How to Survive the Revision Process

OK, I'll admit it.  When I was in school (and college and grad school) I was seriously guilty of turning in work before revising it.  Sure, I would do a quick spell-check and maybe give it a once-over for grammar, but rarely did I ever roll up my sleeves and do serious revision.

Now that I have a draft of my book done, I find myself in the middle of the revision process and I totally realize why I was resistant to revision before: it's flippin' scary.  This is why I was so thrilled to hear James Scott Bell speak about the revision process at the Writer's Digest Conference.  I was particularly excited to attend his talk because I am a huge fan of his book The Art of War for Writers.  Here are some of the sparkly nuggets I took away from this session.


Principles of Revision

1)  Write hot, revise cool.  Revision allows you to add rational choices and strategy to the frantic bursts of creativity that came out in the first draft.  Take at least two weeks (maybe longer) after writing your draft to let it cool down before you revise.

2)  You need to finish first.  Nothing you write is etched in stone... you can always come back and make it better later on.  The only thing you can't do is revise a blank page.  Finish first.

3)  Do a first read-through.  Try to recreate a reading experience so that you're not focused on the fact that you're reading your own book.  Make minimal notes.  Tip from Gabi:  I put my book on my Kindle and have been reading it there so that it feels more like a "real book" and not just a draft on printed computer pages.  I use the footnote function on the Kindle to make my notes, and since I'm lazy about taking notes on Kindle, it forces me to make my notes short.

4)  Summarize your changes.  Write a 2000 word summary of your draft with the new adjustments you just noted.  Tip from Gabi: You can also try extracting an outline from the first draft, as a way of getting a handle on what you have written.  Then adjust the outline according to the notes you made in your read-through and implement those changes in the draft.


Things to Think About in Revision

Character:  The characters need to jump off the page.  Here are a few exercises to help you with this:

• Try creating some "off-screen" scenes where you see what the character would do in crazy situations.  
• Do the "opposite exercise" where you have the character do the opposite of what you'd expect, then figure out why they did that.

Remember, even at the very beginning, try to give the reader an inkling that the character has the potential for change.

Opening:  As Bell put it: "Cut out the parts that people skip."  Start the story where things get interesting.  Also, make trouble for your characters from the start.  Readers become engaged with the characters at the first sign of conflict.

Dialogue:  Compress the dialogue and extend the action.  Get rid of exposition and ramp up the conflict.  Even if characters are on the "same side" they should still have some kind of conflict between them.


Take-Home Message

Ultimately, revision is where you add the strategic element to your story.  Now that you know who the characters are and what's going to happen, you can plant foreshadowing moments and hint at themes that will be important later on.  You can't do all this in your first draft because during that stage of the process you don't know your characters or the story completely.  It's only once you know the ending and who your characters are at their core that you can manipulate the story in a strategic way.

Much as my brain understands all the amazing benefits of revision, I still find myself having trouble because I keep psyching myself out. 

Help!  Do you have any revision tips I can borrow?

Where Do Characters Come From?

Some people collect stamps or seashells.  Some collect bottle caps or baseball cards.  Some even collect parking tickets.  I collect characters.  I squash them between the pages of my notebook, the way you might press flowers (or faeries).  I'll let you in on some of the secret sources I turn to when I need to boost my stash.

In Real Life:  Basing characters on real people has some major advantages.  For starters, you'll be able to observe an actual person (or if the real life person is dead, you'll most likely be able to rely on primary source material).  Not only that, if you're ever wondering what your character would think or do about something, you can just ask.  That said, there are two drawbacks you'll need to consider if you decide to base a character on someone from real life:

1. You could get sued.  You can avoid this problem by doing one of three things.  A) Avoid saying anything that could get you into trouble, which could lead to a very boring story.  B) Change enough of the details so that it's no longer obvious that you've based the character on a specific person.  C) Base the character on someone who can't sue you... like, say, your cat.
2. You might get so caught up on being true-to-life that you'll kill your story.  Remember, fiction is by definition fictional.  It's not about getting the facts exactly right; it's about crafting a story that reveals a greater Truth about life, humanity, all that good stuff.  Of course you can base certain elements of a character on a real person but in the end, you may have to discard some details that echo reality in favor of ones that will serve the story.

Situations:  The place where I discover most of my characters are in the situations themselves.  I often start with a vague idea like: "What if when you die, your job becomes to convince other newly-dead people about the benefits of being dead?"  Then I work on developing a character who would be the worst possible candidate to cope with that situation.  I know this sounds counter-intuitive.  After all, we're usually taught to develop our character first then throw obstacles at him or her.  But if you think about it, this method accomplishes the same thing.  The only difference is that instead of starting with a character and developing obstacles that will throw him or her for a loop, you think of the situation first and then develop a character who's most likely to freak out in that scenario.

Pictures:  I love looking at a picture and trying to figure out the story behind it.  Some of my favorite artists for this exercise are Edward Hopper, John Singer Sargent, and Edgar Degas.  Photography is also a great resource--especially antique portraits or work that's photojournalistic in style.  Every time I go to a museum, I'll get a handful of postcards that I think might spark interesting characters.  These days with the interwebs at our fingertips, we can find inspiration without even leaving the comfort of our office chair.  Here's one of my favorites:

 

Quotes:  One of the great things about living in a big city is that people will say the craziest things in public.  Seriously, it boggles my mind what some people will say while riding the subway or talking on their cell phones.  I used to feel bad about eavesdropping but now I figure, if these people are talking that loud, it's because they want me to hear and use it in my book.  Whenever I hear a good line, I jot it down right away.  Here's one I recently rediscovered in an old notebook:  "What do you mean she's pregnant?  I thought she was just getting fat."  Even though I just wrote down the quote and made no notes about the speaker, I get a clear mental picture of this character right away.

What about you: where do you go to find characters?  I showed you my sources, so now you show me yours, k?  Awesome.

Every Book Can Get Better: Getting to Know Your Protagonist

Putting Fire in Your Fiction, a craft session taught by Donald Maass, helped me reevaluate how I think about my characters.  This session focused on what makes fiction great and how we can apply that to our own novels.  Not surprisingly, it all comes down to building great characters, most especially your protagonist.

According to Maass, there are 3 basic types of protagonists: the Everyman, the Hero/Heroine and the Dark Protagonist.  I had heard similar categories mentioned in writing workshops so this concept was not entirely new to me.  What was new, however, was Maass' approach for getting to know your protagonist, depending on the category.

The obvious thing would be to figure out who the character is, right?  Actually, what Maass had us do in this session was the exact opposite.  For each category of protagonist, he had us look at who the character could be, not necessarily who the character is.

1) Everyman: Instead of focusing on how "normal" or ordinary this character is, try to figure out what makes this character inspiring.
2) Hero/Heroine: Sure, this character is extraordinary... maybe even superhuman, but what makes him or her human? 
3) Dark Protagonist: This character is wounded/lost/condemned to suffer but how can he or she find hope?

We've all heard writing teachers tell us that our protagonist needs to change, but rarely do they ever tell us how.  Maass' lecture taught me that character development comes down to one simple principle: whatever category your protagonist falls into, the challenge is to make the reader realize that the character could be something that's the flip-side of who the character actually is.  In other words, the ordinary character needs to have the potential to do something extraordinary, the superhuman character must become at least a little bit human and the condemned character must discover a glimmer of hope.

But wait, it gets better.  Instead of making us think only about our characters, Maass showed us how to get to know our characters by drawing from our own experiences.  He had a whole series of questions he asked us to answer about ourselves and our experiences depending on what category our protagonist fell into.  Essentially, the question lists came down to this:

• For the Everyman think of someone who inspires you.  Try to tease apart what it is that makes that person inspiring and they give that trait to your protagonist (even if it's just a small slice of that trait).
• For the Hero/Heroine make note of ways in which you are fallible and human.  Try to give some of that to your protagonist.
• For the Dark Protagonist consider ways you can feel compassion for that character.  How can he or she find redemption?

Sometimes it's scary when our characters turn around and do the opposite of what we want them to do.  I know when that happens to me, it seriously makes me question my sanity.  But the truth is, when our characters misbehave or surprise us, that's when we know that they're becoming real.

Update: for more on Donald Maass' session Putting Fire in Your Fiction, check out this post at All About Them Words.  In her post, Ghenet shares some tips from Maass on how you can draw on your experiences to make flat scenes come to life.

Let's Talk Tense

Last week we talked about Point of View so I thought this week it would make sense to talk about verb tense and how that affects the viewpoint choices we make.  The choices are pretty simple and there are only 2: past and present.  (Yes, there's also future tense, but, really, have you ever seen an entire short story or novel written only in future tense?  If you have, please post in the comments and you will make my day.)

When it comes to tense in fiction writing, there's one essential "rule" to remember: be consistent.  If you decide you want to write in present tense, stay in the present.  If you choose the past tense, stay in the past.

But how do you choose the verb tense to begin with?  The best way is to understand the benefits and limitations of both, then decide which one serves your story best.  Here's a little cheat sheet to help you choose.

Present Tense

• Immediacy - You feel like you're right there with the main character.
• Suspense -  This is especially important if your story is one where the POV character is in peril.  If the story is in present tense, the reader won't know until the end if the POV character survives.
• It Can Sound a Little Unnatural - Let's face it, present tense is relatively new in the world of fiction writing.  Our ears are more used to hearing stories told in past tense (e.g. "Once upon a time there was a...")  This is not to say that all present tense sounds weird, but for some writers, it may not come as naturally and could end up sounding hokey or gimmicky.  The trick here is practice, practice, practice.

Past Tense

• Distance - The narrator has more distance from the events in the story it because they happened in the past.  This gives the narrator some perspective about those events and allows the narrator to have some hindsight.
• Location in Time - Using the past tense, you also need to consider where the narrator is telling the story from.  (This is especially important if you're using 1st person.)  Is the narrator an old man looking back on his early life?  Is she telling the story just after having lived it?  Depending on where the narrator is NOW, it can effect how he or she tells the story.
• Less Suspense - If you're writing in 1st person or 3rd person limited and it's past tense, the implication is that the POV character has lived to tell the tale.  In most stories, this is probably not a problem and won't kill much of your suspense, but if your novel is all about whether or not the POV character survives, then past tense could lessen the suspense.

Choose wisely.  Be consistent.  And don't tear the fabric of the space-time continuum.

