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December 29, 2020

You will discover below a series of scholarly, researchable, frank and indispensable guides to conceiving and writing the commercial genre novel, as well as the plot-driven literary novel - all derived from our sister site, Novel Writing on Edge. However, the nature of the developmental peels and prods as presented makes an initial big assumption, namely, that you are honestly desirous of true publication either by a classic publisher or traditional literary press, and therefore, willing to birth the most dynamic and can't-put-it-down novel you possibly can. Further, you are also naturally desirous of great sets, mind-altering theme, unforgettable characters, and cinematic scenes, among other things. Does that go without saying?

Perhaps, but you must know, it won't be easy.

First of all, the method-based assertions and information we've gathered and elevated before your eyes below will shiver many of you like a 6.5 on the literary Richter scale because it will contradict some or much of what you've been told about novel writing elsewhere - at writer conferences, for example, by your writer's group, or by various content-marketing websites operated by amateurs (75%+) playing to their demographic. Second of all, we don't cut corners or hold back to simplify matters for off-track or rank beginners who might be driven away (starting right about now) by the realization of just how much needs to be learned and applied. And though more of you might be driven away immediately following the forthcoming assertion, it is nonetheless true: there are no "SEVEN EASY STEPS" or other shortcut gimmicks that will catapult you into becoming the author of an authentically fine novel. Anyone who believes otherwise is sadly ignorant.

Nonetheless, if you are astute and mature enough to know there are many things about novel writing you don't know, but must learn, you've come to the right place. And yes, there is a whole mass of matter to absorb. We make no apologies. Our mission is to take you from A to Z. You should consider all that follows to be a kind of master primer, i.e., whatever is necessary to sufficiently comprehend the novel writing universe. We divide the exploration into three sections, each with their own rubrics.

Just know, it makes no sense to begin writing a novel you plan on selling to publishers or even smaller presses without first having a relatively good idea whether they'll want to buy it in the first place. This concept is radical to many beginners, but it shouldn't be. And the concept that you can't balance an artistic approach with pragmatic story considerations is not only indefensible but contradictory.

The first category approaches the reality of novel writing vs. the myths and the source of those myths. For many of you, it will create emotional responses up and down the spectrum from humor to melancholy and back, depending of course on your mood and experience thus far with the aforementioned universe. Regardless, the overall point is to make a valiant attempt to filter out the many falsehoods and misperceptions with extreme prejudice in order to begin the journey of novel writing with a clear head and a view towards realistic expectation.

The second two categories are relatively self-explanatory. Just know, it makes no sense to begin writing a novel you plan on selling to publishers or even smaller presses without first having a relatively good idea whether they'll want to buy it in the first place. This concept is radical to many beginners, but it shouldn't be. And the concept that you can't balance an artistic approach with pragmatic story considerations is not only indefensible but contradictory.

Btw, you might wonder if it's advisable to pass on any of the articles below, but it isn't. Everything we've included is considered vital. Even if you believe you have a certain element pretty well covered, don't believe you know it all. Most likely, you don't. Also, the potential exists that you've read or received advice that is counter productive. The advice featured here, however, is based on decades of experience in the business (e.g., hundreds of sessions at the New York Pitch Conference and many more hundreds in writer workshops across the U.S.), as well as lessons learned from great novel authors, playwrights, and screenplay writers - more about this model-and-context methodology found here (feel free to leave comments on any of the items that follow).

Before we begin, a favorite quote from one of America's greatest authors, Truman Capote:

As certain young people practice the piano or the violin four and five hours a day, so I played with my papers and pens... My literary tasks kept me fully occupied; my apprenticeship at the altar of technique, craft; the devilish intricacies of paragraphing, punctuation, dialogue placement. Not to mention the grand overall design, the great demanding arc of middle-beginning-end. One had to learn so much, and from so many sources.

NOVEL WRITING TRIP WIRES, CHECKLISTS, EGO, AND VITAL FIRST STEPS

DEVELOPMENT REALITY - MAJOR POINTS OF PLOT AND MUCH MORE
We endeavor to list the points below in the order they should be read, however, it isn't a perfect arrangement due to overlapping. Ideally, the high-concept premise must come first in any case.

What is Your High-Concept Premise?
https://www.novelwritingonedge.com/2020/12/high-concept-sufficiently-unique-what.html

The Need For Human Drama in the Novel
https://www.novelwritingonedge.com/2020/11/theme-plot-strong-character.html

Loglines and Core Wounds as Development Tool
https://www.novelwritingonedge.com/2020/10/hook-lines-with-core-wounds.html

The Novel's "Agon" - Vital Core Conflict
https://www.novelwritingonedge.com/2020/11/the-novels-agon-primary-conflict.html

ADVANCED NARRATIVE TECHNIQUE, SCENES, AND PROSE STYLE

December 26, 2020

Prepared for appropriate frustration and tapped out fingers?

Using our favorite "stand on the shoulders of the classics" approach, we're going to examine the role of detailed character description when it comes to enhancing prose narrative. We've touched on this previously with our High Impact Narrative article and a caboose of Enhancement via Nabokov, but we're not done yet. Let's look at various examples and techniques.

A GREAT DAMP LOAF

From Annie Proulx's "The Shipping News":

"A great damp loaf of a body. At six he weighed eighty pounds. At sixteen he was buried under a casement of flesh. Head shaped like a crenshaw, no neck, reddish hair ruched back. Features as bunched as kissed fingertips. Eyes the color of plastic. The monstrous chin, a freakish shelf jutting from the lower face."

Note that Proulx first makes a single statement of character impression before moving on to details, i.e., "A great damp loaf of a body." Note also, "shaped like a crenshaw." Consider your setting and choose an aspect of it to create a comparison to your own character. If your character lived in a desert town you might say, "his face unshaved for days, rough as prickly cactus."

"Ed Punch talked out of the middle of his mouth. While he talked he examined Quoyle, noticed the cheap tweed jacket the size of a horse blanket, fingernails that looked regularly held to a grind stone. He smelled submission in Quoyle, guessed he was butter of fair spreading consistency."

Consider and sketch a few metaphors to physically describe a unique character you've created. If you don't have one, perhaps you should get one ASAP? In any case, the more interesting the appearance, the easier your job. Begin with a single statement of impression and include simile or metaphor based on your novel's unique setting (is it sufficiently unique?). Note the above is third person POV.

WATCHING THE MOUTH WITH ITALO

From Italo Calvino's "Under the Jaguar Sun":

"Right in the midst of chewing, Olivia's lips paused, almost stopped, though without completely interrupting their continuity of movement, which slowed down, as if reluctant to allow an inner echo to fade, while her gaze became fixed, intent on no specific object, in apparent alarm. Her face had a special concentration that I had observed during meals ever since we began our trip to Mexico. I followed the tension as it moved from her lips to her nostrils, flaring one moment, contracting the next, (the plasticity of the nose is quite limited -- especially for a delicate, harmonious nose like Olivia's -- and each barely perceptible attempt to expand the capacity of the nostrils in the longitudinal direction actually makes them thinner, while the corresponding reflex movement, accentuating their breadth, then seems a kind of withdrawal of the whole nose into the surface of the face)."

"Right in the midst of chewing..." The character is engaged in an action. Focus on one physical attribute, then another. "As though" what? Consider, she or he, looks "as though" or "as if"? Where are the eyes? What are they doing? Is the face twitching, moving? How? And now, time to unleash the PDQ here at WE. Look it over carefully. This is a brainstorming tool for description in prose narrative - ideal onion peeler.

Apply at least five PDQ questions to your character's face. Note the questions and include the responses. Take your time and think about it carefully... Note the example above is first person POV.

UPDIKE'S MOTHER IS ANGRY

(from John Updike's "The Centaur")

"A glance at my mother's mottled throat told me she was angry. Suddenly I wanted to get out: she had injected into the confusion a shrill heat that made everything cling. I rarely knew exactly why she was mad; it would come and go like weather. Was it really that my father and grandfather absurdly debating sounded to her like murder? Was it something I had done, my arrogant slowness? Anxious to exempt myself from her rage, I sat down in my stiff peat jacket and tried the coffee again. It was still too hot. A sip seared my sense of taste away."

Now describe a character who is familiar to you, like a family member, and depict them in a charged emotional state. Also, add at least one rumination like Updike did above, i.e., "Was it something I had done, my arrogant slowness?"

CHABON AND NEFF'S HUNSECKER LOOKS PACINO

From Michael Neff's "All the Dark We Will Not See"

"First of all, Mr. Basil R. Hunsecker acted and looked the stereotypical bad boss: a middle-aged prick in three-piece gray and tacky pink tie who disturbingly resembled Al Pacino in Dog Day Afternoon (narrow head and brooding Italian look), only an older version, with a thinner face, pock-marked cheeks, and big, protruding, blue-bone eyes that sucked in everything and contrasted in an irritating way with his sallow brown skinâ€”as if he were the victim of one too many spray tans. His odor, somewhat unique, like cooked shellfish marinated in mildew. What Manny didnâ€˜t know was that Hunsecker remained the owner not only of a rare, painful, and mummifying disease that ate away the body fat between his skin and muscles, but also of more than one post-pubescent social trauma, his memory way to full of punky kids screeching at him: Hey, pizzaaa face, you fucking shithead pizzaaa face!"

From Michael Chabon's "Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Klay"

"Then a hand as massive and hard as an elk's horn, lashed by tough sinews to an arm like the limb of an oak, grabs the boy by the shoulder and drags him back to the wings... "You know better, young man," says the giant, well over eight feet tall, to whom the massive hand belongs. He has the brow of an ape and the posture of a bear and the accent of a Viennese professor of medicine. He can rip open a steel drum like a can of tobacco, lift a train carriage by one corner, play the violin like Paganini, and calculate the velocity of asteroids and comets, one of which bears his name."

Apply the techniques and lengthy description of Neff and Chabon to describe a unique or outrageous individual of your own creation. Be bold and imaginative with your strokes. Use metaphor, simile, the wallop of a single first impression. Feel free to make the character move and speak if you wish. Be aggressive and prototype your sketch first.

Now, are you on your way to becoming a masterful prose stylist? Perhaps, but this is just the beginning.

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December 26, 2020

Once more, the classics speak to us.

What is one of the primary reasons novels get rejected? The narrative is too passive. It ultimately falls flat, quiet and dull. Details are insufficient, metaphors lacking, lack of energy obvious, circumstances predictable (see also Narrative Enhancement via Nabokov). So what to do? At WE we believe in learning from great authors whose shoulders we stand on. Therefore, we've developed a means of addressing this issue. We wish you to seek inspiration from the prose extractions below and utilize them for purposes of defeating passivity via emulation. In other words, you will intentionally choose and compose fictional subject matter for your novel that entertains, frightens, or enthralls the reader. And how? By creating a circumstance, place, thing, or event that is unique and curious by virtue of its very nature.

Let's engage in a few writing "prompts." You must prod the imagination and peel the onion. By the way, in the context of your own novel, your task will be much easier if you've chosen an overall setting that lends itself to vibrancy and engagement in the first place.

From Robert Grave's "Claudius the God"

Graves was a genius at utilizing set and circumstantial details to create verisimilitude in this novel of Romans battling ancient Britons. Note this unusual event and the associated imagery. Also, note the profound and engaging use of "delayed cognition" technique. Read the paragraph carefully. The author intentionally postpones the full explanation of the primary phenomenon we encounter in this scene, thereby creating suspense in the narrative. The reader can't wait for the truth.

"A British outpost was stationed in the pine copse at the farther end, and as the moon rose these watchful men saw a sight and heard a sound which filled their hearts with the utmost dismay. (Graves doesn't come right out with what this is, but rather introduces a sight and sound "which filled their hearts with dismay." As the reader completes this sentence, a dramatic question, an enigma is created.) A great bird with a long shining bill, a huge grey body and legs fifteen feet long suddenly rose through the mist a javelin's throw away and came stalking towards them, stopping every now and then to boom hoarsely, flap his wings, preen his feathers with his dreadful bill and boom again. The Heron King! They crouched in their bivouacs, terrified, hoping that this apparition would disappear, but it came slowly on and on.
At last it seemed to notice their camp-fire. It jerked its head angrily and hurried towards them, with outspread wings, booming louder and louder. They sprang up and ran for their lives. The Heron King pursued them through the copse with a fearful chuckling laughter, then turned and slowly promenaded along the edge of the marsh, booming dully at intervals... (Not until the next sentence does the reader learn the true nature of the Heron King.) The Heron King was a French soldier from the great marshes which lie to the west of Marseille, where the shepherds are accustomed to walk on long stilts as a means of striding across soft patches too wide to jump. Posides had rigged this man up in a wicker-work basket... head and bill improvised of stuff-covered lathes and fastened to his head. He knew the habits of herons and imitated the walk with his stilts..."

Graves turns reality on its head. First the monster, then the exposition. Following on the Graves example above, consider using your imagination to invent a rather fantastical circumstance (in the context of your own novel) with the delayed cognition technique. In other words, portray a phenomenon with a surprise true identity, and depict this circumstance through the viewpoint of a character who is surprised or shocked by it, then use your narrator to explain the true nature as Graves did above.

From Jerzy Kosinski's "The Painted Bird":

"From behind the cemetery appeared a mob of village women with rakes and shovels. It was led by several younger women who shouted and waved their hands â€¦The women held Ludmila down flat against the grass. They sat on her hands and legs and began beating her with the rakes, ripping her skin with their fingernails, tearing out her hair, spitting into her face. Lekh tried to push through, but they barred his way. He tried to fight, but they knocked him down and hit him brutally. He ceased to struggle and several women turned him over on his back and straddled him. Then the women killed Ludmila's dog with vicious shovel blows."

Using the example above, write a short vignette that describes a group of human beings engaged in a task both energetic and filled with conflict. Use characters from your own novel. Invent as necessary. As we've said, and will say again, imagination is your best friend. Be aggressive with it.

"Here and there I saw ax cuts on tree trunks. I remembered that Olga had told me that such cuts were made by peasants trying to cast evil spells on their enemies. Striking the juicy flesh of the tree with an ax, one had to utter the name of a hated person and visualize his face. The cut would then bring disease and death to the enemy. There were many such scars on the trees around me. People here must have had many enemies, and they were quite busy in their efforts to bring them disaster."

Write a second short vignette describing a single visual phenomena of sufficient complexity that will surprise the reader with its unusual nature, and which also makes a statement on the human condition. Be original! This should be something unusual and taken from your novel. If you don't have it, improvise.

From Ralph Ellison's "The Invisible Man":

"On Eighth Avenue, the market carts were parked hub to hub along the curb, improvised canopies shading the withering fruits and vegetables. I could smell the stench of decaying cabbage. A watermelon huckster stood in the shade beside his truck, holding up a long slice of orange-meated melon, crying his wares with hoarse appeals to nostalgia, memories of childhood, green shade and summer coolness. Stale and wilted flowers, rejected downtown, blazed feverishly on a cart, like glamorous rags festering beneath a futile spray from a punctured fruit juice can. The crowd were boiling figures seen through steaming glass from inside a washing machine."

From Italo Calvino's "Under The Jaguar Sun"

"Waiting for evening to fall, we sat in one of the cafes under the arcades of the zocalo, the regular little square that is the heart of every old city of the colony -- green, with short, carefully pruned trees called almendros, though they bear no resemblance to almond trees. The tiny paper flags and the banners that greeted the official candidate did their best to convey a festive air to the zocalo. The proper Oaxaca families strolled under the arcades. American hippies waited for the old woman who supplied them with mescaline. Ragged vendors unfurled colored fabrics on the ground. From another square nearby came the echo of the loudspeakers of a sparsely attended rally of the opposition. Crouched on the ground, heavy women were frying tortillas and greens."

With inspiration from both Ralph Ellison and Italo Calvino, imagine you are a camera sweeping across a big set with many different items included. Describe a place and note colors, movement, sounds and smells. Include bits of things, details of the set, types of people and their activities. Be vibrant with your description. Find something unique about the place you describe, and if you can't do that, find or invent a place wherein a unique or anomalous thing exists.

Big doses of imagination. How many times do we need say it? Living there, you'll be free, if you truly wish to be.

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Aspiring Authors and the Epiphany Light · December 25, 2020

A WATERSHED EVENT FOR SERIOUS WRITERS

Whatever the stage of your project or writing life, know that all writers, if they desire to become commercially published, must see and enter the Epiphany Light.

First of all, what is the "Epiphany Light"? The EL is a state of mind crucial to any aspiring author desirous of commercial or serious literary publication, and one which clearly divides the 99% from the 1% of those who've learned the hard way how challenging it is to have their expertise and projects taken seriously by professionals in the publishing business. But are the percentages so drastic as depicted here? Yes, and probably even more so.

Consider the very small number of first time authors who emerge with publishing contracts from major houses, imprints, or even well-regarded traditional presses, and then compare these few hundred to the hundreds of thousands of writers in America struggling valiantly yet vainly to accomplish the same feat. Viewed from this perspective, as we near the EL, we eventually come to a knowledge of true writer pathos on a scale unimagined: instances of duress and disappointment inflicted each day on hundreds if not thousands of writers as their manuscripts are routinely rejected by agents or publishers.

But how does the EL finally come about, or rather, fail to come about? Before the light can be viewed and entered, before writers can possess a state of mind that enables a forward movement towards success (by any reasonable artistic standard), they must, by one means or another, view their project through the eyes of an editorial professional in their chosen genre. So why doesn't it come easy? It isn't natural, has to be learned, and circumstances of one kind or another arise to prevent this crucial vision.

Viewed from this perspective, as we near the EL, we eventually come to a knowledge of true writer pathos on a scale unimagined: instances of duress and disappointment inflicted each day on hundreds if not thousands of writers as their manuscripts are routinely rejected by agents or publishers.

Whether it be a failure to properly immerse in the contemporary world of their chosen genre (reading books and interviews, studying deals at Publisher’s Marketplace, talking with publishing house editors at conferences or elsewhere), or an inability to rise above limitations imposed by their current writer’s group (consistently providing encouraging yet unproductive advice), or bad advice from those they believe possess an adequate comprehension of the current book market (e.g., freelance editors of one stripe or another who are removed from current market realities or who fail to differentiate necessary tropes from overused tropes), the writer is deprived of the consciousness necessary to make crucial edits or changes to the story.

Put quite simply, if you write mysteries loved by your friends and fellow writers, and perhaps even your paid freelance editor (who most likely has never worked in the New York publishing business), but can’t produce a thing other than pale imitations of Miss Marple, no editor or agent who represents the mystery genre will ever take you or your work seriously.

Regardless, the writer naturally grows frustrated and tired of unsuccessful efforts (if they‘re smart), and if determined not to fail, seeks new sources of information and inspiration.

Now the question becomes, how do writers transcend life in the 99% and enter the EL to arrive in the one percent promised land? What might lead them to a cognizance of reality? It can happen in various ways, by accident or no, but always preceded by trial and error groping as false signals are received concerning the commercial viability of their writing (see above) thus leading to false confidence. Regardless, the writer naturally grows frustrated and tired of unsuccessful efforts (if they‘re smart), and if determined not to fail, seeks new sources of information and inspiration.

Perhaps by happenstance the writer reads an article that clicks with them, or speaks to a professional who waves the red flag regarding what they’re doing wrong or what is specifically missing from their voice or manuscript that results in rejection after rejection--whatever the source of cognizance, the writer, perhaps for the first time, declines to fall back on old sources of corroboration.

If you are nearing the Epiphany Light, or you’ve entered it already, much of what we say here will resonate with you. If you have endured months or years of rejections, perhaps you need to point your toe over the line, just to test. And don’t feel down about all this, or discouraged. Learn from it. Understand that all writers make the same mistakes, learn the same lessons, fall down and get up.

The neophyte mystery writer holding her Miss Marple close and dear, as she might a mother’s warmth, must one day leave home and apply for a job with a suitable resume.

____________________

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December 6, 2020

OUTSIDE OF NARCISSISM, IMPATIENCE AND BAD ADVICE ARE A WRITER'S WORST ENEMIES.

If you ever attend writer events, you will never cease to hear utterances of bad writing advice, the popular kind that circulate like ruinous viral memes through the nervous systems of America's aborning novel writers. And each time you are exposed, you either chuckle or swear, depending on your mood and the circumstance. You might make a daring attempt to kill the meme in its tracks before it can infect someone else, or you might just stare at the writer with a dumbfounded look and ask, "Where the hell did you hear that?"

Yes, the primal question: WHERE THE HELL DID YOU HEAR THAT?

Inevitably, many will point to their writer's group. Ahhhh, of course, you think. Why just recently at an Algonkian event, one of my faculty (a former senior editor at Random House) and I were faced with an individual who adamantly asserted to us both that using only one point of view to write a novel was mandatory.

No exceptions!

I'm not kidding or exaggerating. I asked, "Where the hell did you hear that?"

She'd learned it from her writer's group. It must therefore be true. No doubt because they had told her this for seven years, and her workshop leader affirmed it, and as further proof the preposterous assertion was correct, a member of her group held an MA from Johns Hopkins! So in the face of this onslaught we displayed the typical dumbfounded reaction, and to our further astonishment, the writer just dug in and continued to resist our many proofs to the absolute contrary. As a matter of fact, one of the novels the writer was supposed to have read before the retreat was HOUSE OF SAND AND FOG. Of course, she didn't read it, but she did at least admit it contained more than one point of view. Uh oh! Moments later though, to bolster the writer group firewall of defensive ignorance, she said, "Well even F. Scott Fitzgerald screwed up once in Gatsby and shifted to a different point of view... So it just goes to show, anyone can screw up like that and use more than one point of view."

Stunned yet again following this mind-blowing comment, the two of us finally recovered to note several more novels that contained multiple POV, from WUTHERING HEIGHTS to THE POISONWOOD BIBLE to THE MARTIAN CHRONICLES to various thrillers and even to Rowling's later Harry Potter books. We figured that somewhere between Emily and J.K. this extremely stubborn person might actually stop and realize that perhaps her writer group had been steering her wrong. Sadly though, I don't believe she ever learned. Perhaps the bond with the group was too strong and the consensus delusion regarding single POV helped maintain their social cohesion. Perhaps her own narcissism disallowed her? Both? Who knows? I just know that the writer never once admitted she was wrong.

No sign of epiphany was ever forthcoming. Instead, she lapsed into borderline hysteria, though recovered the final two days and went to work on another novel. I sent her at least 20 examples of multiple POV following the retreat and received only a very terse note in return. All in all, it was the most singular and remarkable act of writer ignorance I've ever witnessed, but one cannot blame the writer out of hand. Bad advice was one of her worst enemies, if not her worst. If you go to a writer's group respecting the leader and your peers and they tell you XYZ nonsense year after year, how can you not believe it? Nevertheless, we workshop leaders and teachers tire of being the target of theatrical repercussions at such time the narcissist writer discovers the world is not flat and the sun doesn't revolve around them.

On the plus side, the exasperating event above prompted me to finally work towards creating a master list of bad writer advice--something I've wanted to do for years. I searched on Google not only to help with my own recollections but to investigate anything I might have missed, and the first article I came across was in Lit Reactor: "The Ten Worst Pieces of Writing Advice You Will Ever Hear."

Lit Reactor seems to be a decent place for newbie writers seeking community and inspiration, but I have to take a few exceptions with the article above. I firmly agree with a lot of it, for example, WRITE WHAT YOU KNOW is really bad advice. How could speculative or historical fiction writers ever pen a page if this were true? But the author goes on to choose other literary adages we've all grown old with and claims that they too are actually very bad advice. One of them is SHOW DON'T TELL. So that's one of the worst pieces of writer advice? Huh? Now, let's pull in the reins for a second. As a writer I've never seen SHOW DON'T TELL as a hard and fast rule that covers all conditions and circumstances. Obviously, one may need to "tell" at such time a certain type of exposition needs to be artfully delivered and dialogue isn't sufficient. Like most writers I've known, I see SHOW DON'T TELL as a helpful guideline, especially for newbies who tend to lump pages of exposition in their opening chapter, or otherwise drone on and on about an important event in the story when they should be depicting in a live-action scene.

As in other instances in the Lit Reactor article above, the author isn't necessarily wrong when she counterpoints the age-old literary adage, as I did above, but the difference between us is that she posits SHOW DON'T TELL as an unbreakable rule, and when exceptions are offered up they stand as proof that the adage is actually bad advice. Logic dictates, however, that one can find several conditions to counterpoint the negative examples and then we're even. My point is that the unfortunate act of singling out the SHOW DON'T TELL guideline as bad advice is, in itself, bad advice--my apologies to the author of the article, and she is welcome to debate this here, but seriously, how the heck would you apply the anti-SDT logic to screenplay writers or playwrights when so much more is SHOW DON'T TELL?

Let's recap. We now have three slings of really bad writing advice to list. We'll build the list as we go:

Only one point of view per novel
Write what you know
"Show don't tell" is bad advice

Next. At every Algonkian event, I hear a writer state this to me sooner or later: "Writer's shouldn't use flashbacks in their novels." Yes. Another, Where the hell did you hear that? Of course flashbacks are acceptable, if used artfully. They are just one technique in the fiction writing toolkit, and the types of flashbacks vary from a brief memory to a full chapter, or more. Novels that use a framing device of looking back into the past after having first established a contemporary setting (e.g., A Separate Peace or I Claudius) are themselves one immense act of flashback. But like the first example in the beginning of this post, the writer's group can sometimes be at fault for spreading this unproductive advice, but in all fairness, is the writer group the true source? When questioned about origin, the writer spreading the viral meme regarding flashbacks more often than not says, "I heard it at a writer conference." And then I ask, from whom? And they answer, "Uhh, someone, an agent, um... on a panel."

Trauma time! The soul-searing memories return to haunt me. Years ago, I sat on a panel with five other agents at the San Francisco Writer's Conference listening to a new and incredibly ignorant agent drone on and on about the craft of writing (though she wasn't a writer and had never been an editor--in fact, like so many young agents, her only past experience involved reading query letters and wading the slush-pile), and every other utterance from this person's mouth about fiction writing was just plain wrong. I sat biting my tongue as long as I could, and then attempted to qualify and gently negate her assertions, and succeeded to some degree, but despite this calamity, I learned something. Here before me sat over 200 people, writers in their early stages, looking for good advice. And were they getting it? No, a hundred times NO. Past memories began to gel and I realized that the single biggest source of bad advice for writers might well be the typical American writer conference--and of course, these writers return to their hometown groups to repeat what they've heard, e.g., no flashbacks, show don't tell sucks, don't worry about your title...

Don't worry about your title? Back to a writer conference. I attended a panel at another large writer conference on the west coast in 2014. It was a panel of writers who had recently been published. There were about 75 people in the room. A poor neophyte stood and asked the assembled writers if he had to worry about his title before he was published, and the consensus answer from the panel? No. You don't... I sat there dumbfounded. So basically, these people told this guy that pitching his novel or nonfiction with a crappy, foolish, or hackneyed title was perfectly fine. Not to worry! Call it whatever you want. Must I spend any more space telling you why this was not only not perfectly fine, but perfectly stupid and self-defeating? A bad title is like a warning siren going out ahead of your pitch, whether it be an oral pitch or query letter. It makes a horrible whining sound of warning, and it seems to be saying to those who read or listen: This is a terrible writer, stop listening, stop reading, run screaming!

Now, time to add three more to the list:

Avoid flashbacks in your fiction
Don't worry about your title
Any writer conference is helpful

Pitching the MFA

Though I don't hear it as much as I used to, I nevertheless hear it from young writers who have been conditioned to falsely believe that they will never write well or be taken seriously as writers unless and until they possess an MFA. My response to this: nothing could be a bigger lie. I'm sorry, I can't mince words or dance around the reality for the sake of anyone. This isn't to say that the right student can't benefit from the right MFA program (e.g., at Florida State)--they can, of course. I'm addressing the members of the Literary Academic Complex (LAC), also known as the Literary Industrial Complex (LIC), who relentlessly promote the marketing myth that the odds are you'll never amount to much as a writer without an MFA. Yes, no fooling. Just click to the article at WE regarding the MFA, and when you arrive, click on the link to an MFA writer poll and you will see Gary Shteyngart quacking forth on this very subject ("You have to get an MFA"). No conflict of interest here? Gary has an MFA, and how could this smiling goofy guy be steering us wrong? Thanks, Gary, for doing your part to convince America's youth to incur millions in debt to obtain MFA degrees of highly dubious worth. However, if we could overhear Gary talking in whispers at one of his terribly boring academic cocktail parties, you would get the real skinny, and it would sound something like this:

"Look, we all know there are only a handful of MFA programs in the country that are worth a shit, but you know, when you're interviewed you have to dumb it down so you won't piss anyone off."

One of the fatal flaws of MFA programs consists of using a writer group of fellow students (who know as little or less than you) to critique your work for the purpose of improving it, which brings me around to another bit of really bad advice: JOIN A WRITER GROUP. I wrote an article here at WE that pretty much sums up why being in a writer group for critique and guidance can be a train wreck in any number of ways. Again, like the MFA, you're supposing that people who know as little or less than you (otherwise why would they be there?) are capable of providing constructive advice, but since you aren't knowledgeable enough to know one way or another whether or not the advice is good, you should never take it without follow-up investigation--and if you're going to be constantly reality-checking what you hear, why stay in the group at all?... Yes, it's a social fest, it can be fun, or it can be oppressive and even ugly.

Did you know, THE ELEMENTS OF WRITING GOOD FICTION CANNOT BE TAUGHT? I didn't know it either until Isabella Allende told me so. She believes, as I do, that great authors are self-made, not baked from a workshop recipe, but she goes on further to say that students of novel writing are only capable of learning a limited subset of craft. Why? I'm not sure. She's not as extreme as the Iowa mantra that states "Writing Cannot be Taught, only talent developed," but she's closing in on it. From the video below (final 30%):

I have twenty students working on a novel, but only one might create a good novel... I can teach them a few things about the writing, but I cannot teach suspense, tension, tone... how to play with the imagination of the reader, what is the highlight of the story...

Hmmm, why not? We teach it effectively in Algonkian workshops and in online programs--quite effectively I might add. Tension and suspense derive from a number of sources, and all these are knowable, and examples can be displayed. We can't fold on our teaching methods because Isabella Allende believes otherwise. To each his own. Btw, I love her writing.

Finally, we come around to our number ten on the list: Don't plan or outline your novel, let the character write the novel, or even more simply, "Just start writing." How many times have I heard that? And guess where? At a writer conference, of course. A certain type of author is asked whether or not they plot or outline ahead of time. They smile and say something like, "I've been asked this question before, and I have to say no, I don't outline. It just all comes to me, the character inhabits me..." or some such drivel.

But let's be logical.

If you understand the primary foundations for writing a novel you know your plot line must develop certain points as it moves forward, and you know also that you must write separate scenes in the novel to perform certain tasks relevant to the plot line, as well as to the character arcs, etc. It's a complex undertaking, and one that demands a certain amount of planning. If you are some kind of genius and can keep it all in your head, more power to you, but if you are like me, you need to organize and place ideas on paper (or on the computer). Also, logic dictates that if your novel plot lines are a series of circumstances, reversals, and events that tie together, it only makes sense that you better know how point A gets to point M before you will know how point M gets to point Z.

Consider, do screenplay writers or playwrights just start writing without any planning? Of course not. So why should the novel be different? And we're not talking about Beckett or Joycean flights of fancy, we're talking about the vast bulk of commercial novels, whether they be upmarket or genre.

Btw, here we have a bunch of freelance editors confirming this awful advice. Interesting, yes, but if you look closely you'll see they are trying to sell you their editorial services. Perhaps the less you plan your novel, the more work they'll have to do?

Now for the summary.

The Writer's Edge top ten worst pieces of writing advice:

Only one point of view per novel
Write what you know
"Show don't tell" is bad advice (OMG!)
Avoid flashbacks in your fiction
Don't worry about your title (someone else will)
Any writer conference is helpful (beware--all events are not created equal)
You need to get an MFA (or you wont' be taken seriously)
Join a writer group (to improve your writing and get good feedback)
The art of fiction can't be taught (and "writing can't be taught")
Don't outline or plan your novel (let it happen)

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Posted December 5, 2020 · December 5, 2020

The following are classic examples of minor complications occurring in the novel.

And what do we mean by that? The basic definition: whatever "complicates" the story but is not directly related to the major dramatic complication or central plot conflict. Minors may erupt in the same way tornadoes spin off from hurricanes, or they may be unrelated: a surprise event, a dropped glass, a bellicose salesman wearing a Prussian spike helmet, i.e., whatever irritates, provokes, or disturbs, and in usually such a way as to either advance the story, cause suspense, shove the character into revealing a trait, or some combination thereof.

"The Sun Also Rises" by Ernest Hemingway

Scene 8:

Robert Cohn, friend of the narrator, enters the scene while narrator is having a conversation with another character by the name of Harvey. Very soon, Harvey baits Cohn, insults him. As a result, Cohn behaves unsure of himself.

Cohn's girlfriend then enters scene and begins to expose Cohn, attempting to embarrass him badly.

Scene 27:

Later, another character, Brett‘s fiance Michael, insults Cohn, comparing him to a steer who is "always hanging about so." Rather than intelligently rebut his tormentor, Cohn becomes furious and leaves the scene.

"Therese Racquin" by Emile Zola

Laurent and Therese are having an affair and decide it will best serve their interest if they kill Therese's husband, Camille. As Laurent is throwing Camille from a boat into the Seine river, Camille savagely bites Laurent's neck. This is a strong minor complication, for the reader senses this bite mark will return to haunt Laurent.

"The Great Gatsby" by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Scene 4:

Jordon Baker reveals to the narrator, Nick, details of Tom Buchanan's affair with Myrtle. This never develops to a real "subplot" status, but is a cause of tension and suspense. Unlike some minor complications, this one weaves skillfully into the storyline, for in the end, it is Myrtle who is killed by Daisy as she drives Gatsby's car.

Scene 6:

Minor complication causes verbal fencing between Tom and Daisy, thus putting Nick on edge and enabling him to more thoroughly assess Tom Buchanan's personality.

"Claudius The God," by Robert Graves

(minor complications of geography)

"The occultist led them over three or four miles of rough, boggy country, until they reached the marsh proper. It stank, and the willo the wisp darted about it, and to reach the beginning of the secret track the Guards had to wade thigh-deep after their guide through a slimy pool full of leeches ...

(minor complication in environment requires innovation)

"Each man had his shield slung across his back and a big chalk circle smudged on it. This was to keep touch in the dark without shouting to each other... Aulus had observed that deer follow each other through dark forests guided by the gleam of the white fur patches on each other's rumps... "

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December 5, 2020

So now you're writing the novel, or rewriting it, or preparing to?

