Monday, October 16, 2017

Planning Stories: A guide to getting a project from beginning to end.

More than once, this blog has asserted that a story is not the same as a character sketch or a vignette. It has characters and things move and change. Getting a story from the nugget of an idea to a completed manuscript is real work, and it does not happen without focused effort.

What follows is a guide to planning a story and getting it going. It can be used as a worksheet that is directly completed or held to the side as a strategy or approach.

THEME, MORAL, POINT
After someone reads your story, how will they be changed? How will they think (and perhaps act) differently BECAUSE of your story? Is there a quote you are illustrating? Is there a moral mandate you are promoting?

TIME SETTING/TECHNOLOGY
If a fantasy world, identify a range of historical periods that match your world’s technology level (e.g. Bronze Age, Industrial Revolution). While you can mix and match somewhat, having something to start with is a good idea.

If writing in the future, sketch out some of the science behind things in the story (ray guns, warp drives, etc.)

PHYSICAL SETTING
Where does the story take place. Depending on the story, you may need a detailed “world map” or just the sketch of a room.

POINT OF VIEW—also POINT OF VIEW CHARACTER(S)
For a short story, you better have a really good reason if you plan to change point of view.

CHARACTERS
Open a different document to be the “wiki” for your story. In a separate document, you can look back and forth easily as you write the story.

HOOK/ENDING
Writing to an ending always seems to guide the story, so starting with the ending (at least in a bullet form) is a good way to start. Starting with the HOOK probably feels more natural, but can leave you wandering around. Therefore…

COMPLICATING EVENT(S)What keeps the characters from simply waltzing through the story? What is in the way of them reaching the ending? 

BULLET POINT THE PLOT
To be honest, it is probably unlikely that you will OVER-PLAN the story. Bulletting the whole story before finishing the first page is NOT a bad idea. It will guide you and keep you on track. It will ALSO allow you to PLAN side-track sections!

WRITE, REVIEW, REVISE, and REPEAT
As you go toward the PLANNED ending, you will want to keep going back to review/revise what you have already written. You might need to change or add details in early scenes to set up and make later scenes make sense. 

FINAL EDIT(S)
So you are done. Now, fine every comma error, every misspelled word, and every other error… Fix them. Then go back and do it again, because you didn’t find them all.
 

And get someone to do a critique!

Following this guide is not some formulaic approach to getting your story in order. It is a guide to the work you have to do.

Ultimately, writing a story of any length requires accomplishing the above tasks in some order. Following this guide will give you some structure to your planning and help you develop a roadmap to the story you wish to write.

Sunday, April 16, 2017

Troublesome Words… Loose and Lose; Flench and Flinch; Clench and Clinch; Shear and Sheer

It might be a problem more or less unique to me, but there are a few words I have struggled for half-a-century to figure out. Topping the list is loose and lose!

Loose and Lose

One means to misplace something. The other means to set free or to make less tight. But which is which, and how can you remember?

Loose means to set free or make less tight. It does not rhyme with choose (the other one does!) So, here's what I came up with:

The moose is loose!

Loose rhymes with moose… and both have two "o"s

Lose means to misplace something. That is to say, to cause something to become lost.

Lose and lost both have four letters. BAM!



Flench and Flinch

Spellcheck will betray you! Both of these are correct spellings of completely different words.

Flinch means to "make a quick, nervous movement."

Flench is an alternative form of flense, meaning to strip the blubber or skin from something, like a whale.

Only one of these will I ever do. I might flinch. Flinch has an "i" in it.



Clench and Clinch

Again, don't rely on spellcheck for this one.

Clench means to squeeze. Clinch means to settle or close a deal (but also to grapple, cuddle, or embrace).

So… this is a stretch… When you eat, you clench your jaw. Eat starts with 'e" an clench has an "e" in it.



Sheer and Shear

One of these is and adjective meaning just barely, nothing other than; or meaning minimally thick or having a minimal margin. The other means to cut something off (like wool from a sheep).

So, sheep are sheared. Lace curtain are sheer.

To sort these out with a gimmick, requires another stretch.

You have to shear around the ear of the lamb! "Ear" and "shear" rhyme and "lamb" and "shear" both have an "a" in them.

A person could win a contest by sheer luck. A cliff is sheer. A person might experience sheer terror or sheer delight (unmitigated).






Monday, April 3, 2017

Troublesome Words Lie (or lay?) Within

There are plenty of jokes about how English is challenging, and for good reason. Among the many challenges with English usage is the case of lay and lie.

What makes these words so hard? Let's think about it…

Lie, to begin with, has two meanings. The "not tell the truth" aspect of lie brings in another whole conversation!

Skipping over that, we get to the place where lie and lay have the similar concept of the position of something. Though similar, they are different.

Using the Apple Dictionary program, consider these two definitions:


lay 1 |lā|
verb (past and past participle laid |lād| ) 
1 [ with obj. ] put down, especially gently or carefully: she laid the baby in his crib.
• prevent (something) from rising off the ground: there may have been the odd light shower just to lay the dust. 
2 [ with obj. ] put down and set in position for use: it is advisable to have your carpet laid by a professional | figurative : the groundwork for change had been laid.
• set cutlery, crockery, and mats on (a table) in preparation for a meal: she laid the table for the evening meal.
• (often be laid with) cover (a surface) with objects or a substance: the floor was laid with tiles.
• make ready (a trap) for someone: she wouldn't put it past him to lay a trap for her.
• put the material for (a fire) in place and arrange it.
• work out (an idea or suggestion) in detail ready for use or presentation: I'd like more time to lay my plans.
• (lay something before) present information or suggestions to be considered and acted upon by (someone): he laid before the House proposals for the establishment of the committee.
• (usu. be laid) locate (an episode in a play, novel, etc.) in a certain place: no one who knew the area could be in doubt where the scene was laid.
Nautical follow (a specified course).
• [ no obj. ] Nautical go or come: they had to lay aloft.
• [ with obj. ] stake (an amount of money) in a wager: she suspected he was pulling her leg, but she wouldn't have laid money on it. 
3 [ with obj. ] used with an abstract noun so that the phrase formed has the same meaning as the verb related to the noun used, e.g., “lay the blame on” means ‘to blame’: she laid great stress on little courtesies. 
4 [ with obj. ] (of a female bird, insect, reptile, or amphibian) produce (an egg) from inside the body: flamingos lay only one egg | [ no obj. ] : the hens were laying at the same rate as usual.
Worth noting, lay has other usages, such as in "lay person" or "she sang an old lay about the sea."

lie 1 |lī|verb (lies, lying |ˈlī-iNG| ; past lay |lā| ; past participle lain |lān| ) [no obj.] 
1 (of a person or animal) be in or assume a horizontal or resting position on a supporting surface: the man lay face downward on the grass | I had to lie down for two hours because I was groggy | Lily lay back on the pillows and watched him.• (of a thing) rest flat on a surface: a book lay open on the table.• (of a dead person) be buried in a particular place. 
2 be, remain, or be kept in a specified state: the church lies in ruins today | putting homeless families into apartments that would otherwise lie empty.• (of something abstract) reside or be found: the solution lies in a return to “traditional family values.” 
3 (of a place) be situated in a specified position or direction: the small town of Swampscott lies about ten miles north of Boston.• (of a scene) extend from the observer's viewpoint in a specified direction: stand here, and all of Amsterdam lies before you. 
4 Law (of an action, charge, or claim) be admissible or sustainable.noun (usu. the lie)the way, direction, or position in which something lies.Golf the position in which a golf ball comes to rest, especially as regards the ease of the next shot.• the lair or place of cover of an animal or a bird.

Attempting to simplify this discussion, I have limited things to the verbs, though both lay and lie come with noun versions as well.

Also, congratulations, English, for making the past tense of lie the word lay. That helps!

So, the first question becomes knowing which (lay or lie) to use. Once the right word is found, then finding the right tense comes next.

The key difference is that lay always requires and object. If something is being placed somewhere, it is the word lay (or the past tense, laid) such as:

Bob and Mary lay the books on Mary's desk.

If something is just being described to be in a place, it is lie (or the past tense, lay) such as:

The books lie on Bob and Mary's desk.

How shall this ever be easy to remember? How about an analogous comparison?

Let us consider sit and set! (But, ignoring the connotation of set to mean a group of things.)

These words work like lay and lie, yet seem to do so without nearly the confusion. Sit is an action that puts something into a particular position. Set is something that is done to something else.

Though it is possible to confuse these two words as well, I am inclined to think most writers do not as often mix these up, so we can see by example:

I am going to sit in this chair.
I am going to set this glass down, too.

If a command of sit and set is possessed, then mastery of that can be extended to lie and lay. (Or, if either of the two is mastered, then that mastery can easily be extended to the other.)

Look at the usage for sit and set:

Mary set the books on her desk.

and
The books sit on Mary's desk.

So, how does this help? Set is analogous to lay and sit is analogous to lie.

So, how does that help?

If you can remember how to use sit, then you can pair that with how to use lie. And here's the "trick"!

The second letter of lie and sit is (coincidentally) the same! 

For writers who have no trouble with sit versus set, this relationship can inform the use of lie and lay. Once the correct word is found, then finding the correct tense follows, but getting to the correct word in the first place needs to be done…first.



Thursday, March 9, 2017

Disguising Descriptions

Many readers like to have the author describe things for them. There is a balance between filling in the details and leaving room for the reader to create the world of the story in their head. Whatever the level of description that is provided, there are different ways to provide it, depending on what the story needs.

There is an efficiency to just telling what someone looks like. But is that interesting?

There has to be a balance between showing and telling. There needs to be times when a writer just tells the reader something that is not of monumental importance and move on. It's generally a good idea to limit unimportant descriptions to only what is needed to move the story ahead.

Suppose there is a fantasy fight scene, and the hero is being battling through the enemy forces. This might be a case where a quick "tell" trumps "showing" the details. Suppose the hero is named Bob and he is trying rescue Princess Jane.

Bob jumped over the body of the enemy he had just defeated and hurried toward Princess Jane, but he quickly realized his goal would not be easily reached. A huge, grim-faced man with a massive battle-axe stood in his way.

With just a few words, a rough sketch of his enemy it provided, and the action continues unbroken. Alternately, the writer could "show" through many words that the attacker was… a huge, grim-faced man with a massive battle-axe.

