Thursday, June 3

The Structure of a Horror: The Setting

The Structure of a Horror: The Setting


Setting and Horror

Certain things are true for all settings. If you want a sense of claustrophobic threat then small enclosed dark spaces are the way to go: caves, basements, dungeons. I talk more about setting in How to Write a Genre Story: Setting and Character (Part 3). Here I want to concentrate on settings specific to a horror, so let's talk about isolation. 

Setting and Isolation

In a horror story, it is good if the setting isolates the protagonists. But there are different kinds of isolation. For example, isolation can be physical (a remote location) or social/psychological. 

Let’s look at a few examples.

In Cabin in the Woods (2011) the isolation is physical. College kids go off into the wild to spend a vacation together by a remote lake. 

The Others (2001). In this movie, isolation was both physical and psychological. The children and their mother were isolated because the children had an unusual medical condition that prevented the curtains from being opened, as a result the house and its occupants were kept in perpetual twilight. This established and explained the dark mood of the movie and, at least in part, was a reason (though not an excuse) for the tragedy that occurred.

The Exorcist (1973). The protagonist in The Exorcist (Chris MacNeil) was not physically isolated from the rest of the world. Here the isolation is social/psychological. Chris is isolated by her daughter, Regan's, bizarre behavior and her belief that Regan may be possessed. Chris is isolated even though she lives in a beautiful home in the midst of a busy city.

Setting and the impossibility of escape or rescue

On the topic of isolated settings, it is important to eliminate any implication that there is a possibility of escape or rescue. This is the case whether the protagonist and her allies are physically isolated or psychologically/socially isolated.

As I will discuss in the second part of this article, after the protagonist has her reality shattered and she realizes that, yes, monsters do exist, then she will either not be able to escape, or will try to escape and fail. But at some point between the midpoint and the end of the story the protagonist usually has a chance to escape. Perhaps not a very good chance, but a chance. If she doesn’t make it then she will lose everything.

I think a classic progression is that, at around the All Hope is Lost point right before Act Two closes the protagonist either tries and fails to escape, or tries and fails to kill the monster. Which brings us to the very last scene, the most intense part of the story: the Climax.

There are as many different kinds of horror movies as there are writers, but I think what their final goal is tells a lot about a character. Is it to escape (and killing the monster is an optional extra) or is it to sacrifice themselves to kill the monster so their friends and loved ones will be safe?

Of course, just because the protagonist decides to sacrifice herself doesn’t mean she will die. I know that Edge of Tomorrow isn’t a horror (it’s more action, science fiction and adventure) but in that movie the protagonist, Cage, is convinced that if he tries to take out the Big Bad that he will die regardless of whether he succeeds. But, of course (spoiler!) he lives and, to their credit, the writers make sure that ending is plausible.

Setting and Jump Scares

A jump scare is:

“...a technique often used in horror films and video games, intended to scare the audience by surprising them with an abrupt change in image or event, usually co-occurring with a loud, frightening sound.” (Wikipedia)

Jump scares are unique to the horror genre. And, although they are a bit cheesy, I think they can be done to good effect. 

It’s sometimes a good idea to throw in a ‘fake out’ scene around the time when the audience expects the first monster attack but just before that happens. This is where things are tense, we’re expecting a monster to attack but instead a black cat jumps out of the darkness, hisses at her and runs away. (Granted, it is much easier to do a jump scare on a screen than on the printed page!)

I’ve watched more than one horror movie that employed a scene like this to great effect, at least judging from my reaction. Usually it occurred right before the first violent episode of the film. It was a ‘fake out’ and then, almost before I finished laughing and feeling silly, something nasty happened to one of the characters and I wasn’t prepared. Jump scares are effective.

Have an Endearing Scene Early On

I've left the most important thing till last. In a horror story the likelihood that your protagonist is going to fail in her quest and die horribly is quite high. 

Often, the protagonist is given a mini-story in the beginning, one that reveals her true nature. This mini-story can be spread over the first 25% of the story (Act One, The Ordinary World). We, the readers, identify with and (ideally) are charmed by the protagonist as we watch how she lives her life.

In the first 10% or so of the movie the protagonist and her friends and allies often have some sort of good-natured rivalry, there is some minor conflict that lays bare the group dynamic. We find out who is crazy, who is intelligent, who has a heart of gold, who is willing to take advantage of the person with the heart of gold, and so on.

That's it for today! Thanks for reading. And, as always, good writing!

Tuesday, June 1

The Structure of a Horror: The Protagonist

The Structure of a Horror: The Protagonist


I’ve been thinking about horror stories, about what elements are common to the genre. I had intended to do this all in one post, but it has grown quite long so I’ve divided the material into a few parts. Today I’m going over how the protagonist in a horror story is different from, say, a protagonist in an action-adventure. In future posts I will write about the antagonist/monster, the setting, the stakes, and so on. Finally, I will discuss a general structure that many horror stories follow. 

The Structure of Horror Stories

One reason it took longer for me to write this post than I had anticipated was that, although I realized the structure of a horror story is a bit different from the general pattern of the hero’s journey, at first I couldn’t put my finger on where exactly the difference lay. 

In other kinds of stories it is common for the protagonist to start out in a less than ideal state, go through the crucible of the story world and come out changed for the better. Because of this growth, this transformation, the protagonist is able to best the antagonist and save the day. Or not. The protagonist can fail, but that’s the general pattern.

Horror stories are different. [1]

In the beginning of a horror story the protagonist, if I may put it this way, is as good as he’s going to get. He’s the happiest and best adjusted he is ever going to be. So this is not going to be a tale of improvement. At BEST, it will be a tale of survival. 

That is, horror stories are less about how to become a better person through character transformation than they are about surviving hell. In a horror story, you might be a half dead psychopath by the end but if you make it through alive, then it goes in the win column.

The protagonist

In a horror the protagonist--and by ‘protagonist’ I mean the main viewpoint character--is, as in any story, the one who is most active, she is the one who changes and, because of these changes, gets through all the insanity that is thrown at her. By saying that I don’t mean to imply that she will survive, only that she usually makes it to the Climax of the story.

