Category Archives: Storyline

Thou Shall (Not) Kill Your Darlings

Don’t you do it, George.

There is a popular piece of advice that has gone around (and around) writing circles since William Faulkner said it: “In writing, you must kill all your darlings.” Joss Whedon has since advised writers to cut what they love most from their manuscripts or screenplays if they’ve come up against a serious case of writer’s block. The advice is, succinctly: take out what you love the most to get “unstuck.” And writers have agonizingly cut their beloved characters and scenes out of their first and second drafts, thinking they are heeding valuable advice.

While I personally think authors like George R. R. Martin kill off beloved characters particularly well in order to elicit emotions from the reader, that’s not exactly what we’re talking about. I mean when a writer gets some alpha or beta reader’s feedback suggesting they cut a character or scene the author particularly loves. Forcing a character out of a first or second draft can be devastating to a newer writer. Sometimes, it might be necessary. But other times, it’s important to recognize when you have something special.

We can safely assume Joss Whedon has been stuck on many occasions because he’s a writer and that’s in the job description. Let’s imagine Whedon came down with a serious case of writer’s block while working on episodes of Firefly. Following his own advice, what would he take out? My favorite part of the show is Malcolm Reynolds, the captain of the firefly ship Serenity. Now let’s just imagine Firefly without Malcolm Reynolds for a minute. I can’t help but ask myself… What’s the point, anymore?

Would the show have reached its famed cult status if Whedon replaced Mal with a different, less Han Solo-esk character? Perhaps, but an absolutely vital piece of what makes Firefly so memorable, part of its magic, would have been buried in old drafts, never to see the light of day. Mal is special. He’s important to the story, and the story would be weaker without him. Imagine if we never knew Nathan Fillion as Mal because Whedon was under a deadline, or had had a bad week?

Put down the knife; back slowly away from the computer. Before immediately killing off your favorite character or deleting your favorite scene, I offer you an alternative: questions.

1. Did I develop this character to his/her full potential?

2. Is there something buried in my character’s past that could be vital to this story and increase conflict?

3. *Gulp* Is there a conflict?

4. What about my character could cause conflict with: a. others, b. his/her surroundings, c. his/her culture, or d. him/herself?

5. Did I outline this story? (Most writers report writer’s block when they skimp on pre-writing and outlining)

6. Am I holding back, or waiting to reveal something pivotal until the end? What if I put it near the beginning instead? How would that change the story, and could it make the story stronger?

7. What would make my side characters more interesting to play as a foil to the main character? Are the side characters just as developed as my main character?

8. Would taking this character out of my story make the story stronger or significantly weaker?

9. Pretend you have cut the scene or character in question. Are you just as enthusiastic about the project as you were before?

10. Are you willing to put in the time and work to fix the issue, deepen the character, conflict, or scene, in order to keep it in your project?

When it comes down to it, writers either run on enthusiasm or discipline. Ideally, at least a little of both. If the character or scene you love is giving you trouble, ask yourself if you’re still enthusiastic about the story, and committed to telling it. If it’s one of your first stories or drafts, you may find it’s better to cut your losses and either begin again or start a different story entirely. But if you love the story and are committed to telling it, there is always a way to fix the problem without resorting to cutting or killing your beloved darlings.

I Would Do Anything for Love…

 

But I won’t do that. You know what I’m talkin’ about, Meatloaf.

 

Instead, we did all of this:

Victoria Morris Threaded the Tapestry

Gregory D. Little Subverted the Meet Cute

Ace Jordan did the Science of Love to Explain the Murky Middle

Mary reminded us that All You Need is Love

Joshua Essoe gave us advice about Writing Sex ScenesIn two posts!

Clancy showed us the Flip Side: Bad Girls and Anti-Heroes and Why the Guys Love them

Travis Heermann Examined and Bound

Kim May Pleasured us with Pain

Stephan McLeroy no longer Struggles to Define Love

Leigh Galbreath Drew us in with Dysfunctional Relations

Tracy Mangum gave us a master class in Love in Screenplays

Jace Killian showed us the Try and Fail in Love

Matt Jones made Ignorant Secret Troubled Love to us

Tracy Mangum followed up with Sex in Screenplays

Lisa Mangum reminded us that First Comes Like

Frank Morin pushed A Life of Passion

Colette advised us to Let Love Simmer

And RJ Terrell wrote On Love

 

Sure, this month is over, but we know you’ll be back. If you fall we will catch you, and we’ll be waiting. Time after time.

 

First Comes Like

A guest post by Lisa Mangum.

Lately, I’ve been watching a lot of Netflix or shows that I’ve recorded on my DVR, which means that I’m not watching a lot of commercials (hooray!), but I caught one the other day for a dating site with the tagline: “First Comes Like.” As tags go, I thought it was pretty clever. Because before love comes along, there is like—in real life, and in fiction.

The idea of like was one of the sparks that I fanned into the story that became After Hello. I wanted to write a story that took place in one day and really focused on the 24-hours immediately after my two characters said “Hello.” How did they become friends? Why? At what point could that friendship turn into something more? Could I keep them together for a whole day without it being boring or weird? Those were intriguing questions to me, and then I thought about how much I loved the movie Before Sunrise, and I jumped right in.

And it was strange and awkward at first. But that was okay, because most first meetings between people are strange and awkward. Plus, I was getting to know Sam and Sara at the same time they were getting to know each other.

I realized pretty quickly that in order to pull off the story I had in mind, I needed to keep an eye on two things: what they SAID, and what they DID. Dialogue and action, those where going to be my two best tools to build the plot.

And really, isn’t that how most friendships start? We’re focused on learning more about the other person so we ask a lot of questions. We offer a lot of information. We make jokes; we tell stories. We talk for hours.

So that’s what I had Sam and Sara do. Spending the whole day together meant they were going to talk to each other—a lot. I worked on keeping the conversation natural but still interesting. Not only did they need to talk about PLOT stuff, but they needed to feel comfortable enough with each other so that they could talk about CHARACTER stuff.

I started their conversation with a blend of mystery and humor. Questions were asked, but answers were given in a roundabout way. Often Sam deflected. Sara sometimes made a joke, sometimes not. They had conversations with other people. I tried to parcel out the information in bits and pieces, not all at once. After all, even in real life, the best conversations feel organic, not an info-dump on page 1.

Real-life friendships also develop because of what the other person does. How do they behave in stressful situations? Are they nice to strangers? Do they lose their temper? I wanted to show Sam and Sara in a variety of situations so they could see each other in action.

When it comes to writing romance, remember one thing: first comes like. Your characters need to be likable so that we like them. That way when the characters fall in love, so will we.

Watch the After Hello book trailer:

About Lisa Mangum:
Author Photo Lisa Mangum FINALLisa Mangum attended the University of Utah, graduating with honors with a degree in English. A lifetime lover of books, she has worked in the publishing industry since 1997, editing works by several New York Times bestselling authors as well as debut novelists. She is currently the Managing Editor of Shadow Mountain Publishing.

Besides books, Lisa loves movies, sunsets, spending time with her family, and trips to Disneyland. She lives in Utah with her husband, Tracy. She is the author of four award-winning YA novels (The Hourglass Door trilogy and After Hello), a short story (“Sold Out”), and novella (“&”). She also edited One Horn to Rule Them All: A Purple Unicorn Anthology. 

You can find her on Twitter @LisaMangum or Facebook.com/lisamangum.

The Pleasure of Pain

Cupid is dead. The perfect relationship doesn’t exist. There is no happily ever after and while love can bring a lot of joy, it often brings just as much pain. Sometimes more.

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“How can you say that?! It’s almost Valentines day!”

“Preach it, sister!”

“You’re just say that because you’ve never been in love.”

“Gee, someone is jaded.”

Did you find yourself saying one or more of these? If you picked #2 you get a cyber fist bump. If you picked one of the others than you need to be slapped with a herring because the Dread Pirate Roberts was right when he said that “life is pain.”

Every relationship has it’s bumps and bruised egos, it’s disagreements and arguments about how to properly hang a fly swatter (What? You haven’t argued about that?), and every now and again a tragic ending. (Though, if you’re Nicholas Sparks, every romance is tragic.) So if you want your character’s romance to feel real to readers you need to be a sadist. You need to inflict pain on your imaginary lovers.

I know it sounds a bit Greek to stipulate that something has to go horribly wrong in order for the story to be right. And depending on where you are in your authorial journey this may not be an easy concept to grasp. But think about it. Have you ever had a significant other that said or did something that hurt your feelings? Did they lie to your face? Have they cheated on you or betrayed your trust in some other way? Did they incur debt in your name? Or far worse, were you emotionally, psychologically, or physically abused? If you haven’t suffered the more grievous of these, I’m glad, though I suspect that you may know someone who has. Statistics make is likely, unfortunately. And let’s not forget that we’re just as capable of committing offense as our partner.

It’s one of the certainties of life that every now and then there will be some difficulty that you and your partner will have to work through if you’re going to continue to be a couple. Because of that readers, either consciously or unconsciously, expect fictional couples to do the same. Though there is a deeper reason for it.

The truth is, the Greeks were on to something. Observing the life of someone whose experiences are  more painful than yours is satisfying. It gives us hope and strength. If these fictional people can muster the courage, forgiveness, and whatever else to work out their differences, learn from mistakes, and become happier more functional couples by the end of the tale than so can we. Especially if our trials aren’t as bad. If they are as bad, the same affect can be seen. It’s not quite the same as schadenfreude; though if the tale is comedic that can certainly be the case. In fact, The Bridget Jones books and films like How to Lose a Guy in 10 days prove that disfunction can be entertaining and moving at the same time.

Making our characters suffer can be hard. Oh who am I kidding. It’s a lot of fun! Bring on the pain! *cracks whip*

Oh, sure if you’re a really nice person or new to the craft it can be hard but eventually you’ll get comfortable with it. It doesn’t make you a bad person. You’re not torturing real people so stop expecting the NSA to offer you a position at their new secret interrogation facility. (They’re fully staffed. I’ve checked.) It’s our duty as writers to make the worlds and characters we create as real as possible we can’t do that if we only include the good. The sad and tragic need to be present as well and that goes double for matters of the heart.