The Place For My Writers Notes

Original Posting 25 Jan 2010

Writers Digest, August 2008, page 71-72 have an article by Steve Almond with the title, "Background." It starts out with the little story that follows...

"Years ago I served as a teaching assistant in a fiction class. The instructor was a sweet grouch with a penchant for dogma. One day, someone asked if there was anything the narrator had to reveal on page one. He sighed deeply. 'The narrator should tell the reader everything he needs to know in the first sentence.'"

Steve goes on to explain that the teacher emphasized that we should know who the protagonist is, where we are, and what the situation is.

Steve reminds us that he believes the Hippocratic oath of writing is: never confuse the reader. And when we thrust a reader into a story without the facts, we're confusing them!

He gives an example of a student story that starts out:

I can remember the first time I saw her It was hard to miss her that night.

When you read that, you want to know who the speaker is, who she is, where they are, and what makes her hard to miss, at least. Steve says that in the student's story, all that information was much later in the story. His suggested rewrite started out:

The first time I saw Tammy Feldman was at Deke's Sadie Hawkins bash. She was wearing a plaid mini and doing shots off my girlfriend's belly.

What do you think? Is the rewrite clearer? One thing I notice is that we still don't know who "I" am, but...

Here's another beginning. What do you think about it?

His shirt was red and his knuckles were warped and there was broken glass under his feet. He could hear shouting. He headed for the road that would take him back to her.

Guess what? This is about a protagonist who gets into a bar fight and heads for refuge with an old girlfriend. Did you guess that?

But you don't want to bury the beginning in background details, right? So which ones do you use?

Steve suggests a simple rule of thumb -- make sure the reader knows at least as much as your protagonist. In that last example, the hero knows he's in a bar, he's had a fight that made his shirt bloody, and that he's trying to escape. So let the reader know that, too.

Give the reader the facts that create the emotional significance of the scene...and they'll go right along with you.

So why do we hide information? Uncertainty -- we (the writers) aren't sure where to start, and then don't go back and revise. Insecurity -- we may try to create curiosity by hiding facts, but it isn't what happens that makes a story interesting, it's the how and the why. Arrogance -- sometimes writers think it is beneath them to explain to their readers. But if you're not writing for the reader, who are you writing for?

Steve's final paragraph...

"Readers are by nature generous creatures. They come to a story, or a novel, eager to lose themselves in an imagined world. This requires that they attach themselves to the fate of one or more characters. But this empathic bond can only occur if authors share with us -- as soon as possible -- the specific fears and desires of their creations."

Make sure your first sentence has enough background to let the readers dive in.

Write?

Hum. Over here, http://www.sfnovelists.com/2009/08/26/finding-my-way-in/ Stephanie Burgis and others talk about where you start? What crystallizes the story, what precipitates it, what makes it come to life and start running away with your writing?

Stephanie says it's voice. A character talking to her. Not concept, not setting, some one steps out of the mists, and ... here we go.

Others talk about a character and a situation -- a scene, perhaps? Or a line of dialog. Or worldbuilding. A "what if" idea. And...

Character. Plot. Story Question. Or...

What kicks you into the story? What makes a story come to life for your writing?

Original posting 9 May 2009

Writers' Digest, October 2004, pages 26 to 33, has a collection of short "nuggets of wisdom" related to getting published. Maria Schneider is the author of the compilation. Take a deep breath, and here we go:

"No matter who your subject is, the article needs a strong opening. My wife, a textile designer, has taught me that to make a basket, the first weaves must be very tight, or the finished basket will have a hole in the bottom. Likewise, you need to make your opening lines taut to capture the reader." Lawrence Grobel

Interesting. Writing as weaving a basket? That we catch the reader in? Now if we stretch that metaphor just a bit, we might bring in the monkey with their fist caught in the basket because they won't let go of the nut? Of course, there's all the various shapes, sizes, and weaves of baskets, and the wide variety of materials that can be used to make one.

I kind of like tight lines as an opening, rather than the simple hook'em if you can. Keep those lines tight, and weave the magic of the story?

Odd that the quote starts with "who your subject is," isn't it? Perhaps this was from an article about writing non-fiction? Biographies or something like that?

Still, weaving the words. Something nice in that notion.