Point of View: A Cheat Sheet

When starting a new project, one of the big decisions you have to make is which point of view (POV) you're going to use.  Here's a cheat sheet to help you choose.

First person is when the narrator is a character in the story.

First Person
This is when the main character is the person telling the story.  In other words, this is the "I" narrator.  Examples: Holden from Catcher in the Rye or Katniss from The Hunger Games.

First Person Peripheral
This is when the narrator is a supporting character in the story, not the main character.  This is still the "I" narrator, but now the narrator is not the protagonist.  Example: Nick from The Great Gatsby (Gatsby is the protagonist).

Third person is when the narrator is NOT a character in the story.

Third Person Limited
Third person is the "he/she/it" narrator.  Limited means that the POV is limited to just one character.  This means that the narrator only knows what that character knows, only sees what that character sees.  Examples: A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens (where the story follows Scrooge at all times--even scenes that Scrooge would not be privy too we see through his eyes as he travels with the ghosts of Christmas past, present and future).  The Book of Three (first book of the Prydain Chronicles) where the narrator follows the protagonist Taran.

Third Person Multiple
Again, we're in the "he/she/it" category, but now the narrator can follow multiple characters in the story.  The challenge with this POV is making sure your reader knows when you're switching from one character to another.  A good way to make the switch is to use chapter breaks or section breaks to signal a new POV.  Example: The High King (which is the final book of the Prydain Chronicles) where the narrator follows several characters in the story, including Taran.

Third Person Omniscient
This one still uses a "he/she/it" narration but now the narrator knows EVERYTHING in the story.  The narrator isn't limited by what the POV character knows.  It's sort of like the narrator is god, hence the term "omniscient."  This type of POV was very popular back in the day but has recently become less popular (some people feel like it's a little old-fashioned).  Still, some excellent books use this narrator.  Examples: Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens, and Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.

Third Person Objective
Just like the omniscient narrator can get into any character's head, the objective narrator gets into NO ONE's mind.  This means the objective narrator can only relate information that is easily visible (character's words and actions).  This narrator can't tell us about the character's thoughts or feelings because it doesn't know.  It's kind of like watching a movie, where the only information you get is what you can see or hear.  This POV is very tough to sustain for long pieces which is why the only example I can find is a short story: Raymond Carver's Little Things.

Other POV Choices

Second Person
This is the "you" narrator.  "You go to the store and realize you forgot your wallet... etc."  Like objective POV, the second person is hard to sustain so there are very few novels written in second person.  This POV is more popular for short stories.  In fact, the first story I ever published is in the second person (which is weird because I think it's the only story I've ever done in second person).  Anyway, if you're curious, it's here.

Unreliable First Person
This is when you have a first person narrator but you can't trust him/her for any number of reasons. Maybe the character is a very young child who doesn't really understand what's happening in the story.  Or perhaps the character is insane.  Or better yet, the character could be perfectly sane but also a pathological liar so you can't believe what she says.  Example:  The Tell-tale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe.

Epistolary (or other) Form
Epistolary is when the story is told in letters.  There are many forms that work similarly to epistolary forms, like journal form or a story told through emails, etc.  Mostly these forms work like the first person because the main character in the story is often the one writing the letters/journal/etc.  The difference is that the story is limited even further because of the form.  For example, people don't usually write dialogue in their letters, so if you want to use dialogue in epistolary form, you'll have to find a way around that.

In the end, POV is all about consistency.  Whatever form you decide on, it's important to let the reader know what the "rules" are for your story and then stick to them.

Edit: Added and corrected a few examples.

Unique

Here's the ugly truth:  No writer exists in a void.  All writing is influenced by what has come before.  There is no such thing as utterly, completely unique because writing exists within a context.

In a world that's always screaming for the Next New Thing, how do we writers reconcile that with the scary truth that there's really no such thing as new?  Here are a few things I learned as I completed my WIP draft.

1)  Write what you love, not what the market "wants."  I used to work in the toy industry and it always boggled my mind that we had to predict what kids would "want" not now but a year from now.  We could spend a whole year developing a product only to discover at the end of it all that the trend was over.  The same is true for writing.  If you're working on your project because the genre or topic are a big hit now and you want to jump on the bandwagon, chances are you'll be disappointed.  But if you're working on this book because you love the subject and the characters, then no matter what happens, it's win-win.

2)  Context isn't something to be afraid of.  Think of it as a "safety net."  In the product development world, companies love to create extensions of popular product lines.  After all, a good chunk of the development legwork has already been done in the first version, customers recognize the brand and there's already a built-in market for it.

Think of books that came before yours as a similar "safety net" to your project.  Study the books--both the successful ones and the less so--and think about what made them work or not work.  Think about what you can do to differentiate your project from what has come before, but still keep it within the context.

3)  Find partners in crime.  One of my favorite things to do is go to conferences!  I love meeting other writers, learning about the craft and hearing new information about the business.  This January 2011 I'll be attending the Writer's Digest and SCBWI conferences, both in NYC.  If you've signed up for either of these, let me know in the comments!  I love connecting with new writer friends.

The way I see it, you never know who you'll meet at one of these things.  It could be a new critique partner or beta reader, it could be someone you'll collaborate with some day, it could be a future mentor or someone you might mentor yourself.  The key is to be open to possibilities.

4)  Ideas are not books.  Books are books.  In his memoir, Lessons From a Lifetime of Writing, David Morrell talks about the distinction between the idea and execution.  Every time I start getting down about how un-unique my ideas are, I reread his chapter on plot where he discusses this subject.  His main point is this: sure, an idea might be shiny and new, but an idea does not make a book unique.  What makes a book unique is how the writer implements the idea.  An example:

Take the Harry Potter series--many people marvel at J.K. Rowling's originality. "How did she come up with such a unique idea?" they wonder.  As if all it takes to create a fantastic book (or series of books) is one extraordinary idea.  Because when you have the fun flashy idea then the book just writes itself.  Ha!

I don't know about you, but I find this outlook to be rather belittling to the writer; it's almost as if the writing doesn't matter.  But as we all know, Harry Potter is about much more than just one sparkly idea.  These books are what they are because the author wrote them.  That same concept in the hands of any other writer would have turned out to be completely different.

5)  Ideas are like subways: any minute now there will be another one.  When I worked in toy development, our department had a attitude that boiled down to this: "If a competitor wants to steal our idea, let it.  We'll have an even better one in five minutes anyway."  The minute you think of your idea as one link in a long chain of great ideas, then that one idea doesn't seem all that ground-breaking anymore.  If you coddle and protect your idea like it's something precious and priceless, you run the risk of getting too attached and taking the project too seriously.  Have confidence that another better idea is always just a brainstorm away and that even if someone does "borrow" your concept, they'll never be able to execute it like you will.

Now go out there and do something wild and crazy and unique!

Guest Post: "For All the Haters" by Elizabeth Dunn-Ruiz

 Today we have a guest post by the lovely Elizabeth Dunn-Ruiz.  Elizabeth was a classmate of mine during the MFA and writes beautiful poetry as well as heartbreaking teen literature.  She is also poetry editor of Verbal Pyrotechnics, a literary magazine dedicated exclusively to teen literature.  So if you have poetry that appeals to a teen audience, feel free to check out the submissions page and send it her way.  For more about Elizabeth, visit her blog at: A Lil' Sumpin' Sumpin'.  And now here's Elizabeth's take on why people hate on poetry.

Some people are scared of sharks, others of heights, an intruder in the night. Sure, a fearfulness of all of these things make sense; each could kill you after all. But why, then, are so many writers of fiction afraid of poetry? What has a poem ever done to you? Huh?

Okay, maybe it’s bored you, confused you, made you feel something you weren’t prepared to feel, but it certainly has not killed you! In fact, I’d argue that some poems are more scared of you than you are of them. Like this one, called “Poem that Begs for Reassurance”, by Peter Davis*:

My experience with the world around me is that I either feel it's awful, or I feel that it is great. Right now I feel like this poem is awful. I feel like I am awful. I feel like an outcast in the literary world. Nobody reviews my work. As far as I can tell, nobody really talks about me. They do, but it's never enough. I'm not besieged with e-mails soliciting my poetry. I keep waiting for something to happen. I mean, this is a good poem. Other people seem to have so much going on. I read their bio notes and think, "Well, jeez, how do they all do it?" I say to my wife, "Honey, I always feel a few steps behind. How can I do all of that in this poem?" Some of them maintain blogs with numerous links and a lot of daily hits. Others don't even have blogs! All around me poets are winning prizes and being included in anthologies like The Best American Poetry. Some at very young ages. Some of these people, if they don't already have tenure-line teaching positions, are very strong candidates for tenure-line teaching positions.

    Now, before that familiar fear bubbles to the surface, turns itself into rage and makes you shout What? That’s not even a poem! Stop, and breathe. And try and keep in mind that a poem is simply compressed language used to express emotion or ideas.

Perhaps in high school some archaic, convoluted, and important poem was paraded in front of you so that you--in a role of simple spectator--could analyze it, elucidate its virtues and confirm its place in the canon. The teacher didn’t ask you to get in there and walk around with the poem, hold its hand, listen to its secrets and share yours in return. No, you were just supposed to coolly observe it, as if it were the other, then write a five paragraph essay, sans  the word “I”.  Maybe it was then that you decided that poetry, like AP Calculus or showering in the locker room, was just not for you.

Billy Collins, America’s Poet Laureate from 2001-2003, in conjunction with the Library of Congress, created Poetry 180, a collection of poems to be read aloud, one a day for all 180 days of the school year, in an attempt to demystify, de-stress-ify, de-analyze-ify poetry and help us all simply experience and, perhaps even, appreciate poems. The first poem in this series is his, and, fittingly, it is called “Introduction to Poetry” and I think it is awesome.  He writes:

I ask them to take a poem

and hold it up to the light

like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem

and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem's room

and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski

across the surface of a poem

waving at the author's name on the shore.

But all they want to do

is tie the poem to a chair with rope

and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose

to find out what it really means.

We have been conditioned to think there is a right and a wrong response to a poem, that it can only mean one thing, when in fact that is not true at all.  When the pressure of analysis is removed, I think many of us who claim to dislike Poetry-with-a-capital-P are actually surprised to find that many poems are you know, quite likeable. 

I find that reading a few poems in a variety of styles before I sit down to write can help me generate ideas and approach my language differently. Poetry compresses ideas, emotions, and images into very few words and this is a skill that all writers can benefit from.  Look at this poem by Jane Kenyon:

Otherwise

I got out of bed

on two strong legs.

It might have been

otherwise. I ate

cereal, sweet

milk, ripe, flawless

peach. It might

have been otherwise.

I took the dog uphill

to the birch wood.

All morning I did
the work I love.

At noon I lay down

with my mate. It might

have been otherwise.

We ate dinner together

at a table with silver

candlesticks. It might

have been otherwise.

I slept in a bed

in a room with paintings

on the walls, and

planned another day

just like this day.

But one day, I know,

it will be otherwise.

In it she compresses a life into a few short images. The first introduces us to a character, a domestic setting, and, through the use of one key word, “strong”, indicates that she is grateful for her current health. Her use of repetition emphasizes the idea that we all make choices about how to live life. The slight modification to the repeated sentence powerfully implies that the speaker appreciates the choices she has made and the life that she leads as a result of those choices.

The content of this poem could have been the subject of a short story or novel, but Kenyon seems to want the reader to focus on the simple moments of a life and so she uses simple diction and sentence structure. The moments she describes, just like the poem itself, are quick and could be easily overlooked, but she is asking the reader to be attentive to the simple moments that make up a life. This poem illustrates that the structure is the message too.

As you approach your own work it is important to ask your self if your container is the right size for your content and if it’s not, adjust accordingly. You would never pack your son’s sandwich in a suitcase and send him off to school, now would you?

Another reason to read poetry is the playfulness with which many poets approach language.  Not to say that a poem is any less literary when it employs whimsy, simply that it is important to remember that language is not just about ideas, but is just as much about sound.  Take this line from Thomas Sayers Ellis’ “Presidential Blackness”, a serious poem about race and language, “…a new infinite alphabet pours from the pores of the poor…”. The cleverness of the wordplay is going to make this line jump out. It will stick with the reader because, well, it sounds good and it is fun to say. I encourage you to read your work aloud or ask a friend to read it aloud to you; consider revising anytime you need to take a breath or your friend stumbles. Listen for interesting juxtapositions and pay attention to your sentence structure. Just like my mother always said, “It’s not what you say, but how you say it, that matters.”


*I’d imagine that Peter Davis and this poem are presently feeling reassured, as he was just in town to launch the Best American Poetry 2010, in which he has four (wonderful) poems.

Technical Tips for Writing Dialogue

Hi everyone, today we're going interactive again.  Below is a piece of dialogue between iggi and me and your job is to find all the things that are wrong with the dialogue and make it NOT work.  When you think you have your answer, scroll down and read about some technical tips on how to make dialogue soar.

Here's the dialogue sample.

"iggi, I've been meaning to talk to you." Gabi said.
"What is it, Gabi?" iggi replied questioningly.
"Well, iggi, you know I've been working on this DIY MFA thing for some time, and I thought we should do a post about dialogue." Gabi explained patiently.
"Gee, Gabi, that's a great idea!!!!" iggi exclaimed eloquenty.
"So, what sorts of things do you think we should include in our post?"
"Hmmm..." iggi pondered.  "Maybe we could do an example of what NOT to do in dialogue, and let our readers try to guess."
"Hey, that's good!  I like it!" Gabi cried out.
"Let's start writing, right away!"
And iggi and Gabi ran off to the computer to write the post.


All right everybody, now it's your turn.  There are at least 7 different major types of dialogue problems in the above passage, though each problem may occur several times.  Once you think you've guessed all seven, scroll down to read the explanations.


1)  Name-calling:  Very rarely do people call each other by name when they're speaking, but you'll see it happen in written dialogue, especially if written by beginning writers.  The reason of course, is that using names in dialogue makes it very easy for the reader to figure out who's saying what, especially if you're writing a scene with more than two people speaking.  But this is not realistic, nor does it make for good dialogue, so cut out the name-calling.

2)  Exposition:  We've all seen those movies where the good guy faces off with the villain and the villain starts to monologue, explaining all the ins and outs of his diabolical plan.  That kind of exposition in dialogue rarely works because, again, people don't talk that way.  If the information has to go in the scene so the reader can follow what's going on, take the exposition out of the dialogue and just give it to the reader as straight exposition.  Here's a hint: if a character says "as you know..." or "remember how..." or something to that effect, that's a good tip that exposition is coming and you need to rework it.

3)  Fussy Tags:  Sometimes writers start getting all fancy with their dialogue tags, using words like "muttered" "cajoled" or "jeered" but these verbs do nothing more than call attention to themselves.  Sure, in general, writing thrives on strong verbs, but when writing dialogue tags, these fussy verbs just distract from what's actually being said.  I prefer to keep my dialogue as mostly he said/she said with "asked" and "replied" tucked in there now and again.

4)  Ugh, Those Adverbs:  Seriously, writers need to stop adding adverbs to their dialogue tags.  Period.  Adverbs are bad enough in exposition, where they're camouflaged by imagery and metaphor, but when they're used in dialogue tags to express the speaker's emotion, they stick out.  Granted, the adverbs in the above passage are a bit excessive even for an example of what not to do, but I made them especially bad to drive the point home of how awful these adverbs sound in dialogue tags.

5)  Dialogue Zits:  Words like "well" "so" "gee"  "ugh" and the like are what I call dialogue zits.  The description is exactly as it sounds.  These words blemish the complexion that is your dialogue and should be eradicated.  The only situation I think where these dialogue zits might suit a purpose is if they help establish a character's verbal quirks in some way.  If your character really does use "like" every other word, then sprinkle it in now and again.  Remember: a little zit goes a long way.

6)  Talking Head Syndrome:  Some writers can get away with writing all dialogue, with no tags or stage directions.  These writers are the greats and they get away with it because they slip stage directions in with such subtlety that you barely realize they're there.  The rest of us, must use stage directions in order to avoid having our characters come across as talking heads.  Stage directions are your friends.  If a character says "don't worry about me, I'm fine" and then throws the remote control at the TV, we know right away that something is going on.  Use stage directions to create subtext and give your dialogue a context.

7)  Punk.  Choo.  Ay.  Shun.  Here it is for the record: how to punctuate standard dialogue.  Learn it, love it, live it.

"My name is Gabi," she said.

When using a dialogue tag, a comma goes after "Gabi" but before the closed quote.  "She said" is not capitalized.  Period at the end of the tag.

"What's your name?" she asked.

The same rule holds true when the piece of dialogue ends with a question mark.

"My name is Gabi."  She ran her hand through her hair.

When including only a stage direction without a tag, put a period after "Gabi" and "She" is capitalized because it is the beginning of a new sentence.

For more information: visit Nathan Bransford's recent post about writing dialogue.  I focused more on technical stuff here, but he gives some great insight into the big picture stuff, so go check it out.

Today's Task:  Found any other problems with the above dialogue?  Seriously, there's got to be more than just seven... Please share with everyone in the comments.

Moving Right Along: The Ins and Outs of Plot

John Gardner once said that there are two types of stories in literature:


(1) Man goes on a journey.
(2) Stranger comes to town.





While it might seem simplistic to think that all stories in literature boil down to these two categories, but let's look a little closer, shall we?

Examples 

• Odyssey (Homer) - clearly (1), as the story revolves around Odysseus' journey but also (2) when you consider all that happens when he shows up back in Ithaca.
• Feed (M.T. Anderson)- definitely fits category (2), but we can also view the book as a journey into understanding the feed (1).
• The Wizard of Oz (L. Frank Baum) - again, it appears on the surface to be about a journey (1) but if we look more closely, we realize that it also fits category (2), in that Dorothy is the stranger that comes to the "town" of Oz and shakes things up.

So if we have all these examples where books fit both of Gardner's categories, how can we define plot?  Are all stories about both going on journeys and strangers coming to town?

The thing is, stories aren't just about people going out into the world or facing a hostile environment.  Stories are about people facing other people and that is where a lot of the conflict arises that drives the story.  And the minute we start talking about conflict, the issue of power comes up.

The way I see it, narratives break down into three categories of conflict:
   (A) Protagonist must confront an entity with more power.
   (B) Protagonist must confront an entity with equal power.
   (C) Protagonist must confront herself.

Notice how there is no category for the protagonist to confront an entity of lesser power.  This is because if the protagonist faces off with someone or something that is easily overcome, there is no conflict.  Remember: conflict drives the story.

Let's take a look at some plot archetypes that fall into these categories.

(A) is the classic Underdog Story.  Some archetypes in this category are:

• Fish Out of Water - The protagonist is confronted with a foreign environment where he/she feels like an outsider.  Note that the protagonist can already be in this environment to begin with and events transpire that make the environment hostile.  In this case, the environment is the entity with power.
• Cinderella Narrative - In a "Rags-to-Riches" story, a character of lower status (Cinderella) must convince a character of higher status (Prince) to recognize qualities of value in her.  Notice also that this story fits the "Fish Out of Water" scenario where Cinderella must pretend to be someone she is not in order to be accepted by the prince.
• David & Goliath - The underdog (David) is faced with a character much more powerful than he, but because of his innate qualities, he manages to vanquish his powerful opponent.  This is the ultimate underdog story.
• Come-Back Story - The protagonist used to have power but now has none and must turn his fate around to resume his position of power.  Revenge stories fall under this category because in this case the character resumes power by exacting revenge.
• Pygmalion - A powerful character "creates" a less powerful one, intending to use him, but the "creation" develops enough power to take on a life of its own and causes trouble. (Ex: Frankenstein)
• Secrets - The protagonist discovers a secret that threatens a powerful person or institution.  The central conflict then is whether the protagonist will be able to unlock the full secret while the entity in power tries to stop him.  (Ex: Da Vinci Code.)
• Knight (or Hobbit) in Shining Armor - There is an antagonist--a great force or opponent--and the protagonist is the only one who can stop it.  In many cases, this protagonist is not a powerful knight, but a humble character who gets pulled into the adventure.  (Ex: Fellowship of the Ring)

(B) is a Narrative of Connections story.  Some archetypes here are:

• Submission to Love - Love blinds the protagonists causing them to do things that lead them into more and more trouble.
• Star-Crossed Lovers - A couple wants to be together but they are being kept apart by some outside force.  This is a subset of the Submission to Love story.
• Lost Twin - Two characters (often enemies) are thrown together and discover a kinship or likeness between them.  (Ex: the movie The Parent Trap is a literal example)

Note: This analysis of story structure and some of these examples have been adapted  from a lecture given by Perry Brass in April 2007.

(C) Finally we have an Introspective Narrative in which the protagonist confronts herself.  Here, the protagonist has some great inner conflict that must be resolved.  This type of narrative rarely occurs on its own; after all, 300 pages of introspective monologue would be seriously boring.  Usually (C) occurs as a parallel thread to a story structure that falls under one of the above categories.

Notice that in all of these plot archetypes we have a character who wants something (to fit in, to get revenge, to find love) but that want is thwarted by some entity of either equal or greater power.  The power struggle is part of what creates the conflict and conflict is what plot is all about.

Today's Task: Examine the power in your story by answering the following questions.

1. What does your character want?
2. What's standing in his/her way?
3. What specific obstacles prevent him/her from obtaining this goal?
4. Outcome: does the character obtain the goal? What are the implications of this outcome?

Additional Resources

• The Plot Whisperer (Martha Alderson) has put together a series of podcasts that talk about plotting a story.  She also has a blog that discusses all things plot-related.
• Antonette Hornsby (AKA Ant) recently write a post about the LOCK method in developing a plot.

A Question of Character

Today is our first day of the Craft component of DIY MFA and I'll begin with a caveat.  Craft is a HUGE topic and there's no way I'd be able to cover every detail in just four posts.  Think of these Craftivity posts each as an "amuse bouche" to whet your palette, teasers to spark further study.

Today's topic is character.  One of the things I often have trouble with when developing characters is keeping track of all of their traits and details.  Here are two tricks I've come up with to help keep tabs on my characters.

Character Compass

I'm sure most of you have heard the adage: Show, Don't Tell.  Well according to Writing Fiction (Gotham Writers' Workshop), there's not one, not two, but four ways you can show your character's traits.  These are: Thought, Appearance, Dialogue, Action (or as I like to call it, TADA!).  I don't know about you, but I have enough trouble juggling one aspect of my character at a time, much less four of them simultaneously.  This is why I devised a tool called the Character Compass.

Here's how it works.  You draw a circle with two perpendicular axes (see example above).  Label each axis with the TADA techniques.  Now draw a dot on that line to indicate how much of each you used for that character in a given scene (the closer the dot is to the circle's edge, the more of that technique you used.)  Connect the dots and you get a visual representation of how you showed that character.

Now I can guess what you'll say next.  Do you really have to use the same amount of all four TADA techniques?  No.  The point of the Character Compass is to highlight what your tendencies are.  For example, using the Character Compass on a WIP, I learned that I rely a lot on dialogue and actions to show characters' traits but I rarely use appearance and I'm terrified of using thought.  This exercise was a wake-up call for me because it showed me areas of my characters that I had been neglecting.  I realized that in order to be a versatile writer it's important that I be comfortable in using all of the TADA techniques, not just one or two.

Acrostic "At-A-Glance" Bio

Another trick I picked up is what I call the Acrostic "At-A-Glance" Bio for my characters.  I'm sure many of you can relate when I tell you that I write these long, extensive bios for my characters.  Trouble is, I forget half of the information when I actually sit down to write.  I got frustrated paging through long documents to look up details about my characters so I devised this method of creating "At-A-Glance" Bios.  These character bios are so small, I can write them each on one index card and tuck them in my notebook.  Here's how it works.  (This technique was inspired by the poetry of one of my favorite authors, Lewis Carroll.)

Step 1: Write the character's name vertically on the page so that each letter gets one line.
Step 2: For each letter of the character's name write a trait or important detail about the character.

Example: Cheshire Cat from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

Cat
His grin stays behind
Eccentric
Says "we're all mad here..."
Hides out in Wonderland
Invisible at times
Reappears gradually, sometimes not completely
Exceedingly mad

Croquet with the Queen
Appears and disappears
Talks in riddles

These acrostic bios are tricky but they force you to think of your character in terms of specific, concrete details.  In the end, I haven't abandoned regular character bios completely, I just use these acrostic bios as a way to keep the most essential traits of my characters on the tip of my mind.

Today's Task: try your hand at one of today's techniques.  Or, if you prefer, share another tip or trick you've used that relates to developing characters.

Revision Pyramid

Last week Lady Glamis at The Literary Lab raised an interesting question about critique and how many times we writers are conditioned to look only for the negative.

In response to this thread, I started pondering how we critique not just other writers' work but our own.  Just as I am a believer in focusing first on big picture issues when I read pieces from other writers, I find that approach also works best when revising my own work.

As a former student of psychology, I'm reminded of Maslow's hierarchy of needs, where humans will fill their most basic needs first (food, water, shelter) before trying to fill needs that fall higher in the pyramid (love, companionship, success).  My own revision system falls into a similar pyramid shape:

Character: Whose story is it?  This is the most basic part of the book.  If you don't have a compelling character, then the rest of the pyramid will fall apart.  (Notice I say "compelling" character and not "sympathetic" or "likable," but that is a topic for another post.)

