“Would I be more excited about this book if I…”

As new writers we want to do our best but because we haven’t yet internalized all the principles, we often want to create checklists of rules. We want to list out all the the aspects of a golden story and make sure we include them.  And these lists can help.

Everything I’ve learned about building expertise suggests that experts have internalized guidelines, patterns, and concepts. But in the beginning we don’t have those internal constructs. And so we often are benefited by exetrnal support in the form of diagrams, lists, etc. Sooner or later we internalize. And what used to be conscious becomes automatic.

Case in point: Dean Koontz. In his book on how to write best sellers he states in so many words that you’d be in idiot not to have an outline. That was back in the late 1970’s. In an interview almost 30 years later about his Odd Thomas books, he says he never outlines. I suspect he’s so familiar with the form outlines are redundant for him now.

So lists can be good. But lists can also hinder us if we’re not careful.

For example, James Maxey, a great author, likes characters with dark secrets. He states: “One of my tricks for making my characters interesting is that the primary characters are usually motivated by a dark secret. Vendevorex in Bitterwood desperately does not want Jandra to learn that he killed her parents. Rail Blade in Nobody Gets the Girl doesn’t want anyone to know that she killed her brother with her superpowers in a moment of anger when she was still young. The key revelation for me is that the thing that the world most wants to know about a person is often the thing that a person least wants anyone to know.”

Dark secrets are kind of cool, right?

But if we then said, okay, a great story must have a character with a dark secret, and we put that on our list, that’s when we start to work against ourselves. The “must” is the problem.

Not because we don’t have tests and guidelines. Tests assume objectives. And I, for one, certainly do have objectives for my books as a whole an in their various parts. For example, I sure as heck want to make sure my opening chapter starts with a strong draw. I sure as heck want an ending that leaves me feeling some poignancy, cosolation, and a telescoping of possibilities. I most definitely want characters that intrigue me. I have some definite musts.

But any one of the techniques or elements we might list (dark secrets, 3 acts, 7 acts, the players in Campbell’s “Hero’s Journey,” characters with an internal problem, etc. and ad infinitum) are nothing more than options that might or might not serve any given objective. They’re not necessary (of course, monkeys may be necessary). And I don’t mean that in an anomaly way.

I’m not suggesting it’s counterproductive to say, well, I love characters [fill in the blank] or plots that [fill in the blank] and I want one in this novel. I’m saying if we begin to think that all (or most) good novels must have these elements, then I think we’ll end up limiting ourselves.

So when you find something that works, when you hear about a technique, or some writerly rule, put it on your list of option prompts. Not on your list of must haves. And then ask this creative question, which I got from another great author, Luc Reid: “Would I be more excited about this book if I…”

Another version might be: “Would I care about and believe in this story/character/scene/etc. more if I…”

Would I care about and believe in this story more if had a character with this [insert option]? Would I care more if this plot line had [insert option]? Would I believe the story more if there were monkeys hiding in the attic?

If the answer is yes, then add it. If the answer is no or maybe, then put it aside. That option can go back on the shelf for another time.

Share

Similar Posts

  • LTUE 2016 presentation materials

    I promised you I’d post my materials. Here they are.

    Succeeding as a Storyteller 2016-02-13 HANDOUT

    Vivid and Clear 2016-02-11

    What Comes Next 2016-02-12 PRINT

    Also, at the end of my and LL Muir’s presentation of Succeeding as a Writer, I offered some of my books, the ones I authored, for free in the back. I would like to ask whoever accidentally got caught up in the mad rush (it was like Black Friday) and took my copy of Cheree Alsop’s Daybreak: Girl from the Stars Book 1 to please mail it to me. It looks like this:

    Daybreak-Amazon-Kindle-196x300

    It is dedicated to “Mrs. Brown’s Class” and was a present for her. You may mail it to John D. Brown, PO Box 157, Laketown, UT 84038.

    Share
  • Some lessons from Tom Clancy’s first novel

    tom-clancy-the-hunt-for-red-octoberTom Clancy is one of the biggest authors of our time. How did he break in? It’s an interesting story that Deborah Grosvenor, the editor who acquired The Hunt for Red October (Clancy’s first book), tells here.

    And this early interview provides more insights.

    So what conclusions can you draw from this? Here’s what I picked up.

    1. Writing a good book is one thing. That book finding success is quite another.

    2. Endorsements from the right people make a huge difference. More here in my blog Is Product Popularity Random?

    3. Know what you write. And if you don’t know it, do the research. And then invent what you have to.

    4. It’s not always a bad thing to start with a small press, especially if they’re going to put as much $$ into marketing and PR as this one did.

    5. To finish your novel, you’re going to have to set aside time and get it done.

    6. Finally, follow the zing. Clancy loved this stuff. Notice how his book was fed by the stories he heard and read.

    Share
  • |

    Do you want to meet authors and learn how to develop and write stories?

    Then you want to be in Provo, Utah this Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, February 11-13th, and attend Life, The Universe & Everything, the annual science fiction and fantasy writing conference. (I think students get in free.)

    If you live within a reasonable driving distance (I’m 2.5 hours away and consider that reasonable), then you should do everything you can to get down there. It’s going to be a blast. It and LDStorymakers are THE best conferences for writing that I know of in Utah, Nevada, Idaho, Wyoming, Colorado, and Arizona. And if you’re into SFF, then it’s the one. I mean, just check out the list of guests.

    I’ll be on the Role of Magic in Your Story and Distributing Your Novel panels. Look at the schedule and check out the guests who will be on those panels with me. Yeah. Awesome.

    And then I’ll be presenting Vivid and Clear by myself and Succeeding as a Writer with L.L. Muir, which is going to reveal some things that will surprise a lot of people.

    BTW, L.L. Muir is the best kept secret success story in Utah at the moment. She’s selling thousands of books, pleasing thousands of readers, and making, well, you’ll have to come to that presentation find out how much money she’s making. And what the secrets to her success are.

    Share
  • Generating Story 8: Creative Q&A part 2

    I realized I needed to blather a bit more on this topic to warn you against something before I bring the other authors on.

    You’re going to be tempted.  You’re going to be tempted to seek for some Holy Grail list of magic development questions.  Some of you are going to be tempted to compile some big old honking list of “the questions that will produce a killer story every time and all I have to do is ask them.”

    That list doesn’t exist. If you seek for it, you’re going to waste a lot of time and end up having to fight killer rabbits and fetch shrubberies for weird knights.

    Don’t fall for it.

    But, John, didn’t you say there were core questions?

    I did.  You need answers for those.  But you need to also understand that a writer will ask a great number of development questions when writing a specific novel, some of which he might only ask once.

    Last year I was out on the forum at CodexWriters.com and one writer asked the rest of us how we approached developing our stories.  He was looking for some kind of development map, e.g. I have this piece of the story, now I need to develop the rest–how does one go about that? 

    That discussion led directly to this series on getting and developing story ideas. My thoughts then were that you need to define and understand the basic elements of story.  Knowing the key story principles behind each element leads us to a handful of core development objectives and questions.  But–

    I DO NOT think there’s a comprehensive must-do list. 

    Why?

    Because it’s been my experience that no two stories are exactly the same, and so no two stories require the exact same questions. And even if stories are similar, questions and techniques don’t always produce the same results each time. One question or technique might prove fruitful one time, but it might be unfruitful the next, or even unnecessary.  So the point of this is NOT to get a checklist of a hundred questions that will lead you to generate the whole story in your mind before you write.

    The goal is to develop the six parts. Use the questions you need to develop those parts.

    Look at the many setting and character profile question lists that float around. As I’ve used those, I always run out of steam because while some of those questions are interesting and helpful, quite a few of them just don’t apply to the project at hand. They bore me. Maybe I felt a spark of life with one question, but instead of following it as the way into the story, the whole checklist format suggests I need to move on to the next one and fill in the blanks.

    But my goal isn’t to fill in blanks. My goal is to make the story come alive in my mind, to make the character come alive, to develop someone sympathetic, deserving, and interesting (if he’s the hero).

    So while I think looking for productive questions is important, and I DO think there are some core questions that need to be answered every time, I think a person will be more productive if they step back and identify the key things they want in the story, the scene, the particular character.  This means we’ll have some standard questions and techniques based on how stories work, but it also means we’ll learn how to do the creative Q&A process on the fly, following the zing for the current project, coming up with questions that we could never predict we’d use. 

    And we’ll use the objectives for the six core parts as the guide then build upon them.

    For example, when finishing up my last draft of Curse of a Dark God, I wrote the opening to a big battle chapter. I know that for things to be clear to the reader, I need to set the stage, have a hook, give the what, why, where, etc. I need to transport them as best I can. Those are my objectives. The questions, while not formally stated, flowed from them–what are some options for a good hook, how do I want to set the scene, etc.

    These are fairly standard objectives/questions. They’re story fundamentals. And there weren’t a lot of them. You can get overwhelmed with too many niggling objectives and criteria. I’ve found it’s best to focus on KEY things. To ask myself–what are the Pareto factors, the handful of things that really have the biggest effect in story with character, plot, scene? Once I identify those factors I can easily turn them into questions.

    So I had those handful of objectives. But I had some others that were very specific to that scene that I probably won’t use in any other scene ever.  And I couldn’t have really even known about them until I got to the point where I was writing the scene.

    For example, one was how to introduce the Dogman of Toth and his pack of maulers in a way that makes the reader say “ho-lee crap those guys are screwed!” Another one was how to introduce the kitemen in a cool way. Another was based on a feeling I was getting from my Spidey-sense that the scene I was writing was going to undercut a later one if I made the hero’s objective to kill one certain character. So I had to ask, what is the right progression of these scenes? Who should the hero attack here so it feels right, like a progression?  Another objective was to make this whole battle scene awesome, thrilling. That’s certainly something I’ll want to do with other battle scenes. But not on all scenes.

    With the very next scene I was asking–how can I make this scene tender and heart-breaking? These ad hoc questions about the Dogman and kitemen and the story progression are all great questions flowing from objectives, but they were for that one particular scene.

    So I think there are some core objectives or principles of how character, setting, problem, plot, and text work. These are based on key story factors. I listed those out in the last post and in my series on suspense. You can make a “standard” list of objectives and questions out of these. For example, one of those key objectives is for the reader to care about the hero. Another is to find him interesting. I can indeed translate these core objectives into some standard POWER QUESTIONS that might be put on a list.  Along with some core questions, there are favorite techniques (tools) we each use to help us work up what we need and get into a story, scene, character, problem, etc.

    But I think a lot of writing is using the creative Q&A on the fly because it’s just impossible to think up all the objectives and questions you’ll encounter before you get into it. 

    Have I said that about twenty times now in this post?

    Let me suggest you not try to develop everything up front before you begin to draft.  Some development questions occur when you’re sketching or outlining. Others when you’re in details of draft mode. It’s a mistake to try to get it all up front in some list.

    The key, I think, is to have our handful of CORE development objectives/questions and ALSO expect to use the QA process along the way. This allows us to move forward in the creation without needing to develop everything up front, which is impossible (no, it really is impossible), and then step back and formulate questions when the need arises, based on our objectives of the moment, and use any number of methods to generate the answers until we have something that rocks.

    But John, how do you know when you’re ready to move forward?

    For me I need to have generated the story concept–the basics of the character, setting, and problem.  When I have that, I’m usually beginning to “see” things, although certainly not everything.  Often I’ve envisioned a couple of moments or scenes.  Maybe some dialogue, etc.  When I get to this point, I’m able to write a Story Setup statement.  And then I generate a sketch of the plot with a working outline.  I DON’T have all the details, but the story’s alive enough in my mind to proceed. 

    Sometimes I begin to draft what I sketched and find out it doesn’t work.  And sometimes I have to draft to get my story concept. Eloise McGraw (I love her book The Moorchild) usually found she had to draft seven chapters before she really knew what the story was about. That’s fine. The key isn’t to use a certain set of tools in a specific sequence. The key is to get to the point where you understand the story you’re telling. If I can do that with a bit of sketching and a little drafting, great.  If I need to do a bit more exploratory drafting to have the story come to life in my mind, that’s fine too.  The key is to know what I need to know about the story and work until I know it. This is writing that’s based on objectives, on principles, not on procedures.

    So there ARE core questions you’ll need to answer for every story.  But it’s also true that you will be hunting mythical rabbits if you look for a secret magic question procedure that lists all the questions you need to ask, EVAR!  Having said that, I’ll now let these other authors finally get a few words in edgewise.

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

    Share
  • |

    Brain Nazis and Feeling Good by David D. Burns, M.D.

    Have You Got a Brain Nazi?

    If you’re conscious, you’re monitoring your environment. You have to. It’s how you survive. This is not something you can turn off. It’s just one of those systems that runs automatically, like your liver. You’re always appraising the situation.

    And as soon as you encounter something that’s likely to be of importance to you or yours, your monitor kicks off a physical response to prepare you to deal with or take advantage of it.

    The problem is that sometimes a Nazi propagandist worms his way into the monitoring station. And like any good Nazi, he distorts reality.

    Sometimes those distortions lead to burning resentment, sometimes to unwarranted shame or anxiety, sometimes to eating disorders, sometimes to grave depression. When I heard of the tragic suicide that occurred in our community a few months ago, my heart went out in sympathy to the girl, her family, and friends.  I’m not a doctor. I don’t know the situation. But I’m positive she was dealing with one of these villains.

    I wished I’d been able to share something that’s been a literal life saver to me. Now, it might not have changed anything. But hopefully it can change things in the future for you and others you know who may have to deal with a Nazi in the brain.

    And you will have to deal with a brain Nazi at some time.

    This is not something that affects a miniscule portion of the population. In any given year you can expect more than 15% of a population to experience some form of this [1]. That’s roughly 238 of the estimated 1,592 people 18 years and older in the little county where I live [2]. Rates for teens are similar [3]. Besides, you don’t have to have a full-blown case of a depression for distortions to affect you. How many of us haven’t made faulty comparisons with others? “Oh, she’s so thin and has such great hair; I’m so dumpy.” “Oh, he’s doing so well, and I’m not. I’ll never be a success.”

    The question is not whether you or someone important to you will have to deal with it. The question is how prepared you’ll be when you do. Everyone deals with distortions now and again.  Which means everyone can find a little more enjoyment in life by showing their brain Nazis the door.

    So how does it all work? How do you show the villain out?

    I’m going to summarize it below, but I’ll tell you right now that the book that saved my life was Feeling Good by David D. Burns, MD. This isn’t positive mental attitude. It’s not neuro-linguistic programming. It’s not the mumbo jumbo of Freud and Jung. This is practical and proven. It is the most prescribed intervention for dealing with these issues in the current medical community. It’s prescribed because it works.

    Your Brilliant Appraisal-Emotion System

    To understand this, you have to understand how emotions work. As I said before, you’re always monitoring your situation. You hear a buzz and see a rattlesnake on the path two feet away. Your monitor immediately responds. Alarm, adrenaline, increased blood flow–all of that to get you ready to deal with the situation. Your monitor writes “alarm” on your face to communicate it to those around you–to warn and ask for help. This happens in less than a blink of an eye.

    But this doesn’t just happen with danger. It happens when we encounter unfamiliar things. When we encounter positive things. You see a great friend who makes you laugh all the time. Boom, your monitor responds. You smile. Feel. Focus. You do so because you not only want to avoid dangers, you also want to seek out the things that make you happy.

    Our emotions prepare us to fight, flee, seek, and pitch woo. Our little monitoring and physical response system is brilliant.

    But there’s more. We don’t rely on just the automatic subconscious monitoring. We also have a cognitive (conscious thinking) part. Let’s go back to the rattlesnake. You walk out into the garden, step on a slither, and immediately go into alarm mode. Then you look, consciously see the slithery thing is not a snake, but the garden hose. You relax. Laugh.

    The quick subconscious appraisals keep us alive, because with snakes and other things, if you’re slow, you’re dead. We don’t have time for thought. If you touch a hot stove, you want an immediate reflex. You don’t want to ponder it for a second or two. On the other hand, the cognitive appraisals help us further appraise a situation. They bring more of our resources to bear on the situation.

    How Does the Nazi Get In?

    So there are three parts of the appraisal-emotion system: the subconscious appraisal of the situation, the physical response, and the cognitive appraisal. Each of the three parts affects the other two. And when things are running smoothly, we don’t have problems. But sometimes we get a distortion mucking up the works. We make a faulty appraisal of the situation. And therefore have a faulty physical response.

    For example, you’re a mother. You’ve had a hard day. The kids make a huge mess with flour in the kitchen. You yell, freak out. When they’re cowering in their rooms and you’re cleaning up the flour, you think, “There I go again. I’m a total failure. I can’t stand it! I never do anything right! I’m a terrible mother.” These thoughts make you even sadder.

    And that’s the propaganda. That’s your brain Nazi with his all-or-nothing thinking, telling you that you either perform perfectly or you’re a failure.

    But is that true? No, it’s not. You might be a B+ mother, filling the lives of your kids with all sorts of goodness. You might have just had a great time reading with the kids not thirty minutes before. But the brain Nazi tells you to forget that. “Vatch dis film,” he says, “und see de horrors of vut you are!”    

    And the all-or-nothing thinking gambit is just one of ten common weapons he uses. Furthermore, this happens so quick that we often don’t notice it. In fact, we’ve often repeated some of these distortions so often than they’ve become almost automatic.

    Mr. Nazi, Meet Mr. Bazooka

    The good news is that you can pull the lid off the lies. You can open the door, spot the brain Nazi that slipped in, and take him out. You can do this because one of the three parts of the system is our cognitive appraisal. This means you can consciously stop the movie, pin the distortion on the wall, and uncover the truth. Once you do that, it’s like the rattlesnake scenario above—oh, it’s a hose, we realize, not a snake, and the appropriate emotions immediately follow.

    But you need to know how to stop the movie. You need to know how to spot the lies. David D. Burns, MD tells you exactly how to do this in his book Feeling Good. (By the way, DON’T get this book confused with his Feeling Good Handbook–you DON’T want the handbook; you want Feeling Good, the book.)  In the book, Burns talks about the theory, the results, and then gets right down to the practical techniques used to blow the brain Nazi to kingdom come.

    A few years ago I hit a bad patch with a brain Nazi that had taken up residence. A very bad patch. He’d been there for quite some time. This book and a good counselor saved me. I thank the Lord for that. By the time I went to see a medical doctor to assess whether chemical issues might be playing a role, I was stable. I wasn’t out of the woods yet, but I had opened the lid and found the villain at the controls. I used the techniques Burns gave me, and I’m happy to say that while the brain Nazi still comes round every once in a while, I can spot him. And I can take that sucker out.

    Go to the library and check out the book and take the assessment test. If you, or someone you know, scores in the mild range, maybe you’ve just experienced a very sad event. But maybe you’ve also got a villain in residence. Get the book. Read it. Be happy. Nobody needs to live with a Nazi at the controls.

    For Authors

    By the way, fiction authors should pay special attention to this stuff. Not because we’re more susceptible to brain Nazis than others, although we do have to deal with our fair share as we develop and share our stories. No, we should because the emotion process is exactly what we’re trying to tap into. Knowing the principles can be very useful indeed. Let me recommend you read the books on emotion listed on the Learning With Pros page.

    Sources

    1. 1. http://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/publications/the-numbers-count-mental-disorders-in-america/index.shtml
    2. 2. http://quickfacts.census.gov/qfd/states/49/49033.html (find your state and county and see how many folks are likely dealing with a brain Nazi in your area)
    3. 3. http://www.oas.samhsa.gov/2k5/youthDepression/youthDepression.htm
    Share
  • Runts, widows, and orphans

    A typesetting mystery solved–Runts!

    OrphanRuntWindow

    And now for something for your typesetting hearts.

    You know what orphans are–A short line appearing at the bottom of a page. Sometimes the first line of paragraph appearing at the bottom of a page.

    You know what widows are–A short, paragraph-ending line appearing at the top of a page.

    But what’s the last word or part of a word of a paragraph stranded by itself on a line?

    I went to the store, looking for
    Paul.

    I could never find an answer. Some called it an orphan as well.

    But David Blatner revealed the name in the comments of his post What Are Your Favorite Word and Character Space Settings for H&Js?

    He actually coined the term years ago when he couldn’t find a name, and I love what he came up with and am going to use it forever.

    He calls them “runts.”

    Ha!

    Hyphen Control

    BTW, those settings he mentions in that article are awesome. Drastically reduced weird hyphens, which reduced time formatting.

    What do the big boys control for?

    Furthermore, I noticed something in the big time author Stuart Woods volume I happen to be reading. And then I checked it against a James Patterson and a Lee Child.

    1) They don’t care about most runts. As Blatner said, there’s a runt zone, but the zone where they control for runts appears to be less than 5 characters if that includes the end punctuation.

    For example, I just opened a random page of the Woods book and see the following runts:

    a) results.”

    b) entry.”

    I flipped to another page and saw:

    a) said.

    b) trunk.

    c) them.

    And the thing is that I DIDN’T notice them in the least while I was reading. Only when I started looking for them.

    Of course, there were no runts that were smaller than those. Nothing like “tie.” or “do.” or “for.”

    2) They don’t control for orphans either.

    3) They DO control for widows. However, when you’re not controlling for orphans and most runts, controlling for widows is easy. And sometimes the control is just to increase the tracking just a tiny bit to make it span the whole line.

    I spent a number of hours on Saturday formatting my book only to find when I finished that I had set the leading at 18pt instead of 16pt. That meant I had to reformat the whole bleeping thing.

    But I adopted the Big Boy rule, allowing all runts that end at or beyond the first line indent of the paragraph. I ignored orphans. And I controlled for widows. And it took me a fraction of the time and still looks great.

    Here’s to runts and orphans!

    Share