Larry Brooks's Blog, page 46
October 6, 2011
Nail Your NaNoWriMo #7: The Most Important Moment in your Story
There's a lot of wiggle room in this story structure stuff. The targets for your story milestones are just that — targets — but if you miss by a reasonable amount in either direction (too soon, or a bit late), your story may not tank because of it.
But one of those milestones, while still offering wiggle room, remains the lynchpin of your story. The weight-bearing cross beam of your architecture. Mess this up — either via misplacement, misunderstanding or simple abuse — and your story probably won't work. Because it'll look like something other than a novel, as defined by agents and editors and even readers. Not all of whom, by the way, may even recognize this terminology of even the existence of this principle.
They'll just know it when they see it. And wince when they don't.
It's your First Plot Point.
And your need to master what it is before you can optimize how you've engineering it into your story.
Rather than open this can of worms here, better to send you to a post that isn't restained by space and time, like this so-called "tip" is. Todays tip is to read this post and then re-read until you can recite it in your sleep.
Go here: http://storyfix.com/story-structure-series-4-–-the-most-important-moment-in-your-story-the-first-plot-point. Because your story depends on your First Plot Point to work. NaNoWriMo included.
Don't shortcut this one. It's the key to everything you're doing.
Here's another set of questions, from a different angle, that you should address as you plan and write your story:
http://storyfix.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=371&action=edit
Nail Your NaNoWriMo #7: The Most Important Moment in your Story is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
October 5, 2011
Nail Your NaNoWriMo #6: Filling Out the Big Picture
All this talk about your idea… let's expand on that.
The overwhelming odds are that your original "idea" — the very first glimmer of a spark for a story, originated as something less than a story element, or it if was a legit story element, it already resides in one of three categories.
If it wasn't a story element — your idea was "to write a mystery" or another genre… to write a "love story gone wrong"… to write "something like my favorite author writes" — then your idea is more food group than entre. In other words, you still don't have a starting point for a story. Even though that idea may already be pointing you in a given direction.
A legitmate story spark, one that has moved forward from intention to nature, usually comes from one of these three places: it's a concept… it's a character… or it's a theme.
Occasionally the "story" might be your intention to write about something that happened to you or someone you know, or would like to happen… but that's rarer than those first three.
Here's today's tip, and it's twofold.
First, seek to understand where you are on this continuum. Is your spark an intention, or is it closer to a concept, a character, a theme, or maybe a sequence of happenings.
If it's just an intention, then play 'what if? with it until it cleanly falls into one of those three categories: concept, character, or theme.
At the point at which you're sure you know which of those three things it is, then proceed with this absolute necessary at the front and center of your mind: you need to add the others to your original story spark. To fan that spark into a flame, which will in turn build into the raging inferno of your story.
If you begin with a concept, then you need to develop (add) a character (hero), and then a theme (meaning).
If you begin with a character in mind, then you need to add a concept and then a theme.
What do I mean by "add" in this context?
A story is always a combination of concept, character, theme… and then structure. No exceptions.
So, if you only have one of those elements framed solidly in your mind, without the others having taken form, you don't yet have a 'story." Which means, if you start writing without that in place, your story will be broken, rendering the draft itself a step in the search for story process.
So, leveraging the creative energy and potential of the one element you do have, begin to focus on the others.
For example, if you have a solid concept — like, "what if a newly divorced man seeks revenge on his ex by marrying her daughter?" — you now need to leap naturally into character, which is a development of your story's hero. Which in this case could be either the man, the ex or the daughter. You need to decide, because each story is different, and only now can you make a choice that "optimizes" the inherent potential of your idea. You can't really begin writing until you make that choice.
And yet, so many writers do begin writing at this point… and they don't get there. At least not without another major drafting process. Which, with NaNoWriMo, you don't have time for.
And then you need to be clear on what it all means, what you're saying about this situation. That's your theme.
At some point you'll realize that you're bouncing among all three of these elements, using a step forward from each to help move the remaining elements forward. After a while the three will be marching in lock-step toward a story sequence… and then you're in business.
Story sequencing — which is structure – is always most effective when done with a solid vision for each of the other (concept, character and theme) clear in your mind.
For a while it will feel very non-linear, perhaps uncomfortably so. But not nearly as uncomfortable as reaching page 170 in your manuscript and then realizing it isn't working, which will happen unless you approach it this way.
