These are some more tips from romantic travel writer Janice MacDonald’s on First Chapters.
Don’t sweat it initially, it will change.
When you’re ready to return to it, consider the following:
start as close to the end without leaving out important information
open with action
quickly establish: who, what, where, when and why
These are some additional tips on writing first — and the rest of the chapters, Janice MacDonald received from one of her editors:
Write your opening so it’s a grabber: in the middle of some dramatic moment such as an argument, the discovery of a dead body, and so forth.
Think about starting your novel with a question. It should be a question that will interest the reader enough that he or she will keep reading to find out the answer.
Make your book look reader-friendly by breaking up long paragraphs into shorter ones and varying the length of paragraphs and dialog. Create white-space on the page.
Let your characters and plotline shine by limiting description and exposition to telling details that provide just enough information.
Once you hook your reader, work hard to maintain interest by controlling pacing. Pacing starts with the very first word of your book and it doesn’t end until the last word.
Variety is the spice of life [editor's note: Not my cliché]. Non-stop action becomes as numbing as action-free talking-heads. A book that’s all dialogue or all introspection, sex or anything else risks turning off the reader who’s there for story. Mix it up.
Follow a dramatic scene with a calmer one, a breather for both the characters and the reader.
Alternate dialogue that moves the plot forward with point-of-view passages that deepen the reader’s understanding of the characters and theme.
Chapter endings are a key element of pacing. Try to leave some tension by not wrapping up everything for the character or the plot complication. You want your chapter endings to urge the reader on the the next chapter. [Editor's note: As they say in show business, always leave them wanting more.]
Some of this may seem repetitive, but I’ve found through the years that sometimes hearing the same information in a different way makes it all suddenly make sense.
The essential elements of a marketable novel author Janice MacDonald teaches in her writing course are:
Hook
Sense of place
Interesting characters
Compelling dialogue (she’s English)
Strong storyline (one with a logical pattern)
Appropriate pacing
Distinctive voice
Particular point of view
Slowly revealed secret or answer (the presentation of information)
Ms. MacDonald refers to these as the “Furnishings.” She’s speaking of the traditional novel or genre novel. If you’re looking to be the next James Joyce, then I’m afraid your on your own. I guess because I’m a frustrated interior designer and rarely leave furniture in one spot for more than a year, I visualizing the elements of selling fiction as furnishings for the structure that’s my novel. It somehow makes them less intimidating.
Defining the Fiction Writing Furnishings
The Hook or Theme of the Novel
To quote Ms. MacDonald,“The hook is what gives readers clues as to what the story is about, whose story it is…”Is this a journey of profound universal human need, such as love or fear of loneliness? What happened? The theme is the duct tape holding all the elements together into a cohesive human story. Ideally, the theme is a universal one appealing to a wide readership. There’s often a secret or question to be revealed and a puzzle or dilemma to be solved.
There needs to be a rational progression and development; one event must lead to the next with an ever-increasing sense of urgency or tension. Overall, the story structure must lead to an overall theme or objective in which, in the end, the total picture is revealed (but not all in the last few pages and pulled out of a hat like a magician’s rabbit). For the conclusion to satisfy, it needs to be consistent with the reader’s expectations.
And finally, the story must match the intended audience and genre.
Sense of Place
The atmosphere and location must match the mood and genre of the novel. In some situations, the place is almost a character in the story. For example, the isolated hotel in The Shining or the Thames in Three Men in a Boat. But the story needs to be anchored in a location that feels real to the reader.
Characters
It’s the characters responses to an event that drives the plot and the conflict, not the other way around. It should feel the same as real life. Something happens and we do something in response to whatever happens which causes something else to happen.
For example, Sam wakes up late because the alarm didn’t go off which makes him angry (which tells something about Sam’s character — he’s angry, not fearful or accepting). His response is to slam things including the medicine cabinet door which causes the glass to break and cut his foot. His response doesn’t change, he becomes angrier and more reckless in his haste to get to work which leads to his rear-ending an unmarked police car and so and so on. If Sam were to wake up late because the alarm didn’t go off and take a deep breath, repeat a relaxation mantra for a count of ten and then call his office to let them know he’s on his way, we see him as a completely different character.
Characterization is the result of what a character thinks, feels, says and most importantly does.
Characterization is also presented by what others think, feel or say about another character.
Every major character should have a past, or backstory, that has shaped him/her into the person he/she is — however, while you need to know the characters complete backstory, you don’t need to tell your reader everything. The reader only needs to know the backstory that directly relates to the present storyline.
The best plot conflicts come from specific, opposing, internal facets of two well-drawn characters that put them in conflict, often a difference in values or beliefs, instead of artificial plot constructs that force the protagonist and antagonist to take opposing sides.
Readers care about well-developed characters with whom they relate or find compelling. A large goal or life-threatening circumstance does not guarantee reader interest.
Know the goals of your characters, especially your protagonist and antagonist. What are the specific, concrete situation or object do they each need? What events and actions are keeping them from getting to their goal? They must be willing to sacrifice, possibly everything, to reach their goals. Unfortunately, there goals will appear to them to be mutually exclusive.
Plot tension is created as struggle between the protagonist and the antagonist (which could even be something like the weather as in The Perfect Storm) increases in stakes and consequences with each choice made and action taken by the protagonist that’s met by the antagonist. Eventually, the conflict reaches a breaking point or climax.
Plot your story so that at each major turning point, where the protagonist makes a critical decision or choice, something happens to raise the stakes, giving your primary characters more to lose, even when they appear to win.
The protagonist goal should be sympathetic and convincing enough to create a desire on the reader’s part to see the protagonist achieve his/her goal.
Tips on Compelling Dialog
In a 2 character scene, it’s unnecessary to attribute every line of dialog to identify the speaker. Indicate the speaker every 6 plus lines and do so sometimes by a characters action during the conversation.
Keep in mind Elmore Leonard’s Rule #3 in his 10 Rules for Writing: “Never use a verb other than ’said’ to carry dialogue.”As Leonard explains, “The line of dialog belongs to the character. The verb is the writing sticking his nose in.”
And Rule #3 is immediately followed by Rule #4: “Never use an adverb to modify the verb ’said,’ he admonished, gravely. To use an adverb in this way (or almost any way) is a mortal sin.”
While I’m not quite as adamant as Mr. Leonard about the adverb, I’ll point out that using an adverb to modify an attribute is telling the reader the characterization instead of showing it. It’s lazy writing. Ideally, the dialog itself or the character’s actions should convey the underlying emotional intent.
Use too little dialog and the story loses its immediacy. Dark, grey pages of long paragraphs indicate your doing more telling than showing, more talk than action.
Use too much dialog and the story may lose its connection for the reader. It’s like listening to a movie without the images to clarify place, tone and character nuance (you need those Cary Grant double-takes or the scenes aren’t that funny). And in print, you don’t even have the soundtrack to help you figure out the emotional tone of a scene!
Try to make each character sound different. Use dialog to develop & distinguish characters. Word choice and sentence length convey character. “Who ya want?” and “To whom do you wish to speak?” create completely different images in our imaginations.
Good dialog should sound natural (for the character).
Avoid excessive dialect, stereotypes, heavy accents. And uh, like, uhm, this, like, includes uhm, interjections, you know? Think of them as seasons in the kitchen — just a dash is enough.
Read your dialog aloud. You may even want to record it and listen to it. Does it sound natural? Does each character have their own voice?
Strong storyline (one with a logical pattern)
The plot is basically a series of incidents, resulting from the characters’ responses to an event in their efforts to achieve a desire or goal, that enable your characters to work through the challenges they face.
Each scene needs a purpose that propels both the internal and external story.
Janice MacDonald’s suggested techniques for developing your storyline:
Storyboarding — escalating tension moving towards turning points. (Check out my free storyboard templates in PDF format in the post Fiction Writing Plot Development)
Break the story into scenes. One formula is: a 100,000 word book = 20 chapters at about 5,000 words per chapter divided into 3 scenes per chapter.
Create a list of twenty ideas for scenes and plot developments. The first 3-4 come easily and the next 5-6 may spur ideas for other scenes.
Try brainstorming.
Ask why?
Ask what if?
Create a storyline (story arc)
Write a synopis which becomes your selling tool as well as your working guideline.
Appropriate pacing
The pace of the scene should match the action and purpose of the scene. Longer, compound, complex sentences create a slower pace. Short, simple sentences are snappy and quick. Narrative description usually slows the pace. Dialog usually quickens it. When things are moving slower, paragraphs and sentences can be longer. When things are happening quickly, there should be a lot of white space on the page because of short, sharp paragraphs or dialog.
The book itself should have an overall pace (part of its voice) but contain a mix of faster and slower scenes.
Distinctive voice
Write using an appropriate yet unique voice for the narrative. What do we hate most about majority of text books (aside from being forced to read them and then tested on what we read)? Why do we find them so boring? Because they don’t have a distinctive voice. They’re all written in that bland, generic, corporate voice. It’s why so many of us fall asleep reading them. It’s like listen to someone drone on and on in a monotone.
…the question of voice and of who is telling the story (should the narrator be first or third person, close or omniscient?) when in fact the truly problematic question is: Who is listening? On what occasion is the the story being told, and why?
If you’re having trouble finding your distinctive voice for a story, try telling it to someone else (my cat is a good listener).
Or try writing it as it were telling it in a letter (e-mail) to your best friend.
Another technique for finding your voice is to write a rough draft or synopsis in first person. It will often let you see the natural tone of the story.
Be sure that the voice uses the right tone for the story. Imagine Titanic filled with pratfalls and site gags. Now try to imagine Elmore Leonard writing War and Peace or Tolstoy writing Get Shorty. Just reading a few chapters of each of those will give you a could understanding of a distinctive voice!
where the narrator stands in relation to the characters: as an unseen eyewitness acting as objective reporter; as a sort of divine know-it-all, able to read the thoughts and feelings of the characters; or as another character in the story.
A single view point is easiest to handle, but multiple points of view can build tension and suspense. If using multiple viewpoints, its best to keep a single view point throughout the scene.
Frey also states:
To select the proper viewpoint, ask yourself not “what viewpoint?” but rather, “who can tell this story the best? the viewpoint you choose reflects the narrative voice and it is the narrative voice and not the viewpoint per se that is crucial.”
Slowly revealed the secret or answer (the presentation of information)
Basically, this means critical information about the character or to the plot should be doled out in small portions. Huge chunks of undigestible information and background choke your storyline dead.
If you’ve ever read a story and found yourself saying, “Of course! I remember someone mentioning that way back in the beginning of the story.” then the author slipped the critical information in correctly. On the other hand, if you’ve found yourself at the end of novel ranting, “Wait a minute. Where did this come from? No one’s mentioned anything about this before!”, the author dropped the ball.
One the masters of slipping all the critical information painless to the reader is fantasy satirist Terry Prachett (Terry Pratchett’s titles). (He’s also a master of distinctive voice and multiple viewpoints.) In his title, Men at Arms, Pratchett has a poignant scene where one of his protagonist, Vimes, returns to his old neighborhood to gather evidence from a home where an old woman and a baby have died. His remembrances of his childhood and his game of hopscotch appear to be nothing more than a bit of narrative description and characterization leading up to the coffins of the dead being carried to burial. But, in fact, Pratchett uses this small scene to show us Vimes underlying character and motivation, innocuously explore a very deep theme, provide motivation for Vimes next move — and slip in the critical piece of information needed for the climax. And he still manages to include some humor. Not bad for what appears to be a small break scene.
John Truby’s screenwriting courses and software have are a staple of screenwriting classes worldwide. His book,The Anatomy of Story: 22 Steps to Becoming a Master Storyteller, presents his “Twenty-Two Building Blocks” plot structure is a classic. I purchased one of his first video writing courses mumblety-mumblety years ago when I was writing comedy and spent a lot of time in L.A. Truby combines the mythic story structure of Joseph Campbell (used for such blockbusters as “Star Wars”) with some original expansion to create his twenty-two building blocks. The overall structure is loosely follows the three-act format.
A key concept of Truby’s technique is that plot is what the Character does while the Character is defined by his actions. Essentially, the plotline is the result of the Hero’s (Protagonist’s) actions movtivated by his internal need and an external desire or goal. It’s the classic story structure and in his works, Truby applies his structure to a number of successful classic films (keep in mind Truby has always focused on screenwriting, however, his techniques are the same ones used by blockbuster and enduring novelist as well).