There are, however, many times when just "telling" the reader what someone looks like is boring and trite. There are times when the technique of "showing" is much more appropriate.

One way is to have a character react to the appearance of the other person. For instance, instead of telling the read that:

Jane was a pretty girl with long, blond hair and a contagious smile.

a character (Bob again) could be used to show the reader:

Bob looked down at his sweater and noticed a long, blond hair clinging to it, contrasted against the dark blue wool. He figured it must belong to Jane, and thought about how she liked to push her hair back behind her ears. He always thought doing that enhanced just how pretty she was, especially when she flashed her contagious smile.

The use of the showing technique is limited only by the creativity of the writer to do so. What's more, with showing, the description can be used to move other subtle plot points along at the same time.

The challenge is to decide when to show and when to tell. As a rule, showing wins, but at the risk of potentially slowing the pace of the story.

Even if the story is served well by just telling something, breaking the description up in sections can make it more interesting. Likewise, using the "show" technique can work even better if it is broken up into sections.

Mary watched Leon as he brushed out his hair for the third time since they started driving. It wasn't as if he had that much hair in the first place. He crew cut was fresh, and she saw no reason he needed to brush it so much. 
The sunshine angled into the side window and lit up his hair making it glow like some bushy, red toy animal. Mary thought it was a little funny, and smiled. 
"What?" Leon looked over at her and tossed her the brush. 
"Nothing…" 
"Why are you smiling, then? You don't do that without a reason." 
"Okay, the way the sun shines through your hair made me think of a little red-headed troll doll." 
Leon laughed and looked down the road, then shook his head and muttered. "As if trolls have amazing blue eyes and freckles. Really, Mary! Be serious." 
"Okay, if you say so."

The little scene took some turns and twists before painting the picture that Leon had short, red hair, blue eyes, and freckles. But it might be that the twists and turns were interesting.

When creating descriptions, the adage of "show, don't tell" is important. Though there are times when it isn't called for, as a rule, it is always better to find some way to make the descriptions do more than paint a picture. And when the "show" technique is used, this is far more easily done.


Monday, February 27, 2017

Picking Point of View

At some point after deciding upon the desired reader response and getting a sketch of what will happen to bring that about, the time comes to start crafting scenes that will actually unfold the story. Before anything is written, it is necessary to decide how to handle point of view.

Point of view determines many things in how the story is told, and it is not something to approach without serious consideration. It arguably has as much to do with how a story unfolds as anything else.

For instance, if a story it told in first person past tense (and to write in any other tense is an exception to the norm), it is fair to assume that the speaker didn't die. If the point of view is third-person and limited to the protagonist (let's say Alex), then only the thoughts of Alex can be revealed. If Alex does not know, then the reader does not know. HOWEVER, the reader ought to know everything Alex knows, so if Alex is a spy or a criminal or in love with another character, the reader should know.

Picking the point of view, therefore, becomes a very, very important consideration. What is decided has far-reaching impact into how the story is told.

For example, consider how the POV impacts the following examples.

Example 1

Alex stood looking at the situation, a look of concern on his face. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and took a tentative step forward onto the creaking lake ice.
Ahead of him, the small child called for help once more. Alex took another step, and stopped, waiting for the cracking ice to reveal its strength before going further.
 
"Hang tight!" Alex yelled. 
He looked back at the shore to see if the other first-responders were coming, shook his head, and took another step. Four steps later, Alex laid down on the ice and reached ahead for the child. 
"Take my hand! Hurry!" 
The child groped for Alex's hand, finally clasping it. Alex pulled the wet, cold child onto the ice, then pushed him for shore. 
"Scoot toward shore. Go now." 
Alex didn't move until the child had slid well away from the danger area, then he slid himself for shore. Once he was much closer, he rose to his feet and carefully took himself the rest of the way to where the rest of the rescuers waited.

Example 2

Looking at the situation, I couldn't believe what I saw, but the kid was yelling for help, so I knew I had to do something. When I stepped onto the ice, I thought for sure it was going to give way, but it held. 
I could see the kid was scared, so I yelled. "Hang tight!" 
Looking back up the shore, I could see my buddies from the unit coming down the bank, but they didn't seem to be in a big hurry. The grade was steep and covered with ice, so I figured they didn't want to end up in the lake. I moved four more steps over the creaking ice before I laid down to spread out my weight. I figured I was about to either die or save a kid, and I almost laughed.
"Take my hand! Hurry!" 
I reached for the kid, but he just sat there like he was frozen, barely moving, until I wagged my fingers and got his attention. I finally got a grip on him, and his strength surprised me, so I was able to pull him out onto the ice. 
I shoved him along the ice, toward shore, belly down. "Scoot toward shore. Go now." 
I laid there on the ice after that, half-expecting it to crash through with me, until he was at least to the shallows, then I slid along after him a good distance before standing up. I got off the ice as fast as I could, to where the rest of the crew waited for me.

Clearly, the events are the same. However, the reader senses the scene quite differently because the point of view is different.

