The Novel Writers Academy – Do you want it?

ByJohn Brown

Are you tired of being educated ABOUT writing?

Do you just want someone who knows what they’re doing help you do it?  

Specifically, do you want to develop a killer story idea, outline it, and write the first 3 chapters with the guidance of a pro?

If so, then here’s your chance to vote to have me create a course that will do just that. 

Read on for more information…

Educating versus Training

When you’re educated about something, you can talk about concepts and principles. You can recall facts. But most people I know don’t want to be educated about writing. They want more than another class, podcast, video, or book about the topic.

They want to be trained.

They want to develop a killer idea, sketch it out, and actually begin writing. Not just watch or read about it. But they want some help.

I’ve been asked many times if I would teach an online class or workshop, but I’ve put it off for years because I know that I don’t want to offer just another set of videos about writing.

Of course, I will offer just videos. That’s all some people want.

But I know there are others out there who want to go beyond that. They want on-the-job training. They want to develop a fun story, but don’t know the process well enough, and want someone who knows it to guide them.

They want training.

But training takes time. More than the time it takes to create videos or posts.

That’s what I do, by the way. When I’m not writing novels, I work in corporate America training people to actually do things. Over the last 20 years I’ve trained people to do everything from give compelling presentations and speak Dutch to plan and schedule manufacturing plants and close their accounting books at the end of a financial period.

And so I know there’s a difference between being educated about something and being trained.

Just think about it. Do you want a surgeon who has been educated about surgery or one that’s been trained to perform surgery at a mastery level? Do you want a plumber who has been educated about plumbing, or one that’s been trained to plumb? Do you want your airplane pilot to be educated about flying or trained to fly, in all sorts of weather?

Going to school and being educated is cool, awesome, and necessary. But we all know we have to go beyond that. We need to be able to actually DO things. Training requires you know concepts and principles, but it also requires you take the next step and actually do something.

Do You Want Training?

I’m willing to provide this on-the-job training, but before I develop and conduct this course, I need to know enough people are interested in it for it to be worth my time (it would probably be more sensible for me to focus exclusively on getting the books I need to write out the door, but I love to teach too, and had to figure out a way to do it).

So here’s the test. If you want to take the class described below, sign up to express your interest.

This does not obligate you to anything. It simply says that you are almost 100% sure you want to take the class, barring earthquakes, plagues of demons, or crazy in-laws.

When enough people signup, I know it will be worth my time, and the love of teaching part of me will be able to convince the sensible part of me to do it.

And then I’ll do a Kickstarter to make it official. Or I may just develop and release. We shall see.

So, here’s more on the course.

Your Novel’s Core: Develop a Killer Idea, Outline it, and Write the First 3 Chapters

The first order of business is to determine if this course is right for you.

Do you want to write a novel, but feel like you have no idea what you’re doing?

Do you often get ideas for a character or setting or snippets of scenes and dialogue, but find they just never go anywhere?

Are you tired of learning about writing, and just want someone who knows what they’re doing help you to do it?

If so, this class is for you.

This is not a theory class. Oh, we’ll talk about theory. You’re going to learn a ton of theory. But this isn’t about theory because I don’t care about theory. And neither, I suspect, do you. I care about developing an awesome story experience and sharing it with readers who enjoy it as much as I do.

So I’m not interested in talking about it. I’m interested in doing it. And having fun.

Which means that in this course you’re going to:

  • Develop at least 10 story ideas that beg you to write them
  • Select one of those ideas and create an outline
  • Write the first three chapters of that novel

In order to do that, you will need to learn the secrets to:

  • A story idea that works and how to come up with one
  • Interesting characters and how to develop one
  • Transporting your reader to the story so they feel like they are witnessing the whole thing
  • Keeping readers on the edge of their seats
  • What story and plot are really about
  • Writers block and why it’s a gift (no, really, it is)
  • Knowing what comes next
  • Getting feedback from beta readers that’s actually helpful (and if you don’t know this, much of what you’ll get will be worthless)

These secrets and many more. But remember: this isn’t a course about secrets. It’s a course about you actually improving your ability to generate story ideas, develop them into ideas worthy of a novel, and then write them.

This means you need to not only produce, but also have someone who has the ability look at your work and guide you along. It means getting feedback.

So I will be there helping you every step of the way. And if you’re writing in a genre I don’t know as well, I will loop in working authors who are successful in that genre to add their two cents.

Fumbling in the Dark

I started my novel writing career when I received a three-book, $50,000 deal from a major publisher. I am now an indie author with books that sell thousands of copies each year to readers all over the world. I’ve had publishers purchase and produce my books in audio. I’ve sold story rights to foreign publishers. I love developing and telling stories. And I love teaching others how to do the same.

But when I started, years before that novel contract, I had no idea what I was doing. I didn’t know where to start stories, how to develop them, or even where they were supposed to end. And I didn’t have anyone to really help me. In fact, I remember asking one of my creative writing professors after class how you knew where to end your story. He looked at me, shrugged, and said, “I don’t know. I just end them.”

What the heck?

It was all a vast mystery. I loved stories, but I was clueless about what they were, how they worked, and how someone went about developing and writing one. I had a lot of fun, enjoyed my writing teachers (they were all great people), but I was never able to write something that hung together and felt like something you’d see in a movie or read in a book.

But that didn’t discourage me. I kept at it. And over the years, I made a number of breakthroughs.

What I discovered was that there are three things you must learn to write killer stories. You must learn:

  • What stories do to the reader
  • How they do that
  • And effective techniques for both developing and telling the story

In this class, you’re going to learn those three things and the key principles for each, saving yourself all the frustration and discouragement that comes from trying to discover these insights by stumbling around on your own in the dark. With this class, you can cut years off the time it takes to learn how to write.

When you know these three things, you will be able to write stories on purpose, instead of by accident. You will have power over your craft.

You will see that instead of trying to remember a list of hundreds of “writing rules” or use “writing formulas,” many of which are nonsense, you’ll write by focusing on the simple and fundamental heart of what storytelling is all about.

Course Outline and Price

Below is a more detailed view of the course. My lessons are called quests because I’m expecting you to actually do something, not just watch.

Quest 1: Discover what stories do, then create your personal story profile

  • The three things you must learn to write killer stories
  • Your personal story type
  • The three main reader responses you must generate
  • The big secret: trigger and delay
  • Genre
  • Sensitizing yourself

Quest 2: Discover what you need at the core of your story, then perform a craft analysis of 2 of your favorite novels and report your findings

  • The story engine (without this, your story goes nowhere)
  • What makes characters interesting
  • The vital THOMR
  • The desire to gain or retain something specific
  • Formidable obstacles
  • Uncertainty
  • Surprise
  • The same but different
  • The 3 grunts

Quest 3: Discover the secret to developing ideas, then develop 10 fully-formed story ideas that beg to be written

  • The 4 main creative principles you must follow
  • 5 super productive techniques for generating ideas
  • Creating a schedule and goals
  • Using the story engine job aid
  • Using the setting job aid
  • Using the magic job aid
  • Using the world building job aid
  • Using the character job aid
  • Using the formidable obstacle job aid

Quest 4: Discover how to figure out what comes next, then develop your story sketch (outline)

  • The number of scenes for your story
  • The story cycle
  • Story turns
  • Trigger and delay
  • Structure, and why structure models so often fail to help

Quest 5: Discover how to transport your reader to the story, then write your first three chapters

  • Techniques for telling your story so it’s vivid and clear
  • Narrative summary versus narrative detail and when to use  each
  • Effective description
  • Writing point of view, hot and cold
  • Orienting the reader
  • Transitions

Quest 6: Discover the three main effects you should read for, then deliver a reader report for the first chapters of seven different novels

  • The 3 grunts (the secret that allows you to learn from other novels)
  • Reader report rules
  • How to get feedback for the rest of your project

Quest 7: Discover your next steps, then create a plan

  • Methods to write quickly
  • What you need to do to publish independently
  • What you need to do to publish with a traditional publisher

As you can see, in this course you aren’t going to just hear someone go on about theory. You’re going to define your type of story, surprise yourself by developing at least 10 solid story ideas that beg to be written (by you). Then you’ll select one of those ideas, sketch an outline, and write the first three chapters, all under my guidance, using the same practical, simple methods I use.

Most important of all, you’ll actually stop thinking about writing and be well on your way to finishing your novel with a clear path to the end.

Instead of dreaming about someday, you’ll enjoy the excitement of writing a novel right now.

The cost of the course depends on what you want:

  • Access to all of the videos: $199
  • Access to all of the videos and two rounds of coaching on your story idea, outline, and first three chapters $399

Not for everyone

Having said that, you need to know that this class is not for everyone. If you are not willing to actually make time to do the work I ask, you will find no benefit.

How much time will you need to spend?

With all of the videos, reading, and development you’ll do, you should expect to take 30-40 hours. You can move through it at your own pace, but I strongly suggest you spend at least five hours per week. Any less than that, and you’re going to find it very difficult to keep your creativity hot enough to make dinner.

Also, if possible, I recommend you take the course with a friend. You will progress so much more quickly when you discuss the lessons and insights and bounce your ideas off of each other.

If you want to just watch the videos, that’s perfectly fine. If you want to actually develop a story and learn on the job, then you have to make time to do this awesome thing, just as you would if you wanted to learn how to dance, quilt, race cars, rappel, or paraglide.

So if you aren’t in a position to make the time, I understand. Please don’t sign up.

But if you’re interested, then click below to raise your hand as someone who is definitely interested. Once I see there are enough people interested, you’ll get the class.

Yes, I’m definitely interested!

If you’re interested, let me know by filling out the form below.

This does not obligate you to anything. It simply says that you are almost 100% sure you want to take the class, barring earthquakes, plagues of demons, or crazy in-laws.

* indicates required



Share

Similar Posts

  • Generating Story 9: Creative Q&A with Author Ian Creasey

    ByJohn Brown

    So how do writers use questions in their story development? Let’s hear first from Ian Creasey, whose short fiction has appeared in magazines such as Asimov’s, Realms of Fantasy and Weird Tales, and has been reprinted in several Year’s Best SF anthologies.  His excellent collection Maps of the Edge was published last year. 

    Stories Are Made Of Scenes

     by Ian Creasey

    I’d like to begin by thanking John for the opportunity to write a guest post about the technique of using questions to help create stories.  This is not a “where do you get your ideas?” post.  Rather, it assumes that you already have a basic idea, which you want to develop into a complete story.

    I’ll use one of my own stories to illustrate how the question technique works in practice.  The questions themselves are sufficiently general that they can be applied across a whole range of stories.  What tends to change is the order in which they are asked.  I find that stories sometimes start from an idea for a specific detail, in which case the process involves working backwards to develop the appropriate context.  In other cases, the initial idea is rather abstract, and the task is to flesh out the premise with sufficient detail.

    My example story is “The Report of a Doubtful Creature”, which was published in Orson Scott Card’s InterGalactic Medicine Show (November 2009).  I mention the publication date, because this was actually the seed for the story.  The year 2009 marked the bicentenary of Charles Darwin’s birth, and also the 150th anniversary of the publication of Origin of Species.  I live near the Yorkshire town of Ilkley, which Charles Darwin visited just before the first edition of Origin was published.  I therefore decided to write a story about Darwin’s visit to Ilkley, with the aim of getting it published in November 2009, exactly 150 years after the first edition of Origin of Species in November 1859. 

    So I had a story I wanted to write, without any notion of what its plot might be.  The technique of asking questions helped me to shape the story, and I’ll list some of those questions here. 

    Who is the story about?

    For my particular story, the answer is already in the premise: it’s about Charles Darwin.  But other times, it’s not immediately obvious who a story might be about — for instance, if the initial idea is to explore a technological or social development, then there is a wide range of people who might be affected.  In this case the standard advice is to ask, “Who is the most hurt by this development?  Who has the most to lose?”  That person is often a suitable protagonist (or antagonist) for the story.

    What is the story about?

    In this example, it’s fairly obvious that the story has to be about evolution.  There’s not much point in writing a story targeted for the anniversary of the Origin of Species, if it’s not about evolution!

    What is the conflict?

    The Origin of Species is a famously controversial book, symbolising a clear conflict between science and faith.

    Wow… so far it looks easy, doesn’t it?  It may appear that I’ve cheated by starting with several questions to which I already know the answer.  But in fact I’m illustrating the point that if you have the germ of an idea for a story, then there are already some questions and answers implicit in your premise, no matter how vague it may initially seem to be.  It can be useful to state these answers explicitly, to help crystallise the starting position.