Plot/Story: What story are you going to tell?  Now that you have a character in place, the character needs to want something and that want will drive the story.  Things need to happen to get in the way of that want.  There needs to be conflict.


Structure, POV and Voice: How are you going to tell this story?  These are the main choices you make when you decide how to tell the story.  The voice of the narrator ties in directly with point of view and the structure you choose for the story.

Description and Dialogue: Decisions made at this level are less about "big picture" and are smaller in scale.  At the same time, though, they are not as nitty-gritty as the revisions at the top of the pyramid.  Description and dialogue also tie in closely with character development and elements of story so this is why they are in the middle of the pyramid, serving as a bridge between the macro decisions at the bottom and micro decisions at the top.  Description and dialogue also clue in the reader to Where and When the story is taking place.

Theme: This is all about the Why.  Why are you telling this story?  Why do we want to read it?  Usually these answers only come together once you've written a draft, maybe two, which is why theme falls at the top of the pyramid.  Very rarely do stories start with a theme and grow from there.

Language:  At the very top we have the micro decisions.  Word choice.  Grammar.  Spelling.  Small stuff.  Just because the writing might not be super-smooth on the language level doesn't mean it can't shine at the character or plot levels.  What I try to stress to writers is that the bottom of the pyramid is the hard part.  If you nail that, you'll have done the hard work.  Language is just a matter of using spell check and keeping a copy of Strunk & White's Elements of Style on your desk.  And getting a trusted friend to proofread when you're through.

Basically, revision all comes down to this:

Don't sweat the small stuff until you've dealt with the big stuff.

Journey to Poetry

Today Lady Glamis at Literary Lab posted a follow-up to her poetry discussion and it got me thinking about what it is that I love about poetry and why some of it resonates with me and some of it doesn't.  In other words, why did I go from having such a visceral hatred of poetry to suddenly rediscovering its beauty.  Let me sum it up.

It's not that I dislike poetry, I just dislike bad poetry.

Let me backtrack a little bit.  For starters, I should be the last person to complain about bad poetry because I was a purveyor of bad poetry myself, once upon a time.  When I was a teenager I was obsessed with poetry--in particular sonnets.  I scribbled hundreds of terrible sonnets in the margins of my textbooks, all of the poems about how unjust the world was and how misunderstood I was.  Of course, at the time, I thought they were seriously deep, but now I'm glad those textbooks have long since been recycled.  To tell the truth, writing poetry was my way of passing the time during boring classes and looking back, while the fruit of all this writing was pretty awful, at least it kept my brain working.

My resistance to poetry began when I started taking writing classes.  The tricky thing about poetry is that there are so few words and language is boiled down to its barest essentials so when it's good, it can be very very good, but when it's bad it's horrid.  This makes poetry especially challenging to discuss in a workshop setting.  Don't get me wrong, I'm a firm believer in the workshop process; I think everyone should be free to submit rough, messy drafts in a workshop and learn to make them better.

The trouble with poetry began in one of the classes I took some years ago, where I sensed a certain defensiveness around the poetry submissions that I didn't get when reading fiction pieces.  It was as though everyone in the class would back away in deference.  After all, this wasn't fiction, it was poetry and poetry was personal so who were we to critique it?  And when I raised my hand and said "Um... I'm sorry, but I just don't get what the poem's trying to say" the class struck me down so fast I thought I hallucinated the whole thing.

Thing is, as a result of repeated exposure to less-than-wonderful poetry, for several years I assumed that the only reason I didn't "get" these poems was because I was too dumb.  Then, I discovered Kim Addonizio's Ordinary Genius (which I reviewed earlier this month) and this book is in large part responsible for my change of heart regarding poetry.  Suddenly, I realized that I wasn't too dumb and I could make sense of poetry if I really tried.  Better yet, I enjoy it even if I didn't understand it completely and simply relish in the language.  The best part was, I could even try my hand at it and write some poems of my own.

And here, of course, was where the real journey began.

Drama

David Mamet, executive producer of CBS's drama The Unit, wrote a memo to the writers on the show. While his memo focuses on writing for television, much of the advice is applicable to writers in all fields. This memo can be found at this link and was also quoted on the Longstockings blog.

Mamet's main message is that to create drama, you have to show rather than tell. He writes: "The job of the dramatist is to make the audience wonder what happens next: not to explain to them what just happened or to *suggest* to them what happens next." In other words, the writer's job is to write the stinkin' scene, not tell us what happens in the scene or what's going to happen.

He continues: "Any time two characters are talking about a third, the scene is a crock of sh*t. Any time any character is saying to another 'as you know' that is, telling another character what you, the writer, need the audience to know, the scene is a crock of sh*t."

This advice is especially apt for fantasy or sci-fi writing. In these genres (the former of which I am currently attempting as my master's thesis), a world exists that the writer knows inside and out, but the reader is discovering it for the first time. The temptation is almost irresistible to have characters over-explain the rules of their world in dialogue or narration, but doing so would kill the drama of the story.

It all comes down to this: trust that your readers are smart and have faith that they will trust you, the writer, to show them what they need to know in due time. And remember that writing does not reside in dialogue alone; stage directions and description can do as much showing as do the words spoken by the characters.

As Mamet says: "If you pretend the characters can't speak, and write a silent movie, you will be writing great drama."

iggi says...