The Internet is, of course, full of many, many, discussions of point of view. Consider a couple of links:

http://thewritepractice.com/point-of-view-guide/ 
http://www.writersworkshop.co.uk/PointsofViewinFiction.html 
http://www.writersdigest.com/writing-articles/by-writing-goal/improve-my-writing/what-point-of-view-should-you-use-in-your-novel
Some Things to Consider

There are numerous things to consider in using point of view.

Switching Points of View

Changing points of view in a single work needs to be thought through carefully. Does the risk of offending or confusing the reader outweigh the value of having different points of view? The shorter the work, the less desirable it is to change points of view.

Dead Men Tell no Tales

If using first person, and you plan on killing off the point of view character, you will have some challenges to face.

One Character Can't Know Everything

If you are writing from a character point of view (even in 3rd person) that character can't know what the others are thinking. They can know what they are thinking and, therefore, the narrative can include that. They can only infer what others are thinking.
Just then, a clown jumped out of the refrigerator. Carl was shocked, but Maddy's expression seemed to reveal that she was horrified.
Carl, in the example, is the narrator, and thus, the narrator can report what Carl felt, but only what Carl thought about Maddy's reaction.

Closing Thoughts

By this point in the history of the Internet, a writer could probably spend weeks, if not more, researching different ideas about point of view.  Chances are, beginning writers could find a host of opinions and ideas that would help them guide their writing. Or confuse them.

A good beginner strategy is to jump in and just use first person or third person, limited, and start writing. Doing this will help them develop skills in sticking to a perspective that they can expand as they grow in their experiences.



Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Constructing Dialog

One of the great tasks of writing fiction is to depict conversations between the characters. There are clearly many creative, artistic consideration that go along with writing dialog, but there is also some things that cross over into the mechanics.

There are many, many, internet sources related to writing dialogue. Among those is this one from Writers Digest:

http://www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/there-are-no-rules/keep-it-simple-keys-to-realistic-dialogue-part-i

However, for the sake of keeping things easy to find, I'll share a few things that seem very important in composing dialogue.

Beats vs Attribution

Any time you write dialogue, you probably want to make sure your reader knows who is saying what. This is done, generally one of two ways, and usually in combination.

The first, tried and true, method is the use of attribution. An attribution is a simple direct way of showing who said something.

"Well, that was interesting," Jane said.

Beats combine some character action with the words they say, so that the reader both sees what is happening and hears what is said.

"Well that was interesting." Jane nodded her head and rolled her eyes.

The punctuation for an attribution is rather set. The words spoken are in quotes and there is a comma that sets off the attribution which is outside the quotes. While it seems very boring, when using attributions, it is usually best to stick to some basics and avoid being flowery. Thus, a small repertoire of attributing words can get most of the work done: said, asked, replied, repeated. Unusual words can actually distract from the story! Compare:

"I, for one, think your hair looks great!" Carol replied. 
"I for one, think your hair looks great!" Carol opined.

Keep in mind that the purpose of attribution is to let the reader know who said what. In some cases, a little more information can be added, and style will ultimately dictate just how much, but as a rule, limiting the work done by attributions is a good idea.

In almost every case, what each person says should be treated as its own paragraph. When using beats, a few short sentences can be included with the spoken words, but make sure that it is clear who is saying what. If you have a lot of action, just set that up as a paragraph, and put the words spoken in a paragraph of their own.

It usually works well to use beats and attributions in combination. Compare the two versions of the scene below.

Carol and Kevin sat at the small cafe table waiting on their coffees to be served. Carol was clearly upset, and Kevin wanted to help her through the situation as best as he could.
"I really don't know what to do," Carol said. 
She looked around at the others present, as if an answer lurked somewhere among them. Kevin waited for her to look back at him and settle down. 
"It will be fine. I'll stick with you through it all," Kevin said. 
"I know you will," Carol replied. 
The waiter brought their coffee. 

Now, see how this passage reads if some of the attributions are changed.

Carol and Kevin sat at the small cafe table waiting on their coffees to be served. Carol was clearly upset, and Kevin wanted to help her through the situation as best as he could.
"I really don't know what to do." She looked around at the others present, as if an answer lurked somewhere among them. 
Kevin waited for her to look back at him and settle down. "It will be fine. I'll stick with you through it all."
"I know you will," Carol replied. 
The waiter brought their coffee. 

The story is the same, but there is just a different feel to the second version. The possibilities are endless, and the art is to find the best combination that best fits the style and tone of the story.

Monday, February 6, 2017

Story is as Story Does: Planning in advance.

The process of writing is, on one hand, an art (as opposed to, on the other, the technical aspects of putting words and symbols into a discernible pattern following strict grammar and punctuation rules), so setting out hard and fast principles for the creative side is challenging. However, there comes a time as a story takes on life that something like a plan or outline needs to be formulated. Because outline sounds like something a high school teacher would require, I am going to call it a story plan.

An early argument made in this blog was that a writer should begin with the end in mind. When, in a writer's head, there is enough ideas to spark awareness that a story is brewing, it was suggested that the writer needs to decide how he or she wants the reader to respond to the finished work. Thus, identifying the desired reader response became the first step in transforming a cloud of characters, settings, lines, or scenes into a finished work of fiction or poem.

