Villainous Heroes

ByJohn Brown

If we root against villains based on moral judgments, then how is it possible to root for heroes who are not just bad boys but down right criminal, e.g. hitmen, mobsters, thieves?

It’s a wonderful question that has a simple and revealing explanation.  We root for these bad guys because they’re really good.

What?!

When talking about bad heroes, what we often do is:

1. Take them out of their context.
2. Focus on one or two negative traits, not the person as a whole.
3. Abstract them and miss what’s happening in real time as we process the story. We only have so much working memory and usually can only think about what’s being presented versus what we think about when we’re out of the story. What’s being presented in the story is mostly the threats to these heroes, not the consequences of their evil deeds. And if the consequences are show, it’s always modified by context (#1 and #2 above).
4. Confuse fascination with rooting.

When we actually look at what’s happening with the hero in the context of the story, what we find is that rooting is still based on moral judgments of who is good/right and who is not. We root for people we think are in the right (given their context) or are getting, undeservedly, the short end of the stick; we root against people who we think are in the wrong.

Here are some examples.

DISNEY’S ALADDIN

Thief. This one’s easy, I grant it. But it’s illustrative. I never once didn’t root for the boy. But I also never saw him as a true bad boy. He was nice. He shared the bread he stole with kids less fortunate. The guards were mean brutes. Jaffar was wicked and threatened the sultan and Jasmine who were good and innocent. was in a situation that provided some leeway for his behavior (alone, penniless).

1. Context. He’s fighting a much greater evil, someone we are rooting against.
2. Whole Person. He is a thief, but he’s also kind. Given his whole person, he falls on the side of good.
3. Processing. As we process the story we’re never shown awful consequnces of his theiving. Mostly just the good and courageous things he does. And the threats to his welfare.

THE ITALIAN JOB

Thieves.

1. Context. The movie starts with a heist and then a betrayal and murders by a traitor. Yes they’re theives, but we wittness a greater evil. The people they fight against are worse than they are.
2. Whole person. Except for the thieving, he’s a likeable guy.
3. Processing. We see few negative consequences of their actions to others, but we are constantly being presented with threats to them by guys who are committing greater crimes.
4. Fascination. I was incredibly interested in the scam–the plans, tech, everything.

THE PROFESSIONAL

Mob Hit Man

1. Context. He’s protecting a girl from other hit men. He’s fighting a bigger evil. He’s also taken advantage of by his boss.
2. Whole Person. He’s a hitman, but more time is spent on his kindness.
3. Processing. We see very little of the effect his hits have on others. Instead we are presented with threats to the girl and him.

DIRTY HARRY

Murdering vigilante

1. Context. He’s stopping guys who are doing terrible things.
3. Processing. We don’t focus on negative consequences of his vigilantism, but the threats from these really bad guys.

MATCHSTICK MEN

Scammers of the elderly

From IMDB “Roy’s private life, however, is not so successful. An obsessive-compulsive agoraphobe with no personal relationships to call his own, Roy is barely hanging on to his wits, and when his idiosyncrasies begin to threaten his criminal productivity he’s forced to seek the help of a psychoanalyst just to keep him in working order. While Roy is looking for a quick fix, his therapy begets more than he bargained for: the revelation that he has a teenage daughter–a child whose existence he suspected but never dared confirm. What’s more troubling, 14-year-old Angela wants to meet the father she never knew. At first, Angela’s appearance disrupts her neurotic father’s carefully ordered routine. Soon, however, with his own unique spin on parenthood, Roy begins to enjoy a relationship he never dreamed of having with his daughter.”

1. Context. Much of the time is spent his on his loneliness and issues with his estranged daughter.
2. Whole person. He steals, but we never see huge suffering from it. We see all the other issues he deals and have sympathy for him.
3. Processing. We’re focused on the threats to him, not the consequences of his one negative trait.
4. Fascination. I was fascinated by the scam and this pulled me along through the first.

CONCLUSION

What happened in all these stories as I experienced them was that the story carefully managed my view of the hero. He was always on the better side of the antagonists. He was always more good than bad, even if only by a little. And the story focused my attention most of the time on the bad/threats/consequences flowing from the antagonists, not the bad from the hero’s deeds.

What this shows is that you could write a story about a villain and make him the hero. In some instances it might be exceedingly difficult. For example, I think Hitler would be a hard sell as a hero, someone we’d root for. But the Neo-Nazis prove it’s not too hard a sell for some people. 

I don’t think recognizing the fact that we can make “bad” people sympathetic means authors are “simply being clever” or “pushing buttons.” After all, to write well you must believe and care about what you’re writing about. YOU have to believe it. Nor do I think it undercuts the notion that we root for people based on a moral stance. It just recognizes the fact that moral judgments, in fact, the vast majority of appraisals of situations, happen quickly with the facts at hand, which are the ones in our working memories. The ones the authors are controlling.

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    Is Product Popularity Random?

    ByJohn Brown

    In Why Publishing is Making You Crazy—and What You Can Do About It: The Tao of Publishing, Steven Axelrod and Julie Anne Long write an interesting post that takes some findings made by Duncan Watts and attempts to explain why writers should only focus on the quality of their work because they cannot reliably affect popularity in any other way.

    I agree with them that social-influence seems like a good explanation for the sometimes unexplicable successes we see in publishing and the difficulty publishers have in both predicting and producing a steady stream of hits. However, I do not find support for their main conclusion that writers can do nothing but write.  In fact, I suggest that Watts’ findings show quite the opposite.

    Axelrod and Long base much of their argument on an experiment conducted by Duncan Watts that tested the power of social-influence on music selection in some controlled music websites. Watts summarizes his findings in the excellent Is Justin Timberlake a Product of Cumulative Advantage?.

    In his part of the post, Axelrod points out that the Watts findings indicate “50% of the factors affecting your career could be totally outside of your control—totally random” and that “unless we can separate out those random factors which contributed to an author’s past success [and we can’t, Axelrod suggests], anything we can say or predict about why she succeeded will invariably be way off-the-mark.” And therefore “what’s interesting—and chilling, as well—is that there’s evidence that the harder a person works to make sense of a random event, the farther they’ll end up from the truth.”

    In other words, the only thing an author can reliably do to improve the popularity of his stories is focus on their instrinsic quality. And get more stories out so he has more shots in the fickle social-influence game.

    I agree that having more product in the market increases your odds. I also agree that focusing on the intrinsic quality of the writing can do the same. I even agree that this is where authors should spend most of their time. However, Watts’ studies do not indicate other efforts are wasted. In fact, they suggest the opposite.

    Watts does not controvert anything we now know about marketing. What he does is clarify the power of social-influence in our decision making and the dynamics of ONE type of endorsement system. What Watts shows is:

    1. A perceived non-bias endorsement of your product can have a huge effect in the product’s popularity.
    2. The intrinsic quality of the product has an effect on popularity, but social-influence plays as large or larger role.
    3. Popularity in the system set up in the test websites depended on the decisions of a few early-arriving potential endorsers, i.e. good early reviews (downloads in this case) are amplified and lead to an effect he calls “the richer getting richer.”
    4. In this one endorsement system, neither a future endorsement nor the identity of the early endorser can be predicted.

    These findings, however, need to be put in context. From cars, to camcorders, to recipes, the popularity of a product depends on three main factors. These aren’t new ideas and publishing is no different than any other industry. The factors come from long-standing marketing practice:

    1. Visibility (people know about it)
    2. Endorsement (recommendation from an attractive person, trusted authority or friend, or trusted system like the perceived unbiased reviews on Amazon or “most downloads” stats)
    3. Attractiveness (intrinsic to the product, the perceived value offered the target market, and the social effect as pointed out by Watts)

    Each of these three affects the other two. Visibility makes endorsements and initial attractiveness possible. Endorsements make a product more attractive and more likely to be visible. Attractiveness makes something more visible and more likely to be endorsed. And round and round we go.

    It’s true that Watts shows 50% of the effect is due to endorsement. But nowhere does Watts suggest an author cannot increase the probability of visibility and endorsement.

    In the study, the endorsement method used was a counter showing the number of times the song had been downloaded. It was random, anonymous, and perceived as unbiased. That was a controlled environment. However, what if a singer had been able to ask all those he knew who loved his song to download it from the site? Or what if someone organized such a campaign independent of the singer? Both actions would immediately affect the probability of the song increasing in visiblity and endorsement and, hence, popularity.

    It’s too bad Watts didn’t test this in one of his sites to see if he could make a winner. As it was, all Watts was doing was seeing if he could predict a success by quality alone. He was passively observing, not actively taking measures to increase visibility and endorsement.

    Furthermore, the counter is just one type of endorsement system. There are a number of others. We’ve all seen how an Oprah endorsement can move the market. The identity of that endorser is NOT random and has great predictive value. Her decision to endorse is still random. But what if you have a way to make your book visible to her? Would it be a waste of time to do so?

    Robert Sawyer loves to tell of one action he took with someone with much less endorsement power than Oprah and the effect it had on his sales. Was Sawyer guaranteed visibility and endorsement from that action? No. However, he DID increase the probability, and it resulted in sales. Here’s his account.

    Watts confirms that endorsements have a mighty effect on popularity. Even something as simple as a “most downloads” counter can easily overwhelm a listener’s own reactions. But the logical conclusion is not to do nothing. The logical conclusion is that if authors want to increase their popularity, they must not rely only on the intrinsic value of their product, but they must also search for ways to increase visibility and endorsement.

    Axelrod is correct that it’s sometimes difficult to see the effect of any given marketing campaign or tactic. This is because marketing efforts are probabilistic, not deterministic. However, probabilistic does not mean random. Furthermore, it does not indicate you cannot increase the probability of success. While publishers may not be able to produce best sellers every time, I’m confident if they decided to stop marketing altogether, sales would drop.

    Will all efforts succeed? No. Any marketing progam needs to consider the effect of diminishing returns. The effectiveness of some actions may be difficult to test. Furthermore, authors may not have the budget to run a campaign large enough to increase their probabilities, although there are strategies to become a big fish in a small pond (see Geoffery Moore’s Crossing the Chasm).

    Despite all these issues, we know, in general, getting endorsements helps. In general, the right placement in book stores increases visibility. Author visits to schools, if done right for middle age readers, can also increase visibility. Radio interviews, if done right, do the same. There are many things that DO improve an author’s odds. We can increase the probability of visibility and endorsement by taking intelligence, consistent action.

    And that’s good news. We might not be able to guarantee a hit, but one thing IS certain—we’ll have no direct influence on visibility and endorsement if we do nothing.

    (BTW, for those interested, here’s a great presentation on a related idea:Six Degrees: The Science of the Connected Age a presentation by Duncan J. Watts.)

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  • Generating Story 5: Hunt Zing

    ByJohn Brown

    Even after you choose a genre, you still need to develop ideas for character, setting, problem, plot, and text.

    What do you do? How do you develop those ideas?

    The first thing you do is hunt zing.

    Feeding the beast

    Zing is any idea that turns you on, sparks your imagination, or stokes your desire. Zing tingles your cool meter. Dude, yes, ah, oh baby, man-o-man, great oogily boogily–these are all common responses when you come across these types of ideas.

    Most zings are small tingles. Sometimes they’re zaps. Rarer still are the freaking gigawatt monsters that shake you about and leave you breathless. But I’ve found I can’t wait for those. Or maybe I should say that they often come only after I’ve caught smaller prey.

    Your imagination is a beast. Feed it and it will get up and terrorize the neighborhood on its own accord. Starve it and it will lie there like a gigantic dust mop and gather flies.

    Nothing in, nothing out.

    YOU MUST FEED YOUR IMAGINATION!

    Some of us might feel we don’t have much to feed our imagination. Most of us are not Ann Franks or CIA agents or little old ladies caught in terrorist plots. But we don’t have to be.

    I once taught teen writers workshop where we met one day each week for three weeks. During the first class I introduced zing and told the students they were to hunt for 10 zings each day.

    They were dismayed. They groaned. Ten? Was that possible?

    The next week all of the students came back bubbling about all the things they’d found. One of them said it had changed things for her: her world which had been relatively hum-drum was suddenly filled with the cool. The other students agreed.

    We all are limited by what we can perceive and focus on. Our working memories are so small. And so it’s easy to focus on so many mundane business-of-life things and miss the wonderful show of lights that goes on around us.

    This is what hunting for zing does for you. It quite literally changes your world.

    Be a hunter.

    Capture the zing.

    This is the first step. You have to gather interesting material. Lots of it. Which means you must turn your zing sensors on.

    What do I mean by this?

    Open your eyes and ears and heart. Be on the look out. When something cool comes along, capture it. Use scratch paper, the back of a receipt, get a notebook, a folder file, a camera, a sketchbook. Just capture it when it comes. And it will come.

    Most of the ideas are never used, but unless you capture them, i.e. notice them, you won’t get the ones that do develop into something special. For many of us writing them down is the way to really give them the attention they need. I promise you: these little scraps and snippets have a way of combining at the oddest moments, and suddenly you have more than an itty-bitty old zing, you have a freaking power plant!

    The Drag Net

    Having your sensors on is like deploying a drag net—it catches whatever swims into it. One of the benefits of this is that you get ideas you’d never in a million years come up with on your own. Here are some random things I caught in my drag net.

    Some people actually raise chickens in their apartment (from a book I happened to pick up while browsing a section of the library).

    Hum, what if my character’s neighbor does that? What if it’s his kooky sister? Maybe his wife decides they need to be more self-sufficient. Or maybe she’s told a neighbor she’d take care of her chickens.

    A girl was sold to cover her father’s debts (while reading an article about ancient history)

    Could that happen today? How would that work? What if it was someone else kidnapping a girl to pay off debts?

    “The monkey, which costs $15,000, is what Truelove envisions as the ultimate SWAT reconnaissance tool. Since 1979, capuchin monkeys have been trained to be companions for people who are quadriplegics by performing daily tasks, such as serving food, opening and closing doors, turning lights on and off, retrieving objects and brushing hair. Truelove hopes the same training could prepare a monkey for special-ops intelligence.” (From an online newspaper that’s sent to me each week)

    A SWAT monkey? Come on! Could this primate be put to nefarious purposes? What if he stole something incredibly valuable? What if a major thief uses them? What if it’s a boy in the neighborhood?

    There’s a guy who lets his toenails grow to horrible lengths; they look like claws. It’s incredibly disgusting (Something a friend said about one of his friends in an email)

    Does your main character have a partner? Someone they work with in the office? A mate in their medieval army squad?

    GARDEN GROVE (CBS) — An Albertson’s supermarket on Harbor Boulevard was evacuated Monday after a burglary suspect fell through the ceiling to the ground near a cash register.

    What if that’s your main character? What was he doing stealing copper? Maybe he was forced to?

    Headline in Daily Mail Reporter: Ghurka kills 30 Taliban. ‘I thought I was going to die… so I tried to kill as many as I could’: Hero Gurkha receives bravery medal from the Queen. Corporal Dipprasad Pun defeated more than 30 Taliban fighters single-handedly.  Used the tripod of his machine gun to beat away a militant after running out of ammunition.

    Could this be used as a scene in the story? What about the tripod business?

    In this May 2011 security camera frame grab provided by the Stevens County Sheriff’s Office, dogs are seen at the home of a resident near Deer Park, Wash. A pack of dogs has killed about 100 animals in the past three months while eluding law enforcement and volunteers in northeastern Washington state. The killings are happening in a wide area of mountains and valleys west of Deer Park, a small town about 40 miles north of Spokane, authorities said. (AP Photo/Courtesy of the Stevens County Sheriff’s Office)

    What if these guys are roaming the neighborhood where your character lives? What if it’s a fantasy story and these are not just dogs? Are they bewitched? Trolls? Something come in from the woods?

    As far as pictures go. How about this gal? Would she fit in a romantic comedy? A murder mystery? What if she went missing? What if someone kidnapped her son?

    What about this newspaper clipping? Click on the image and read the fine print.

    All you have to do is start asking questions of these zings and they can’t help but produce character, setting, problem, and plot.

    Deploy your drag net.

    Do it now.

    Hunting With A Purpose

    Even though your drag net is out, you cannot rely on it to deliver all the ideas you need. Very often you need to go hunting with a purpose. In fact, whenever you have development objectives, you’ll be on the lookout for that thing you need to develop.

    Let’s say you want a funny and new fight scene in your story. Look at the stuff above.

    • A fight including that gal in the wedding dress?
    • One in the space the copper thief fell from?
    • How about one in a chicken apartment?

    Maybe you need a new love interest.

    • What if she’s the copper thief?
    • What if she’s out hunting the wild dogs?
    • Maybe he’s the guy who kidnapped the nun?

    Do you see? When you have a purpose, you look at the things you come across with a different lens.

    But you might need to be a bit more active in your hunt. You might need to do some things to find what you’re looking for. I’m talking about directed research.

    An Example

    I attended Orson Card’s literary boot camp. He had us take a day and develop five story ideas (or seeds) which we were to write down on ONE side of a 3×5 card (hum, sounds a bit like the story setup we talked about in the previous blog).

    2 of the cards were for story ideas we developed from research conducted at Barnes & Noble or in a library

    2 were for ideas developed from a drag net of events or curious things I saw that day

    1 card was for an idea developed from an interview with someone.

    The assignment was to look at things as a writer, to exploit what I see as a writer. On the card we were to tell a story. The fundamental idea–what happens and why. Just the idea and some events. The space limint on a 3×5 card forces you to think of story and NOT the writing.

    Oh, and the research was supposed to be for something we didn’t find interesting, which meant we didn’t know squat about it.

    I researched Iroquois Indians, women who did crazy things like going over Niagra Falls in a barrel, and some other crap I can’t remember. I also read a bit about an American Indian in 1614 who was stolen as a slave, taken to Spain, got his freedom, went to England and then back home.

    I interviewed two women in a music box shop and worker in a Thomas Kindcade art gallery. The gallery gal was blonde and rode Harleys. Had tattoos. What in the world was she doing in a THOMAS KINCADE gallery?

    I used the Elizabeth Smart poster (abducted girl) and an empty music box as my curious things.

    I worked from 5PM until 9PM on the ideas and never really got anything. Went up on a hike up Rock Canyon still thinking about it. Saw a cave; evening came; the canyon was beautiful. Marvelous. Almost stepped in a snake. Worked and worked on the music box idea and the kidnapping idea. More on the music box.

    No ideas really pulled me.

    Next morning I woke at 6 AM and started thinking. Decided I had no time AND I WOULD HAVE TO FOLLOW NELLIE’S [my wife] ADVICE and simply go with what I had. I made a decision and go with it even though I didn’t really feel it inside.

    During class, someone else talked about bone magic. It was cool! I stole the bone magic idea and crossed it with the Iroquois stuff I’d looked at and suddenly started liking my story a whole lot more. Decided the tribe that lost their only bone breaker (that’s how the magic was obtained) in a raid (he was sold to the French as a slave) and sent out a woman who knew French and a warrior to retrieve him.

    The next day I was supposed to write the story. I found I didn’t really want to write that one. Spent all day at the library reading juveniles and encyclopedias on Iroquois and Eastern Indians. Read for 5 hours then began to try to write.

    Now, let me stop here.

    Through my directed research I had collected gobs of zing. There were Indian names like “Handsome Lake” and “He Who Keeps Them Awake,” the fact that the Iroquois had a peace sachem (leader) and a war leader. The peace leader was a woman and chose the male war leader. I had stories about abducted Whites and Indians being sold into slavery and escaping. I read about men purchasing Indian wives. I added tidbits I knew from the Netherlands and Bible. It went on and on and on.

    I had TONS of cool material to work with because I’d actively gone on the hunt for it.

    If you look back as the example I shared about the golem story in the previous post, you’ll see I researched golems and Croatia and found TONS of cool material. I added to that other tidbits I already had. And the result was massive zing.

    So what happened with that Iroquois story?

    Well, I finished it, and it went on to sell multiple times. It’s called “Bright Waters”. Here’s how it starts. But the thing to remember is that it all started with the directed hunting for zing.

    Bright Waters

    In the spring of 1718 Jan van Doorn returned to his log house with a load of molasses, flour, and a fine green dress for his new wife. He found she had run out on him and taken half of his goods with her.

    She was the second wife he’d bought. And the second one to run away before a season was out.

    Her name was Woman With Turtle Eyes, an older Huron of 23 years. He had thought an older woman would be more stable than the girl he purchased the first time. Besides, she said she wanted him to buy her.

    Jan didn’t understand how the men in the settlements courted and kept their women. And it couldn’t be because he was ugly. He’d seen plenty of ugly men marry. The only ones that seemed to have any interest in him were the whores at Fort Montreal, and when he’d given in to his urges that one cursed time, they took far more from him than his money.

    There was nothing to do about Woman With Turtle Eyes. If he hunted her down, she’d just run away again. He could beat her, but she’d run nevertheless. Besides, her theft meant he’d have to start working his old claim, and there were precious few weeks before the beavers began to shed their winter coats. No, there was nothing to do but fold up the dress and put it in the cedar chest.

    He looked down upon the dress for a few moments admiring the fine, shimmering cloth. Then he closed the lid.

    That night Jan cooked himself a meal of kale and old potatoes. When he finished, he rubbed deer urine onto his traps to prepare them for the morrow. Then he went to bed.

    Remember: zings are almost always small. Don’t be looking for the ONE killer idea. Usually the killer story is made up of a bunch of smaller zings.

    “What generally happens is that I’ll be reading up on some topic just for entertainment — spies, pirates, the Romantic poets, mountain-climbing — and I’ll notice a few indications that the situation might do as the basis for a novel. At that point I declare that this isn’t recreation anymore, it’s research. So I start reading lots of books and articles on the subject, even if they’re not entertaining. And I follow any side-paths that show up — for one book, Tarot led to Poker which led to Las Vegas which led to famous gangsters. And while I’m reading all this, I’m looking for bits that are “too cool not to use.” When I’ve got a dozen or so things that are too cool not to use, then I’ve got — obviously — a dozen elements of the eventual novel.” ~ Tim Powers

    Your Zing, Not Mine

    Again, you don’t want any old idea. You want good ones. So how do you recognize a good idea?

    YOU FEEL IT!

    Good ideas carry current, they spark your interest, they tug your heart strings, they turn you on. This is what I’ve learned: a good idea is like an electric jolt. Sometimes it’s very small, sometimes it’s overpowering. It’s the feeling of “cool,” “whoa,” or “oh, boy, this has possibilities.”

    But notice I said they spark your interest.

    You’re not looking for what turns me on. For you to write a story, you have to follow your zing, not mine or your friend’s or your mentor’s.

    The trick is finding your zing and then sharing your zing with people who have similar tastes.

    Where to find zing

    There are a few places where I seem to find TONS of zing. Maybe they’ll be productive for you.

    Source 1: Other stories

    I get an unlimited supply of ideas from other stories. Here are a number of sources.

    • The news
    • History
    • Friends and acquaintances
    • My past
    • Strangers
    • Scripture
    • Gossip
    • Fairy tales
    • Poems
    • Movies
    • TV programs (fiction and non-fiction)
    • Summaries of actual court cases
    • Novels
    • Magazines
    • Biography
    • Interviewing a relative or friend for their life story

    Source 2: Snippets of life

    Every week I run across interesting conversations, lines, facts, events, images, and people. These things aren’t stories but they can be used to enhance or generate one. In fact, part of the joy of writing is finding ways to incorporate the cool things I encounter into the current story. There are many places where I find these snippets of life:

    • People I know or talk to
    • Science
    • History
    • Poetry
    • The Discovery Channel and its many cousins
    • How-to books, videos, tapes
    • Current or historical issues
    • Books on how people used to live
    • Photographs of other lands and cultures
    • People I see (The hero of my Writer’s of the Future story was based on a transient I picked up one night who lived in a storage space at the town’s used bicycle shop)
    • Learning about other people’s professions
    • Trying new things

    Source 3: Research

    This is just another way of coming across stories, facts, events, people, and trying new things, but it’s more directed.

    • Do it
    • Visit it
    • Talk to those who have done it or been there
    • Watch movies about it
    • Read about it, starting with Juveniles & Encyclopedias and then moving to thicker texts

    When I moved up into the hinterlands of Utah, I found out they had an annual local testical festival. As a regular joe I might have gagged and moved on. As a zing hunter, I couldn’t afford to do that.

    No, they do not taste like chicken.

    They do taste like something many people find delicious. But I’ll let you identify what that is with a little research of your own.

    When you get a chance to try something new–try it. You get marvelous details, wonderful ideas. And you just might find you enjoy life a little bit more. Or at least be grateful you’re not trapped in a coffin.

    I was writing a scene for one of my books, where a secondary character accidentally locks himself in a casket. Not having experienced such a tragedy, I began winging that thread on imagination alone. But the scene simply wouldn’t jell. When I finally finished the first draft and read it, it felt two-dimensional. So I wrote it again. It still stank. By the third draft my frustration level had peaked, and I shoved my chair away from the computer, knowing there was only one solution to this two-dimensional problem. I would have to experience it. Now you would think a logical person would take into consideration that the number of readers who’d actually been trapped in a casket was minimal enough to make the whole issue moot. Then again, we’re talking about a rational person…I’ll tell you, I’ve pulled some crazy stunts before, all in the name of research, but this one ranks in the top three.  ~Deborah LeBlanc

    Nobody can copyright an idea or technique

    Don’t worry about stealing ideas from someone else or using a technique you find in another story. Don’t worry that something’s already been done. What you want to avoid is copying the writing. But take any idea or technique and run with it–in your own direction. Remember: The Terminator & Back to the Future have the same premise but are two totally different stories. So go wild.

    Be a hunter.

    Capture the zing.

    Start gathering your writing material today.

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

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  • Is trying to improve your style a bad thing?

    ByJohn Brown
    By Stan Eales
    Ink and Quill by Stan Eales

    Another great podcast by the Writing Excuses team, this time on style and voice: http://www.writingexcuses.com/2008/10/06/writing-excuses-episode-35-voice-tone-and-style/

    Quesion: is it dangerous as a writer to try to improve your style?

    A lot of respected authors say it’s foolishness to focus on style. Because story is what people want. Story is the thing. Put all the lipstick you want on a pig, it’s never going to be anything but a pig.

    I agree with them. Why fiddle with the words when the content oinks? If you have to focus on something, focus on delivering killer stories.

    However, story content is not everything. There is a feeling that comes with how the story is written. You can serve prime rib on fine china in a $100 / plate restaurant, or you can serve it in a cardboard box out on the back lawn by the shed. Same beef, but not quite the same experience.

    Orson Card is one of those who cautions against thinking about trying to improve your style. I want you to read this.  

    Question 5:

    I would like to use the discussion in Lesson One as a springboard to my own inquiry. I understand that obsessively analyzing the style in which one writes can lead to bigger problems. However, my problem is not with an overall stylistic deficiency, but a very specific one. Through dialogue, the voices of the characters speak with one another. Are there any techniques you can offer which make the process of composing dialogue any easier? (I don’t expect a wonder formula, just some methods which would help me organize my thoughts a little better.)

    — Submitted by Jennifer Dittrich

    OSC Replies:

    Composing Dialogue

    The secret is not to think about dialogue as a separate task. You aren’t writing dialogue, you’re writing an encounter between characters. Part of the encounter is what they say, but part of it is how they react to each other, what they want from each other, what has happened between them in the past, who else is watching and the impression they want to make, and so on. When the characters speak, therefore, they aren’t “speaking dialogue,” they’re using words to do something to the other person — sometimes to try to get the other person to understand some information, but more often to get the other person to do something or feel something or reveal something. That’s what you concentrate on, and then come up with words you might use to accomplish that character’s purpose. Sometimes you’ll try many different opening lines as a conversation begins, and see where they go; sometimes you’ll erase long passages because they don’t feel right to you. But the solution to dialogue problems is rarely to “write better dialogue.” It’s almost always to clarify or change what the character wants or feels or thinks.

    Most often, bad dialogue is bad because it’s “clunky.” The usual cause is that you’re trying to “write well,” and your idea of writing well comes from the horrible essays you were forced to write in high school and college. Forget all that! But don’t forget it just when you’re writing dialogue — that’s bad writing even in the essays and papers produced by those very same teachers! Good writing sounds like a person talking. Your narrative sections should be written in fluid language that can easily be read aloud. In other words, your narrative should sound like dialogue spoken by a good storyteller!

    So if you worry about your writing style, especially your dialogue writing, chances are that the problem you have is that you are worrying about your writing style instead of worrying about what happens and why in the story! Bad style is almost invariably the result of trying for “good style,” because “good style” is invariably defined by writing teachers and the students who believe them as “writing like someone else who writes better than you.” But you can’t write like them, because you’re not them and their voice isn’t your voice. You can only write well when you write the way you talk, only more clearly and precisely. If you are laboriously constructing your sentences, searching in the thesaurus for “just the right word,” you are almost certainly writing unreadably; and, while you might only notice it in your dialogue, chances are you are writing badly all the time.