Imbalance of Power

Something unique to horror stories is that there is an unusually large difference in power between the antagonist and protagonist, and this imbalance is present right from the very beginning. After all, if Jane is facing down the devil, it’s not like he’s going to get MORE evil as the story progresses!

Because the antagonist is so much more powerful than the protagonist, the protagonist's motivation needs to be clear, it needs to be compelling, and it needs to be readily understandable to your audience. It doesn’t matter if the protagonist’s motivation to pit herself against the monster is selfish (she doesn’t want to die) or selfless (she doesn’t want her daughter to die), but it does have to be clear and convincing.

I think this is one reason why a mother can make a wonderfully compelling protagonist in a horror movie. A writer does not have to do much to convince his audience that a mother would give her life for her child. Conversely, though--and for the same reason--a mother can make an equally powerful antagonist. 

(Spoiler Warning)
For example, in the movie Hereditary (2018) a mother ends up hurting her child. This proved to be a good way of demonstrating the power of whatever darkness had her in its thrall.

(Before I leave the topic of the protagonist, I would like to pass on a tip I received from someone whose name I unfortunately have forgotten. Give both the antagonist and protagonist as many allies as you reasonably can because you will need characters for both the antagonist and protagonist to kill.)

Notes:

1. Noir fiction may be an exception to this rule-of-thumb.

Photo:

Photo by Max Kleinen on Unsplash (As you can see, I altered this photo.)

Saturday, May 15

The Structure of Genre: Analyzing story structure by genre

The Structure of Genre: Analyzing story structure by genre


I’ve been on a journey of sorts over the past decade. I wanted to understand--intellectually, but also on a blood and bone level--the elements of a good story. Why am I unable to put one book down while another is a cure for insomnia? 

I've talked quite a lot about the structure of Story write large, but in this article I muse about the structure of genre stories.

To read more about this, here is a link to my article over on my substack: The Structure of Genre.

Saturday, May 8

Lester Dent's Short Story Structure: 3 Elements of a Great Story Opening

Lester Dent's Short Story Structure: 3 Elements of a Great Story Opening



Let’s talk about strong story openings. 

I’ve been writing a series of blog posts on Lester Dent’s Short Story Structure and realized that I had more to say about story openings than would fit in there. So!

Lester Dent on Strong Story Openings

Here’s what Dent wrote about what made a story opening strong:

“1--First line, or as near thereto as possible, introduce the hero and swat him with a fistful of trouble. Hint at a mystery, a menace or a problem to be solved--something the hero has to cope with” [1]

This, then, is Dent's advice for how to hook a reader: 

1. Put the protagonist in trouble,
2. hint at a mystery or some sort of problem that needs to be solved, and
3. make it clear that the protagonist must solve it.

That’s fine, but how does one do this in practise?

An Example

What do you think of this opening?

“I'd never given much thought to how I would die—though I'd had reason enough in the last few months—but even if I had, I would not have imagined it like this.”

That’s the first line of the prologue from Twilight, Book 1. I know you may dislike Stephenie Meyer’s books, and fair enough. They aren’t everyone’s cup of tea. But that opening clearly satisfies (1), it puts the protagonist in a LOT of trouble, so much that she feels her death is inevitable.

The prologue is a flash-forward. And, yes, a flash-forward can be tricky, but I think Meyer pulled this one off. Because of it we know what the end stakes are, we know where she is headed. And we care about her more since she would willingly die in the place of someone she cared about.

But what about Dent’s (2) and (3)?

The Opening

Here's a quick summary of the first few paragraphs of Twilight: Bella, a teenager, is going to live with her dad in a town she detests. But, of course, there’s a twist. She is going willingly. 

“My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt — sleeveless, white eyelet lace; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka.

“In the Olympic Peninsula of northwest Washington State, a small town named Forks exists under a near-constant cover of clouds. It rains on this inconsequential town more than any other place in the United States of America. It was from this town and its gloomy, omnipresent shade that my mother escaped with me when I was only a few months old. It was in this town that I'd been compelled to spend a month every summer until I was fourteen. That was the year I finally put my foot down; these past three summers, my dad, Charlie, vacationed with me in California for two weeks instead.

“It was to Forks that I now exiled myself—an action that I took with great horror. I detested Forks.” (Twilight, Stephenie Meyer)

We see the protagonist, Bella, travelling into exile to live with her father who she thinks of not as “dad” but as “Charlie.” 

Rather than her parents dragging her off to live somewhere she detests, she is going voluntarily because she loves her Mom and she realizes that she and her new husband need to be alone for a bit. She sacrifices herself. This is Dent’s (3). Only Bella can make this sacrifice.

Not only is Bella’s sacrifice unusual--one generally doesn’t expect this unselfishness from a teenager--but it is admirable. And we’re curious. Why? Why are you doing this? Sure it is admirable--but why are you doing it? I wanted to know more about this Bella person. That’s Dent’s (2). We are handed a mystery. Perhaps a smallish mystery compared to those that are introduced later, but it is enough to get us reading the next sentence. And the next, and the next (and so on).

A Challenge

I challenge you to read the first few paragraphs of one of your favorite stories. What is it about those paragraphs that made you care about the characters? Are Dent’s criteria met? Is the protagonist put in some kind of trouble? Is a mystery raised? Must the protagonist be the one to solve it?

Sometimes it also helps to note the point of view. Is the story written from the first person perspective? The second? Third? Each of these has its peculiar strengths and weaknesses. 

I will resume my Lester Dent series soon. It has been taking me longer than expected because I am  using it to write an action-adventure (at first I tried writing a cozy mystery, but Dent’s structure just wasn’t made for that). I’ll publish the next installment of the series next week.

In the meantime, have a great week! I’ll see you again next week and, as always, good writing. 😀

Notes:

1. The Lester Dent Pulp Paper Master Fiction Plot

Lester Dent's Short Story Fiction Formula: Index

Where you can find me on the web:
Twitter: @WoodwardKaren
Pinterest: @karenjwoodward
Instagram: @KarenWoodwardWriter
YouTube: The Writer's Craft

Blog posts you might like:

Tuesday, April 27

Lester Dent's Short Story Fiction Formula: The Plan

Lester Dent's Short Story Fiction Formula: The Plan

This post is part of a series on Lester Dent’s method for writing a short story. You might think: Why should I care? Well, all the short stories Dent wrote using this method sold! Now, I suspect that his sales might have had more to do with his skill as a writer than it had to do with any formula, but still!

