7 Steps: How to Write a Story Description

I like writing descriptions for my stories about as much as I like eating day old spinach. So! In the best tradition of procrastinators everywhere I decided to write a blog post about how to quickly write a good description. 

By the way, if you think this topic sounds familiar, I’ve written about it before, though with a slightly different focus. Here are links to those posts: 

• Creating A Logline, Or One Sentence Summary, For Your Story 
• How to write a query letter: the paint-by-number approach 
• Query Letters: How To Write Them And Who To Send Them To 
• How To Write A Kick-Ass Blurb 

Let’s get started!

How To Write A Pain-Free Story Description, Quickly.

If you outlined your story this process should be relatively pain-free. If you didn't outline, answering these questions may help strengthen your story's structure.

i. Who is the main character?

In J.K. Rowling’s wildly popular children’s story, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, we’re given the main character’s name right in the title!  Harry is an orphan who lives with his odious Aunt Petunia, her intolerant husband, and their spoilt child Dudley.

ii. What is unique about the main character? What is their special gift? What can they do that no one else is able to? Has their special gift marked them in some way?

Harry Potter had been able to mortally injure Voldemort. In Lord of the Rings, only Frodo could carry the One Ring to Mount Doom. In The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Stieg Larsson gives Lisbeth Salander elite computer skills, she can do things that none of the other characters in the novel can do.

iii. What is the initial setting?

As a baby, Harry was left with his obnoxious Aunt Petunia Dursley, Uncle Vernon Dursely and their bratty child Dudley Dursley. Harry is not accepted for who he is and he is constantly reminded that his aunt, uncle and Rodney all hate having him around and wished he would leave.

iv. What is the main character’s initial goal?

Harry’s initial desire—the thing he wants most when we’re first introduced to the character—is to be part of a family. He desperately wishes his parents weren’t dead, that he was living with them. Or even that he knew more about his parents. Harry, like all of us, wants to find people who accept him for who he really is.

v. What person or force opposes the main character achieving his/her initial goal?

In Harry’s case, his Aunt, Uncle and their spoilt son Dudley oppose Harry. They are his antagonists, his tormenters. 

vi. What is the story goal?

The story goal is the main character’s overriding goal. Whether the main character will attain the story goal is determined at the climax of the story.

Harry Potter’s overriding goal in the first book is to protect the only home/family he has ever known, the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, from harm. He wants to figure out how Voldemort is endangering the school (and the world in general) and stop him. Specifically, he wants to prevent Voldemort from getting hold of the Philosopher’s Stone and getting back his power.

vii. Description of Antagonist.

What person or force opposes the main character achieving his/her story goal?

Voldemort opposes Harry. Or, to put it another way, it is impossible for both Harry and Voldemort to both achieve their main goals. 

viii. Positive stakes: If the main character achieves his/her goal what would the consequences be for the main character, the main character’s allies, the antagonist, the antagonist’s allies and the world in general?

- Harry: Will be able to stay at the only place he’s ever felt accepted, it’s his only real home.

- Voldemort: If Voldemort doesn’t get the Philosopher’s Stone then he won’t be able to get his power back which means he won’t be able to take over the world and remake it in his image.

- Harry’s allies: Life can go on as normal.

- Voldemort’s allies: Their dreams of attaining wealth and power will be dashed.

ix. Negative stakes: If the antagonist achieves his/her goal, what would the consequences be for the main character, the main character’s allies, the antagonist, the antagonist's allies and the world in general?

- Harry: Harry would be dead.

- Voldemort: Voldemort would, eventually, rule the world and kill billions of people including Muggles.

- Harry’s allies: Dead.

- Voldemort’s allies: Bloated with wealth and power.

x. Break into Act Two.

What happens, what occurs, to transition, to carry the main character into Act Two?

Hagrid arrives to grant Harry one of his wishes: he tells Harry what he really, truly, is—a wizard—and gives him the incredibly welcome news that he will be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the fall. The school, or rather the people there, become Harry’s new family and give him the sense of belonging he sought.

xi. The Special World of the Adventure. 

Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry Potter discovers he’s a wizard and that he has been accepted into a school created just for people like him. Not only will he fit in, he is regarded as  something of a hero.

xii. Complication/Antagonist/Pinch Point.

Voldemort is attempting to get his power back. If he does he will destroy the entire world, Harry and Hogwarts included.

xiii. Test and Trials.

While in the Special World of the Adventure, the main character learns about his parents and himself. He discovered how his parents died, why and how he came to live with the Dursleys, why he has the scar he does, and Ron Wesley’s family accepts him.

Putting the Description Together

Okay! You will notice that not all of the above points directly contribute to the description, but they help lay out the essential structure of the story, it’s backbone. 

By this time you should have one or two sentence descriptions for each of the above points. Now let’s knit this information together into a description. (Not each and every point will be used, but they allow us to  double-check that our story is well-formed.) By the way, I’ve taken this particular description from the publisher’s book page.

Initial setting: “Eleven-year-old Harry Potter is an orphan living with his cruel aunt and uncle when ...”

Break into act two: “... he makes a discovery that will change his life forever: he is a wizard. He is whisked away to the mystical Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry ...” 

The Special World of the adventure: “... to learn magical skills, from potions to spells to flying on broomsticks.”

Complication/Antagonist/Pinch Point: “But an evil power is rising, the same one that threatened to destroy the entire world when Harry was only a baby. 

Test and Trials: “As Harry learns the truth about his family, his childhood, and his mysterious lightning-bolt-shaped scar, he finds unforgettable friendship, a loving surrogate family, and ...”

Description of Antagonist: “... the courage to face the darkest force ever to menace the wizarding world.”

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That's it! If you'd like to read more about story structure, here are a few links:

• Short Story Structures: Several Ways Of Structuring Short Fiction
• Short Stories And Their Structure
• A Story Structure In Three Acts

C.S. Lewis: Writing Advice

To say that C.S. Lewis is one of my favorite authors, while true, doesn't begin to cover the enormity of my debt to him.

When I was a child he was the writer. I read the seven Chronicles of Narnia books in a gasp, one a day. My parents didn't see me for a week!

Mom would knock on my door and try to lure me out of my room every once in awhile—her efforts were NOT rewarded. But that's okay. She was a reader too and C.S. Lewis was on her 'approved writers' list. And she knew there were only seven books!

Today I was going to continue my series on how to create a Choose Your Own Adventure story (see here and here), but I'm not going to do that. Something happened on the weekend that I'm still reacting to and, as a result, I have the attention span of a gnat and the emotional stability of ... hmmm, well, say, of someone watching "The Fault is in Our Stars" for the 10th consecutive time!

Instead, I'm going to write about C.S. Lewis' advice to writers. For me, this is a bit like hugging a favorite blanket. I loved Lewis' work as a child; his novels are exemplars of what I consider interesting, absorbing, well-written stories.

C.S. Lewis' Writing Advice:

C.S. Lewis gave many different kinds of writing advice over the years. What I share, below, is his advice as it relates to language use. This advice comes from a wonderful blog post over at Aerogrammestudio.com, Writing Advice from C.S. Lewis.

1. Clarity is King

C.S. Lewis writes,

"Always try to use the language so as to make quite clear what you mean and make sure your sentence couldn’t mean anything else."

A similar piece of writing advice, one that Stephen King often gives, is to kill your darlings. In other words, remove those bits of text that don't do anything to further the story but which the writer is inordinately attached to. This is advice to ruthlessly de-clutter our writing in an effort to make our story as streamlined, as clear (and therefore as compelling) as we possibly can.

King follows the rule of thumb to reduce his manuscript word count by 10% before he submits it. Excellent advice, and not just for fiction writing.

2. Be direct. Forceful.

C.S. Lewis writes,

"Always prefer the plain direct word to the long, vague one. Don’t implement promises, but keep them."

In other words: use language like an athlete training for a big race. Make your sentence a sprint, make your scene a five minute mile.

What does the athlete want? Often the goal is either to win the race or beat their own best time. A writer's goal is similar. We want our books, our stories, to reach the number one spot on the bestseller lists or, failing that, we want our work-in-process to be the very best we've ever written. The way to do this is, I would argue, similar in both cases: be intentional. As you write, hone your skill. Try out new things. Do you feel most comfortable writing in the third person? Try it from the first person! Do you write best using the past tense? Then try writing from the present tense. Do you normally write from one point of view? Next time, try alternating points of view. And so on.

Words and paragraphs are tools a writer uses to create and communicate meaning. Be ruthless. Pair down your words, hone the meaning and in so doing you will expose the story.

3. Favor concrete nouns over abstract ones.

C.S. Lewis writes,

"Never use abstract nouns when concrete ones will do. If you mean 'More people died' don’t say 'Mortality rose.'"

Again, clarity is king.

4. Don't let fear drive you to use adverbs.

C.S. Lewis writes,

"Don’t use adjectives which merely tell us how you want us to feel about the thing you are describing. I mean, instead of telling us a thing was 'terrible,' describe it so that we’ll be terrified. Don’t say it was 'delightful'; make us say 'delightful' when we’ve read the description. You see, all those words (horrifying, wonderful, hideous, exquisite) are only like saying to your readers 'Please will you do my job for me.'"

I know this post is about C.S. Lewis' writing advice and yet I keep turning to Stephen King (if you haven't read On Writing you really, really, should), but what Lewis says here is very close to what King says in On Writing BUT Lewis' comment is more explanatory. I'll give you a quote from On Writing and then I'll say a few words about how Lewis' advice helps explain what King is on about. I'm devoting time to this because I've often been puzzled by King's assertion of the link between fear/timidity and adverb use). King writes:

"Adverbs, you will remember from your own version of Business English, are words that modify verbs, adjectives, or other adverbs. They’re the ones that usually end in -ly. Adverbs, like the passive voice, seem to have been created with the timid writer in mind. With the passive voice, the writer usually expresses fear of not being taken seriously; it is the voice of little boys wearing shoepolish mustaches and little girls clumping around in Mommy’s high heels. With adverbs, the writer usually tells us he or she is afraid he/she isn’t expressing himself/herself clearly, that he or she is not getting the point or the picture across.

"Consider the sentence He closed the door firmly. It’s by no means a terrible sentence (at least it’s got an active verb going for it), but ask yourself if firmly really has to be there. You can argue that it expresses a degree of difference between He closed the door and He slammed the door, and you’ll get no argument from me … but what about context? What about all the enlightening (not to say emotionally moving) prose which came before He closed the door firmly? Shouldn’t this tell us how he closed the door? And if the foregoing prose does tell us, isn’t firmly an extra word? Isn’t it redundant?"

Lewis is talking about adjectives while King is talking about adverbs (at least those that end in -ly), but I think the point each writer is trying to make is, essentially (ack!), the same.

When we write things like, "She jumped up and down. It was delightful," it IS like we're giving our readers stage direction. We're telling them what they should see in their mind's eye, we are telling them what they should feel. We say: This event is delightful, that is how you, Dear Reader, will think of it.

But, of course, that's telling not showing. As Lewis says, we're sloughing off the job of picturing this to the reader. Why? We do this because of fear. We do this because we're scared that, otherwise, our writing won't be able to communicate the meaning we want to express, the thought we want to express. Fearful and perhaps a bit embarrassed, we reach for an adjective or adverb that will tell the reader how they should feel, rather than using language, using our writing, to drag them into the world of the story and the mind of the narrator.

(Stephen King: What is writing? Telepathy, of course!)

5. Use the right word for the right job.

C.S. Lewis writes,

"Don’t use words too big for the subject. Don’t say 'infinitely' when you mean 'very'; otherwise you’ll have no word left when you want to talk about something really infinite."

This is KISS: Keep it simple, silly. Again, go for precision. Choose simple words that cleanly and clearly express your meaning.

If you would like to read about C.S. Lewis' daily routine, here's a blog post about just that over on BrainPickings.com: C.S. Lewis's Ideal Daily Routine.

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My hope is that you will find something in this post that inspires you to continue writing strong, fearless, prose. (That's also my hope for myself!)

Just as athletes must train, so writers need to hone their craft. I like to use short writing exercises to try out new things (for example, to write in a different tense or from a different perspective). Here is a list of writing prompts if you'd like to try it out.

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That's it! I'll talk to you again on Wednesday. Until then, good writing!

By the way, if you love listening to audiobooks (I do!) as well as radio plays (I do!) here is the best of both: the Chronicles of Narnia turned into a radio play! The best part is that you get it for free if you subscribe to Audible.

(Yes, that's an affiliate link, but this is a product I would love to buy and so don't hesitate to recommend. Also, clicking this link won't increase the price you pay for the product, but Amazon will put a small amount of money in my account, and every little bit helps to sustain this blog. If you'd like to contribute in another way, I also have a Patreon page.) Thanks!

Submit Your Work: 7 Paying Markets

Even if you practice the art and craft of writing for the pure fun of it, it's always nice to get paid! In light of this I thought I'd do something a bit different and list a few paying markets that are (at the time this was written) accepting submissions.

Be sure to examine submission guidelines closely before sending off your work, and read a few of the short stories/articles published by the market to get a feel for what the magazine wants. Good luck!

(The following markets were taken from the extensive market listing over at AllIndieWriters.com.)

Fiction Markets 

Albedo 

Website: http://www.albedo1.com/ 

Submission Guidelines: http://www.albedo1.com/submission-guidelines/ 

What they're looking for:

"We are always looking for thoughtful, well written fiction. Our definition of what constitutes science fiction, horror and fantasy is extremely broad and we love to see material which pushes at the boundaries or crosses between genres." 

Payment: 0.06 cents per word. Prefer stories between 2,500 and 8,000 words.

Analog 

If you get accepted by Analog, 99.99% of other science fiction writers will be green with envy. It is, along with Asimov's, one of the best markets in the world for science fiction.

Website: https://www.analogsf.com

Submission Guidelines: https://www.analogsf.com/information/submissions.shtml 

What they're looking for:

"Basically, we publish science fiction stories. That is, stories in which some aspect of future science or technology is so integral to the plot that, if that aspect were removed, the story would collapse. Try to picture Mary Shelley's Frankenstein without the science and you'll see what I mean. No story!"

"The science can be physical, sociological, psychological. The technology can be anything from electronic engineering to biogenetic engineering. But the stories must be strong and realistic, with believable people (who needn't be human) doing believable things–no matter how fantastic the background might be."

Payment: Between 6 and 9 cents per word. 