    How do you cure this destructive habit? Let me give you a parallel example. When I was a child, I had a lyric boy-soprano voice, complete with vibrato. I sang high and sweetly, and that ability to sing was an important part of who I was. But when my voice changed, the “high” was gone and so was the sweet. Grimly determined to get my voice back, I forced a vibrato using very bad technique — a strained, rapid diaphragmatic vibrato rather than one that arises from a relaxed throat. It made my voice sound eccentric and unpleasant — and the tightness that resulted severely limited my range. I went through my college career with that voice, even though I knew it didn’t sound all that good, because I didn’t know how to do it better.

    Then I went to Brazil as a missionary. Nobody there knew me as a performer. No one cared how I sang. I stripped away the old pretense and sang “straight,” with clear tone, no vibrato at all. I learned to relax my throat. I sounded like nothing; and then, to my surprise, a genuine, relaxed vibrato began to enter my voice on sustained notes. And my singing range increased, both higher and lower. When I came home, my singing voice was a far more versatile and powerful instrument than it had ever been before. During my forced-vibrato years, I couldn’t “do voices” — I could only sing the one way. Now I could take my relaxed voice and shape it to sound like an old man singing, or a child, or an untrained singer, or an operatic buffoon. I could sing conversationally; I could sing formally. I had my voice at last.

    But I had to stop trying to force my voice and just relax, concentrating on the song and not the singer. Before I could sing well, I had to stop trying to sing well and concentrate on singing clearly, singing to the audience.

    And if you don’t understand how this applies to writing style, I’m not a good enough writer to explain it to you any better.

    You can read it on his site here: http://www.hatrack.com/writingclass/lessons/1998-08-14-5.shtml

    Lots of great insights there. How many ways can you say, “Please, focus on the content of the story!”

    But did you notice this line: ” Your narrative sections should be written in fluid language that can easily be read aloud. In other words, your narrative should sound like dialogue spoken by a good storyteller! ”

    And this one: “You can only write well when you write the way you talk, only more clearly and precisely.”

    Card is talking about improving your style to make it more clear and fluid and authentic to you. Even while warning this questioner as strongly as possible to avoid trying to improve your style, Card prescribes improving your style.

    So style matters, even to Card. It just doesn’t matter nearly as much, in most cases, as content does. And I agree with him on his priorities.

    However, I still think Card is throwing the baby out with the bath water. Maybe because he’s seen too many wretched stories that had great style. Nevertheless, there IS a way that each of us talks. We talk that way out of habit, but also because we like some of those turns of phrases. Because certain sounds, words, and rhythms appeal to us at some level. Because they feel right.

    So what if you’re reading TC Boyle and love the rhythm of his prose? What if you figure out some of what drives that rhythm? What if you begin to use it in your writing? Is that bad?

    Or what if you notice how David Farland always puts movement into descriptive passages? Or that you use “really” and “very” really a lot in very many places? What if you like how Dean Koontz stops to paint his characters? His use of metaphor to evoke an image of a person? What if you notice how some of Card’s prose works poetically?

    What if your editor notices something you do that jars him so much it sets his teeth to rattling, and when he points it out you agree?

    What if you pick up new stylistic elements and options and try them? Are you then going to write excrement?

    No. You’re not. Because it’s natural to pick up words, phrases, manners of speaking. It’s natural to try them on. In fact, trying to AVOID this is what’s unnatural.

    I used to work with a guy named Rick Jendro. He looks like a young Sylvester Stallone. One thing I loved about him was that he is a wonderful water cooler story teller. Rick used his hands and voice and face when telling his water cooler stories. He wasn’t Acting with a capital A, but he was acting. He was evoking the story. He reminded me of another friend, Jeff Cuthbert, who did the same thing.

    I loved listening to both of them. LOVED IT. Partly because of this acting they did.

    So I noticed what Rick was doing and Jeff had been doing. The next time I told a story I let myself be a bit more free with my hand motions and actions. I didn’t study movements or anything like that. Didn’t rehearse. I found they just came when I reminded myself to let them come. I tell a better story today than I did before because of this.

    Was I wrong to delight in what they did and try it? I don’t think so. There’s nothing wrong with imitation. Good gravy, that’s how we learned language in the first place.

    My advice, lowly writer that I am, is to read and imitate. Notice things. Notice every thing that sings. Every thing that clunks. From character to plot to punctuation to paragraphing to dialogue to whatever. Then try things on. Try on structures and plot twists and dilemmas. Try on paragraphing and poetical devices like simile and metaphor. Try on everything that strikes your fancy. Get a whole closet of outfits that feel wonderful on your bones.

    And when you write, just write. Don’t worry about the style because all these new outfits you’ve got: the ones that feel most natural for the task at hand will present themselves to you when the time is right. I promise.

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  • |

    Indie Thoughts: When an author should self-publish and how that might change

    ByJohn Brown

    From publishing consultant Mike Shatzkin:

    For a number of reasons, the belief here is that most of the time for most authors who can get a deal with an established and competent house, their best choice is to take it.

    Sounds reasonable, but then we get to the money quotes.

    The strength of the traditional publishers and the traditional deals is directly related to the amount of the market that is served by inventory in stores. When that proportion was “nearly all”, the power allocation was “nearly all” to the traditional publishers.

    ***

    Self-publishing and new-style digital-first publishing can grow more to the extent that the book-in-store share of the market shrinks more. But while that’s happening, the big publishers are also adding to their capabilities: building their databases and understanding of individual consumers (something that all the big houses are doing and which the upstarts seem not to believe is happening, or at least not happening effectively), distributing and marketing with increasing effectiveness in offshore markets, and controlling more and more of the global delivery in all languages of the books in which they invest.

    It will compound the pressure on the alternative players if Amazon continues to grow its global market share for ebooks. The bigger the percentage of the market that can be reached by self-publishers with one stop at Amazon, the less interest they’ll have in picking up smaller chunks of the market with additional deals and the more powerful will be any incentives Amazon cares to offer for making the title exclusive to them.

    Link to the rest at The Shatzkin Files, and thanks to Passive Guy for the original link.

    Shatzkin’s discussion of the amount of the market served by inventory in stores is right on. But his “best choice” conclusion doesn’t follow.

    Why?

    Because the question for each author has to be which stores will I be in, what kind of floor space will I have, and how long will I be there? And in many cases the answers to those questions do not compete well with indie options.

    For example, a lot of in-store sales come from the drug store, grocery store, airport, Walmart, Costco type venues. But it’s rare than an author getting an average deal will see the light of day in those places. Those are reserved for bigger sellers. And not very many of those. So unless you’re getting a big deal, you can’t count that floor space.

    Poof. Tens of thousands of venues are now no longer part of the equation.

    So you are now left with whatever number of stores the publisher can get you into at Barnes&Noble (a max of 675 stores), Books-a-Million (max of 200 stores), Hastings (max of 149 stores), non-chain stores,  etc. I think the total number of book stores in the USA is around 10,000 or so. But publishers won’t get you into all of them. Some don’t carry your type of book: they’re used books stores, or kids book stores, or Christian book stores. And even if it’s a store like Barnes&Noble, you probably won’t get into all their stores. So how many stores will you actually be in?

    Next, you have to wonder where you’ll appear in the stores you do get into. Will you be face-out somewhere prominent? Or will you have two copies spine-out in the back? If you’re spine-out, that’s just reduced the value of the floor space publishers offer you yet again.

    Finally, how long will you be there? If you sell your two copies in a store, are you done at that store? Will your books be there longer than 12 weeks? Will they be there even 8 weeks?

    James Patterson can sell millions of books because he has multiple copies in tens of thousands of stores with great display. And he’s usually there for more than just a handful of weeks. If you have two books spine-out in each of 500 stores for eight weeks, how well are you going to do?

    Here’s some math on author revenue and units sold. Is selling 1,000 books with the royalties and contract terms offered really worth it? What about 4,000 books? 7,000? Are you going to be in enough stores with a decent placement to get those numbers?

    If you’re going to be in thousands and thousands of stores with good placement, and the terms of the contract are reasonable, then, good golly, working with a publisher looks great. But if you’ve got a book that’s good enough to make an editor somewhere want to buy rights to it and the publisher is offering to put you spine-out in a little over a thousand stores with all sorts of contract crap, then Shatzkin’s “best choice” is really a poor one. In those situations my money is on going indie.

    EDIT: It seems there are about 12,700 book stores in the USA. But that includes big-box stores, which I think are the Walmarts and Costcos.

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  • More 10-to-20’s

    ByJohn Brown

    I just posted this in one of the comments sections and realized it would be useful to everyone.

    There’s another part to this that has to do with text. There will be more 10-to-20’s that go along with it. But I think I’ll be trying to create that presentation as a video for the site. We’ll see. Right now I’ve got to finish CODG. But when you finish the ones I assigned, I suggest you add these.

    1. BEGINNINGS. Go to the bookstore or library and pick up 10 to 20 random fiction books off the shelves and then sit down with them. Pick up each and read the first two pages. Note which ones pull you in and which resist you. Identify the cause. Then see what patterns you can find.

    2. 3 GRUNTS. Find 10 to 20 short stories or chapters from different books. Read them over three or four days. Do NOT read them looking for problems, but just as you would any book you’d picked up for enjoyment. While reading make a note of any section where your interest flags, the writing or story is unclear, or you just don’t believe it. These bumps are what Orson Card calls the three reader grunts. They occur when a story is unclear, unbelievable, or boring (i.e. you grunt huh? come on? or who cares?). When you’ve finished, look for the patterns that caused this response in you. ***This is one of the key things we did in Card’s boot camp that made me feel like the mists were being parted*** 

    3. ENDS. Look at the endings to 10 to 20 novels or short stories that you’ve read. Identify which you enjoyed the most and which you did not. Look for causes. See what patterns emerge.

    4. SMALL BEGINNINGS AND ENDS. Do the beginnings and ends analysis 10 to 20 chapters and then 10 to 20 scenes.

    Of course, you can look at anything this way–plot turns, magic systems, aliens, settings, dialogue exchanges. Get 10 to 20 of them. Identify which are interesting to you and which aren’t. And then try to see the patterns. But I’d recommend you start with those above.

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