mbarker: (Me typing?)
[personal profile] mbarker
Original Posting 2022/3/12
Hi, all. I noticed in my to be read pile I had this intriguing little tome. It's the Novelist's Essential Guide to Crafting Scenes by Raymond Obstfeld, and I think I'll walk through it, and share my notes with you. So... let's get started!

Chapter 1 is entitled What a scene is - and isn't. He starts out by reminding us that when we think of a movie (or any story) we generally don't remember the whole thing. No, we focus on moments, little pieces. Scenes, by any other name!

So what's a scene? Well, in theater, it means action in a single setting. In fiction, we tend to use the same rule, but... you could write a more complex scene spanning multiple settings. So what defines a scene? Raymond says it is the focus, the purpose. He suggests these are common purposes:
- giving the reader information needed to further plot
- Show the conflict between characters
- Highlight some specific trait or action to develop a particular character
- Creating suspense
Often, scenes combine these purposes. So, the writer needs to know why the scene exists and makes it memorable to justify it.

Memorable? Something needs to surprise the reader! Readers have expectations about the scenes, and you need to play with those expectations. Make the scene unexpected! Fresh dialog, an unusual situation, or maybe just wonderful style?

However... Raymond points out that while you want to make your scene do all this when it's finished, sometimes you need to just dive in and start writing. Then go back and make it wonderful.

Then Raymond reminds us that good writing often depends on misdirection, on keeping the reader interested in one thing while you slide some other goodies in where they aren't looking.

He finishes this chapter with a note that scenes are part of a bigger work, and need to be considered in how they contribute to that, too...

And for fun, he gives us a little workshop to finish the chapter. Basically, suppose you have a scene, and you are trying to decide if it belongs in your story or not. Well, fill in one of these four sentences.

1. Plot. The purpose of this scene is (finish the sentence!)
2. Character. When the reader finishes this scene, he should feel (finish it!)
3. Theme. When the reader finishes this scene, he should think ???
4. Suspense. When the reader finishes this scene, he should wonder (what?)

If you can't fill in one of these, what is that scene doing there?
There you go! Chapter one done, and 14 more to go! 
mbarker: (ISeeYou2)
[personal profile] mbarker
Original Posting Oct. 16, 2017

Wait a minute? What happened to 04? Well, we're slipping closer and closer to the deadline (October 20? That's this FRIDAY! Get those stories and poems going!) so I decided to skip ahead...

William F. Nolan's How to Write Horror Fiction, Chapter 5. has the memorable title Don't Open That Door!

Suspense! But how do you create and maintain suspense? Well, anticipation. Something is behind that door, down those stairs, out there… And the reader wants that confrontation, but they also know the protagonists really shouldn't go there. Don't open that door!

Words and phrases, a mood… Gets built.

"One primary method of creating suspense is to set up your threat early in the book." Earlier deaths, horrors, bad things happen… And now, here comes your favorite naïve protagonist, about to walk into it.

Make the outcome uncertain. Twists, surprises, what is going to happen next? "The threat cannot be false. It must pay off, and this means you must show your monster in action." Chew up a minor character, drops of blood here and there.

"Setting your beleaguered protagonist to battle a series of dangerous obstacles is another method that can be used to create suspense."

And of course, the horrible thing behind the door.

Don't forget isolation. Dark and stormy nights, alone in the graveyard, what's a person going to do? Isolation makes most of us vulnerable.

Darkness, of course, is when ghoulies and goblins and things come out to bite.

Make the monster real. Your protagonist, your characters, everyone finally needs to believe in the monster. They should start out skeptical, but then… Wait a minute. It really is a werewolf chewing on my shoe.

"Finally, then, suspense is the pulse of life beneath the flesh of your story. The tell-tale heart of horror."

There you go. Something relaxing for the Halloween... what, you don't think opening the door is a good idea? Well, we'll just peek around it....

AAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGHHH!

slurp.

And it all begins again.

Write?
tink


mbarker: (Smile)
[personal profile] mbarker
Original Posting Aug. 19, 2017

Writer's Digest, March 1999, on pages 30-33 and page 52, have an article by William J. Reynolds with the title Keeping Them in Suspense. All about how to build a page turner.

Reynolds starts out by posing the challenge that you want your readers to say, "I've gotta know." That's the essence of suspense. And to keep them turning pages, you want suspense. Compelling characters, plausible plot, intriguing subplots, richly evoked settings, appealing writing… Yes, you want those too. But suspense is what gives fiction that kick.

Now, he suggests you start by setting up three different sizes of suspense, just like soft drinks: small, medium, and large. Watch out for supersize? Anyway, most stories include all three sizes in different places. Maybe start with some small suspense, I wonder what is really going on. Then add some mortal danger, and get to medium-sized suspense. And build to large-sized suspense, who is this masked man? And, you might have a supersize twist.

Next, Reynolds suggests you plan a roller coaster ride. Waves of suspense! Start slow, build to a peak, drop, build again, drop, and so forth. Give your readers a bit of a breather, some release, interim resolutions.

But where does suspense come from? Well, what is the obvious source? Plot. But sometimes suspense grows out of the characters, too. Their actions and reactions, their motivations. "So suspenseful elements in the plot generate suspenseful episodes that grow out of the characters' personalities." And how the characters respond or react drives forward the plot, generating new suspenseful episodes to which our characters must react." Even the place – setting – may contribute suspense. Earthquakes, bandits, weather, all of these things can add suspense.

And, you need to keep track of your pace. Your style of writing, the viewpoint, the words and the way you use them, all can build suspense. Long, slow passages turn into short, telegraphic bursts.

And the last page – well, the resolution of your story – is a key part of the suspense. Watch out for inadvertently leaving your reader hanging on the edge of a cliff, you do want to resolve events satisfactorily. Not necessarily everything. And you do want the end to come quickly after the climactic shock. A few loose ends is not a problem. Give us a satisfactory conclusion, logical, perfectly in keeping with everything that's gone before. Then don't blunt it.

"Most important, we finally found out what we've gotta know."

Stop.

Practice? Take that work in progress, and go over it, looking at the suspense. Do you have some questions that the reader has just gotta know about right from the start? Do they build, and get resolved, and build again? If you've got some sections where there's no suspense, add a dash. And make sure that when we get that resolution, we don't spend too long hanging around trying to tie up every little loose end. Mostly...

WRITE!
tink


[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Original Posting 27 March 2012

And another moldy clipping from Writer's Digest!

Writer's Digest, April 1994, pages 31-33 had an article by Billie Sue Mosiman with the title, "Keep Your Readers in Suspense." It starts out with a little paragraph where Billie Sue said, "I'm going to tell you one of the secrets of selling your fiction..."

And right there, you have an example of one technique of suspense. Get the reader to form a mental question. Secrets, and the promise of revealing them, are a great way to get the reader involved and build suspense. Of course, when you make that promise, you need to live up to it.

A lot of people think of suspense as creaking doors or other hints of horror, but wow it's a common and simple way to build suspense, it's only one way.

"If a character in your book has information or a secret that your protagonist desperately needs to know, that creates suspense. Suspense is an expectation. The writer delays giving out the information the reader needs."

What happens when you show something about to happen to one character, and then switch to another viewpoint and character? Of course, the reader wants to find out what happened to the first character. That's suspense.

Anticipation, mystery, unexplained actions. Billie Sue suggests one way to think of suspense is like a wave. It starts with foreshadowing an event, like the wave building up out at sea. Then the stakes are raised and tension rises, just like a wave rolling closer to shore, growing larger. Next, in the moment before the climax, the wave hits a peak and almost seems to stand still. Then the climax hits, as the wave crashes on the shore. Then in the lull between the scenes of suspense, the wave slips back out to sea to build up again. Depending on what kind of a novel or story you're writing, you might change the pace of the waves, and the lulls in between crashes. But you're probably going to still have have some waves, even at low tide, with the sea low and quiet.

Be careful about misdirecting or distracting the reader without a good reason. You don't want your reader to feel manipulated.

How will the hero escape? Will the evil monster, boss, whatever destroy everything that the protagonist loves? Is romance enough? Most of the time the question you want your readers asking is how will this be resolved. What's going to happen next? That's suspense.

Make sure that you keep your promises, and give readers the information they want. Also, make the protagonist struggle -- the reader needs to worry about them.

"If the reader has nothing to find out, nothing to anticipate, be anxious over or expect, he won't read at all."

So make the reader asked questions, anticipate what's going to happen, and then answer the questions, provide information, show that hero dealing with dangers and threats. Just don't leave them...

Billie Sue ended her column with "There is just one more very important secret I think you should know..."

Cliffhangers. And in our next thrilling episode...

Write, and don't forget the suspense! Keep the reader waiting, just a little bit more?
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Hum. Over here at
http://johndbrown.com/writers/

John Brown shares some of his thinking about writing. It's kind of interesting, and since I'm trying to ignore my back right now (this has been a holiday week, and somewhere in the process, I did something that has caused my lower back to get upset. But I'm trying to ignore it, hoping that it will settle down again soon... so...)

In the meantime, let's take a look at what John Brown thinks about creating suspense for a reader, in regards to the problem. Now, from the top page, John reminds us that writing really isn't about a bunch of rules. Writing is about story. And the point of story, what you're trying to do, is make something happen in a reader. What do you think that is?

Yes! Bonus points to the fellow in the back who yelled out, "Suspense!" Right you are. Readers want to feel suspense. And in the pages on problem, character, plot, and structure, John talks about what conditions make the reader feel suspense.

At which point, we should take a look at how problem and suspense interact, right? Right! So over here
http://johndbrown.com/2010/10/the-key-conditions-for-reader-suspense-part-1-problem/

John talks about that. He gives an example -- starting with a man turning on his sprinklers. Boring! But... add in a little action in the background, with an intruder pointing a gun at the man's daughter, and threatening something... and pretty soon, there's some real suspense there. What's going to happen?

John looks at stories, and points out that what we really want is to feel hope and fear for the character. Curiosity, sympathy, worry... and that wonderful cathartic release when we find out what happens. It's not really action, explosions, chases, and so forth in the text that does the job. It's something that happens in the reader. Dramatic tension can happen in a very quiet scene, IF the reader is worried about the character.

Okay. So how do we get dramatic tension? Basically, we want to hope and fear for a character. We want to feel as if something might happen, and feel tension about the possibilities. So there are really four ingredients: a character that we like, uncertainty about what will happen, hope for desirable outcomes, and fear for undesirable outcomes. Pretty simple, really. Give us someone that we empathize with, and put them in a situation where we don't know what will happen.

So what kind of problems do we throw at our character?

John Brown suggests that there are three main types of problems in stories that he likes.
1. Danger/Threat. Something poses a significant threat to the character's happiness. We hope that the character will avoid or overcome the threat, but we fear they may not. What kind of threat? Well, life, security/well-being, relationships, meaningfulness, freedom, and possessions are obvious things that could be threatened. Take a look at John's page for more details, he describes each of these. Basically, though, someone or something threatens some aspect of the character's life. Plenty of stories focus on what happens when things go wrong, and can the character handle it?

2. Lack/opportunity. With a danger or threat, someone or something is going to take away something important to the character. Lack and opportunity problems are the other side of this -- the character has never had money, a chance, happiness... and now they might! Rags to riches, Cinderella, there are lots of stories that use this kind of problem. We like to watch someone struggled to achieve their happiness.

3. Mystery. This is a little more intellectual problem -- the puzzle, the mystery, the challenge to our curiosity. Here, the character acts as our surrogate, trying to solve the mystery. Fairly often, there are some other problems -- threats or lacks -- also involved.
Now. One of the filters for good stories is that the problems need to be hard to solve. To build the fear, worry, and uncertainty, the problem needs to be significant and hard to solve. The character has to really work to win!

John suggests that there are four things that make a problem really urgent. Basically, we want it to seem probable -- not a long shot. Very often, stories show us several people failing, and then the main character tries. We also want it to be immediate -- something that's going to happen soon. Time limits, ticking clocks, really help to make the problem urgent. Third, it needs to be significant. The mugger who wants two bucks for coffee at Starbucks -- hey, toss it to him and go on. But the robber who wants every penny of your life savings? Ah, now that's serious. Make the threat significant (other discussions often talk about raising the stakes). Finally, the problem needs to be specific. Sure, generic drugs are cheaper, but for your story, you want specific, detailed problems. Make the threat specific and tied to the character.