In the next few posts I will use Lester Dent’s method to write a short story, or at least to outline one. I’ve decided to make it a murder mystery! Also, I will be incorporating some of my own understanding of what a short story is, how it’s structured. In other words, while I am going to try and stick as closely to Dent’s method as possible, there may be a bit of difference here and there.

Lester Dent's Method

Lester Dent tells us that, before we begin writing our murder mystery, we should try to make a few decisions. Namely we should:

1. Choose a murder method.
2. Decide what the villain wants, what his goal is.
3. Pick a setting.
4. Decide on the protagonist’s motivation. As Dent puts it, we must craft, "A menace which is to hang like a cloud over the hero." [1]

For those of you who are dyed in the wool pantsers--that is, those of you who do not find outlines helpful--if you want to skip this step, that’s fine. But I hope that a few pantsers will take this as a challenge. I’m sure that not everything Lester Dent recommends will be for you, but something might. 

1. The Murder Method

Lester Dent writes:

"A different murder method could be--different. Thinking of shooting, knifing, hydrocyanic, garroting, poison needles, scorpions, a few others, and writing them on paper gets them where they may suggest something. Scorpions and their poison bite? Maybe mosquitos or flies treated with deadly germs?

"If the victims are killed by ordinary methods, but found under strange and identical circumstances each time, it might serve, the reader of course not knowing until the end, that the method of murder is ordinary.

"Scribes who have their villain's victims found with butterflies, spiders or bats stamped on them could conceivably be flirting with this gag.

"Probably it won't do a lot of good to be too odd, fanciful or grotesque with murder methods.

"The different thing for the villain to be after might be something other than jewels, the stolen bank loot, the pearls, or some other old ones.

"Here, again one might get too bizarre."[1]

Here's the takeaway:

The murder method should be UNIQUE and, if we can do it without sacrificing verisimilitude, EXAGGERATED. Let’s brainstorm.

Weapon Used

Here are a few possibilities:

- A sword. Perhaps a katana.
- Sharpened icicle.
- A knife. Butchers knife, throwing knives, kitchen knife, rusty butter knife.
- A gun.
- A car.
- A heavy object. A brick, meat tenderizer (/club), candlestick, paperweight, and so on.
- Heavier objects. An aeroplane, elephant, train, bulldozer, Mack truck.
- Pills. 
- Hammer and stake.
- A notebook. (e.g., Death Note)
- A wand.
- Push off a (tall) building.
- Severe allergies, the more exotic the better.
- Poison. Arsenic, curare, and so on.   

Here are a few more: bomb, lynch, crucify, burn/incinerate, drown, asphyxiate, strangle, martial arts, curse, evil puppets, acid.

2. The Antagonist's Goal

Again, although there are, ultimately, relatively few general things folks murder for (love, money, power, and so on) the particular motivation is--or at least should be--unique to your villain.

Lester Dent describes what the villain is after as treasure. I don't know whether he's being literal or employing metaphor. Perhaps a bit of both. Whatever the villain's ultimate goal--for instance, let's say it's revenge--there's going to be a physical manifestation of that goal in the story.

For instance, in Star Wars IV, Darth Vader wanted to defeat the resistance and the physical manifestation of that desire was the destruction of the rebel's base on Yavin IV.

When I first saw Star Wars--a local theatre was showing the first two films back to back--I thought the Death Star was truly sinister. It destroyed planets! It was a roving, moon-destroying bully. That was a new spin on an old theme.

I won't list them, but google "list of treasures" for ideas.

3. A Setting

Ideally, the setting will be suggested by (a) the murder method and (b) the villain's goal. You'll want something that stands out, that captures the imagination.

Lester Dent writes:

"Unique locale? Easy. Selecting one that fits in with the murder method and the treasure--thing that villain wants--makes it simpler, and it's also nice to use a familiar one, a place where you've lived or worked. So many pulpateers don't. It sometimes saves embarrassment to know nearly as much about the locale as the editor, or enough to fool him."[1]

If Lester Dent were alive today I think he'd say: Google Maps Street View is your friend. 

On an unrelated note, love that name, "pulpateer". 

4. The Hero's Motivation

Dent doesn't write much about this point except to say that it is "a menace which is to hang like a cloud over the hero".

If you’re wondering how to picture motivation, here’s what I do. Imagine a rowboat heading toward a small desert island. Chasing the boat is a big, vicious shark. The shark is snarling (I’m not sure sharks can snarl, but let’s just say it is ;) and a bite sized chunk has been taken out of the rowboat. It’s not going to be able to stay afloat much longer. The shark is the rower’s motivation and the island--specifically, reaching the island--is the rower’s goal.

Stakes

Generally a character's motivation is linked to the stakes present in the situation.

In the above situation, what are the stakes? What will the rower gain if she achieves her goal--if she gains the island? What will the rower lose if she doesn't? 

Failure: The shark reaches the rowboat and flips it over. The rower dies.
Success: The rower gains the island and lives.

Getting Specific

Okay, so, we’ve gotten an overview, we know the rough outlines of what ideas Lester Dent advises we work out before we sit down to write. I’ve promised that I would create an outline for a story as we go along, but I don’t want to post it here because I doubt everyone would be interested. 

If you would like to see how I set up the hero’s motivation, and so on, I’ve put the document up on my Google Drive. Here’s the link if you’d like to take a look:

Outline of my cozy murder mystery.

Summary 

Whew! We're through the preliminaries. We now know what the murder method is, what the villain's goal is, we know the setting and we understand the stakes. (By the way, Dent says that you really only have to know two or three of the above points before you start writing. Even if you know one of them you're ahead of the game.)

Next time I'll talk about the actual writing. Dent broke a 6,000 word story into four equal parts. Next time we'll look at the first quarter and discuss the opening line and how we, in Dent's words, need to "swat him [the hero] with a fistful of trouble."

