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Story insights from the director of Pixar’s Up

How would you like to listen to a master story teller for almost an hour? You can. Radio West recently interviewed Pete Docter who directed Pixar’s recent motion picture Up.

Docter has been with Pixar since the beginning and he shares a number of insights into story telling. He talks about the importance of emotional hooks, getting ideas and developing them via the creative Q&A process, and editing a story from schlock to greatness, and much more. What a wonderful interview.

Click here to listen.

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  • Bloodless Grammarians

    I’m beginning a study of linguistics. Well, an author’s study, which is different from getting a degree or anything like unto it. I’m looking for what’s useful for a specific project. And when I want to know about a subject, I’ve found it’s best to start with the juveniles and encylopedias so I can get the big picture and the actual pictures (who said picture books were for kids?) and then move to more detailed and specific stuff. Well, I came across a marvelous quote within the first 30 seconds of Wikipedia’s entry on Linguistics:

    Linguistic inquiry is pursued by a wide variety of specialists, who may not all be in harmonious agreement; as journalist Russ Rymer put it:

    “Linguistics is arguably the most hotly contested property in the academic realm. It is soaked with the blood of poets, theologians, philosophers, philologists, psychologists, biologists, anthropologists, and neurologists, along with whatever blood can be got out of grammarians.”

    Whatever blood can be got…

    (grin)

    That’s going in a story, somewhere, I gotta use that somewhere.

    Zing, Baby!

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  • Will Kindle save Asimov’s, F&SF, and Analog?

    It’s widely known that total circulation (sales) numbers for the main science fiction and fantasy magazines have been dropping for years. For example, in 1983 Analog’s circulation was around 115,000. Asimov’s and Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, while not that high, were in the same general ball park. A lot has changed since then. Sales took a huge hit in the early 1990’s and continued to drop almost every year. However, last year something wonderful happened. Numbers went up.  

     

    Gardner Dozois, in his summation of the SFF industry for 2010, found in The Year’s Best Science Fiction Vol 28, from which 2010 and 2009 numbers were taken, mentions that the growth numbers for Asimov’s subscriptions were driven in large part by “digital copies sold for e-readers through devices such as the Kindle,” and that Analog’s increase in subscriptions was “also largely because of digital sales.”

    We all know that ebook took off last year. It will be very interesting to see the increase in total circulation continues for these magazines in 2011. Here is the supporting data that was collected from the reports in The Year’s Best Science Fiction volumes 20 – 28. Total circulation is made up of subscriptions and newsstand sales. Sell-through is a measurement of the % of the copies displayed in newsstands (at Barnes & Noble etc.) which sold. I added the Realms of Fantasy figures just so we could see, with the magazine recently dying its third death, just how big it once was.

     

    Of course, a fascinating question is: what are the chief factors that led to such a drastic decline in the first place? But I don’t know anyone who has been able to provide data to suggest what the chief cause(s) are. If anyone knows of one, please post in the comments.

    Wikipedia: Analog Science Fiction and Fact,

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  • Excellent advice from author Larry Correia

    Larry just wrote a great post about Writing Gun Stuff. Down at the bottom, he says this:

    I’m not one of those people who gets hung up on “rules of writing”. . .  If it is awesome, and your readers like it, write it. [emphasis added]

    Amen to that. And if you’re going to write about characters with guns, read the rest of the of the post.

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  • |

    Jolie, Salt, & trading suspsense for surprise

    Last week I went and saw Salt. Wow. The movie started with a bang and was off to the races with lots of great action. Unlike many action films where the characters perform stunts which are simply too hokey for me to buy into, I found myself believing in all but two of Salt’s. So I was wowed most of the time instead of thinking about whether they were using wires or what or that it was all so wrong and geeze don’t these guys have consultants? They weren’t as stunning as the opening of Casino Royale, but what is? 

    But it wasn’t just action. The premise and acting were all great as well (yes, I recant, I slammed Jolie a while back as an actress cast only for her face value; and while you know that’s one of the reasons why she was here, she still was convincing in her role). Furthermore, the story had a lot of great reversals and reveals. But this was also its ultimate downfall.

    When I got to the ending, I did not feel a climax release. No catharsis. No afterglow. It just ended and left me feeling empty. It’s an awful feeling. Totally unsatisfactory. Such a maddening cut off. 

    But why? It was all so good up to that point.

    *** SPOILERS ***

    As I was talking it over with Nellie I believe I indentified the answer: in their effort to be surprising, the director and writers removed everything that would have built suspense. So instead of getting a Sixth Sense ending where the surprise adds to the climax and gives it a wonderful texture, we got a slap of surpise and then nothing.

    For me to feel relief, triumph, and the desire to stand up and cheer–all those great climax emotions–I have to be worried about a character. Stressed, thinking they’re going to fail. They need to fight courageously against insurmountable odds and actually come to a point where it appears all is lost. Where I groan inside. All this creates massive pent up worry and anxiety for them. And at that point, the character snatches victory from the jaws of defeat.

    Boom! The climax floods me and it’s delight, relief, cheer, joy.

