Tuesday, November 29, 2005
Three Things a Writer Should Always Remember...
1. What the Story is About -- This should go without saying, but occasionally writers do forget what kind of story they started out with and write an ending that belongs to a different genre. It's an incredibly dissatisfying experience for a reader. For example, the critically praised movie The Dark of the Sun begins as a very interesting adventure story about a mercenary racing Congo rebels for a treasure in diamonds. However, the end of the movie forgets the plotline and concentrates exclusively on the main character's internal journey. The ending forgets to answer critical questions (such as, did the rebels catch up with him? did he get away with the diamonds? did he make the deadline set by his employers?). The questions setup by the Inciting Incident at the beginning must be answered by the ending Climax.
2. Who Needs to Change -- This is subtler than the first item on the list, but just as vital to reader satisfaction. The problem doesn't even look like a problem for probably half the story, but it comes into glaring relief at the end. For example, suppose the story focuses on how the main character can't let go of the past, and how her inability to let go of the past creates problems between her and her children. Her children tell her to move on with her life, other characters tell her to let go... naturally, readers assume character growth for her will be her letting go of the past and moving on with her life. That's the happy ending readers expect, it's what they focus their emotions on and root for to happen. But, no! The writer forgets who needs to change. At the end, the children suddenly change and everybody lives happily ever after. Because this is not the ending anticipated, readers experience an emotional disconnect from the resolution. If a story makes a big deal about a certain character flaw in the protagonist, that needs to be the area of change at the end.
3. Actions Have Consequences -- If events don't have consequences, then they don't belong in the story. Protecting the chain of cause-and-effect logic is what saves readers from confusion. For example, suppose the main character is a superspy who goes on a mission to recover important computer data. There's a big, exciting scene where she gets the data--lots of conflict, lots of nail-biting suspense. When she gets back, it turns out the data is worthless. This is a simple goal-defeated-by-obstacle moment, but without a consequence (such as, her partner is injured and can't join her next mission) it could be removed from the story without being missed. The same could be said of a character-driven story where the heroine discusses her plight with friends, then goes home and discusses it with her family, then goes on vacation and discusses it with the hotel staff. Unless each dialogue scene has a unique consequence, it's just so much stuffing and not enough turkey.
2. Who Needs to Change -- This is subtler than the first item on the list, but just as vital to reader satisfaction. The problem doesn't even look like a problem for probably half the story, but it comes into glaring relief at the end. For example, suppose the story focuses on how the main character can't let go of the past, and how her inability to let go of the past creates problems between her and her children. Her children tell her to move on with her life, other characters tell her to let go... naturally, readers assume character growth for her will be her letting go of the past and moving on with her life. That's the happy ending readers expect, it's what they focus their emotions on and root for to happen. But, no! The writer forgets who needs to change. At the end, the children suddenly change and everybody lives happily ever after. Because this is not the ending anticipated, readers experience an emotional disconnect from the resolution. If a story makes a big deal about a certain character flaw in the protagonist, that needs to be the area of change at the end.
3. Actions Have Consequences -- If events don't have consequences, then they don't belong in the story. Protecting the chain of cause-and-effect logic is what saves readers from confusion. For example, suppose the main character is a superspy who goes on a mission to recover important computer data. There's a big, exciting scene where she gets the data--lots of conflict, lots of nail-biting suspense. When she gets back, it turns out the data is worthless. This is a simple goal-defeated-by-obstacle moment, but without a consequence (such as, her partner is injured and can't join her next mission) it could be removed from the story without being missed. The same could be said of a character-driven story where the heroine discusses her plight with friends, then goes home and discusses it with her family, then goes on vacation and discusses it with the hotel staff. Unless each dialogue scene has a unique consequence, it's just so much stuffing and not enough turkey.
New Article: "The Thirty-Second Pitch"
To "pitch" a story to an editor, agent, or other interested person is to answer the question, "What is it about?" as succinctly as possible. Anyone who has attended a writer's conference or spoken with a publishing professional understands the time pressure involved. Securing a fifteen minute appointment with an agent or editor is the equivalent of winning a silver mine. For most, however, the golden opportunities are measured not in minutes but in seconds.
How does a writer go about condensing the heart and soul of a 50,000, 75,000, or 100,000+ word novel into an impressive, professional, saleable thirty-second pitch?...
Continue reading the new article: "The Thirty-Second Pitch"
How does a writer go about condensing the heart and soul of a 50,000, 75,000, or 100,000+ word novel into an impressive, professional, saleable thirty-second pitch?...
Continue reading the new article: "The Thirty-Second Pitch"
Friday, November 11, 2005
Universal Truth
There are a lot of opinions about Universal Truth. One is that it doesn't exist; each person has his or her personal truth, which is a very fluid thing, i.e., situation ethics. Other opinions are that Universal truth is found in the ancient wisdom of the Masters. This is more of a universal spirituality than universal truth, as it proclaims every man is God incarnate. Ironically, these two opinions are Siamese twins, just one is dressed up fancier. Both are based on the premise that each person has the final say over judging whether his or her behavior is right or wrong.
Another opinion about Universal Truth is that it's found in the Bible; God, not humans, judges the morality of personal behavior. God's Word is Universal Truth, because He's the omniscient creator of the universe and His Word is final authority. This opinion is much more stable and dependable than the other(s), because the definition of right and wrong never changes.
In fiction, the "moral of the story" represents a Universal Truth. If the Universal Truth is unique to the character, then the author is promoting the first opinion that everyman is God. The moral of this kind of story then is confined to the strict set of circumstances within the plot. It surrenders any relevancy to the lives of the readers, because personal truth is personal--it says nothing of value about someone else's life. Though readers may find the story entertaining, when they close the last page, the predominant question in their minds will be, "What was the point?"