Okay? So you've got a problem, and you've sharpened it up so that we know it seems probable, immediate, significant, and specific. What about uncertainty? What makes things uncertain? A hard problem, limits on the characters, interference from other problems and desires... and surprises! Revelations, twists, turns. Don't let the reader go to sleep. Think about what they expect, then give it a twist. Surprise us

All right? That's a summary of John Brown's discussion of suspense and the story problem. To make the story really sizzle, look closely at the problem. It needs to be a hard problem, whether it's a threat or lack or mystery, and it needs to be urgent, because it seems likely, has a time limit that is soon, involves high stackes, and has the details that we love! Then make sure there are enough twists and turns to keep us reading.

Dramatic tension -- a reader in suspense is worth two cliffhangers?
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Original posting 22 December 2008

I warned you! Now, it's time for a moldy article from Writers Digest, February 2005. Pages 20 and 21 are the column Fiction Essentials by James Scott Bell, and in this issue, he's highlighting the three secrets of suspense. Wouldn't you like to know what they are?
"What happens next? When you're writing a novel, that's the question you want in your readers' minds all the time. That's what keeps them flipping pages long into the night. That's suspense. And every novel needs it."
What do you think suspense is? Well, Bell starts out by telling us that "suspense in fiction is a feeling of pleasurable uncertainty." When we don't know what is going to happen -- although we may have suspicions -- and we really want to find out -- that's suspense!

Kind of like waiting for the three secrets of suspense :-) So without further ado, here they are!

1. The Death Threat

"The best suspense is about death." Physical death in various variations -- serial killer, villain, malevolent conspiracy -- death abounds. However, professional death -- loss of work or livelihood -- also works. Or psychological death, the inner death that results from not having a reason to go on living, not dealing with dark secrets from the past, not healing.
"Here is the key to creating a convincing threat to your character's life, whether it's physical, professional, or psychological: Include scenes early in your novel that explicitly show what the central problem means to your protagonist. Get your readers to feel what's at stake from the very beginning of the story."
When death in one guise or another awaits the character, we have to keep reading.

2. The Sympathetic Protagonist

"No matter what kind of danger is present, if readers don't care about your protagonist, they still won't worry much about what happens. To really care about your story, readers need to feel sympathy for its lead character." So what makes readers sympathize with -- feel emotionally bound with -- the hero?

First, a well-rounded character, with flaws and strengths. Neither perfection nor complete failures are terribly interesting. Second, guts -- make the hero active. Third, characters who care about someone else are more sympathetic than self-centered egotists.

3. Scene Tension

"Every scene in your novel should have tension, whether that comes from outright conflict or inner emotional turmoil." Outside tension comes from the character having a goal that matters to him or her and significant opposition to achieving it. Most scenes end with the character failing. Even success comes with a cost. I've seen it described recently as "yes, but..." Yes, we succeeded, but now there's a bigger problem! As for failure, that usually is "no, and furthermore..." Not only did we fail, but we're further away than before. Even relatively quiet scenes can have inner tension -- growing worried, concerned, irritability, anxiety.
"So put a sympathetic character into a life-or-death situation and maintain tension in all your scenes. You'll create the pleasurable uncertainty that readers love to feel, page after page."
Check your story against this checklist:
  1. Do you have a sympathetic protagonist?
  2. Are they facing life-or-death problems?
  3. Does every scene maintain the tension?
Your exercise -- take a character, imagine a situation that faces them with a life-or-death challenge, and make a list of at least three scenes where they try to solve the challenge, and fail. Go ahead and write those up -- if you add a beginning and ending, you'll have a whole short story.

No ideas? How about pick a number from one to six? And you have selected the
following situation:
  1. A building on fire, with people calling for help
  2. An automobile accident, with people pinned inside
  3. A building collapsing, with people trapped inside
  4. A train wreck, with people hurt
  5. A snow storm, with the power out, and people needing help
  6. A boat drifting, with engines out, and people looking for help
Go ahead -- walk your character into that situation, and let them try to help.
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Original posting 17 August 2008

Chapter 17: Action Scenes

(continuing our series from Make A Scene by Jordan Rosenfeld)

Hollywood has taught us to think of action as larger-than-life last-minute escapades. However, small personal actions still count. Action scenes rely on some kind of physical movement in a space or context of the writer's creation, with a sense of time passing. Readers feel as if they are participating in action when:
  1. Events unfold in real time, so that the reader feels as if they are participating in the events
  2. The pace is rapid, and there is some kind of physical movement
  3. The protagonist makes quick decisions or reactions, depending on instinct more than intellect
  4. Unexpected consequences raise the dramatic tension
Act first, think later. When the protagonist is caught by surprise, forcing reactions. That's what action scenes are all about. They feel fast and intense. Usually the action is unexpected or surprising. They match well with suspense scenes, epiphanies or contemplative scenes. Readers do sometimes skim through them, so don't expect slow detailed reading. Just like the protagonist, the reader wants to find out what happens, so they aren't going to read slowly and carefully.

Opening action scenes. Most of the scene will be unfolding or exploding action. Even if you want to start slow, think about getting to the action soon.

In medias res - start in the middle of the action -- is a standard recommendation, and works well. Readers have to keep reading to figure out what is going on. Make sure that the reader can follow the essential action, that they know what is going on even if they don't know why or how it will be resolved.

Open with foreshadowing. Small actions or narrative summary that hints at the coming action are sometimes useful. Keep it short, keep the hints subtle, and let the action take over as soon as possible. Be very careful not to make the action an anti-climax by removing the surprise or sizzle.

Character development and plot in the action scene? Action is one way to show the true nature of characters. Every scene needs to involve characters in interaction, reaction, and change, but action scenes force the character to actually walk the talk, acting out their true beliefs. Don't forget that characters can make mistakes, especially in action. Push your characters to discover unexpected facets of themselves through actions. Make sure that the actions are serious, that they can't be undone, so that the character has to face the consequences.

Ending the action scenes. There are lots of ways to end the action. No matter how you do it, though, make sure that the action has changed the protagonist, and that there are consequences that the protagonist will have to deal with. Most of the endings slow down the pace and offer a chance for reflection, increase the tension and suspense so that the reader has to keep going, or end with a bang, a revelation that changes the characters and the plot.