Andromeda Spaceways 

Website: http://andromedaspaceways.com/

Submission Guidelines: http://andromedaspaceways.com/submit-your-work/

What they're looking for:

"We accept science fiction, fantasy and supernatural horror works up to 10,000 words in length."

Payment:

• Short Fiction: 1 cent/word (AUD) with a AUD$20 minimum and $100 maximum per piece.
• Poetry, and Flash Fiction (under 1000 words): AUD$10 per piece.
• Non-fiction: AUD$10 for articles of 1000 words or greater.

Beneath Ceaseless Skies 

Website: http://www.beneath-ceaseless-skies.com/

Submission Guidelines: http://www.beneath-ceaseless-skies.com/submissions/

What they're looking for:

"Beneath Ceaseless Skies publishes “literary adventure fantasy”: stories with a secondary-world setting and some traditional or classic fantasy feel, but written with a literary approach."

"We strongly prefer under 11,000 words. We will consider stories over that length, but the longer a story is, the better it must be."

Payment: 6 cents per word.

Non-Fiction Markets 

A List Apart 

Website: http://alistapart.com/

Submission Guidelines: http://alistapart.com/about/contribute

What they're looking for:

• Features: 1,500 to 2,000 words. Pays $200 per article. 
• Articles: 600 to 1,500 words. Pays $100 per article. 
• Mini-Articles: 500 to 600 words. Pays $50 per article. 

Alaska Parent 

Website: http://www.alaskaparent.com/

Submission Guidelines: http://www.alaskaparent.com/write_for_us.html

What they're looking for:

• Features: 800 to 1,200 words. 
• Short Features: 500 to 800 words. 
• Tips: 150 to 600 words. 

Payment:

• Original articles: $40 to $200
• Reprints: $25 to $40

AppStorm 

Website: http://ipad.appstorm.net/

Submission Guidelines: http://ipad.appstorm.net/about/write-for-us/

What they're looking for: Articles about apps.

Payment: Around $60 per article. See submission guidelines for details.

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Want more writing markets? I've mentioned AllIndieWriters.com, but there is also The Submission Grinder. It's free and has information on over 1,500 markets.

That's it! I've been thinking about doing a series on various markets writers can sell their work to, both fiction and nonfiction, so let me know if you want more posts like this.

Tomorrow I'll post a writing prompt over on my new site, so check that out if you want a writing workout. Otherwise I'll talk to you again on Wednesday. Till then, good writing!

The Phenomenon of James Patterson’s Book Sales

James Patterson's success is astonishing.

• Patterson has written, or co-written, 147 novels. Of these, 114 were New York Times Best Sellers.
• 67 of Patterson's best selling books have made it to the top spot on the New York Times Best Sellers list. At the moment, Patterson holds the Guinness World Record for the number of New York Times bestselling books written by a single author. 
• Patterson's novels account for 1 in 17 of all hardcover novels sold in the United States.
• In the past few years, Patterson has sold more novels than Stephen King, John Grisham and Dan Brown combined.
• From 2008 he has been the most borrowed author in Britain’s libraries.
• Patterson has sold about 305 million copies of his books worldwide.

But perhaps the thing that startled me the most was that, in 1976, while Patterson was still a copywriter, he wrote his first book: The Thomas Berryman Number. In 1977, that book went on to win the Edgar Allan Poe award for Best First Novel. To read more about James Patterson, click here.

So, let’s get down to it: James Patterson has been insanely successful writing books that sell well. In the following I want to look at what we can learn from Patterson's practice and how we can apply those insights to our own work.

James Patterson's Work

I’ve begun many of Patterson’s books, but only finished one: Honeymoon. I finished that one because Patterson used it as an example to talk about his writing methods.

His writing, his style of writing just isn’t my cup of tea, but I have an enormous amount of respect for his work ethic and the success he has achieved over the course of his life.

So, how does he do it? (By the way, the quotations from James Patterson, below, are from World's Best-Selling Author James Patterson On How To Write An Unputdownable Story)

1. Be a very good storyteller.

It was Elmore Leonard who wrote, “Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.” Good advice.

Patterson says:

"I used to live across the street from Alexander Haig, and if I told you a story that I went out to get the paper and Haig was laying in the driveway, and then I went on for 20 minutes describing the architecture on the street and the way the palm trees were, you'd feel like "Stop with the description—what's going on with Haig?" I tend to write stories the way you'd tell them. I think it'd be tragic if everybody wrote that way. But that's my style. I read books by a lot of great writers. I think I'm an okay writer, but a very good storyteller."

Here's what I take from this:

• Leave out the boring bits.
• Write a story like you would tell it to a friend.
• Concentrate on telling a great story, not being a great writer.
• Find your story, your voice, and be true to it.

2. Give readers an intimate connection with your characters.

Patterson says:

"I try to put myself in every scene that I'm writing. I try to be there. I try to put the kind of detail in stories that will make people experience what the characters are experiencing, within reason."

I wrote about the importance of making the story intimate a few days ago, only I used Stephen King's masterpiece of horror, "The Shining" as an example (see: []).

Now, of course, both men are VERY different writers. Stephen King demonstrates a level of skill with his craft few can match. But, just going from what both men have said about their work, it seems that Patterson is driven by—in this area at least—one of the same concerns as King.

And that makes sense. After all, this is a point about storytelling, not just writing.

My take away:

• Let your readers see the storyworld through your character's eyes.
• Let your readers see your character's thoughts. (See: Free Indirect Discourse: How To Create A Window Into A Character's Soul & Show vs Tell: Talking About The Narrator)

3. Keep chapters short.

James Patterson's books tend to have short chapters. I did some calculations and, from the four books I looked at, the average chapter length was about 640 words. That's only about three manuscript pages!

My take away:

• Pay attention to the average chapter lengths in your genre. From what I've found, chapters in Science Fiction novels—as well as Romance novels—tend to be around 3,000 words long. On the other hand, thrillers often have chapters of around 700 words.

4. Outline.

Outlining saves time. I know not everyone outlines; there are pantsers and there are plotters, and that's okay.

Patterson creates a fairly extensive outline; each chapter is summed up in about a paragraph of text. He says:

"Each chapter will have about a paragraph devoted to it. But you're gonna get the scene, and you're gonna get the sense of what makes the scene work."

Let's say the paragraph is 100 words long. If the chapter itself is only 700 words long, then the outline represents about 14% of the chapter's content!

My take away:

• Having an outline enables you to see logical problems in your story before you sit down to write it.
• It's better to send off a detailed outline to your editor and give them the chance to troubleshoot potential structural issues before you write 80,000 words (and find out you have to re-write 20,000 of them!).

5. Have an ideal reader.

Patterson says:

"I try to pretend that there's somebody across from me and I'm telling them a story and I don't want them to get up until I'm finished."

Stephen King uses an ideal reader as well, for King it's his wife, Tabitha King. He tries to write prose that will make her laugh, or cry, or chuckle. That is, to write prose that will evoke her emotions. A very similar idea to Pattersons.

My take away:

• When you write, write to someone, write to your Idea Reader. This person could be made up or it could be someone you know.
• If you use a flesh-and-blood Ideal Reader they should be someone who likes to read the sort of thing you write. Otherwise, things can get messy.