Notes:

Lester Dent's Short Story Fiction Formula: Index

Where you can find me on the web:
Twitter: @WoodwardKaren
Pinterest: @karenjwoodward
Instagram: @KarenWoodwardWriter
YouTube: The Writer's Craft

Blog posts you might like:

Thursday, April 22

Lester Dent's Short Story Fiction Formula: Introduction

Lester Dent's Short Story Fiction Formula: Introduction


In previous posts I’ve written about Lester Dent’s short story formula.

Lester Dent was perhaps the best of the pulp-fiction writers of the 1930s and 1940s. He created the hugely popular character of Doc Savage--a scientist and adventurer--and featured him in 159 novels over the span of only 16 years, averaging about 10 novels per year! Wow.

I don’t know anyone who has matched that output. It is a shame that the novels--I believe all 159 of them--weren’t published under his own name. The publishing house he worked for, Street & Smith, published them under the name Kenneth Robeson.

Given his incredible output it isn’t surprising that Dent had a certain pattern, a certain formula, he followed. 

Lester Dent: The Formula

Lester Dent writes:

"This is a formula, a master plot, for any 6000 word pulp story. It has worked on adventure, detective, western and war-air. It tells exactly where to put everything. It shows definitely just what must happen in each successive thousand words.

"No yarn of mine written to the formula has yet failed to sell."[1]

A note on writing formulas: The unreflective use of a formula tends to create unconvincing stories. But, naturally, one needn't use a formula unreflectively. After all, the challenge to write a story in, say, 280 characters or less is a kind of formula, but limitations often encourage creativity rather than squelch it. 

Personally, I'm not going to argue with a man who wrote 10 books a year for 16 years! Books that, during the depression, allowed him to not only enjoy a good standard of living but buy a yacht and sail around the world. Even if I don't agree with everything he said or did, I believe Lester Dent has something to teach us.

A Note

One thing about Michael Moorcock’s take on Lester Dent’s short story formula. I’ve been talking about the books Dent wrote but this is a short story formula. Specifically, a short story of about 6,000 words. You might wonder how this applies to you if you plan to write a 90,000 word novel.

I think the answer comes by way of Robin Yocum, who I chatted with recently. Robin mentioned that he plans a book chapter by chapter, approaching each chapter as though it were a short story. (This also helps him write in small snippets of time. It can be impossible to keep the structure of an entire book in one’s head, but quite doable for a short story.) For example, a 90,000 word story could be composed of 15 chapters or sections of 6,000 words.

Michael Moorcock on Lester Dent’s Formula

Moorcock splits the 6000 words up into 1,500 word sections.

Part 1: “...hit your hero with a heap of trouble.”
Part 2: Double the trouble.
Part 3: The hero is in so much trouble that all hope is lost.
Part 4: Get your hero out of trouble in a clever way your reader could have foreseen but doesn’t. 

Two Rules of Thumb

Rule One: Character introduction. Make sure all your main characters have been introduced by the end of Part 1.

Rule Two: All the storylines (A, B, C, etc.) should be introduced by the end of Part 1.

Quarters and Thirds

Michael Moorcock talks about a 6,000 word story both in terms of quarters and in terms of thirds. Both work. What follows is my take on what Michael Moorcoch said. 

Part 1 (1500 words) -- Ordinary World
Part 2a (1500 words) -- The Special World of the Adventure
Part 2b (1500 words) -- The Special World of the Adventure
Part 3 (1500 words) -- Return to the Ordinary World 

I will post a brief overview of all the parts of the series, and then launch into the series. I thought it would be fun to try and write a story--or at least a story outline!--as we go along. So, please! Think of what kind of murder we should have. We will need clues, a mentor, a sidekick and an interesting, quirky, protagonist. Leave a comment or contact me over at Twitter (@woodwardkaren). In the meantime, good writing!

Links

1. Lester Dent’s Short Story Formula

Lester Dent's Short Story Fiction Formula: Index

Where you can find me on the web:
Twitter: @WoodwardKaren
Pinterest: @karenjwoodward
Instagram: @KarenWoodwardWriter
YouTube: The Writer's Craft

Blog posts you might like:

Sunday, April 18

How to Write a Genre Story: Character Introduction: Empathy

How to Write a Genre Story: Character Introduction: Empathy



The end goal of character creation, the Holy Grail, is for your reader to feel empathy for your character. 

Jim Butcher writes:

“...if you can make people love who you want them to love and hate who you want them to hate, you’re going to have readers coming back to you over and over again.” (Characters, Jim Butcher)

Creating empathy for your character 

Empathy, like happiness, can be elusive. 

The problem: I can’t will myself to have empathy for a character anymore than I can will myself to be happy! And I certainly don’t have a magic pen that I can wave to create empathy in my readers. Writing a character people love--or love to hate!--is a dark art.

BUT, as we have seen, there are things--like exaggeration, unusual position, and verisimilitude--that can increase the chance that your reader will emotionally bond with a character. 

If I could use an example. Happiness is wonderful, but one cannot simply will oneself to be happy. Also, there’s no list of things one can do that will guarantee happiness. That said, there are activities one can do (eat ice cream, take a long stroll on a beach, and so on), states of mind one can cultivate (focus on a goal, don’t have unrealistic expectations for oneself, and so on), that will increase the chance that one will be happy.

In the same way, there are things we can do to encourage a reader to love a character.

The Key to Creating Empathy: Sequels

Butcher writes:

“Like V-Factor [verisimilitude], empathy takes time to build and it relies heavily upon the skilled use of sequels.” (Characters, Jim Butcher)

(By the way, I’ve written about sequels in my blog post: Parts of Story: The Structure of Sequels.)

Empathy and Sequels

In writing, especially genre writing, stories are made up of an unbroken string of scenes and sequels.

Scenes are where the action happens. It is where the protagonist clashes with an antagonist, whether this clash is verbal/intellectual, mental or physical. In the sequel--which is a place where characters and readers alike can take a breath between scenes--we see the characters reveal themselves, their inner persons, through how they respond/react emotionally to the set-back (or victory) they experienced in the previous section. 

