Showing posts with label plot. Show all posts
Showing posts with label plot. Show all posts

February 21, 2009

Serendipity - On Being a Professional Amateur

Maya's series continues this week with some thoughts about plotting (or a lack thereof). I love this post, because at one time or another, this happens to every writer.

Serendipity (or Writing by the Seat of Your Pants)
By Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff

Sample sentence: Baldric concocted a cunning plan to scare the killer lawn gnome into staying away from the cave entrance so he could sneak in.

Writers sometimes use expositional sentences like this to cover plot holes. We’re writing by the seat of our pants—making it up as we go along. We’re stuck for a way to keep the bad guy out of the cave and we got nothin’. Instead of using the opportunity for some clever plotting we wing a cunning, but undisclosed plan.

It’s a form of deus ex machina. Sometimes it’s a magical mechanism or previously unknown power or ability that saves the day. The weapon or talent the hero wields to kill the rogue lawn gnome does not exist until he needs it. The magic horse is simply there when the prince is stranded someplace nasty. The pebble in the heroine’s shoe was just a pebble until it became more convenient for it to be a magical pebble.

Ultimately, the reader wants to be able to divine from action and dialogue and story arc a set of subliminal rules that help him predict what might happen and to whom. Plot twists only really work with those rules in place. Why? Because if the writer just makes stuff up as she goes along, the reader can’t tell a plot twist from the other gyrations the writer is putting him through.

“Just ‘cause” explanations, convenient objects or talents and repetitive changes in direction not only lose the reader’s trust, they wear the reader out. Any plot device that is important to the main thread and resolution of your story needs to be carefully worked out at least in part onstage, where the reader can watch.

No, you can’t think of everything up front. Sometimes you have to ad lib or you have an epiphany that results in a new plot twist, but then you need to go back and lay the ground work for it in the earlier portions of your manuscript so that it is appropriately built up and foreshadowed. If you provide the hero with a magical, singing sword of hoary legend on page 250, the reader needs to at least get wind of the hoary legend somewhere around page 75.

And if your hero needs to slip into the cave unmolested by that rogue lawn gnome, impress the reader by having him come up with a cunning plan worthy of showing off.

Exercise: Look at your own fiction or at fiction you've recently read—do you see signs of what I describe above? See if you can’t come up with a dynamite plan to sneak your hero past the lawn gnome—then let the reader in on part of your (hero’s) thinking. It will not only engender trust, it could prove pretty darned entertaining.

April 25, 2008

The Beginning of the End

Act I set up the story. Act II fleshed out the critical elements. Act III should be easy, right?

Answering Questions

If you’re using a framework (I’ve been using Syd Field’s screenwriting paradigm), then you’ve actually been looking at the end of your story from the very beginning. You might not know specifics, but you probably have a pretty good idea how to answer the following questions:

  • Characters: How have they changed? What have they experienced that has helped them change? What critical actions need to take place in Act III that prove that the character has changed?
  • Plot: What are the outstanding plot elements? What needs to be answered for the reader to be satisfied? What “loose ends” need to be wrapped up in order to call the story “finished?”

Even if you’re not using a framework, these are still pertinent questions that must be answered for the reader to feel fulfilled. Now you’ve got a starting point.

More Questions?

That’s what you need to answer, but there’s also the how. Act III is your opportunity to showcase your character’s growth. Often times, characters are reacting to situations that arise throughout the story. The antagonist(s) is acting and the protagonist is reacting.

In Act III the tables change. It's the protagonist’s duty to act. Why is this so important? Well, for one, the protagonist’s actions should prove that she has changed. Two, it ends the story with a climactic event. This is where the protagonist resolves the problem! Up until now she has been fighting to get to this very place.

To sum up Act III: this is where you resolve all the reader’s questions, showcase how the main character has grown (through her actions), and resolve all the story’s loose ends. When you put it that way it sounds so easy, right?

April 12, 2008

Act II is...Long?

You made it through the first act. You focused on the main character, you setup the story, and you engaged the reader. Excellent.

Now what?

Act II is the most difficult act to write. It’s twice as long as Act I, which means it’s twice as hard to keep it on track. It is divided right down the middle by the midpoint of the story, so that helps, but it’s still easy to lose focus.

Conflict and Growth

Syd Field’s paradigm uses the midpoint to divide Act II into separate parts. That allows the writer to re-focus her efforts in story segments. Each segment of Act II should propel the story forward. And therein lies the key to writing a successful second act: concentrated conflict and growth.

In Act II, the writer must move the story forward. Do you know where your story begins? Do you know where it ends? What’s the critical path for getting from point A to point B? That’s Act II.

Think of it as a road trip. You start in Los Angeles, end in Orlando. You’ve got a beginning (the setup), and an end (the result of trip and how it changed your characters). The journey between the two cities is Act II.

The Road Trip

The analogy works for two reasons. One, Act II must keep moving. You’re not going to get to Orlando (or the end of your story) unless the car is going somewhere. Two, the story isn’t going to be interesting without conflict and growth. Something has to be happening that moves the story forward. Characters struggle, learn, overcome, and eventually change.

Here’s where Act II becomes painful.

What were the most critical stops on your road trip? What events on the journey made the most impact? When you reached Orlando and looked back, what really contributed to your learning and growth? Anything that may have been cool, but didn’t amount to much by the time you reached Orlando has to go.

Act II is about concentrated conflict and growth. The story becomes the focus. It’s intentional, and demanding.

April 05, 2008

Act I - Goals

Last post, I mentioned that when the writer works within a framework or structure, he or she has the ability to knowingly or intentionally break the rules. If, as a writer, you don’t have a set of rules or guidelines to play with, then you won’t know when you’re breaking the rules.

How, then, do you figure it out?

Press on…

Take Act I and focus in on what needs to be accomplished before we hit Plot Point I and dive into Act II. What are your goals for Act I? What do you want the reader to experience? When Act I is over, what is it you want the reader to think, feel, and understand?

Here are some possibilities:
  • Goal #1 - The Main Character: the reader understands and begins to associate with the main character (including the key obstacles that he or she needs to overcome).
  • Goal #2 – The Foundation: the story’s premise and plot are developed.
  • Goal #3 – Engagement: The reader is fully engaged in the story and can’t put it down.
These goals give us focus and hold us accountable. We now know what we want to accomplish in Act I. We can measure it. Take your goals and infuse them into your structure. Can you break some of the structural rules and still accomplish your goals? Try it. See if it works. Measure it.

Goals are important. They define how we will interact with the fictional world around us. The next time you sit down in front of the keyboard or notepad, write out your goals and intentions for Act I. Try it!

Did I miss any critical goals for Act I? Do you have a different set of goals when you begin to put words on a page? Let me know!

April 03, 2008

Jump Right In - Act I

Act I is one of the more enjoyable acts to write. Why? Because we start writing! We explore, test out our characters, and determine the setting and tone for the rest of the story. Act I is critical. If we want our audience to keep reading (or watching), we must engage them!

Ready…Set…

You’ve got an idea of what your story is. You’ve got a path for your characters to follow. How do you get this plane off the ground? Let’s keep examining the paradigm I use that was created by Syd Field:

Divide Act I into three distinct, evenly spaced sections. If Act I is 25 pages, then each section is 8 pages long. According to Mr. Field and his paradigm, here’s what those sections should look like:
  • Pg. 1-8: Present the main character and showcase her problem.
  • Pg. 9-16: Focus on main character and demonstrate how this problem is affecting her life.
  • Pg. 17-24: Identify exactly what the problem is (culminating with Plot Point I).
Dial into your main character. The character must grow throughout the story. Determine where the character is and how she’s currently interacting with the world around her in Act I. Build tension. Set the tone. Allow the reader (or viewer) to become entrenched in the fictional world around them.

Writing a Novel vs. Screenwriting

I break the rules in Act I. Screenwriting requires extreme brevity. The focus must be on the main character throughout Act I. Writing a novel, however, allows for increased complexity. While I still focus most of my attention on the main character, I also add elements (usually from other major characters) that will appear later in the book.

And that’s why paradigms are so effective. You can intentionally break the rules and get away with it.

What’s your initial reaction to Act I? What do you do differently? What do you do that similar?

Referenced in this post: The Screenwriter's Workbook by Syd Field.

March 30, 2008

Exploring the Storytelling Paradigm

I’ve been promoting Syd Field’s storytelling paradigm, and yet I haven’t explained any of the details behind the technique. Let’s examine the components, and please share your thoughts.

The Structure

I wrote previously that Mr. Field’s plot structure revolves around four distinct segments of a story. Take a story, divide it into four evenly spaced sections, and you’ve got the basic structure of the paradigm. For a simplified example, let’s say the story is one hundred pages long. Here’s what the paradigm would look like:
  • Act 1: pg. 1 – 24 (culminating with Plot Point #1)
  • Act 2a: pg. 25 – 49 (culminating with the Midpoint)
  • Act 2b: pg. 50 – 74 (culminating with Plot Point #2)
  • Act 3: pg. 75 – 100
Outline…Paradigm…What’s the difference?

Each of these segments (along with its corresponding plot points) has a specific purpose. This is critical because it sets the stage for the story and supplies the writer with intentional guidelines in order to move the story along at the right pace.

An outline allows you to be more creative, but it lacks direction. Syd Field has examined exceptional storytelling in an effort to give writers tools that build interesting stories that engage readers.

Next post, I’ll get into more specifics surrounding each act. Do you have any initial responses to the technique? Have you used it? What do you use? I’d love to hear from all the writers out there.

Referenced in this post: The Screenwriter’s Workbook by Syd Field.