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When I notice that two remarkably successful writers—successful in terms of books sold—do similar things even though their writing styles could not be more different, I try to incorporate those insights into my own writing practice.

That's it! I'll talk to you again on Monday. Between now and then I'll tweet a couple of writing prompts—I find them useful and thought I'd share!

Till then, good writing!

How To Write A Product Review

I’ve talked before (see Links, below) about how I write a critique, but I’ve never written about how I do a general review. Time to change that!

Essentially, I see a review as a persuasive argument. Your review of the product gives, first, your opinion of the product and then why you feel/think the way you do.

So far so good. But a great review goes beyond this and uses the writer’s own experiences to shape a persuasive argument: “I think this product is lousy/great  … and so should you!” The stronger the reasons for your opinion, the stronger your argument.

For instance, let’s say that the Kitchen-Gadgetinator 2000 is, hands down, the best apple corer I’ve ever used. That would become my thesis, my claim. I’d back up this claim by listing its positive features. (For example, “The Kitchen Gadgetinator 2000 is fast! Most gadgets take two full minutes to core an apple but this dohickey takes under a minute.”)

Like any good argument, though, if there are negatives about the product they need to be discussed. If you love the product, why do you love it despite these defects? Conversely, if the product has many positive points, but you hate it anyway, why do you?

Be Personal

Talk about your experiences with the product. After all, your experiences are the reason you’re writing the review!

Even though the number one reason anyone reads a review is that they want to know the answer to the question, Would I like this, if you can get the customer to smile, if you can reach beyond the page and change your reader's emotion, then—no matter what kind of writing you’re doing—it’s good writing.

Who Is Your Audience?

Taylor your review to your intended audience.

If you love the product you’re reviewing, then chances are you won’t have to do much audience research. I love role-playing games. I watch game trailers as they come out and have more-or-less strong ideas about what makes a game great. And, of course, I have my own list of “the greatest games ever made,” a list which is pretty much guaranteed to be different from everyone else’s list!

But no matter how I feel about the product I try to talk to as many people as I can who have used it. It could be that my reactions to the product are idiosyncratic, or I just don’t ‘get’ it. If this is the case still write the review, but mention that you realize your opinion is in the minority.

Compare The Product To Similar Products

Say you’re reviewing a camera. You might think the camera is terrific, but talking about, say, two close runner ups will give your readers perspective. This is where a comparison chart of key features might come in useful.

Be Focused

You probably can’t—and wouldn’t want to—talk equally about all the product’s features.

- Does the product have a killer feature? If it’s a camera, is it smaller than all other cameras? Lighter? Etc.
- What are, in your opinion, the product’s most important features?
- Do these features work as advertized?
- What did you like about each feature? Dislike?

Also:

- What was your first impression of the product?
- What things are easier to do if you use the product?
- Was there anything you had a bit of trouble figuring out?
- Is there something you thought the product or service would do for you, but it didn’t? Or, alternatively, anything that came as a pleasant surprise?
- Did the product meet your expectations?
- Is there anything that surprised you about the product? Was the surprise good? Bad?

Credentials

Generally, the only credentials one needs to write a review is your experience with the product. That said, readers would appreciate knowing a bit about you if the details are relevant to the product under review. For instance, if you’re reviewing a RPG game, your readers might be interested in which other RPG games you’ve played, which RPG game was your favorite, and so on. This information helps the reader understand your likes and dislikes and, I think, can help them get more out of your review.

Also, I think it’s much more fun to read a review that’s a bit personal and chatty. Don’t misunderstand, I want the facts, but I like it when they’re delivered in an entertaining and memorable way.

First Paragraph 

I try to (“try” being the operative word!) make the first line snappy, something to grab the reader's attention and showcase my writing style. I want to let the reader know this will be an informal, breesy, post—perhaps even a humorous post—and that they’ll learn something about the product in question that could be valuable to them.

Somewhere in the remainder of the first paragraph I’ll give the name of the product, I’ll also describe the product, what it does, how it can make a person’s life better, and so on.

At the end of the first paragraph I’ll inform my readers if I received a complimentary copy of the product for the purposes of review. Some folks do this at the beginning, in the first sentence, and that’s absolutely fine. Myself, since often the first sentence is what tells someone whether they want to read the review, I try and make my first sentence stand out from the crowd. I think as long as a writer is up front early in the review on about how they came by the product or service, that’s fine.

Ultimately, There Are No Rules

The only rule for writing well is that there are no rules. One hears this in connection with narrative fiction, but I think it’s just as true for review pieces. Which isn’t to say that certain ways of organizing your content don’t lend themselves more to being read and positively commented on.

How do you write a review? Please share your tips and tricks!

Links:

The Dark Art Of Critiquing, Part 1
Writing A Critique: Reading Critically
How To Write A Critique: The Sandwich Method

Classic Design vs Minimal Design: Part 2 of 2

This article continues yesterday’s post on Deborah Chester’s notions of classic design. All quotations, below, are from her article Fighting for Story.

Have A Proper Protagonist

Protagonists should be heroic, strong and admirable. They should be depicted in such a way that readers will like them. Further ...

Make The Protagonist Active

Chester writes that the protagonist should initiate confrontations “in order to accomplish a specific objective.” Further, each confrontation should cause a chain reaction. It should set other events in motion, events that “lead to bigger complications for the protagonist.”

Key point: There is a human being causing these difficulties for the protagonist. A good old-fashioned hand wringing, mustache twirling, villain. (Okay, not so much hand wringing or mustache twirling, but you get the idea.)

Have A Proper Villain

Deborah Chester admonishes us to make our good guys good and our bad guys bloodcurdlingly evil—or at least devious, ruthless and driven. They should be depicted in such a way that readers will not like them. She writes:

“It’s become unfashionable to label fictional characters as the good guy or the bad guy. To consider someone a villain means you must make a judgment. You must gauge this person against your standards, ethics, and principles, and find him or her lacking.”

And, when it’s put like that, I can understand the disinclination to do so. If one measures other people against one’s own code of ethics and then judges them if they don’t measure up ... well, that’s caused quite a lot of nastiness in the world.

In real life folks have a variety of tastes and predilections. In my book, that’s just fine. 

But as DC mentions:

“Fiction is art, and art makes order of reality. The story protagonist must become heroic in order to prevail over an opponent who chooses expediency enough to become a villain.”

I agree. That goes to the heart of the perception of villainy, of evil: choosing what is expedient over what is right. 

In the end I think it depends on the kind of villain you want to create. As Jim Butcher and Donald Maass have said, most antagonists, even villains, see themselves as the good guy. They believe themselves to be the hero of their own story. 

Perhaps perspective is the key. Readers see the story world through the eyes of the viewpoint character. In a single viewpoint novel this is (naturally) going to be the protagonist. As long as the protagonist has reason to view the antagonist as someone who is more concerned with expediency than with what is right, readers are going to see the antagonist as a proper villain.

Linear Plotting And Viewpoints

No flashbacks. Deborah Chester writes:

“Classic design unfolds a story in a logical, cause-and-effect chronology. It begins with the catalytic moment of change in the protagonist’s circumstances that forces him or her to take action. Thereafter, it moves in a linear direction toward the finish where the story’s climax will resolve the protagonist’s problem one way or another.”

When there are no flashbacks the order of events is crystal clear and confusion is minimized.

One viewpoint. Classically designed stories tend to have one viewpoint character rather than several. (For example, all the books in The Dresden Files.) Deborah Chester writes:

“It [webbed plotting] involves several viewpoints, which in turn requires the story to present each viewpoint as directing a subplot. Strict chronology of story events is deemed less important than a character’s feelings or perspective. Although web plotting can generate more depth of characterization, if handled poorly it can result in a split focus in the story and much difficulty in achieving effective story resolution.”

I agree. Which, of course, isn’t to say that multiple viewpoint stories aren’t engaging—just look at the popularity of George R.R. Martin’s books. But, of course, Mr. Martin is a skilled writer. What he has pulled off is epic. I don’t think it’s controversial to suggest that a single viewpoint novel is much easier to write. So, all things being equal, if you’re setting out to write your first or second book, go easy on yourself (and your beta readers!) and stick to one viewpoint character.

How To Create A Suspenseful Scene

Deborah Chester mentions two things that help keep a scene on track and suspenseful:

1. Every scene should focus on a clear character goal.

2. Every scene should end in a setback for the central character.

Further ...

Character Creation: Be Bold. Be Vivid. 

Exaggeration is your friend. Each character should have one, or a few, qualities which define them (see: Tags & Traits: Characterization And Building Empathy). Deborah Chester advises us to “Exaggerate that quality. Own it. Flaunt it. Build it bigger.” Make your protagonist—make all your characters—vivid. She writes:

“When I read fiction, I want to follow a viewpoint character through tough problems right into the heart of conflict and see that character meet the challenge or be temporarily flattened by it.”

Mr. Monk wasn’t just quirky, he was downright strange. People are afraid of a lot of things, but he was afraid of pretty much everything. Including milk!

Harry Dresden isn’t just a wizard—which is pretty darn cool as it is—he’s the first and only wizard to announce himself as such and make himself available for hire. 

Scenes: Maximize Conflict

One of the best ways to create suspense is to create conflict. Chester writes:

“Every scene is focused around conflict, which is created by the clash between the protagonist’s goal and the antagonist’s goal.”

Also ...

“[...] scene-based conflict focuses a confrontation between protagonist and antagonist, brings an issue out into the open, pits the two characters against each other, and drives one or the other into victory or defeat.”

Beware Ending A Story On A Cliffhanger

Deborah Chester writes that the danger of ending a story on a cliffhanger “is that readers — and inexperienced writers — lose touch with how stories should be resolved, how [...] readers should be taken through a cathartic experience of anticipation, suspense, emotion, and satisfaction at the story’s conclusion.”

You might be thinking: But that’s not how it is in real life! To that DC says:

“Fiction isn’t supposed to be realistic. It’s art, and art focuses on the message its creator wants to convey. Story is contrived by writers to transport readers to a different place and time, to put them vicariously through tremendous challenges and difficulties, and to let them survive, prevail, and grow as individuals.”

As Stephen King has said, fiction is the truth inside the lie.

That’s it! Next time I’ll continue my series on Dan Harmon’s unique take on story structure. Till then, good reading and writing.

Classic Design vs Minimal Design

I know I said this blog post would either be about Part 7 of my series on Dan Harmon’s unique take on the structure of stories or I would delve into the beautiful dark heart of the gothic genre.

I’m going to do neither, because I came across a wonderfully informative post about story structure written by Deborah Chester. You can read it on her blog, Chronicles of the Scribe. It’s called Fighting for Story.

By the way, if you don’t know who Deborah Chester is, in addition to having written over 35 science fiction and fantasy books she holds the John Crain Presidential Professorship at the University of Oklahoma. In fact, she was Jim Butcher’s writing teacher back in the day and he dedicated his first book, Storm Front, to her. 

Classic Design

Unless otherwise indicated, everything I talk about, below, has been drawn from DC’s post, “Fighting For Story.” I urge you to head over to her blog and read it for yourself. It’s stuffed to bursting with insights on how to write suspenseful prose. 

Before we get going I want to talk a bit about what DC calls classic design. She writes:

“It [classic design] follows this pattern:  a protagonist pursues a goal despite the active opposition of an antagonist until the conflict escalates to an ultimate showdown and the protagonist prevails or loses.”

Also, in a classically designed story, there is an inciting incident that is the “catalytic moment of change in the protagonist’s circumstances that forces him or her to take action.” Further, at the end of the story, the “climax will resolve the protagonist’s problem one way or another.”

Classic vs Minimal Design

Chester’s object in writing “Fighting for Story” is to compare and contrast classic design with what she calls minimal design. She writes that “Minimal story design is where the protagonist is facing a problematic story situation but is reactive to it and may not necessarily be facing a direct foe.”

I’m acquainted with stories that use minimal design and—I won’t lie—I loved many of them! To each their own.

From what I can tell, the stories that DC refers to as minimally designed also (more or less) follow Joseph Campbell’s story structure. In what follows I’ll use American Beauty and Pulp Fiction as examples of minimally designed stories. One of the differences between these stories and, say, The Matrix (a classically designed story if there ever was one), is that the stakes seem to be handled a bit differently. 

From the first scene of American Beauty we know Lester Burnham is going to die, we just don’t know who will kill him or how the deed is done. Or, really, why anyone could possibly be passionate enough about Lester Burnham to kill him. Aside from those not insubstantial questions, a large part of the appeal of American Beauty is voyeuristic (or so I would argue). We hover about the family unseen. Fascinated, we watch them implode.

A Longish Aside

In American Beauty no one person is a Big Bad, if anything fits that description it is the inevitability of endings and failure and death. It is the constant awareness of our own inevitable mortality. Wonderful movie. It’s one of my top 10 favorites. Pulp fiction as well. It’s a brilliant story that made me laugh and gasp in surprise and, yes, cry. And all the while being ever so slightly ironic. (Or maybe not ever so slightly.)

Pulp Fiction and American Beauty are two very different movies but, from what I can gather from “Fighting for Story,” both would be examples of minimal design. My own take is this: If that’s the sort of story that lives inside you—go for it! Write it.

Alan Ball wrote and produced American Beauty and then went on to create and write the hit HBO series Six Feet Under. Quentin Tarantino hasn’t had a bad career either. ;)

Now, I’m not saying that if anyone employs minimal design in their stories then stardom (as much as stardom is possible for writers!) is guaranteed. Quite the opposite. I believe that it is much more difficult to write a compelling story if one employs a minimal design. Ultimately, I don’t believe one kind of story is superior to the other. We as people—as readers and writers—need both. I read and enjoy both, but I do have a soft spot in my heart for a good classically designed story, a story such as Deborah Chester and Jim Butcher (and many, many others) write.

Sorry for the long aside, but I wanted to make it clear that I don’t think minimal design is in any way bad. Jim Butcher has had a few things to say about the difference between classically and minimally designed stories—even though he never, to my knowledge, used those exact terms. And, as usual, he puts it far better than I could. Although in this quotation JB’s focus is narrower than DC’s, I believe the general point comes through. Jim Butcher writes:

“Sticking with the purely craft-oriented standpoint, we'll start with a basic question: what makes a good character?

“FIRST AND FOREMOST, FICTION WRITERS, YOUR CHARACTERS MUST BE INTERESTING.