It is by seeing the characters REACT that we get to know them, get to know the kind of people they are. And here’s the trick that isn’t a trick at all, it’s just a basic fact of human nature: How a person responds to a setback is a large part of what makes us admire them, love them. Or despise them, hate them.

It is in the character's response to the setbacks of life that WHO SHE IS shines through.

Think of it this way. I’m old enough to have thought (when I was a teen) oh this is what I would do if such and such happened. For example, if I caught my boss stealing his employees tips, or if I saw my neighbour being robbed, or … well, you get the idea. And then, as one goes through life, those boxes get ticked off, some of those things, things that I was so sure I knew how I would react to, actually happen. And sometimes I didn’t react at all as I thought I would. My emotions weren’t what I thought they would be. Things that I thought would make me angry made me cry and vice versa. As a result I learnt about myself.

Sequels

So. Emotional reactions--authentic emotional reactions--are crucial for exposing a fictional person’s character and so for encouraging the reader to relate to, and bond with, the character.

Okay, now we’re getting into it. In a sequel order is important. (I write about this a bit in “How to Write a Genre Story: Character Introduction: Verisimilitude.”)

The Structure of Sequels

There are different possible structures for a sequel.

Dwight V. Swain:

1. Emotional reaction
2. Cognitive reaction
3. Anticipation
4. Choice

Jim Butcher:

1. Emotional reaction
2. Review, Logic & Reason
3. Anticipation
4. Choice

Here’s how I think of it:

1. Emotional reaction ==> a) Instinctive b) Cognitive
2. Reflection (look back, figure out what was)
3. Anticipation (look ahead, figure out what could be)
4. Choice

Sequels: The Order

Part 1: Emotional Reaction

The emotional reaction breaks into two. There’s the instinctive emotional reaction and what I think of as the cognitive emotional reaction.

Instinctive Emotional Reaction

I wrote about the instinctive emotional reaction in my last post, the one on verisimilitude.

Think of burning your hand on a hot stove. You react and your hand moves away from the burner before you realize what happened.

Think of the first time you felt betrayal. Perhaps your significant other told you they had been cheating on you with you best friend for the past 20 years, or perhaps you found out your business partner emptied your joint bank account of millions of dollars and fled the country. I doubt either of those apply to you, but we have all been betrayed in both big and little ways. Think of one time you felt betrayed. What was your immediate reaction?

If you’re anything like me at first I had an almost physical reaction, it was like a punch to the gut. I couldn’t catch my breath. There was an odd dislocating sensation, it was as though I had been kicked out of the ordinary world of my normal existence.

Cognitive Emotional Reaction

THEN, in the second stage, the emotions come. Emotions like pain, disbelief and anger. Then perhaps resentment and the desire for revenge. But these emotions are what I call cognitive in the sense that they are your reactions, your emotions, where for the first few seconds or minutes, you just felt the shock, like static electricity, wash over you. 

Part 2: Reflection

After the first wash of emotions sweeps over someone, they start asking questions like, “How did this happen? Why did this happen? This involves looking back at their world and noticing how that world has changed. You thought your partner was working together with you for your mutual good when, instead, he had been lying to you. Now you wonder: How was it really? How--why--did I allow myself to be fooled, what happened? What did I do wrong? How could I prevent this from happening in the future?

Part 3: Anticipation

Next, our fictional someone looks ahead and says, perhaps with a sigh, Okay, THAT happened. Now what?

Well, there’s rarely only one possibility. If my business partner made off with the company’s money it might look something like this:

Possibility 1:
I could hire someone, perhaps a PI, to get the money back, or try to get it back myself.

Passibility 2:
Forget about the loss, write it off. He’s gone, forget him. I’ll earn the money back.

Possibility 3:
Steal the money back. Get him to trust someone like he got me to trust him and steal the money back. Do to him what he did to me.

There are more possibilities but you get the idea. Which possibility our fictional person chooses will tell you a lot about her, it will begin to reveal to you the kind of person she really is.

This brings us to…

Make sure the STAKES (what the character has to lose) and the potential REWARD is clear.

We must cash out each possibility in terms of what the hero would risk and what they stand to gain, what are the potential drawbacks and benefits?

Your reader must be crystal clear on what the personal cost and potential reward is for each contemplated course of action.

Part 4: Choice/Decision

It’s important--crucial--that the hero has a goal. A goal gives the hero a way to order possibilities, the good and the bad.

Think of a pyramid. The top of the pyramid is the hero’s goal. The idea is to order the potential plans along the pyramid. But this pyramid has different dimensions. One could order the potential courses of actions, the proposed plans, according to each plans chance of success or one could order the proposed plans according to whether each plan would necessitate the hero violating their principles, or a person could order the plans according to the likelihood that bystanders will be injured, and so on. In other words, in choosing between the proposed courses of action, tradeoffs will be introduced.

Difficult Tradeoffs

Tradeoffs are great for creating tension. Let’s say that Possible Action A would get the hero the closest to his goal but it would mean violating one of the principles he lives by. 

Does the hero want to achieve his goal so much that he is willing to violate the code that has structured his life and has made him the person he is? Or will the player abandon his goal and so stay true to the principles he lives by?

This is a difficult decision and what he chooses to do will tell us a lot about him. 

Examples:

Goal: Save a young child from an evil villain who would do nasty things to her.
Principle: I keep my word. Always.
Cost: Hero would have to break his word if he is to save the child.
Dilemma: If you keep your word you will have to allow the young child to die.

Goal: Save a village from starvation.
Principle: Saving lives is good.
Cost: The life of a young child.
Dilemma: If you let a young child die, you will be given a big sack of money and so be able to save an entire village from starvation. But that would mean letting a young child die when you could have prevented it.

Or let’s say you’re writing a romance:

Goal: Find your soulmate, the lost half of your true self.
Principle: Keep the secret of your strength/power.
Cost: The cost of being accepted by your soulmate is that the hero would have to make himself vulnerable, he would have to place himself at the mercy of someone he isn’t sure he can trust.
Dilemma: The hero has a secret that he mustn't share. If he shares it, then another will know how to weaken him and he could die. But he has fallen in love and his love is telling him: You don’t trust me! If you truly loved me, you would trust me. Share your innermost secret with me and I will know that your love for me is true.