Original posting 29 March 2009

Over here http://www.sfnovelists.com/2009/03/03/beginning-again/

They're discussing how to get started on novels. And down near the end (11) Kelly McCullough offers a description of how Tim Powers apparently likes to start books. It goes something like this:

I'm not going to start today, but let's open the document and just put together 10 practice sentences that could open the book when I do start.

That was easy, wasn't it? How about picking out the 3 best and expanding them into paragraphs? Just as an exercise.

You know, as long as things are moving along, why not get a sample page ready showing one way to start? So pick the best of those three and expand it again.

Wow, that looks pretty good. Now that you're committed, why not use that as the start of your book and keep going?

Not a bad idea, eh?

Original posting 13 July 2008

TECH: Make a Scene #12: The First Scene

We're about to start into Part Three Scene Types of Make a Scene by Jordan Rosenfeld. In case you're just coming in, we've already gone through the functions of a scene, including a mixed salad of complex characters, a point of view, memorable and significant action, meaningful dialogue, plot information that advances the story and enriches the characters, conflict and drama, a rich physical setting, and a bit of narrative summary here and there. We've talked about launching the scene, complicating the middle and raising the stakes, and scene endings full of emotional weight.

Then we looked at an array of core elements, including setting, senses, character development and motivation, plot, subtext, dramatic tension, and scene intentions. Which brings us up to date as we plunge ahead into the first scene.

The first scene opens the significant situation of your plot. It has to introduce your plot in the form of the significant situation, introduce the protagonist, establish the setting and evoke the senses, and set up dramatic tensions that suggest complications and conflicts ahead. The best first scenes have an air of mystery, pose a question or problem that needs an answer, or plunge the protagonist into a crisis. Through action and plot information, the first scene needs to compel the reader to keep reading without getting confused without backstory or narrative summary.

"Your significant situation should happen within the first couple of paragraphs. If you force the reader to wait too long for the event that they hope is coming, you stand to lose them before ever getting to it." Where does your first scene start? In media res, in the middle of the action, or at least so close to it that you fall into it immediately. Or should I say the protagonist, the main character, falls into it, dragging the reader along with them?

Successful first scenes involve:

• a significant situation that challenges the status quo of the protagonist
• a catalyst with whom the protagonist interacts
• a quick introduction to the immediate intentions of the protagonist
• a glimpse of the personal history and personality of the protagonist, suggesting motivation
• a decision or action by the protagonist that leads immediately to more complications

So how do the core elements stack up in the first scene? I'm glad you asked, because Rosenfeld has some answers.

-- unless setting is a dramatic part of the significant situation, keep the setting light and suggestive. Subtle details, not great swatches of descriptive prose, no matter how much fun they may be for the writer. Sometimes you can unbalance normal expectations with an unexpected significant situation in a familiar setting, so that the setting and the action play off each other.

-- subtext and dramatic tension. Don't overdo, suit it to your readers and the genre. Set your tone, and suggest the plot direction and themes. The first scene should make the readers worry about the protagonist -- raise the dramatic tension by showing that things can go wrong. Then keep the potential for conflict and consequences open.

-- the pace of the first scene should match the emotional content. Typically they start with a bit of an emotional bang, simply because you want to let the reader know what is happening. First scenes usually move fairly quickly, with actions and introductions to get the reader hooked. Later you can slow down and fill things in.

(Interesting. Rosenfeld didn't run down the whole list of core elements. And I don't exactly recollect pace being in his list of core elements. Oh, well, consistency is a hobgoblin, right? Onward!)

Ending the first scene. Leave the reader with the feeling that trouble, conflict, crises, or a dilemma has only just begun, and you help the reader move on into the next scene. Four ways to do this are [1] to leave the consequences unresolved (the police have just found the protagonist standing over a dead body -- do you want to know what happens next?); [2] end the scene before a major decision by the character, or possibly just after a bad decision; [3] let your protagonist find out something disturbing that could change everything (you mean you've been working for the CIA all these years?); and [4] let your protagonist react without thinking through the significant situation, so that the reaction makes everything more complicated.

Rosenfeld's checklist for first scenes

1. Are the protagonist and the significant situation introduced immediately and clearly?
2. Does the pace match the emotional content?
3. Do thematic images foreshadow the outcome?
4. Does the setting unbalance reader's expectations? Does it play against the significant situation?
5. Keep the pace. Too much exposition or description slows things down, while long passages of dialogue or action may push too fast.
6. Does the scene end with the protagonist in trouble or at least uncertain?

