Showing posts with label writing community. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing community. Show all posts

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:

Monday, March 8

How to Write a Genre Story: Characters: Homo Fictus

How to Write a Genre Story: Characters: Homo Fictus


Characters--Homo Fictus--are the raw material from which stories are created, but who are these entities who populate our stories and how do they differ from flesh-and-blood people?

Homo Fictus

Characters can be viewed as a pseudo-species of humans that differ from their flesh-and-blood counterparts in at least three respects.

1. Characters are fathomable, understandable. Humans aren't.

I'm not suggesting that great characters, outstanding characters, don't have contradictory desires or goals. All the best characters do.

One of the most interesting characters I've come across is Walter White from Breaking Bad. What are his two main drives? To take care of his family and to make is mark on the world. He wants to unleash his intellect and, no matter the consequence, show the world what he can do. 

These two desires--to provide for his family and to be remembered--often come into conflict and drive the story forward. And we easily understand this clash of motivations.

Humans, though, can be truly unfathomable. We want one thing one minute and then the opposite the next. I’ve gone into an ice cream shop with a friend convinced that regardless of what my friend wanted I was not going to buy an ice cream cone...and walked out with an ice cream cone.

Humans can be flaky, their goals can and do change on a whim and they make bad decisions in silly ways that aren't interesting. 

How well do you know your friends and neighbours? If you think you know them pretty well, think about how many times you've heard the neighbors of a serial killer say, "He seemed like such a nice man."

The key point here is not that characters shouldn't have contradictory drives or desires--they should!--it is that readers must be able to understand them. As a story progresses we need to see more of a character’s layers. Although I may revise my initial judgement about a character, by the end of the story I must feel that I understand her. Not necessarily approve or condone, but understand. I must be satisfied that the kind of choices a character made were a result of the kind of person she was.

For a character to be interesting and memorable she must be fathomable. If she isn't, the reader will become bored, turn away from the story and find something more engaging to do.

2. Characters are exceptional; most humans aren't.

Granted, not all characters are exceptional, but every character I've fallen in love with, every character that has lingered with me after the page on which they were introduced, has been. 

To understand the importance of this let's look at what Dwight V. Swain calls a trait, or a tag of attitude (for more about this read Swain's book, Techniques of the Selling Writer). A tag of attitude is a behavioural quirk or disposition. He writes:

"The key thing to remember about tags is that their primary purpose is to distinguish . . . to separate one character from another in your reader’s eyes."

For example, on the show Monk, the lead--Mr. Monk, played by Tony Shalhoub--is a former police detective with an obsessive-compulsive disorder whose main goals in life are to find his wife's killer and to get back on the police force. As a character, Mr. Monk is mostly unexceptional. His wardrobe is bland, his culinary tastes are bland, and his personality is bland. 

So, why did so many people--myself included--love the show? Mr. Monk is exceptional in two ways: he is fanatical about cleanliness (as well as orderliness) and he is the best detective in the world. His core skill (or trait/tag of attitude) is that he notices absolutely everything in his environment regardless of whether it's important, something that is both (and this is Mr. Monk’s catchphrase) a gift and a curse.

3. Humans are infinitely complex, characters aren't.

Fictional human beings are simpler and more goal-oriented than ordinary flesh-and-blood people. As E.M. Forster writes in Aspects of the Novel:

"But people in a novel can be understood completely by the reader, if the novelist wishes; their inner as well as their outer life can be exposed. And this is why they often seem more definite than characters in history, or even our own friends; we have been told all about them that can be told; even if they are im­perfect or unreal they do not contain any secrets, whereas our friends do and must, mutual secrecy be­ing one of the conditions of life upon this globe."

I used to have a gal pal I went to go see movies with, I'll call her Rachel. In general, we had the same taste in movies. After awhile we got to know each other well. I could tell which parts of a movie she'd find funny, which parts she'd roll her eyes at, which parts would make her cry, and so on. 

But she continually surprised me. Occasionally, she wouldn't laugh at something I thought she'd think was hilarious or she thought the hero who sacrificed it all for his true love was an idiot, or...well, you get the idea. No matter how well I think I know someone they can surprise me. But this isn't true of a character. 

If a character surprises us--for instance when I learnt Keyser Söze's true identity at the end of the movie The Usual Suspects--I looked back through the movie and realized that I'd missed, or misunderstood, quite a few things. The ending made perfect sense. If it hadn't then it wouldn't have been a good ending. In real life, though, endings often don't make a great deal of sense but, hey, that's why we tell ourselves stories! ;)

-- --

Humans are complex. We do unexpected things with unsatisfying results in ways that make little or no sense. That's boring. Or maddening. Often both. Compared to humans, our characters are blessedly simple. They have fewer desires, fewer goals, and the needs they have are more exaggerated and more intense than yours or mine. 

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

Blog posts you might like: