Monday, November 9, 2009
Planning the tense
Day two of "alternative plotting" is going well. Day one involved a discrete diagram ... of marble if you will ... of the various objects, locations, and the like that our characters have in common. Akin to "walking the stage", I flushed out where these people might go, and the like. In particular I developed a reasonable floor plan for the house, identified exactly what is in the marble shed and any furniture therein, as well as some basic dimensions. I don't have a lot of faith in the actual proportions - but at least I have the value and identity of things in relation to one another.
I've also been thinking about the lake. It's probably just a really big pond. The scope in my head of the property doesn't allow for a lake ... but a pond ... that would work.
Lots and lots of details that still need to be flushed out ... but I am seeing Marcy and Jane clearer than I have been, I see why they *really* got together, where Emily fits in, where Dillon fits in, and even where Jane and Emily's father fit in. I can also see that, with a great deal more research, this could easily develop into a "feature-length" mini-epic. So I'm glad there is room to grow. The question is, am I up to the task of making it all believable?
Speaking of which, I've been thinking about dialogue. I've generally stayed away from dialogue for a few reasons, not the least of which is that it can easily force pages to appear. It is easy to create a stammer, a pointless discourse or an opportunity to for a character to ramble on ... and really, I was thinking it was kind of dishonest ... which is just the kind of beginner move I would expect of myself. I've never done this before. Why, oh why, am I editing the meta-game before I even get to the actual typing?!
Today I mapped out the relationships between Jane and Marcy in a way that should help develop both characters in a much more intentional fashion. In addition, the method allows for scalability, allowing me to focus on grinding out words instead of simply coming up with content on the fly. I continue to enjoy and appreciate extemporaneous fiction ... but I am simply not at the point where I feel I know these characters enough to identify where they're going at the same rate at which they're walking. In my case and with my current strengths, I need to know where they are going before they do ... so I can focus more on how to present the perspective.
I continue to want to go back and edit word choice, sentence structure, and am regularly hitting myself over my own head because of the inconsistency of tense ... most of my sentences are not consistent. In addition, I have not conveyed a clear tense at any given point. Present, past, and sometimes future, are all covered ... without transition! The lack of controlled tense selection and migration is something to address at a later time, to be sure.
The best reason, to my mind, for developing more of the meta-details before putting "pen to paper" is that I can finally answer the question that the initial phrase implied. I stated "It all began with the house." I have yet to tell you what "It" is.
Well now I know.
I do hope you enjoy learning about it.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
The Hidden Library
Narrative on this post (007)
It has been said that the easiest way to keep going when writing a literary work is to kill someone. Especially if it's fiction, a main character, is plot-appropriate, and a complete surprise. It is used in situation comedies rarely but regularly, almost like clock-work in daytime drama, and has the potential to either wreck or powerfully enhance a story - if used properly. I used a death earlier in this work to add relevant depth to Jane (if you ignore the fact that I hadn't established any kind of relevance for Emily and implied a familiarity with Emily that wasn't yet warranted) as well as offering a reason why they might be reasonable estranged. Death is a powerful and simple way to break out a new plot path, brutally sever ties between friends or quickly heal wounds between enemies, or establish what the exact paradigm of the people involved in the death. How we react to death is a huge part of what makes us human and thus it is simple capital that is available to all writers. The catch is that including it should only be done after establishing value to the person dying (or having the plot such that the value is implied as present and established some time later). Because it is in your work, it will be assumed to have value and thus not supplying it is a waste.
In the same way, romance of any kind can be a powerful source of both inspiration and plot development. It might be the standard romance of boy meets girl (and all its variants), an innocent notion of how the world works (especially when the plot reveals that, in the background, the character's notion of right, wrong, or balance is horribly awry), or the inclusion of a mysterious object. Yesterday's entry included the mystery - but without further development, it's more interesting because it's weird than because it either fits into the story or because it is apparently relevant. Many plot points seem to either be included for no particular reason or because they were useful literary devices.
In the same way, the relationship between Dillon and Marcy was created unintentionally and originated chiefly out of a need to force the story forward. I needed to add some depth to Marcy and, from a synchronicity stand point it needed to be related to the college. Dennington campus is where Emily found Jane and so it would be where Dillon found Marcy. I liked adding to the development of their story the fact that Dillon's perspective was a bit more masculine and analytical - and I wanted him to be brilliant and stupid in a particular way. He is used to seeing his world with a particular perspective and because he stays in his head so often, it seems as if things happen around him. He is blind to a great deal of his surrounding but is unaware that he is blind ... because they do not always factor into his paradigm, so he doesn't see them. Dillon's perspective on Marcy is chiefly one of hormonal curiosity which he has chosen to define in an intellectual manner. In addition, Dillon’s perspective of Marcy is currently that she was first noticed and noted when he sees her in class. To counterpoint, Marcy saw him much earlier and made herself ... available to be noticed. She knows more about Dillon than Dillon is aware and the result is an interesting non-balanced relationship. I think this is realistic ... normally people don't notice one another at the same time. Sometimes that interest can be established before either of them has any kind of direct interaction and it thus becomes story fodder for that development. As I didn't feel either Dillon or Marcy were intending any kind of malevolence, I had to choose carefully the approach each made toward discovering more about one another. The phrasing was important - it had to feel as if Marcy were inquiring without judgment and Dillon's emotionally awkward advances had to be from a kind of innocence.