Slow it down. A little bit of exposition or reflection, quietly slowing down the pace, and often ending in a foreshadowing image.

The cliffhanger or suspense ending. Don't stop, run the action right out to the edge and leave the reader turning the pages for the next step. Just delay the conclusion of the action.

A revelation that changes everything. At the very end of the scene, reveal the consequences of the action to the reader and the protagonist. One trick here is that the revelation often is an emotional high point -- action scenes often do not have much emotional impact, but the revelation can change to.

And Rosenfeld's checklist for action scenes:
  1. Is the focus of the protagonist on reaction, instinct instead of thought?
  2. Is there physical movement that conveys a sense of time?
  3. Is there less reflective or emotional content -- keep punching!
  4. Does the action change the protagonist and the plot?
  5. Do the actions produce consequences for future scenes?
Coming up, we have flashback, epiphany, climactic, and final scenes. But for right now, let's set Rosenfeld aside and consider your very own action scene.

First, of course, you might want to take an action scene apart. Admittedly, we all know them from movies and TV, but dig one out of a novel, and see how it works. How did they start it? How do they keep the action moving and realistic? And how did they end it?

Second, think about writing an action scene of your very own. Where would an action scene make more sense than dialogue? Are you going for the high action of the movies and television or for somewhat smaller tramping around the campsite, rafting down the river, or doing something else that doesn't involve car chases, explosions, and other special effects? How do you start the scene, how do you keep it realistic, and how do you finish it? I still remember reading someone's little battle scene and asking them to walk through the action, because I couldn't figure out how the characters were positioned. We ended up talking about doing a paper chart and actually having the characters move across the chart -- and discovered that at least one character was indeed popping from place to place in a rather incredible way. I won't say that the scene was great after we reworked it, but at least people looked the right direction and so forth.

You might take some simple actions -- getting in the car and turning it on, getting a cup of coffee or tea, buying a newspaper -- and write those scenes up as practice. It can be surprisingly difficult to get the character into the right position, get the keys out of his pocket, and actually turn on the engine. Then consider showing us that the character is happy, upset, or otherwise trying to deal with emotions in the middle of the action.

I think action scenes often are considered pretty simple. But selecting the right parts of the actions to suit your story, and providing enough details without going overboard or without simply sliding over the action, is more difficult than it may appear. Action scenes are some of the bread-and-butter basics for writers, and you might as well practice writing them. You need to be able to convincingly convey that these characters are doing something right now.

So, write!

(or should that be plots, characters, actions! Write that scene?)

The writer's job is to help readers see what's happening now in the center ring -- of your story.
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Original posting 21 July 2008

TECH: Make a Scene #13: Suspense Scenes

[continuing the series on Make a Scene by Jordan Rosenfeld]

What do you think will happen next? That's the real question behind suspense. Rosenfeld suggests that suspense is a state of uncertainty producing anxiety. And you know, it doesn't matter whether we're waiting for something good to happen or something bad to happen, the reader is still hanging on the edge of the precipice. And the longer you as writer delay the outcome of the scene, the more your readers will enjoy it. So which scenes are suspense scenes?
1. The protagonist starts out in trouble or quickly gets mired in danger
2. Emotional, physical, or spiritual stakes for the character get more complicated
3. Emotional intensity increases and does not let up
4. Events or characters exert pressure on the protagonist to change or to act in some way
Suspense scenes add emotional zip, raise the emotional ante, and complicate things. They're often used after descriptive, contemplative scenes or dialogue driven scenes that mostly give out plot information. They act as a counter, getting the reader and the protagonist excited and out of their comfort zone. They are also fast scenes that push your reader to keep reading, so they can sometimes be good lead-ins to revelations. Oddly enough, suspense scenes are usually relatively slow paced, focusing on details. The agony of waiting for resolution is what makes it seem fast. Don't rush it, you want to give the reader time to worry.

The opening of the suspense scene should make the reader worry about the protagonist. The protagonist doesn't have to be hanging over the edge yet, but he can certainly be glancing at it. Or you might want to simply have the protagonist picking up some details that aren't quite right -- who left their muddy shoes on the porch?
  • introduce a catalyst or antagonist with intentions that the protagonist does not trust
  • let a character or event threatened or pressure the protagonist who resists
  • let your protagonist under pressure react or do something that causes unexpected conflict
Mood, setting, sensory details -- these are what really build the suspense scene. Don't overdo it (remember the pathetic fallacy, wherein the weather always reflects the protagonists feelings). But select details and words that show the reader that something is wrong.
  • dramatic weather can threaten the characters, block their achievements, or simply complicate everything
  • decay or other evidence of damage makes readers wonder if the protagonist will end up in the same shape
  • color and light -- there is a reason that bad things happen in the dark -- it's scary!
  • eerie touches can certainly add to the picture
Raising the stakes. When the character's fate changes or new complications come in, a suspense scene can dramatize the new directions.

Strange or surprising actions that challenge the normality and expectations of the protagonists and the reader can push suspense. The confusion of this unexpected action raises the pressure and anxiety.

Ending a suspense scene. You need to finish the action and give the reader a pause. This might be a reflection by the protagonists, or maybe some other kind of pause. You need to let the reader take a breath. Another way is to run the scene right out into a cliffhanger. If you do this, pick it up in the next scene.

Note that even thrillers usually don't have all suspense scenes. You need to give the reader a break.

Rosenfeld's key points about suspense scenes
1. Does the scene open in an uneasy or anxiety provoking way?
2. Does the protagonist quickly get into trouble?
3. Is there enough emotional intensity in the scene?
4. Do events or an antagonist put pressure on the protagonist through opposition?
5. Is gratification delayed? Are conclusions to scene events postponed, and are the intentions of characters blocked?
6. Does the scene's end break the suspense or are we left hanging?
So that is Chapter 13. Suspense, getting the hero in trouble and letting them stew.

Incidentally, I think such scenes are a kind of staple for every writer. Thriller, adventure, mystery, romance, science fiction -- maybe if you're writing nonfiction you don't need to write suspense scenes, but I'm not sure about that. So we really need to practice these, setting up the structure and doing it. Can you think of any kind of fiction that doesn't need at least some suspense scenes?