“I mean, come on. Who is going to want to read about boring people? I can do that in the newspaper, or in any history class. Increasingly, as our society moves into the MTV-Information-broadband-instant-gratification age, reader tolerance for the dull and the plain is going to go down.

“Bottom line: without interesting characters, your book is already dead. You can write something that flies in the face of this if you like, and people the story town of Plainsville with John Smiths, and who knows, maybe you'll create an immortal piece of literary art. But for poor slobs like me whose sons are suddenly wearing larger shoes than them, and who are looking with mild panic at the costs of a college degree, there are a couple of basic principles to think about which could really help you in all kinds of ways.” (Characters)

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s see how we can employ Classic Design in our stories.

Ack! I’m at a thousand words. Well, I’ll leave the rest of this post till tomorrow. On Monday I’ll write about Deborah Chester’s tips on how to craft a compelling story your readers won’t be able to put down. Till then, have a great day, and good writing.

Part 6: TAKE - Take The Prize And Pay The Price

This article continues my series on Dan Harmon’s story model. Here’s a link to the first article: Dan Harmon On Story Structure.

6. TAKE - The Pearl And The Price

Part 6 is about consequences. The protagonist has just passed the midpoint of our tale, she has sloughed off most of whatever was holding her back and met with the Goddess. Now she must return to the Ordinary World.

But a price must be paid for this understanding. After all, the protagonist has taken something. She has found her own personal pearl of great price. A sacrifice is required.

I want to concentrate on two things in what follows. First, the second Call to Adventure and, second, the price the protagonist must pay.

The Second Call To Adventure

No, there isn’t really a second Call to Adventure. This is more like an echo of the first Call. Referencing the movie “Real Genius” Dan Harmon writes:

“In Real Genius (I'm really drawing on the classics, now), the dorky kid (1) is recruited for a special college program that's working on a powerful laser (2). He becomes the roommate of a wayward genius whose major is how-to-parrrrrtay (3). Party man teaches Dork how to relax while Dork teaches party man how to focus (4) and as a result, they are able to perfect their laser (5) and get their prestigious accolades. But now a second, more honest call to adventure from an uber-nerd who lives in the steam tunnels: What is that laser for? Why did they have to build it to certain specifications? What did that creepy, popcorn-hating professor have in mind? Sure, they could stay here in this pizza parlor, nursing at the tit of their own prosperity. But then again, they didn't get this far by being irresponsible. It's time to start heading back up to the real world and making things right, Genius style.” (Story Structure 104: The Juicy Details)

At the midpoint (or shortly afterward) the hero discovers either that there was a dimension, an aspect, of the first Call to Adventure that she didn’t fully appreciate or she figures out she’s been snookered. Often this shift in perception is brought about by her deeper understanding of the Special World of the Adventure, an understanding given to her by the Goddess (“the Goddess” being shorthand for whatever it was that evoked this epiphany).

For example, in “Die Hard” ...

“Having made his peace (5) regarding his marriage, John McClane now wonders why Hans Gruber, head terrorist, was so desperate for those detonators. He goes back to the roof and discovers that the entire upper portion of the skyscraper is wired to blow. With this realization comes the consequence (6): The giant blonde terrorist - the ED-209 to McClaine's Robocop- descends on him and the two will now battle to the death.” (Story Structure 104)

So the order is: 

(Part 5) Midpoint (Meeting with the Goddess)

--> leads to -->

(Part 5) A different way of seeing both oneself and the world

--> leads to -->

(Part 6) The protagonist making the discovery that there’s something wrong, or missing, from his view of the world/reality.

If the story isn’t a tragedy, then there’s often what I’ll call a saving grace. Something happens, the protagonist figures something out, just in time to avert complete disaster.

In Edge of Tomorrow (spoiler alert), Cage discovers that there’s something wrong with reality as he understood it: the Omega can feed him false visions. As a result, rather than battling with the Omega, he walks into an ambush. The saving grace is that he realizes what the mimics are after in time to avert total disaster.

In Die Hard, John McClane discovers that the kidnappers aren’t kidnappers or terrorists, they’re thieves. The saving grace: McClane realizes the significance of the detonators in time to thwart their plans.

The Pearl and the Price 

There are repercussions to meeting with the Goddess and in Part 6 the protagonist must pay up.

I’ve said, above, that in Part 6 the protagonist has the realization there’s something wrong, or missing, from her view of the world and therefore from her plans. Something fundamental was missing from her understanding of the mess she’s in and, as a result of her meeting with the Goddess, now she knows what it is.

This realization is both a boon and a bane. Without realizing the true depths of the problem one has, one can’t hope to solve it, but ... well, when one sees the true extent of the hole one is in that’s painful. Inevitable but painful.

In any case, there is always a price to be paid for this increased understanding of the true nature of one’s (story) reality. In Cage’s case as soon as he realized the Omega wasn’t where he ‘knew’ she would be, he realized the visions had to have been false. He’d been led into a trap. The price: He had one plan and that had gone to hell. He was back at square one. The pearl: He finally knew what he was up against.

All Hope Is Lost: The First Beat

As we’ve seen, in Part 6 the protagonist reaps the consequences of the understanding he gained in Part 5. This leads to the protagonist paying a great price which is manifested as her suffering a fundamental setback. 

In my opinion, this setback is often the first try-fail in the final All Hope Is Lost try-fail cycle. Dan Harmon doesn’t put it quite this way, though he does write that ...

“[...] in a good action movie, this is where our guy simply gets his ass kicked. Robocop, armed with Clarence Boddiker's confession (5), marches into the office of Dick Jones, CEO of the company that built him. He tries to arrest the man that owns him, only to discover that he can't. It's against his programming. Loveable, human Alex Murphy (2) might have been able to pull this off, but bullet-proof, factory-made Robocop can't. [...] Between his purely mechanical brother, ED-209, and his purely human brothers, the misinformed police, being sicked on him, Robocop barely makes it out of the father's castle in one piece.” (Story Structure 104)

Also ...

“In a love story, this is the part where they break up. Now comes the stubble and the dirty dishes and the closed shades. The deep, deep, suicidal depression. The boring relationship with the supposedly better partner. And finally, the realization that nothing was ever more important than him or her.” (Story Structure 104)

Where This Leads

The short answer: Deification. Becoming a living god, at least figuratively. Dan Harmon writes:

“When you realize that something is important, really important, to the point where it's more important than YOU, you gain full control over your destiny. In the first half of the circle, you were reacting to the forces of the universe, adapting, changing, seeking. Now you have BECOME the universe. You have become that which makes things happen. You have become a living God.” (Story Structure 104)

I think that process doesn’t truly come to fruition until Part 8: CHANGE and our protagonist wallops the Big Bad into the next Millennium, but here we see our protagonist begin to emerge from the ashes.

Yes, she’s going to suffer setbacks between now and the final showdown, but the process of transformation has already begun.

That’s it for today! Next time I’ll either look at Part 7: RETURN or I’ll talk about the gothic genre. Till then, good writing!

Part 5: FIND - Meeting With The Goddess

This article continues my series on Dan Harmon’s view of story structure. Here’s a link to the first article: Dan Harmon On Story Structure. 

Part 5: FIND - Meeting With The Goddess

The job, the function, of the Road of Trials (Part 4) is to prepare the protagonist for his—or her—meeting with the Goddess. Though, she may not be quite what you thought you she was. 

At the midpoint our hero is, metaphorically, in the depths of their psyche, in the dark, deep, depths of the unconscious so things are about to get wacky.  Harmon writes, “Anything goes down here. This is a time for major revelations, and total vulnerability. If you're writing a plot-twisty thriller, twist here and twist hard.” (Story Structure 104)

Revelation

As we’ve seen, the cave of the goddess is a strange, weird place where anything can happen. At this point the character, the protagonist, is blessed (or cursed) with a major revelation, an epiphany. As a result they have a deeper understanding of life the world and everything, including what they’ve been doing wrong.

The Role of Choice

It’s important the hero makes a choice, so it’s important there are choices to make. For instance, Does the protagonist save her ally’s life even though it could cost them the object they were seeking? Does the protagonist do the selfless thing even though doing so would almost surely cause the quest to fail? Does the protagonist admit to herself that she’s in love even though that admission could cost her everything she holds dear? And so on.

Whatever the choice is, it’s important the protagonist has time for reflection. This is a big choice and an important plot point. Even though it’s tempting to move on, give this moment the page space it deserves.

The Goddess

Exactly what do we mean by “The Goddess”? Dan Harmon writes:

“[...] the goddess doesn't have to be a femme fatale or an angelic damsel. In an all-male or all-female play that takes place around a poker table, the "goddess" could be a character's confession that they lost their job. The goddess can be a gesture, an idea, a gun, a diamond, a destination, or just a moment's freedom from that monster that won't stop chasing you.” (Story Structure 104)

The Role of The Goddess

Although The Goddess doesn’t mean only one thing, meeting with her (whatever form she takes in the story) is dangerous and guaranteed to transform the protagonist, changing how they think about themselves and the world around them. 

Sometimes this midpoint change benefits a character and makes it easier for them to achieve their goal, sometimes it devastates them, warping them forever (e.g., The Craft).

In any case, this is a moment of inner and outer transformation, for either good or ill. Dan Harmon writes:

“In Die Hard, John McClane, having run over broken glass, is sitting in a bathroom, soaking his bloody feet in the sink. It is at this moment that he finally realizes the true extent of his love for his wife, and what he's been doing wrong in their marriage. He (1) has been too stubborn (2). He uses his walkie talkie, acquired in step (4), to give a message to his wife through his benevolent, happily married, gun-shy counterpart: ‘She's heard me say 'I love you' a thousand times...but she's never heard me say I'm sorry.’”

There’s two things here. First, the action, the pursuit (Part 4), then a pause for reflection, a pause in which the protagonist has a profound revelation, an epiphany, one that changes their understand of both themselves and the world.

At The Midpoint The Hero Switches From Passive To Active

At the Midpoint the hero switches from (mostly) passive to (mostly) active. Also, notice the mirroring going on here. Dan Harmon notes that the protagonist goes from the mama’s boy of Part 1 to a lady’s man (Part 5). He writes:

“You might have noticed that, just as (3), the crossing of the threshold, is the opposite of (7) the return, (5), the meeting with the goddess, is the opposite of (1), the protagonist's zone of comfort. Think of (1) as being the arms of mother, however dysfunctional she might be. (5) is a new form of mother, an unconscious version, and there is often a temptation to stay right here. Like at that elf guy's house in Lord of the Rings.” (Story Structure 104)

Definable Moment

Harmon advises us to mark this transition with a definable moment. He writes:

“If this is a story of a poor little girl (1) who dreamt of being rich (2) and got adopted by a millionaire (3), having become accustomed to her new lifestyle, (4), she might now be something of a fancy pants (5). Show it with a definable moment. This might be a good point for her to drive by the orphanage in her limousine.” (Story Structure 104)

That’s it for today! Next time we’ll continue the ascent back to the Ordinary World by looking at Part 6: Taking what one has found and paying the price.

Part 4: SEARCH and ADAPT to the Special World

This article is the fifth in a series about Dan Harmon’s take on the structure of stories. If you’d like to read the earlier articles I’ve indexed them at the bottom of: Dan Harmon On Story Structure.) 

Today let’s look at ...

4. SEARCH: The Road of Trials

In Part 3 the protagonist crossed the threshold and descended from the Ordinary World—from the known, the comfortable—into the Special World of the Adventure. Now she must adapt to a land that is alien, strange, and frightening.

As Harmon points out, different writers have different names for this phase. Christopher Vogler calls it “Friends, Enemies and Allies,” producers call it, “The Training Phase.” Joseph Campbell called it, “The Road of Trials.” The point is that, “our protagonist has been thrown into the water and now it’s sink or swim.” (Story Structure 104: The Juicy Details)

The Protagonist Gives Up Something: No Pain, No Gain.

The protagonist must jettison excess baggage. After all, to gain something one must first give up something. If one’s life is cluttered with trifles we’ve held onto for maudlin sentimental reasons we must clean house to make room for something new. 

The protagonist must lose something, must divest themselves of something, before they can find what they’re searching for. This stripping of the cared for, of the familiar, will cause pain but will be transformative. But, then, pain and transformation are two sides of the same coin. Harmon writes:

“In Hero with a Thousand Faces, Campbell actually evokes the image of a digestive tract, breaking the hero down, divesting him of neuroses, stripping him of fear and desire. There's no room for bullshit in the unconscious basement. Asthma inhalers, eyeglasses, credit cards, fratty boyfriends, promotions, toupees and cell phones can't save you here. [...]

“In Romancing the Stone, Michael Douglas cuts the heels off of Kathleen Turner's expensive shoes with a machete. Then he throws her suitcase off a cliff. If she's going to continue to survive in this jungle, she literally needs to drop her excess baggage and lose the fancy pants.” (Story Structure 104)

Identify What Things (Ideas, etc.) Hold The Protagonist Back

Why do we need to shed this excess? Harmon writes:

“We are headed for the deepest level of the unconscious mind, and we cannot reach it encumbered by all that crap we used to think was important.” (Story Structure 104)

While it’s fine to have a pair of expensive designer shoes—especially if you happen to be at an event where everyone else is wearing expensive designer shoes—the protagonist needs to shed anything unnecessary, she has to get rid of the trappings of the Ordinary World, they have no place here. In fact, if she refuses to give them up she will fail to find what she has been searching for.

Fun And Games: Fish Out Of Water

As Blake Snyder reminds us in “Save The Cat!,” this is also a time for Fun and Games. This is where the hero explores the Special World and blunders about like a toddler, figuring out how things work, learning the ropes. As he does, he will make new friends as well as an enemy or two. 

For example, in Star Wars IV, Luke Skywalker visited the Mos Eisley Cantina with Obi-Wan Kenobi. That was a strange new world indeed! 

The friends and allies the protagonist makes in the Special World are invaluable, for they not only help him acclimatize to the strange new world, but to excel in it.

Mirroring

I’ll talk more about this later, though if you’d like to skip ahead, read Dan Harmon’s article, “Story Structure 104: The Juicy Details.” 

When we look at Part 6 we’ll see that it’s another road of trials, one that mirrors Part 4, only this time rather than descending to meet the goddess, the protagonist ascends on her return to the Ordinary World. Rather than being passive, rather than stripping away the excess, now our transformed protagonist is on the upward journey ready, ready to return to the ordinary world with what the goddess gave them.

That's it! Hope you had a wonderful week.

Part 3: GO - The Protagonist Enters An Unfamiliar Situation

Today, I continue discussing Dan Harmon’s take on story structure. In the first post in this series (see: Dan Harmon On Story Structure) I gave an overview and went into the origin of Harmon’s system. Head over there if you have questions, or you’re wondering why this looks a bit like Joseph Campbell’s book “The Hero With A Thousand Faces.”

3. Crossing The Threshold, Entering the strange, new, world of the adventure.

Here the protagonist takes a journey, a dangerous crossing, into the unknown.

Dan Harmon writes:

“What's your story about? If it's about a woman running from a killer cyborg, then up until now, she has not been running from a killer cyborg. Now she's finna start. If your story is about an infatuation, this might be the point where our male hero first lays eyes on the object of his desire. [...] If it's a coming of age story, this could be a first kiss or the discovery of an armpit hair. If it's a slasher film, this is the first kill, or the discovery of a corpse.” (Story Structure 104: The Juicy Details)

Harmon gives us what I think is a wonderful writing tool. He asks:

If you were going to make a movie poster for your story, what would it be? “What would you advertise to people if you wanted them to come listen to your story? A killer shark? Outer space? The Mafia? True love?” (Story Structure 104)

If you were reading a Werewolf story, chances are this (the 25% point) is where you’d discover Werewolves DO exist. Why? Because you’ve entered the strange and occasionally bizarre Special World of the Adventure. Here the rules are different and the protagonist is a fish out of water.

The Special World of the Adventure

In terms of Harmon’s/Vogler’s/Campbell’s system, The Special World is the lower, shaded, portion of the circle. (The Ordinary World is the unshaded upper half.)

Harmon writes: “Neo wakes up in a vat of goo in a world ruled by machines. His ordinary world desire to be a hacker, to fight the system, is going to be put to the test.” (Story Structure 104)

Contrast

The exact nature of the Special World will depend on the kind of story you’re telling, but there should be as stark a contrast as possible between the Ordinary World and the Special World. 

Think of the movie, The Matrix. It’s hard to get more stark than the difference, the contrast, between the Ordinary World of our experience and the Special World of humans in caves vats being used to power the machines.

Choice

The protagonist must choose to enter the Special World. Even if there’s coercion involved (as in the movie Collateral), the protagonist must make the decision to go forward. Christopher Vogler writes:

“Crossing the First Threshold is an act of the will in which the hero commits wholeheartedly to the adventure.”

Threshold Guardians

The tale of a hero setting out on a dangerous journey to acquire something of both personal and public value can be interesting. The tale of a hero setting out on an easy journey is boring. The protagonist must face obstacles that test her, that put her through the fire. This is one of the functions of a Threshold Guardian.

According to Vogler any Threshold Guardian worth her salt will be able to inspire doubt and fear, will be able to cause the hero to question whether they’re the person for this particular job.

This has been a brief overview where I’ve chatted about the highlights of what Dan Harmon calls Part 3. I’ve written more about this stage of the story here: A Story Structure In Three Acts: Act Two.

That’s it! Next time we’ll look at the protagonist’s descent into chaos.

The Dark Art of Blogging

Yesterday a friend told me he needs to stop blogging. It was a shock, but I think it’s the right decision for him, and I strongly suspect he’ll be back one day in the not-too-distant future.

It made me remember a time when, years ago, I needed to walk away from blogging. I was the primary caregiver for my parents. They needed help in their last years and I was glad to give it. 

During the worst patch, I stopped blogging for a few months. I had to. And, looking back, I’m glad I did. It was too much. In the odd half hour I could snatch for myself I needed to let my mind grope toward a static whiteness. At least, that’s what it felt like. Overload. I started hearing Scotty, “She cannae take any more of this, Captain! She’s gonna blow!”

Anyway.

Although I stopped blogging, I never stopped writing. Even if it was just scrawling down fragments of a story on the outside of torn envelopes. 

It’s almost ironic that when one needs the most time to meditate, to be still and feel and struggle to make sense of the apparently senseless, that one actually has less time.

And, of course, I came back! I have my friends to thank for that. When it was all over, they kindly, gently, encouraged me to resume blogging. And when I did I realized how much it meant to me, how much I’d missed it. 

So, looking back, I’m convinced that taking time away was the right decision. I think that if I had driven myself to keep blogging I may have ended up resenting my blog and, as a result, stopped for good. 

How I Blog, My Process

For a while now I’ve meant to write a post about what I somewhat jokingly call my process. But, over the years, I have developed a certain system, a certain rhythm. I strongly suspect this is going to be different for everyone, but, for what it’s worth, here’s what I do:

Step 1: A Handwritten Zero Draft

The overwhelming majority of my blog posts begin life as a handwritten draft scrawled in my writing journal. This is a rough, rough, draft, more like a zero draft than a first draft. 

Often, when I pen the first draft I’m not sure what the blog post will be about, I’m groping about for an idea. As I sit and write a theme usually emerges. 

Everyone’s different, but for myself it’s important I handwrite this first draft. If I try and type it I often end up staring at a blank screen thinking about all the things I need to do that day. I’m not sure why this is, but often a theme won’t emerge. Here’s where the “dark art” of blogging comes in!

Step 2: Transcribe The Zero Draft

I’ve experimented with voice recognition programs like Dragon NaturallySpeaking but find I spend just as much time training it as I do using it to write! 

I do sometimes use the voice recognition capabilities of my Mac, the program that comes with the operating system. Although it’s not as accurate as Dragon, I find it much more convenient since its only one keyboard shortcut away.

As I type in my first draft I reorder or delete paragraphs, fill in an idea or two, and so on. By the time the post has been transferred from my writing journal to my computer, I usually have a theme.

Step 3: Read The Post Through And Tweak It

The next step is to read my post through from beginning to end. It now begins to take on it’s final form. If I still don’t know what the post is about, I lay it aside and come back the next day.

Step 4: Polishing

Then comes polishing, and inserting whatever links are needed. (In previous drafts I simply put “[link]” in the text to indicate I’ll need to hunt up a URL.) When that’s all done ...

Step 5: Editing

I then ask my computer to read the post back to me. Often hearing my post will suggest editing changes. I try and eliminate rambling sentences that go on and on, with no period in sight, sentences where the point I was trying to make gets lost in the words used to make it; sentences like this one.

This is also where the lions share of actual editing takes place. Sometimes I’ll add another step and paste the whole thing from Scrivener to Word. Even though I love Scrivener, I like to use Word to expose my many grievous sins against the English language.

Step 6: Publish

And that’s it! Or, almost it. I still need to paste my post into the editor over at Blogger, fill in the metadata, find a public domain or Creative Commons picture, alter the picture to include the title of the post, save the image as a .jpg file, and upload it. Then, finally, it’s time to press that big, beautiful, orange “Publish” button.

And ... that’s it!

Or not. After the post is published I share the link with my social networks. For me, that’s Google+ and Twitter.

All in all it takes a few hours of work. But it’s worth it because the writing, the process, has become a living thing, like the beat of some wild subterranean drum. It’s something I love to do, something I must do. And, fate willing, I’ll be able to do it for a good long time.

That’s it! Thanks for reading. For my next post I’ll return to my series about Dan Harmon’s take on the structure of stories.