Category Archives: Character

Revise Unto Death or Quit?

The last post of 2012. Oh, the pressure!

This makes me think of endings… and beginnings. These ideas fortuitously play into the topic at hand – when should a writer abandon a scene/plot/character/work that just isn’t working rather than rewriting for the fiftieth time?

My story, A Guardian’s Destiny, was a work in process for sixteen months, give or take.  I wrote, rewrote, edited, revised, rewrote and on and on for what was longer than was good for me or it. I was halfway through rewrites that added a major character when I couldn’t take it any more.  I knew it needed fixed, but  I couldn’t figure out what the fix might be.  Frustration didn’t begin to cover how I felt.  When I stepped back and looked at it with some small measure of objectivity, I could see it had “Edit Face.”  Not pretty. So, I put it in a virtual drawer and began something else.

When do you make that call?  End one thing, begin another?

That is a personal decision, but here are some things to consider.

  • Time – How long have you worked on your scene/plot/character/work?  Think about Return on Investment or Lost Opportunity Costs.  Yes, we want our writing to be its best, but it will never be perfect and we need to recognize the tipping point where we have gone beyond productive effort.  If you could have written a multitude of other scenes/plots/characters/works in the time you’ve spent on this particular one, then maybe it’s time to let it go and move on.
  • Sanity – Is it making you crazy?  My story was.  That’s not constructive and it’s stressful.
  • Distance – Sometimes, it isn’t that you need to completely abandon your scene/plot/character/work, it’s that you need some distance from it.  Your muse may need time to gel. Time to work out exactly what the problem is and how to fix it.  It may be weeks, months, years or never.  You just never know.
  • Perspective – It’s just a story.  We’re not curing cancer. Don’t marry your scene/plot/character/work.  You need to have some perspective.  Sometimes, things just aren’t working and you need to stop.  If it helps, save all the drafts or put any deleted text into a different document.  Then it isn’t really gone, just not where it isn’t working.

A Guardian’s Destiny has been tucked away for six to ten months.  My critique partner asked to read it anyway despite my protestations that it seemed hopeless.  After all this time and with her help, I think it may be time to take it back out and finish it. With a second set of eyes and ideas, it may yet be salvageable, but I know now that if it isn’t complete in a reasonable amount of time (not months on end), then back in the drawer it goes.

Here are some sayings that I keep in mind to help me.

A certain amount of opposition is a great help to man.  Kites rise against, not with, the wind……  John Neal

It’s only a book.  If nothing is happening – hit delete and start over. …..  I don’t remember where I heard this, sorry.

When your moment of truth comes, remind yourself: They told me it would be hard. This is what hard feels like. I can do this. …..  Rachelle Gardner, Literary Agent

What do y’all think?  I’d love more great quotes and/or tales of death, birth and maybe rebirth of your scene/plot/character/work.

 

 

 

Stop Talking and Tell Me Something: Using the Dialogue Scene

Let’s face it. Dialogue is the bane of many a writer learning the craft. We overuse it. We unnecessarily pretty it up. Frankly, we overthink it.

The talking part isn’t really all that difficult. We all know how to talk. The only thing you really need to do if you’re having trouble writing realistic conversation is to listen to real life. A nice trick is to record a conversation between real people and play it back, writing it down word for word. Scenes from movies work well for this, too.

You’ll learn pretty quick that with spoken dialogue, less is more.

The truth is that most of the dialogue shouldn’t be spoken. The majority of communication between human beings happens through body language, part of that elusive phenomenon we like to call subtext. Even when we’re not talking, we’re still having a dialogue. In fact, people tend to believe a speaker’s body language over what they’re saying. This, I think, is why it’s so difficult to write a story only using dialogue. Real people need context to fully understand the meaning of what’s being said.

Think about it. You’re main character’s girlfriend is telling her about a conflict at work. While your main character is responding to the girlfriend as if she’s listening to every word in a tone that says she cares, she’s also watching a little boy play with a toy two tables down. Does your main character really care about what her girlfriend is saying? Not really, or she would give her complete attention to the conversation.

What about the protagonist who can’t keep his eyes off the gorgeous woman in red across the room, even though he tells his date he’s not interested in her? Which do you believe-the glances or the words?

Once you understand how this works, it’s a great tool to help you stay engaged in the writing and keep the words flowing. Let’s face it, it’s so much more interesting to write a scene where people are being active, and character’s talking to each other is the most engaging activity in most novels. It’s a fantastic source of conflict, especially when someone’s words don’t match their body language.

Take the first example above. Our main character isn’t really paying attention to her girlfriend, and the girlfriend knows it. She gets irritated and calls our main character on it. Maybe there’s someone at the table next to theirs who is paying a little too much attention even though he’s not saying a word. In the second example, the protagonist’s date isn’t stupid. She knows her man has his eye on the woman in red. And maybe that gorgeous stranger has noticed it, too.

