Larry Brooks's Blog, page 44

NaNoWriMo #24: Sharpen Your Hook

We've covered the notion of a "hook" before.  But now, after you're down the road with your concept and (hopefully) have a functioning beat sheet underway, I'll wager you know way more about your story than before.

Which is the very best time to revisit your opening chapter, or Prologue, to make sure your hook will draw blood.

If I was right — that you really do know way more about your story than you did when you first started planning it — it proves the entire point of story planning.  As the plan evolves, the scenes you've put in place on your beat sheet evolve.  They get better.  They get swapped for better ideas and/or moved around.

Hard to do in a draft.  Really easy to do at the beat sheet or outline level.

A hook, especially in the form of a Prologue, is often something that allows a peek at what's going on in the story well down the road.  That's the definition of a Prologue, by the way — it previews a tense moment in the story, and/or, it glimpses a context-setting event that may never actually appear in the story, but sets the stage for it.  

A strategically-conceived first chapter can head in that direction, too.

Either way, Prologue or chapter, the mission of your first pages is to reveal something so compelling, so delicious, so disturbing or provocative, that the reader can't help but want to keep going.  It's usually plot-related, but it can be character-driven as well, introducing a hero so cool and interesting that you just have to see what kind of experience you are about to share with her or him.

Start big.  Start strategic.  You should be mission-driven from page one. 

Let there be examples.

Sometimes we can define a concept for weeks, but it doesn't really sink in until you see it executed.  So here you go.

The links below take you to four different hooks from four books written by a published author and writing teacher. 

Three are Prologues, one is a first chapter that actually could have been a Prologue.  Please notice how they ask a question or two — what does this mean?  What happened to get to this?  What happens after this? — and in a way that, by design and objective, propels the reader forward to get the answers.

The first is from an as yet unpublished novel…

… the sequel to a critical home run (a Publishers Weekly best-books-of-the-year honoree).  It's a Prologue that doesn't even have the protagonist in it, and actually is sequenced before the story begins, thus providing context (and some serious character motivation) down the road.  CLICK HERE to read it.

If you are shocked, then the author succeeded.  It was part of the strategy.  If you are curious, then the mission was successful.

The second is the Prologue from my USA Today bestseller, "Darkness Bound"…

…which unfolds in two parts.  Yes, you can have a two-part Prologue… CLICK HERE to see it done.

An effective strategy is to really jack the hatred factor for your antagonist.  A good place to do this is in your opening pages… that was the strategy here.  Hopefully you're already rooting for the good guys, while perhaps squeamishly intrigued by the femme fatale..

The third is from a novel originally published as "Pressure Points"…

… (it's been republished under the title, "The Seminar," a total arena story), with a Prologue that is a glimpse/preview of a tense story that doesn't actually happen until the Part 4 resolution section of the story.  It's mission is clear: make you want to read how this came to pass.  CLICK HERE to read it.

The fourth is from my most successful novel, "Bait and Switch." 

As described above, it's an event that happens apart from the thread of the narrative, but is the catalyst for everything in the narrative.  CLICK HERE to read this one.

You see how bad the bad guys are, and the McGuffin, while undefined, hopefully takes a compelling form.

A coaching tip…

Read these differently than you might as, well, a reader.  Read them analytically, in the context of research and learning.  I'm not claiming these are iconic in any way, but I do feel they're clean and clear examples of the mission-driven nature of a hook… and… well, let's just say I had no trouble securing the reprint rights for these sample chapters.

Reading this way, with an analytical, deconstruction-oriented filter, is one of the most empowering things a writer can do.  It works best — by a long shot — when you're schooled in the principles of story architecture, because you'll recognize it when you see it, in the same way that a structural engineer sees things that you don't when driving across a bridge, or a pilot notices things that you don't (maybe a good thing) while sitting next to you in coach.

My hope is you'll use this as a machine lathe to sharpen your hook, which is one of the most critical elements of your story.  Enjoy… and get pumped.

NaNoWriMo #24: Sharpen Your Hook is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com

Guest Post: Dave Monroe on… Story Coaching

A short, self-conscious intro from Larry:

Here's my morning: the wife and I go for a power walk.  I'm a little quiet, she asks why.  I tell her I'm mulling todays' NaNoWriMo post, and one other thing.  She asks what.  I tell her that one of my favorite Storyfix guys submitted a guest post, at my request.  Didn't tell him what to write about, he had carte blanche.  

He wrote it, then sent it, I didn't read it.  To busy with this NaNoWriMo series.  But I did plan to run it, because I said I would, and because Dave is… well, you'll see.  And, it's been a while.

Dave Monroe and I have been working on his novel together — my role: story coach, with two passes and a handful of exchanges in between) for a few months now.  I have to say, Dave is one of the most gifted voices I've encountered.  As good as anyone publishing mysteries and thrillers today.  The fastest, strongest kid at the pro tryout.  If we can get this story right, sky's the limit for him.  So it's been a pleasure and an honor to be involved.

On my walk I decided to run his guest post this morning, as a bit of a break from the NaNoWriMo focus.  And because it sucks to write something and then not hear back. 

And then, this morning after the walk, I actually read it.  And that's my problem… you'll see what I mean when you read it.  A cynic — I know you're out there — might feel that running this is over-the-top self-serving of me.  That Dave is returning a favor with some quid pro quo.   He assures the reader that none of this was solicited, so that base is covered adequately and accurately.

So here it is.  Still makes me uneasy. 

There is value here, not so much about me, but about the process.  The availability of inspiration and knowledge that resides outside yourself, while unlocking the writer within.  My hope here is that this view, this endorsement, will open you to this NaNoWriMo series in an empowered way, that you'll go back and soak it all in, again, and if you need to read my book you will, and that as a result, when November 1st arrives, you'll be salivating over your story plan.

I promise you a killer NaNoWriMo post later today.  But for now, if what Dave says helps trash any limiting beliefs you cling to, this may be the most important post yet in this series.  Enjoy.

A Guest Post from Dave Monroe

I want to get one thing straight – I'm not getting paid to say any of this. 

No kickbacks, no sweet deals, no nothing.  Why am I'm kicking off like this?  Because what I'm about to say may come off as ad-speak bullshit.  But it's the truth, and nothing but the truth.

Larry Brooks is the best thing that's ever happened to me as a writer.

No joke, the guy saved my story-ass, and then some.

And to think I found him by accident.  One night, in a book store, scanning the how-to writing books, I saw his book, STORY ENGINEERING.  I pulled the book off the shelf, and flipped through the pages. 

I went to the chapter 30, The Most Important Moment in Your Story.  I figured I'd give what's-his-name a chance to sell me on his book, otherwise I'd dump it, like I'd dumped so many others.

And what I read blew me away.  I've read stacks of garbage on plot points, midpoints, inciting incidents, and on and on and on.  But when I read Brooks, he got me by the balls.  It was flat out the BEST explanation I'd ever read on plot-point one, or any plot point. 

So I bought the book, read it some crazy ass fashion, skipping from this chapter to that, and everything I read was like ah-ha moments on steroids. I sucked dry two yellow highlighters with my manic underlining, then switched to a ball point and drained it, too.

Man, who was this guy?  I had to know.  So I hopped on his website, locked in with his style, and – well, this is the part I can't explain. 

Let me back up a bit. 

I had one novel, BLOOD DANCE, published years back.  Some mean life-gumbo got in the way of my writing, but that's another story.  I've written other novels.  They're in the attic, being revered by a big audience, an audience of not even one.

But here's the thing – I've always worked alone, like too alone and for too long, like nobody would see a single word until after a year or two of writing.  By the time I showed someone my work played out, dead, just give me a match please.  I had nothing left, and I hadn't even made it to the fourth quarter.  

So the day I was on Brooks' website, I saw the Click Here tab, the one that led to the blah-blah on his coaching.  I clicked through, got the low down, and it hit me – maybe I should give this coaching a try, send this guy the novel I'm working on now ("The Get-back Job," a partial is posted on the peer review section).

I always heard, when the student is ready, the teacher arrives.  Yeah, yeah – I don't put much stock in fortune cookies. But something was going on, because I decided to give Brooks a try and let him coach me.

I sent him my first hundred pages and a behemoth of an outline, and I got back an even more behemoth of a coaching document back.

Brooks had read my submission three (3!) times, and put together a 16 page coaching document.  At first it felt like knockout punch.  To stay with the boxing metaphor – I lay on the mat, praying not to see double, letting what he'd said soak in, and my focus snapped back, and I got up before the ten count.

And it came to me, like I already told you – this guy just saved my story-ass! He probably saved me from a year or more rejections. 

It was brilliant the he handled his coaching document.  He let me know what worked with me as a writer, and what didn't work with my story.  That's critical – he let me know I had the stuff to be in the game, and that gave me the drive to roll up my sleeves and work harder on a story that was way out of the game

Let me just say, for the record – the story was bonkers, lost in sub-plots signifying what-the-hell-is-going-on-here-anyways?  It would've been easier if the story only signified nothing.

But, back to Brooks – the guy doesn't quit.  Even in our seemingly ho-hum, back and forth emails, he dropped gold bricks on me.

In one email he turned me onto a writer, Nelson DeMille.  DeMille is now one my kingpins that I model.  I don't sweat leaning on great writers. Hunter Thompson copied, by hand, hundreds and hundreds of pages of Dickens.  If HT was okay with leaning, then I sure as hell can be.

In another emails, Brooks told me story planning is the most right brain part of the creative process.  Meaning, stories can be fixed.  Or in my case, my mess of a story could be cleaned up.  Damn, what a relief.

And in another email, Brooks tossed me one idea.  He told me it's the single most important thing he's learned as a writer.  I ran with it and redrafted everything.

It gave every chapter eye-pop, drive, and burn. A friend of mine Shelly Stoehr, talented novelist (CROSSES) read the rewrite and said it reminded her of James Patterson.  So I'm okay with that. Patterson is only the bestselling novelist in the world these days.

But the most important thing I learned from Brooks – I can't do this alone.  When I'm writing I get too wrapped up in the dream I'm dreaming.  I get too close to my story, I lose all objectivity.  I get lost in space – danger, danger Will Robinson on crank.  And I burn myself out.

If I don't have someone setting eyes on my writing, it's no different than being in a padded room with a typewriter.  Not to put it down, it may be a good career – I could sell my unpublished novels as drawer stuffers at flea markets.  Rejection slips make nice wallpaper for bathrooms, especially if they're pink.

But if I want to make payday, this is the gig – I NEED another set of eyes on my work, so I can find out what's working and what's not.  And I want that set of eyes on my work as early in the game as possible.

Larry Brooks has the best set of "other eyes" I've ever come across.  I love the guy.

And here's a secret – the one thing that almost fucked me up and kept me from getting started with Brooks was fear.  There's no getting over fear, there's only going through it, and on the other side of fear, it's all magic.

So let's talk about magic. 

As I'm writing this, it's coming to me, I've used Brooks in ways I haven't even told him about.  He's hearing about this for the first time, too.

I took a workshop given by agent on how to find an agent.  I'd never written a query letter, so I was sweating it.  Then I decided to I'd roll up the query letter with what I'd learned from Brooks.

So I outlined my query letter according to Brooks – a set-up box one, first plot point, a reactive box two, pinch points, midpoints, pinch points, an active box three, an all is lost moment, a willing-to-die box four, and so forth.  Each story pillar got a slug line in my query letter.

In the workshop we read our pitches out loud.  Before I got halfway through reading my letter, the agent wanted to see the book. 

Actually, it was kind of a problem, because I haven't finished the book.  But she's now read the opening hundred pages, the synopsis, and is waiting for me to finish. Maybe she's the one, maybe not, doesn't matter.  These days I have no doubts getting published will happen, and work out wilder than I've ever imagined. 

And for that, I'll be forever thankful to Larry Brooks.

So I don't who you are, or where you're at.  But if you're hemming and hawing, sitting on the fence about using a writing coach – just do it, and do it as fast as you can. 

Let Brooks coach you.  I'm sure he can help you turn your writing dream into a reality, into a hardcover book on the shelf, into a movie on the big screen – or why not both?  That's what I'm gunning for, and Brooks is helping me.

 Why not let him help you, too?

To your very best writing success,

David Monroe 

 

Guest Post: Dave Monroe on… Story Coaching is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com

NaNoWriMo #23: Harness the Power of 'Resentment'

Ever wonder what separates a great book from the pack?  The published from the unpublished?

The question becomes perhaps more intriguing when you consider that, when it comes to modern commercial fiction (novels and movies), most stories unfold from pretty much the same architectural paradigm, imbued the requisite properties reaching for universal criteria.

That fact alone is empowering and challenging.  Some writers reject this, and thus, their works may end up being less than commercial, which in turn leads to… self-publishing at best. 

If you want into the game, you have to know the game and play by its rules.

Stories are like human faces, we all have the same dozen or so properties properties and variable.  If you have two noses, you're a freak show, you can forget about a career as a model (analogous, perhaps, to being published and read).  And yet, with billions of us on the planet, how often do we encounter an exact replica?  And when we do, once we look inside at the inner person, even those similarites vanish.

We are all unique.  As are our stories.  Even though both are assembled from the same stuff.

So if it's all the same, what is the difference between good and great? 

With stories, those in-common things comprise craft.  What separates the great from the mundane is art.  You can execute craft, within the boundaries of professional and commercial expectations, in all sorts of ways, some more appealing that others.

And that becomes the art behind the craft.

When it comes to art, there is an entire grad school year full of tools, opportunities and tricks-of-the-trade that the Big Guys know and implement, and the rest of us either strive for or completely miss.

You think hitting the basics is hard?  Wait until you wrap your head around the subtle stuff.

One of the most powerful aspects of a highly successful story is hero/characater motivation. 

Not just the stakes behind the win-or-lose nature of their story journey, but the driving inner landscape that define who the character really is, and thus, what they do.

And one of the most powerful of those forces is resentment.

Most of us resent something.  From our past, in our culture, in politics, in specific people.   The list can be quite long.

In my workshops I sometimes ask writers — before I introduce this concept — to make a roster of everything they resent, no holds barred.  Mothers and fathers and politicians and greedy rich people usually populate the list.  Sometimes they resent their kids (ties them down), their jobs (unfair, trapped), their DNA (too short, too tall, don't look enough like George Clooney).

But there's the unexpected, too.  The deeper you go, the more gold there is to leverage as a writer.

They I ask them to consider how they respond to those resentments.  They vote Democrat.  They don't drink.  They do drink.  They ignore their partner.  They avoid crowds.  Whatever.  There are actions attached to resentments.

When you study human behavioral psychology — and if you're serious about writing fiction, you should, even at the Dr. Phil level, which is actually quite illuminting – you'll see that resentment is a palpable, surface motivator.  And, it is the spark that ignites a chain of behaviors that, while not seeming like resentment at the time, begin with a seed of unresolved resentment.

What ensues from resentment? 

Resentment leads to resistence… which in turn can lead to revenge.

Now we have a story.

Think about what this means to your stories.  Not just the ones you're writing, but the ones you've loved to read.

Bad guys often resent authority.  They resent structure.  They resent being controlled. They resent being poor, being fired, being lazy.  They are bitter.  They resist a healthier past, they resent positive choices because the negative ones are so available and, to them, easier.  Selfishness is the offspring of resentment.  So is cruelty.  So is laziness.  And so they act from this inner landscape to steal, to abuse, to scheme and to kill.

Same with good guys.  At the beginning of character arc your hero may have issues that need to be resolved in the course of your narrative to empower them to become the primary catalyst in the resolution of the story (this being an essential context for how a great story ends).  They may, in fact, have the same unresolved resentments as do the bad guys, but with different choices going forward.

They choose positive, a higher moral ground, over easy and available.

Resentment doesn't define good and bad.  Decisions, behavior and action do.  It's how characters respond to their inner landscape that juices a story to a level worthy of success.

Want to test this?

Let's look at marriage, the wheelhouse of the vicious resentment-resistence- revenge cycle.

Let's say a husband is caught cheating with a hooker.  That alone, from his perspective, is likely the outcome of this cycle (he resents his wife's lack of passion, or her intolerance of his kinky desires), but while it's important (as an author) to recognize that there are two separate cycles in play here, let's look at it from the wife's point of view. 

She's hurt.  She resents what he did.  She resents him, in addition to what he did. 

From that resentment she resists intimacy.  Withholds affection (a form of resistence).  Resists being his life partner in both big picture and daily ways.  Resists moving forward in a positive manner.  It's just too easy, too gratifying, to hate this guy.

Finally, with all that resistence borne of resentment, they grow apart.  She feels justified in her coldness, because after all, he was the schmuck who cheated.  She's snarky, unforgiving… directly because of her resentment.  And then one day she meets a handsome stranger (who looks a lot like George Clooney).  The flesh is weak, and so she sleeps with him. 

On the surface of her justification  is revenge.  But when you go deeper, you find her own needs liberated (from resistence), and in turn, the seed of it all… her resentment. 

None of this happens if she makes different decisions from that initial point of resentment.

Your story is full of decisions and actions. 

And most of them — perhaps all of them — can be connected in a psychological sense back down through the cycle in reverse: action… springing from the need for revenge… springing from resisting healing and loving… in turn arising from some form of resentment.

Real life complicates these decisions and thus disguises them… but if you break it down, this cycle is almost always there in some form.

And all of it is… motivation.  Which is the emotional engine of an effective story.  Nothing moves without it.

Implementing this with a light, functionally-veiled touch is the art of writing fiction.

Look back at the stories you love and see how this psychology comes into play. 

Look at Harry Bosch, Michael Connelly's iconic detective hero.  Is he movitated by his job description?  Sure.  Is he motivated by injustice and the need to right wrongs?  Sure.  But why?  Look at that, at the psychology of why he chose this profession instead of truck driving or baking cookies, and you'll see a deeper, illuminating backstory at the heart of his true motivations.

As you will for all compelling heroes and villains.

As you craft your protagonist and bad guy (in whatever form) for your NaNoWriMo story, ask yourself what makes the character tick. 

What is the chain of events that may have resulted from resentment of some kind… where did that resentment come from… how has the character handled it… what has the character resisted (i.e., some cops don't want a promotion, or go on the take, because they resent guys in suits)… how does that resistence manifest… and what ultimately constitutes revenge in the the form of decisions and actions?

How your character navigates this complex psychological landscape is the stuff of compelling fiction.

How an author implements it is the art of writing compelling fiction, stories that stand out not just because of stellar core competencies, but from emotional resonance and reader empathy, both of which are issues of underlying story physics.  Which, in literature, is all psychological.

Shoot for this, with a light touch, and do it in your story planning if you can.  When you meet your hero on the page, you'll be amazed at how nuanced and clever you will be with the decisions and actions you give him/her.

NaNoWriMo #23: Harness the Power of 'Resentment' is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com

NaNoWriMo #22: Stare Down Your Limiting Beliefs

If you've noticed an element of "self-help" seminar in this series, you're right. 

Part of writing a novel — especially under the contrived constraints and faux sense of winning or losing that is NaNoWriMo — is indeed as much about how you think, what you believe to be true about yourself and about the writing craft, as it is about your protagonist or your concept or your skill. 

Which means you need to optimize that — the way you think – as much as you need to optimize your creative choices.

I hear from people all the time about what I write here, and what I've written in my book, "Story Engineering."  For the most part the feedback is gracious and appreciative, even when my penchant for analogies or a cynical perception of my tone irritates (based on Amazon reviews, that's about 1 out of 5) doesn't hit home. 

Some people mistake passion and urgency for… well, other things.

Part of the reason some find me irritating — notice I said "part," I'm not dodging or defending, though I could and I often want to – is that I'm challenging their limiting beliefs about writing fiction.

"Nobody's gonna tell me how to write, damn it, there ain't no rules anyhow, this is art!"

That's what all the dead pilots said about flying, too, before the Wright brothers figured out the physics.  Just sayin'.

With writing, a few of the common limiting beliefs often include:

- Those guys in the bookstore, they're way more talented than me.

Probably not.  What they are is way on the other side of "getting it" where story physics and architecture are concerned.  This is a learnable trade.  No gene pool required.

 - I can just sit down and write a great novel out of my head (which is, a) doubtful, b) naive, c) ignorant, and d) arrogant) without knowing my ending, milestones or caring about 4-part narrative and character arcing. 

Maybe.  First question I would ask of you is… how many successful novels have you actually written that way?

If that's what you believe, the truth behind "great" and "not so great" is that such a draft — especially a first draft — is really a means, a step, in your search for story.  And it can work. 

But it rarely — like, with DNA-test certainty — works with a first draft.  Because only when the writer knows the major expositional arc and has an end-target for the story solidly in mind can a draft actually work, to an extend it's a polish away from submittable. 

That, too, happens, all the time, in fact.  But only when you apply the principles of story architecture (what I call the Six Core Competencies) to that process. 

Those principles are universal.  They aren't mine.  I only put a fence around them and slapped on some labels.  We can argue process for years if you want, but these principles, benchmarks, physics and elements… non-negotiable.  From Shakespeare to Asimov to Hammet to King to Franzen… to you, to everybody… non-negotiable.

Stephen King may be the Grand Pubah of pantsers, but even he doesn't write a first draft that works in doing so.  Close, I'm sure (he is Stephen King, after all).  But more likely, when an idea hits him mid-draft, he immedately retrofits and revises what' s already on the page to make the new whole function within the principles of his structure.  This is a way to get to a viable first draft… just not within a 30-day window. 

Do you know those principles?  If you think you do, but you really don't… that's a killer limiting belief.

- I can't outline, it ruins the creative experience for me.

That's exactly like someone saying, "I can't stay on a diet," or, "I can't quit smoking."  That's not true, it's a choice being made, couched as truth.  It' s the longer and harder road, the definition of insanity (you want different results but refuse to do things differently).  If suffering is paramount to your writing experience, then by all means dive in without planning anything.

It's naive and limiting because, even if you draft, you are, in fact, engaged in a form of outlining, which is itself just a form of the search for story.

If you can' t outline in the traditional sense, fine.  I'm not saying you must.  There are many ways to write a novel.  But all effective stories require certain elements and have certain criteria, which begin with the aforementioned search for the story (however you get there), and demonstrate the benchmarks of execution.

A draft that successfully finds the story is, in effect, a long, heavily worded outline.  So you're stuck with outlining whether you want to call it that or not, or like it or not.  When you realize this is true, it all becomes semantics, and suddenly you are on the same page as writers who do, in fact, write publishable, readable fiction. 

You're sitting in front of a screen with your choices. whatever they are.

 Accept your preference as a choice, and then accept that your draft is — exactly like the outlining process — merely a vehicle in the search for your story.  The poison of this limiting belief that it isn't, and it kicks in when you believe the early draft you've written this way (when it's actually, in spite of what you think, actually nothing other than, nothing more than, a story search tool) is, in fact, already structurally sound. 

You can set out to drive from Los Angeles to Miami, and then when you reach Dallas decide you want to go to Montreal instead, via Montana (because the idea hit you somewhere along I-10)… but you can't take that route in a story.  At least not at the professional level. 

And that is what you're striving for… right? 

This limiting belief can and will kill your dream.

- I can't write a first draft — and NaNoWriMo always, at best, yields a lame first draft — that works, that's a polish away from submittable.

Not true.  Not if you go about it in context to planning that takes place according to principles of story architecture.  You'll be shocked at how good your first draft will be if you know only a handful of principles and structural milestones and apply them with discipline.

- Planning is hard, it's easier to just write a draft.

You've never heard me claim that planning makes this easier.  It is hard.  It can take weeks and months of juggling creative alternatives before you can string them together into the right story.

You still have time before NaNoWriMo.  Start your beat sheet… now.

- It's been done before, I can't write something fresh.

Wrong.  Unless you wrote it, it hasn't been done before. 

Every mystery and romance ever written has, in some ways, been done before.  There are only a few plot models out there (seven is the accepted number… everything is just a variation on one of them).  It's your touch, your nuance, and your execution that will be fresh.  And even if it isn't completely new territory, strive to make it delicious and you'll still succeed.

Sometimes you just want a great hamburger.  A traditional burger, well cooked and well dressed.  Original?  Nope.  Worth the four to ten bucks you'll plunk down to get one?  Absolutely.  And you'll keep coming back for more.  Because it's so yummy.

If you can't write a gourmet feast with a recipe of your own invention, write a great hamburger.  The market for that will never go away.

- I can't really write a NaNoWriMo draft that's worth anything anyway, this is just "to see if I can do it."  For fun.

How do you define "it"?  And how do you define "fun"?

I'm hoping that, for you, both words mean the writing of a draft that is, in fact, viable, something not so far off the mark (more than a big pile of words) that you can actually, and with passion, keep pounding on them come December with the confidence that it was all worth the effort. 

A 10-year old can pour 50,000 words onto paper in 30 days.  Sorry if that sounds harsh, but it's true. If that's your idea of "winning," I wish you well.  It's a low bar.  Unless you write something that works, what have you really accomplished?

Thinking that what I just said there is crazy and wrong… that's a limiting belief.

Get honest with yourself and seek to separate fear and lethargy from truth and capacity.  And then step into those fears and defy your limiting beliefs with the confidence that comes from having the right tools, creative context, frame of mind and a target worth pursuing… and you'll find your NaNoWriMo to be much more of a gift than it was a burden.

Tomorrow: A cool little trick to give your main characters depth and motivation.

If you're into self-help workshops… I used that arena in my novel, originally published as "Pressure Points," and recently re-published on Kindle (and other formats) as "The Seminar."  The novel is an example of how to harness the power of arena, and it may actually mess with your head in ways that both entertain and give pause.

 

 

NaNoWriMo #22: Stare Down Your Limiting Beliefs is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com

NaNoWriMo #21: Still Struggling with Your 'Concept'?

Let there be peace of mind.

First of all, nobody said this would be easy.  If you think you're struggling now, at the planning stage, right there at square one, just imagine that it's the middle of November and you still don't have a viable concept in play.  That you've written about 20,000 words that don't connect to a story spine.

Not good.  So stay with it here in the planning stage.  It'll happen for you. 

At the very least, no matter how hard this feels, you should strive to arrive at November 1st with not just a story idea, but a developed, vetted concept that sets the stage for the unfolding of a dramatic narrative.  It'll be worth the anxiety, I promise you.

And just to remind you… an unfolding dramatic narrative is the goal.  Your story isn't a character sketch, a backstory, a true accounting of events… it's a hero with a problem or a need or an opportunity, facing obstacles, and then overcoming them to bring about a conclusion.  That's the goal.

And to reach it you need a concept.

A draft-ready concept is more than an idea. 

Some folks begin the whole process with an idea that is already a concept… good on them. 

But if that's not you, if your concept still eludes… remember that a concept is merely an expanded idea best expressed as a "what if?" question (thus demanding an answer, which becomes your story) that marries character with quest (need, problem and/or goal) in the face of opposition (if there's not opposition there's no conflict, and if there's no conflict there is no story), all of it in context to stakes.

The power of stakes is what makes a story work.  It's what represents the underlying physics of your story.  Without stakes, nobody cares.  And without conflict, nobody reads.

Staple that to your forehead.

Here's today's tip, if you're still wrestling with your concept. 

It's twofold: first, determine if what you're struggling with is the definition of what a concept is and what it means… or if you get it but you're simply missing one at this point.

Each of those has a separate solution.  To the first… keep reading here.  Go back in this post (the definition is already here)… go back in this series…go into the archives… concept is everywhere here.  It may be much simpler than you're trying to make it. 

If you're missing an idea that starts your motor, try this: go to a bookstore. 

Take a notepad. 

Pick up as many novels as you can and read the back cover and/or dust jacket copy.  Stick to your genre in doing this.  The concept for that story will be there.  You'll see a hero/protagonbist introduced (often with a bit of pre-Plot Point context), you'll notice that the hero has a problem to solve or a goal to reach (which will connect to that First Plot Point, which just might jump out at you), and you'll get a sense of what stands in the way of the hero reaching that goal. 

That's it.  That's concept.  Read a few dozen book covers and you'll get the drift, and your creative mind will kick in.  You'll find yourself juxtaposing what you already have with new possibilities for your story.

If you're a writer seeking answers in context to these principles, it'll happen.  It can't help but happen.  Some writers have to get into a draft to really find and fall in love with a concept… that's fine… it's just that with NaNoWriMo you don't have that luxury.  The goal is to nail your concept before you begin your actual draft on November 1.

If you can't get one by November 1, I suggest you delay starting the draft until you do.  You can make up for lost time as the month progresses.  Your concept is that important, at least if you intend to use the month to create something that actually works.

And once you have it, and a beat sheet that flows from it, 50,000 words will be no problem, even if you have fewer than 30 days.  Trust the process.

Once you do land on a concept, you may find yourself with a new problem: whittling it all down (or building it up, maybe both) to an optimal concept, one that plays right into your wheelhouse as a writer, a person, a reader and as someone who simply needs a conceptual, contextual starting point. 

For that there are dramatic physics and six core competencies to help you… all of it here for the taking.

NaNoWriMo #21: Still Struggling with Your 'Concept'? is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com

NaNoWriMo #20: To Edit or Not to Edit…

… that may not be the right question.

Perhaps the most omnipresent, simplistic advice circling the NaNoWriMo world is this: don't edit as you write.  Never hit the backspace key. 

The implication is that you should just keep typing, madly, passionately, and hopefully with the right goal in mind.

This advice is everywhere, endorsed by "winners" of NaNoWriMo.

Today's tip: put a filter on that advice.  And keep reading here.

The right goal shouldn't be 50,000 unvetted, randomly assembled words.  The right goal is 50,000 words that actually work as a story. 

It's the difference between a pile of rocks and a beautiful, sturdy rock wall assembled around a garden.

I'm not going to attempt to contradict the do-not-edit advice.  But I will attempt to put a fence around it, to break it down into what will serve the right goal, and what won't. 

There are two flavors of editing. 

The advice to avoid one of them as you write during November is absolutely spot-on accurate, with a couple of caveats.  The other… will send you spiraling into that pile of rocks like a chorus of sirens.

The first type of editing, the one you should probably avoid, is copy editing.  Literally correcting typos.  Fixing grammar mistakes.  Polishing your words.  Trying to make your prose perfect.

The advice to avoid doing this is solid.  Unless you are fast – which you might just be if you've planned your novel well, and completely… in which case you will have the time to fix all this copy-level stuff in the last few days of November.  Or, if you get ahead of pace (1700 words per day), at the end of each writing day.

By the way… 1700 words a day isn't all that much, or that tough, if your novel has been adequately planned.  Frankly, if that's the case for you, you can bang out up to 5,000 words a day without skipping your trip to the gym. 

That's how powerful effective story planning can be.

The other level of editing — the one you absolutely shoudn't ignore – is story-level editing. 

That is, seizing the opportunity to optimize story physics (dramatic tension, character empathy, vicarious reader experience) through tinkering with your scenes as you go (again, this only becomes valid advice if you've planned your story and are ahead of pace)… and, to make story-level course corrections.

The latter does happen.  Critics of story planning — who usually haven't really tried it, and who are likely the folks advising you not to edit as you go – like to claim that planning takes the spontaneous creativity (and/or the joy) out of the actual writing process. 

To that I say… planning your story IS a critical part of the writing process, and the need for — and glorious bliss of — creativity and spontaneity is every bit as much a rewarding part of it as it is with drafting.  Trust me, there's nothing more rewarding than knowing your story is solid before you begin a draft.  But you'll find that, even with the best of story plans in place, you'll come upon ways to embellish, deepen and even shift your story as you write it.

And that's precisely what you should do during November when the urge strikes you.

The more you understand about story physics and the six core competencies, the more confident you'll be in your story plan.  And the more valid this contradictory advice becomes.  If you're unsure about what you're doing, chances are insecurity will be your partner during both the planning and drafting phases… which is one of those life lessons that will come the hard way: the basics of storytelling are essential, and they will set you free. 

Free to enjoy the process with confidence.

Here's another wonderful consequence of effective story planning:

Almost always, when you've done it well, those mid-draft shifts come as improvements and enhancements, rather than rescues or panic-induced doubt.  Which means, implementing shifts as you write is a good thing.  Doing so absolutely does serve your higher NaNoWriMo goal.

So edit away, at the story level, as you write your novel in November.  Consider it a safety net here in October as you plan your story… you'll enter the draft with something good, and what happens from there is improvement, not ignorance-induced doubt.

Benchmark test: are you beginning to sketch out your beat sheet (scene sequence, as defined by scene identification, mission, and then treatment/content)?  You should be doing this by now… this is where you connect your vision to your plan.

If not… I suggest you go back and re-read this series from the beginning.  A second read always yields more than the first take.

NaNoWriMo #20: To Edit or Not to Edit… is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com

NaNoWriMo #19: Center Yourself Within the 'Big Picture'

You've got two Big Pictures to deal with come November. 

One is the Big Picture of your story.  We've been working on that in this series.  Understanding the Big Picture of your story is the key to turning your NaNoWriMo effort into a viable, professional novel — a real novel — worthy of a future.

But there's another valuable Big Picture to consider, and now may be the time to visit or revisit it.  Because I'm guessing you're swimming in details, criteria and high bars: six core competencies, three dimensions of character, four story parts, three major milestones, hooks, endings, chapter building, beat sheets, sub-plot, sub-text…

… and you thought it was just about sitting down and typing whatever comes to you. 

Or maybe you didn't.  Either way, those two Big Pictures define the challenge at hand.  Your task will be more effective and efficient when you proactively consider both.

The Big Picture Analogy of the Day

Been on an airplane lately?  Peeked into the cockpit as you board?  What we see in there looks overwhelming to most of us.  We wouldn't think of trying to fly that airplane ourselves just because we've ridden in lots of airplanes.  No, we happily understand that it takes a working knowledge of of, well, three separate yet dependent realms of knowledge: the physics of aerodynamics… the fundamentals of the various disciplines involved in aircraft operations… and the skill required to fly the airplane safely.

Which is also why it's hard to write a novel based on your intuition alone (as hard, say, as flying an airplane on intuition), without familiarity with all the guages and gadgets and levers that compose the storyteller's cockpit. 

Reading a novel and thinking you can write one… those are very different things.  As different as riding in the cockpit versus coach.

The Second Big Picture of Storytelling

After knowing what you're doing with your story, the other Big Picture is craft… or, the ability to execute that plan.  It's the difference between the architect's craft and the builder's craft… overlapping, dependent, yet separate disciplines.

The three realms of storytelling are:

1.  The physics (principles and forces) of dramatic theory… this is what separates a great story from an als0-ran.  Click the link and review what they are. 

2.  The Six Core Competencies of Successful Storytelling… the toolchest and a checklist that allows you build-out your idea over the requisite bases.  There are about 200 posts here on this topic.

3.  Execution… the writing itself… during which you add value and depth through the power of your scenes and words.  This is the marriage of art and craft, the collision of intention and execution. 

This topic is  more than a post in a series… it's an entire book. 

In fact, it's gonna be my next writing book.  I even have the title: "The Search for Story," which will pick up where my last book left off. 

But it's the subtitle that comprises today's tip in this series, because it's the subtitle where clarity and value are found: "Understanding and Navigating the Three Realms of Storytelling."

Everything we've talked about in this series falls into one of these three realms.  Each realm depends on the other to function.  It's a mistake — the bane of beginners — to either ignore or miss the nuances of wrapping your head around all three.

Can you succeed without acknowledging these separate realms?  Sure, it happens.  But not in 30 days.  It's just easier, it just makes more sense, when you do.  And if you really do, you can nail it in 30 days of writing, provided you've planned it out (in context to all three realms) ahead of time, even if it's all in your head.

Once you grasp the 1o1 on each of these realms, you begin to understand how their melding results in a whole that vastly exceeds the sum of the parts.  That swirling sum is what you're shooting for… it's the stuff of bestsellers and award winners.

Just like flying that airplane — not just flying it, but designing a flying machine, which is a much more appropos analogy to writing a novel — you need to own the principles of aerodynamics (the physics)… you need to master the core competencies involved in building and flying an airplane (there are six of them where writing a novel is concerned,. and they're plastered all over the nearly 400 posts on this website)… and the skills required to successfully operate it once built (your learning curve as a storyteller).

Today's tip: understand where you stand in relation to these realms.   Not just one or two.

And here's why: you actually can compose a story with all six core competencies in place… and then write the hell out of it… and it still might still not work.  It might even suck.  Because it's the physics — that first realm — that delivers the qualitative criteria that you apply to the core competencies (the second realm) and, then, the writing itself (the third realm).

Read that again.  If you want to nail your NaNoWriMo, you need to develop your Six Core Competencies in context to optimized dramatic principles (tension, compulsion, vicarious experience, denouement, something stirring), and then write it like a seasoned pro would write it.

Because at the heart of the story planning process is, in fact, quality.  Something that is all too often undervalued, disregarded or considered impossible during NaN0WriMo.

Don't get sucked into the quantity mob mentality come November.  Make no mistake, 50,000 words cannot become a story without these three realms making music together, — even if it happens via blind luck — and there are principles and tools to help you make it happen… without the need for luck.

NaNoWriMo #19: Center Yourself Within the 'Big Picture' is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com

New Peer Review Fiction Ready for Your Feedback

A lot of new faces here on Storyfix — welcome, by the way! — and you may not be aware of one of the newest features of the site.  We offer a Peer Review page where authors can post their work, available to all for reading, and with an open invitation for your feedback (using the "Comments" feature at the bottom of each entry's page).

Peer feedback is the best kind.  Please honor your fellow writers who have braved this decision by reading their work (see links below) and chipping in your thoughts.  There are many previous entries here, too… enjoy.

Today's New Submissions

- an action/thriller novel from Darren Stephenson, called "Strategem."

- a legal suspense thriller from Sharon B. called, "Jack Dare's American Freefall."

- a short story from Evonne Biggins called, "Gray Stones & Blue Fireflies."

Recent Additions

- a fantasy short story from Brandon Pilcher called, "Fighting For Food."

- the addition of a second chapter to Frederick Fuller's adult contemporary novel called, "For the Heart's Treasure."

To see the entire Peer Review Menu, CLICK HERE.

To learn more about submitting your own work to the Peer Review Page, CLICK HERE, or for a general overview of this opportunity, HERE.

New Peer Review Fiction Ready for Your Feedback is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com

NaNoWriMo #18: Don't Confuse 'Quirks' With 'Characterization'

We humans are the sum of what we present to the world. 

We are ultimately defined by what we do, as much as how we are perceived, either by intention or omission.  Especially when there is something on the line, when courage or forgiveness or creativity or perception are involved.

Certainly there are inner dialogue and demons… which are absolutely essential to deep characterization.  In fact, the delta (engineering-speak for "difference") between the two is the stuff of good storytelling and the grist of character arc. 

That said, even so, it is what the character does that ultimately defines their character.

As writers we strive to bring our characters alive on the page. 

There are three levels — three dimensions – of characterization: simply inserting a character into a story, at any level (this level, is, by the way, sufficient for background players and walk-ons)… the backstory and inner landscape that explains choices and demons… and what the character does, sometimes in spite of that backstory.

Quirks reside in none of them.  You can try to explain them away as second dimension issues of characterization, but at the end of the writing day a quirk is like the color of a car… it doesn't define the car.  What's broken in the car… now that's interesting.

Characterization is one of the most challenging aspects of writing an effective novel.  It's easy to err on both sides of the proposition: thin characterization, or over-characterization.

The former is often described as a flat, one-dimensional character.  The latter… a story that isn't moving forward, with too little conflict.  Character-driven is fine… character-smothering (smothering the story, that is) isn't.

The purpose of plot is to give the characters something to do, something to react to and make decisions about.  As such, plot becomes the catalyst for character.  This is a subtle but powerful insight, and it justifies all the spilled blood and tears about plotting.

Here's the trap: the writer imbues the character with all sorts of surface traits, tics, foilables and choices. With quirks.  The way they dress, what they drive, how they talk, hygiene (or lack thereof), manners (or lack thereof), sophistication, preferences, tastes, prejudices, habits, bluster… and all of the other contrivances and socially-interfacing choices we humans make.

It may mean something, or it may be just a convenient contrivance.  Either way, quirks hardly ever ultimately define your hero or antagonist.

Quirks and personality skews aren't enough. 

The characterization bar is higher than that.  Until you show us the third dimension of your major characters – how they behave and act when the heat is on — you haven't done your job with them.

Because characterization is best illustrated — and most germane to the story you are telling — when it comes down to the choices the character makes when there are consequences hanging in the balance.  Those choices may or may not align with the quirks you've assigned them, but either way, they ultimately do define the character.

Bill Clinton lied to the Grand Jury and to the American public. So did Barry Bonds and every indignant politician who got caught with their pants down.  What is their true character?  They showed us by what they did when it counted. 

If your character is all surface quirks, with no inner diaglogue, no backstory, no linkage between those quirks and that backstory… if it's all for show… then you've missed the boat, and the boat is named Opportunity.

Remember, your hero must be just that… heroic.  Doesn't matter how many tattoos they have or how they wear their hair, if they smoke or not, if they have an accent or not, shave or not, if they take the bus or drive a Corvette (this choice seems to say a lot about some characaters) or not…

… your hero must exhibit courage, growth and nimble quickness of thought when it counts. What they do defines them.  They are heroic, possessed of integrity… or they are not.  Quirks don't get you there.

This decision-level characterization — the third of the three dimensions of character — is essential, especially in the final part/act of your story.  Because it is here where they showcase their character arc — their growth — as their inner hero emerges.

Remember, your hero needs to be the primary catalyst in the resolution of the story.  In doing so, she or he makes choices, and it is the sum of those choices — not merely their quirks — that define the character.  A quirk never meant doodley-squat to how a story ends… decisions and actions do.

Thanks for offering up your comments and advice to fellow NaNoWriMo participants, as suggested in the previous post. 

Good stuff.  Just one quibble from me… if you rely on your characters to "take over" your story, allowing you to just follow them, you're in trouble already. 

Because your character isn't a writer.  And if they are, well, then it's their story, not yours. 

And I have news for you… it's always, it's gotta be, your story to tell.  Your characters just live (or die) in it.

Such free-form, plotless meandering is not story engineering, and it almost always compromises story architecture.  That's just shooting for a pile of 50,000 words and a challenging prose writing experience, one that will lead you deep into a corner you may have trouble writing yourself out of.  At least if you have plans for your manuscript.

That's the NaNoWriMo I'm trying to help you avoid.  Rather, you have the chance to use NaNoWriMo as a means of developing and focusing on a story that works… and when it does finally work, structure and architecture will be there.

Stories are a "pay me now, or pay me later" proposition.  You get to choose, and the consequences of that choice are measured in time and frustration.

You do want it to work, don't you?  Thought so.

Check out Page 54 in the November/December issue of Writer's Digest.

You'll find an article by me on how to end your story effectively.  It'll be out there in time to impact your NaNoWriMo effort… which is why I mention it.

NaNoWriMo #18: Don't Confuse 'Quirks' With 'Characterization' is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com

NaNoWriMo #17: Learn From Others Who Have Been Down This Road

Today's tip: read the comments below (click on COMMENTS to get 'em). 

If you're one of the first here, check back later when those comments arrive… after (please) reading the next paragraph.

YOU ARE INVITED TO OFFER YOUR BEST NaNoWriMo ADVICE to other writers… here (add your comment to this post).

There are many ways to skin this little kitty.  I'm covering basics and core competencies and "toolbox" stuff… but others have a treasure trove of experitential gold to offer, especially regarding word count progress, staying focused and staying the course.

So let us hear from you. 

And thanks for playing.

Also, if you have specific NaNoWriMo-related questions and concerns, fire 'em off, too.

How are you doing with the planning process?

NaNoWriMo #17: Learn From Others Who Have Been Down This Road is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com