The Theme’s The Thing

Last weekend, I was at the West Coast Writers Conference in Los Angeles, and I was fortunate enough to be placed on a couple of panels. One of the panels that I was on (and moderated) was on Writer’s Block. I was surprised to find that out of everyone in the room, only about 10% of the people—panelists and attendees—believed that writer’s block even exists. I thought I was the only one that felt that it was a non-existent phenomenon, although I have to admit there are times when I have trouble being productive in my writing. I attributed my lack of productivity to the fact that, with my current project, I’m trying to tell a story that isn’t 100% mine (I’m working with Harry Shannon again, and we negotiated the plot points together). It turns out I was wrong.

Later at the conference, I was pitched a novella by a friend of mine. I asked her to tell me about her story, and she talked about lasers and parallel universes and helicopter pilots. She was dreadfully nervous—which I couldn’t figure out, because I figured we were friends and I’m not all that intimidating. Finally, after her elevator pitch was done, I asked her to tell me what the story was about. She began to launch into lasers and parallel universes again, but I stopped her. I asked her, what’s the theme? She hesitated, and finally told me, Redemption. As we explored the theme of redemption, her nervousness evaporated, and she was happily telling me all about why her story was important to her. No hesitations, no stammering, no stress. She was in her element. And when we got to the end of the conversation, she had forgotten about the lasers and the parallel universes, and was totally focused on how to tell the story of her guilt-stricken main character and how he transforms himself through sacrificing himself for the greater good. She knew what she wanted to write, and she was ready to get it all down on paper.

Yesterday—the day after the conference—I was talking to my sister about my current writing project. She was asking me to tell her about it, and I was talking about zombies and survivalists and paranoia. But I couldn’t string the whole story together, because all I had were the plot points that Harry and I negotiated, and had no clue how to tie it all together. And then it dawned on me: I had no idea what the theme was. If it worked for my friend at the conference, why shouldn’t it work for me? So we tried boiling down what was really important to my main character, and what we discovered was that the story wasn’t about zombies and survivalists and paranoia. Instead, it was about Betrayal. Once I knew what the theme was, I was able to picture the entire story in my head—including the things that Harry and I had worked out—and I was no longer stuck. Knowing the theme transformed the process of writing from a chore to something I was excited to be working on. I knew what to do.

I should point out that my third grade teacher, Sheryl Crockey, introduced the concept of theme to me 35 years ago. I really didn’t understand what she was talking about until about last year. I understood plot (zombies and lasers, etc.), but I didn’t understand what it all meant—or how to use it. Now, I can’t write without it, or so it would seem. I’m not saying that you can’t write a good story/novella/novel/epic without knowing your theme, but I will say that when you know it, it can be so much easier to communicate with your audience. Right now, I’m really looking forward to seeing what my friend writes about her theme of redemption, because (if she can pull it off) it should be very powerful and emotionally charged. The same with my own writing. I know that my “writer’s block” won’t be a factor, now that I have a guiding principle to get me from the beginning to the end.

Is theme important to all writers? I honestly have no idea. I would imagine that the power of theme is available to anyone who writes, but since I am only me, I can only speak for myself. And I can tell you that from now on, I will be starting with theme before I put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard, as the case may be).

What does all this mean to you, dear reader? Well, if you read my next effort, I hope that it will be as powerful experience for you as it promises to be for me. And if you are pitching me a story through my query form, you will discover that I have added a field for theme. I won’t say that I will reject a story because you can’t answer the theme question, but if you can, the chances of getting my attention is much improved.

I would be interested in hearing about your experience with theme, either the presence of it or the lack. I may want to do a panel at my next conference about theme, and it would be fascinating to hear what you think of the phenomenon before I do so.