Why doesn’t he call it “resolution” or “ending?” Hey, this is Hollywood! You have to be ready to write the sequel.
Since you can pick up Truby’s book at most libraries (or order it through here and help me pay my server bills: The Anatomy of Story: 22 Steps to Becoming a Master Storyteller), I won’t try to give the entire class explanation of the building blocks. His analysis and breakdown of various movies is well worth the read, even if you are writing genre or traditional storylines. And he offers classes, workshops, videos and DVDs on particular genres to make the examples specific to the context.
The plan was to spend January completing the first draft of a memoir and then going back to work on the NaNoWriMo novel revisions. That was the plan.
I did, however, get to work tangentially on writing. A friend asked me to be a beta reader on the first draft of her first novel. She’s published some short things but this was her first complete, 90K word novel. I was honored.
Unfortunately, it’s in a genre I don’t often read outside of a small, narrow group of authors. So this required some research. I firmly believe that you have review things in context. Each genre or category has certain unique needs beyond the basics of good writing. Seriously, would you complain that “King Lear” didn’t have enough jokes? Or that there wasn’t enough romance in Carrie?
So in the course of a couple of weeks I re-read a half dozen titles that were successful financially and I considered some of the best of the genre as well as alternating between skimming and scanning about a dozen that were typical. I even plowed through as much as I could stand of the book that had sent me fleeing that genre’s aisle many years ago. (It didn’t get better with age — its or mine.)
I spent the better part of an hour randomly opening paperbacks from the rack at the grocery store. After the first six, I was about to write to my friend apologizing that I was totally unsuited to critique her book because I simply could not read more than a few paragraphs of the standard titles in her genre, when I picked up one last title, opened it at random — and found a delightful bit of good writing. I’m at the library right now, where I found the first of the author’s titles to check out and try. (Sorry, but unless a title or author is recommended by someone I completely trust or has multiple reviews that make it compelling, I always try new authors via the library first. This way I can keep affording to buy new releases, including hard copies, by the good authors.)
The point of all of this, is that I’ve spent the better part of the two months reading as a writer instead of a reader. When I read like a writer, I focus on things like the structure of the plot, how the characterization is handled, the development of tone and style. There are many times I’ve read something as a reader, completely lost in the story and characters, swept along by the pros; and then, I read the story again, this time as a writer noting how the author managed to capture me.
Some writers can write a plot that’s intrigues so completely, I ignore the less than perfect prose (My “potato chip” read are mysteries). Others create characters that are such lively, fascinating companions, I myopically overlook plot holes — until I fall in one. Then there are writers who voices are so witty and charming, I’m completely seduced and awake to find a note on my beside table and my wallet emptied. And finally, there are the writers whose prose is so beautiful and graceful, I feel as if my own efforts resemble the first steps of a gawky teenager amongst the corps de ballet.
Periodically, when I feel I need a refresher course in how to read as a writer, I pull out my copy of Francine Prose’s Reading Like A Writer: A Guide for People Who Love Books and For Those Who Want To Write Them. While Ms. Prose (Isn’t that a wonderful name for a writer? I wonder if it’s too late to have mine legally changed?) targets the future M.F.A. candidate and completely eschews anything so plebian as “genre” authors, she does teach me how to read, both my own work and others, critically. And by “critically,” I mean objectively with a discerning eye and ear.
Here’s how she opens her book:
Can creative writing be taught?
…I answer by recalling my own valuable experience, not as a teacher but as a student in one of the few fiction workshops I took… Its generous teacher showed me, among other things, how to line edit my work. For any writer, the ability to look at a sentence and see what’s superfluous, what can be altered, revised, expanded, and, especially, cut, is essential. It’s satisfying to see that sentence shrink, snap into place, and ultimately emerge in a more polished form: clear, economical and sharp.
Here’s an example from her chapter on “Narration”:
… this device enabled me to overcome one of the obstacles confronting the novice writer. This hurdle disguises itself as the question of voice and of who is telling the story (should the narrator be first or third person, close or omniscient?) when in fact the truly problematic question is: Who is listening? On what occasion is the story being told, and why? Is the protagonist projecting this heartfelt confession out into the ozone, and, if so, what is the proper tone to assume when the ozone is one’s audience?