This non-linear chaos during the planning phase is normal, this is good. The more you immerse yourself in it, the sooner you'll begin to see how it all should be organized.
And that's when things get really fun, really efficient.
And it's also when — to dispell the mistaken myth clung to by many pantsers — a new creative layer of sizzle comes to the story, because the basics are already there, freeing you to tweak and add-depth and tension and empathy, all with your genius literary voice. It's hard to sing when you're still trying to figure out the tune… story planning is like an ear-bud playing the bass track in your head while you get to ad-lib and riff around the melody line.
Biggest mistake you can make, especially for NaNoWriMo, is to start writing before these elements are solid in your mind. Don't rely on your draft to make them work, you won't have enough time. But if they're solid at the blueprint stage, odds are they'll come alive and play nice together in your draft — your first draft, your NaNoWriMo draft — in a way that just might exceed your wildest hopes.
It won't be an accident when it happens. It"ll be the natural, ordained outcome of a proactive, informed story development process.
Nail Your NaNoWriMo #6: Filling Out the Big Picture is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
October 4, 2011
Nail Your NaNoWriMo #5: Don't Forget to Fall In Love
About that "idea" for your novel.
There are ideas… and then there are Ideas. The latter being significant concepts, fantasies, landscapes, arenas, themes and even semi-developed stories you are saving for a real effort at writing a novel.
Well, it doesn't get any more real than this. Than NaNoWriMo… if you go about it properly.
NaNoWriMo doesn't have to be practice, but rather, it does end up being one of two things: success or basically a waste of time. A certain percentage of NaNoWriMo writers get this, and a certain other percentage doesn't. That latter group truly has one and only one goal: fill up blank screens with 50,000 words of… anything that seems, to them, to be linear in nature. To them, that's winning.
"Winning!" Remind you of anyone?
For real writers, NaNoWriMo isn't about that.
I think we owe the craft of storytelling more than that. I know it demands more of us than that.
So let's shoot for real success, ya think?
You know that old saying, "you can't make chicken salad out of chicken sh*t?" Make sure your NaNoWriMo idea doesn't smell like the henhouse.
One way to move toward that context — and this is today's tip — is to build this project around an idea — a concept, a character, a theme, or something that happened to you or you wish would happen to you — that's worth a few pints of your blood and sweat.
There are no definitive criteria for this. You'll know if the idea is big enough, exciting enough, to be the one thing that drives you toward doing this right. An idea you can't get out of your head. An idea that you'd read if someone else wrote about it.
Make your NaNoWriMo novel about that. Nothing less. Don't settle. Honor the craft, honor your time, honor your dream. Don't concoct a placeholder story for a placeholder writing month. Make them both count by writing something real and significant… for you.
Because — and you already know this — this is gonna be hard. It's like a relationship… they're hard at times, and when it is, only if the other person is worth it will you proceed forward productively, and with a chance at bliss.
Love your story. Accept nothing less. That's the only way it will ever love you back.
Nail Your NaNoWriMo #5: Don't Forget to Fall In Love is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
October 3, 2011
Nail Your NaNoWriMo #4: Tell Your Story in Context to… 'Something'
What happens on the first day of football practice?
You get a Playbook. Everything that happens from that point forward is in context to its contents and intentions.
What happens on the first day of class, besides nausea? You get a syllabus. With the same forward-looking intentions.
What happens when you write a novel that is not developed in context to something? Either relative to storytelling aesthetics and/or specific narrative flow?
Disaster, that's what happens. So let's avoid that.
You need a Playbook. Here it is.
Open this link. Print out the contents of the post. Then staple it next to your computer, and maybe on your refrigerator.
It's that empowering.
http://storyfix.com/the-single-most-powerful-writing-tool-youll-ever-see-that-fits-on-one-page
Skim the intro. Forget the closing. It's the middle section where the gold resides. Everything we do from this point forward during this October planning month, and then everything you write during the November writing month itself, is in context to this.
There's more.
Click here and print this one out, as well:
And then, one more.
http://storyfix.com/storytelling-to-the-beat-of-a-different-drummer
The sum of these three posts is more than enough to not only empower you to reach your NaNoWriMo goal, it might just elevate your effort into the realm of expectations-exceeding, writing-something-publishable territory.
The conventional wisdom about NaNoWriMo is both right and wrong.
Right: forget about self-editing in real time as you go. In fact, overwrite. Get it all down. You're compiling words, so don't be shy, you can always go back in with a hacksaw later.
Wrong: what you write will almost always require major surgery, this is quantity over quality, don't set your expectations too high.
Nope. That's naive. That's defeatist. That's… for the unenlightened writer.
If you want that last one to be proven wrong, and if you want to be the writer who does the proving… study these three posts via these three links.
If this stuff doesn't light you on fire, you are literary asbestos.
Bonus link:
Because if you've read this far you're really into this. Here's a little reward:
http://storyfix.com/the-6-most-important-words-in-fiction-writing
Nail Your NaNoWriMo #4: Tell Your Story in Context to… 'Something' is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
October 2, 2011
Nail Your NaNoWriMo #3: Vet and Fertilize Your Story "Idea"
Don't just start something. Develop something first, so you can start something worthwhile in November… and finish it.
There are two ways to immerse yourself in NaNoWriMo. One is to arrive at November 1 with either no idea what will happen after Page 1… or only a vague idea.
The other is to execute an idea that has been — during the month of October — expanded into a fully fleshed, waiting-to-exhale conceptually-driven blueprint for your story. A blueprint that is, in retrospect, nothing other than pumping enough air into your original idea to allow it to get airborne as a story.
And if you don't think you can develop a bluepring… you're wrong. Because drafting is nothing more than another form of blueprinting if it isn't the offspring of an outline or at least a robust beat-sheet.
Both processes involve the search for story.
Every novel must engage in, and succeed in, this search.
The former method above — it's Nov. 1 and you don't know how your book is going to end, or worse, what happens on the way – renders your entire month and the draft that results from it an exercise in searching for your story.
I don't buy the notion that you "win" NaNoWriMo by just finishing. Do you "win" a marathon by just finishing? No, you win — on a personal level, which is the case with NaNoWriMo — by finishing strong, by exceeding your expectations, rather than limping across the finish line broken and useless.
Let's make that happen for you.
Today's tip: find your story during October.
Search for it (tips on how to do that are forthcoming), expand it, test it, grow to love it.
Then arrive at the November 1 starting gate with a workable plan for your story not only in place, but chomping at the bit.
The former will, at best, become the basis for another draft. When it doesn't, you'll read about writers who say, "well that was hard but it was fun, and at least I proved to myself that I could do it, that I actually can write 50,000 words in one month. Hey, I finished, so I won."
Really? They may or may not have a viable story to show for it. This isn't National Manuscript Completion Month, it's "novel writing," which implies it's really a novel when you're done. And if it doesn't work in the way a novel should work, then it's not a novel at all… and in that case, what, precisely, have you "won"?
The latter approach (planning) will, if you do it properly, and if you finish that planning in October, and if you write as one possessed by the story that is now in your head… if you fall in love with your story before you write it…
… it will yield a manuscript that will, at best, be a tweak away from being submittable, or more likely, be the basis for a story that can see the finish line.
Which writer will you be?
The one who pats his/herself on the back because you finished, because you "won" NaNoWriMo? Putting 1600 words per day into a manuscript isn't winning, it's time management.
Or will you be the writer with a viable manuscript on their hard drive?
To become the latter, your October planning process must, in the early stages (like, now), begin to crystalize an "idea" for your story… and then — this is critical — evolve that into into a fully populated story that touches on all six core competencies.
My guess is you have an "idea" in mind already. If not, that's your starting point. You need to find one, and fast.
But finding an idea isn't the hardest part. Because when you do have an "idea," you're still not ready to write.
In fact, writing from just an "idea" is one of the most fatal mistakes a writer can make — especially during NaNoWriMo — unless that idea has morphed into a story concept.
What's the difference between an "idea" and a "concept"?
Ideas come in all sizes and shapes. "I'm going to write a mystery starring a blind detective." That's a pretty good idea, actually… but it's not a story. Not even close. And if you sit down to Page 1 to using only that idea… then you are pantsing.
And pantsing really never works during NaNoWriMo. You can "win" doing it that way… but you probably won't "succeed" doing it that way.
No, a story needs the following elements:
A hero with a need to fill or a journey to take, with opposition to that need, with stakes and consequences attached, with dramatic moments along the way that offer and then dash hope, and then, an ending that satisifies.
But even that much isn't enough. That's just a high altitude view of a much more complex landscape.
A "story" that works requires a concept that is best expressed as a series of hierachical "what if?" questions, the answers to which begin to define what happens along the way… a rootable and empathetic hero with a backstory and inner demons to conquer that creates the opportunity for character arc and a definitive world view… thematic resonance… a properly populated scene sequence complete with a plan for the Part 1 set-up scenes… a killer First Plot Point… a context-shifting mid-Point… a catalytic Second Plot Point… and most all, a viceral, logical (and possibly surprising) ending that delivers a huge dose of satisfaction to the reader.
That's a story. Nothing less.
Just try whipping all that out, come November 1, in 30 days without a plan in place.
You really can figure it all out — each and every one of those elements, plus many of the scenes that will render them — during October.
So get started with "vetting" your idea.
Does it set the stage for a story? What dramatic questions does it inspire? What will your hero need or want in y0ur story? What will oppose this quest or journey? What does that opposition need or want? What are the stakes, and will your reader feel the weight of them? How will your character respond to opposition, and then, how will they change to become empowered to overcome it? How will your hero become the catalyst for the ending, rather than a spectator to it?
The quicker you can turn your "idea" into a dramatic 'what if?" question that begins to answer these questions, the more flesh you'll be able to provide your outline come October 31.
And thus, this idea vetting and expansion becomes context for all the planning that lies ahead of you. So that, come November 1, you are not writing your novel in context to your idea, but rather, in context to the plan that the idea has inspired.
Huge difference. The difference, in fact, between playing and really winning NaNoWriMo.
Nail Your NaNoWriMo #3: Vet and Fertilize Your Story "Idea" is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
October 1, 2011
Nail Your NaNoWrMo #2 – Keep Your Character Close to Home
I hate to admit it, but NaNoWrMo is different than the normal, reasonable experience of writing a novel.
Time is of the essence. Normally this could easily compromise one of the core competencies (of the six, in case you're new here) that will, at some point, need to be sparkling and compelling in your story.
Here's a little trick to cut a ton of time out the process and get it right from square one. Which, in context to NaNoWrMo, is like bailing water out of a life raft with a bucket instead of a spoon.
The Toughest Core Competency
For me it's character. Even when you plan your hero down to the fingernails, the persona, the effect of the backstory and the general nature and energy of the character doesn't fully emerge until you bring him/her alive in your pages.
Unless…
… the hero is you.
If you allow yourself to star in your NaNoWrMo story — I highly advise changing the name — you'll find yourself knowing more about your hero than you ever will otherwise. Literally put yourself into the skin of your hero and vicariously experience — and then translate into words — the journey you've created.
Of course, if you don't see yourself as a hero, this is your chance to add what's missing and fix what's broken. And you should… by virtue of nailing the character's arc. At least you'll have a first hand understanding of the starting point of that arc… because he/she is you.
You will also bring a gritty, realistic emotional resonance to the character, because he/she will feel and response as you would in that situation.
Which can be a lot of fun on paper. Go ahead, live your fantasy.
Which is a preview of a forthcoming tip, by the way.
All of these tips need to be assimilated in context to each other.
Today's tip, for example, won't really come alive until you've created a compelling concept and have crafted a vision for the journey, the antagonist and the outcome. But once those in place (which they will be as we move down this October planning path), casting yourself in the lead will cut, if not a lot of time, then certainly a lot of time-consuming guesswork from the critical element of character in your story.
Live the dream. In this case, literally.
Nail Your NaNoWrMo #2 – Keep Your Character Close to Home is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
Nail Your NaNoWrMo
Don't just start something. Develop something first, so you can start something worthwhile in November… and finish it.
Finishing isn't the highest goal. It shouldn't your only goal. If you finish, you haven't "won" anything.
But you can "win." By writing a novel in November that's actually something that stands apart from the process itself as worthwhile. As something to move forward with.
You'll write it in November. That's the name of this game. But you can develop it in October.
And if you're serious about writing, and not just approaching NaNoWrMo like a stadium tour (the seats are empty) or a bunch of people in a bar seeing how many beers they can drink before closing …
… as a bit of a lark, just to see if you can do it…
… if you want more out of this than repetitive motion disorder in your hands…
… you should develop it in October. As deeply and proficiently as you can.
If you do, your NaNoWrMo may actually amount to something.
Maybe even a first draft that's a tweak or two away from being submittable.
A feat which even the most ardant NaNoWrMo enthusiasts sometimes admit is nearly impossible. Not me. I think it's entirely possible, and therefore worth the enlightened effort.
You wouldn't climb a mountain without the right equipment, right? Just sayin'.
It begins now.
Last year I was a NaNoWrMo nincompoop. Partly because I didn't understand it well enough. I didn't realize that you could arrive at your keyboard on November 1 with as much story planning in place as you wanted, that it wasn't cheating the rules or the process, and that it definately wasn't cheating yourself.
That it could actually be a compressed writing experience that is viable and real, not to mention creatively rewarding, rather than an experiment in time management.
I'd like to help you do just that.
So during the month of October I'm going to be posting A TIP A DAY to help you move forward with your NaNoWrMo story planning.
Beginning now.
Today's tip: Know what you're planning.
A great story is like a building or a plant or a piece of software or even a person, pick your analogy. There's as much on the inside as there is on the outside. It has foundations, roots. It has sub-text and heart and gravitas. It must have a weight-bearing structure, and ultimately an aesthetic appeal.
There are many ways to get all that on paper. To reach that goal. However, you don't have time to do it using what some writers think of as the old fashioned way — to just sit down and start banging it out. That hardly ever works… not in thirty days… not in thirty weeks.
That one is too many beers, too fast. And you know what happens to that.
Here's what you'll be considering and shadow boxing with as you plan:
The embrcing of a Big Idea… knowing the difference between an idea and a story… knowing how that idea needs to be spun in four different ways… how to develop your idea into a viable, compelling concept… how to cast a starring role (your hero) on that landscape… how to make it a story with teeth and weight and resonance… how to lay it all out in a sequence that is not only logical, but is also optimized… how to give it legs that are running toward a future.
All before you write a word. All before November 1.
Sound huge? Crazy? Sound… like the solution? It is all that and more: it's an opportunity. And it absolutely can be done.
So have a great Saturday, October 1. I'll be standing in front of about 50 writers in Medford Oregon talking about all these things. Some of them may be NaNoWrMo writers. I hope so.
You have your first tip. Decide to do this right.
This is all FREE, by the way. I recommend subscribing to Storyfix so these tips arrive as email every morning. And if you are sharing the NaNoWrMo experience or know other writers so inclined, share the love. In a weird sort of way we're all in this together.
Need more context for this journey? I humbly recommend this book (CLICK HERE). I promise you it will juice your NaNoWrMo experience like nothing else you've ever read, like nothing else out there.
Nail Your NaNoWrMo is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
September 29, 2011
Epiphany: The Bottom Line, Revealed
Sometimes it feels like I've been in a street fight for the last 30 months.
Pantsers vs. Pantsers. Jets vs. Sharks. Right vs. left. Good vs. Evil.
You would not believe — I've only shared a sliver of it — the vitriolic venom sent my way when I've suggested that there exists an underlying, matrix-like set of structural principles and aesthetic sensibilities that, like the Gods looking down from Olympus through their enchanted reading glasses, determine the fate (readability, publishability) of our stories.
I've been misunderstood. And indeed, I've been guitly of misunderstanding. And… I've been overwhelmingly reinforced by a small army of writers who get it.
My position has… softened. I've realized that the "fight" isn't what I thought it was. That there is significant gray imbued in all of this discussion about the writing process.
But there is no gray at all in the truth about what makes a story tick, and the precision of that truth. We don't get to define, or reinvent, the word "tick" in this context. Not if you intend to throw your story out there with the intention of finding an audience.
I think I stumbled up on it. I wrote it in my post of two days ago. One sentence. Not planned, but totally pantsed in the throes of writing that post. Here it is again, slightly paraphrased for even further clarity. It bears repeating.
It warrants posting on your computer, maybe tattooing onto your body if you're still confused:
Write your story however you need to write it, process-wise. But don't turn a blind eye to what's true about the story itself, however you get there. About what the story demands from you before it will work.
That's non-negotiable.
Which means that, at the end of the day, planners and pantsers are two names for the very same pursuit. Same game, different paths and styles. But there is only one finish line.
So I'll stop the divisive ratta-ratta if you will.
Like many Epiphanies, the problem is simplied when clarified. And the polarization vanishes like smoke blown away in a relieved sigh of recognition.
I still have strong opinions about the creative process.