Next, suspense scenes.

The fun part here is to take something you've been writing or a book that you are reading and look at the first scene. How well does Rosenfeld's prescription work? Are there things that you want to change in the scene? Are there parts of Rosenfeld's guidelines that just aren't quite right for you? Go ahead, put this description of a first scene and the pieces and parts to work. See how well it works for you, and make the changes that you need to make.

The thrill of creative effort grows from the mud of spelling and grammar.

Original posting 1 December 2007

Oh, that looks like it could be fun.

I was reading James Maxey's essay at http://jamesmaxey.blogspot.com/2007/11/stories-are-made-out-of-scenes-scenes.html (first of five about his five things he's learned about writing). A good thoughtful piece about scenes and nouns, which you might want to peruse in your spare time. But . . .

Down near the end, he's got an exercise. First, take four "generic" nouns and punch them up. The four he suggests are "man, woman, building, city." Replace with more specific, evocative knowns, and then see what kind of scene or story they suggest. E.g., "Cop, nurse, Superdome, New Orleans" hints at something. Or perhaps "Shuttle pilot, astronaut, launch pad, Cape Canaveral" light your rockets? (Isn't that Cape Kennedy now?)

I also thought his list of starting surprises was interesting. E.g. there was a shark in the kitchen, a skull on the coffee table, a lion in the laundromat, or a giant lizard reading to a kindergarten class - any one of those juxtapositions of the sinister or strange with the mundane gets the brain going and makes the reader want to find out what's going on.

I'm going to be at a conference this week - general chair for the first day's thisworkshop, then attending, so may be a bit quiet. But this gives me something to do during those long conference meetings this week, perhaps? Specify nouns or surprise contrasts, then sketch the results - and smile, that's the end of his talk?

So - write, write, write!

Let's see. Writers Digest June 2004 has a page and a half selection from someone's submission, along with a critique by G. Miki Hayden on pages 54-55. We won't bother with the submission, but the critique is kind of interesting.

"The main contribution the first few pages of any novel must make is to hook the reader. So often, as writers, we focus on developing our characters were being splashy, when, really, at this point, we have to ask ourselves what effect our writing will have on our audience. Have we provoked a question that needs to be answered?"

The heading on this first section is called "Set out the Bait." That's the critical question. "Readers must have a strong need to know what happens next." You need to entice, reach out and grab the reader, make them want to keep reading. Being smooth, clever, interesting dialogue, nice description and so forth is good, but somewhere you need to set that hook, to get the reader involved.

Hayden's second point concerns using flashbacks in the early story. Hayden says, "Flashbacks can have a kind of dead or irrelevant quality about them. They aren't immediate and don't incite a reader's emotion in the way a current (past tense, of course) scene will do. ? Any backstory injected for development early on mustn't stop the forward motion dead in its tracks."

Hayden suggests that the regurgitation of past incidents may come from authors trying to show too much. Sometimes motivation, explanations for action or emotions, and similar background really doesn't need to be shown to the reader in detail. Don't get lost on the side trips, at least until the reader knows where the main action is going.

Third point concerned the setting. This particular story was in a small city, Midwest setting. Unfortunately, it could've been any small town or city anywhere in the world. While Hayden doesn't recommend encyclopedic descriptions, there need to be some details that help us realize that this is a unique town and unique characters. Instead of looking down the street and seeing people, policeman, firemen, the character needs to look down the street and see Helen Winters wearing a flowered hat even in the middle of winter. Or something else that gives us the essence of this town, this city, and the people who live there. Not anytown, but yourtown!

Since this story was a mystery, the other pieces of information that need to be there are the clues, the trappings of the genre that let the fans know you are going to play square with them. So there are two kinds of information that should be there. Information that the readers need, and information that the readers of the genre expect. Make sure there are enough bits to give the readers the setting and characters and genre, and no more!

Finally, Hayden talks about how to rewrite the beginning. The first question is whether we've picked the best point of departure. Think about the alternatives, think about whether starting a little earlier or later would work better. Do we have reasons to be interested in the characters, and to keep reading? Hayden suggests that one of the best tools for rewriting is a sharp scalpel, and that we excise anything that doesn't contribute to the story.