March 27, 2008

Take Syd Field’s Advice

Why do I use Syd Field’s storytelling paradigm? Several reasons:

Modern storytelling is done through visual means.

Television, film, and the Internet have become primary entertainment venues. Audiences gravitate toward these mediums and are accustomed to this form of storytelling. Syd Field’s framework is perfect for the modern day audience, even when applied to prose.

It’s where the action is.

Action/adventure stories must move quickly. Engage readers from the first letter, keep them turning pages, throw in a few twists and turns, and then wrap everything up before the reader catches his or her breath. I write a lot of adventure stories, so keeping up the pace is critical. Mr. Field’s framework fits my style.

Outlines and blueprints don’t go far enough.

An outline, or a blueprint (as a recent article in Writer’s Digest) isn’t enough for me. There aren’t enough boundaries. Syd Field’s paradigm requires storytellers to think strategically so that the reader (or viewer) doesn’t get bored.

Yes, Mr. Field’s framework is prescriptive, very much so, but to me it gives appropriate guidelines that allow me to stretch and mold the story into something more exciting for the reader. The paradigm actually facilitates my creativity. It makes the writing tighter and forces the writer to think ahead.

I would highly recommend Syd’s approach, even if it is primarily for screenwriters. But what is his exact approach? That’s another blog post…

March 21, 2008

Constructing a Story

Storytelling is about choices, and there are plenty of them. I just started a novel, and now I’m sitting in the ever-present ambiguity that is “creativity.” Every writer approaches these decisions differently, but the general question becomes: Are you a planner? Or do you just jump in?

For every writer that scrawling out extensive diagrams, there’s another that just grabs some paper and a pen before going to town. I fall somewhere in the middle. A framework helps me remember where I’m going and what the reader will find interesting.

In college, I read a book by Syd Field called The Screenwriter’s Workbook. It has been one of the most influential books in my collection. Every time I sit down to write a story, I go through the process Mr. Field discusses in this book. Yes, it is a screenwriting approach, but it supplies the principles of good storytelling, no matter the medium.

The basic element in this framework involves evenly dividing your story into four distinct pieces. Then, you interrupt those segments with three critical Plot Points. Each of the four segments develops a piece of the story, and the Plot Point reveals something that keeps the reader intrigued and interested.

It’s a pretty cool framework, and it works really well. Every now and again I revisit the book just to remind myself of how stories can be told effectively. I’ll discuss the concept more throughout the month, but in the meantime, how do you set yourself up to write? What methods do you use?

March 16, 2008

Review of Maya's Interview

As you can see, Maya is an experienced and accomplished writer. Let me summarize a few of her insights and share my reactions (I'd love to hear your's as well).

1. The writer’s skill set rests in the way they use the tools available to them.

Maya loves to interact with words. That’s her passion. Before plot, characters, setting, and dialogue (all of which she also mentioned), she talked about tinkering with words and language. All are important, and she excels at each, but the answer to that question is very telling, because it reveals so much about a writer’s style. Imagine Dan Brown answering the question... “The plot comes first.” Jane Austin? “Characters bring the story to life.” And maybe Jack London? “The setting must be realistic and believable.”

Each would answer the question differently and yet in the same breath tell you that the entire toolbox is critical to the overall story. But, when you read an artist's work, notice the details of how he or she manipulates each component, utilizing their unique skill set.

2. Creativity comes from everywhere.

Maya's first vision for The Meri came to her in a dream. Other writers eaves drop on conversations and watch people interact. Some tell about their own experience. Nothing defines creativity.

3. There’s a science to good metaphors?


I loved Maya’s advice on metaphors. How many of us sit in front of the computer wracking our brains for a metaphor? Now, sit back and follow Maya’s advice. Find parallels. Keep the parallels consistent (i.e. don't mix your metaphors). Be cautious with clichés. Don’t go overboard.

4. You mean...he didn't write that?


The Writer recently ran an article about ghostwriting. Does it hurt a writer’s brand? Help it? How does a reader feel when they learn that a book was ghostwritten? I feel like I would be reluctant ghostwrite or allow someone to ghostwrite for me. I would plant myself firmly within the “J Sherer” brand and stay there, but as Maya's experience has suggested, it can be a valuable process for both writers.

5. “Two heads are almost always better than one.”


After looking at the first point again (listed above under 1. The writer's skill set...) regarding style, it's easy to see why collaborating makes sense. Let’s say one writer’s skill is in crafting exciting, "can’t stop reading" plots. A second writer’s skill is in developing characters and defining the setting. Put those two together and you’ve got quite a combo. It's something that would allow the writers to encourage, strengthen, and learn from one another, but I think Maya's advice is well thought out: someone has to be the decision-maker.

I thoroughly enjoyed Maya’s interview, and I’ve got two more writers lined up for interviews, so stay tuned for more thoughts and discussion points. In the meantime, how do the points above hit you?