You can build a castle with a blueprint and a forklift, or you can built it one handful of sand at a time. The latter may be more romantic, it may be the only way you can wrap your head around it, but that doesn't change the above Epiphany.
I still beleive that the more one understands those principles and criteria, the more the writer will be prone to plan, or at least realize the "search for story" in real-time, rather than continue to just write with blind trust that there is some muse sitting on that Olympus cloud that will show you the path. Or at least how your story will end.
Either way, though, the truth is clear. Only the path remains shrouded in an intoxicating mist.
If you'd like to learn more about the principles and criteria mentioned in this post, CLICK HERE. My little Epiphany changes nothing that I've written in that text. Or dive into the roughly 300 other posts on this website that scrutinize and contextualize them.
Epiphany: The Bottom Line, Revealed is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
September 28, 2011
A Free Sample Chapter From Victoria Mixon's new book, "The Art and Craft of Story: 2nd Practicioner's Manual"
New Peer Review Submission from Evonne M. Biggins: "The Perfect Shade of Gray" (YA). Please honor her with your feedback.
******
Back last winter, when Larry and I were both voted Top 10 Blogs for Writers, we traded guest posts—his Self-Editing at the Story Level on my site A. Victoria Mixon, Editor, and my The Bootstrapping Writer—The Secret at the Core of Competency here on Storyfix. Then a few weeks ago, I interviewed Larry for the re-release of his previously-published thrillers. We had a great chat, and everyone got a fascinating birds-eye view from Larry into what it's really like to be a bestselling author.
Now Larry has invited me to guest post for him again here with an excerpt from my new book, The Art & Craft of Story: 2nd Practitioner's Manual, which was just released on September 30. Thank you, Larry!
Searching for Entertainment-Industry Intelligence
by Storyfix guest blogger Victoria Mixon
My husband and I fell in love under the shadow of SETI.
SETI, in case you don't know, stands for Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence. When one morning sixteen years ago my new boss (and future husband) pointed out that the company we worked for was right down the hall from the SETI offices, I laughed out loud. I didn't know you could rent office space in Silicon Valley from which to search for ET!
But as it happens, SETI, in spite of its X Files-type mission, enjoys a serious reputation among scientists and serves as a funding clearinghouse for a great deal of astronomical research, with enormous grants from some very highly-placed institutions indeed.
All this is by way of explaining where I spent a certain weekend last summer.
My husband had spent the week right before that in Boston leading seminars at one of the major Linux conferences, where he was approached by the SETI people to attend their first annual conference. He was one of a handful of open-source advocates invited to be involved in a discussion on moving SETI's software to open source. He was also invited to their black-tie gala, at which astronauts, Star Trek stars, and big names in astronomy got up and talked about the future of space exploration. They were holding this conference at a large hotel in Silicon Valley, only a few hours' drive from where we live. So we went. Of course!
But the really important part of the conference came the day after the black-tie gala, when we attended a talk by the Director of the National Academy of Sciences' Science & Entertainment Exchange on the question: How can we better bridge the gap between science-fiction entertainment and science?
We watched a wonderful pastiche of movie clips to illustrate this intriguing question, and afterward the Director of the Science & Entertainment Exchange spoke long and eloquently. She brought up several points that, in my mind, all fit into the puzzle the same way:
• Laypeople learn "science" from sci-fi entertainment
• Using science in sci-fi entertainment significantly influences the behavior of 'consumers' (a sitcom featuring science about breast cancer resulted in a major increase in women across the country getting check-ups, a sitcom based on forensic science resulted in a four-fold increase in enrollment in forensic studies programs)
• The difference between a hacker staring at a screen for twenty seconds and yelping, "Eureka!" is a far cry from the real hacker who stares at a screen for weeks on end before unraveling the complexities in their way
• The stories of scientists and their search for information often make gripping telling
• It's more interesting to know the truth
She explained that the National Academy of Sciences consults, when asked, on sci-fi movies and TV shows (which is where this Director's job comes in). They also, when not asked to consult, stand by watching the ensuing confusion.
"What can we do about this disconnect?" The Director of the Science & Entertainment Exchange asked.
She described the elitism among scientists that keeps them from being interested in fiction, the lack of understanding among many writers that science-fiction must be based on—who knew?—science. She even told us about her scientist husband's attempt to write a screenplay on what he knows about the potential and lack of potential in time travel, outraged by the ignorance displayed in time-travel sci-fi. ("This is really hard!" he finally said.)
She proposed a Writing Workshop in which writers and scientists would be paired off, so the scientists could keep the writers in the real world while they developed their stories.
Fabulous! I thought, This all makes perfect sense.
The truth is that a storyteller is dependent upon the facts of the reality they share with their reader—the hidden life-&-death struggles controlling all human character, the cause-&-effect of events in a temporal world, the meticulous, sensitive selection and accumulation of real details—to create a reflection of life that, when gazed into, resonates with a profundity that's always present in reality but often missed.
Storytelling is not something that interferes with life. It's not about faking or trivializing reality for the sake of the writer. Storytelling is about waking the reader up to the life that's really there.
We must look for true aspects of character that we find utterly riveting. Explore real needs that power enormous agendas. Find ways to embed in these riveting characters with these powerful needs the counter-needs that create, deep inside them, internal conflict that rings inside the reader with devastating recognition.
"I know this person," the reader thinks. "With all their beauty and horror, their insight and idiocy, their innocence and corruption. This person is me!"
Then we give our characters some fascinating premise. What if ionizing the air could bend lightwaves to alter the paths of lasers? (An example of true science from the Director's talk.) What if time machines were possible, but altering the past through time travel were not? (Another example.) What if ghosts were the vibrations of the subatomic 'strings' that once made up the body of the living, continuing to reverberate after the body is gone? (I made up that one.)
What kind of nightmare could that create?
We put our characters into that nightmare.
And we design a plotline—along the lines of classic structure—around deeper and deeper exploration of the detailed, proven science that not only makes that nightmare possible but contains the only conceivable antidote.
We illuminate the eloquent search for truth that drives us all.
Please check out Victoria's blog at A. Victoria Mixon, Editor. She is the author of The Art & Craft of Fiction: A Practitioner's Manual and the recently-released The Art & Craft of Story: 2nd Practitioner's Manual, as well as co-author of Children and the Internet: A Zen Guide for Parents and Educators, published by Prentice Hall. She spends a lot of time horsing around on Google+ and Twitter.
A Free Sample Chapter From Victoria Mixon's new book, "The Art and Craft of Story: 2nd Practicioner's Manual" is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
September 27, 2011
Why My Workshops are "Slightly Disturbing"
Sometimes the universe backhands us into paying attention. When it doesn't dislocate a jaw, that's a good thing. More than most, writers need to pay attention to stuff like this.
Especially when you recognize truth in the sting.
This morning a valued reader asked me if I was okay. He noticed that my "voice" was a bit limp lately. I have to agree. The rant that defines me has been muted lately.
Maybe I'm overbooked.
I have five active freelance projects – as in, for pay – that compete with my Storyfix mindshare and challenge my focus, which in order to eat I must divide equally.
Maybe I'm temporarily dry. Five hundred-plus posts, four writing books and a few thousand one-off emails and critiques in 27 months tend to bleed the available blood from one's forehead.
It could be that when I write about what I sell – my coaching, my books, the new Storyfix Peer Review page, my workshops – rather than simply gushing out for free what I believe to be true and urgent about craft, I get just a little timid.
I know why, too. Because I hate hubris. And I sometimes stand accused.
Notice I used the word urgent just now.
I'm referring to the tools and liberating truths that await the hungry writer. To the casting aside of misunderstanding, time-wasting, naivete, outdated modalities, wheel-spinning and comfort zones that hold us back.
So many reject the prevailing and proven universal storytelling truths, some because they don't fully understand them, some because they challenge their existing writing paradigms. The soft-edged, muse-driven, brandy and a crackling fire sensibility of it all, which feels good and romantic and is the way some of your favorite writers describe what they do.
Bullshit. They're as confused and clueless and scared and then, when it finally works, gratified and stoked as the rest of us. There's a reason so many authors disappear after one success (three words: Oprah Book Club), or "wait" a decade before another book bearing their name comes along.
They didn't walk away. They didn't take a 10-year vacation. They disappear because writing an effective, commercially-viable, artistically-worthy, reader enticing story is freaking hard. And the publishing end – either traditionally or via the new digital venues – is a stacked house of cards that defies all odds and logic.
Those warm fuzzy paradigms may or may not be working. Either way, it's imperative that our limiting beliefs are thrown into the abyss of our naïveté. Hence, my urgency when I write about them.
And sometimes I have to rant, to stand up and yell, to make that point.
This isn't planners versus pantsers. Write your story however you need to write it. But don't turn a blind eye to what's true about the story itself, however you get there. That's non-negotiable.
And that's the point so many writers miss.
Disturbed yet? I hope so.
It's not hubris. It's passion.
For storytelling. For enlightened, empowered process. For excellence. Mine and yours.
This difference is this: with hubris the energy is inward focused, seeking validation. With passion it pours out with hope, sometimes doused in flames, sometimes smoldering in a quiet, intimate truth.
I did a radio interview yesterday to help promote a workshop I'm giving this weekend.
The host, who had done his homework, asked why I refer to my workshops as slightly disturbing. Which I do. Proudly. Accurately.
Because I'm passionate about this stuff.
If you've seen me at a workshop, it's like an evangelist crossed with an anxious father with a dash of Vince Lombardi turned stand-up comic, all of it whipping the crowd into a creative frenzy like this was a national political convention, minus the self-congratulatory baloney. Sweat and constant motion and loud volume and repetitive table pounding ensue.
But that's not the disturbing part.
What's disturbing for some writers is that the craft of writing, in context to a stated desire to do it professionally, is a highly analogous pursuit. It's very much like athletics. It has elements of the arts compromised by the constraints of business. It requires the discipline of a surgeon and the whimsy of a lyricist. The boldness of a Michael Connelly and the deft touch of a Jonathan Franzen.
None of that is an accident of muse meeting free time.
We like to think of writing as something unique, even spiritual, when in fact it runs on the same fuel of relational and karmic and emotional physics that anything else does.
It's all just a dance between cause and effect. Nothing more. But we get to add the music.
Seeking success in writing by going to a workshop is very much like attending a personal growth seminar.
At least that's how I see it, so it's how I teach it.
Success – either experientially or in terms of outcome – is very much a product of how one thinks. How intentions translate into action. How much one notices and then translates the truths and forces behind human emotion and action into dramatic narrative infused with tension and consequences.
That's a whole writing seminar in one sentence, by the way.
Thought plus energy plus intention plus discipline and perseverance.
That's the formula. In writing and in life.
And as such, writing becomes life.
As least for me. My middle linebacking days are over. My 97 mph fastball didn't get me out of the minor leagues. My career in a suit and tie was a joke.
All because of how I thought at the time. With writing, applying the lessons of those failures, how I think is now aligned with the things the universe is trying to tell us. Sometimes with that whack upside the head.
I don't lay claim to success. But I wear the uniform of the pursuer. I'm in the race.
Yeah, we'll talk about story ideas and dramatic tension and story architecture at my workshops. We'll play nice with all the aesthetic nuances of craft and the unconditional patience required when one looks around the room and beholds the diversity of styles, limiting beliefs and experiences that define the group.
That's part of it, too. Not everyone is a cage fighter or a lover.
But sooner or later we're gonna link this thing called storytelling to the physics of life itself. We're gonna push and test boundaries and suggest there are possibilities beyond what your college creative writer teacher or your critique groups or Stephen King in On Writing told you.
Don't listen to Stephen King, by the way. He's way better than the rest of us, and his world view and process paradigm have little to do with our reality. And, his books pretty much suck lately because, well, they violate the very principles and parameters the rest of us are stuck with.
The disturbing part will call you out.
If it pushes you back, then perhaps the avocation is bigger than you are. Maybe your comfort zone is just that. Maybe a few decades of apprenticeship is your idea of a good time.
Or maybe you just don't like middle linebackers.
But if it lights you on fire, if that peek behind the curtain of awareness fills your mind with flashing images and the bright light of possibilities, if you can't wait to get back to a keyboard and see what happens with this newly empowered tool chest and mindset…
… then welcome to writing. Serious writing. Welcome to life.
Step into the fear, embrace the Higher Truths that have been there all along, waiting for you to wake up to them and plug them into your subconscious mind.
My new tagline is MISSION-DRIVEN, PASSION-INFUSED.
My apologies if that disturbs you in the wrong way.
And my congratulations if you get it.
I am giving four workshops in the next five weeks. You can read about how to attend two of them at the bottom of the previous post.
Why My Workshops are "Slightly Disturbing" is a post from: Larry Brooks at storyfix.com
