George R.R. Martin: The Real Iron Throne & Boycotting Orson Scott Card

"Stories are broken mirrors. They’re fractal displays and unkempt jungles. They’re a sunset made beautiful by an unpredictable confluence of clouds and chemicals and the unknown and forever unexplored context of those who will behold just such a sunset. (Chuck Wendig, Hell With What Sells)"

This is going to be a miss-mash post where I talk about several things I've found interesting.

First up:

George R.R. Martin's Game of Thrones

I'll admit it: I haven't read Martin's books, so I was surprised to discover that this (see the photo at the beginning of the article) is what the Iron Throne really looks like.

Very cool.

Which doesn't mean George Martin doesn't like the throne used in the TV series. He writes:

"The HBO throne has become iconic. And well it might. It's a terrific design, and it has served the show very well. There are replicas and paperweights of it in three different sizes. Everyone knows it. I love it. I have all those replicas right here, sitting on my shelves.

And yet, and yet... it's still not right. It's not the Iron Throne I see when I'm working on THE WINDS OF WINTER. It's not the Iron Throne I want my readers to see. The way the throne is described in the books... HUGE, hulking, black and twisted, with the steep iron stairs in front, the high seat from which the king looks DOWN on everyone in the court... my throne is a hunched beast looming over the throne room, ugly and assymetric...

The HBO throne is none of those things. It's big, yes, but not nearly as big as the one described in the novels. And for good reason. We have a huge throne room set in Belfast, but not nearly huge enough to hold the Iron Throne as I painted it. For that we'd need something much bigger, more like the interior of St. Paul's Cathedral or Westminster Abbey, and no set has that much room. The Book Version of the Iron Throne would not even fit through the doors of the Paint Hall. (George R.R. Martin: This is what the Iron Throne REALLY looks like)"

Ender's Game: To see or not to see, that is the question

I  love Orson Scott Card's writing, his stories, but not his political views.

Before I read this Salon article (Orson Scott Card’s long history of homophobia) I was going to go see the movie. The book is a favorite of mine and I was looking forward to watching Harrison Ford's performance.

I've changed my mind.

Here is a quote from the Salon article I mentioned, above. It is from: Orson Scott Card: State job is not to redefine marriage.

A term that has mental-health implications (homophobe) is now routinely applied to anyone who deviates from the politically correct line. How long before opposing gay marriage, or refusing to recognize it, gets you officially classified as “mentally ill”

Remember how rapidly gay marriage has become a requirement. When gay rights were being enforced by the courts back in the ’70s and ’80s, we were repeatedly told by all the proponents of gay rights that they would never attempt to legalize gay marriage.

It took about 15 minutes for that promise to be broken. …

If a court declared that from now on, “blind” and “sighted” would be synonyms, would that mean that it would be safe for blind people to drive cars?

No matter how sexually attracted a man might be toward other men, or a woman toward other women, and no matter how close the bonds of affection and friendship might be within same-sex couples, there is no act of court or Congress that can make these relationships the same as the coupling between a man and a woman.

This is a permanent fact of nature.

Here's the kicker:

Card went on to advocate for, literally, a straight people’s insurrection against a pro-gay government:

[W]hen government is the enemy of marriage, then the people who are actually creating successful marriages have no choice but to change governments, by whatever means is made possible or necessary… Regardless of law, marriage has only one definition, and any government that attempts to change it is my mortal enemy. I will act to destroy that government and bring it down….

I discovered these articles via Chuck Wendig's article: Tolerance For Intolerance: Boycotting Ender’s Game. Worth the read.

Homophobia is ugly, so I'd like to leave you with a photo that made me smile:

Source: Princess Queen

Photo credit (for the first photo graph in the article): Article by io9, This is what the iron thrown REALLY looks like. The artist is Marc Simonetti and George R.R. Martin talks about his work here: The Real Iron Throne. Here is a link to the photo on io9.com.

4 Reasons Why Some Stories Never Get Finished

I've been wondering: Why do some stories work out while others don't?

I'm finishing up a story I began in 2007; the story stayed with me, drawing my thoughts back to it. I kept wondering how it ended so I figured, well, why not? Pick the blasted thing back up and finish it!

Which is what I did ... or, rather, what I've almost done. It's nearly finished.

But it got me wondering: Why can I finish this story now? And why couldn't I do it before?

Here are four reasons why some stories never get finished.

1. The structure wasn't working

I love Chuck Wendig's posts on structure. He writes that there's no such thing as ONE archetypal structure. Rather, each story has it's own structure.

But of course there are things like arcs that are good to have, but not just arcs, shapes of all sizes, even squiggly ones. The important thing, the crucial thing, is to have movement.

In most of my early stories I started out with an idea and a good opening--and by 'good' I mean I had things happening, changes, problems being solved--but I had no idea where to go from there.

One idea/concept/rule-of-thumb that has helped me enormously is the notion of an 'all is lost' point where the hero goes through a major crises, a point where it looks as though not only is the very worst going to happen to him but that what we thought was the very worst isn't at all. A NEW and completely horrible very worst is introduced and our hero threatened with it.

Really, just the idea that one's hero should have a difficult time, that they should be persecuted, that the writer's job--one of them--is not to coddle their characters and pour them tea and share biscuits but to make their lives a living hell. One which, maybe, the writer will rescue them from.

2. Not enough of an idea

I've always been fascinated by creatures of myth. Or, more generally, of there being a Narnia-like place where I could go, my very own World Between The Worlds.

When I was a kid I wrote a bunch of stories consisting of about four pages. The stories would all be about an enchanted glade, about the quality of the air and how the light looked and the feeling of creation, of newness, of possibility, that the glade imparted.

It was probably good writing practice but it made for a lousy story because not only did nothing happen, it wasn't enough of an idea. Who was the protagonist? What did they want? How were they going to get it? What was opposing their efforts to get it?

The protagonist needs to solve a problem that will set her goal: the story goal.

For example, Indiana Jones in Raiders of the Lost Ark had a problem: get the ark before the Nazi's did and bring it back to the museum. After Indie brings the ark back home the story is over.

3. The subject matter was too personal

Sometimes I remember an adventure from my past and think: That would make a terrific story! Almost always the story grinds to a halt, or isn't very good, because I'm too close to the material.

Please don't misunderstand. As Red Smith once said (I'm paraphrasing): "Writing is easy. You simply sit down at the typewriter, open your veins, and bleed. (Red Smith, Wikipedia)" His tongue was firmly in his cheek, of course.

But I think that, sometimes, one needs a bit of distance from the material.

4. The structure was too difficult to keep track of

There are MANY reasons why a story goes unfinished.

It may sound silly, but I think one reason stories often go unfinished is simply because they get too long to organize properly! Without a detailed outline it can be difficult to hold a story in one's head, especially if that story has taken 100,000 or so words to write. (Incidentally, I've been using Scrivener more lately and find it an excellent partial solution to this problem.)

#  #  #

Before I go, I'd like to leave you with what the great and wonderful Janice Hardy has to say about choosing a setting. Wonderful advice, well given: 10 Questions to Ask When Choosing a Setting.

Cheers!

Have you started writing a story you've never finished? Why didn't it work out? What would you do differently?

Photo credit: "Flirt Tail" by Laura D'Alessandro under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0.

How To Publish 52 Short Stories And 10 Collections Per Year

This is another terrific article by Dean Wesley Smith, this time on how to make your stories visible: The New World of Publishing: Helping Readers Find Your Work.

The Plan:

1. Pick a genre.

2. Write one short story a week.

3. Each short story should be around 5,000 words.

4. Brand each book.

5. Publish each short story as an ebook and charge $2.99.

6. Every 5 weeks bundle 5 stories together into a collection. Sell this collection as both an ebook and a POD book. Sell the ebook for $6.99 and the POD book for $12.99.

If you take DWS's advice at the end of the year you'll have 52 short stories and 10 collections.

Not bad!

How To Make A Living Writing Short Stories

Dean Wesley Smith writes that the key to selling books is threefold: Produce a professional looking book, brand each book and have many titles available for purchase.

Produce a professional looking book

There are hundreds of articles out there on what it means to produce a professional looking book and how you can do that so I won't cover it again here. (If you're looking for some help, here's an article on where to find cover artists.)

Make sure each book looks professional, has a good description, has appropriate keywords and has been slotted in the right category. 

Brand each book

A brand is the "name, term, design, symbol, or any other feature that identifies one seller's product distinct from those of other sellers" (Wikipedia).

I'm not going to talk much about branding because there are oodles of great articles out there (for instance, Why Content Marketing is the New Branding).

Especially in this case, a picture really is worth a thousand words. Look at Dean Wesley Smith's Books. (Note: You might have to scroll down the page.) Notice how his name is laid out in the same way on each book; the same styling, the same font.

DWS writes that you want all your books, especially the ones in a series, to look similar. Also, make sure that the cover conveys a sense of the genre you're writing in. Think of the cover of your average romance book and contrast that with horror.

Have many titles available for purchase

That is, have many titles under the same name (/pen name) and genre available for purchase. If you write everything from romance to horror under the same name (/pen name) make sure that the books within each genre are branded distinctively.

How many books should one have for sale? DWS says: It depends. Between 10 and 50, give or take. (grin)

And remember, that's 10 to 50 books within the same genre written by the same author (/pen name).

#  #  #

The above represents only a portion of his article, I recommend heading on over to DWS's blog and reading the whole thing.

Cheers!

Photo credit: "Happy Fourth of July 2013!" by JD Hancock under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0.

Is Writing Rewriting? A Historical Perspective

Should Writers Rewrite?

There is a saying you've probably heard: rewriting is writing.

Some writers swear by this, for instance Elmore Leonard, Ernest Hemingway and Susan Sontag have all written passionately and convincingly on the virtue, in fact the necessity, of rewriting.

Other writers, Dean Wesley Smith prominent among them, just as passionately disagree. DWS points to writers like Harlan Ellison, writers who wrote stories in one draft, stories which have gone on to win awards. Dean himself has written a 70,000 word novel in 10 days and sold it for a tidy sum.

So, what's the deal with rewriting? Is it a writer's salvation or their bane?

I found this article by the Boston Globe absolutely fascinating: Revising your writing again? Blame the Modernists.

Craig Fehrman writes:

It’s easy to assume that history’s greatest authors have been history’s greatest revisers. But that wasn’t always how it worked. Until about a century ago, according to various biographers and critics, literature proceeded through handwritten manuscripts that underwent mostly small-scale revisions.

Then something changed. In a new book, “The Work of Revision,” Hannah Sullivan, an English professor at Oxford University, argues that revision as we now understand it—where authors, before they publish anything, will spend weeks tearing it down and putting it back together again—is a creation of the 20th century. It was only under Modernist luminaries like Ezra Pound, T.S. Eliot, and Virginia Woolf that the practice came to seem truly essential to creating good literature. Those authors, Sullivan writes, were the first who “revised overtly, passionately, and at many points in the lifespan of their texts.”

. . . .

What first got Sullivan thinking about revision was encountering a version of Ernest Hemingway she’d never seen before. While a first-year PhD student at Harvard, Sullivan visited the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and its Hemingway collection. She marveled at the famous author’s archive—his letters, his family scrapbooks, even his bullfighting materials. But one thing in particular stood out to her: the typescript of his novel “The Sun Also Rises.” It showed Hemingway changing his book dramatically from one version to the next. Monologues vanished, entire plot points disappeared, and, in the end, he arrived at the terse, mysterious novel that became part of the American literary canon. “The Hemingway style that’s so familiar to us wasn’t in the first draft,” Sullivan says. “It was a product of revision.” [emphasis mine]

. . . .

“We often assume that style comes out of nowhere ... But style is produced in revision, and revision is not something writers do naturally.”

The Cost Of Paper

Why this attitude toward revision?  For one thing, the cost of paper! CF writes:

In the age of Shakespeare and Milton, paper was an expensive luxury; blotting out a few lines was one thing, but producing draft after draft would have been quite another. Writers didn’t get to revise during the publishing process, either. Printing was slow and messy, and in the rare case a writer got to see a proof of his work—that is, a printed sample of the text, laid out like a book—he had to travel in person to a publishing center like London.

All of these factors suggest that revision was not something that happened on the page. Indeed, during the 19th century, the Romantics made resisting revision a virtue. The best literature, they believed, flowed from spontaneous and organic creative acts. “I am like the tyger (in poesy),” Lord Byron wrote in a letter. “If I miss my first spring—I go growling back to my Jungle. There is no second. I can’t correct.”

What Is Good Writing?

This, really, is the nub of the issue. What counts as good writing? CF writes that Hemingway's attitude toward rewriting was ...

"... driven in part by a new philosophy of what made good writing. The Modernists wanted to produce avant-garde literature—literature that was less spontaneous and enthusiastic than it was startling and enigmatic. In an interview with the Paris Review, Hemingway famously described his “principle of the iceberg”: “There is seven-eighths of it under the water for every part that shows. Anything you know you can eliminate and it only strengthens your iceberg.”

A Shift In Technology

But it wasn't just a change in philosophy that made rewriting more attractive, there was also an advance in technology that made paper cheaper to make. CF writes:

"An equally big part of this change, Sullivan suggests, was a shift in literary technology. In 1850, Britain was producing about 100,000 tons of paper per year; by 1903, that number had increased to 800,000 tons per year. Printers started setting type by machine, which was five times faster than setting it by hand and allowed page proofs to be easily shared and corrected. Before long, authors were guiding their books through a long and potentially fertile process: first a manuscript, then a typescript, perhaps a magazine serial, and finally a series of proofs for the book. “One thing it allowed for that revision by handwriting didn’t is massive structural transformation,” Sullivan says. “Some writers reduced their work massively, and some expanded it massively.”

Jack Kerouac: Don't Afterthink!

Of course, not everyone is a modernist. That is, not every writer believes "that careful and substantial reworking would ultimately produce the best literature".

Can Revision Be Overdone?

CF writes:

In the last 30 years ... technology has shifted again, and our ideas about writing and revising are changing along with it. Today, most of us compose directly on our computers. Instead of generating physical page after physical page, which we can then reread and reorder, we now create a living document that, increasingly, is not printed at all until it becomes a final, published product. While this makes self-editing easier, Sullivan thinks it may paradoxically make wholesale revision, the kind that leads to radically rethinking our work, more difficult.

“The ideal environment for revision is one where you can preserve several different versions of a text,” Sullivan says. With only one in-progress draft on a computer, we lose the cues that led the Modernists to step back from their work and to revise it. “It’s that moment of typing things up that led to the really surprising and inventive changes,” Sullivan says. “The authors came back to their text, but it seemed estranged.”

A Cautionary Note

CF ends his article on a note of caution. He mentions that many authors who teach at universities "need to look more like professors and to discuss their laborious processes ... ‘We can’t teach you how to write, but we can teach you how to revise.’ And it’s a big business.”

CF writes that revision has always come with a cost. "... revision can go too far, making something worse instead of better.”

I think John Updike may have said it best: "Writing and rewriting are a constant search for what it is one is saying."

All in all a balanced, fascinating article. The link again is: Revising your writing again? Blame the Modernists.

Thanks to The Passive Voice Blog for the link.

Photo credit: "corn in the moonlight" by Robert Couse-Baker under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0.

Stephen King On Storycraft: Don't Force It

Yesterday someone sent me a terrific link to Anthony Mason's interview with Stephen King: Stephen King on storytelling.

It was a wide ranging interview and King is animated and relaxed, there's also a video. Great reading/watching.

Wait Until You've Gotten All The Pieces Together

My favorite part was Stephen King's reply to Anthony Mason about how he knows whether an idea is robust enough for a story. King is talking about his soon-to-be-published novel Doctor Sleep and says:

King: "I'd be driving in my car and I'd think, Well, now Danny Torrance is 23. And then a few years later I think, He's 27, or he's 28. So question was, what exactly is he doing?

"That's the sort of thing where it's, like, half an idea - okay, he's dysfunctional, he's alcoholic, the way that his father was an alcoholic. But it's only half an idea.

"And then I saw this thing ... about a cat in a hospice, and this cat knew when patients were going to die. And the cat would go into their room and jump up on their bed. And that's how the personnel in the hospice knew that that patient was going to be the next one to step out.

"And what really interested me about the story wasn't the cat, per se, but the fact that the patients seemed to welcome his visit. And I thought, Well, he's like an angel of death or an emissary of death, and maybe death isn't a bad thing. Maybe it's only sleep. And I put those two things together and for me it clicked. So I wrote the book."

MASON: "Uh-huh. And so you were just waiting for something to click on it?"

KING: "It has to click. There has to be, like, two or three moving parts to make it go. It can't just be one. So sometimes they all come together, and sometimes you'll get one piece and you have to wait a little while to get the rest. "

MASON: "Do you wait, or do you try to work it?"

KING: "Never try to work it, just wait."

MASON: "Why? 'Cause that forces it?"

KING: "Yeah. It's like if you have a piece of furniture that you want to get into your house. And if it's too big to fit the door straight on, you have your choice: either you can wait until you get somebody to help you and tilt that piece of furniture so that it goes through, or you can just ram it and scrape the sides up. So you don't try to force it. It's a little bit like a batter at the plate; if you try to force base hits, you're going to strike out a lot. So I have a tendency to wait until I get the pieces together."

The entire interview is a must read, and the video adds another dimension to the conversation.

Also:

"Mason asked King if writing is a compulsion for the 65-year-old author: "Or do you need to have some story that just gets in your brain you can't get out?"

"It's a compulsion," King replied. "For one thing, when I was younger, my head was like a traffic jam full of ideas, and they were all jostling, and they all wanted to get out. And I wrote a lot more than I write now. I still write every day." (Stephen King and his compulsion to write)

 65 years old and still writing every day. Pretty darn good.

Photo credit: "Stalker" by Laura D'Alessandro under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0.

11 Tips On How To Become A Better Writer

For the past few months I've been enjoying Chuck Wendig's posts about writing, and they just keep getting better!

11 Ways To Become A Better Writer

1. Write.

Have you written today? If not, stop reading this and go write something. Seriously. Go.

Chuck Wendig writes:

"Stop talking about writing. Stop reading about writing. Stop dreaming about writing. Stop doing things that don’t qualify as writing. The thing that defines a writer is that the writer writes."

2. Do what works for you.

Writers talk a lot about what works for them, and that's great, but it's important to remember that just because something works (or doesn't work) for someone else doesn't mean it will (/won't) work for you.

The only way you'll know what works for you is to write. CW writes:

I don’t have answers. Neil Gaiman doesn’t have answers. Jane Austen didn’t have them. Nobody has answers. We have ideas. Suggestions. Possibilities. The only writer who has answers about your writing is you. Advice is just advice. ... You are your own Muse.

That said, Neil Gaiman gave one of the best pieces of writing advice I've read, one that has helped me enormously. The following is from Neil Gaiman's Pep Talk for NaNoWriMo participants.

The last novel I wrote (it was ANANSI BOYS, in case you were wondering) when I got three-quarters of the way through I called my agent. I told her how stupid I felt writing something no-one would ever want to read, how thin the characters were, how pointless the plot. I strongly suggested that I was ready to abandon this book and write something else instead, or perhaps I could abandon the book and take up a new life as a landscape gardener, bank-robber, short-order cook or marine biologist. And instead of sympathising or agreeing with me, or blasting me forward with a wave of enthusiasm—or even arguing with me—she simply said, suspiciously cheerfully, “Oh, you’re at that part of the book, are you?”

I was shocked. “You mean I’ve done this before?”

“You don’t remember?”

“Not really.”

“Oh yes,” she said. “You do this every time you write a novel. But so do all my other clients.”

I didn’t even get to feel unique in my despair.

So I put down the phone and drove down to the coffee house in which I was writing the book, filled my pen and carried on writing.

One word after another.

That's the key. Write one word after the other.

I know, it sounds absurd, like telling a person they need to breathe to stay alive, but the next time you're stuck, try to remember that even brilliant writers like Neil Gaiman get stuck too. All you need to do is write one word after another. Don't think about the whole novel, or about what you've written, just think about the next word. Write that word, then write another one, and so on.

3. Good grammar matters.

4. Your first stories will likely suck.

I know my first stories sucked. Nothing happened in them. I'd never heard of character arcs.

In my early stories I got hung up all the time, I'd wander off onto a storytelling ledge and wonder why I couldn't write the second half. Gah! I really wish there'd been more information in those days about how to create dramatic tension/narrative drive, or even moderately interesting characters.

Jim Butcher's advice on Tags and Traits was a revelation to me.

Also, though, it takes time. And practice. And I don't think the practice ever really stops. We continue to learn, to grow.

5. Ignore the naysayers

There's always, always, going to be someone--probably a lot of someones--who put you down, who tell you that you can't do it, who say that either you're not talented or that people aren't reading the kind of stories you're writing, or that no one is buying books anymore, or ... the list is endless. 

Ignore them.

6. Learn to say "yes" more than you say "no"

This one is all Chuck Wendig. I have friends like this, people who not only say "Yes" but "Hell yes!" to just about anything they're asked, whether it is to do an interview, or to judge a contest, or comment on a novel.

And I think it's great advise.

But it's advice I haven't been able to take. I've had to say "no" a lot, no to reading and commenting on novels, no to doing reviews, no to being on panels. Why? Because I'm zealously guarding my writing time.

Don't misunderstand. I'm not anti-social. I would love to read every novel sent to me and give it a review, but I can't do that and maintain my writing schedule. And what do writers do? They write.

Writing comes first. Writing always comes first.

7. Don't make excuses.

Chuck Wendig writes: If you’re not writing, that’s your fault. It’s not anybody else’s.

It's a hard truth.

I want to stress, though, that of course life events will affect one's writing. Tragic events happen. My father died last year and that had a profound effect on me both as a person and a writer. I didn't write for at least two months after his death.

On the other hand, if a few weeks go by and you're always giving reasons for why you couldn't write, perhaps think about where writing is in terms of your priorities. There's nothing wrong with not writing. In fact, if writing is something you constantly want to avoid and is creating all sorts of stress, perhaps you need to put that dream aside for now and go on to other things.

8. Figure out what you love about stories.

Chuck Wendig writes:

Realize what you love about stories, and bring that love to bear on the page. Let the audience in on that love. Your love should be viral, like cat videos or the norovirus.

Amen.

I think points 7 and 8 are related. If someone loves writing they'll come up with excuses to avoid doing other things to scavenge more time to write.

9. Quit chasing your voice.

Chuck Wendig writes:

You will never find your voice. It isn’t a car and you aren’t a dog chasing it. It’s not a pearl in an oyster or an elk in the forest. Your voice is who you are. The way you think. The way you speak when you’re not thinking about how you speak. You are your voice. If anything it’s like a lost key. It’ll turn up just when you stop hunting for it.

Great advice! I think this--finding your voice--is one thing writing blog posts can help with.

10. Make the reader feel, make them think.

Chuck Wendig writes:

The best two things your story can do is to stir my emotions and to challenge my assumptions. Make me feel something (rage! lust! love! grief!). Make me think something (what is the nature of evil? what is the enemy of empathy? ...).

11.  The Secret

CW writes:

The secret to writing is so simple it tickles: Write as much as you can. As fast as you can. Finish ... Hit your deadlines. Try very hard not to suck. That’s it.  That’s my secret.

 That's it. That's every successful author's recipe for success: hard work and good luck.

Chuck Wendig's article deserves to be read from start to finish (contains adult language -->): 50 Rantypants Snidbits Of Random Writing & Storytelling Advice.

Do you have a tidbit of storytelling and writing wisdom? If so, please share! 

Photo credit: "Lisboa #2" by Thomas Leuthard under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0.

Writing: A Buisness Plan

My apologies for not posting much this week. One reason for my absence is I'm on vacation and have been busy doing cheesy tourist things.

It's been great!

The other reason I haven't blogged as much lately isn't new, I've been writing more and have been finding that all my stories take about four times longer to complete than I think they will.

A couple of people have asked me what I've been up to, so I thought I'd turn my answer into a blog post.

My Plan For Writerly Success

That's right, I have a plan! It's similar to Robert Heinlein's. Here it is:

a) Write.

Writers write
Writers often have a daily goal--they want to write X number of words--but I find I work better if I have a weekly goal. I write short, so my rewriting mostly consists of filling in scenes. That means I'll write a variable amount each day but a (more or less) consistent amount each week.

Also, rather than concentrate on the number of words I write a day I concentrate on the number of words I publish a month.

Write in many genres
Some writers have written in many genres and they know, not only what they like to write, but what they are best at writing.

I'm not one of those people, not yet, so I've set out to write a few stories in each major genre. At least, each major genre I like to either read or watch. Surprisingly, I've found writing horror stories rather fun.

Write stories of different lengths
I've been writing stories of all lengths: flash fiction, short stories, novellas and novels.

I know that there has been a lot of talk about what size story is the most lucrative--short story, novella or novel--and I think the verdict is in: the novel. (Though I tend to think that if several novellas, if they were in a series, were bundled together, that could sell just as well.)

Still, since I'm exploring a number of genres, it's much more sensible for me to write short stories than novels!

b) Finish what I write.

It is good advice to finish what you start but I think it's better to lay a story aside than force an artificial finish if you're stuck.

The best writers in the world have gotten stuck in the middle of a story. You know what this is like, right? You have a great idea for a story, you're writing gangbusters and then, after a certain point, nothing. It's like staring off the end of the world.

I've had stories like that--not many, but a few--and rather than forcing a finish, I put them aside. It has taken me years to finish some of those stories but, now, I'm picking them back up and completing them. And it feels fantastic!

So, yes, finish what you write but don't force it. Don't fear putting a story aside but, after you've consigned it to it's shoe box, do shift your focus and write something else.

One of the benefits of either doing an outline or writing the first draft sparely and quickly is that one knows, in broad strokes, what happens. It doesn't matter if there are gaps, you can go back and fill those in later.

But everyone's different. That's what I've been finding works for me.

c) Determine which stories are the most popular with readers

Downloads
Here's my criteria for what's popular: downloads. Not reviews.

Focus on readers, not writers
I'm interested in which stories are popular with readers, not writers. Yes, I love knowing what my friends and acquaintances think of my work, but many writers read like editors. That is, their literary taste is more like the average editor than the average reader. That's fine if one is submitting to editors or agents but not if one is putting ones work directly in front of readers.

d) No matter what, keep writing and publishing and learning.

Never give up, no matter what
You will fail occasionally. As Seth Godin says, if you don't fail occasionally, you're not trying. The key is not to give up. After all, the only way to get better is to continue putting yourself out there, continue getting feedback.

Comedians and risking failure

I love reading articles by comedians. Writers have it easy, we can work out our new material in the privacy of our offices. Comedians have it tough, they work out their new material in front of strangers and routinely get either ignored or heckled. But they keep doing it, they keep building up material.

Here are two articles I can recommend. The first is a 2012 interview Esquire did with Bill Murray.  At one point Bill Murray says:

"You gotta commit. ... You're goin' out there with just a whisper of an idea. The fear will make you clench up. That's the fear of dying. When you start and the first few lines don't grab and people are going like, "What's this? I'm not laughing and I'm not interested," then you just put your arms out like this and open way up and that allows your stuff to go out. Otherwise it's just stuck inside you."

It's important for writers to open up to failure as well. Of course we don't have to write in front of a live audience, we can write in the privacy of our office and publish it on a smaller site or hand it out to beta readers. The important thing is that we don't stop trying when we fall on our face.

The other article is by Paton Oswalt: A Closed Letter To Myself About Thievery, Heckling And Rape Jokes. PO's overall goal in the article is to talk about whether there are any subjects that are out of bounds, whether there are kinds of jokes that should never be told. It's a wonderful, thoughtful, article. Why I'm mentioning it here, though, is because he talks about what it was like for him as a young comedian, what it takes to make it in that business. Worth the read.

Okay! That's it for me today. Back to writing. I'll talk to you again tomorrow. :-)

Photo credit: "exposed" by Robert Couse-Baker under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0.

How To Create Memorable Characters: Be Merciless

When Bad Things Need To Happen To Good Characters

The following advice comes from Rick Mofina, a former journalist whose "crime thrillers have been published in 21 countries."

Always launch your story with a conflict confronting your protagonist. It should be a problem that mounts. For example, a lost wallet leads to identity theft, which leads to mistaken identity and something far worse. The conflict you give your hero could threaten their way of life, their community, or someone they love. (Seven deadly writing tips)

Truth Hurts But Writers Must Not Flinch

Some of the best advice on what it means not to flinch was given by Robert Wiersema at the Surrey International Writer's Conference a couple of years ago: SiWC 2011 Day One, Part Two: Don't Flinch: Robert Wiersema.

1. HOOK

You have, at most, two pages to grab a reader. You have to grab them in the first scene, in the first sentence. How do you do this? You create a question in the readers mind. The reader must answer the question to understand the sentence. This is like foreshadowing, but it is less obvious. A hook is implicit foreshadowing.

2. PLOT

How does the plot build suspense? Imagine you're driving down the road and you see a car in the ditch. What is going to happen? Everyone will slow down to look at the car and they'll wonder: What happened? It is part of our nature.

3. CONFLICT & CHARACTER = SUSPENSE

Frustrate your character. Which newspaper headline would grab your attention: "Man on the run" or "Man captured"?

- Have reversals. Characters should be frustrated at most turns. Here's the trick: the plot should be inevitable but not predictable. The plot should not be the same thing you and your readers have seen dozens of times. How do you avoid this?

THE KEY: The reader should always know slightly more than the character. Let the reader know an event is coming before the character does.

- In order to create suspense, the readers' expectations must be both met and undermined. What we are talking about here is shameless manipulation. You are telling people lies in order to get the response you want.

I constantly have to remind myself not to flinch. I want my characters lives to be effortlessly wonderful but that wouldn't make for an interesting story.

Photo credit.

The Four Act Structure For Story Writing

I've been both reading horror and reading about horror, about how to write it.

As I said yesterday, the structure of a horror story feels different, though perhaps not substantially different, from that given in the monomyth.

(For more on normal story structure, see Writing And The Monomyth, Writing And The Monomyth, Part Two, Writing And The Monomyth, Part Three and Story Structure.)

+Steve Devonport was kind enough to point me to this article, The 4-Act Story Diamond, by Belzecue. In it the author makes an excellent case that it is much easier to write stories with four acts rather than three. (If you have no idea what I'm talking about, take a peek at my blog on story structure.)

Whatever your opinion about the appropriate number of acts, I do think the four act structure could be useful when writing a horror story, a point made especially well by Belzecue's story diagram.

The Four Act Structure

Here's how Belzecue describes the four act structure:

REALM 1

The hero's Ordinary World.

This is the realm that the hero knows -- he knows the terrain and how to live in it. But here is just your average Joe Public, although he displays hero potential.

REALM 2

The Netherworld.

This is the realm the novice hero must pass through to reach the Kingdom of Evil. This territory is unknown, frightening and wonderful. Here, the hero is swept along on an inexorable tide that leads to ...

REALM 3 The Kingdom of Evil.

Here the forces of evil are the masters. This is their home turf, where they are strongest. The hero is gonna have to be very clever to avoid capture.

REALM 4

Back to the Netherworld.

Only now the hero knows the rules and expectations of this realm. He'll need this knowledge to help him evade the pursuit by the Bad Guys.

NOTES ON THE ACTS.

- Each act is the reflection of it's opposite. Realm 1 is the opposite of Realm 3, just as Realm 2 is the flipside of Realm 4. Where in Act One the hero feels relatively safe, secure, and in control, in Act Three he faces mortal danger, uncertainty, discomfort, etc.

- In Act Four, the flight, the helpers of Act Two reverse to become hinderers (revealed to be agents of evil all along), the hinderers of Act Two reverse to become helpers (swapping sides to join the forces of good).

- The development of the hero shows a similar opposition between Act 1 & 3 and Act 2 & 4. In Act One the hero is a powerless orphan; in Act Three he has become a powerful warrior. In Act Two he is a wanderer in the Netherworld, acting on his own behalf and being pulled or lead toward the domain of evil; by Act Four the hero has become a Martyr working for society, leading the way instead of following. (The 4-Act Paradigm)

Three Acts: Get your hero up a tree, throw rocks at him, then get him down

Instead of getting your hero up a tree (first act), throwing rocks at him (creating conflict in the second act) and getting him down (third act) Belzecue suggests that it would be more interesting to whip out a chainsaw in the third act and start cutting the tree down!

And he's probably right. We want to ramp up the conflict, the tension. Belzecue writes:

I swear, if I hear once more that line about "Get your hero up a tree, throw rocks at him, then get him down"... It's a god-awful illustration of the three-act structure and an even worse representation of storytelling. ....

So what on earth does that pithy gem describe, really? I get that the 'up a tree' part stands for Act One: the inciting incident, the trigger, the destabilisation of the hero's world, jeopardy. And I get that the 'rocks' represent Act Two and conflict. It's not mentioned but it's a given that the rocks get larger and meaner with each throw, to create rising conflict.

... then get him down... ?? Is it just me or is that just a teensy bit anti-climactic? As a third act that simply will not do. Not around here.

Having exhausted our supply of rocks, it's time to get serious about making tree-guy suffer. Remember that chainsaw you stole from the set of Evil Dead: Army of Darkness? (Yes, I know about that; No, I never told The Chin, but I think he suspects.) Go get it. Because the writer's job is not to get the hero out of the tree. Your job is to make your protagonists suffer to the point where they have only one way out, where only one thing can transform the suffering into a solution: change.

I'm talking earthquake-fault-line-sized change. I'm talking about straddling the abyss with one foot on either side as it groans and cracks and widens beneath your hero, forcing a decision to go left or right, zig or zag, one way or the other, or do nothing and perish. At that moment, for the hero, standing still is no longer an option.

Change. (The 4-Act Story Diamond, Emphasis mine)

Great articles, and if you haven't already, take a look at his story diagrams here (old one) and here (new one).

Cheers!

Photo credit: "a mongrel rougue" by Robert Couse-Baker under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0.

How To Write A Horror Story

This morning I was writing a horror story and I realized that the structure of a classic horror story is different than the typical hero's journey. 

In this post I ask, and attempt to answer, two questions:

1) What exactly is the structure of a horror story?
2) What is the purpose of a horror story? What is it supposed to accomplish? How will we know whether we've succeeded or failed?

Let's take this in parts.

The Purpose of a Horror Story

What is a good horror story supposed to do? What is its function? That's easy! It's supposed to terrify, or at least deeply disturb. If you're not horrified by the end, then the story could be great and wonderful, but it's not a horror story.

The Structure Of A Horror Story

What are the parts of a horror story?

This is something I'm sure I'll continue to think about over the years, but here's what I've come up with so far. As you can see, I'm adapting Christopher Vogler's take on Joseph Campell's work (see The Hero With A Thousand Faces).

The initial situation/The ordinary world

There are a few parts here.

a. The hero does something normal.

The hero/protagonist is active. 

Perhaps the hero goes on a date, perhaps they meet friends, perhaps they go on a road trip. This is a great place to introduce your characters. Foreshadow the dangers to come.