    What is the specific example?

    This is what John calls a “power question”, a key question that can be widely applied, and which cuts right through to the essentials.  The question “what is the specific example?” can be asked in many contexts (e.g. in considering how to show characterisation), but I find it particularly useful when framed as, “How does the conflict manifest itself?”

    This isn’t mathematics: there’s no right or wrong answer.  But you need some kind of answer.  It’s a classic beginner’s mistake to write a story entirely in abstract terms: telling the reader about the conflict, without showing it.  Stories are made of scenes.  There should be at least one scene which dramatises the overarching conflict by putting a specific example onstage.

    A short story will typically hinge upon a single scene that illustrates the core of the conflict.  A novella or novel may require more instances, e.g. a small-scale scene near the beginning, and a large-scale scene toward the end.  But the principle of needing specific examples still applies.

    If I say that I’m going to write a story about evolution, and the conflict between science and faith, I’m speaking in general terms.  I need a specific example.  The device I chose was to have Darwin encounter a strange creature, which might possibly be a fairy.

    What are the stakes?

    This is another “power question”.  It’s a way of saying, “Why does this story matter?  Why should the reader care?”

    There are different ways of addressing the question, depending on whether you develop the story on a top-down or bottom-up basis.  If you start from specific details, then you may need to establish that those details represent important issues.  Conversely, if you start from the big issues, then you need to establish that your illustrative details are sufficiently representative.

    For my story, the question of evolution (i.e. science vs. faith) is already a high-stakes issue.  So the crucial task was to establish that my specific example adequately represented the issue.  Basically, if fairies exist — so what?  Why would that affect evolution?

    Here is the answer from the story, in Darwin’s words:

    “My theory of natural selection requires that life proceeds by common descent.  All creatures are related, however distantly.  So any particular creature must possess living relatives, of some kind; and ancestral forms should be preserved as fossils.  Any beast, however unprecedented to man’s eyes, must fit somewhere within the Linnaean taxonomy.

    “If fairies exist as material creatures, what genus do they occupy?  Where are their fossils?  (The fossiliferous strata contain an imperfect sample of past organisms, yet surely we could hope for one example to be retained from the entire fairy lineage.)  If the traditional description be correct — like a small man with wings — it is clear that fairies cannot fit anywhere within the existing genera of Mammalia.  We could only accommodate them within Animalia by supposing an entirely separate line of descent, one which has left no close relatives, no intermediate forms, and no fossils.  The evidence does not support it.

    “It would be simpler, therefore, to suppose that fairies were a separate creation.  After all, why should we require all creatures to be related?

    “We indeed require it, for if we allow that any creature may be a separate creation, then we must allow the possibility to all creatures.  How could I argue that a wolf must have descended from canid predecessors, if I cannot argue likewise for a fairy?  Any opponent could simply say, ‘The wolf was independently created in its current form, just like a fairy.’  I would have no refutation for such a critique.  Even those who accepted the Wolf might balk at the descent of Man from simpler progenitors, if given the excuse of the Fairy.

    “My hypothesis must explain all creatures, or it explains none.  Everything, or nothing.  The thought burned in my mind: If this fairy truly exists, it will destroy my whole Theory.”

    What choice does the protagonist face?

    This is another “power question”.  A story tends to feel more meaningful if the protagonist faces a genuine choice — a difficult decision.  The nature of the choice obviously depends upon the overall conflict, but its onstage manifestation is determined by the specific example that illustrates the conflict.  So when deciding upon an example, it’s helpful to bear in mind the choice that the example implies.

    In my story, what choice did Darwin face when he encountered the fairy?

    “A thought struck me that it would be simple to let the creature escape, thus avoiding the revelation of what it might be, and what it might imply.  The temptation seemed to hang in the air before me, needing but a single step to reach out and grasp.”

    Where does the encounter happen?

    Once the specific example has been selected, and its importance has been established, our questions move to the realm of practicalities.  We must decide how the example is “staged”.

    Stories are made of scenes.  The scene begins when the protagonist encounters the situation, whatever the situation is.  So the author’s task is to decide where and when that encounter takes place.

    For my story, I needed Darwin to see a fairy.  How could that happen?  Maybe he goes out for a walk, and simply happens to see one.  But that feels rather coincidental: too obviously contrived by the author.  Also, at the time the story takes place, Darwin is ill: he’s in Ilkley to take the “water cure”.  So he’s not likely to be wandering very far.

    I decided to introduce a secondary character: a woman who had captured the fairy.  She knew that Darwin was a famous naturalist, so she asked him to come and see it.

    It’s important for a short story to remain focused, and not become cluttered with too many characters.  It’s dangerous to answer every question by introducing a new character.  But in this particular case, it was a useful solution.  I started off with only a protagonist, Darwin.  He didn’t have anyone to interact with.  By introducing a secondary character, I allowed myself scope for dialogue, interaction, and contrast.

    Conclusion

    I’ve deliberately ended this post on an anti-climactic note, because although stories conclude with a climax, this doesn’t mean that the climax is the last thing you work out when writing it.  Personally I find it easier to begin by shaping the overall structure of a story, including the ending, before I work out all the nitty-gritty staging details.

    The questions that I’ve listed here are, obviously, not exhaustive.  But I hope they give an indication of how an abstract idea can be turned into a detailed narrative.  In my opinion the most important thing to remember is this: Stories are made of scenes.  The most useful questions are those which help you envisage a particular scene.  Once you can imagine the scene in your head, half the task of writing it is already done.

    John sez . . .

    So are you curious about his story yet?  If so, “The Report of a Doubtful Creature” is available to IGMS subscribers at http://www.intergalacticmedicineshow.com/cgi-bin/mag.cgi?do=issue&vol=i15&article=_003 . You can also learn more about Ian and his work at www.iancreasey.com.

    I’d like to thank Ian for taking the time to write up his process on this story. I though he made a number of interesing points. Did you notice what he said about envisioning scenes? Did you see that at least one of his questions is particular to this story and might not be used on any other?

    Understand the core principles. Get a list of core questions. But then realize you’ll need to use creative Q&A as you go with all sorts of questions, large and small.

    For more in this series, see How to Get and Develop Story Ideas

    Share

  • Stephenie Meyer, Envy, & Zing

    ByJohn Brown

    If were smart and didn’t compare myself to other writers, then I wouldn’t care that Meyer is a true overnight success, I wouldn’t be green with envy, I certainly wouldn’t be thinking that I should write YA romance.

    His eyes were smoldering…

    She couldn’t look away from his smoldering eyes…

    His yellow smoldering eyes were upon her…

    Alas, imperfect man that I am.

    Time has written an interesting article about the Meyer phenom. Of the many fine tidbits, I wanted to highlight one comparing Meyer with Rowling.

    But as artists, they couldn’t be more different. Rowling pieces her books together meticulously, detail by detail. Meyer floods the page like a severed artery. She never uses a sentence when she can use a whole paragraph. Her books are big (500-plus pages) but not dense–they have a pillowy quality distinctly reminiscent of Internet fan fiction. (Which she’ll readily grant: “I don’t think I’m a writer; I think I’m a storyteller,” Meyer says. “The words aren’t always perfect.”)

    I’m not a writer, she says.

    I’m a storyteller.

    There are volumes in that one paragraph. Meyer knows exactly why the vast majority of us fiction readers read. And it ain’t for style.

    Here’s an even more interesting video clip of Meyer talking about how she came up with her novel. Notice how this woman follows the zing. Notice how she makes time (novel completed in three months). And look at her success. A lesson to all of us wanting to tell great stories.

    …His red eyes were smoldering, and her brown eyes were smoldering, and together they were all smoldering…

    Share

  • The Three Rules of Great Antagonists?

    ByJohn Brown

    Jennifer Crusie is a long-time pro writer. In Filled with Glee: The Unauthorized Glee Companion by Leah Wilson, Crusie had this to say about antagonists in her essay “You Think That’s Hard? Try Being an Antagonist, That’s Hard”: Why Sue Sylvester is Essential to Glee” 

    “Sue is riveting, not only because she’s a fascinating character in her own right, but also because she embodies the Three Rules of Great Antagonists: (1) She is much stronger than the protagonist she sets out to destroy, (2) She will stop at nothing to achieve her goal, and (3) despite all that strength and implacability, she’s a vulnerable human being, not a cartoon.” (130)

    You know what I think of rules and of form outside the context of function. So here are my questions to you writers who follow my blog and have been following the posts on suspense:

    1. What function or effect do these qualities have on the reader or on story elements that impact the reader?
    2. Do all great antagonists exhibit these three qualities?
    3. If not, are any of these critical for antagonists?
    4. What’s your conclusion about these three rules?

    I’m interested to see what you come up with. And don’t be afraid to post your ideas. I really want to hear your take. You might want to read her whole essay.

    Share

  • The Handout for the Killer Story workshop at LTUE

    ByJohn Brown

    I was expecting 30 people to attend the 3 Things You Must Learn to Write Killer Stories workshop. I mean, heck, who wants to listen to me when you could, on the very day designated for it, be pitching woo? But  about 60 brave souls came out. So here’s the handout for all of you who didn’t get one.

    Killer Story Workshop Notes

    Had a wonderful time at LTUE. I simply love Utah Valley–it’s full of so very many good memories for me. And this will simply add to that.

    Capture the zing!

    Share

  • Some Key Concepts for Love Stories

    ByJohn Brown

    My first four professionally published short stories were all love stories of one kind or another. I love good love stories. And so when the Writing Excuses team podcasted about this topic with Dave Wolverton, I was excited to hear what they had to say. Of course, they didn’t dissappoint. However, I would like to add a few things here.

    1. A love story or romance is a happiness story. The problem is one of danger to, lack of, or opportunity for the happiness that comes with having a close bond with someone else. To be loved and included, to be valued by someone.

    2. Love stories don’t have to be between two characters who are romantically interested in each other. They can be between two people who become friends or a person who is on the outs with a particular group as with RAINMAN, or between a father (or father figure) and son as in TREASURE PLANET, or a mother and daughter.

    3. It seems to me that these social story problems can be broken down into four elements.

    1. Raising the idea
    2. Making the characters attractive
    3. Raising obstacles and conflict
    4. Showing signs of progression

    RAISING THE IDEA

    Just as with any story problem, we have to know there’s an issue. The idea of possibility or lack has to be presented to us. And the specific person who we hope the character bonds with has to be identified. How is this done?

    Lots of ways. But I can see two big ones right off the bat. The first has to do with what a character notices about the other person. In a romantic love story, it might be some thoughts about another’s attractiveness, either looks or character. This could happen when the character sees the other person, touches them, hears them speak. And it doesn’t have to be a stranger. Perhaps they had a crush on that person when they were younger. There are all sorts of cues we use to signal romantic potential. All we have to do is raise a few of those for the reader and the idea is planted.

    The second way the idea is raised is by having some other character raise it. Someone else notices the person and thinks them attractive. Or they make a suggestion that our character getting together with them is a possibility.

    So when Jack sees Mary he can think about when the blankety blank she’s going to get off the commando team because all she does is distract the men. Not him, of course. Or Bill can tell Jack that Mary has been watching him. And Jack can say, she can look all she wants because she’s never going to get a piece of this.

    MAKING THE CHARACTERS ATTRACTIVE

    The second thing I see that’s necessary is that the other person is attractive to the reader. Or, at least, the reader could see how the character could be attracted to this person. This doesn’t always have to be physical beauty. Nor does it have to be sexual attraction. A buddy story would be about something else–about someone who we think is admirable in some way. But it has to happen for the reader to believe the story.

    Of course, our hero may be duped. Jack might be falling for Cindy when she’s really just after his money. The readers know both sides and can see how Jack’s choices make sense, even while we feel great anxiety of the trouble coming down the line. 

    RAISING OBSTACLES AND CONFLICT

    These are key, of course. No obstacles or conflicts and there is no story. Jack sees Jill. Says I love you. They marry. The end. So we have to have obstacles. They can start immediately with the character recognizing a possiblity. For example, Jack is simply oblivious to Jill’s interest in him. And when he decides to trust his friend’s advice to pursue her, he sees her with another man. She’s not an option for him afterall.

    If we think about yes-buts and no-furthermores and that usually the hero has to fail at the end of act 2 for us to feel triumph at the end of act 3, we’ll see that obstacles and conflicts progress just as they do in any other story.