So, what will the hero do? Will he choose the way of trust and acceptance of what he hopes is true love or will he stand by his principle and say, “You can accept me as I am or not at all. Your choice”?

Each choice a character makes will affect how your reader feels about him.

In my last example I was of course drawing from the biblical story of Samson and Delilah, but the writer could resolve this conflict however they wanted. Perhaps the girl is forcing the hero to choose because she has been charged by the hero’s enemy to get his secret and doesn’t love him. Or, perhaps, she has been burnt before and simply wants to know that the man she loves would trust her with his life and she really would die before she gave up the hero’s secret.

Well, that’s it! This is the last post in my mini-series on character introductions. Also, I’m nearly at the end of blogging my book. If you have a topic you would like me to write about, please do suggest it! Leave a comment or contact me on Twitter: @woodwardkaren. Good writing!

-- --

Other posts in this extended series (I'm blogging a book):
How to Write a Genre Story: The Index

Where you can find me on the web:
Twitter: @WoodwardKaren
Pinterest: @karenjwoodward
Instagram: @KarenWoodwardWriter
YouTube: The Writer's Craft

Blog posts you might like:

Links

Characters, Jim Butcher.

Monday, April 12

How to Write a Genre Story: Character Introduction: Verisimilitude

How to Write a Genre Story: Character Introduction: Verisimilitude



This post continues my mini-series about how to introduce a character. I’ve already written about Exaggeration, Unusual Position and introducing characters in Action. 

Today I’m covering Verisimilitude and later this week--I’m aiming for Thursday--I’ll close the series off by writing about Empathy. Here are links to my previous posts in this mini-series:

How to Write a Genre Story: Character Introduction: Exaggeration
How to Write a Genre Story: Character Introduction: Unusual Position
How to Write a Genre Story: Character Introduction: Characteristic Entry Action

(Here is an index to all the blog posts in my soon-to-be written book: How to Write a Genre Story)

Verisimilitude

Verisimilitude. No, that’s not an exotic disease.

If a character has verisimilitude then they act believably which means that they act in a way that is consistent with who they are, with their core attributes. By the way, I’m getting much this information from Jim Butcher and his wonderful article, Characters. Jim Butcher calls verisimilitude the “V-factor.” 

He writes:

“The most exotic character in the world becomes nothing more than an annoying cartoon figure if he doesn’t behave in a consistent and believable manner.”

As an example, Butcher mentions Jar Jar Binks. As you likely know, Jar Jar was first introduced in the first of the Star Wars prequels, The Phantom Menace. 

It seems as though the character of Jar Jar checked most of the right boxes. He definitely had exaggerated and unusual traits and he was introduced in a way that helped make him memorable. But then WHY were Star Wars fans' reactions to him so mixed? Jim Butcher thinks that it is because, at least in part, Jar Jar didn’t have a consistent and believable manner. To paraphrase Butcher, the V-force was not with him. (Sorry, couldn’t resist!)

How to give a character verisimilitude

I think there are two things that make a character feel real.

First, as we have seen throughout this mini-series, you give the character tags and traits that illustrate who they are. Further you make at least one or two of these traits exaggerated, unusual. 

Second, a character’s V-factor has to do with HOW you communicate a character’s emotional reactions. That’s what Jim Butcher focuses on and that’s what I’ll talk about, below. Here I just want to note that if this sounds similar to the pattern of a sequel, I would agree. This is the very same pattern. And it is enormously important.

Think of when you’ve encountered a sudden setback. What happens? Well, myself, I’m hit with a wall of pure, raw emotion. There’s no thought, not yet. It’s sort of like when I touch a hot stove (and, yes, I have been that idiotic, ‘Gee, I wonder if it’s hot yet.’) My hand started to move away from the burner before I felt the pain. Then I had a reaction which was, “Wow, touching a hot burner was a really bad idea.” Finally I made the decision to not do that again.

That’s perhaps a silly example but think of any sudden, negative, shock you’ve had. A significant other suddenly breaking up with you, hearing that you’ve been betrayed, and so on. Human beings have a reaction to those sort of things and it happens in a particular order. If that order isn’t right your readers probably won’t notice it but, still, it won’t FEEL right to them.

So. Jim Butcher lays out the three stages:

1. Emotions
2. Reactions
3. Decisions

In one of Jack Bickham's books he gives an example of a person coming home from work and, as they usually do, he calls out, “Honey I’m home!” But he is met with the silence of an empty house. Puzzled he looks around and spots a piece of paper on the hall table. He walks over and looks at it.

It’s a note from his wife. She tells him that she has been having an affair with the grocer for the past year and that she has left him.

What is his first reaction? EMOTION. A wave of emotion, of pain and regret. He’s not thinking about anything. There’s a chair nearby and he slumps into it because he doesn’t want to fall down. 

Then he REACTS. Then he’s angry. How could she? How could she lie to him like that? How could she betray him, deceive him? She had told him she loved him, and all that time…

But what should he do? He could try to get her back, try to track them down. He could hire a private detective to find them. Perhaps the grocer had pressured her, perhaps he had blackmailed her. Even if not, perhaps he could win her back. But does he really want to do that? Perhaps he should let her go her own way. 

The man presses bloodless lips together and makes a DECISION. To hell with her. He will scrub her from his life, from his memory, from his heart.

You see the pattern. If we had the decision before the emotion, it wouldn’t be credible or if the man had the reaction after the decision that wouldn’t make sense. You might be thinking, “Well, yeah… Did you really have to tell anyone that? Isn’t it obvious?” And, sure. On one level it is, but it is something that writers can get wrong and then the character doesn’t feel real.

Summary

When an event important to your character occurs, have your character react to it in a way that makes sense (see above) AND in a way that makes sense for them, that is true to their core characteristics. Those two considerations are equally important.

Well! That’s it for today. I’m trying to keep to a schedule of putting out a blog post on Monday and publishing my interview with a marvelously interesting writer on my YouTube channel on Tuesday. Tomorrow I will upload my chat with a singularly fascinating individual, Lydia Moore.

I hope you have a wonderful week, I'll talk to you again on Thursday. Good writing!

-- --

Other posts in this extended series (I'm blogging a book):
How to Write a Genre Story: The Index

Where you can find me on the web:
Twitter: @WoodwardKaren
Pinterest: @karenjwoodward
Instagram: @KarenWoodwardWriter
YouTube: The Writer's Craft

Blog posts you might like:

Saturday, April 10

How to Write a Genre Story: Character Introduction: Characteristic Entry Action

How to Write a Genre Story: Character Introduction: Characteristic Entry Action


Introductions are important. 

Do you remember the first time you introduced your Significant Other to a parent? There are few things in life you need to get right the first time but that’s one of them! Another one is introducing your protagonist to your reader.

Character Introductions

What makes a character introduction work? What needs to be communicated?

Jim Butcher writes:

“...it is critical to make sure you get the bare bones of your character into his [the reader’s] head immediately.”

By “the bare bones of your character” I think Butcher is referring, at least in part, to what I’ve been talking about in previous articles in this series: character tags. (For example, see How to Write a Genre Story: Characters: An Introduction to Character Tags

Characteristic Entry Action

Sorry for using a long quotation, but Jim Butcher hits the nail on the head here. I can’t say it better or more clearly.

“A solid CHARACTERISTIC ENTRY ACTION consists of introducing your character to the reader by bringing him into the story in the course of an action which clearly, sharply typifies who and what he is.

“Lethal Weapon 2 starts off in the front seat of a stationwagon during a police chase, with Mel Gibson howling in excitement and pounding on the ceiling while Danny Glover fumbles for the siren, tries to talk on the radio, and tries to convince Mel that they don't really need to be doing this. It strongly establishes both characters as cops. It demonstrates Mel's love of wild action, Danny's cautious approach to his work, and the relationship dynamic between the two. (I liked it so much that I borrowed shamelessly from it to start off Grave Peril.)

“Every Bond Pic that opens on the "opening mission" template does the same thing: it shows you Bond being a heroic spy and engaging in lots of danger and action.

“Your character is a frustrated high school nerd? Then have him come on stage late for his school bus, which promptly drives away even though the driver obviously saw him coming. (IE, Spider-Man.) Your character is a titanic lumberjack? Then start him off towering over the north woods and felling fifty trees with each swing of his axe.

“Make the introduction count. This is something you can't afford to screw up.” (Characters, Jim Butcher)

An Example: Riggs and Murtaugh from the Lethal Weapon series

I just rewatched the start of Lethal Weapon 2 (sometimes I love doing research! ;). It was epic! It sets up Martin Riggs as a reckless thrillseeker, interested in going after bad guys regardless of the price to either himself or those closest to him. And then there’s Roger Murtaugh, Riggs’ partner. Murtaugh is an excellent foil for Riggs. He overthinks things where Riggs underthinks them. Murtaugh has a loving wife and family, Riggs is alone. Murtaugh is patient and careful, Riggs is impatient and careless. And all those qualities come out right at the start.

As for what Riggs and Murtaugh’s character tags are, I would say that one of Riggs’ tags is what I’ll call his ‘crazy face’: those insane wide eyes coupled with that almost Joker like grin. Also, Riggs wears casual clothes while Murtaugh wears a proper suit with a red tie. These nicely help to both indicate each man’s character as well as help us remember it.

An Example: Trinity from The Matrix (1999)

Another example of a (literally) kick-ass Characteristic Entry Action is how the character of Trinity was introduced in The Matrix (1999). She appears to defy the laws of physics as she methodically, quietly, dispassionately kills those who have been ordered to arrest her. This establishes her as an outsider, a rebel. Further, she clearly possesses knowledge and abilities beyond what seems possible for humans.

I know I’m dating myself by saying this, but the first time I saw The Matrix was in the theatre. I don’t think anyone breathed during that opening sequence. It’s, hands down, the best I’ve ever watched. And it gave us a very good sense of who Trinity was and, by extension, who her companions were, what they were like and what her role in the story was.

To sum up:

A. Get the essential characteristics of your protagonist (or any major character) into your reader’s head as quickly as possible.

B. Make these essential characteristics interesting! (An unique object that is a bright color or an object--like a wizard’s staff--that can do unusual and unpredictable things, a low laugh that is tied to Bad Things Happening, and so on.) 

C. Especially if you’re writing a genre story, be sure to make at least one of the traits exaggerated along either a mental, physical or familial dimension.

By the way, I know that some of the tags I’ve mentioned can seem like cliches, but I think that whether people groan when they read a story about a wizard and his staff depends on the writer making that particular wizard unique. One way to do this is for the writer--you--to use your own memories, your own particularity, as a lens through which the reader can see the character. Since you are unique, this will guarantee that your stories will be unique. And, of course, they will also have your voice.

A Writing Exercise

As an exercise pick someone in your life and make a character of them. What are their strengths? What are their weaknesses? Now tweak these traits so that they are extreme. (You never have to tell them you’ve done this!)

For example, one of my friends (I went to school with him) is very smart and open to new experiences (that’s one of the personality dimensions). This means that his tagline in life could be stated as: ‘Boundaries? What boundaries?’ His nimble mind and his readiness to explore alternative possibilities have given him a few good stories over the years.

If I were to create a character based on my friend I would make him as brilliant as Sherlock Holmes but in every story he would hold a different eccentric theory about how the universe really is. But he would also find a way to test the theory and, if it didn’t hold up, he would change his beliefs. And I would try to tie that theory, or the testing of that theory, into whatever it was that cracked open the case for him.

Oh, and he’d name all his children from characters in his favorite books. I think I would give him seven children. They would be adults and live all over the world. Perhaps a different one would be his Watson in each story. Or something.

That’s just a silly example, but perhaps it will inspire you to think how you could help merge the universal (I think my character will be a detective…) with the particular (...and he will be based on my experience of my friend.)

Until next time, good writing! I hope you are having a wonderful weekend.