There is so much to consider your head has exploded and now you're groping for the parts. Nevertheless, we strongly recommend in this phase somewhere between false confidence and mortifying epiphany that you wisely execute your novel a scene at a time. No better organizing principle than this. Forget chapters, for the moment. Know that each scene serves a purpose, often more than one, e.g., pushing the plot forward while introducing a major secondary character. Each scene also evolves with its own beginning, middle, and end (see the steamy example below).

Btw, if you've not yet done so, great idea to absorb the Six Act Two-Goal Novel before continuing. Also, please review the First Ten Steps, as well as our crucial articles on setting, antagonists, and delivering exposition. Why? Because the points below will make way more sense if viewed in the proper context.

KEY CONCEPTS: story premise, storyboard, dramatic plot instances, novel elements, protagonist vs. antagonist, inciting incident, character evolution, genre novel analysis, inter-scene narrative, sex scene in three parts.

Most Important First Scenes

For starters, below are the first five dramatic plot instances that will appear in your genre novel-in-progress as you develop the novel based on a defined premise and with an aim towards creating a tale just as suspenseful and engaging as any great film.

Note that scenes might not appear in the exact order presented below (except in the case of inciting incident before first major PP). The protagonist might walk onto the stage first or immediately following portrayal of the antagonist, or not be present until after the inciting incident, etc. Nonetheless, these five plot instances occur in their own customized scene (sometimes more than one); and never forget that every major scene, and nearly every minor one, drives plot momentum and complexity in both novels and screenplays as well:

PORTRAYAL OF ANTAGONIST - We witness antagonist power and influence, in whatever way it's made manifest in the context of the story, e.g., the Opus Dei albino hunts his target in the DA VINCI CODE; Assef torments his victims in THE KITE RUNNER; Javert displays his powers and ruthless fanaticism in LES MISERRABLES; the crazed slasher in SCREAM dispatches his first victim... NOTE: the plot instance below can easily be contained within this plot instance also, however, we believe it more powerful if they're distinct.

ANTAGONIST IN POSSESSION OF MAJOR GOAL - What will the protagonist and antagonist struggle to possess or control as the story moves forward? The mafia capo ruthlessly rules the casino; the Big Nurse controls the asylum; Tom Buchanan dominates his wife Daisy; a tyrannical King owns the "Sacred Life Stone."

PORTRAYAL OF PROTAGONIST - The protagonist appears on the page or in the film and the reader knows instinctively she or he will be matched against the antagonist (esp if the antagonist is seen first). Thus, the fate of the protagonist is foreshadowed and "dramatic irony" is manifest, i.e., the reader realizes potential doom, tragedy, or failure even before the protagonist does (thus greatly increasing concern and suspense). For this scene and others that follow keep in mind the protagonist sympathy factors--important for the first scenes!!!

INCITING INCIDENT SCENE - The initial plot instance that sets in motion an inevitable course towards the first major plot point. Katniss takes her sister's place in THE HUNGER GAMES; the general decides to search for Private Ryan in SAVING PRIVATE RYAN; the disappearance of Amy in GONE GIRL engages the town.

FIRST MAJOR PLOT POINT SCENE - Following the INCITING INCIDENT, the protagonist, in one way or another, declares or indicates they will engage in the challenge, fight, or struggle to defeat, curtail, or foil the antagonist; thus, the core rising action or conflict of the novel is launched, as well as beginning the second act of a film: the Hobbits begin their journey to destroy the Ring; Gatsby makes it clear he will reclaim Daisy; Sarah Conner joins the struggle against the Terminator.

Scene Writing by Steps

Now, a couple of points about scene writing in general. Unless you're a veteran, strongly recommend the following advice.

1. Storyboard the scene. What does that mean? In other words, sketching on paper the layout of the scene with major characters and objects to assist with spatial placement and movement as necessary. This could ideally involve a bit of artful drawing combined with scene notes. In your scene notes, include the major characters and the particular set details (where, what, who). State the purpose of the scene in one or two lines and know its relation to the overall plot line going forward, e.g., from the points above, you would state "Inciting incident" and go from there.

Don't overlook all the novel elements that must be established in and around these first five dramatic scenes, and that includes the bulk of necessary exposition, setting details, introduction of major characters and important secondary ones, establishment of the primary conflict or "agon," and more. Refer to the Six Act Two-Goal for additional information.

2. Chart and establish all the major plot instances that follow on the first five above, e.g., your first major reversal. List them and add notes for each one as you consider their role in the novel. Just know, they're not set in stone yet. Editorial development will follow. Refer to the Six Act Two-Goal for additional information.

3. Following on above, and as additional guidance, locate the inciting incident and first major plot point scene in at least three of your favorite genre novels. Analyze these scenes, note how they develop, and begin to write your own experimental scenes based on our notes here, and what you've observed in the examples. THIS IS IMPORTANT! If you begin in this manner, you'll not only get it straight but build confidence in your own ability. The successful development of these crucial first scenes will serve as a vital guidepost going forward.

4. Within the first 50 pages of the novels you've chosen, also note via your careful analysis all the scenes that adjoin, support, and complement the five major dramatic scenes already noted above. Make a list of them and write down the purpose they serve in the novel. THIS WILL BE INVALUABLE to you going forward. Trust us!

Also, overview the types of "glue narrative" (or pre-scene and post-scene narrative: example below) you find between distinct scenes. What purpose do they serve in the novel? Write down your glue narrative observations gathered from the novels you're reading.

5. Character Evolution - as part of the process of sketching and developing your first scenes, take note of character development and roles as the story chugs forward, momentum increasing. Consider the point-of-view character in the particular scene (if written third person POV, this character might well vary from scene to scene) and their predisposition, character traits, back story, and anything else that might be relevant. Why? Because the viewpoint of this character will inevitably bring a certain tone and filter to the scene.

See the NWOE notes on this here. Also, keep in mind that quite often, whatever happens in the scene will bring some degree of change to the character in question--small or large. What will it be? Why will it matter? What purpose will it serve?... Keep in mind too the character's overall arc throughout the novel. Is the scene supporting it, or perhaps, is the scene changing it? That can happen.

6. Once you've drafted a few scenes, up to and including your INCITING INCIDENT, return to them after a few weeks (see Self-Editing Technique) and verify proper application and emphasis of all the major elements. Do you see the cinema? Do you feel the momentum? Is the exposition parceled in properly? Is the suspense there? Is the setting serving its purpose? Is the point of view correct? Are all these scenes developing character and pushing the plot forward at the same time?

BTW, here is another article on advanced scene development. Worth a read.

Inter-scene Narrative and Sex

"Glue narrative" also known to us as inter-scene narrative. Like scene narrative, it delivers the major elements we've discussed so far (exposition, setting, etc.), but outside the framework of an actual scene. It's not live action narrative that makes you feel as if the characters and circumstances are evolving dynamically in front of your eyes, no, rather it mimics a near omniscient or "sweeping" narrator style, immersing the reader in a panoramic world of time shifts, brief flashbacks, energetic exposition, and wide-angle camera vistas--whatever is necessary to relate the story outside the confines of the formal scene.

Quite often, the narrative in question possesses an anecdotal quality to it, whether related in first or third person, and more often than not, dialogue is absent (though exceptions exist, e.g, a short anecdotal flashback wherein a character is heard speaking one or two lines).

The example below of this type of narrative is borrowed from another article on NWOE entitled Brilliant Fiction Narrative in Four Stages .

Senna and her father set the traps together, for Senna possessed the power to see the trails of the animals they hunted--often dangerous trails that led the two of them into wounding thickets or up the slick trunks of tamarand trees, following wild Cholu monkeys that set traps for predators like themselves.
Father never saw the thin shimmering trails in the air, scattered all around and leading every which way, looking as if interweaving spiders had drawn impossibly gigantic webs. He could not mark the passage of living creatures through the world, and his blindness to it seemed like a failure to him. Senna knew he felt jealous. Her instincts often contradicted his own hunting wisdom, and that especially irritated him. But to Senna, her "trail eyes," as she called them, felt natural, her ability effortless and always part of her vision. The newer the path of the animal, the more blue the shimmer. Older ones glowed in hues of green or waned to yellow, and the truly ancient ones softened to a dark red.
Father could only fume, or act annoyed, depending on the hour and his mood. Senna avoided him if his mood darkened, and she feared that further development of her power might make him feel even more obsolete and angry, for her power grew each day.

[transition to live action scene - set-up then into dialogue]

With the arrival of summer, the two of them journeyed once more in search of the Cholu monkeys, knowing full well the dangers, but Cholu fur brought huge rewards in the marketplace in Ulaanbatar, the closest town.
Father insisted on taking the lead during their foray as they ascended into highland country where the tamarand trees thrived in the cooler temperatures of the Massanutten foothills. Senna agreed without a word, just nodded. Over the past year, she'd began to change her mind about hunting the Cholu. She found the practice rather cruel, despite the rewards. She could have sworn that a Cholu once tried to speak to her as it was dying. But the gods knew, talking Cholus or no, Senna and her father desperately needed coin to stay alive--the kind only Ulaanbatar provided.
"We will bag a dozen Cholu this time out," her father said.
"I'm not sure we should," Senna said, her voice weak with anticipation of the consequences.
"What do you mean?"...

So you see, a distinct difference between inter-scene and scene narrative that creates a strong camera eye focus.

And now, a short sex scene by Jennifer Weiner from her novel WHO DO YOU LOVE? Noted below, the beginning, middle, end. Man's point of view, and it ends with his fantasy:

BEGINNING (set-up, light the match, emotional response, reflection)

They walked in silence through the parking lot. When they got to his car, he hugged her, holding her tightly against him, an embrace still on the right side of propriety, one that could still be considered friendly, but only just. When they broke apart, her face was flushed, her eyes shining.
"I hope it won't be another three years before we see each other again."

MIDDLE (decision, action, emotion escalates, narrative verve escalates)

Instead of answering, Rachel reached for him, putting her small, warm hand on the back of his neck, lifting her lips to his. They kissed, first lightly, then more urgently, his tongue in her mouth, her hips tilted against his, her breasts against his chest, her whole body sending a message that was undeniable.
"Want to come up?" he asked.
She'd left her bags in his apartment, with the understanding that they'd pick them up after dinner and he'd take her to the hotel she'd booked. More than once, when they'd been talking, he'd offered her his bed, saying he'd sleep on the couch, and Rachel had turned him down, politely but firmly.
Without a word, she climbed into the passenger seat, smiling at him, saying, "Yes."
They started kissing again. Her tongue fluttered against his, and his hands were deep in the softness of her hair, and it was like time unspooled, carrying them right back to when they were teenagers.

END (verve and action ebb, resolution, reflection)

He pulled her against him, thinking that he'd never get her close enough, that if he could fold her inside of him, like a mother tucking a baby into her coat, he'd do it. He'd keep her warm, he'd keep her safe, he'd keep her with him, always.

_____________

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November 27, 2020

When it comes to rewriting, a writer must make hard choices.

Fitzgerald warned us writers about the danger of becoming way too attached to something you’ve written. "Keep an objective eye on the whole piece," he says, "and if something isn’t working get rid of it."

In a 1933 Saturday Evening Post article titled “One Hundred False Starts,” he writes:

I am alone in the privacy of my faded blue room with my sick cat, the bare February branches waving at the window, an ironic paper weight that says Business is Good, my New England conscience–developed in Minnesota–and my greatest problem:

“Shall I run it out? Or shall I turn back?”

Shall I say:

“I know I had something to prove, and it may develop farther along in the story?”

Or:

“This is just bullheadedness. Better throw it away and start over.”

The latter is one of the most difficult decisions that an author must make. To make it philosophically, before he has exhausted himself in a hundred-hour effort to resuscitate a corpse or disentangle innumerable wet snarls, is a test of whether or not he is really a professional. There are often occasions when such a decision is doubly difficult. In the last stages of a novel, for instance, where there is no question of junking the whole, but when an entire favorite character has to be hauled out by the heels, screeching, and dragging half a dozen good scenes with him.

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The Author Dawn - Rise and Blink · November 26, 2020

What should be percolating in the aborning author's mind from the very start?

Let's Talk About Passion

A few basic questions first. Why are you writing a novel? For reasons of ambition, ego? Well, why not? Most of us, in one way or another, tend the ego. We want recognition, validation, a chance to prove our ability to others and thereby rise above (careful... verging on narcissism). We may need to prove something to ourselves, or more simply, gain a degree of independence from an unsatisfactory mode of existence, the existential nausea of daily grind. We might require purpose, a desire to fill our lives with pursuit that restores us with a mission, and what better way to achieve than by writing a novel? Then, of course, there is the pure need to create, the godlike urge shared by all true artists, or perhaps your particular desire to write the novel results from some or all the above working in synergy.

Regardless, please consider your answers, even before the first steps towards writing the novel are taken. Be honest with yourself, and pause to consider also writing a novel because you have something of value you wish to say--a potent concept, alien to many. You might desire to expose a social injustice, restore an unusual footnote of history, or reveal a new world of experience. Whatever your subject or genre, the realization it must be said, and only you can say it, gifts you with passion (and perhaps even a "theme").

Core Vision and Realization

As follows:

sufficiently tamed

Epiphany Light

Reasons Why Passionate Writers Fail

Now that you've absorbed the above, we'll bridge from that last bullet over to Best Ten Steps for Starting the Novel.

From the heart, but smart. There are no great writers, only great rewriters.

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November 21, 2020

If you've won a Pulitzer you might consider disregarding the advice in this section, but it's not advisable. No article here at NOWE could be more representative of the Algonkian model-and-context method of novel writing than this.

Look at the percentage of authors on the shelf right now who create a character in the hook (first 10 to 15 pages) that will engage reader sympathy, and without hesitation. Quite a few? A novel hook with an interesting, unique, and sympathetic character makes agents sit up and take notice.

This is vital to avoiding a rejection slip, but of course, all must be accomplish in artful fashion.

A few examples of what we're talking about as follows. The name of the character in question follows the title and author. Note that All of the factors listed appear in the first 10 to 15 pages.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon

Christopher John Francis Boone

- A first-person narrative from an autistic 15-year-old protagonist: "My name is Christopher John Francis Boone. I know all the countries of the world and their capital cities and every prime number up to 7,057."

- He finds a dead dog with a garden fork sticking out of it and describes the scene in a detached, emotionless manner, until: "I had been hugging the dog for four minutes when I heard screaming." So this autistic child has a heroic capacity for caring and sympathy. He tells us he likes dogs because they are faithful and "they do not tell lies because they cannot talk." This gives us a sense that the character is moral--which becomes all the more poignant and sympathetic when he is unjustly accused by police of killing the dog.

- He decides to write a murder mystery about the incident. When his teacher Siobhan suggests that a murder mystery about a human might be more compelling, the boy protests that some dogs are cleverer and more interesting than some people. Steve, for example, who comes to the school on Thursdays, needs help to eat his food and could not even fetch a stick ... Thus the protagonist is revealed as a keen and objective observer of the world around him, and in hilarious fashion.

Summary

- Talented and unique - Possesses a handicap - Shows compassion towards others - Possesses a moral sense - Undertakes a challenging task that requires brains and bravery
____________________________

The First Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom

Eddie

Eddie is a wounded war veteran, an old man who has lived, in his mind, an uninspired life. His job is fixing rides at a seaside amusement park. The protagonist is old and infirm, yet polite and optimistic.

- As a kid, he fought to protect his older brother. Scrappy, brave, and protective.

- He likes kids, and they like him. He gives them candy and makes animal figures for them from pipe cleaners. These children are not the offspring of relatives or friends. They are kids that know him from the amusement park where he works. It is hard not to be sympathetic toward someone who likes kids and is kind to them.

- He is generous. He gives his last two $20 bills to a dishwasher so the man can buy something for his wife.

-. On his 83rd birthday, a tragic accident kills him as he tries to save a girl from a falling cart.

Summary

- Possesses a handicap - Protects the weak/shows courage - Generosity and compassion towards others - Brave and self-sacrificing
____________________________

The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd

Lily Owen

Anecdote in fictive past: When Lily was four, she witnessed a fight between her mother and her father and intervened when she saw a gun in her mother's hand. In the scuffle of the fight, the gun went off; Lily was blamed for her mother's death.

Anecdote in fictive present: Lily awakens her father to see the spectacle of swarming bees in her room. When they arrive in her room the bees have vanished and her father, a mean and uncaring man, threatens to severely punish her if she ever again awakens him to anything less than finding the house in flames.

Physical descriptions: Lily's hair is black, like her mother's, but is cowlicky and she looks unkempt because she's never had a woman in her life who could guide her in how to take proper care of herself. She's a fourteen-year old white girl, has almost no chin, but does have Sophia Loren eyes, even though this attribute isn't enough to get her noticed by even the loser-guys. She wears ill-fitting clothes she makes for herself in home ec. class at school because her father won't let her buy any new clothes.

Personal Attributes: She's clever, imaginative and bright. The swarm of bees fascinates, rather than frightens her. One of her teachers tells her that she's very intelligent and she shouldn't settle for any career short of being a professor or writer. This sets her to reevaluating possibilities in her life because, prior to this, her highest aspiration had been to attend beauty school and become a hairdresser.

Summary

- Brave and self-sacrificing - Victim of an antagonistic personality - Pitiable due to struggle to compensate for abusive antagonist - Possesses special gifts
____________________________

The Life of Pi by Yann Martel

Piscine Molitor Patel

General Background: He was raised in Pondicherry, India, the small, formerly French-occupied section of India, at a zoo where his father was founder, owner, director, head of a staff of fifty-three, and which Piscine viewed as "paradise on earth." He was educated at the University of Toronto where he double-majored in religious studies and zoology.