    There are many obstacles or points of conflict. Distance (CASTAWAY), social status, fears of rejection, a stuttering problem, another person who Jack is interested in or who Jill is interested in, something Jill does that Jack doesn’t agree with, jobs that are demanding and keep them apart or make them keep secrets (TRUE LIES). Are too closely related. It’s against your vows or values (you’re a nun or he’s a client) Etc.  Many are internal and have to do with trust, fear, competing desires, and commitment.

    The key to the obstacles, I’ve found, is in making it hard to choose or fulfill commitment. It isn’t about sex or kissing. Because you can have a story where two people have sex and it doesn’t resolve any tension in the love story (what if the guy is seen that night with another woman?). It’s about two people being able to say I love or value you and meaning it.

    And so anything that would keep them from commiting works. And after they’ve committed, anything that would make one recant. Or be unable to enjoy that love going forward.

    SHOWING SIGNS OF PROGRESSION

    The last thing is that the audience needs to know that things are moving forward. In plotting, we need a few yesses along the way or the story’s over. How do we do this? What are the signs? I can think of a few.

    1. The character’s thoughts are more and more about the other person, noticing all sorts of things, dealing more and more with inner dilemmas.
    2. The character’s actions become more and more open. The lingering looks, or glances she tries to  hide, the touching. The character’s words become more and more direct. Usually oblique at first and then more clear later.
    3. There is more validation from other characters.

    Why do so many stories have the characters in a romance dance? Not because dancing is some mystical thing. No, it’s a romantic cue. We associate romance with dancing. And being in such close proximity raises the pulse. But you can put people in close proximity in many other ways–in a crate as they’re being smuggled into the country, standing smashed together in a subway, retracting a bullet from the leg, cutting and washing hair (John Travolta in PHENOMENON), etc.  The reason why we do this; however, is so that we can get a yes, a sign of progression. Of course, we could also use it to raise a devestating conflict as when Maria dances with Captain Von Trapp in THE SOUND OF MUSIC. But that’s only devestating because during the dance they had declared in subtle ways that they were interested in one another.

    So we raise obstacles and show signs of progression, back and forth, the obstacles pointing more and more toward disaster until at the end of act 2 Jack loses…and we get the no-but plot turn. No, he’s failed completely. But then a desperate glimmer of hope…

    In the end we need final confirmation. One thing that says, yes, they’re committed. Often in romantic love stories writers use sex as a blunt confirmation. I think it’s often the lazy way out. Here, show Jack and Jill having sex. Okay, next plot point. It’s lost most of its power for me. And such a thing should be anything but cliche. My advice is to think of many other ways that show commitment and value. A few examples off the top of my head are what Dean Koontz in his ODD THOMAS series did this for Odd and Stormy, FAR AND AWAY with Joseph and Shannon, WHAT ABOUT BOB, and SABRINA. In fact, having sex was turned on its head in this one. Lovely.

    At least think about other options because romantic love stories are not about sex. Sexual tension stories are. But that’s a different problem. A different type of story. And it seems writers sometimes confuse these two. Romantic love stories are about two people finally saying, yes, I love you, I value you, and I mean it, and always will. And as an audience, we believe.

    And if that doesn’t move you, then remember that one of the things we go to stories for is surprise. Something new. How wonderful would it be if something as simple and Jackbiking into Jill’s work place with a parrot on his shoulder is the ultimate moment of the story, and says everything that needs to be said? And when Jill looks up at the commotion, her heart to this point hardened or desolate, and sees the bird, the audience weeps or cheers…

    Share

4 Comments

  1. I would really love if you would start this up. This would help me further my writing so much, I’ve wanted to start a book and I have started it but i feel like this would help me further my progress and capability to create a book successfully. My former teacher Amy Lamborn said that she would recommend this for me highly. Please consider,

    Sincerely, Leahdon Heimuli

  2. Leahdon, thanks for expressing interest. As soon as we have enough people sign up like you did, I will create it. So if you know others who are like you and want to learn how to do this, let them know about it. If the decide it’s right for them, you’ll be that much closer to getting it 🙂

  3. I won’t be able to afford it right now. VERY tight budget, but I have really liked all the presentations I’ve heard you give.

Comments are closed.