-- --

Other posts in this extended series (I'm blogging a book):
How to Write a Genre Story: The Index

Where you can find me on the web:
Twitter: @WoodwardKaren
Pinterest: @karenjwoodward
Instagram: @KarenWoodwardWriter
YouTube: The Writer's Craft

Blog posts you might like:

Tuesday, April 6

How to Write a Genre Story: Character Introduction: Unusual Position

How to Write a Genre Story: Character Introduction: Unusual Position


Today I continue my series on how to create a memorable character. 

In my last post (How to Write a Genre Story: Character Introduction: Exaggeration) I went over Exaggeration. In this post I would like to chat with you about what Jim Butcher refers to as “Exotic Position,” but I’m going to call, “Unusual Position.” 

a. Put an exceptional character in an exceptional situation.

Jim Butcher writes:

“Locating your character in an unusual location or situation is another way to help create immediate interest. ... A sentence about a young woman sitting in a chair is far more blah than a sentence about the first female shuttle commander maneuvering in her EVA frame in high orbit.”

Here are the first three paragraphs of J.R.R. Tolkien’s Fellowship of the Ring:

“When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton.

“Bilbo was very rich and very peculiar, and had been the wonder of the Shire for sixty years, ever since his remarkable disappearance and unexpected return. The riches he had brought back from his travels had now become a local legend, and it was popularly believed, whatever the old folk might say, that the Hill at Bag End was full of tunnels stuffed with treasure. And if that was not enough for fame, there was also his prolonged vigour to marvel at. Time wore on, but it seemed to have little effect on Mr. Baggins. At ninety he was much the same as at fifty. At ninety-nine they began to call him well-preserved; but unchanged would have been nearer the mark. There were some that shook their heads and thought this was too much of a good thing; it seemed unfair that anyone should possess (apparently) perpetual youth as well as (reputedly) inexhaustible wealth.

“‘It will have to be paid for,’ they said. ‘It isn’t natural, and trouble will come of it!’” (The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien)

Everything about Bilbo and his surroundings is unusual. Bilbo Baggins lived longer than was normal for hobbits. And not only that, as his years stretched out, he showed no signs of aging! Also, he was extraordinarily rich as well as adventurous--in fact, his travels abroad had made him a local legend! And of course we’re talking about hobbits, a population of people who are completely unaverage in all sorts of ways, including their diminutive height.

b. Put an exceptional character in an ordinary position.

Jim Butcher writes:

“Naturally there's the inversion of this, too, where you take a very unusual character and put him in an utterly mundane position, like Mister Incredible working in Insurance Cubicle Purgatory.” (Characters, Jim Butcher) 

The movie True Lies with Arnold Schwarzenegger and Jamie Lee Curtis springs to mind. 

“Harry Tasker leads a double life: to his wife Helen and his daughter Dana, he is a boring computer salesman often away on business trips, while in actuality he is a secret agent for a U.S. intelligence agency named Omega Sector whose motto is 'The Last Line of Defense.' ” (Wikipedia)

True Lies was a nearly perfect movie! Harry was a spy who had one of the most exciting jobs imaginable who pretended to be in one of the most boring jobs imaginable. 

Subdivisions: social, geographical, intellectual and moral

Butcher doesn’t go into detail about these variants, but here’s my interpretation:

Social position

An unusual social position, so something different from the average. Some of these are tropes, the commoner who is really royalty, the fey child unwittingly raised by human parents, and so on.

Geographical position:

Everything is relative. What would be considered unusual to Americans--a trip to Reykjavik or Honolulu--would be ho-hum to the people who lived there! Visiting Mars or The Moon, today, would be unusual but perhaps in 500 years it will be commonplace.

Intellectual position:

I think that Sherlock Holmes’ intellectual position was quite different. He was a genius. Perhaps he would say that he just noticed things other people didn’t and understood what he noticed. Perhaps it’s the same thing.

Moral position

This one I’m not sure about. Perhaps it would involve taking an extreme moral stand? Someone who cannot, or who refuses to, tell a lie no matter the cost? A monk or a nun who lives in a religious community? Someone who has vowed to never harm another creature?

The Unpredicted

We, as humans, are interested in the unpredictable--or at least the unpredicted--because it can kill us--because, by definition, we can’t prepare for it. We are on the lookout for things that violate our expectations, our understanding of the world. This is true for our story worlds as well.

Think about your life, what memories, events, come to mind? For myself, I remember when I came in third place for the high jump in elementary school. That event stands out because I wasn’t (and this is a charitable way of putting it) a top student in Physical Education. I was definitely more of a nerd than a jock!

Going back over my personal memories--especially my early memories--there is something emotional involved with all, or at least most, of them. For example, receiving an unexpectedly wonderful gift at Christmas or someone breaking their word about something I cared very much about.

As humans, we need to remember the exceptions, the things that aren’t as we would expect. When, in real life, we come across these things we need to understand them and incorporate them into our world view.

Jim Butcher’s character, Mouse

I’ll close with an example.

One of my favorite characters in Jim Butcher’s The Dresden Files series is a dog named Mouse. 

Physically, Mouse is impressive. He is a Tibetan Temple Dog (which in The Dresden Files is a rare breed) and is absolutely massive, standing waist high to Harry, and Harry is 6’9’’ tall!

Intellectually, Mouse is exceptional. My impression from reading the series is that he is much more intelligent than the average human. Harry Dresden is the Watson to Mouse’s Holmes--though that’s not quite right because, although Mouse might be smarter, Dresden is a powerful and wiley wizard.

Mouse’s origin is unusual. He is thought to be a descendant of an ancient Foo spirit. In Blood Rights a litter of puppies had been stolen by someone evil and Dresden had been commissioned to get them back. But one, Mouse, chose to stay with Harry and stowed away in his car, the Blue Beetle.

Okay! That’s it for today. I tried to get this post out on Monday but, well, better late than never! :-) Good writing! I’ll talk to you again on Thursday.

Links

Characters, by Jim Butcher

-- --

Other posts in this extended series (I'm blogging a book):
How to Write a Genre Story: The Index

Where you can find me on the web:
Twitter: @WoodwardKaren
Pinterest: @karenjwoodward
Instagram: @KarenWoodwardWriter
YouTube: The Writer's Craft

Blog posts you might like: