Showing posts with label Plot Structure. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Plot Structure. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Your Hobo Sack of Writing Tricks

"Are you a plotter, or a pantser?" 

This question, heard at writers gatherings 'round the world, is the author's version of "Hey baby, what's your sign?" It's how writers get to know each other, how we find compatible associates, maybe even learn a few secrets.

For those not familiar with the terms, "plotters" are authors who like to plot out their books before they sit down to write. "Pantsers" are the opposite: they like to fly by the seat of their pants, just get in there and start writing.

But, whatever category we fall into (and even when we defy categorization), we all have our bag of tricks: those little tidbits we pick up on the way and tuck into our hobo sacks, in case we need them on our writing journeys. Whether we use them or not, it's always good to know they're there.

So, without further ado, I'd like to open up my personal hobo sack and let you take a peek inside: 


Also known as "Save the Cat," Blake Snyder's beat sheet originated as a tool for screenwriting. Using the basic three-act structure, Snyder breaks down this time-honored pattern of storytelling into manageable "beats" that most stories (especially films) usually hit to achieve resonance with the reader (or viewer). This post, by Tim Stout, does an excellent job of explaining the beats, and how they work together to create a satisfying story experience.


Romance writing is a very specific kind of storytelling, and crafting a good romance is hard work. Of course, writing of any kind is a challenge. But to tell a believable love story within the bounds of 250 or so pages, often creating an external plot around which the romance grows, and maintaining tension when everybody knows that the guy and gal will be together in the end? Well, that takes real skill.
 
Thank goodness for paranormal author Jami Gold, who created this Romance Planning Beat Sheet. Taking the basic structure of Blake Snyder's beat sheet (along with other writing tools she credits on her site), Jami has created a template that deals specifically with the evolution of the romantic relationship in your story. And even better, she provides a downloadable spreadsheet that will help you figure out at what point in your story each of these beats should strike. It's an amazing tool. Thanks, Jami!

Hero's Journey

The term "hero's journey" as it relates to fiction was first introduced in 1949 by Joseph Campbell. This series of seventeen steps is especially interesting because it's essentially the place where characterization meets plot. Regardless of who your hero is, or where his adventure takes him, most heroes will pass through very specific phases of development, both internally and externally. Fascinating stuff!

Heroine's Journey 

And let's not forget the ladies! Heroines, just like heroes, have their own mountains to climb and rivers to cross. Laurie Schnebly Campbell did an online workshop about this very subject. Even though I'm not sure or if Laurie plans to do this workshop again, I wanted to share the link with you so you can check it out. And for a list of Laurie's upcoming workshops, email her at LaurieClass-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

3 Acts, 9 Blocks, 27 Chapters

For writers who reeeeeally like to plot, here is a tool that I just tried recently. It breaks your story down into twenty-seven chapters, each touching on a specific phase of story development... and that's pretty much your whole book! It's a really good exercise that made me seriously think about how my story was going to get from the beginning to "the end."

The author even made a YouTube video, which you can check out here:





So, come on, let's see inside that spotted kerchief you carry on a stick over your shoulder! What kind of writing tricks and tips have you picked up along the way?

Monday, April 7, 2014

8 Writing Lessons from Supernatural (Part 2 of 2)

by Misha Crews

Hi, and welcome back! Two weeks ago, we started talking about four writing lessons that we can learn from Supernatural. I hope you enjoyed that post. So without further ado, let's jump right back into it!

5) Know the rules of your universe, and don't break them. In the Supernatural-verse, some of the well-known rules are things like this: ghosts can be "killed" with salt or iron; otherworldly creatures can't cross lines of goofer dust, and if angels get sassy, they can be restrained with circles of fire fueled by holy oil.

http://www.buddytv.com/supernatural/photos/season-8-photos/supernatural-8-21-the-great-escapist-65378.aspx

If you write paranormal or sci-fi, rules are very important. They anchor your story in reality, and establish agreements with your reader.

And even in more conventional writing, rules are very important, especially when it comes to characterization. Let's say your heroine, Judy, hates the color green. If at any point in your story, Judy throws a green shawl around her shoulders, your readers are going to call shenanigans on your writing, unless there's a compelling reason for her to do it. Which brings us to the next lesson:

6) There's an exception for every rule, but there's always a good reason for the exception. Oh-ho! Just when we think we've got things figured out, Supernatural throws us a curve ball. For example, it turns out that celestial beings can be "killed" by holy oil... except for Michael. Holy oil can still harm him, and banish him, but it won't get rid of him altogether, because he's an Archangel and as such is very powerful.

So in our example from 5 above, Judy can rock that green shawl with all her might, as long as we realize that she's doing it to honor the memory of her grandmother, or to show her ex-boyfriend that she's a new woman, or for some other reason that makes sense to your character.

7) Find humor in the darkness. The thing that has impressed me time and time again about Supernatural is how balances humor with tragedy. It's a good lesson to those of us who seek to tell stories: Throw in all the conflict your characters can handle (and more, of course), but for goodness sake, give them some levity, too. The light moments will make the darkness seem all the more poignant.

Some truly hilarious moments from Supernatural are captured in this video:



8) Sometimes we have to say goodbye. What's quickest way to break faith with your readers? Kill off someone they love. What's the greatest accomplishment a writer can achieve? Kill off a beloved character... and still have your audience love your story.

With Supernatural, the writers have put us through the emotional wringer over and over again: In Season 2, Sam and Dean lost their dad. In Season 6, we bid farewell to two of the most awesome chicks you will ever meet: Jo Harvelle and her mom, Ellen. And in Season 7, *sniff sniff* Bobby Singer, the gruff but extremely lovable father figure, died. (I'm seriously not over that.) They've also killed off both Sam and Dean more than once, although the boys always come back: this is one of the advantages to writing paranormal fiction!

In the following scene, Jo has been mortally wounded by a hellhound. She convinces Sam and Dean to let her sacrifice herself by setting off a bomb to distract the hounds while the boys get away to hunt the biggest of the Big Bads: Lucifer, himself. Rather than leave her daughter to face death alone, Ellen stays behind with Jo. No fan can watch this without tearing up, at least a little:



So how can the writers do this to us, and still keep us coming back? It's because the deaths always mean something.They symbolize and reinforce the danger that our heroes are in. They also catalyze our anger as viewers for whatever enemy is currently being faced. And for Sam and Dean, the deaths are part of their maturing process: with every person they lose, they grow a little older and a little wiser, if a lot sadder.

Even if the stakes of your story aren't physical life-and-death, we can still kill off elements of our characters that they thought they could never do without. From our running example: Judy never thought she'd like the color green, because it reminded her of her grandmother's death. But through the trials she experiences during the course of the story, she realizes that it's not the color itself which she hates, but the memory of the loss. So she lets go of her bias and dons her green shawl in defiance of all those negative emotions which had been running her life.

(This is kind of a silly example, but it could actually be pretty poignant if Judy were a painter, and was finally able to paint the green field where she'd played as a child.)



So, there we have it: eight lessons that we can learn from this long-running and widely-loved television show. (Or as I like to think of it: eight reasons to watch Supernatural when I could be doing something else.) Do any of these lessons ring true for you? And do you have any writing lessons you've learned from your favorite TV show? We'd love to hear about it!

Monday, March 24, 2014

8 Writing Lessons from Supernatural (Part 1 of 2)

by Misha Crews

I was first introduced to Supernatural by my friend Michelle Carlbert, who I met at Comicon in 2010. If you're not familiar with it, the show is about two ridiculously handsome brothers cruising around in a vintage car slaying demons. (I write this with tongue firmly planted in cheek: that's pretty much the premise of the show, but it transcends that shallow description.) The brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester, are played with heartfelt authenticity by Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles. Although the concept seemed fun, I kind of doubted that there would be much artistic merit in the show itself. I was wrong about that (first time for everything) and I've made up for that error by talking about Supernatural at pretty much every available opportunity to anybody who will hold still long enough to listen.

After reading Nicole Christoff's post Muppets and More, and  Evie Owen's post on the movie It's Complicated, I started pondering the ways in which popular television and movies have influenced my writing. And since I'm going to my very first Supernatural convention in May, this seemed like the perfect time to dive into the lessons I've learned from a show which has become an unexpected source of inspiration.

1. The core is in the classics. In the case of Supernatural, this means urban legends and religious mythology. And in modern popular fiction, we've seen a huge resurgence in mythologies over the past few years: vampires, super heroes, werewolves. We've also seen the classics being resurrected over and over again: especially with books like Rebecca, Pride and Prejudice, and A Christmas Carol. And of course, how many times have we read modern versions of Shakespeare? Not just Romeo and Juliet, but Hamlet, Taming of the Shrew, and too many others to mention? Incorporating the classics allows an artist to touch a nerve that resonates on many different levels with her audience, whether that means viewers or readers.

In this clip from the show, Sam and Dean slay a dragon. It doesn't get much more classic and mythic than that!




2. Don't be afraid to go deep. Over the nine years that Supernatural has been on the air, Sam and Dean have been to both Heaven and Hell – literally. And they've saved the world on at least three occasions (probably more – apologies to the superfans out there for not knowing the exact number!) In a show where the protagonists have battled every type of entity, from angels to demons and back again, you'd think that their interior highs and lows might not be that important for the writers. Not so. One thing that this show definitely demonstrates is how the plot's external ups and downs are mirrors of the characters internal ups and downs (and vice versa).




3. Conflict, conflict everywhere. Writers are always taught that conflict is the fuel on the fire of any great story, and Supernatural knows how to work conflict into their plots. Personalities clash at the least convenient times, and old hurts are woven seamlessly into new plot twists. In this clip from Season 1, Sam and Dean have an argument that encapsulates their entire history up to this point. As a result of the argument, the brothers split up for the remainder of the episode, and that period of separation has ramifications which we're still feeling today, nine seasons later.

 

4. Family is not just the heart of the story, it's also the bones. The heart of this show is the relationship between Sam and Dean. The family bond is is both their greatest strength and their most dangerous weakness.

And in addition to influencing the characters, the individual episodes and season-wide story arcs are also built around family. The brothers are together, then apart. They're at odds, then in accord. In fact, the entire first season was structured around the two of them reuniting after a long rift and looking for their father. So family is not just the heart, it's also the bones: it's the structure around which the framework is constructed.

Here's a video that emphasizes the importance of family in this show. And it's interesting to note that the family isn't just restricted to blood relations. As Bobby Singer (the wonderful Jim Beaver) so eloquently says, "Family don't end with blood."




On Monday, April 7, we'll be back with lessons five through eight. In the meantime: are you a Supernatural fan? In what way do you think the show has influenced your writing?

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Sustainable Conflict and Believable Setbacks

I got a lot out of Michael Hauge’s two-day seminar last weekend. More than I’d gleaned four years ago when he visited WRW the first time. I think his presentation is better today than it was back in 2008. Well worth the money I spent. He’s refined his material and deepened the concepts.

One of the biggest points to hit home for me was that all story must elicit a positive emotional journey for the reader/viewer and that emotion flows out of conflict. If I think about the books I read and the movies I watch, this is definitely true. When I say positive, I don’t mean all happy-go-lucky. But a journey that strings me a long and draws me into sustainable conflicts and believable barriers and setbacks, as well as triumphs. I want to experience the highs and lows with the protagonist. And I want to experience her growth over the arc of the story.

Readers pick up books and movies for the emotional journey. They want to lose themselves in the stories of someone else for a little while. At the hands of skilled writers, we find ourselves laughing, cheering, cringing, and crying with the best of them. It’s the credible twists and turns, confrontations, conflict, and successes of a character that allow us to experience universal truths that resonate with us all and showcase what makes us human. In his book, Writing Screenplays That Sell, Hauge says: “People do not go to movies so they can see the characters on screen laugh, cry, get frightened, or get turned on. They go to have those experiences themselves.”

I’d argue this is why we see certain movies and why we read certain books--because we enjoy the emotional journey that particular genre gives us. The tropes or reader/viewer expectations of that particular genre draw us like a magnet and speak to us in a satisfying way. I read books across the spectrum of genre fiction and enjoy them, however, I adore romance novels. And romance novels are the novels I choose to write.

No matter what the characters go through in a story, no matter what their personal arc, in a romance I know I will not get a tragic ending. While I know the ending will be happy, it’s the believable setback or the point where all hope is lost that makes me worry that these two characters won’t get their happy ending. Will the character be courageous enough to push through that final setback to find their happy ending? Or will they revert to their old life, the status-quo where they live a desperate life of mediocrity trapped by their fears? Isn’t it the secret hope we all cling to in life? That we’ll make a difference and that when adversity strikes that we’ll rise to the challenge and push through to find triumph?

The importance of getting this final setback right in a story and pinpointing an emotional journey directed at a particular audience hit me hard twice in the past two days. First, as I sat watching The Proposal with my youngest son and then as I sat watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part II with my middle son. At the point of the final setback where all hope is lost for the protagonist, in each case, I heard my son sniffling.

These are two totally different movies. Drastically different stories. However, in each case, that final setback spoke to that teenager. So much so that the setback moved them to tears. In The Proposal when Margaret realizes she’s forgotten what it means to be part of a family and then admits to a roomful of people that she blackmailed Andrew into marrying her and then she runs back to New York, she sets off a whole series of events that show the other characters how much she truly loves Andrew to give him up and give him the life she believes he deserves. The audience is rooting for them. We know they’re perfect for each other. And when all hope is lost, we worry for them.

In the recent Harry Potter movie, the final setback where all hope is lost is where Harry realizes he’s the eighth horcrux and he must sacrifice himself--he must die--at Voldemort’s hand. J. K. Rowling is masterful. She makes us truly believe that all hope is lost--that Harry dies and all is lost. When I read the book for the first time, I sobbed uncontrollably at this point. The author builds a credible setback that rips our hearts out and makes us believe that this teenaged boy will not triumph.

And it’s this mastery of sustainable conflict and believable setbacks that prove the hallmark of a great writer--a writer who provides a satisfying emotional journey for her readers/viewers.

So what stories have worked for you on that emotional level? And tell us the genre.