You can do all kinds of things to kick-start a flagging plot by introducing a dialogue scene. It’s where the characters figure things out and mess things up. It’s where they proclaim love and outright lie. It’s where characters show themselves even when their words say otherwise.

Your story, after all, isn’t about car chases or sword fights. It isn’t about the nefarious scheme your villain has hatched. Your story is about the people dealing with all that, and people don’t live in a vacuum or always agree with each other. They don’t always act rationally or know what they’re doing, and while it’s possible to show this in narrative, that can get boring for you and the reader. Get one or more other characters in the room to show it through dialogue and bring the situation out of the character’s head and into the real world. You’ll be amazed what can happen.

Getting Stuck in the Big Swampy Middle

It was breathtaking and I couldn’t stop reading it!

That’s the experience every reader wants and those are the words every writer wishes to hear. The adage that if your character is sleeping, so is your reader is all too true. So if your novel is stuck in the big swampy middle, so will your reader be and he may not have the fortitude to move on. So, how does one gracefully dance across the swamp without getting stuck? There are many books written on the topic but here are three things I’ve learned:

 

1) you have permission to make things difficult for your protagonist.

When a fellow writer made me aware that it was my duty to make things difficult for my protagonist – that I was supposed to be mean – writing got a whole lot easier and the middle became so much more fun! Disasters, unexpected problems, the fatal character flaw, the goal he so desperately wants is within reach yet is maddeningly elusive, twists and turns, the mentor dies, red herrings  … the list of trouble goes on.

Through the middle, there will be many mini-problems which escalate into bigger ones and culminate into the BIG middle disaster. The BIG middle disaster is the lynch pin of a problem that propels the protagonist into the third act where he rises to the challenge in the smashing climax. This disaster can happen anywhere from the mid-point to the end of the middle.

Most importantly, the protagonist complicates the situation, makes it more complex, worsens it and raises the stakes. How can your protagonist worsen the situation? By having a fatal flaw that he must overcome in order to achieve his goal such as shyness, insecurity, impulsiveness, greed, play-by-the-rules, or risk taker. Sometimes the character may experience success but that can have unintended consequences such as: the antagonist’s reaction; there’s a worse problem he wasn’t aware of; or a secondary character has a bad reaction to the achievement.

2) plan your BIG middle disaster and work toward it

The plan doesn’t have to be overly detailed. Even if you’re a pantster, it helps to know where the BIG middle disaster will occur and what it will be. This will keep you from being derailed, from writing scenes that don’t support the story goals and the final conflict. There’s still lots of room for pantster creativity in getting to the BIG middle disaster and moving beyond to the climax.

As you’re working toward the BIG middle disaster, as you’re ramping up the tension by increasing emotional, physical and psychological conflict, as your characters reactions and actions are met with resounding consequences and reactions, keep in mind the story telling technique you’re using. For example, is this primarily an action oriented, plot driven story? Are you using a mini-arc, a smaller story within a larger one which although connected, serves to reveal information about the characters? Are you following a sub-plot? Is there a new character to add an unexpected dimension to the tale? It’s too easy to get derailed and fall into the swamp if you’re not clear about which technique you’re using.

And it can never be overstated: increase conflict to increase tension to keep readers wanting to know what’ll happen next. For every event, there is a reaction with resounding consequences and more reactions and actions. This will make writing the story exciting for you and a white-knuckle read.

3) focus on the prize

You’ve got your beginning with the story problem clear in your mind. Your protagonist has faced an opening disaster that commits him to solving the problem. You know the prize, the novel’s ending. Now, you must focus on that prize with your protagonist to get him to the ending. At this point, it doesn’t matter if he succeeds and this is a happy ending, or if he fails and this is an unhappy ending or if this is a bittersweet ending with mixed results. What matters is keeping an eye on the goal, working toward the climax by making sure all events -setbacks, triumphs, actions and reactions – somehow contribute to the end result.

Subplots, side trips that reveal character only count if that incident or revelation shows us something significant about the character in relation to the story goal. Saving a cat may be important if it shows a compassionate, compulsive need to act which gets him into trouble later on. For example, it’s a laudable trait to get the cat out of the tree because grandma’s upset and her blood pressure is rising. But, when escaping from the bad guys, he stops running across rooftops because he sees a half starved cat that’s too scared to jump and the six year old kid is on the ground crying. You can imagine how his compassion may get him into more trouble. The rule is that everything you reveal or use must contribute to your character working toward the prize.

The middle is really the fun part of writing the novel. It’s where you can explore your character, exploit his weaknesses and strengths, and keep ramping up the excitement. There are times when I stop writing and ask my character: What do you see? or Oh, oh, what are you going to do now? Your character will answer those questions for you and stay true to the story goal if you’ve done your homework in your character profile, and if you keep your focus on the prize.

 

For me, the middle is an incredible adventure where the protagonist and I journey through murder, mayhem and have the time of our lives!

What works for you?

Book Review: Story Engineering by Larry Brooks

It seems every author has at least one book on writing they feel every other writer needs to read. For me, this one rises head and shoulders above all the others. Larry Brooks‘ often blunt and always brilliant exploration of what he calls the physics of storytelling is game changing.

I actually read two of Larry’s e-books that were wrapped up into his final, polished product known as Story Engineering. They were Story Structure – Demystified, and The Three Dimensions of Character. They can be downloaded separately as PDFs from Larry’s site for only $3 each, but just buy the full Story Engineering book. You won’t regret it.

What makes Story Engineering so brilliant? It’s clear, it’s easily understandable, and it works.

I’ve read several other great books on writing, but never did any of them strike me with such power as this one. The journey toward becoming a professional writer is much like climbing a high mountain. We hit peaks in our journey that only reveal another peak rising behind it, a peak we couldn’t see before. We can get stuck on those smaller peaks, not sure how to proceed or to climb higher.

That was where I found myself when I discovered Larry Brooks’ physics of story telling. I had already completed two manuscripts, but I was stuck. I knew there was a problem with my story, even though it was so much better than anything I’d ever written before. Unfortunately, I couldn’t identify the issue, so I couldn’t fix it.

Then I learned about the underlying structure that needs to exist in any successful story. Larry lays it all out: The four-part structure, which I had heard of before, but with the mission and context of each part clearly explained, and the reasons why the story must shift at specific points to maximize its power. I’ve never found another explanation that so clearly lays it all out in a way that any story can be measured against it.

Some things the book answered for me were:

Why can’t we have the first plot point in chapter 1?
What needs to exist after the first plot point, where the hero learns his true mission, the stakes involved, and what force of opposition stands in the way?
What needs to happen at each of the other major milestones of the story to maximize its power?
How do I know if a scene really belongs in the book, and where it should be placed?
And much more.

In his Story Engineering book, Larry adds to the foundational structure, or physics, of a great story, by explaining what he calls the other ‘core competencies’ of writing required to make a story great. These include:

Concept
Character
Theme
Structure
Scene Execution
Writing Voice

If you can’t explain exactly what each of these are, particularly in context to your manuscript, you need this book. As he points out, the first 4 are elements of a great story, the raw material you craft your story with. The final two are the process of execution, where the art meets the physics.

Larry is clearly a proponent of story planning and outlining. I’ve moved in that direction myself  and found I can reduce the amount of rewriting substantially. However, for authors who are free-writers or discovery writers or ‘pantsers’, this knowledge is still vital. The early draft(s) for discovery writers are the search for story, just like story planners’ outlines. Only when they know the story they need to write and understand how all these core competencies fit into their story can they finally write a draft that will work.

I can’t recommend this book enough.

Another aspect of craft that Larry explores in his Story Engineering is found in the Three Degrees of Character. I’ve read other great books on character, but again I found Larry’s blunt, clear style incredibly powerful. He drills deep and lays truth bare in a way that authors can use it instantly. Within each of those three degrees of character are seven categories that need to be defined. Once an author understands these, they can be mixed and combined in almost infinite combinations to produce memorable, unique characters.

The three degrees of character are powerful. He explains them as:
1st degree: Surface Affections and Personality – what we show the world externally.
2nd degree: The inner landscape, the reasons why the character chooses to express themselves as they do to the world externally.
3rd degree: The very inner soul of the character, perhaps not known even to them in advance, where they show their true nature under extreme pressure. This is the dimension that ultimately defines character.

For example, if anyone has watched the Firefly SciFi series, the captain of the Serenity is a great example of a complex character.
1st dimension (the face he shows the world): He’s a tough-as-nails, no-nonsense character who will kill without remorse, and engage in illegal activities for a living.
2nd dimension (why): He fought against the empire that rules the galaxy, but his side lost. He does what he does to stay free and gain little victories against an enemy he still hates.
3rd dimension (true character): He will risk his life to save people he could easily justify sacrificing. He’s a man of honor who will risk everything to save those he loves or to fight tyranny. But he’ll punch you out if you say that to his face.

This is powerful stuff, and liberating when an author understands it. I need to review it again since character development is still one of my weaker skills, but the toolchest is there. I just need to train myself to use it.

For any author who really wants to master the toolbox we use to craft great stories, get Larry Brooks’ Story Engineering book and study it carefully. It will open doors of understanding and illuminate the path to the next peak in your writing career.