General Concern: The first two lines in the book, bring instant concern for him: "My suffering left me sad and gloomy," and goes on to say, "Academic study and the steady, mindful practice of religion slowly brought me back to life."

Attitude toward Life: He has suffered a great deal in life, and reports and he has learned to adjust to the pain of being alive by accepting both the folly of success and the slight one feels when success slips from reach. He concludes that the reason death always hovers nearby is because of its love for life and we get the sense he loves life. He appreciates the abundance of resources he has access to and we're to assume this is a love cultivated through great deprivation.

Personal Attributes: He's a hard-working, determined person who is very bright, very observant, and infinitely patient. He was the only one in his family who learned how to swim, but he was determined to learn because of his great respect for the man who wanted to teach him and who was responsible for his name, which he shares with a famous Paris swimming pool. He excelled in school and while gathering data for his degree in zoology, he concentrated on observing the sloth in its natural habitat because, "... its demeanourâ€”calm, quiet and introspectiveâ€”did something to soothe my shattered self."

Summary

- Victim of "suffering" - He's a fighter - Introspective/observant/wise - Unique personality
____________________________

Bel Canto by Ann Patchett

Roxane Coss

Special Attributes: Roxane is a gifted opera diva. She possesses a voice of crystalline clarity so richly textured everyone who hears her sing can instantly appreciate the wonder and beauty of her vocal talent. It matters little the background of the listener. They may have come to her performance with a well-trained ear or they may have no more understanding of music than can be gathered from a life spent slogging through the mud of a harsh jungle environment; they may have been listening to music all their long-lived lives, or they may be young children staying up past their bedtimes; they may be women, men or adolescentsâ€”no matter, gratitude for having heard her is universal among those who have had the privilege of hearing her perform.

Reactions of Others: Men desire her. All of the men in attendance at the concert long to be included in the kiss given her in the dark by her accompanist. One of the most powerful businessmen in Japan has flown half-way around the world to be in her presence even as he dislikes traveling, dislikes celebrating his birthday and the occasion is his birthday, and dislikes being with large groups of people he doesn't know, which is the current venue. Over the five years that he's been aware of her talent, he has sought out her performances around the world. She obviously has a magnetic pull on people. Her accompanist willingly places himself as a shield between her and the invading guerrillas. Not until he is poked with guns does he relinquish his protective covering of her body.

Physical Attributes: On the floor, her hair spread out around her in such a wondrous array, each terrorist makes a point of walking past her just to look at her beautiful hair. Her perfume is delicate yet intoxicating, again noticeable by the guerrilla soldiers even on this night when the air is pungent with the near-presence of death.

Personal Attributes: She is generous with her talent and offers to sing in the dark before the assembled audience becomes aware of the horror of the circumstance they're in. As she lies on the floor, she removes the hairpins from her hair and places them on her stomach in case others can use them as weapons, giving us a sense that she is also a bit brave, another sympathetic character trait.

Summary

- Unique talent/accomplished - Magnetic presence - Cherished by Others - Generous - Courageous
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Third Degree by Patterson and Gross

San Francisco Homicide Lieutenant Lindsay Boxer

- The protagonist is a successful woman in a traditionally male occupation (homicide detective), and she has earned the respect of her male colleagues.

- She owns a dog and talks to it as if it were a roommate. She uses her body to shield the dog from harm in a dangerous situation.

- She is brave; she goes into a burning building to save strangers. She risks her life to save a young child.

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November 10, 2020

Before the novel, there was drama...

Ancient dramatists understood the requirements of a good tale, one in which willful human beings engaged in major conflict, the goal being to possess or achieve something of value. A designated character, by virtue of position and personality, became the antagonist, naturally defying the efforts of the protagonist, or hero, to overcome. This basic conflict scenario resurfaces again and again in a myriad of forms, not only in life, but in novels, short stories, and of course, film and television. What makes true dramatic conflict so universally effective is not only its ability to create tension, suspense, and powerful characters, but its unique method for portraying the need for value in human existence.

Below we've created a drama primer with quotes ("European Theories of the Drama") from three important dramatists to illustrate the nature of the drama and it's overwhelming relevancy to novel writing discussion here at WE. It's all pretty simple and brief, actually, but the major points are invaluable to the novel writing mindset.

KEY CONCEPTS: calamity, value in human life, universal human desire, dramatic art, essential character of drama, the "discovery," the wound, social conflict, the enlightenment of tragedy, tragic flaw, fear and pity.

J. W. Krutch

― Its action [drama] is usually, if not always, calamitous, because it is only in calamity that the human spirit has the opportunity to reveal itself triumphant over the outward universe which fails to conquer it.

― Tragedy reveals value in human life … The death of a loved character, for example, reveals a value, something worth cherishing about life or humanity.

― Art should, at least in part, satisfy the universal human desire to find in the world some justice, some meaning, or at the very least, some recognizable order.

― The highest dramatic art is not achieved by pitting the most gigantic will against the most absolute necessity. The agonized struggle of a weak will, seeking to adjust itself to an inhospitable environment, may contain elements of poignant drama.

― The essential character of drama is social conflict in which the conscious will, exerted for the accomplishment of specific and understandable aims, is sufficiently strong to bring the conflict to a point of crisis.

― Drama should lead up to and away from a central crisis, and this crisis should consist in a discovery by the protagonist which has an indelible effect on his or her thought and emotion and completely alters his or her course of action.

Arthur Miller

For Arthur Miller, the underlying struggle is that of the individual attempting to gain his or her "rightful" position in society. "Sometimes he is the one who has been displaced from it, sometimes one who seeks to attain it for the first time, but the wound from which the inevitable events spiral is the wound of indignity."

It is this "tragic flaw," this unwillingness to remain passive in the face of what she or he conceives to be a challenge to personal dignity, that causes the protagonist to initiate the action of the tale, i.e., the rising drama. If the struggle of the protagonist is just, if she or he contests for a fair evaluation, then those conditions which deny this reveal a wrong, or an evil in the world. Thus, the "enlightenment of tragedy."

Pathos is achieved in struggling for a goal that cannot possibly be won, however possible it seemed in the beginning.

John Dryden

Insofar as the protagonist is concerned, the primary emotional reactions on the part of the reader are fear and pity. Fear during the course of the drama that the protagonist will meet a tragic fate, and pity for the protagonist at such time this occurs. Pity, or sympathy, cannot occur unless the character is respected. Thus, it is true concern for the protagonist that produces the highest emotion.

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November 7, 2020

You begin your first novel with equal parts ignorance and false optimism.

Many months, or even years later, you finally learn the enormity of your mistakes. Those popular writer magazines and the sociable little group of amateur writers that looked like a great plan, at first, now appear unreliable and even time wasting. At this juncture, you will either deny reality, quit altogether, or else vow to become a true and humble apprentice to the art of novel writing.

Ne confondez jamais une seule défaite avec une défaite finale.

- F. Scott

The process above is nearly inevitable for the vast majority of aspiring authors, and only the eternal narcissist is incapable of achieving a productive second stage. We've discussed this subject more than once. Of course, such a personality will always disagree and fume like a child, but what about less volatile, less serious forms of counterproductive ego?

About a year past, a screenplay writer I knew who lived in Kalamazoo called and asked me to help him convert his screenplay into a novel. I'd known this fellow for years (let's call him BOB) and he'd won various contests, even had a thriller-action screenplay optioned a few times by major studios, including Lions Gate. Nonetheless, he decided one day to convert one of his script creations into a full blown commercial novel, and intended to accomplish this incredible transformation in no less than six months. After all, he needed to make haste in order to attend a writer conference in Seattle where he felt reasonably certain a "smart agent" would sign him.

Now, I knew that Bob wasn't a narcissist as such. I'd been present when he accepted critique, and I'd been around him and talked with him enough that I would have seen the N flag raised more than once. Like other writer workshop leaders and teachers, I possess a fairly good sense for narcissist eruptions in the making, even in the early stages. But this wasn't Bob's way, as I've noted. However, upon speaking with him on the phone about his forced novel conversion deadline (keep in mind, he knew zip about novel writing), he reacted with disbelief. He could not grasp that transforming a 96 page screenplay into an 86,000+ word novel could actually take longer, perhaps far longer than six months.

Even if he were already a veteran novel writer working under the best of circumstances, it would most likely take eight to 12 months to augment and gilt a sufficiently suitable masterpiece. But as a rank beginner, we must assume that between the clueless planning and actual execution (that would include at least three major revisions), then a final editorial scalding of one kind or another (barring any Oh-Shit-I-Neglected-to-do-XYZ), Bob was looking at a minimum of two years, but perhaps upwards of four or more. If he devoted full-time and worked closely with a professional novel editor, page by page, scene by scene, line by line, perhaps only one year? But the dollar cost would be tremendous.

Regardless, Bob avoided me after that phone conversation for a long time. I emailed him, inquired now and then, but he would always sound optimistic without divulging details. Finally, more than four years later, we got together one night for dinner. He was excited to tell me he'd written a new thriller with a major Hollywood producer behind it, and when I inquired about the novel conversion, he just shook his head and said, "I've moved on."

Via a few other bits of information reluctantly delivered, I surmised that Bob had finally assembled a creaking shipwreck of a manuscript within a year's time, sent it out to agents, and following 50 or more boilerplate rejections, the ms finally served as cheap tinder for the living room fireplace.

The above is one of my stand-out examples, but there are many. These writers in question were not narcissists as such, no, but their egos just couldn't allow them to believe they were wrong in certain crucial circumstances, or accept they did not yet possess the necessary skill-set to accomplish the huge task before them.

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November 6, 2020

Have you ever been in writer workshops and reacted to criticism of your writing or story by demanding the other writer defend their decision in such detail that it served your purpose of making certain they never gave you unfavorable critique again?

Hell hath no fury like a thin-skinned narcissist with a needy manuscript... But wait!

Could you be one of them? In case you're not sure if your skin qualifies, Algonkian psychologists have developed a few skin test questions below. Feel free to respond honestly to yourself as you read each one. Everyone wishes to avoid time-wasting instances of Offended Writer Syndrome (OWS) that often takes place in writer workshops all across America. Even at this very moment!

Now, time to take THE THIN SKIN TEST:

Has any writer ever prefaced their critique of your work by first saying to you, "Don't hate me, please?"
Do you sense that writers who unfavorably critique your work are "loading the gun" and taking aim?
Do you rush to defend your work when a reader gives you criticism rather than absorb and weigh it carefully?
Do you feel a need to say unkind things about a writer's work if you perceive she or he was unkind to you first?
Have you ever chastised any writer for what you consider to be improper or incorrect critique of your work?
Have you ever been in writer workshops and reacted to criticism of your writing or story by demanding the other writer defend their decision in such detail that it served your purpose of making certain they never gave you unfavorable critique again?
Do you receive critique you oppose in good humor, but routinely seek the negation of it from those you know will agree with your version of reality?
Do you feel a bout of OWS coming on after reading the above questions?

If you answered yes to three or more of the above questions, writer workshops are definitely not for you. Please discontinue attending such events. They won't help you and you can't help but make them less productive for everyone else.

You might even make *yourself* miserable.

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November 6, 2020

The literary science of accomplishing exposition is set in stone.

The inexperienced writer dumps it like rocky weights on the reader's head (or not at all).The experienced author delivers at the right time and place, fusing it within the narrative flow so as to avoid the appearance of artifice. But wait, let's provide a simple definition before going further: "exposition" is that sum of information which must be delivered to the reader to enable them to fully understand the plot of the novel going forward.

Generally speaking, the reader learns exposition in a similar manner to the way life teaches it, e.g., upon moving into a new neighborhood, you learn the background history of the neighbors a bit at a time. They tell you about themselves, and others, as circumstances and conditions permit. By combining these fragments, you are finally able to perceive the entire picture of neighborhood society.

The example above should give us a clue as to the best methods for delivering exposition. Here we arrive at classic SHOW, DON'T TELL situation. Consider plays and screenplays. How do the writers of these fictional products deliver exposition? Primarily via characters engaging in expositional dialogue at the right time and place (see novel examples below with Gatsby and Sun Also Rises).

NOTE: keep in mind that most if not all major exposition MUST be delivered to the reader by the time the FIRST MAJOR PLOT POINT arrives (usually within the first 50 pages or earlier). It only makes sense. The reader must understand the backstory and exposition before the course of the plot changes and creates the major rising action of the tale. If this doesn't take place it would be equivalent of a friend telling you about the car accident she had yesterday, beginning the story by saying: "And then the car exploded and I was taken to the hospital." Doesn't work. You have no context, no backstory. Where had she been driving? What caused the explosion? etc.

Below are a few character and narrative techniques for delivering exposition.

From The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Nick, the narrator and friend of Gatsby, has been dating Jordon Baker, a friend of Daisy. Using Jordon in a scene dedicated to expositional purposes, the author conjures up Daisy's past by means of dialogue and narrative, thus revealing that Gatsby was a former boyfriend of Daisy's (surprise) while further exposing the nature of Daisy's marriage to Tom, including notes on his infidelity. The past of the major characters is revealed, the present given orientation, and as a bonus, the novel's major source of dramatic tension is further advanced (i.e., Gatsby's attempt to renew his relationship with Daisy), and suspense increased thereby.

NOTE: F. Scott uses anecdotal recollection and dialogue with a minor character to deliver exposition on the major characters. It seems natural, of course, since Jordon is involved with Nick, the narrator, and at the same time involved in the lives of Tom and Daisy. She serves F. Scott as the perfect vehicle for delivering expo, arguably existing in the novel solely for this purpose.

Authors of novels, plays and screenplays, almost always create characters to deliver exposition at the right time and place.

From One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest by Ken Kesey

In Scene 12 of One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest (btw, the bestselling American novel of all time), a conversation takes place between McMurphy, the protagonist, and Harding, one of the more intelligent patients. In this scene which begins the first major plot point, Harding delivers a final dose of exposition on the insidious workings of the asylum wherein they are imprisoned. It all boils down to one thing: if one doesn't cooperate with the therapy sessions and provide answers to questions in a suitable manner, he is labeled "Uncooperative," and if irritation is finally demonstrated, relabeled "Potential Assaultive" and immediately whisked off to the Disturbed Ward where a final fate of electro-shock awaits if cooperation isn't achieved.

According to Harding:

And, my friend, if you continue to demonstrate such hostile tendencies, such as telling people to go to hell, you get lined up to go the Shock Shop, perhaps even on to greater things, an operation... The Shock Shop, Mr. McMurphy, is jargon for the EST machine, the Electro Shock Therapy. A device that might be said to do the work of the sleeping pill... You are strapped to a table, shaped, ironically, like a cross, with a crown of electric sparks in place of thorns... Enough of these treatments and you could turn out like Mr. Ellis you see over there against the wall. A drooling, pants-wetting idiot at thirty-five.

Once the above is accomplished, the reader finally understands the dangers and insidious workings of the asylum environment, thereby establishing concern for McMurphy once he announces he will challenge the authorities and make a game of it. His announcement is the foundation of the first major plot point.

From The Sun Also Rises by Hemingway

The narrator and main character, Jake, meets up with Robert Cohn, a friend who has become enamored with his Jake's love, Brett Ashley. The following dialogue, crackling with tension, aids in characterizing the narrator and Cohn, providing a foreshadow of Cohn‘s temper yet to come. Hemingway also uses this scene for the same purpose as Kesey in Scene 12 above: the final exposition we need to understand is delivered here and the first major point begins, i.e., at this point, the story transitions effectively to Robert Cohn's ongoing pursuit of Ashley.

From Wise Blood by Flannery O'Connor

During the course of narrative in the beginning of the novel, a triggering device subtly begins an associative process in the mind of the major character that redirects the narrative flow towards exposition of his life. The character is riding on a train:

He crawled into the dark narrow space of the berth. In his half sleep he thought where he was lying was like a coffin. The first coffin he had seen with someone in it was his grandfather‘s.

An artful obscuring of the author‘s purpose occurs when the exposition is partially "masked." In this particular case, a form of masking is accomplished by fixating the reader's attention with narrative so engaging that nothing but the subject at hand matters. For example, no sooner is the grandfather recalled in the coffin than Flannery O‘Connor animates the corpse, making it appear as though it will suddenly rear up and prevent death from closing down on it. The author thus seeds the exposition with a provocative image to counterbalance.

The character's past can now be discussed via berth to coffin. He wanders a dreamscape that reveals items of backstory.

To later resume the non-expositional narrative, another triggering device is used to transit the reader back to the present. The character finds himself going to sleep in an old house. His thoughts conjure the image of his mother in a coffin, and then, himself in the coffin in her stead: "From inside he saw it closing." Abruptly he awakens, frightened, but safe in his berth on the train.

The character has left the expositional dream and returned to novel reality.

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November 6, 2020

From the desk of Jeff Lyons.

The last decade has given birth to the biggest revolution in the printed word since the invention of movable type. The convergence of software technology, legacy print publishing, and the Internet has leveled the playing field and given most people the ability to read, write, and distribute the printed word on unprecedented scales. Now, anyone with the will to write can find an audience, publish their work, and make a life for themselves as an authorpreneur.

Along with this self-publishing revolution has come a series of mini-revolts. One of those involves a major shift in the traditional way novels have been adapted for the screen. Creative writers of every stripe are now searching for a way into the ever-growing ocean of print and e-books. Among them are screenwriters hoping to leverage a prose fan base in order to, ironically, get their original script ideas sold as movies or television programs.

A Changing Industry

Traditionally published novels have always been a lucrative source of literary properties for the entertainment industry. But in the last decade, more and more self-published books have joined the page-to-screen trend and are responsible for building some of the biggest entertainment franchises, supporting billions of dollars in global box office revenue [e.g., Amanda Brown's Legally Blonde, E.L. James's Fifty Shades of Grey, Andy Weir's The Martian].

While this fits with the familiar pattern of adapting books to film (or TV), something else is happening, something that was not possible prior to the self-publishing revolution: Screenwriters are adapting their screenplays to novels, so that they can attract producers to option those adaptations for film/TV development. Yes, you read that right: Rather than writing the book first, then optioning to a production company, and then writing the screenplay based on the book, the trend now is script first, then book, and next the option sale, followed by a rewrite or full-on purchase of the original script that started the process. In many ways, the old model of adaptation has been turned on its head.

There are many reasons for this new mini-revolt among screenwriters, not the least of which is that selling a screenplay or teleplay is nearly impossible, even for experienced screenwriters. But with more producers and production companies scouring the self-publishing world for material, it only makes sense that screenwriters should want to dust off all their old screenplays and jump into the adaptation game. Why? Because a novel with a built-in audience makes a sounder investment than a spec script coming in over the agent transom or through the conventional script pipeline.

This has always been true for traditionally published novels, and now it is increasingly true for self-published books. What this means is that a new sales channel has opened for screenwriters wanting to leverage their work in multiple distribution windows: film, television, and print. And even if the movie/TV windows fall short, the writer still has the print/e-book property to fall back on. It's win-win for writers.

How to Adapt?

So, screenwriters should just write a "book“ right? How hard can writing a novel be? There are tons of how-to books on the market with tips, tricks, and "top 10 secrets" for knocking out a novel, so just go buy a book and start writing.

Think again.

Developing a true prose voice and bringing that prose sensibility to your writing, is daunting at best, and insanity-inducing at worst.

This same bad advice is often given to novelists who want to write screenplays i.e., just do it. Yes, there are many how-to books on how to adapt novels to screenplays, and several now deal with how to adapt screenplays to prose. But anyone who writes screenplays will tell any novelist that there is a "screenplay sensibility" that has to be developed in order to write a professional screenplay. You just can't follow some cookie-cutter how-to book.

The same is true for screenwriters trying to write their first novel. Developing a "prose voice," and bringing that prose sensibility to your writing, is daunting at best, and insanity-inducing at worst. I know, because I've just survived the process myself.

As a screenwriter, I bought the books, and tried out the cookie cutter, and realized that because of our training, screenwriters face specific challenges that make us ill-equipped to handle novel-writing. Some of those challenges are story-development related, and others are writing-process related. But no how-to book, no story guru, and no "top 10 secrets" list can coach you through them. They can only be overcome by doing. Knowing the road ahead of you, before you start the adaptation process, can at least prepare you for the potholes, pitfalls, and hairpin turns you will encounter along the way.

Here are the six basic hurdles you will need to clear as you learn the process of novel adaption.

Mistakes to Avoid When You Adapt

Prose sensibility vs. screenplay sensibility

"Sensibility" is defined as "the ability to appreciate and respond to complex emotional or aesthetic influences." Screenwriters and novelists respond to that complexity very differently.

The basic mantra for screenwriters is:

- Keep it clear;

- Less is more;

- Show, don't tell;

- Get to the emotional point, and move on;

- Move fast and don't waste time with exposition beyond what you need to set the scene.

The movie or the TV show is the finished product; a screenplay is not. Scripts are only one step in a complex chain of events leading to the final show or film. As a result, screenwriters don't write scripts for the reading experience (though they have to be written well).

Yet the biggest issue for screenwriters-turned-novelists concerns what I call "story real estate." You have around 110 pages of story real estate for a feature film, and around 52 pages for an hour-long TV drama. Screenwriters don't have the luxury of story real estate to go long, or deep, or too complex in character development, emotional resonance, backstory, etc.

Unlike with screenplays, novels are meant to be read, not produced, and the finished book is a final product, ready to be consumed by an audience.

But prose is all about language, the written word, the musicality and rhythm of the sentence, paragraph, and chapter. Unlike with screenplays, novels are meant to be read, not produced, and the finished book is a final product, ready to be consumed by an audience.

In fact, there are many novels with weak or non-existent stories that captivate readers solely on the power of the written word (In Search of Lost Time, Marcel Proust; Lectures in America, Gertrude Stein). This would never happen with a screenplay; having a weak story, or worse, no story, equals an immediate "pass" from anyone in the industry.

So the mantra for novelists is:

- Show, don't tell, but exposition is your friend, and a necessary one;

- You have no strict length constraints, so write, write, write;

- Go deep, go long; leave no emotional stone unturned.

- Story real estate is never an issue. Sure, you may have some constraints with publishers in terms of page count, but novels have no set limits based on time constraints (unlike a 52-minute drama or a two-hour feature film).

Ironically, however, having no constraints can be as crippling a liability as having too-tight constraints. Which is more frightening: looking into a yawning abyss, or into a six-foot trench? Novelists face this abyss and can find themselves paralyzed.

So screenwriters and novelists see the world of storytelling in very different ways, and have very different observing devices for interpreting their fictional worlds. Shifting from a screenwriting sensibility to a prose sensibility is the hardest hurdle you will face and also the most difficult one to wrap your head around. It can only be accomplished by writing prose and having your writing critiqued by great readers and other prose writers. It's a school of hard knocks, I'm afraid.

Novel-writing is a brand-new craft; a new skill set must be learned. Invest in good teachers, and never use screenwriters as your beta readers. You need feedback from people who are voracious book readers, not film/TV fans.

Point of View, Voice, & Tense

The next hurdle is one that ties every writer into knots: point of view (POV), narrative voice, and tense. Screenwriters don't have to worry about any of this, because screenplays are all written in third person and present tense (though dialogue might have some first person voiceover), and narrative voice in scripts is conveyed mostly through character dialogue, not exposition. The voice of the work lies completely in the spoken word. For novelists, however, POV, tense, and narrative voice are complicated and intricately tied to the writing. (See "POV and Voice: A Novelist's Toolkit" for more information.)

So, screenwriters have one POV, one tense, and a limited flexibility in narrative voice through dialogue, helped out occasionally by stylistic or colorful exposition. Novelists have at least five POVs, two tenses, and unlimited flexibility with voice. How does a screenwriter adapt to all this flexibility? Once again, it is all in the writing. You have to play with all of these options to see what works for the story, and this takes time and effort. Even novelists struggle with POV and tense. It is not unusual for novelists to write a book once in one POV/tense and then do a rewrite of the entire book that changes both POV and tense. Experiment, play around, and you'll find your way.

Subplots AND Supporting Characters

Subplots exist in screenplays, but not like they do in novels. Screenwriters have to learn the proper use of sub-plotting and how it plays into expanding supporting characters who have their own stories within the story. There are many different kinds of subplots (i.e., the need subplot, expositional or background subplot, thematic subplot (to name just a few), but most screenwriters are used to just one or two subplots. (Very few screenwriters know how to weave multiple storylines together to support a mainline narrative, and these are almost always employed in films with large ensemble casts.) But even in a screenplay with a small cast and only one main storyline, multiple subplots will need to be created in the translation to prose.

This is one of the key areas where screenplays always have to be expanded to accommodate the novel form, because subplots support the middle of the novel, and the middle is where most stories fall apart. Coming up with two, three, or four "sub-stories" from a screenplay that tells only one major storyline can be nerve-racking and intimidating, but this hurdle must be traversed if your screenplay is going to support a three- or four-hundred page narrative. But don't despair: look to key supporting characters and let your imagination run by giving them their own stories within the story. Just know that you will initially crack your shins on this hurdle.

Narrative Scope

Narrative scope refers to the complexity of the story form. In prose fiction, novelists have many "containers" to choose from: short story, novelette, novella, novel, and the series. Screenwriters also have various "containers" to choose from: feature film, series, hour-long drama, half-hour sitcom, and the short. Each screenplay format has its own peculiarities and requirements, and screenwriters are well aware of the constraints and demands for each.

The same holds true for novelists. But screenwriters have to study prose forms in order to understand their oddities and demands before any adaptation is attempted. For example, each prose format has word count considerations that must be understood: short story (7,500 or less), novelette (7,500-17,000), novella (17,000-30,000), novel (30,000 and above). A screenwriter must learn to gauge which prose "container" is best suited to his or her screenplay and story.

Reworking the Premise

Adapting a novel to screenplay format always means deleting material and reducing the story to fit the constraints of film or TV. This often means reworking the original story so that it can fit the page limits of the script format under consideration (feature, hour-long drama, etc.).

The same is true moving from script to novel. The screenplay's premise will almost always have to be reinvented to build in subplots, new action lines, and more complex story elements. The knee jerk is to use the script as a great outline for the book, i.e., follow the script's story beats and all will be well.

This almost never works.

In my opinion, no how-to book, no story guru, and no master class can really prepare you for jumping. However, if you can at least know what is waiting for you in the high grass, you can avoid surprises and prepare yourself so that your transition from script to novel becomes an encounter and not a confrontation.

If you do not go into the adaptation process with a mindset that you will have to retool your story from the ground up, then you may be setting yourself up for major struggles down the development road.

Showing and Telling vs. Show, Don't Tell

Screenplays are about showing everything on the sleeve. There is some very minor telling (in the form of montages), but "show, don't tell" is a must in this purely visual medium. Yet novels allow for far more telling than showing. This is naturally difficult for screenwriters, because the script development process rejects long exposition and non-visual storytelling. Learning how to utilize lengthier exposition requires a whole new mindset.

One of the telltale signs that the screenwriter is a novelist is that their exposition tends to be many paragraphs long - a kiss of death for any screenplay. In contrast, for screenwriters trying to write prose, the opposite is true; exposition tends to be short, curt, stunted, and in sentence fragments. The solution is not some simplistic strategy of writing in complete sentences and adding more words for the sake of volume.

The key to success is learning how to leverage all the story real estate by going deeper into the motivations of your characters, finding lyrical ways of describing the story world, and luxuriating in writing that fills in the expositional holes of the story organically, using just the right amount of words.

The two main potholes waiting for you here are rambling, overly detailed descriptions and purple prose (extravagant or ornate prose that breaks the narrative flow and screams "Isn't my writing clever?"). You will do both, so get over that anxiety. But you will ultimately find the balance between economy of words, meaningful content, and proper pacing.

These are six important hurdles that must be leapt over in order to make your script a successful novel. In my opinion, no how-to book, no story guru, and no master class can really prepare you for jumping. However, if you can at least know what is waiting for you in the high grass, you can avoid surprises and prepare yourself so that your transition from script to novel becomes an encounter and not a confrontation.

POV and Voice: A Novelist's Toolkit

First-person (present/past)

The story is told from the point of view of the "I" narrator, who only knows what she or he sees and experiences, so all feelings, questions, and internal thoughts are in the narrative voice of a unique individual.

Third-person limited (present/past)

The entire story is told through the viewpoint of one character, using the pronouns he or she.

Third-person unlimited (present/past)

The story is told through the viewpoints of two or more characters, with shifting points of view.

Second-person (present/past)

The story is told by the storyteller to another "person" using the word "you." This is the rarest POV used in fiction today.

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Jeff Lyons is a published author, teacher, screenwriter, and story development consultant with more than 25 years of experience in the film, TV, and publishing industries. His book, Anatomy of a Premise Line, is published through Focal Press. Web: jefflyonsbooks.com.

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November 5, 2020

As you explore the nooks and literary crannies here, you'll find considerable words devoted to warning you away from foolish and terrible advice.

But what about professional, tested, and proven advice? Below are ten bullet points for aspiring authors designed to help them overcome any confusion or misdirection when it comes to starting the novel. However, before you investigate, make certain you've already prepared by reading this sensible prologue.

Note: the list below makes a base assumption that the writer is a relative novice and currently searching for direction and focus--the same stage we've all endured. For those in the second stage, or higher, the list might well begin further down. Nonetheless, we cannot stress enough how important it is to fully understand your genre. Eat and breathe it. Know the currents in the market, what makes for a "high concept" story in this context. You'll never be published otherwise.

KEY CONCEPTS: genre, high concept, Publisher's Marketplace, self-editing, readers, core development strategies, craft and research, story premise, SATG Novel, novel hook, first draft outline, inciting incident, plot point.

Choose Your Genre

Historical, thriller, women's fiction, mystery cozy, etc. Focus on one that will consume you, one you have passion for. Passionless choice never bodes well (can you guess why?). If on the fence, consider what kind of author do you wish to be known as five years from now? A thriller author? Horror author? Mystery?... Makes a difference, no? So be specific and take a slot (no "slot" shaming). You are attempting to break into a crowded and tough marketplace with a breakout novel. As of this point, you have no real idea how difficult it will really be in a country as big as America. Best to begin wisely.

WARNING: failing to locate yourself firmly in one genre will only result in failure. And believe us when we tell you that agents and publishers will be merciless in their demand that you understand and obey the rules of that genre. From the heart, but smart. One last thing--you cannot invent your own genre. Don't try. Don't even ask. For the love of all that is holy!

Mercilessly Immerse

Read the classics in your genre combined with the latest and hottest. Look up "best book" lists, read reviews on Amazon, dive into review journals dedicated to your genre, and obtain a membership at Publisher's Marketplace. It's never too early to familiarize yourself with who is publishing what in your genre. At PM it's all there. And no, we don't get a kickback. As a bonus, you get to review expertly written hook lines for new novels bought by publishers, thereby also getting a chance to note the type of high concept stories in the works. Invaluable! Truly.

Via obsessive immersing, you'll also get an idea which authors and novels might compare favorably with you and your own work. Strongly consider analyzing story progression, character introduction, and scene development in three to five of the best in your genre. Take notes. Compare what you've learned to what you read here at NWOE.

Avoid Writer Groups

Do not join a local or online writer group, however socially alluring it may be, and regardless of what its apostles tell you. Don't fall for it. We know, it feels like the right thing because so many recommend it, but it's the wrong thing by a mile. You *might* consider it a year or two from now once you've developed enough novel writing savvy to actually know the difference between an amateur group that *might* be somewhat productive and one that could be potentially ruinous or time wasting at a minimum. Review carefully our notes on this crucial and controversial subject.

Begin the Reader Hunt

Following on above, attempt to engage upwards of five good readers, if humanly possible. It will take time to ID the right ones, so begin the hunt early. Take note, they will not be in a group. They will not meet to discuss your work. If possible, best they do not interact or know each other. This condition will disallow the inevitable evolution of group politics, groupthink, imagined slights, false flattery, etc. Yes, it can happen. Regardless, can your picks be reasonably trusted to provide generally intelligent reaction to your narrative? You might have to jettison a few. Be prepared. Additionally, serving as a reader for them will provide you with a form of editorial experience that might prove invaluable.

IMPORTANT: utilize "beta readers" for narrative purposes only (prose style, clarity, imagery, dynamic motion, dialogue quality--that sort of thing), NEVER for novel development, i.e., premise, plot, character roles, important setting details, etc. Engaging in the latter imperiling act will only threaten your progress with those insidious major flaws inherent in 98% of writer groups.

Study Self-editing Technique

Do it carefully, it's an art form, even if you're not onto your second draft yet. No reason to delay. It takes experimentation and practice. Relying exclusively on your readers or future freelance editors is a mistake. Ultimately, you are responsible for the final product. Faith should not be necessary. Also, keep in mind, the more refined your fiction narrative waxes, the more productive the future editorial professionals engaged to review your work can be, i.e., if you've already ascended to level 8, they can bump you to level 10. Now, what about that contract?

Craft Until Your Head Hurts

While researching your genre, immerse simultaneously into your core novel development strategy. Don't rush it or fret over it. You will inevitably revise. Meanwhile, utilize NWOE as a staging platform for the illuminating pursuit of obligatory craft technique. This is NOT an option. Devour every single article or essay on development, drama, plotting, prose, and viewpoints. Set aside a space for experimentation. Practice writing scenes, dialogue, complex descriptions for starters. Additionally, consume only the best books on novel writing.

You will ALWAYS be an apprentice to your craft. Let Truman Capote be an inspiration.

Conceive Primary Premise

Given that you've chosen your genre and you're well on your way to possessing a true literary skill set (it's not easy, so don't be impatient), and given you've taken careful note of the quality of new novels coming to life at Publisher's Marketplace (have you?), you may now begin to formulate your own novel premise, the "high concept" story that will form the development, writing, and marketing basis of your genre novel from title to last sentence.

Uncertain on how to go about it? One way to initiate a bit of productive pondering is to visit the High Concept page first, followed by the Loglines and Core Wounds page. Read carefully. Note the three "hook line" examples. Consider WHAT WILL BE YOUR CORE CONFLICT, AND WHAT WILL BE THE CORE WOUND? (all caps for emphasis). Play with it. Write down options. Choose wisely. Seek discreet professional advice if necessary.

Begin the Planning Process

Engage in a careful examination of the Six Act Two-Goal Novel. With your embryonic story concept nearing the birth canal, use the SATG Novel outline to assist with beginning to conceive smaller parts of the bigger picture. At each separate stage, from Act to Act, take a deep breath and sketch ideas, circumstances, characters into your electronic notebook. Be free and easy with the process. Jot down everything that comes to mind. Keep in mind it's all in dynamic flux. It can change. Just as importantly, attempt to finalize insofar as possible your novel's major setting. Extremely important. Organize your thoughts, questions, commentary, and scenarios as needed. Have fun with it.

Imagination is truly your best friend (even if you don't like the original Willy Wonka).

Sketch a Draft Outline

No need to engage in overmuch detail. Make certain your story premise is commercially viable and your chosen setting is simmering. Have on hand sketches of your major and secondary characters. Use the SATG to locate and ruminate over your major plot points.

Sketch your inciting incident and first major plot point. Go from there to your first major reversal, pinch point, etc., all the way to climax. Keep in mind this is all a draft, yes, however it should reflect your efforts to date at fleshing out your genre story. Consider also, not just your basic plot but those special points, twists, and turns demanded by your chosen genre, e.g., if writing a cozy mystery you best get that body on the first page (or pretty close). Refer to steps 1 and 2 above.

Draft Your Hook Scenes

Don't think of the novel in units of chapter. Think of it as units of scene, each scene dedicated to a particular task, and each driving the plot forward (a must) in one way or another. I use the term "hook scenes" to refer to that combination of opening scenes that will lead us through the initial set-up to the inciting incident and from there to the first major plot point that begins the next Act of the novel--30 to 50 pages into the novel, roughly. There are always exceptions.

Download the Algonkian Study Guide for necessary additional references and a breakdown of hook scenes up to and beyond the first major plot point in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (a favorite for the application of classic dramatic technique in the novel).

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November 4, 2020

When considering your novel, whether taking place in a contemporary urban world
or on a distant magical planet in Andromeda, you must first sketch the best overall setting and sub-settings for your story.

Wasn't it F. Scott Fitzgerald who said something like, "Setting is 60% of what makes your novel stand out"? A great setting maximizes opportunities for interesting characters, circumstances, and complications, and therefore makes your writing life so much easier. Imagination is truly your best friend when it comes to writing competitive fiction, and nothing provides a stronger foundation than a great setting. One of the best selling contemporary novels in recent memory, THE HUNGER GAMES, is driven by the circumstances of the setting, and the characters are a product of that unique environment as well as the plot.

But even if you're not writing SFF, the choice of setting is just as important, perhaps even more so. If you must place your upmarket story in a sleepy little town in Maine winter, then choose a setting within that town that maximizes opportunities for verve and conflict, for example, a bed and breakfast stocked to the ceiling with odd characters who combine to create comical, suspenseful, dangerous or difficult complications or subplot reversals that the bewildered and sympathetic protagonist must endure and resolve while he or she is perhaps engaged in a bigger plot line: restarting an old love affair, reuniting with a family member, starting a new business, etc. And don't forget that non-gratuitous sex goes a long way, especially for American readers.

And not only must you choose the overall best setting, but you must consider sub-settings that come into play for particular scenes. For example, if your overall choice of setting is India, you have it made. You might choose a sub-setting for a scene that includes a particular village wherein a large snake is sleeping in a tree and thus creating an absurd spectacle in the form of an ongoing conflict between Muslims and Hindus over the spiritual meaning of the snake's behavior.

Keep in mind, a great setting maximizes the potential for great characters, unique circumstances, and story complications of one kind or another.

Of if your character is in Scotland on a cold and dull day, place him or her in a scene during a "blackening of the bride" ceremony wherein the future bride is trashed and sloshed with everything from tar to Scotch whiskey. Will your character have any internal issues with this? Yes? Whatever creates inner or interpersonal conflict is a bonus too, don't forget.

If nothing else, create a setting or sub-settings that assist with the development of conflict between characters. If your character is an office worker in an otherwise stereotypical setting, place them in a special surprise meeting with certain types of ambitious, reckless or sociopathic personalities who combine to ignite an unavoidable moral dilemma.

Set it up so that the tension crackles. Setting fixtures don't have to be inanimate!

By the Way, Does Your Setting Possess the Following Qualities?

Dynamic Evolution Over Time

One might quibble over the difference here between "set-up" and "setting"... Suffice to say, the author chooses a setting (a time and a place) that comports with a plot allowing for story enhancing social, political, cultural, or character-focused evolution in the fictional environment. Consider a novel filled with quarreling and toppling kingdoms (GAME OF THRONES), or a terrible secret uncovered that generates a killing machine to grind one man down (THE FIRM), or the coming downfall of a whole way of life for millions (THE UNVANQUISHED).

A New World of Wonder

Publishers like it when your novel takes readers into a world they're unfamiliar with. The freshness of new places, climes, cultures, people and things creates an irresistable draw for many. Witness the the popularity of EAT, PRAY, LOVE. Would it have been so engaging if the character had not traveled to exotic climes, but instead ate, pray, and loved in Podunk, Idaho? THE KITE RUNNER is another example. A whole new world, way of life, characters we could never have met otherwise.

The Potential for Energy

Keep in mind, a great setting maximizes the potential for great characters, unique circumstances, and story complications of one kind or another. Now, any idea what might best suit as an example for this category? How about THE POISONWOOD BIBLE?

An overzealous Baptist minister drags his wife and four daughters deep into the heart of the Congo on a mission to save the "unenlightened souls" of Africa. During this time, Belgium is about to give the country its independence, and a popular election will be held to select the new ruler. A purge of Westerners is expected once independence is won. All of this coupled with the presence of superstition and conflicting customs creates a dangerous and weirdly dynamic setting for the American mission family. Consider, would anyone have read this novel if the author, Barbara Kingsolver, had set the story in Canada? Perhaps, but the color and energy would be lost, certainly polar opposite of what Kingsolver's setting, in that time and place, allowed.

Now, please go back over your settings and scenes and rewrite accordingly. You can't have too much energy or tension on the page. Be as aggressive with your work as possible.

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Posted November 3, 2020 · November 3, 2020

Note, MARKET VALUE FIRST...

Listed below are a summation of "coverage" checkpoints utilized by various screenplay and novel ms readers in both Hollywood and New York. Not every publisher intern or assistant will necessarily employ all these categories (a mistake), however, they're a great checklist for you, the aspring author, to help ascertain whether or not you're meeting your goals for a successful commercial genre novel.

MARKET VALUE:

Originality, freshness - high concept
Clear target readership?
Hook Quality

STRUCTURE:

Act Zero backstory development
Exposition delivery
Effective setup with inciting incident
Plot line arc, and subplots (if appropriate)
Well designed reversals (major and minor)
Pinch points (at least two)
Catalytic situation driven
Conflict, tension, rising action,
Every scene relevant (i.e., to driving plot forward)
Effective, believable climax
Resolution/Denouement

CHARACTERS:

Antagonist Quality and Role
Consistent opposition
Protagonist goals
Sympathetic protagonist
Protagonist arc
Secondary character quality and roles

NARRATIVE DEVELOPMENT:

Scene length and structure
Effective transitions and cliffhangers
Quality prose narrative (genre appropriate)
Tension on every page
Dialogue mastery
Narrative composition (quality of set and engaging circumstances)
Cinematic imagery (both static and dynamic)
Proper point-of-view
Appropriate use of craft technique
Interior Monologue and rumination

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November 3, 2020

From Drab or Quiet to Can't Put It Down

What's one of the best ways to ensure a publishing contract? Master the art of writing fiction narrative, of course. But what does that mean, and are you sure you know the difference between relatively quiet fiction narrative and verve-packed narrative? Are you setting your standards high enough? Are you aware of the level of craft and attention to detail that will make you a great writer with not only a solid career, but a huge number of conference appearances wherein you can, with little effort, and in front of hundreds of people, act like a legend in your own mind?

Writers set standards for themselves, often ignorant of how high the standards need to be raised in order for them to be as competitive as possible in this current marketplace.

Rather than tell, let's show examples of how to take somewhat ordinary, perhaps even vaguely interesting narrative, and make it as competitive and energetic as possible by adding imagery, metaphor, emotion, more active verbs and better sentence structure.

And BTW, for this exercise we're going to channel Ray Bradbury and Eudora Welty at the same time in order to reach a final stage of pretty damn good. And don't let this freak you. They learned the hard way and took their lumps and rewrote a thousand times just like everyone else!

Beginning with a hypothetical chunk of speculative-fiction narrative. Could this be a first draft? Let's hope so. The imagination needs a boost and the passive voice is obvious. No emotions or tension either, therefore characters flat. The writer could also benefit by injecting a bit more meaningful detail.

THE ORIGINAL CHUNK

(Good enough for Tor.Com)

Senna and Father usually set the traps together, because it was she who had the knack of following animals to their habitat. Father was blind to it--he could never see the trails that marked the passage of his future meal. But to Senna, it was, and always had been, part of what her eyes could see. The newer the path, the easier she could see it.

As a toddler, Senna had quickly learned what the signs meant: little leavings, like drops of water. Besides the wetness and the small size of the drops, there was a sort of colorful glimmer to each one. She could tell at a glance the difference between a human and an animal, or between the different species.

MORE IMAGINATION AND COMPLEXITY ADDED

(a second enhancement draft, good enough for authors with a huge fan base)

Senna and Father usually set traps together, because it was Senna who possessed the knack of seeing paths the animals always used.

Father was blind to it. He could never view the thin shimmering trails in the air that marked the passage of living creatures through the world. But to Senna, it was, and always had been, part of what her eyes could see. The newer the path, the bluer the shimmer; older ones were green or waned to yellow; the truly ancient ones tended toward red.

As a toddler, Senna had quickly learned what the shimmering meant, because she could see everyone leaving trails behind them as they went. Besides the color, there was a sort of signature to each one, and over the years, Senna became adept at recognizing them. She could tell at a glance the difference between a human and an animal, or between the different species, and if she looked closely, she could sort out the tracks so clearly that he could follow the path of a single person or individual beast.

MORE ACTIVE VERBS AND REFINED SENTENCES

(third or fourth draft -- eliminating any last vestiges of passive voice)

Senna and her father set the traps together, for Senna possessed the unique ability to see the trails of the animals they hunted.

Father never saw the thin and shimmering trails in the air that marked the passage of living creatures through the world. His blindness to it seemed like a failure to him. But to Senna, her "trail eyes," as she called them, felt natural and effortless, always a part of her vision. The newer the path of the animal, the more blue the shimmer. Older ones glowed in hues of green or waned to yellow, and the truly ancient ones softened to a dark red.

As a toddler, Senna quickly learned what the shimmering meant, because she saw everyone leaving trails behind them as they walked or ran. Besides the color, a signature of sorts attached to each one, and over the years, Senna became adept at recognizing them. She knew at a glance the difference between a human and an animal, or between the various species, and if she looked closely, she could sort out the tracks so clearly that following the path of a single person or individual beast came easily.

MORE INFUSION OF IMAGINATION, NUANCE, AND EMOTION

(draft five or six -- towards a major award - National Book or Nebula?)

Senna and her father set the traps together, for Senna possessed the power to see the trails of the animals they hunted--often dangerous trails that led the two of them into wounding thickets or up the slick trunks of tamarand trees, following wild Cholu monkeys that set traps for predators like themselves.

Father never saw the thin shimmering trails in the air, scattered all around and leading every which way, looking as if interweaving spiders had drawn impossibly gigantic webs-- only parts of which might be seen at any one time. He could not mark the passage of living creatures through the world, and his blindness to it felt like a failure to him. At times he found himself jealous of Senna, irritated by her instincts that contradicted his own hunting wisdom. But to Senna, her "trail eyes," as she called them, felt natural, her ability effortless and always part of her vision. The newer the path of the animal, the more blue the shimmer. Older ones glowed in hues of green or waned to yellow, and the truly ancient ones softened to a dark red.

As a toddler, Senna quickly learned what the shimmering meant, because she saw everyone leaving trails behind them as they walked or ran. Besides the color, a unique scent attached to each one, and over the years, Senna became adept at recognizing them. Many a time her father watched in a befuddled daze as his daughter stooped to one knee and lightly sniffed the air, breathing in the molecules in one part per million infused with the gossamer thread of trail. To her, humans smelled a bit salty and raw, and most animals too, but with a scent of warm earth about them. She sorted the tracks so keenly with her eyes and nose that following the path of a single human or beast came easily.

Father could only fume, or act amazed, depending on the hour and his mood. Senna avoided him if the mood darkened, and she feared that any further development of her power might make him feel even more obsolete and irritable, for her power grew each day. She knew that soon, she would detect the odors with her eyes alone, the hue of the trail invoking the scent within her.

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THE METHOD

Do the analysis on the fiction narrative examples above and learn for yourself what it takes to make a huge difference in the quality of your writing. Note how the potential conflict with the father developed and caused complication and therefore tension, and note also the non-passive voice, and more importantly, the injections of imaginative imagery and circumstance, as well as more development of setting (e.g., the thickets, trees, monkeys, etc.).

Experiment with gradually evolving your own block of sample narrative through the four stages. Be aggressive with your work.

You'll be glad you did, and so will all your future readers.

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November 2, 2020

From the Desk of Agent Richard Curtis *****

(Best of Writer's Edge)

"The truth is that if all other things are equal, the author with better writing skills is the one who will rise out of the pack."

As the stakes continue to rise in the publishing business, writers are adopting a wide range of strategies to advance themselves out of the midlist and onto better-selling plateaus. I myself have recommended a number of such strategies. Recently, however, as I respond again and again to the question of what one can do to escape midlist oblivion, it's begun to dawn on me that many writers have been ignoring the most obvious answer: write better.

The truth is that if all other things are equal, the author with better writing skills is the one who will rise out of the pack. Instead of reviewing what's selling these days and who is buying it, I thought it might be worth reminding you about some of the most common and flagrant writing transgressions to be found in a typical harvest of fiction works that fetches up on my desk. I hasten to point out that the perpetrators are by no means mere amateurs, but professional writers as well, so let those who are without sin skip this article. I have to confess at the outset that as I was preparing my list, I realized that nobody has ever come up with a better formula for analyzing problem manuscripts than the boss I had in my apprentice days, Scott Meredith.

Meredith created the "Plot Skeleton," which goes something like this: A sympathetic hero or heroine confronts an obstacle or antagonist, creating a conflict that must be credibly overcome through the protagonist's efforts. These efforts result in a triumphant resolution that is satisfying to the reader. Unsympathetic protagonists, inconsequential conflicts, and uninspired resolutions are the characteristics of most of the fiction that agents thrust into stamped, self-addressed envelopes and return to senders. I have made notes, however, on some other fundamental failures that personally turn me off, and I've boiled these deadly "sins" down to seven.

I should add that the problems listed here are the kind that jump out at me so quickly that I can usually make a determination about a book containing them after only a few minutes of reading.

Instead of reviewing what's selling these days and who is buying it, I thought it might be worth reminding you about some of the most common and flagrant writing transgressions to be found in a typical harvest of fiction works that fetches up on my desk.

1. The Sin of Lousy Dialogue. Many writers try to carry their books on narrative alone, leaving me hungry for some conversation. Often, when at last I do encounter dialogue, it's of a trivial "Hello, how are you?" "Fine, thank you" variety. By fanning a manuscript like a deck of cards, a professional agent or editor can instantly perceive a paucity of quotation marks. Or, if you like your torture slow, you can read page by page waiting for somebody to talk to somebody else. Dialogue is an invaluable fictional device, yet many writers believe they can tell a story with a minimum of it.

A playwright once said that a good line of dialogue reveals something about the speaker, the person spoken to, and the person spoken about. Without dialogue, a work of fiction becomes a tract. A rapid scan of a manuscript often discloses the opposite problem, a book so replete with dialogue that it reads like a screenplay. In such books, the dialogue reveals little about anybody, because it's mostly talk, and you have to listen to endless conversations in the hope of seizing some nuggets of genuine story. It should be remembered that dialogue is not only a character-revealing device, it is also a form of action, but an excess of it will have the opposite effect.

Those guilty of this particular shortcoming should ask themselves in what way a dialogue scene moves the story forward. If too slowly, or not at all, you're doing something wrong. Writers sometimes forget what dialogue sounds like when actually spoken, and they should therefore try speaking it aloud or performing it with another person. That way, they might avoid one of my all-time pet peeves, which might be described as,

"What did you say your name was, dear?
"John, we've been married for fifty years and you haven't given me flowers for the last thirty."
"Gosh, Mary, I hadn't realized it."
"It's true, John."
"Well, Mary, I'll just have to do something about that.
"I hope you will, John." etc.

2. The Sin of Inaction. I hate this one because it takes me so long to diagnose. I may have to read as much as half of a manuscript before I realize that nothing, in fact, is happening. This is also the most heartbreaking failure in terms of wasted time and talent, particularly when you realize that it is the most avoidable. Most of the time, it's the result of poor outlining or no outlining at all. By synopsizing your work before you begin, you will readily detect soft spots in your story.

A common offshoot of this problem is often found in mystery novels. I call it the "travel fallacy." After a crime is committed, our protagonist picks up a clue and visits a witness or suspect, where he picks up another clue and visits another person or suspect, who leads him to another, and so forth. All that traveling from one place to another gives the illusion of action, but when you analyze it you realize that the only thing that has happened is the protagonist has gotten into a car or boarded a plane, boat, or bus and gone somewhere. But travel is not to be confused with action.

Not only do writers fail to describe the real world in sufficient detail, often they portray imaginary worlds in inadequate detail as well.

3. The Sin of Skimpy Detail. Many fiction writers believe that the best way to improve their craft is to study other fiction writers. Certainly one can benefit from reading the work of others. But if your spare time is limited you might benefit more by reading nonfiction. And not just history and biography but esoteric stuff like costumes of eighteenth-century France, Florentine church architecture, Samurai swords, and modern glassmaking. This will help to cure one of the surest signs of amateurism in fiction, the generalized description: "On the Czarina's desk lay a Fabergé egg." Don't you think a reader would rather read something like, "On the Czarina's inlaid walnut and ormolu escritoire a gorgeous gold Fabergé egg stood on a tripod of wrought gold. The egg was segmented with translucent green enamel trellising and inlaid with ceremonial scenes, miniature portraits of her children, and a particularly handsome portrait of Nicholas resplendent in blue uniform and gold epaulettes . . ." etc.

Though books about furniture-making or Russian enamels may not be as entertaining as the latest novel by your favorite writer, reading the former will ultimately pay bigger rewards in the rich texture of your writing.

4. The Sin of Unimaginativeness. Not only do writers fail to describe the real world in sufficient detail, often they portray imaginary worlds in inadequate detail as well. If that world is not thoroughly thought out, readers will know it and eventually lose attention. I find this to be particularly true of fantasy and science fiction, where it is all too easy to think readers will buy into a writer's world simply because it is alien. A planet warmed by binary suns may be a good premise, but if the writer does not describe in detail how these twin stars affect this world's ecology, culture or customs, the strangeness of the premise will soon wear off and the reader will be left in the equivalent of Akron, Ohio, in space. Worlds that never were possess as much detail as those that are or used to be, and the writer's task is to research those worlds as assiduously as a scholar might research ancient Thebes or Alexandria.

5. The Sin of Weak Characterization. A similar criticism applies to characterization: many writers simply do not "research" their characters in adequate depth. Making up character details as one goes along may work well for a rare few, but I get the impression that many writers have not "investigated" or "interviewed" their characters at length. The result is trite people. The way to investigate your characters is to create dossiers on them that can later be reviewed as though one were a reporter going through diaries and scrapbooks.

When and where was your character born and raised? Who were his parents, his grandparents? What events, friendships, circumstances affected his upbringing? What schools did he go to, jobs did he take, romances did he have? Whether or not you actually use all of the material you enter into your file or database, your intimacy with your characters will come through to your reader and they will feel you know more about the people in your book than you have revealed.

6. The Sin of Clichéd Story. The boredom factor is higher among agents and editors than it is among average readers, and a good thing it is, too. Writers don't always realize that stories that may seem unique to them are trite in the eyes of agents and editors. For every plot you write, we may see dozens of similar submissions. I freely confess to being easily bored, and I've stopped castigating myself for it, for I realize boredom is a critical symptom that a manuscript has gone wrong. I try to monitor the moment at which I started to lose my concentration and involvement, then to analyze precisely what it was that turned me off. Much of the time, it's a story I've heard before. I am weary of coups against the President of the United States (the Vice-President is behind it every time), former-CIA vs. former-KGB cat-and-mouse games, Arab-Israeli terrorist machinations, female journalists turned detective, and Colombian drug lords doing just about anything. Not that these stories cannot be rendered fresh: indeed, that is precisely the point. I demand, I beg, that they be rendered fresh. But if I start to nod off, I know that the author has failed to approach a familiar story from an unfamiliar angle, and that's it for me.

Writers don't always realize that stories that may seem unique to them are trite in the eyes of agents and editors. For every plot you write, we may see dozens of similar submissions.

7. The Sin of Triviality. In order for a book to feel big, it should deal with, or at least allude to, issues that go beyond the day-to-day concerns of its characters. Yet, many authors fail to give their story weight or dimension, and the result is often a book that feels trivial and inconsequential. Take a simple love story: boy meets girl and they fall in love. They have a jealous quarrel and break up, but they are eventually reconciled and end up getting married. Such a story is the stuff of a romance, and that's probably where it will end up. Now let's retell the story. It is December 7, 1941. Boy and girl have met and fallen in love, but on that fateful day the Japanese attack Pearl Harbor and the world is plunged into war. Boy enlists and is shipped overseas to fight. In war-torn Europe he falls in love with a beautiful French girl, while at home girl has fallen in love with an older man in the munitions factory where she works. Boy and girl break up, marry their lovers. Years go by, both marriages go bad. Boy and girl look each other up, discover they still carry the torch for each other, and are reunited.

The difference between these two love stories is vast, but what is the essential difference? It's that in the second one, history, destiny, and war play a part in the story as if they themselves were characters. The war has taken a silly love story out of the realm of triviality and invested it with a dimension that approaches the tragic. It is not difficult for writers to add such dimension to their work but not all of them do so, and if it is missing, I quickly lose attention.

A team that is struggling is often told by its coach to go back to basics. That's not bad advice for struggling writers, either.

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November 1, 2020

First and foremost, the aspiring author must conceive and plan the steps of central conflict, the major source of drama that drives through the core of the novel from beginning to end and which zeniths with an important climax, the "falling action" of denouement to follow. This is true for nearly every genre-- thrillers, suspense, science fiction, fantasy, historical, etc.--with the exception of the most literary of works.

Conflict, tension, complication, drama--all basically related and serving to prevent a reader's eyes from straying. Since the early days of literary time, serving up a big manuscript of quiet is a sure path to damnation. So what is the best way to prevent this? What is the first and most important structural step to avoid quiet and fixate the reader?

Consider "conflict" divided into three parts, all of which you should ideally have present in the novel. First, the primary conflict which drives through the core of the work from beginning to end and which zeniths with an important climax (falling action and denouement to follow). Next, secondary conflicts or complications which can take various social forms (anything from a vigorous love subplot to family issues to turmoil with fellow characters). Finally, those inner conflicts the major characters must endure and resolve--which may or may not be directly related to the main plot line (but at least an important one should be).

At the B.C. dawn of drama, conflict was known as the agon (the central contest - according to Aristotle). In order to hold the interest of the audience (or reader), a protagonist must strive to overcome an opposing force (the antagonist), thus creating a primary conflict--whatever form that may take. The outcome of the contest cannot be known in advance, and according to later critics such as Plutarch, the struggle should ideally be "ennobling" in some manner, even if death follows. Is that always true these days?

Regardless, first and foremost, the aspiring author must therefore conceive and plan the primary conflict, the major source of drama that drives through the core of the novel from beginning to end and which zeniths with an important climax, the "falling action" of denouement to follow. This is true for every genre--thrillers, suspense, science fiction, fantasy, historical, etc.--the most literary of works perhaps being an exception.

Consider the nature of conflict as presented in the novel hook lines below:

The Hand of Fatima (historical fiction)

A young Moor torn between Islam and Christianity, scorned and tormented by both, struggles to bridge the two faiths by seeking common ground in the very nature of God.

Summer's Sisters (women's fiction)

After sharing a magical summer with a friend, a young woman must confront her friend's betrayal of her with the man she loved.

The Bartimaeus Trilogy (young adult fantasy)

As an apprentice mage seeks revenge on an elder magician who humiliated him, he unleashes a powerful Djinni who joins the mage to confront a danger that threatens their entire world.

The above diverse examples define classic drama that creates conflict with real stakes. Note that it is fairly easy to ascertain the stakes in each case above: a young woman's love and friendship, the entire world, and harmony between opposed religions.

As a writer, keep in mind that if you cannot make the stakes of your novel clear via a pitch or query letter, the odds are you don't have any.

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October 31, 2020

Following a desultory lurch into relevancy on the part of the panel, one poor neophyte stood and asked the assembled if he should worry about his novel title before becoming published. Did it really matter? He'd received way too many opinions and desired a final tiebreaker. And the consensus answer?

Don't worry about your title... Huh?

Not long ago, I attended a panel at a mega-large writer conference. It consisted of authors who had recently been published (small presses, mainstream imprints, e-presses). There were about 150 people in the room. Following a desultory lurch into relevancy on the part of the panel, one poor neophyte stood and asked the assembled if he should worry about his novel title before becoming published. Did it really matter? He'd received way too many opinions and desired a final tiebreaker. And the consensus answer? No. You don't have to be concerned, and besides, "the publisher will most likely change it anyway."

I sat there dumbfounded. So basically, these people told this guy that pitching his novel or nonfiction with a crappy, foolish, or hackneyed title was perfectly fine. Not to worry! Call it whatever you want. How about THE WHINE OF ROMAN DOGS ON CELTIC WINDS? Yeah, that's a good one!... Must I spend any more space telling you why this was not only not perfectly fine advice, but perfectly stupid and self-defeating?

A bad title is like a warning siren going out ahead of your pitch, whether it be an oral pitch or query letter. It makes a horrible whining sound of warning, and it seems to be saying to those who read or listen:

This is a terrible writer, stop listening, stop reading, run screaming!

Regardless, what is your breakout title? How important is a great title before you even become published? Very important! Quite often, agents and editors will get a feel for a work and even sense the marketing potential just from a title. A title has the ability to attract and condition the reader's attention. It can be magical or thud like a bag of wet chalk, so choose carefully.

Go to Amazon.Com and research a good share of titles in your genre, come up with options, write them down and let them simmer for at least 24 hours. Consider character or place names, settings, or a "label" that describes a major character, like THE ENGLISH PATIENT or THE ACCIDENTAL TOURIST. Consider also images, objects, or metaphors in the novel that might help create a title, or perhaps a quotation from another source (poetry, the Bible, etc.) that thematically represents your story. Or how about a title that summarizes the whole story: THE MARTIAN CHRONICLES, HARRY POTTER AND THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS, THE WORLD ACCORDING TO GARP, etc.

Keep in mind that the difference between a mediocre title and a great title is the difference between THE DEAD GIRL'S SKELETON and THE LOVELY BONES, between TIME TO LOVE THAT CHOLERA and LOVE IN THE TIME OF CHOLERA between STRANGERS FROM WITHIN (Golding's original title) and LORD OF THE FLIES, between BEING LIGHT AND UNBEARABLE and THE UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS OF BEING.

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October 30, 2020

More to know than you might guess.

Secondary characters in a story, novel, or screenplay, both major and minor, must be utilized to serve the story in several important ways. They deliver crucial exposition at the right time ("She's not who you think she is."), create complications and interpersonal conflicts that spice or jolt the narrative ("You can't shut me up!"), play a role in ushering the protagonist down the plot path ("If you don't leave now, the game will be lost.") or make it easier for the author to reveal facets of the protagonist's background or personality ("Have you told her you served time in prison?"), become an actual obstacle to the protagonist ("You'll die if you go there."), or serve as an interpretational viewpoint for the reader that better defines or magnifies the jeopardy, setting, or circumstances ("The Master of Dartmoor awaits, and the hounds will be released!")--or some combination of all the above.

In general, secondary characters in a story exist to push the plot forward. Following on above, allow them to generate plot-related interpersonal conflict as often as possible. It's no fun if everyone gets along.

Regardless, back to the main point. One can introduce and dynamically portray secondary characters in such a manner as to make them more dimensional as the story progresses. Some authors actually recommend that as a writer you create a list of virtues and vices (or negatives) and apply them to each of your secondary characters in order to render them less than flat and predictable; however, that process can be an arbitrary one. In fact, traits or behaviors should manifest themselves as the circumstantial and psychological dynamics of the story evolve. Inventing a list of good and bad traits ahead of time and attempting to stick to them, in this context, might well prove counterproductive.

Instead, by considering the five approaches below, you will add more depth and complexity to your secondary characters and truly get to know them much better. And shouldn't you? Your sympathy and empathy for your own creations will pour onto the page (just don't drown the reader). However, you are well advised to have a VERY GOOD concept of your plot line(s), major dramatic complication(s), theme, and sets ahead of time. Why? Because all your characters will react, role play, and be defined within those contexts. It just makes sense. How can they exist in the vacuum of the blank page? They will gasp for the air of meaning and suffocate!

In general, secondary characters in a story exist to push the plot forward. Following on above, allow them to generate plot-related interpersonal conflict as often as possible. It's no fun if everyone gets along.

Going forward, brainstorm a copious amount of thoughts and notes. You might not translate all the information to the page, but it will be on hand just in case. And now, as follows, from the relatively straightforward to the more complex. What is the "Initial Attraction" of the reader to the character? How to create a character who gains the reader's interest or concern in a reasonably short amount of time? The techniques below work for novels, shorts, stage and screenplays as well.

Make them sympathetic by revealing they are, in one way or another, victims of unfairness, a tough life, recent bad luck, or problems of one kind or another (Scout Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird is adversely affected at school by her father's decisions, whereas Harry Potter is tortured by the Dursleys), e.g., bad accident, onset of illness, impoverishment, loss of a precious thing, etc. This IA factor may or may not be related to the "core wound" (see below). One can fall prey, so to speak, to of any number of things regardless of subconscious makeup born of a past tragedy or perceived failing.

Utilize the tried and true method of placing the character in a form of jeopardy, i.e, threat of physical and/or emotional harm that is reasonably serious or potentially devastating. The clock is ticking for them too. Will they be exposed? Humiliated? Defeated? Captured? Die a terrible death? It would not be difficult for this factor to interact with personal stakes (see below). A defined obsession could well lead to impending dire jeopardy as the clock ticks.

Create a character who possesses likeable traits or pursuits, e.g., possesses a quippy or quirky personality, bestows gifts of one kind or another, one of a kind expert (inventor, scientist, wizard, balloon race champion, etc.), gives to charities, protests against injustice, reads poetry to blind children, does good things for people under adverse circumstances. Nothing gratuitous, however. Allow this trait to play into the story. Perhaps it even creates trouble or heartache for the character? Why should results always be positive?

But wait. Does a character have to be "likeable" to stir ongoing interest in the reader? Of course not. And what is the perfect example of this? None other than GOLLUM, that lovably loathsome creature from Lord of the Rings, also known as Sméagol. Talk about creating conflict, being a victim of a powerful force, issuing threats. The suspense never lets up as long as he's on the page.

Use of Personal Stakes and Backstory

What uniquely matters to any particular character? Why? What or who do they care about? Do they have a tangential or full blow subplot situation that engages or distracts them, e.g., does old Mr. Sarbanes, the last living investigative reporter in Scottsdale, have a grandchild he's putting through college? Is he struggling to keep his job?

In the novel, Piper Robbin and the American Oz Maker, the secondary character, Alcaeus, a resurrected Greek philosopher, is cursed by the rapid onset of a plague, but is determined at all costs to remain alive just long enough to witness the end of the world. It is important to him above all things. But why?

The best way to develop these "situational stakes" for a secondary character in the story is to first consider the character's backstory. Write down a history for the character--background, family relationships, social class, schooling, relevant watershed events. Allow this to play into their current personal stakes.

The Core Wound and the Dynamic of Desire

Explore your character deeply. Consider conscious motivation stimulated by both memory and subconscious pain. The "core wound" drives the character in certain unique ways, perhaps leads them on a journey to prove themselves. It's resolution, if it ever comes, will make them happier, healthier, or more in tune with the world around them. Does Citizen Kane come to mind? Of course, he failed to achieve resolution, and therein resided the ultimate tragedy.

However, you are well advised to have a VERY GOOD concept of your plot line(s), major dramatic complication(s), theme, and sets ahead of time. Why? Because all your characters will react, role play, and be defined within those contexts.

Fundamental and popular core wounds include loss of a parent, a broken heart, an ultimate mistake (the character could spend a lifetime trying to make amends), a big secret (the revelation of which could ruin or harm the character), or perhaps a perceived terrible failure in the character's past (a primary desire forever denied by a moment's hesitation or a small mistake).

From Psychology Today:

"Core wounds tend to be things like a sense of not being enough, of being unlovable to a parent, of feeling stupid, dirty, unwanted, or ugly. No matter what your core wound may be, you can guarantee that your wound influences who you are and how you behave."

and

"Every core wound is based on a basic knowledge that we are unacceptable as we are, so we have to adjust and change to be perceived as good. It influences our self-esteem and the very fabric of our thoughts."

And one core wound is usually enough. As famous screenplay writer Peter Russell points out:

"Tony Soprano had one big wound — my mommy hates me. But a bunch of desires came out of that — I love prostitutes, I love working at a strip club, I love hurting people, I love to be violent, I love to run things, I love being a boss, I love being a dad."

For Robert Olen Butler, Pulitzer winner, novelist, screenplay writer, and distinguished professor at FSU, the central character issue involves the "dynamic of desire." As he states in an interview online:

I use the word "yearning" with my students because it suggests the deepest level of desire, which is where fiction gets to. So fiction is the art form of human yearning. You can understand it because the one craft element that we most associate with narratives is plot. Plot is simply yearning challenged and thwarted.

So what is this telling us? Might this "yearning" be related to the core wound? Could it be? You're the author. You decide.

The Art of Contrast or Contradiction

The character develops a certain pattern of behavior, lures us in, then suddenly behaves in a manner that appears inconsistent or variant, surprising, though not in a way that is ultimately confusing. It cannot just be arbitrary. There must be an underlying reason. The simplest way to create a complex character is to contradict who a character appears to be. A secondary method is to have the character desire two things in conflict--the inner clash thereby created, reminding one of the classic inner devil vs. angel fighting for dominion of the soul.

According to author DAVID CORBETT:

"A contradiction is something about a person that piques our interest because it betrays what we expect, given what else we know or have observed."

And further as general categories:

Contradictions Based on Physical, Ironic, or Comic Juxtaposition

Contradictions Based on Our Need to Serve Multiple Social Roles

Contradictions Based on Competing Morals or Goals.

Contradictions That Result from a Secret or Deceit

Contradictions Based on Conscious Versus Unconscious Traits

Dispositional Contradictions.

These contrasts and inner conflicts engage interest because the reader is curious as to which side will manifest itself next. Also, they create suspense since we'd like an explanation of the contrast or contradiction, and of course, they portray character complexity and depth.

The Sketch Bullets

Once you've considered the above, here are additional important brainstormers for fully fleshed major secondary characters (minor secondary most likely won't require this much detail).

PHOTOS AND PHYSICAL: You select from Internet photos of those you believe exemplify the physical form/attitude of the characters. Next, jot down the physical facets a bullet at a time, one page for pics and bullets.

ORIENTATION: Practical matters of existence. You orient this secondary character in time and space, i.e., you give them a job, a current reason for being, a place they inhabit, people they know, activities they participate in. Basics of what, where, when, how, why.

LIFE GOAL: What does this person wants most in life: peace? power? freedom? dignity? love? Is this ostensible goal related in any way to the core wound? Should it be?

PSYCHE PROFILE: You work up a psychological profile: strongest desire(s)/dislike(s), intelligence level, emotional profile (dark or light as a whole, easy or slow to anger), attitudinal qualities (e.g., biases towards objects/people in the environment that create cognitive issues), belief system (atheist, Hindu, Republican). Again, this will be related in one way or another to their core wound, and to their history, backstory elements, but not always. A character could be born a bastard regardless of nurture factors.

SOCIAL REACTION PROFILE: How do they react to others in social situations? You sketch a short anecdote that reveals this person by demonstrating how she or he behaves/reacts to a defined stimulus in the context of a social situation. Something has happened, something is said that creates tension, desire, confusion, ergo the anecdote portrays this person at their best or worst. HINT: CONFLICT!

THE CHARACTER ARC: Given your knowledge of the major complication and story, you flow-sketch the emotional and cognitive evolution of the character from beginning to end. If she or he starts off as a ignorant louse, where to go from there? Will they epiphanize, change, require repeated motivation? All major characters evolve as the story progresses. It‘s mandatory, whether in fiction or film. Consider historical factors, core wound factors, immediate circumstances, role of the character in the story.

You have work ahead if you hope to accomplish the act of great secondary characters. But approach the task with passion and appropriate doses of ambition. Strive to be unique within the bounds of convention. Give freedom to your imagination and be aggressive with its application.

We will all love you for it!

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October 30, 2020

Let's get to the point.

Yes, we know CATCHER IN THE RYE and HUCKLEBERRY FINN and THE GREAT GATSBY could never have been famous novels without the engaging first person voice of their protagonists. And yes, first person is fashionable now in select genres (only because certain successful novels in the near past were hacked out in first person, e.g., GONE GIRL and THE HUNGER GAMES, thus leading New York publishing to illogical conclusions and a very poor memory for history--think HARRY POTTER or THE BOOK THIEF for starters); however, multiple third person is the best and most cinematic way to relate a dynamic work of fiction, as will be demonstrated. Unless you know you cannot earn the brass ring without remaining a prisoner of first person voice, becoming skilled with third person variations is strongly advised.

The "Filter of Traits" - Personalities, Viewpoints, and Tone

Before getting around to the demonstration of brilliantly effective third person in action, let's examine just one of the many benefits (see list below) to utilizing the viewpoint in question.

Consider, the nature of any given 3POV narrative is dependent to a large extent on the personality of the 3POV character the author has chosen to filter and interpret the fictional environment. Therefore, by purposely placing a certain character with a specific "filter of traits" in the presence of a phenomenon that must be described or experienced (event, object, social situation, etc.) you thereby render it via the subjective lens of that character’s mindset, biases, emotion, and perspectives.

A superstitious individual might imagine, for example, a dark hand of God blotting the sun in anger and see falling rain as tears; whereas the non-superstitious observer might focus instead on the sadness of a small child, her bright clothing soaked, or the frantic motions of the staff attempting to clear food off the table before it becomes spoiled by rainwater. The superstitious character might suffer more cognitive dysfunction, interpret smiles as wolfish or manipulative or death-like, the more intelligent character marveling at light and youthful appearance of the person smiling, the crinkles around the eyes, the cause of the light mood.

The examples are endless, but as you see, varying characters employed as 3POV cameras or interpreters will yield different results when placed in the same circumstance.

http://algonkianconferences.com/att.jpg Note also the "filter of traits" can quite effectively set a tone for the scene, or for the work as a whole, depending on the presence of the character in the novel. Certainly, the type of superstitious and/or paranoid personality noted above could easily create an ongoing dark and frightening tone in the narrative.

Narrative Examples of the Four Levels

For purposes of this study, we define four levels of third person point of view (3POV) as follows:

Author-POV
3POV Distant
3POV Close
3POV First-Close

The Author-POV or APOV, refers to the author, the detached or "omniscient narrator" who steps in now and then to set the scene or make artful commentary at the right time (just *please* don't address the reader directly because that is so irritating and breaks the reader's immersion into the fictional dream).

3POV Distant or 3POV-D occurs at such time the narrative focuses on specific characters and we watch their actions like a live camera actively filming them.

3POV Close or 3POV-C takes us into the character's head and camera viewpoint shifts to the character, i.e., we see or experience, for the most part, only what the character is viewing or experiencing.

3POV First-Close or 3POV-FC dives deeper into the character's head and effectively mimics first person POV, but naturally without the usual limits of first person POV because the author can cut from the 3POV-FC and pull all the way back to APOV.

Let's look at three samples of what we're talking about from a novel published by Del Sol Press entitled WORLD MAKER - THE ASCENSION OF ROMANOVA.

APOV to 3POV-D to APOV

The following never quite makes it into 3POV-C, but verges on it. Note how the APOV returns at the conclusion:

(APOV) WHEN ONLY A CHILD OF NINE, ONE OF EARTH'S most powerful sorcerers, Zolo Bold, did something that haunted him the rest of his life. He sniffed a bee up his nose.
But no ordinary bee.
(3POV-D) After a night of howling steppe winds and falling stars spilled from The Big Dipper, he saw a white flower, like one of those stars, stemming out the next morning from a vendor’s cart in Samarkand. While his mother strained to subdue him, Zolo nonetheless hopped and hummed with delight. Much to his surprise, he could smell the mind-softening scent of the blossom even from many feet away, competing bravely with the loud odors of the city market. In his mind, it seemed so radiant and mysterious that it overshadowed all the other flowers, even the enormous Silk Road orchids rumored by Christian monks to be death robbers, and the many and exotic blooms whose seeds came from Ulaanbaatar in faraway Mongolia.
When the flower merchant, a man with an ox-sized stomach, no nose, and the thinnest head Zolo had ever seen, turned to heckle a customer, Zolo Bold--whose name means Crazy Fox--saw his chance. He gently slipped from his mother’s hand and took a few steps, leaning forward to smell the rose. He could not help himself, for never before had he stood in the presence of such a sky born flower. But just as his nose brushed the soft white petals and the scent filled his head, something else did too: a sharp and crawly thing.
It followed the air up his right nostril, and once lodged, began to squirm.
Zolo shrieked and jumped into the air!
His entire nose buzzed and the sound of it curled into his throat and out of his mouth. A nearby child, smaller than him and holding his mother’s hand, heard the bee voice and pointed, yelling “It’s bee boy! Bee boy!”
(APOV) In the years to come, Zolo Bold, the great enemy of the dark feared from Istanbul to Cathay, would remember that boy’s terrified face and always attach to it all mention of the word "bee" ...

APOV to 3POV-FC to 3POV-C

Next step. Note how the lines between levels can become blurred, but once the reader accepts the reality of the 3POV narrative style, it seamlessly blends:

(APOV) After what seemed like hours, the two of them drew near their tent. (3POV-D) Zolo broke away from his mother and ran towards it as fast as he could. Once inside, he dove onto his sleeping place, made of quilted blankets, and thrust his arm beneath them. Groping around, he soon found the object he searched for: a tiny stone statue of an ancient warrior known to him only as Alexander.
He gripped the figure tightly and whispered his own quick prayer for protection. Many years before, a wandering Kazakh traveler, late of Istanbul, had given it to him as a gift and told him that Alexander once possessed the good fortune and power to rule many nations at once, that he was beloved of all gods; (3POV-C) and little Zolo imagined a being of such power would make a formidable ally. He mumbled prayers to Alexander only on special occasions, not wishing to upset Allah, or his parents.
(3POV-D) But at the moment, his mother paid no attention. She stared out the tent into the desert, her body unmoving, as if something she saw paralyzed her.
(3POV-C) to (3POV-FC) While his mother stood in the corner of his eye, facing away from him, Zolo held Alexander close and whispered a prayer in his head:

God Alexander,
Help my mother find my father.
I implore you.
Make my family whole again
And I will make sacrifice
To you for all my days.

(3POV-C) He held Alexander for a few more moments, staring at his soft profile and face and wondering how such a soft-looking god could rule so many nations. But he believed it to be true nonetheless. The wanderer from Istanbul had appeared like a man of wisdom and iron, and in his eyes, Zolo saw the truth.

[ NOTE: if the narrative had described the prayer rather than having us see the thoughts in Zolo's head, we would have stayed in (3POV-C) ]

3POV-D to 3POV-FC

Note the transition from 3POV-C to 3POV-FC. The narrative narrows down to the actual thoughts of the 3POV character, also using italicized lines which directly mimic first person interior monologue:

(3POV-D)The old woman stared at Senna, her eyes fixing on her, never straying until she walked to within a few feet of the table. Her two escorts, still masked, let go of her and returned to the performance. The old woman's eyes dropped to the floor and Senna looked her over. (3POV-C) There was nothing special about her. Her face resembled a water-starved desert of lines and cracks, as one would expect. But suddenly, Senna heard someone speak to her: Sing the body young.
(3POV-FC)A voice? From the old woman? ... No.
The voice belonged to a man, though it sounded a bit strangled ... Sing the body young. Again! Was it in her head? She looked around. Nothing. Only Hermine and Théodo acting witless as usual, and not even seeing this old woman.
O poder é a vida ea morte, Princess Senna.
She knew that language. Galician, yes. A rare language of Spain, heavily influenced by Roman empire. It translated to "The power is life and death."
Her fingers pricked for a moment and she realized the source of the voice: Mirza Yesun Temur. It must be him!
Meu segredo está oculto.
My secret is hidden. She strained her eyes for him. Zolo, Willie, or whoever was right. Tricks, illusions. And what did the words mean? And why? ... Sing the body young. The words intruding into her mind forced her to look at the old woman again. Now her eyes lifted and bored into Senna, and Senna's face began to burn and felt as if dozens of small fingers walked lightly over it. What in Beelzebub's name? The woman's eyes implored Senna to act, as if a terrible thing were about to happen. But what?

Summary of Arguments for 3POV

3POV can be just as immediate and intimate as first person (see 3POV-FC example above), but without the usual constraints of being always boxed into what the first person narrator sees/experiences, sans their personality as a continuous filter. 3POV allows for multiple filters and tones, as well as first person intimacy with more than one character (multiple first person can achieve the same thing, but with more difficulty).
If you as the author need to deliver exposition or other critical information you will have more hoops to jump through if you are confined to the viewpoint of a first person narrator who may or may not logically be capable of delivering said information. While Jodi the first person narrator is talking to Mary, Bobby has just lit the fuse a mile away. How can Jodi tell us this?
Related to above, you can effectively describe events via the APOV and other 3POV characters even though your protagonist isn't present.
Allows a universal or authorial voice to more easily and quickly, under a wide variety of circumstances, to define reality for the reader. The reader suspends disbelief and accepts what the author narrator is telling them, whereas first person statements and observation run the risk, in certain situations, of sounding more like opinion.
Advantages of dramatic irony. The reader learns about upcoming circumstances that will adversely affect the protagonist before the protagonist realizes this fact. This creates suspense and heightens reader concern.
Allows for establishment of "epic perspective" (see the opening above with little Zolo).
Cinematic advantages. For example, in THE ALCHEMYST by Jonathan Stroud, we witness a scene of violence taking place in a book store. We see it through one characters viewpoint, in the store, as it plays out, then we switch to a second character outside the store, witnessing the effects of the violence from outside. Like a film, the author is able to cut back and forth and give far more dynamism to the depiction of the scene.
Another cinematic advantage is that the APOV can start the action sometimes more readily than the first person who may get mired in TELL TELL rather than SHOW SHOW.
Ability to jump into the heads of other characters enables author to quickly and efficiently switch settings and circumstances and thus add more variety and energy, as well bring a different tone and interpretation to the work as needed, e.g., consider the difference between the POV of a child and an elder experiencing the same circumstance.
It's easier to physically describe the 3POV view-point character(s) - the author can simply just say straight out how they appear, or even use the camera angle of another 3POV character to render the image.

Now that you've seen the viewpoint in action. Now that you've read the advantages, you are advised to experiment with your own examples before moving on to the timeless white page of the novel in progress.

______

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October 30, 2020

So what's your edge?

I just finished reading two very mediocre books, both very atmospheric, but without much story because the story was buried somewhere in that atmosphere (and, in one case, lyricism, as one book was written by a poet and she was so in love with her writing she didn't realize there wasn't actually a story). I'm not going to tell you what either book is because one is a Pulitzer Prize winning 'classic' and I don't feel like debating its merits. The other was represented by an agent I'm going to send my current novel to, so a little self-preservation is called for!

While dragging myself to the final chapters of these books, I realized that what's missing is fear. In writing, a healthy dose of MyGodICan'tBelieveI'mWritingThis! is necessary. I didn't feel either writer standing too close to the edge (note the title of this blog...). It's your job to challenge yourself. Sit in the dark corners tied to a chair so you can't leave and meet what comes for you. Climb into the snake pit and pull the cover over your head. I guarantee you, not only will it scare the crap out of you, it will thrill you no end.

So what freaks you to write about?

For me it used to be sex. I was raised Catholic and--well, enough said, don't you think? I thought it was a victory just to have sex without being married, let alone write about it in all its nasty glory. Then a professor gave us that assignment in class one day: write what scares you. So I did. I had just started writing a novel for my honors class and my professor's challenge took the work to a whole other level. I realized I couldn't just write a sex scene. It had to go deeper than that. (I think there's a joke there somewhere...)

Sit in the dark corners tied to a chair so you can't leave and meet what comes for you. Climb into the snake pit and pull the cover over your head.

The novel was about a girl using her sexual escapades to kill off her good girl image.

The culminating scene took place in a strip club where the female main character had to enter a live peep show booth to strip and do whatever the man she was with told her to do. I stalled as long as I could with research (not that kind!) and, with the deadline looming, got to work. Let me set the scene so you know how difficult this was for me. At the time I lived with my parents to save money and because I worked full time as well as went to school full time in the evenings and had a dog I needed fed and walked in my absence.

So picture sitting in your childhood bedroom with the dolls your mother insists must not be hidden in the closet, pictures of you as a kid (one in your communion dress and veil), children running around playing and screaming right outside your window, and your mother knocking on your door about once an hour to ask you some silly question because she doesn't get the whole writing thing and must absolutely know right this minute if that's your laundry in the dryer and what do you want for dinner? And you're supposed to write what?

I needed to park in a dark alley off of The Block in East Baltimore with a bottle of gin, but I'm not that brave and I'm not a drinker. So it had to be done in my bedroom in my parents' house. It took me 26 hours to write the 10 page scene. Sixteen hours on Saturday, another ten hours on Sunday. In a way, I actually think where I wrote it helped. The tension of location versus content, my Catholic past versus my writing future. I was conscious of that tension the entire time and kept pushing and pushing against it, making sure I felt very uncomfortable the whole time.

That's key: discomfort. Add disgust, sweaty palms, and some nausea and you've got the magic formula.

Here's how you can make it happen for you: Tell yourself it has to be complete by a certain time and you're not allowed to do anything but write until the piece is finished (meals and bathroom breaks excepted). Tell yourself no one will read it, close your eyes and write. Sometimes it's easier if you can't see the words. Pretend you are another writer, for whom this subject is no big deal. She/he wants to shock and surprise. Let her/him at it. No deleting anything. Get all the way through first. Then leave it alone for at least three days, preferably a week. If you want to delete something at that time, delete only what doesn't serve/move the story or the characters, that's all.

Don't delete something because you're worried what other people will think of you. Do something nice for yourself once it's over. You might be high on the accomplishment, you might be exhausted, but find a way to appreciate your effort. A movie, a trashy book to read that doesn't tax your brain, a new pair of shoes, a phone call to a friend to relate your harrowing experience and be told you're awesome.

After that weekend, going back to write other sexually explicit scenes leading up to the peep show was a piece of cake. I enjoyed it. And now I can say 'been there, done that' about writing sex. Sure, there are different types of sex, different degrees, and I could try writing them all, but that was the edge for me, and it was enough. You'll be uncomfortable, but also have a great time with it because once you get past doing it the first time and realize you didn't spontaneously combust, you can appreciate the line you crossed, you'll feel more confident in your abilities, and you can look forward to shaking up your readers.

So what's your edge?

What scares you to write? Is it sex? Religious fervor/obsession/possession? The truth about your parents' marriage? The truth about your marriage? Death? Murder? Abuse? War? It doesn't have to be something big, humans are cruel and horrible in many small ways, but go for something big first. Go for broke. Get twisted. If you're working on something right now, look for the dark side and run straight for it. What you write may come out awkward, clichÃ©, maybe too soft. The important thing is to keep pushing into the ugly. Don't let anything hold you back. You will get somewhere you never expected and, whether you use what you wrote or not, you'll be a better writer for it. I dare you.

_________________

Christine Stewart is a writer/editor in Baltimore and program director for literary arts with her state arts council. For editing services email therealwriter@gmail.com, and join her Facebook page: www.facebook.com/ChrisStewartTheRealWriter.

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