A Biblical perspective of Universal Truth takes the stand that certain behaviors benefit humans regardless of cultural or physical boundaries. The "moral of the story' may be love conquers all, or freedom is worth the ultimate price, or integrity is a better reward than wealth. These are truths that any reader anywhere can tap into, whether or not his or her life exactly fits the circumstances of the plot. Consequently, when readers finish a book with a Biblical Universal Truth, they have an answer when they ask themselves, "What was the point?"
Another opinion about Universal Truth is that it's found in the Bible; God, not humans, judges the morality of personal behavior. God's Word is Universal Truth, because He's the omniscient creator of the universe and His Word is final authority. This opinion is much more stable and dependable than the other(s), because the definition of right and wrong never changes.
In fiction, the "moral of the story" represents a Universal Truth. If the Universal Truth is unique to the character, then the author is promoting the first opinion that everyman is God. The moral of this kind of story then is confined to the strict set of circumstances within the plot. It surrenders any relevancy to the lives of the readers, because personal truth is personal--it says nothing of value about someone else's life. Though readers may find the story entertaining, when they close the last page, the predominant question in their minds will be, "What was the point?"
A Biblical perspective of Universal Truth takes the stand that certain behaviors benefit humans regardless of cultural or physical boundaries. The "moral of the story' may be love conquers all, or freedom is worth the ultimate price, or integrity is a better reward than wealth. These are truths that any reader anywhere can tap into, whether or not his or her life exactly fits the circumstances of the plot. Consequently, when readers finish a book with a Biblical Universal Truth, they have an answer when they ask themselves, "What was the point?"
Monday, November 07, 2005
New Book Analysis: COMES A HORSEMAN by Robert Liparulo
Comes a Horseman balances suspense and thriller conventions with an "outside the box" story concept that goes beyond combining a police procedural and end-times prophecies. The serial killer is as frightening, complex, and human as Hannibal Lector--but even more original. At the same time, the story is part Apocalyptic thriller, but with a credible and thought-provoking twist setting it apart from traditional end-time fictional fare.
The pace builds steadily like a suspense until halfway, then subtly shifts into the faster tempo of an international thriller. The author situates the reader on a classic razor's edge of suspense...
Continue Reading New Book Analysis of Robert Liparulo's COMES A HORSEMAN
The pace builds steadily like a suspense until halfway, then subtly shifts into the faster tempo of an international thriller. The author situates the reader on a classic razor's edge of suspense...
Continue Reading New Book Analysis of Robert Liparulo's COMES A HORSEMAN
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
Fun with Character Names & Anagrams
Anagrams are the letters of a word, phrase, or name rearranged to form a different word, phrase, or name. Letters, representing specific sounds, communicate emotional content and trigger different chemicals in the hearer's body. Anagrams, because they contain the same sounds as the source word, often communicate similar emotional and chemical stimuli.
When choosing a name for a character, a writer can explore anagrams for additional insights into personality traits, story roles, the character's self-image, and how other characters may react to him/her. Even silly anagrams may spark the writer's imagination in ways that otherwise might never have been considered. Flattering anagrams may suggest hidden qualities, while unflattering anagrams may suggest villains, shadow archetypes, or interpersonal conflict. For example: a plus-sized, buttoned-down chic lit heroine named Brittany ("tiny brat") might struggle with envying her petite, spoiled sister.
Here are examples of anagrams for some popular female and male names:
Andrew = wander, warden, warned
Brittany = tiny brat
Craig = cigar
Deborah = do rehab, bad hero
Ernest = resent, tenser
Florence = elf crone
Gerald = glared
Heidi = I hide
Irving = virgin
Jewell = we jell
Kareem = remake
Lisa = sail
Martin = tin arm
Nicole = I clone, no lice
Orville = I'll rove
Pamela = a maple
Quinton = non quit
Regina = regain, I range, I anger, in gear, in rage
Sean = sane
Teresa = teaser
Uriel = I rule
Valerie = I reveal, evil era
Wendell = we'll end
Xena = an ex
Yolando = loony ad
Zelda = lazed
Anagram shareware can be found online for PCs and Macintoshes, usually as part of puzzle game software. The following web sites offer free simplified browser-based anagram searches:
Anagram Logic Anagram Finder
Anagram Genius
The Anagram Engine
Internet Anagram Server
When choosing a name for a character, a writer can explore anagrams for additional insights into personality traits, story roles, the character's self-image, and how other characters may react to him/her. Even silly anagrams may spark the writer's imagination in ways that otherwise might never have been considered. Flattering anagrams may suggest hidden qualities, while unflattering anagrams may suggest villains, shadow archetypes, or interpersonal conflict. For example: a plus-sized, buttoned-down chic lit heroine named Brittany ("tiny brat") might struggle with envying her petite, spoiled sister.
Here are examples of anagrams for some popular female and male names:
Andrew = wander, warden, warned
Brittany = tiny brat
Craig = cigar
Deborah = do rehab, bad hero
Ernest = resent, tenser
Florence = elf crone
Gerald = glared
Heidi = I hide
Irving = virgin
Jewell = we jell
Kareem = remake
Lisa = sail
Martin = tin arm
Nicole = I clone, no lice
Orville = I'll rove
Pamela = a maple
Quinton = non quit
Regina = regain, I range, I anger, in gear, in rage
Sean = sane
Teresa = teaser
Uriel = I rule
Valerie = I reveal, evil era
Wendell = we'll end
Xena = an ex
Yolando = loony ad
Zelda = lazed
Anagram shareware can be found online for PCs and Macintoshes, usually as part of puzzle game software. The following web sites offer free simplified browser-based anagram searches:
Anagram Logic Anagram Finder
Anagram Genius
The Anagram Engine
Internet Anagram Server