    It’s just like a football game where we bite our nails until the very end. Where our non-ranked team is playing the #3 team in the nation. Maybe we jump ahead in the second quarter, but in the third we fall behind. We make some great plays but can’t catch up. And when we do put points on the board, the other team immediately responds. There are three seconds left. We’ve stalled at the twenty yard line. We have one more play. From the moment it starts it appears to be broken, our QB is going down, and then . . . he passes to a running back who has made some space. Who is standing open in the end zone! Yeeeeeaaaaaaahhhhhh!

    In order to feel a release a climax, something has to build up. The thing that builds is worry, fret, desperate hope. This is what we mean when we talk about suspense. We know the team’s goal, see their predicament, see the overwhelming odds. See them about to lose it all. The dread of defeat and what will be lost rises.

    But in Salt the director and writers went for the effect of surprise instead of suspense and triumph. The moment Salt starts in on the Russian president I thought she was the bad guy. Yes, there was the bit about the spider that had me wondering. Yes, I knew she felt anguish about her husband being killed (that smart little reveal in her expression). I knew all of that. But the movie kept me busy thinking she was the bad guy up until almost the very end. Everything in the film lead me to believe this. Not because I didn’t get it. I got it precisely. It’s exactly what the director wanted. It was the setup for the big surprise/reversal at the end.

    But when they went for surprise by not letting the audience know what Salt was really up to, the immediately removed the possibility of suspense. So I didn’t feel any suspense at her infiltrating the old group of spies. No relief at her killing them–that was just her revenge. No suspsense when she went to the White House. Nothing when she chased the president down the elevator shaft. The whole time I was thinking, crap, they really did indoctrinate her. She’s bad.

    More importantly, there was no rooting, no worry building to release proportions.

    Not until the very end do we realize what she’s been trying to do. Oh, the role reversal with her and Ted Winter (btw, like Liev Schreiber who plays the part) was all a big surprise, as it was designed to be. But the surprise faded and there was . . . nothing to replace it. That’s how surprise works. It’s a relatively short effect. 

    Yes, she kills Winter. Yes, he was a threat at the end with his scissors, but I didn’t care that much. I hadn’t been whipped into a fever pitch. Not like I was in Gladiator with the emperor and the lead in the coliseum. There was no pressurized worry ready to burst. There wasn’t any because we hadn’t had any time for it to build and because by that time nothing for Salt was really at stake. The one meaningful thing she stood to loose–her relationship with her husband–was taken away from us in an earlier scene when he was shot dead. So what was at stake? A big old nuclear war. Well, who cares about that? Nobody. It’s too generalized. We cared about Salt and her husband.

    The result was that the director and writers traded climax for surprise. Alas.

    So here’s my conclusion. Surprise is a relatively easy effect to create. You simply have something unexpected but logical occur. Relief, triumph, climax needs something much different. And surprise can be a part of it. But in our effort to build surprise we must not remove the conditions necessary for please-dear-mother suspense. Suspense requires we root for and worry about a character for a significant period, our unease growing until it’s drawn taut, straining. All the time something significant has to be at stake. Something we can sympathize with. Something personal to the person we care about. Only then can we feel the climactic release. Only then will we stand up and cheer in holy-crap-no-way relief and delight.

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  • Indie Thoughts: Lessons from Heather Justesen

    From Heather Justesen, who writes clean romance.

    Two years ago I was working full-time for peanuts (seriously, it didn’t even cover the mortgage–and we didn’t live in a palace.) I quit to write full-time before I went completely insane. By December 2012 I had replaced my c-store income. By April 2013 I earned enough to pay ALL of our bills. Since then I’ve been the primary wage earner for our family, allowing my husband to close the business that was sucking all of the life out of him, and for us to move halfway across the country. He does bring in some money still, but even in my worst month we can pay all of the bills from my writing income. I’ve sold (real sales, not counting freebies) over 60K books in the past eighteen months. I’ve got audiobooks for most of my indie titles and I’m starting to see sales into bookstores. I would have to have one heck of an offer to even consider a traditional publisher’s contract. I’m very happy the way things are.

    * * * *

    Kevin, don’t lose hope. I have books that sell in the single digits every single month despite great reviews. And I have books in a different genre that sell really well every month (not blockbuster well, not top 100 well, but enough for us to get by on.) I didn’t do it with the first or second book, or the fourth book, I had nine books out before I started to make pay-the-bills money, and most of the money, even now that I have 18, comes from a single series. The others make very little [emphasis added]. Maybe give the genre a twist and try something a little different, but still in your general area of interest. Try a different genre that interests you, or just hang on and keep writing. Get feedback, learn more, and keep working at it. I wrote for nearly a decade before I had a book good enough to be in print (before Kindle really took off, or I had enough trust in myself to go it alone, so it was with a small press.) This is a craft, you can’t learn it overnight and success rarely comes overnight[emphasis added].

    Having three books out making six figures a month is crazy good, and definitely not the norm, and yeah those kinds of numbers can be discouraging, but a lot of the other stories here show that it can come. Most people who persevere eventually start to make decent money in indie publishing if they’re doing everything else right. Your covers are pretty good, so try changing up the descriptions and see if that helps. And keep writing.

    More on The Passive Voice.

    A series, lots of product, and an audience that has been under-served for years.

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