Once the desired reader response is identified, the next step is to decide how that happens. What needs to happen to the characters and their world in order to create the response that is hoped for? In most cases, changes in the reader will reflect changes in the story or in parts of a story.

Keeping the desired reader response in mind—whatever that might be: change how they view their world, change their mood, change their thoughts about a topic—a writer needs to plan the story. Where does the story begin? How will it be told? What happens along the way?

Something in the story needs to change. There needs to be movement of some kind. Either one or more of the characters needs to change or the world in which they exist needs to change. Or both. The character does something that changes the world. The world does something that changes the character. The reader, then, changes in response to what they see happening in the story.

The writer needs to have a good idea what is going to happen before he or she begins lining up carefully selected words in a particular order. The story plan needs to come first, and it needs to guide writers as they select scenes and compose dialog. The plan needs to be a rudder that keeps the story moving through the sea of possibilities until it caries the reader to the writer's intended destination.

I picked the word "rudder" carefully. Any voyage can be better with surprising side-tracks, but too many of them distracts the reader from the main point. Eventually, the intended destination gets lost amidst the side-trips, and when it is finally reached, the reader is left with a "is this it?" feeling. Thus, side-tracking needs to be controlled carefully, and it is made better if glimpses of the final destination can be seen from each course departure. The plan helps make this possible.

Another purpose of a good story plan is to inform the writing process such that the writer knows when to stop. Writers can ask themselves what it will take to lead the reader to the desired response. When that happens, they can stop writing. Writers can use their story plans to assure that the ending is clear, and when reached, the story will have accomplished all the things the writers wanted to do.

While a single work can have more than one desired outcome, it will be important to use the plan to see that each of the desired outcomes are achieved. In fact, the more desired outcomes, the more important the plan becomes. Noting in the plan how each of the scenes or events (or moments of dialog, even) or each line in a poem contributes to one or more desired outcomes both assures that everything the writer wants to accomplish is accomplished and justifies the inclusion of each component of the story or poem.

Story plans can take many different forms. The outline is not a bad idea, but it is not the only idea. Alternately, a timeline can be used, or simply a sequence of events. A scene list or story-board is also a good idea. How you plan your work is not nearly as important as that you actually plan out the list of steps needed to lead the reader to the desired reader response.

Where it is a good idea for the entire story to be guided by a plan, each scene, too, can be guided by the points in the overall plans, and brief notes about what a scene needs to do can help develop each scenes. For instance, in a story that includes as a part, a girls transformation from self-conscious to self-confident, a scene might be needed in which she (after a long process in other scenes) comes to view herself as worthy of attention from the man in whom she has found interest. The scene plan for that might be as simply as this:

What: Ginger decides she will let Karl make the first move and not act desperate for his acceptance. 
How: Brief conversation with Stephanie

And the scene that accomplishes that could be as simple as this:

Stephanie and Ginger sat in the parlor as the last of the afternoon rays angled through the sheer lace curtains. Ginger had made it clear, at last, how interested she was in Karl and had shared some of her wishes and hopes with her best friend. The iced tea was gone, and only the drops of condensation on the outside of the glass remained. 
"Look, Ginger…" Stephanie turned to her friend and smiled. "If you are sure about this, you should tell him how you feel." 
Ginger lifted her eyes and looked back at Stephanie. She took a deep breath and settled back into her chair. "No. He should tell me how he feels."
The plan guides the scene. Once the needs of the scene are met, the writer can move on to other aspects of the scene or move on to another scene that needs to do something else.

Scene plans can be complex in relations to plot arcs and character arcs. But since they are guided by the overall writing plan, not every needed objective of the scene needs to be detailed in a scene plan. It is a good idea, though to, whether written down or understood from the bigger picture, go into a scene with specific accomplishments in mind. The opening scene in a section might need to do a host of things, such as:

  • Establish that two days have passed.
  • Geoff is upset and confused by his boss's decision.
  • Geoff decides to take some time off and get his head straight.
  • However, he finds out that Ralph has obligated him to escort Ralph's sister to the art gallery opening, where he fears running into Candice, Geoff's ex-girlfriend
So, the actual plan might say only:
Wednesday: Time off vs Ralph's sister to gallery opening
All of the rest of the things needed in the opening are guided by the previous and following scene notes, and are not written down.

The point is to, within the bigger story plan, develop enough details to serve as a rudder and to keep the writer on the right course.

With any story plan, (or scene plan) the goal is to give direction to the story. At a glance or with a scroll, writers can see how their character is changing. They can see how the world is changing. They can quickly tally up the events of the story and see if they add up to the desired reader response.

A story plan, however, can be fluid to some degree. The beginning and end may be less flexible, but, since the invention of word processing, it is very easy to go back a few pages and add a paragraph or a scene or a chapter or a section! So, if the story needs, at the 80% position, something to have happened at the 20% position, writers can go back, alter the plan, and add in the missing part.

For instance, a scene toward the end of the story might require a character to know some odd fact about…say, chemistry. If his or her knowledge of chemistry is never previously mentioned, it would be awkward for the knowledge to suddenly exist just at the right time. Going back and putting in a scene where the character is studying for an exam or tutoring a high-school student… something like that would lay the groundwork for readers believing the scene later on.