"While details helped to build pictures in the reader's mind and make the characters and story real and concrete, painting in a sentence or two with key elements can be worth more than several paragraphs that detract or distract from the actual plot line. The balance here may be a fine one, but such an equilibrium between blabbing too much and establishing a foundation is worth seeking."

So there you have it. From the titles of the sections: set out the bait; don't stop the progression; give them the info; and how to rewrite. Four suggestions about points to look at when you're working on the beginning of your story. Make sure you get the reader interested, avoid distractions, put in the details that need to be there, and don't be afraid to rewrite.

Write!
tink

original posting: Sat, 2 Oct 1993 18:00:04 JST

FAQ: First Lines

The poet frowned, fingers posed as words swirled in his mind, almost but not quite right for this part of the glowing vision. Just then, the doorbell rang...

The factory seemed to come alive in the fitful dance of moonbeams through the cloudy overcast. Dark shadows lurked and stretched, making her glance up again and again to be sure the silent machines weren't moving, weren't reaching metallic fingers out to catch her. Then she glanced back...

Every day, the quotes changed. Read and passed by quickly, a ritual of inattention. Then one day, eyes locked to the short saying. The world seemed focused on the brief lines. It was...

A dark and stormy night folded over the tiny figures, exploding out of their inner storms into startled reality. As one angry mouth opened, lightning cracked. As another mumbled and glared, hard driven rain stuttered across them. Then...

The wheat was a golden carpet, embossed patterns revealed by the occasional light wind, the heavy heads glowing in the sunshine with their promise of food. The smell of hot, rich earth and baking yellow stems was a subtle perfume, pulling the farmers to their daily chores, sinking the land in a celebration of growth and peace. Those were golden days...

The Z-nine fighters spread out ahead of the flotilla, exploring and testing for danger with electronic senses. They swept over and past the small asteroid...

She stopped at a small inn below the castle, surprised by the ancient relic set in the foothills. The innkeeper told her it had no name, and suggested that there were far better places for an American tourist, places with guided tours and giftshops. She thought about it for a moment, remembering the crowds and Marley. Then she looked at the rocky pile lit by the evening sun...

(pssst! want to know how these and other stories end? want to write poems and tales of wonder or glee? Stick around. Writers has a place for you...)

First lines to last, rewriting, markets, poetry - put your own work out on display on Writers. We can make beautiful words together!

original posting: Tue, 29 Aug 2000 21:17:01 -0400

A quick (and possibly quirky) one...

Often TV shows, movies, and even the occasional short story or book will start the scene (after a romantic interlude, beating in the alley, or whatever) with a character waking up, stretching, showering, going to breakfast, etc. without any immediate indication of how we got from there to now (although there may be clues -- that sudden grin at the mirror, for example, or the pained look at some kind of bruise).

So -- something happened last night.  You decide what it was, from the mundane to the extreme (a dragon set up residence in the chimney?  all right, but you have to explain it!).  Don't tell us, but make sure you know the backstory that leads up to...

The scene starts with the character waking up.  Take us through the morning, with the occasional odd clue that something is different today (that draft of flame out of the fireplace?  well, it certainly got the pot boiling, didn't it?)

And then the point where you explain what happened, where you let the reader in on the mystery.  By then, of course, you have some other hooks into them to keep them reading and reading and reading...

Write!

original posting: Fri, 06 Oct 2000 23:45:59 -0400

Okay, a little harried, but consider this one...

First, pick something that you don't like, or are actively afraid of.  Ants? Spiders?  That ugly oily slick that tried to absorb you that summer?  Tigers?  The grinding gears of the sausage machine, that inexorable gnashing, clashing, crunching?

Second, list some of the pieces of that which really bother you.  Maybe it's the itty bitty legs on the ants?  Or the smell?  The way the gears seem to vanish into each other?

Third, walk through your fear, slowly and carefully.  Do you sweat?  Does your mouth turn dry?  Shaky knees?  Quivering fingers?  Hair stand up on your arm as the goosepimples tighten?

Fourth, translate!  Suppose that instead of the little ants, the blanket on your bed acquired some of those characteristics?  The beady little eyes on your vest?  Or maybe the bath water decides to act as if it were that oily slick?  What if the car engine decided to grind, and crunch, and gnash?

Write up that scene, where your character confronts your fear, embodied as another.  When the graveyard begins to grin like the tiger...

Write!