For example: A mother plays a game of hide-and-seek with her children. (This example is, in part, based on this.)

b. There's a problem

Something goes wrong.

For example: The mother can't find her children. The college students on the road trip get lost. In The Cabin In The Woods the GPS breaks.

At some point in the first act the theme or moral might be stated. For instance, in The Cabin In The Woods, 8.5 minutes into the movie Marty says, "Society needs to crumble, we're all just too chickenshit to let it."

c. Warning

Something happens that would give a reasonable person second thoughts about the wisdom of going forward.

For instance, when college students pull up at a gas station looking for gas and directions they are berated then given directions by someone wearing worn overalls and in dire need of dental work. (A marvelous twist is put on this trope by Tucker and Dale Versus Evil.)

Break into act two: the protagonist makes a choice

It seems to me that the break into act two occurs when the protagonist willfully ignores the warning. And that's the key word, it must be an act of will, the hero must choose to ignore the warning. At least, ordinarily. I'm sure there are horror movies that violate this rule. 

Ordinarily, act two begins when the hero accepts the quest. I guess one way of looking at this is to say that, in a horror story, by ignoring the warning, the hero tacitly accepts the quest.

Initial problem is either solved or changed

Almost immediately upon entering act two the problem changes.

This is another difference from the normal story structure. Usually the problem changes, then the hero accepts the quest.  It seems that in a horror often the hero ignores the warning and then either fulfills their initial goal or the initial goal changes.

For example, in The Cabin, the college students ignore the (implicit) warning and then complete their initial goal of finding the cabin. The cabin, and the area around the cabin, is the Special World of the adventure. At this point they begin exploring the cabin and try to figure out what kind of a place it is.

Other examples: The mother realizes that her kids are missing. Her goal is no longer to find where they're hiding. She knows they're gone. Now her goal is to find out who took her kids and get them back.

Fake solution

Often there is a fake solution. Something happens, an event, and the protagonist feels either that the problem has been solved, or that someone else more skilled/competent is there to handle the crisis.

For example, the mother can't find her children so she calls the police. A suspiciously short time later a police officer arrives, someone she knows, someone who can take care of everything.

Fake villain

Often when there's a fake solution, the protagonist--perhaps with the help of the real villain--begins to suspect one of her friends/allies. The fake threat is contained and the protagonist relaxes. Not long afterward, the real killer reveals himself/herself. Often they reveal themselves by slipping up in some way, for instance revealing information they shouldn't have had, or that only the killer could have had.

Climax

Protagonist and antagonist/villain fight. Usually the protagonist will win, but in a horror that often doesn't happen, not only does the protagonist lose, but their fate is worse than we ever could have imagined.

Don't forget to include a few red shirts which die in horrible, grizzly, so-gross-you-can't-watch ways.

10 Steps To Writing A Horror Screenplay

There are many ways of structuring a horror story.

In Henrik Holmberg's excellent blog post, Horror Movie Scripts - 10 Steps To Writing A Horror Screenplay, he approaches things a bit differently and gives 10 stages. He writes:

A horror movie has certain rules. If you break too many the audience will be disappointed.

This is a very short, no fluff, blueprint of how to write a horror script.

1. The Hook. Start with a bang. Step right into a suspense scene. ("Scream" opens with a terrifying sequence with Drew Barrymore on the phone with a killer)


2. The Flaw. Introduce your hero. Give him a flaw. Before you can put your hero in jeopardy we must care for him. We must want our hero to succeed. So make him human. (In "Signs" Mel Gibson plays a priest who has lost his faith after his wife died)


3. The Fear. A variant of The Flaw. The hero has a fear. Maybe a fear of heights, or claustrophobia. (In "Jaws" Roy Scheider has a fear of water. At the end he has to conquer his fear by going out onto the ocean to kill the shark)


4. No Escape. Have your hero at an isolated location where he can't escape the horror. (Like the hotel in "The Shining")


5. Foreplay. Tease the audience. Make them jump at scenes that appear scary -- but turn out to be completely normal. (Like the cat jumping out of the closet) Give them some more foreplay before bringing in the real monster.


6. Evil Attacks. A couple of times during the middle of the script show how evil the monster can be -- as it attacks its victims.


7. Investigation. The hero investigates, and finds out the truth behind the horror.


8. Showdown. The final confrontation. The hero has to face both his fear and the monster. The hero uses his brain, rather than muscles, to outsmart the monster. (At the end of "The Village" the blind girl tricks the monster to fall into the hole in the ground)


9. Aftermath. Everything's back to the way it was from the beginning -- but the hero has changed for the better or for the worse. (At the end of "Signs" Mel Gibson puts on his clerical collar again -- he got his faith back)


10. Evil Lurks. We see evidence that the monster may return somewhere..somehow..in the future..(Almost all "Friday The 13'th"-movies end with Jason showing signs of returning for another sequel)

Here's another helpful article on the structure of a horror story: An introduction to horror films.

What are you waiting for? Go forth and write a hair-raising, blood-curdling, horror story that would terrify Freddy Krueger.

Have you ever written a horror story? If you have any tips/tricks please share!

Photo credit: "Solitude standing..." by josef.stuefer under Creative Commons attribution 2.0.