If the story is planned out well enough in advance, the need for that scene would be noticed early in the process. The moment when the story plan called for a knowledge of chemistry just before the climax, the writer could go back to an earlier part of the story plan and add the prerequisite scene on the front end.

In one of my published short stories, I wrote a scene that I meant to be the hook for a story. I showed the "hook" to a friend and he asked me how the character came to be in such a situation. I told him what I had thought of as a back-story. He said, "Wow, you should just write that and use your hook as the ending." So I did.

The whole story plan drove the main character to that paragraph. I jotted down a few benchmark points in the characters life, thought of a couple of cool scenes, and put them into the plan, then started typing. I had a weekend alone, so I started typing on Friday night. The story, given the plan, wrote itself in a single two and a half day sitting, and by the end of the weekend, even taking time for chores, church, and going to the store, it was done. I edited it for typos, and it was ready to be submitted. The plan drove the story and the finished work did exactly what I hoped it would do.

I also have drafts in my idea folder of stories I just started writing that meandered for fifty pages and did nothing. They were not journeys in any way, but only test-drives around the block and back to where they started.

Planning a poem is different, but a similar process needs to occur. The poem will lead a reader through ideas differently, but all the same, the reader is moved along. Planning each nudge and push along the way gives the poem its own rudder, and given the economy of words, keeps the course tight and straight.

There is usually a lot of time required in creating a poem or work of fiction, so making sure that it does what it sets out to do seems like a good idea. Investing time into planning on the front end can help assure that the final product accomplishes the writer's wished-for goals. However it is formulated, having a plan at the beginning of the writing process is an extremely important step toward creating an effective, finished work.

Tuesday, January 31, 2017

Stories Move

Many times, I have spoken to writers who say that they have a great idea for a story. They have shown me things or described things that were interesting, but were not actually a story.

Sometimes, I have been shown very interesting character sketches. Sometimes it is a great back-story. Other times it is a situation or setting. But none of these things, alone, create a story.

The difference between a vignette, setting description, or a character sketch and a story is fairly simple. In a story, something changes. The character's understanding of self, the character's location within the setting, the world in which the character exists, the reader's point of view or thoughts… something changes. Something moves.

No Change:
Carol looked into the mirror at her long, dark hair. She had been a blond for years, but after the tragedy, she decided it was time for a change. She picked up the blue bow her grandmother had given her and pulled up her hair, clipping the bow in place just so. She was very particular about her looks, and wanted everything to be in its place. That, too, was something she had adopted after… When Bo had died, a lot of things had changed.

While that might possibly be interesting, nothing changes. Past changes have created the presented version of Carol. But in the paragraph, we only learn how she "is" but nothing really changes.

Change:

Carol looked into the mirror at her long, dark hair, and shook her head. She had changed it to the darkest brown she could find when Bo died. His death had rocked her world, and had turned her into someone she hardly knew, but she had come to think she was no better for it. She had come to think she was worse off—obsessed with nit-picking every detail of her looks to the point that she was miserable.
She looked down at her vanity and then back at her reflection. Shaking her head, she picked up the shears, lifted a section of her hair and cut. Shoulder length will be fine… She made sure that it was a little uneven, just to make a point.

This may be no more interesting than the first example, but in it, we see Carol move. She makes a decision to act on something the reader is told she had been feeling for a while. The reader senses the movement of Carol, and the sum of all the character movements is called the character arc.

An interesting character arc can, sometimes be enough to make a story. Coupled with an interesting plot arc, can make an even better story. But to be sure, without some movement—without something in the work changing, growing, or adjusting—without movement, there is no story.

If a writer is looking to purposefully create a response in the reader, it will be accomplished through the story. As the characters and the world of the characters change, the reader will be prompted to change with them

ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY Discussion About Submitting for Publication

When I spent time around the fantasy and science fiction (F/SF) conventions as a panelist, other writers and I would sometimes, to make a point, say that you can't call yourself a writer until you have at least one rejection letter. That means you must submit your work for publication consideration. You must submit!

The Right Start


Before you can submit your manuscript, you have to have one! And you might as well make things easier on yourself by starting off the right way.

Editors and publishers expect works submitted to be a certain way. The best approach is to start with a standard manuscript format.

Google can provide links to many, many descriptions of what a standard manuscript looks like. You might be surprised. They are very boring and very uncreative. And very STANDARD.

As an editor for a family of small, on-line magazines, we received several submissions daily, each from 2,000 to 15,000 words—most hit around the 5,000 word range. When I saw a manuscript that was not like the rest, my first thought was that the submitter didn't know what they were doing. They hadn't bothered to look at our guidelines (more on that later) and, therefore, I didn't feel very excited to wade through pages and pages of 9 pt Felt Tip font.

If you want your submission to be considered carefully, you need to start off with standard manuscript format. Google it and you will find that, though there might be slight variations, they will all tend toward something like this:
Source: http://www.cs.cmu.edu/~mslee/format.html (Jan. 31, 2017)

Standard Manuscript Format

Before submitting your stories make sure they are in the standard manuscript format. This is described in many, many "How to Write" books -- and I strongly recommend that you read at least one such book. Pared down to the bare essentials, the rules are as follows....
  • Your manuscript should look as though you typed it. Neither handwritten manuscripts nor ones that use a dozen amazingly nifty fonts are likely to be well received. If you are using a word processor try to select a non-proportional font (one where every character has the same width).
  • Do not justify the text. By this I mean don't select the option from your word processor that makes every line of text end exactly at the right margin. Remember, you want your manuscript to look as though you typed it, even if you are printing it on the world's most expensive laserwriter.
  • Use high quality 8 1/2 x 11 inch white paper.
  • Only print on one side of the paper.
  • Do not staple the pages together.
  • Use wide margins -- at least an inch all around the text.
  • Double space the text.
  • Show new paragraphs by indenting the first line of the new paragraph by five spaces. Thus: 
  • This is the end of one paragraph.
    
         And this is the start of the next paragraph.  Note
    
    that the text is double-spaced, and non-justified. 
  • The top of the first page: Put your name, address, and telephone number at the top left of the first page. Put the word count to the nearest 100 words at the top right of the first page. Something like this:
    Jane Smith                                  3200 words
    123 Home Lane
    Writers' Ville PA 15206
    
  • The rest of the first page: The story's title and your name should appear a little less than halfway down the first page. Then leave a couple of blank lines, and start the story. The title and your name should be centered:
                       GREAT STORY
    
                           by
    
                       Jane Smith
    
  • Put the page number, your surname, and a keyword or two from the title on the top right of every page after the first one. Something like this:
                                    Smith/Great Story/20
    
  • To show a scene break, leave a blank line, then have a line with a single asterix centered in the middle, then have another blank line. Thus:
    With a whimper, Bob died.
    
                          *
    
         It was a dark and stormy night, very dark, very
    
  • Do not use italics. To show text that should be italicized in the final published version of the story, underline that section of text.
  • At the end of your story, leave a couple of blank lines, then write "THE END" or "###" centered on a line.
  • And that's all there is to it.

And that's all there is to it. Simple, and ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY!

Once your manuscript is created in standard format, you must then be ready to adapt it as required by whatever place (market) you are trying to submit. You must, must, must, must, must read and follow the guidelines with regard to any changes to standard form.

The magazines published by the company I ran clearly listed a couple of departures from standard form. They were expected because it allowed us to more easily prepare them for publication. We burdened our submitters to do a little work.

Many people freak out about the font. Okay, so do you have a computer? Just type it in whatever font you want. When you are ready to submit, if the market does not specify anything otherwise, do select-all and change the font to Courier 12pt. Done.

The italics rule could cost you some time, but if you are a wiz at Word® or other word processors, you can probably do a global search/replace (I think) to change italic to underline. Better you just underline to start off with.

The take-away from this section is simple: Start with standard format, and if an editor/publisher asks for deviations in their published guidelines, be ready to make the changes. Unless there are clear calls for changes, assume that they want the standard format.

The Right Place


An editor from a major publishing company once, at a convention, said writers should NOT say their work isn't like anything else out there. He said that meant there was no shelf at the bookstore for it.

With the ever-expanding range of electronic markets, there are a lot of shelves out there! The ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY thing is this: make sure you submit your work to the right place!

Back to those guidelines! Almost every publication I have considered as a place I would submit clearly outlined the types of work they wanted to see. If you submit something to the wrong place, you are wasting the editors' time and you might be tying up a manuscript that could be submitted to a proper market for as long as it takes for the editors to reject it.

Make sure you read the submission guidelines completely. Every word. Future articles will discuss some of the things to look for, but if you don't completely read the guidelines, you very well could miss things.

For example, some markets clearly specify word-count expectations. Follow them! Don't submit a 6000 word short story to a market that wants works in the 2500-5000 word range.

Likewise, if they call for mysteries and thrillers, don't submit fantasy. This seems like a very simple concept, but my experience reading submissions suggest that not all writers pay attention to this.

Another thing to look for is who their audience is. If they publish Y/A then make sure your work fits. If their guidelines calls for works to conform to some religious or moral standard, be sure yours fits. The key is to read all of the guidelines and make sure you follow them.

While there are a lot of "shelves out there" in this era, there are also a lot of writers, too. In order to give your work the best chance of being accepted, you need to make sure you understand the expectations of the market to which you are submitting, and make sure your manuscript (properly formatted) fits them.


Friday, January 27, 2017

Planning Desired Reader Response

In the seminal book, Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, Stephen Covey offers the advice to begin with the end in mind. I am inclined to recommend this advice to anyone attempting to create any kind of expressive art. Writers of stories, poems, and songs need to embrace this principle and hold on tight!

Over they years that I have written, I have talked to many, many beginning writers. Far too often, they tell me that they have started lots of "books" but have never finished one. Others would say something like "I had a really good idea and wrote and wrote and then somewhere along the way, it just wasn't going anywhere, so I gave up on it."

For several years, I participated as a panelist at numerous fantasy and science fiction conventions. Usually, I sat on panels designed to encourage writers wanting to improve their art. Over and over, I would face questions that related to how to actually finish a story or book.

Looking at my own writing efforts… Well, I have a folder of drafts that I started, but on which I gave up because they weren't going anywhere.