An exercise? Well, these are staples for TV, so how about taking a look at a TV show and picking out a suspense scene? Perhaps the car chase or race somewhere (don't all TV shows have one of those?). Or some other scene that makes you bite your fingernails? How did it start, and what about it makes you worry and fret? Now think about how you might produce similar effects in a written scene. You don't have the background muzak to help, but you have plenty of other tools. So . . .

Write!

The writer's job is to help readers see the invisible -- or at least worry that it's coming.
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Original posting 3 July 2008

Ch. 10: Dramatic Tension

Aha! Bet you thought I forgot, didn't you? No, just delayed by the rageous slings and arrows of life. And if you think there is no such word, well, what are we comparing outrageous to? Inrageous or just plain rageous? (Which reminds me of the joke about lasses, but we probably don't need to tell that here :-)

Anyway, on with the show! In case anyone has lost track, we're talking about the book Make A Scene by Jordan Rosenfeld. And we're at chapter 10, where Jordan talks about dramatic tension. He starts out by offering us a kind of visual analogy for dramatic tension. Imagine, if you will, two strong men having a tug-of-war with a rope over a pit full of snakes. First one man gets the advantage and pulls the other to the brink of the pit, teetering, almost falling in. Then the other man gets the advantage and yanks his opponent right to the edge. Back and forth they battle, with the dramatic tension cranked to the max.

Dramatic tension, then, is the potential for conflict to happen in a scene. When trouble is brewing, when the resolution balances on the edge of a page, the reader is psychologically and perhaps even physically tense, waiting to find out what happens. And that keeps them reading.

Isn't that suspense? Jordan says that suspense comes when information is withhold from the reader (so the reader doesn't know what is happening), while dramatic tension relies on the reader knowing something is happening, although not exactly when and how. Suspense is not knowing what's around the corner, while dramatic tension comes from hearing or seeing something coming and not knowing how the protagonist will get out of the way. Tension, then, keeps the reader waiting, hoping that the protagonist will somehow escape the scene alive, and maybe one step closer to achieving his goal.

[psst? If you have a clearer example or explanation of the difference between suspense and dramatic tension, I think we'd all love to hear it. This is one place where Jordan seems a bit skimpy in his explanation]

Dramatic tension is a core element. That means every scene needs some. It can be a prickly worry about where the killer is now, or an unsettling dialogue, but it needs to be there.

Tension helps make scenes bigger than life -- more intense, more unusual, and more dramatic. Trouble, or at least the potential for trouble, lurks in every scene. Let your characters feel uncertain, scared, and lost as they listen to the scratching at the door, hoping that it's just a cat and yet knowing that it could be... their nightmare.

To create dramatic tension Jordan recommends:
  • Frustrate your protagonist. Delay their achieving goals.
  • Include unexpected changes without immediate explanations
  • shift power here and there
  • blow things up. Toss in grenades of plot information that change the protagonist, his self-image, or his view of the world in significant ways.
  • use setting and senses to create a tense background feeling
On the Expository Side

Beware exposition or narrative summary. You need some to tie things together and get the reader set for the key moments of the scene, but too much bores readers.

And time passed. Most narratives don't try to show every moment. There are key moments that you must dramatize, and blocks of time that you can just drop out of the story. And there are some chunks that you will want to summarize with a dab of narrative summary. By condensing time carefully, you help to keep the dramatic tension high.

Similarly, condense necessary background information. Include elements that are likely to make the reader worry a bit about the protagonist or suggest things that are a little odd, compulsive, or potentially troublesome. Give readers a taste or insights into your characters, but spice it with that nervous edge of potential trouble.

Put Some Tension In the Narrative, Too

Foreboding? Remember the music in Jaws? Whenever it played, we knew something nasty was coming. Foreshadowing hints at real plot events that are coming, but foreboding is all about setting the mood. Sounds, smells, perhaps the dead bird in the bushes. It all adds up to a background feeling of fear and unease for the reader.

Thwart expectations. Postpone, postpone, postpone. Especially when the character isn't quite sure what the payoff or resolution will be, putting it off raises the tension almost automatically. Make sure that we know what is at stake for the character and that it is meaningful and has clear consequences, then have good reasons for not opening the letter or getting the news right now -- and watch the tension rise.

What happened? Make changes, but don't explain them - yet. Use the changes to push your character into action, into learning and taking control -- make them meaningful. But let your character skid a bit as they try to cope, don't always give them an easy explanation.

Tension. Important stakes, visible actions, and uncertain outcomes. As the rope pulls the characters towards the pit, and they struggle and flail trying to avoid going over the edge, the dramatic tension fills the air.

And... that's chapter 10. Coming up next, we'll look at scene intentions.

But right now, let's think about an assignment. Probably the simplest is to take a scene from a book or one you've written and go over it, looking for how it uses dramatic tension. When the reader looks at it, what potential for conflict is lurking there? How does the narrative summary and dramatization set up and then thwart completion of expectations? Then consider how you might add more tension to the scene. If the two key figures are about to have a fight -- have them bluster and pose, and then Officer Malarkey comes around the corner. And as the two opponents explain that nothing is happening, the tension rises. When will they actually have their fight? And who will win?

Write! And keep tightening that tension.

The thrill of creative effort grows from the mud of spelling and grammar.
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Original posting 7 March 2008

Before we go to far, you might want to think about how you, as a writer, like to set up your mysteries. Or suspense.

How do you get a reader interested, how do you keep them reading, how do you convince them that somewhere down the way, you are going to reveal something interesting?

'saright? Something to contemplate on a weekend in March, eh?

Over at http://nancyfulda.livejournal.com/195030.html Nancy raises the question, and talks a bit about what doesn't quite make it (leaving out stuff? Just skipping right over important info? Nah, that's not a mystery, that's just a mistake, isn't it?).

My first response was that as writers, we need to raise questions - and then answer them. Part of what we do in the first part of the writing is to show that we can be trusted, that we will not leave the reader dangling on the edge of the precipice without sooner or later throwing them a rope, bringing in the helicopter with a skyhook, or somehow getting them out of that predicament. And having built up their trust, we can take them on a deeper dip over the edge of the cliff - and then raise them up again. Kind of like a roller coaster ride, give them a glimpse of what's coming, and then chug up the incline for a while, and . . . zoom down the incline . . . then around the curve! And then do it again.

Hum. Let's see. Mystery by expectation? Suspense in the interruptions?

How do you create that air of mystery, anyway?

When we write, we learn about ourselves.
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Original posting 21 Feb 2008

Wicked little cliffhanger . . .

Okay, here's the setup. There is a small group - say six or seven people - doing something together. In the show I was watching, they were having dinner together. And the phone rings. One of them answers it, says, "Hello. Oh. Yes." and turns and looks at the gathered people. Long pause.

And they ended today's episode, so we'll have to see what that was all about tomorrow!

So, your task, should you choose to accept it, is to lay out that scene. Have your people gather, and the phone rings. Given cell phones, this could happen almost anywhere. And someone answers it, says hello, and then . . . pause, look around, and . . .

This is where you decide. Do they hang up? Who was on the other end of the line? What was said that made them look around like that? What do they say to the people sitting there, and what is the reaction to all this? Do they take one person aside and whisper, do they simply blurt it out, what happens next?

One line?
We never thought that the phone ringing marked the end of our happiness.
Go, write!

When we write, we learn about ourselves.
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
original posting: Fri, 8 Jul 1994 18:35:01 JST

or: How Can A Story Convey Internal Struggles

Hi, all. Michael raised an interesting point which I have been pondering. It wasn't really central to his discussion, but noting his concern with portraying psychological depth and techniques of writing, I started to think about just what part the old theme of "man against himself" has in writing, and how the "standard techniques" present that struggle.

Grant me a thousand words or so (a picture and a half?) to pound that point into the dust?

[since I suspect many of you are still recovering from an extended weekend, you may postpone reactions for a while. I hope you enjoyed the 4th--and brought back memories of fireworks and hot buttered corn and all that jazz!]

I suppose I should start by noting that many discussions of literature attempt to loosely divide the set of possible conflicts into three major groups--man against himself, man against man, and man against nature (the book where I learned these wasn't up to modern standards--please feel free to change man into homo sap or whatever nonsexist term you prefer, and correct other sexual references as needed).

So I start with the recognition that psychological struggles--man against himself--are a very common playground for writers. In most cases, they use a variety of techniques to play out their plots.

Perhaps one of the most common is "projecting" the internal struggle onto external life, sometimes even converting the whole internal conflict into an "external" one. For example, Dr. Jeckle and Mr. Hyde (sp?), most or all of Shakespeare's plays, Dracula, and many, many other "oldies" and even some "newies" clearly use the tired-and-true techniques as backdrops for this oldest play of old--man struggling with himself (check out the Bible and other ancient historical sources--cripes, even the mythologies are very little more than "external" projections of man's struggle with himself).

[or perhaps our best analogies and metaphors for what's going on inside are built from those outside ourselves? which one is the mirror, which the image?]

On considering the matter carefully, I'm not at all sure that there is any kind of story that does not involve the struggle of an individual to understand and deal with him or herself. Even the purest adventure-action story usually involves at least some minor (and often rather major!) internal struggle by one or more of the characters trying to deal with personality flaws, fear, hatred, etc.

There are a number of "plotting systems" that focus on identifying a "critical flaw" (or similar personality trait or problem), developing the conflict and rising tension to aggravate and display that internal problem, and then using a shift, reversal, or other method of resolving the external and internal conflict that has been constructed. Since these systems focus on the purely internal as the driving force underlying the entire plot construction and selection, it seems obvious that these are quite focused on internal struggles--even when the result is a hard-bitten detective madly chasing cares and dodging Freudian slips as they close in on the suspects...

Let's see--some of those old tired-and-true techniques:

Mystery--the presentation of parts and clues in an order which "teases" the reader into reading, then reveals the "hidden secret"--while it has obvious uses in almost any kind of writing, its appeal to the reader and challenge to the intellect seem peculiarly appropriate as a component of writing that deals with psychological conflicts and truths. After all, the depths of the mind (and especially those quirks of the unconscious, right and left brain, and other intrigues of the psychological world) are perhaps the most resistant of mysteries even to those of us who live with one all of our lives. We may be the foremost experts on that mind--and how mysterious it is!

[which is one of the delightful dilemmas of life--I must chose, yet I know precisely how little I know! and I thrash onward, struggling with that limited self I know too well...]

Suspense--the deliberate delaying of closure to maintain interest--also seems quite well-suited to writing that deals with internal thoughts, desires, and drives. After all, the tool is rooted in those desires and needs, and--when used to direct and heighten interest, or even in twisted ways to frustrate and mislead the reader--is one of the most psychological of writers' tricks.

Pandora, Love, Dilemma, Revenge...most of the old "tricks of the trade" seem rooted rather solidly in psychological caprice. The proper study of man is man--and seemingly that's what the writers have been up to for a long, long time.

Resolutions--lord, that's an on-going discussion. Join the confusion. For the nonce, let me just note that Randy's point about the basic need being the reader's psychological closure (versus resolving the conflict) is extraordinarily good (if I can ever pin it down enough to use it). Randy also made the excellent point that the end of the story and the resolution of the story are not at all identical, and can occur in various combinations (e.g. resolution before end, coincident, and resolution well after end). [points freely translated by me--if there are errors, they are mine]

[I have several files from Randy and Chris which I am still mulling over dealing with "endings" and "resolutions" and such fine points.]

I think Michael's point that most resolutions are not truly final may also provide some enlightenment for our continuing discussion.

Let me see - a quick checklist:
  1. scenes - character, dialogue, action, setting
  2. avoid narrative summaries - the narrator speaks
  3. show, don't tell
  4. let character emerge through action, reaction, and dialogue
  5. limit flashbacks, analysis, and history
  6. don't use dialogue or interior monologues to feed info to your reader
  7. introduce us to the character through how they act and talk
  8. 3rd person, past tense - except when 1st or omniscient or others do a better job
  9. make dialogue show emotion, don't tell us
  10. kill -ly adverbs -- use the right verb!
  11. not "He wondered..." -- use "Why did he..." (more natural)
  12. use beats -- little actions between dialogue lines
  13. short paragraphs, scenes, and speeches
  14. avoid repetition
  15. watch proportion and balance
  16. avoid cliches
hum--seems as though these old techniques are focused on bringing out character--that hidden psychological beast, with all its claws and varied furs, that hides beneath the external details and reveals itself in such maddeningly incomplete and fragmentary glimpses. Admittedly, it is not as simple and easy as sliding into the brain of the person might be--but most of us aren't telepaths anyway, and find even "stream-of-consciousness" writing to be relatively unfamiliar, not at all similar to the babbling brook that runs inside our cranium in the instants when we are not occupied with various disturbances outside and inside our skin.

Even when I look at attempts like Georges Polti's to categorize the various fragments out of which we "build" plots (or stories), the focus is on internal drives--sometimes being played out in the outside world--and the psychological thrashing of those conflicts. Polti makes a point of stating that one of the key ways to vary the basic building blocks of his 32 plot elements is to "collapse" two or more of his "essential characters" into a single person who embodies the inherent conflict and characteristics of those multiple "actors." I'd argue that one of the ways we can most easily display an internal struggle is to separate out the actors and give them at least fictional independence to "show off" their dispositions...

Perhaps this whole discussion really belongs with our recent notation that the writer's and readers' emotions are involved and "touched" by truly great writing. While not overtly identical, in the same way it might be said that part of the basic plot in great writing is always a human struggle with him/herself--coming face-to-face with the fact of our individual humanity in one guise or another, accepting it, and learning to deal with it in some way (note that being defeated by it is one way to deal with it--not perhaps the currently accepted mode, but quite common in older tragedies).

I did want to thank Michael for his quote:
- "Once upon a time, a man complained that the shoes he was trying on were
- much too tight. To which the seller replied: `You have no right to
- complain unless you yourself can make a better shoe.' So the man went
- out and found himself a better shoemaker..." --Pierre Elliott Trudeau--
- Canadian Prime Minister (1968-1979, 1980-1984)
Interesting quote. As I read it, it is talking to the craftsperson about making sure the product fits the customer--or in our terms, that the writing suits the audience.

Who is your audience? What do they expect? Nasty questions that cut to the core of writing...

thoughtfully,
tink
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Original posting: Thu, 04 Jan 2001 00:23:16 -0500

Flipping across the odd cable stations, I happened to see a short film segment.  It was on Independent Film Channel or some similar collection of eclectic bits.

It was an interesting piece.  Set in a diner, starting with an old woman coming in the door saying to herself, "So I am speaking French?  How interesting!"  (the movie was subtitled)

She glances at the table with the reserved sign, sits down at the next booth, and tells the waitress that she knows what she wants to eat.  She orders the special, eggs, bacon, sausage, etc. and tea and coffee, "not in the same cup, of course."

We get a glance around the restaurant, then shift to the young man in heavy coat and knitted hat pulled over his hair who comes in and sits at the reserved table.  In the background, we hear the waitress say, "That's reserved."

He shifts, pulls something out of his coat, and puts it under the table.  Then he gets up, hands empty, and heads out of the diner.

A pair of men come in, and sit at the table.  We see the young man get out cigarettes and a funny black box, then switch it on.

Then we cut to under the table.  Sticks of explosive, and a timer, starting at 5:00.

Another set of shots around the diner, this time solarized as if a bright light were shining.  Frozen shots, as the timer ticks across the first few seconds.

The two men who apparently were the intended targets leave.

Then a series of tiny scenes.  The old man yearning to meet the old woman.  The fat man trying to resist food, and wanting it.  The waitresses trading snippets of conversation as they pass, then taking a moment on the stools for the best part.  The young girl who sees the blinking light on the bomb, but cannot convince her mother to believe her.  The young couple who come in angry with each other and sit at the table with the bomb.

The timer ticking down, down, down.

The old woman picks up the discarded black box out of the trash (she had watched curiously as the young man discarded his cigarettes).  First she switches it one way and the timer stops!  Then she shakes it, shakes her head, and pushes it back again, and the timer starts again.  3...2.

She pushes the switch back and forth.

A quick flip through the faces, the people we have come to know, to wonder about.

And then the scenes come to life again.

And we see that the timer has frozen as the old women tossed the box in the trash again.  She smiles at the old man, and we exit, with music.

Slices of life, almost cliched, some trite, not particularly exciting.

But!  With the bomb under the table adding its accent, somehow these scenes gained in interest.  One focused on what might be the last moment for each of these people, and wondered.

So -- your exercise.  Take a common scene (diner, office, bank, subway, you pick it).

Add a bomb.

Then tell those scenes of life against the backdrop of the ticking bomb.

And let us know whether the end is...

BOOOM!

or

life goes on.
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
TECH: Make a Scene #13: Suspense Scenes

[continuing the series on Make a Scene by Jordan Rosenfeld]

What do you think will happen next? That's the real question behind suspense. Rosenfeld suggests that suspense is a state of uncertainty producing anxiety. And you know, it doesn't matter whether we're waiting for something good to happen or something bad to happen, the reader is still hanging on the edge of the precipice. And the longer you as writer delay the outcome of the scene, the more your readers will enjoy it. So which scenes are suspense scenes?

1. The protagonist starts out in trouble or quickly gets mired in danger
2. Emotional, physical, or spiritual stakes for the character get more complicated
3. Emotional intensity increases and does not let up
4. Events or characters exert pressure on the protagonist to change or to act in some way

Suspense scenes add emotional zip, raise the emotional ante, and complicate things. They're often used after descriptive, contemplative scenes or dialogue driven scenes that mostly give out plot information. They act as a counter, getting the reader and the protagonist excited and out of their comfort zone. They are also fast scenes that push your reader to keep reading, so they can sometimes be good lead-ins to revelations. Oddly enough, suspense scenes are usually relatively slow paced, focusing on details. The agony of waiting for resolution is what makes it seem fast. Don't rush it, you want to give the reader time to worry.

The opening of the suspense scene should make the reader worry about the protagonist. The protagonist doesn't have to be hanging over the edge yet, but he can certainly be glancing at it. Or you might want to simply have the protagonist picking up some details that aren't quite right -- who left their muddy shoes on the porch?
  • introduce a catalyst or antagonist with intentions that the protagonist does not trust
  • let a character or event threatened or pressure the protagonist who resists
  • let your protagonist under pressure react or do something that causes unexpected conflict
Mood, setting, sensory details -- these are what really build the suspense scene. Don't overdo it (remember the pathetic fallacy, wherein the weather always reflects the protagonists feelings). But select details and words that show the reader that something is wrong.
  • dramatic weather can threaten the characters, block their achievements, or simply complicate everything
  • decay or other evidence of damage makes readers wonder if the protagonist will end up in the same shape
  • color and light -- there is a reason that bad things happen in the dark -- it's scary!
  • eerie touches can certainly add to the picture
Raising the stakes. When the character's fate changes or new complications come in, a suspense scene can dramatize the new directions.

Strange or surprising actions that challenge the normality and expectations of the protagonists and the reader can push suspense. The confusion of this unexpected action raises the pressure and anxiety.

Ending a suspense scene. You need to finish the action and give the reader a pause. This might be a reflection by the protagonists, or maybe some other kind of pause. You need to let the reader take a breath. Another way is to run the scene right out into a cliffhanger. If you do this, pick it up in the next scene.

Note that even thrillers usually don't have all suspense scenes. You need to give the reader a break.

Rosenfeld's key points about suspense scenes
1. Does the scene open in an uneasy or anxiety provoking way?
2. Does the protagonist quickly get into trouble?
3. Is there enough emotional intensity in the scene?
4. Do events or an antagonist put pressure on the protagonist through opposition?
5. Is gratification delayed? Are conclusions to scene events postponed, and are the intentions of characters blocked?
6. Does the scene's end break the suspense or are we left hanging?

So that is Chapter 13. Suspense, getting the hero in trouble and letting them stew.

Incidentally, I think such scenes are a kind of staple for every writer. Thriller, adventure, mystery, romance, science fiction -- maybe if you're writing nonfiction you don't need to write suspense scenes, but I'm not sure about that. So we really need to practice these, setting up the structure and doing it. Can you think of any kind of fiction that doesn't need at least some suspense scenes?

An exercise? Well, these are staples for TV, so how about taking a look at a TV show and picking out a suspense scene? Perhaps the car chase or race somewhere (don't all TV shows have one of those?). Or some other scene that makes you bite your fingernails? How did it start, and what about it makes you worry and fret? Now think about how you might produce similar effects in a written scene. You don't have the background muzak to help, but you have plenty of other tools. So . . .

Write!

The writer's job is to help readers see the invisible -- or at least worry that it's coming.
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
original posting: Thu, 31 May 2001 22:22:55 -0400

He knew something was wrong when he found the front door open.
Then he...

a simple sort of beginning, and yet the reader is likely to keep reading just to find out what was wrong.  What is the "something"?  Why was the front door open?

What happens next?  Does he find something else?  Does he do something?

Here's one way that it might go:

He knew something was wrong when he found the front door open.

Then he found the visions on the floor.

The day had started out normally enough. ...

After he found the visions on the floor, he started yelling, "Margaret?"

And so on and on, until the ending.

What kind of a story could you write, starting with that simple sentence and two words?

He knew something was wrong when he found the front door open.
Then he...

Go ahead, make my day and write!
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
original posting: Wed, 24 Jul 2002 00:22:56 -0400

This last weekend, I took a walk with visitors.  Their little child was terribly excited as we walked along, dashing ahead to look, then running back to tell us what was around the next corner.

I was thinking about that childhood enthusiasm for the little mysteries of "what's around the next corner?"

Perhaps that's the wonder of writing -- you get to decide what's there, hiding around that corner.  And you get to tease us (your reader) into peaking around with you.

What do you think?  What corner is your writing about to peak around?  And how are you going to get me (the reader) to peak with you?

Tell us about the street you're walking down, the corners that hide things, and what lurks around those corners...

write!

[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Original posting: Sun, 23 Oct 1994 21:46:02 EDT

1. Write a paragraph. Your choice on characters, action, etc. but make sure something happens in the course of the paragraph (even just having one character get up and cross the room).

[100 words? no, shorter than that.]

2. Break it up. Take at least one part of the action and rewrite it into a "clue" or "foreshadowing" part. Then insert some other material in the middle--a flashback, perhaps another scene from another part of the action, a little description, some other stuff--and finish by rewriting the ending of the first action.

[go back in and slice it up, then put some stuffing in...]

3. Keep stretching that original action. You can add some blocks and difficulties, you can add more "filling," you can turn that original paragraph into a thin framework binding all the parts of a whole novel into chunks interrupting your character slowly walking across the room...

[and then get the pump out, put a funnel in and grind sausage into the casing to fill the little monster out, get on top and stomp more into the edges...]

Don't let the reader down. Slow down the action...unless it needs to be fast and heavy.

and sell a few more words, too!

Mystery

Mar. 23rd, 2008 01:30 pm
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
original posting: Sun, 8 May 1994 18:35:02 JST

[GET READY TO...]

Not the big mystery, just the little everyday mysteries that keep a reader turning pages, wondering...

1. Pick an object - book, revolver, letter, knife, bottle of pills, etc., etc.

2. Pick a container - paper bag, drawer, pocket, briefcase, trashcan, etc., etc.

3. Take a character.

4. Two approaches

a. write the scene where the character starts to get into the container and show us the character getting the object out and revealing to us (the readers) what it is and so forth. Then go back and insert a pause (dialogue, narrative, flashback, whatever) making us wait, but keeping us aware that we don't yet know just what is in that container...

b. write the scene, showing us the character starting to get into the container. write the pause, with the dialogue or whatever. then finish getting the object out and revealing to us readers what the heck we've been waiting for.

Very simple - hook, pause, revelation. and if you overlap them so that the reader always has at least one and often more than one unfinished mystery to look forward to - they'll keep turning page after page, pulling themselves right up and into the ending.

[...WRITE!]
[identity profile] mbarker.livejournal.com
Before we go to far, you might want to think about how you, as a writer, like to set up your mysteries. Or suspense.

How do you get a reader interested, how do you keep them reading, how do you convince them that somewhere down the way, you are going to reveal something interesting?
meandering . .  )
Hum. Let's see. Mystery by expectation? Suspense in the interruptions?

How do you create that air of mystery, anyway?

When we write, we learn about ourselves.

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