning is vivid, memorable, and drags the reader into the scene. Middles are where the stakes are raised, characters run into conflict, and consequences flow. Scene endings set the stage for the next scenes, leaving the reader with unforgettable feelings, tastes, or impressions. And of course, that's what the rest of part one is all about!

So that's Jordan's Chapter 1. Scenes are the building blocks of stories. They involve characters in action, doing things that feel like they are happening right in front of us. They come in long, short, and just right, sort of like the three bears' pajamas. And that's about it -- the next chapters talk about how to get the scene started, what to fill it with, and how to wrap up the loose ends.

Your assignment? How about taking a chapter in your favorite book or story, which could be one of yours, and identify at least one scene? Take a good hard look at how it starts, what happens in it, and what marks the end of the scene. How do you know that you are going from one scene to the next?

You might also want to consider the checklist:

1. Does the scene have strong characters? Do they change in the scene?
2. Is the point of view in the scene clear, and consistent?
3. Is there significant action in the scene? Does it happen in real time?
4. Is the dialogue in the scene meaningful?
5. Does the scene reveal information that moves the plot forward and deepens characters?
6. Does the scene have conflict and drama?
7. Does the scene have a strong physical setting, with all the senses engaged?
8. Does the scene avoid too much narrative summary, exposition, or information dumps?

Okay? Ready to make a scene? Or at least are you interested in seeing what else Jordan has to say about making a scene?

When we write, we let others see scenes of the mind.

Originally posted 9 August 2007

[drat, drat, I forgot to post this - sorry for the delay. Is it next week yet?]

Waddling Slowly through Plot & Structure (11)

Let's see. Somewhere in Plot & Structure by James Scott Bell? Oh yes, chapter 4, did getting your reader hooked and establishing a bond between the reader and the lead character. So it must be time for . . .

Presenting the story world! Or as Bell says, "What sort of world does your lead inhabit? Not merely the setting, though that is important. But what is life like for the lead?"

In other words, what is the life and routine that are about to become disturbed? What kind of work does the lead do? What do they want, what are they dreaming about? When they say, "there's no place like home," where do what they want to go?

Along with that, the beginning often sets the tone. This is the narrator's voice, his or her attitude, what kind of a book is this -- melodramatic action or laid-back contemplation? A mystery with a murder on every page or a romance with a kiss on every page? Serious, comic, dramatic, hard-boiled, overdone?

[We interrupt this chapter for a sidebar. Bell borrows from The 38 Most Common Fiction Writing Mistakes by Bickham the recommendation to start the story from the first sentence. Sounds simple, and yet often the story stalls with excessive description with no character or action in view, backward looks attempting to fill in the back story before actually starting the plot, or a lack of threat, with no disturbance or difficulty in sight. Get the story started!]

The next thing that the beginning does is to compel the reader to move on into the middle. An interesting lead character has a problem, a disturbance that pushes them into the middle, and the reader is dragged along. The beginning shows us the first door of no return, and the lead character walking through it. And the reader wants to know what will happen next.

But what about the information that we know the reader needs? Can't we just give him a dump of information? Just a chunk of exposition to move things along? Bell suggests that sometimes, if you keep it short, you can get away with this. The problem is that most of us don't really keep it short. In response, Bell developed three rules to help control his own expository tendencies. Here they are, although you'll need to read the book for details:

1. Act first, explain later. Always start with a character in motion, and then drop in little bits of information as necessary.
2. When you explain, use an iceberg. Give the reader the 10% that is necessary to understand what is happening, and leave 90% hidden for now.
3. Set information inside confrontation. Within intense conflict, the character can drop crucial information in front of the reader.

Skip past some examples . . .

And some exercises! Here we go.

1. Take a look at the opening chapter of your work in progress, or write one now, or even borrow one from a book that you like. What techniques do you use to grab the reader from the very first paragraph? Is there a feeling of motion? If not, try using some of the techniques from this chapter to rewrite.
2. What is the story world? Do you really know it in detail? What in your beginning gives the reader a detailed sense of it, without blocks of descriptive dump?
3. How do you introduce your lead character? What makes this character memorable? Brainstorm five possibilities for your lead character in each of the following categories:

   a.        Identification: how is the lead "like us?"
   b.        Sympathy: Jeopardy, hardship, underdog status, vulnerability
   c.        Likability: wittiness? Cares for other people?
   d.        Inner conflict: what two voices or agendas are battling inside your lead character?
   

4. What disturbs your character' s world? What change has set off ripples or waves?
5. Why is your opposition doing what they're doing? What explains the way they are acting? What aspects of their character are charming, attractive, or seductive? Remember that your villain is a hero in their own eyes.

Okay? So that is Chapter 4, all about beginnings. Frankly, I often think that we should start with the other parts of the story and then finish with the beginning. It's the hardest part of the story to get right, and probably will need the most revision, so don't sweat it too much if the first draft doesn't seem to have everything just perfect. I've seen at least one editor advise that you should spend 90% of your effort on the beginning, since that is the part that pulls the reader in - and if they don't make it past that, having a great middle and end probably won't matter. I think that's an exaggeration, but you definitely need to work on the beginning. I find that often just finding the right place to start takes a few versions and revisions.

So, let's see. We start with a LOCK: a lead character, with an objective, running into confrontations, with a knockout ending. Take the world and disturb it, then force them through the doorway of no return into the middle, and finally into another doorway of no return that leads to the ending. Wheel and deal and expand those ideas, then sort them out by looking for passion, potential, and precision. Once you get into writing the story, make sure that the beginning drags the reader in, gives them a bond with the lead character, shows them the story world, sets the tone, forces the reader on into the middle, and introduces the loyal opposition.

Write!