And that is the point of the article. Begin with an end in mind. Before the first words are typed onto the page… Okay, a little grace—sometimes writers get that sudden inspiration for a hook or a character or opening scene that just must be put done on the page immediately! So, let's say that at the beginning of any writing project, it is utterly important to know where a work is going.

I have found that some people deride the idea of a morale to the story and balk at the idea that a work must have a theme. I would argue that, without something driving the story (or poem or song), it is going to end up vapid and empty. Without a point, it will be… well, pointless.

I have had the chance on a few occasions to be a sounding board for song-writers. I found a way of putting this point across to them by asking this: When your work is complete, how do you want the people who experience your work to respond? How do you want them to change? How will your work make them think differently? Feel differently?

Distilling my ideas on this, I would like to suggest that, in creating expressive art of any kind, the creator—making this specific for fiction and poetry—when writing a story or poem, the writer needs to think about how they want their reader to respond to the work as a whole, and to each part of the work along the way. Clearly understanding the desired reader response will guide the entire writing process.

The desired reader response becomes the end that writers keep in mind throughout the writing process. It can be simple. It can be complex. But the reader response drives what is written, and it appears in different forms.

In an essay, the desired reader response is bundled with the thesis. The essay writer might think along these lines: "I want people who read my essay to change how they think about soil conservation such that they understand the negative impact of stream channelization."

In fiction and poetry, the desired reader response is located in morales and themes. In a poem, the poet might think, "I want the reader to feel the pain and agony of loneliness." In a work of fiction, the writer might wish the reader to see examples of what happens when injustice is unopposed.

However, as much as the previous few paragraphs have cast this idea into the realm of "morale of the story" or theme, desired reader response can be far less lofty. "I want my reader to laugh" could be the end goal—the desired reader response—of a story or poem. The main principle is that a writer knows what he or she wants the words to accomplish.

Once the desired reader response for the whole work is set, it thereafter guides the whole writing process. Nothing in the final work needs to be there unless it contributes to the overarching desired reader response.

Indeed, a work might take on a life of its own, and in the process of being created, add to or modify the desired reader response that the author began with. When this happens—and it does—the author needs to embrace the change, then go back in edits and rewrites to make sure that the final work lines up with the amendments.

Knowing the desired reader response carries through to each part of the work. Verses of a poem need to move the reader through a process until the end goal is reached. Parts of a book, chapters of a part, scenes in a chapter, paragraphs in a scene, and sentences in a paragraph—everything in a story needs to be written to do something, and the sum of all the somethings needs to create the desired reader response.

This level of intentionality seems extreme, but when you look at a work of fiction, there are a lot of things going on. The desired reader response comes from the sum of plot and character development. As the action moves and as the characters interact with each other and the world in which the story takes place, the reader gradually is led to the desired reader response.

Any paragraph in a story might serve a myriad of purposes. A few days ago, I wrote a couple of paragraphs that introduced a scene. Here are the desired reader responses for those paragraphs:

  • Remember a romantic conflict between two of the "coming of age" characters in the story.
  • Remember that the battle from a few days before had been really hard.
  • Remember that the point of view character had a special skill that he was trying to learn to master.
  • Become interested in the meeting that the point of view character was called to.
  • Share the point of view character's frustration that the meeting was interfering with him working out the romantic conflict.
  • Develop an expectation that the meeting was unusual, urgent, and important.
In the two paragraphs, I used five sentences. Overarching the six bullet points above where broader desired reader responses associated with watching the "coming of age" sub-plot unfold and seeing the hard consequences of injustice main-plot explored. Above the plot, the general desired reader response to the story is that they will come to understand that, when facing injustice or tyranny, it is vital to do what is right, not what is easy.

The guiding light for the story is reduced to less than the length of a tweet, but it drives the desired reader response throughout the work. In doing this, the story will either lead readers eventually to see an example of what happens when people do what is right or to see an example of what happens with they don't. Either case is driven by the desired reader response.

Thus, to begin with the end in mind—knowing the desired reader response—guide the entire creative process and allows a writer or poet to justify what they are doing with characters and plot. Rather than letting the words roam around on the page, knowing what the work is trying to accomplish gives direction to them, and ultimately gives them power to change, in some way, those who read them.



Why Another Writing Blog

Before The Page
Does the Internet really need another blog site about writing? If finding a name for this blog is an indication, the answer is clearly "no."

Nevertheless…

Before the Page come to life to fill the need of a high school writing club that I sponsor. Here, I will collect ideas and practices that I have picked up over the years that I have been writing. As members of the club investigate writing, their findings will, likewise, have a home. Where I can enlist others who participate in the sometimes-challenging process of writing to contribute, those thoughts, too, will be shared.

As the life of the writing club goes on, the content here will grow. Within the club, the goal is to help young writers not only learn how to say what they have to say, but also deepen their insight into what it is they wish to say. Thus, the club is designed to hone their skills and techniques while, at the same time, nurture the ideas that drive them to write.

The blog, though, is not exclusively for the club members. The content will be useful to anyone developing their own expressive art.

Everyone is, therefore, invited to join the fun! Before the page receives the first stroke of a pen and long before it appears before the first reader, there are many, many, considerations every writer must address. Dig into Before the Page and see if it offers some thought and guidance along the way.