In addition, I didn't develop the relationship between Dillon and his old Japanese tutor. I meant to imply that she had a kind of crush on him and that he had done some of his own investigation into who she was and what kind of person she had chosen to become, but that the relationship had never developed. It also had to be facile enough that, when she almost runs him over, he can honestly say he has other plans and she can react without any kind of negative repercussion.
One last note - both of these were a bit more awkward to write than before. I am not running out of ideas or plot points - but I keep feeling like the story is about to get weird and I'm fighting to keep it sane and non-mystical. I don't think any of the characters should have weird powers, crazy technology, or unusual perceptions ... and so I won't let the overtly weird take over the story. But with that kind of limitation, it helps to have another tool. And it is this tool I am going to address. Up to this point I've done no planning. I put "pen to paper" and crafted whatever popped into my head. Sometimes it was poignant, sometimes messy, but mostly it was not fluid.
The second week of NaNoWriMo for me will be one involving planning. I'll include some of my intended plot points in these posts, but I intend to have thought more about what I want to have happened by the middle or end of the second third of the book for the characters. I'm not focusing on a whole book flow ... more an evaluation of what kind of characters they truly are, what kinds of events need to occur to each as individuals and as pairs or groups, and what kind of plot motion needs to be made.
If you've been paying attention, I have just fewer than 5,000 words at this point in seven days ... so nowhere near the ideal of at least 1,667 per day.
The idea is you can see the word-count difference between arbitrary focus-less creativity and intentional guided creativity.
I believe the second will win.
Narrative on this post (007)
It has been said that the easiest way to keep going when writing a literary work is to kill someone. Especially if it's fiction, a main character, is plot-appropriate, and a complete surprise. It is used in situation comedies rarely but regularly, almost like clock-work in daytime drama, and has the potential to either wreck or powerfully enhance a story - if used properly. I used a death earlier in this work to add relevant depth to Jane (if you ignore the fact that I hadn't established any kind of relevance for Emily and implied a familiarity with Emily that wasn't yet warranted) as well as offering a reason why they might be reasonable estranged. Death is a powerful and simple way to break out a new plot path, brutally sever ties between friends or quickly heal wounds between enemies, or establish what the exact paradigm of the people involved in the death. How we react to death is a huge part of what makes us human and thus it is simple capital that is available to all writers. The catch is that including it should only be done after establishing value to the person dying (or having the plot such that the value is implied as present and established some time later). Because it is in your work, it will be assumed to have value and thus not supplying it is a waste.
In the same way, romance of any kind can be a powerful source of both inspiration and plot development. It might be the standard romance of boy meets girl (and all its variants), an innocent notion of how the world works (especially when the plot reveals that, in the background, the character's notion of right, wrong, or balance is horribly awry), or the inclusion of a mysterious object. Yesterday's entry included the mystery - but without further development, it's more interesting because it's weird than because it either fits into the story or because it is apparently relevant. Many plot points seem to either be included for no particular reason or because they were useful literary devices.
In the same way, the relationship between Dillon and Marcy was created unintentionally and originated chiefly out of a need to force the story forward. I needed to add some depth to Marcy and, from a synchronicity stand point it needed to be related to the college. Dennington campus is where Emily found Jane and so it would be where Dillon found Marcy. I liked adding to the development of their story the fact that Dillon's perspective was a bit more masculine and analytical - and I wanted him to be brilliant and stupid in a particular way. He is used to seeing his world with a particular perspective and because he stays in his head so often, it seems as if things happen around him. He is blind to a great deal of his surrounding but is unaware that he is blind ... because they do not always factor into his paradigm, so he doesn't see them. Dillon's perspective on Marcy is chiefly one of hormonal curiosity which he has chosen to define in an intellectual manner. In addition, Dillon’s perspective of Marcy is currently that she was first noticed and noted when he sees her in class. To counterpoint, Marcy saw him much earlier and made herself ... available to be noticed. She knows more about Dillon than Dillon is aware and the result is an interesting non-balanced relationship. I think this is realistic ... normally people don't notice one another at the same time. Sometimes that interest can be established before either of them has any kind of direct interaction and it thus becomes story fodder for that development. As I didn't feel either Dillon or Marcy were intending any kind of malevolence, I had to choose carefully the approach each made toward discovering more about one another. The phrasing was important - it had to feel as if Marcy were inquiring without judgment and Dillon's emotionally awkward advances had to be from a kind of innocence.