I had always assumed that I was alone in having discerned that the identity of the listener was a more vexing problem than the voice of the storyteller until I heard a writer say that what enabled him to write a novel from the point of view of a rather complicated middle-aged woman was by pretending that she was telling her story to close male friend, and that he, the writer, was that friend.
Ms. Prose goes on to examine and dissect successful examples of narration ranging from Wuthering Heights to Anna Karenina, from Philip Carver to Isabel Walker to Mark Twain to Diane Johnson (Le Divorce, a book alas I didn’t finish because I was simply in the wrong mood. My mood is something else I have to keep in mind when critiquing my own or someone else’s work). I got more out of one trip through Reading Like A Writer than I did from an entire semester of writing class. If nothing else, I learned how a master writes a compound, complex sentence.
After a couple of months of reading like a writer, I’m ready to start writing for myself again. I’m encouraged by how badly some published authors write, humbled by how well some do and greatly inspired by the realization that I can improve my own initial drafts by applying some firm, disciplined manuscript critique.
While taking a workshop with author Janice MacDonald on developing a traditional fiction story plot (the kind with a beginning, middle and end), I decided to modify one of the templates that came with my Pages program into a set of worksheets. These worksheets can help you outline your fiction plot and determine the story structure.
The first two are blank worksheets. You can copy them, fill them in, cut them up, move things around. Use them as you wish. There’s at the top for the name of novel or chapter and for defining the genre and the characters involve or whatever works for you. You may want to read some of the other posts on various ways to approach plot and motivation. You can then work with the blank storyboards in developing the internal and external events.
Novel Storyboard Worksheet PDF Chapter Storyboard Worksheet PDF
The thirds worksheet is my own creation from the various things I’ve learned about the traditional story structure. I want to give a big thanks to Janice MacDonald who clarified a create deal with her own plot grid. It’s the basis for my small variations.
While the storyboard is designed for the typical 20-chapter genre novel, simply expand the number of chapters between the Plot Points and the Crisis to meet your needs. The last page of the storyboard contains with a basic summary of a traditional novel plot structure as well as 10 Question For Developing Your Plot which help you determine the internal motivation and well as the strongest conflicts confronting your primary character or protagonists. (Actually, if you can answer these questions for your secondary characters, you have an even stronger plot.)
I’d scene dozens of variations on these (and I’ll be posting at least 3) through the years as I read writing books and went to classes and workshops to avoid facing the muddle that was my middle, but somehow Janice MacDonald’s version clicked. I then joined NaNoWriMo in 2007 followed by a friend asking me to review her first draft. At that point, the mist parted and I decided to compile my notes into a storyboard format à la Apple Pages template. My template can be found here: Fiction Writing Plot Development Storyboard.
The basic structure is as follows:
Chapter 1: We view the normal world of our protagonist
Chapter 2: An Inciting Incident occurs forcing the protagonist from his/her/its normal world
Chapter 3: The important Secondary characters are introduced and the tone and style are fully established
Chapter 4: The protagonist must make a life-changing (although he/she/it might not know it at the time) decision or choice
Chapter 5: The protagonist’s journey begins because of the decision or choice made. This is the 1st Plot Point.
Chapters 6—9: Complications and obstacles occur as the journey begins and continues.
Chapter 10: A crisis forces the protagonist to make another decision or choice that forces the story into a new direction. This is the Mid-Point.
Chapters 11—14: The obstacles and complications become more complex.
Chapter 15: New events derived from the increased complexities for a new choice or decision on the protagonist. This is Plot Point 2.
Chapter 16: The new decision or choice makes the situation appear bleak.
Chapter 17: The situation worsens.
Chapter 18: The situation appears hopeless; this is the darkest moment.
Chapter 19: The resolution where the character learns a life lesson and is changed.
Chapter 20: The wrap-up where the reader sees the evidence of the change in the protagonist.
The actual number of chapters is not carved in stone, but the overall technique works. Take a look at The Lord of the Rings.
Initially, we are introduced to Frodo, Bilbo, Gandalf and the world of the hobbits. Frodo is essentially happy and wishes for everything to remain static. He especially wishes his relative Bilbo wouldn’t go away, but Bilbo does go leaving everything, including his magic ring, to Frodo. This the Normal World. Gandalf warns that the ring should be kept a secret and not used because he suspects it has more powers than Bilbo knew about. (While it initially appears that Bilbo’s disappearance and Frodo’s inheritance is the Inciting Incident, it isn’t. Read on.)
Next, we learn of Frodo’s small problems with people trying to get ahold of his fortune, petty jealousies of his neighbors, meet more of Sam and discover that Frodo is yearning for travel and adventure. This is Frodo’s desire or goal at the beginning of plot; emulating Bilbo by going on a trip beyond the Shire and meeting different species and having a bit of adventure. Gandalf returns to confirm that Frodo has inherited the Ring of Power, the most powerful and magical ring ever. And then the evil Sauron becomes aware of the ring’s location and sends his agents to retrieve it. This is the Inciting Incident that forces Frodo from his normal world.
Frodo sets out to take the ring to the Elves accompanied by Sam, and then collecting Merry and Pippin in passing. On route they meet Aragorn, Frodo’s wounded in an attack by the Ringwraiths and barely makes it to the Elf stronghold of Rivendell. Note we have met 5-6 (depending upon your count) of the most important secondary characters. He recovers to find himself in the middle of a quarrel among the counsel assembled to decide the fate of the Ring, and hence, the world. Since none of the other beings trusts anyone else to take the Ring, Frodo volunteers to take it to Mordor to be destroyed. This is, of course, his life changing decision. And we have met the rest of the most important secondary characters, the Fellowship of the Ring.
Frodo and companions set out on their journey. We’ve reached plot point 1 in the first book.
Now I’m not going to do the entire trilogy because what Tolkien did was ingenious; each of the three books follows the traditional fiction story arc while the entire series also follows the traditional story arc overall. And in the end of the series, Frodo has learned a very hard life lesson, and is in fact dying, and his desire has changed to wanting The Shire to return to the simple, uncomplicated normal world at the start of the book. A goal that Frodo, nor we the readers, can ever achieve after his eye-opening adventures.
Try breaking down some of your favorite classics like Jane Austen or Charles Dickens or even contemporary genre authors like Elmore Leonard.
And if this method of plotting your story arc, doesn’t work for you, try one of the other techniques I’ll be posting over the next few weeks.
Just a quick note about what’s coming now that NaNoWriMo 2007 is almost finished. (Okay, so I haven’t quite finished my novel rough draft — 4 more chapters –but I broke the 50K and have a few paragraphs roughing the last 4 chapters.)
I’ve published the first of many resource and writer’s tools postings to come. I figured at least a few NaNoWriMo participants would be starting to think about agents, so I pushed through the excellent information provided by Lisa Preston. I’ve also got some excellent information on queries collected at Edmond’s Write on the Sound Conference in October. I’ll try to get that up by next week.
I have several wonderful guidelines from author Janice MacDonald on the structure of a commercial fiction plot as seen from many different angles and approaches. I’ll be working that up and posting the information throughout December.
Additionally, I’ve been developing and collecting some worksheets for various elements of a novel that might be useful in both planning and editing. And not so finally, I’m going to start a category for Washington State writer’s groups. There are a number of people in Seattle looking to form ongoing writing groups to help them get their editing done on their NaNoWriMo projects. If you have or no of a writing group in Washington state, please drop me a line or leave a comment and I’ll add them to the listing.
Author Lisa Preston (http://www.lisapreston.com), spoke to The Writing Popular Fiction class of author Janice MacDonald in September, 2007. Lisa Preston does workshops. Check out her site for more information. This are some of her excellent recommendations for researching appropriate agents to query about your novel.
There are 4 requirements for a writer to get an agent and sell their novel or memoirs:
The novel must be good enough — don’t send it out too early.
The query must be good enough — go pro.
The agent must be good enough — do your homework before you sign.
Your luck must be good enough.
Three of these requirements are under your control.
Resources for Researching Agents
Subscription sites:
(While there’s no free lunch, Cader’s Publisher’’s Lunch column is good and has tasty tidbits) mediabristro.com publishersmarketplace.com publishersweekly.com Free Resources
Library Sections: 070, 808
[source for books like Writer’s Market, Guide to Literary Agents, Herman’s Literary Marketplace]
Also read the Acknowledgments, Dedications, etc. of novels and memoirs similar to yours to find the names of potential
Google Book Search: books.google.com (search on agent’s name or word “agent”
for listings in dedications, etc.)
http://www.vistacomp.com/pub_moves/pub_moves.html:
updated on Friday every week with industry promotions & moves; catching someone who has been promoted to acquisition agent or agent from assistant can be a good break; someone moving to start a new line or at a new house will be looking to acquire new titles to make his/her own mark (Read “The Forest for the Trees” by Betsy Lerner)
Ann Crispin & Victoria Strauss Site: Writer Beware: http://accrispin.blogspot.com
(a pair of SF/Fantasy writers who posts listings about suspicious or fraudulent agents, publishers, contests, etc. A.C. Crispin started out as a Trek fan who sold to the original Star Trek novel line and parlayed that into a career).
It’s late and I’ve got tons of writing to do tomorrow to catch up on the NaNoWriMo schedule, but I had to take the time to celebrate — 27,890 words! I’m well into Chapter 9 and I know I’ll make Chapter 10 tomorrow. That’s the big plot point 2 in standard genre fiction story arcs and I know what mine is.
A lot has been going on, not the least of which was a huge storm last Monday. I’d plan to spend last Monday catching up and getting ahead on the NaNoWriMo schedule, but a storm came through and knocked out the power on Monday morning. The power came back on at dawn and I’d gone out as soon as it got light enough to check on the our little PVC-pipe greenhouse and the storage tent. Everything was fine. But the sky was very eerie; dead calm with an ominous band to the north and west with patches of clearing in the south and east. The birds were silent and the extremely tall trees across the field were no longer waggling their tops let alone bending almost double. I came in, told my husband about everything surviving the storm but that if we were back in Texas or Michigan or Florida, I’d be grabbing cats and looking for shelter, and then I started breakfast. Not more than two minutes later, my husband is running in grabbing his shoes and saying that the storage tent had blown away.
It turns out he was looking outside his window at the clouds I’d mentioned when the storage tent — and keep in mind this is a tent large enough to house a full-size truck or power boat — shot 40 feet straight up and then blew towards the west over the tree tops and then started blowing end over end towards the north. It came down in a lane between two patches of trees with it’s legs in the air like a dead dog. It was far too heavy for us to lift and carry home, so we had to dismantle it where it lay and carry the pieces home and use the sliced and diced canopy and sides to cover the stuff from inside it to protect it all from the rain and wind that had started again. Meanwhile, the power went out again and stayed out for most of the day.
I’ll have photos up later this week. As best I can tell, we had some kind of inversion with a brief moment like the eye of a hurricane.
Well, I’m off to get some sleep and then back to work. I confess I’ll be very glad when I break 30,000 words. It seems a long time coming.
, Francine Prose discusses the problem of voice with this recommendation:
(an excellent book with a wonderful chapter on viewpoints) defines as
). (He’s also a master of distinctive voice and multiple viewpoints.) In his title, 
, Pratchett has a poignant scene where one of his protagonist, Vimes, returns to his old neighborhood to gather evidence from a home where an old woman and a baby have died. His remembrances of his childhood and his game of hopscotch appear to be nothing more than a bit of narrative description and characterization leading up to the coffins of the dead being carried to burial. But, in fact, Pratchett uses this small scene to show us Vimes underlying character and motivation, innocuously explore a very deep theme, provide motivation for Vimes next move — and slip in the critical piece of information needed for the climax. And he still manages to include some humor. Not bad for what appears to be a small break scene.
, presents his “Twenty-Two Building Blocks” plot structure is a classic. I purchased one of his first video writing courses mumblety-mumblety years ago when I was writing comedy and spent a lot of time in L.A. Truby combines the mythic story structure of Joseph Campbell (used for such blockbusters as “Star Wars”) with some original expansion to create his twenty-two building blocks. The overall structure is loosely follows the three-act format.
