Why stories follow patterns

There is a lively discussion on The Passive Voice about Kris Rusch’s recent blog post which challenges the use of the term “churn out” to describe writers who write quickly. In the comments, someone said that folks also use “formula” or “formulaic” as a pejorative. Another commenter said that in computer design, they use design patterns, and suggested that’s probably a better word. Here’s my response.

Design pattern is right.

The people who decry familiar patterns are those that completely misunderstand one of the main purposes of fiction.

Readers go to fiction to have an emotional experience–thrill, horror, dread, falling in love, mirth, wonder, wish-fulfillment, etc.

Those emotions are not created out of nothing.

They’re not created haphazardly.

They are generated by a specific . . . pattern.

1. You receive some stimulus–from your environment or your own thoughts or something you’re lead to think, such as via a book.

2. You make an assessment about what’s going on and what might happen in the future and how that impacts you or someone else. There are two assessment systems. One is incredibly quick. Almost subconscious. The other is a bit slower. You can read about them in Daniel Kahneman’s Thinking, Fast and Slow and Jenefer Robinson’s Deeper Than Reason. Robinson even relates the science to fiction.

3. If the assessment says it’s something that will affect you or someone you can sympathize with, you feel an emotion. The emotion focuses your attention. For example, if there’s a mountain lion stalking you, you don’t want to forget she’s there. It also prepares you to act–to pursue something desirable, avoid something that’s not, etc. It also writes that emotion on the face to communicate it to others to solicit help or warn (we are social animals).

Okay, so certain cues or assessments are required to produce certain emotions. If the cues aren’t there, the emotion doesn’t arise.

Certain stimuli lead to an assessment that there’s a threat. Other stimuli lead to assessments that there’s an opportunity, for love, money, sex, security, etc.

Suspense, surprise, and curiosity have all been studied in experiments. There’s a certain structure required for each. If you take the same story, but simply change the structure, you end up with different reader effects. See more here.

This means that a reader who wants to feel the experience of falling in love is going to have to be guided through the pattern of cues that produce the assessments that lead to the emotion.

There are lots of variations in the pattern that will work. But we can’t give a reader the pattern for horror and expect them to feel romance.

Duh.

You can’t give a reader a downer ending and expect her to feel joy.

Again, there are certain delights readers are going to certain genres for. Folks read romance after romance precisely because those romances do specific things to them. And they want to experience them again and again.

For example, one thing romance readers love is the joy of a happily-ever-after (HEA) ending. So if that’s what they’re looking for, then that’s what the product must provide for them to be satisfied. We follow patterns, but change them enough so that the reader doesn’t get bored.

So, yeah. Patterns. It’s like the very essence of what we’re doing.

We are all working with patterns, whether we know it or know. And the sooner we learn what the general patterns are for the type of story we’re trying to tell, which could also be called the type of experience we’re trying to provide, the quicker we gain control over our writing.

Share

Similar Posts

  • Villainous Heroes

    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.

    Share
  • |

    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.

    Share
  • |

    Writing Update: 5/28/11 – Freewrites, Storylines, Proportion

    I finished the next chapter of my outline, which turned into three chapters. Hurray for making progress. However, I’m going to need to make more time on a weekly basis if I’m going to meet my goal.

    I’ve kept stats over the last four novels. My average is 500 words per hour during the drafting stage. That includes revising and doing quick researches etc. So sometimes I will write a smoking (for me) 800 or 900 words per hour. Sometimes I won’t finish a thing. When I’m all done it averages out to 500 words. I’m going to see if I can’t get 20 hours this next week and finish 10,000 words. 

    Addition to last week’s post

     Do you remember last week’s post about the process of making it come alive in my mind first? Orson Card illustrates this as he describes how he prepared to write a story in his essay “How One Story Can Give Birth to Another“.

    Spideysense, farmer’s faith, and freewrites

    Last week when writing chapter 7, I finished, but felt something was off.  Years ago I would have freaked about writer’s block.  I would have told myself I sucked because the chapter was glucky. But not now.  It’s a gift.  So I stopped and talked to myself in a freewrite.  I had farmers faith that if I just kept working on it, something good would result. 

    Here’s what I wrote in that freewrite. It’s an awful read for you, but it shows you just how sloppy and cryptic and freewheeling my freewrites are.

    Okay, so I’ve written the stuff below and I could tweak it, I guess. But I keep having this nagging feeling that it’s not good. It’s not a compelling villain. I think he’s creepy and evil. And, truth be told, I don’t want to make him into something other than what he is—a total thrall to the Glory and the mother. So as the “pet” of the mother, what else could he be called? I don’t know.

    I shall call you endless because you will be spared, you shall continue, whereas the rest will not. Blessing. Blessed. Grateful. What would you call a thing that did you bidding reliably? But enthralled. I am part of you, you are part of me, and so you may take my name.

    He WOULD think—I am not like them. I am GRACED by the Mother’s touch. I have taken her into myself. Or she has graced me and so I have become more than I would be otherwise. I am obedient.

    What else do you call pets or tools. Maybe that’s what she calls him. My skir master. The skir lord. My trowel. Harvester.

    He’s over the harvest. Reaper. Or he’s the one that supplies food. Supplier. Gatherer. Cook. Chef. Hunter. Provider. Butcher. Slaughter.

    So I like Endless with the whole part of him being part of her. But he could use that—”you’re just like us” “no, we are part of the XXX (what was the name I had for them?) endless. You are meat”

    Devourers, Mothers, Sublimes

    Okay, so do I go with Endless or Harvest Hope. Endless it odd, neat. What could I add to Harvest to do the same. Harvest Lord, King, Overseer, Meatman, Food provider, Feeder, Harvester, Harvest, Rancher, Collector, The Harvester. Harvest.

    I think when you’re raised, you get a new name.

    Rebellion.

    Soul collector.

    The Shepherd.

    Harvest Prime

    Bald Head

    Laughter

    Everlast

    DIVINES

    ID HIM AS THE MAIN HARVESTER

    RIGHTEOUS ANGER

    The issue was that his motive wasn’t working.  I had a feel for what I wanted him to be, and my Spideysense was telling me it wasn’t working, wasn’t interesting.  Thomas McCormack in his book calls this feeling for what you want in your story a “prelibation”.  What an odd term.  But it’s real. 

    “Prelibation.  The desire for a certain effect on the reader.  It may or may not be followed instantly by an intuition of what item of narrative will cause that effect, and it’s important to see that intuition and the prelibation it is trying to serve are not the same thing. The intuiting of the narrative that will produce the effect-wanted is the work of the imagination” (p153 The Fiction Editor, The Novel, and the Novelist)

    There’s more in his book. I recommend it highly. So, after that freewrite, I didn’t have a solution, but I’d pinpointed the issue, the prelibation. I took a break with kids into the big city. Came back and had my solution for a narrative that would do the trick.  Luckily, it was something I’d cut out of the outline. Back it went with some significant tweaks and was better than before.

    Storylines & the Size of this Presentation Phase

    For those who have read my series on suspense, at this point, the presentation of the problem for the main story and many of my sub-stories is complete.  Depending on how you categorize them, I have nine to eleven story lines (which makes it impossible to write this book in 100k words).  There’s one main story line that touches everyone—the Mokaddian threat.  Then there are other questions and issues I raise that set the reader up with the expectation for a resolution.

    1. Talen
      1. Mokad/Nashrud (external threat)
      2. Lusts (internal threat, mystery)
      3. Sugar (relationship)
    2. Legs: Vulnerability
    3. Sugar
      1. Talen (relationship)
      2. Urban (relationship)
      3. Ancestors (relationship, mystery)
      4. Mokad (external threat)
    4. Argoth
      1. Mokad (external threat)
      2. Nettle (relationship)
      3. Bone Faces (external threat)
    5. Eresh
      1. Flax (conflict relationship)
      2. The Creek Widow (relationship)

    So most of these story lines have been presented, although not all. It took about 30,000 words to finish the presentation phase. I’m estimating 170,000 words, so that a presentation phase of roughly 18%.

    There are a lot of story lines and characters to juggle. Sometimes I kick myself for having so many. Of course, I love them, despite the challenge they present. Nevertheless, I AM looking forward to writing that thriller with a limited cast.

    Share
  • | |

    One of Orson Card’s best essays

    Scott Card recently wrote “Marriage needs lots of humor.” It’s an awful title for one of the best articles of his that I’ve ever read.

    I’m not going to spoil it for you. But I will say that I’ve found that it’s the small things that seem to make the biggest difference in relationships. And this is one of those small things that packs a HUGE punch. But not until this article did I realize it.

    And for you writers who are wanting insights on what makes characters interesting and sympathetic–there’s a little treasure trove here for you as well.

    Enjoy!

    Share

6 Comments

  1. John,

    I love this post, very insightful overview of how patterns affect readers and why we writers need to be aware of them.

    I’ve been writing fiction for a number of years. Starting in 2008 I’ve taken a number of very helpful workshops and classes on the craft of fiction, including Kij Johnson’s 2 week novel outlining class at the Center for the Study of Science Fiction in Lawrence. Kij talked about appropriating what she called “spines” from existing stories to utilize them in our own stories. Your post shows why that works.

    Recently rewatched 2014 Heist movie, The Art of the Steal. Not only is it a highly entertaining movie, it’s a very clever example of the heist pattern: what’s the target/mark, planning for the heist, the execution of the heist, and the aftermath.

    Of course the writer-director of the film put his own spin on it, but the movie gave me the satisfaction I enjoy from watching a great caper unfold. Patterns, this I will keep before me and internalize as I work on my next novels. Thanks!

  2. Boy, Johnson’s “21 Monkeys and the Abyss” was sooooo good. I bet her course was awesome. And 2 weeks! Was that 80 hours? Or two evenings a week apart?

    That “appropriating spines” idea is exactly what I’m talking about, although that’s a cooler and creepier name (grin).

    And your example of THE ART OF THE STEAL is a good example. Heists are a certain type of problem and require a certain general series of events to tackle. And because we want to be in suspense and anticipation, there are certain things, cues, we have to give the reader as we roll it out.

    BTW, I’m reading Brandon Sanderson’s STEELHEART. So many parallels to his MISTBORN. Another heist-type story. And yet different.

  3. John,

    Her course was awesome! It ran over two weeks, from Sunday evening until the second Friday. There were eight of us students. Each of us submitted the first three chapters of our novels and a 5-10 page outline. We spent the first week workshopping the outlines, and the second week workshopping our revised outlines. Evenings were spent working on brainstorming the revision our novels in a group setting, with Kij and her assistant Barbara usually on hand. Kij calls this process “fishbowling.”

    I liked it so much when I got back to Oregon I formed a new writers group with three other authors. Not a critique group, but a brainstorming and support group, what Dale Carnegie called a “mastermind” group. I’ve been in my share of critique groups over the years, and they can be invaluable, but this is a whole different kettle of very inspiring fish, so to speak (grin). It has made a huge difference in my writing and mindset.

    Looking forward to reading Steelheart by Sanderson!

  4. Interesting. When you get more time, I’d be interested in hearing more specifics about how one of these are run, and how it’s different than a critique group.

  5. Hi John,

    Here’s a rundown of the brainstorming/fishbowl method for a writers group. It seems to work best with four members. In Kij Johnson’s class we had eight students, but the fishbowl sessions usually ran anywhere from one on one up to three or four writers brainstorming.
    We use this technique for brainstorming an outline, or world building, science fictional or fantasy ideation, and even for a revision outline. The author types up the outline, his/her notes, and any questions about the material she’d like the group to consider, emailing them out a few days beforehand to give the others time to read and reflect.

    The day of the meeting the author might use a white board to capture notes, draw diagrams, ETC. In Kansas we used big sheets of butcher paper and laid out post-its on them, to show plot arcs, world building details ETC.

    The group then asks the author questions, throws out ideas, and the author does likewise. This is a very organic, back and forth process. We’ve done it with world building, with bare outlines and detailed ones. It’s a perfect process for discussing the characters, their motives and any places where the logic of their actions seems to be astray, missing, or just doesn’t seem right.

    The author decides what to use out of this, and can call for a follow-up “fishbowl” if needed.

    This is the process in a nutshell. Feel free to drop me a line if you need more info or have more questions.

    Best,

    Dale

  6. Aha! So it’s not so much a critique or feedback session. It’s more of a facilitated development session where questions direct the idea generation and everything is captured as you go.

    You know, I used to do meeting facilitation. This goes right along with a lot of what I learned there. It’s interesting how powerful it is to simply capture what folks are saying on a board or sheet up front so it’s visible. Having that info in front of you, instead of disappeared into the ether, seems to always produce more and better insights.

    Thanks for sharing this!

Comments are closed.