In addition, I didn't develop the relationship between Dillon and his old Japanese tutor. I meant to imply that she had a kind of crush on him and that he had done some of his own investigation into who she was and what kind of person she had chosen to become, but that the relationship had never developed. It also had to be facile enough that, when she almost runs him over, he can honestly say he has other plans and she can react without any kind of negative repercussion.
One last note - both of these were a bit more awkward to write than before. I am not running out of ideas or plot points - but I keep feeling like the story is about to get weird and I'm fighting to keep it sane and non-mystical. I don't think any of the characters should have weird powers, crazy technology, or unusual perceptions ... and so I won't let the overtly weird take over the story. But with that kind of limitation, it helps to have another tool. And it is this tool I am going to address. Up to this point I've done no planning. I put "pen to paper" and crafted whatever popped into my head. Sometimes it was poignant, sometimes messy, but mostly it was not fluid.
The second week of NaNoWriMo for me will be one involving planning. I'll include some of my intended plot points in these posts, but I intend to have thought more about what I want to have happened by the middle or end of the second third of the book for the characters. I'm not focusing on a whole book flow ... more an evaluation of what kind of characters they truly are, what kinds of events need to occur to each as individuals and as pairs or groups, and what kind of plot motion needs to be made.
If you've been paying attention, I have just fewer than 5,000 words at this point in seven days ... so nowhere near the ideal of at least 1,667 per day.
The idea is you can see the word-count difference between arbitrary focus-less creativity and intentional guided creativity.
I believe the second will win.
Narrative on this post (007)
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Weather matters
Narrative on this post (005)
I started out realizing that I needed some depth more depth for Jane ... and her interaction at this point with Marcy was basically non-existent. What kind of person would have the preference she's conveyed? Why? Is it the result of a tragedy, a powerful and positive experience, or something just plain weird? I went with tragedy; as a literary device, tragedy is powerful and evocative in that it draws the reader in (as long it's not arbitrary AND isn't over the top). As someone once said, a little bit goes a long way. On a similar note, several comedians have noted that a small amount of bad things is fascinating and interesting, too much and you get smack-dab into a comedy routine. As a writer, I may want a comedy routine, but it should be either something I intend or something that is the natural result of the interaction of the characters with one another, their environment, or themselves. Everything else is as waste of time and space.
Again, if you've included this - note this as a lesson learned and keep writing. The goal here is to finish, not to write everything perfectly the first time. Mastering writing doesn't come overnight or a month, but as the result of a kind of perpetual groping in the dark. Much of the learning comes either by accident or while you weren't paying attention. As an example: do you remember when you learned to read? Do you remember clearly what it was like before you learned to read? Certainly, I don't; and this is the type of experience to which I am referring - transitions of this nature, proper ones that are desirable and deep, take time to unfurl.
As for Marcy, she has a new appreciation (or at least interest) in Jane because of the sigil / archway. We don't know if she's seen it before and her "secret" dislike of the lake is tied to the archway, if it's the first time she's seen it, or if she's already interact with it in some way. In addition, as the author, it isn't necessarily important that you give any deeper purpose to an object than have it simply be ... but it is a waste of words and space. Having a basic thrust for the root story (whether having the end in mind or being true to the characters and thus having certain plot points available for driving the story) will have a helpful impact in your efforts to direct the characters.
One thing that may be of concern to you is that the characters are not "doing what you want them to do." In any instance where a person tries to convey a realistic person, there will always come a point where the person has the potential to do something you weren't expecting. It might be the result of the person making a decision that makes sense for that person, but which didn't occur to you prior to writing that part of the story. It might be the result of what is actually in emotional/mental/physical view of the person at the time of the decision. Or it simply might be the manner in which some plot point needs to be resolved and the implementation of the resolution draws the story in a different direction. Be flexible. In real sense, you're creating a world for the people in your story - and you will be bringing your understand of cause and effect into your creation. The more indeterminate and free-spirited (or at least distinct from you) your characters are painted/described, the more likely the "people" will actually become people. And achieving believable people is critical to making a story desirable to experience for the audience. In addition, making the story more desirable to read may also make it easier for you to write as well - it really depends upon who you are and what you're making.
Some other interesting points about the story - the time line is a little muddled. This is the result of lack of planning on my part. How old are Emily and Jane? Is there a major age difference or maturity difference between Jane and Marcy? Are Marcy and Jane chronologically close? How about the teacher mentioned in passing - is it important how old they are? How about how everything unfurled? We know, from the first page, that they moved in about five years ago; but, we also know that the archway chapter (most recent) happened when Jane was sophomore. Did they move in at the same time, and so this is three years ago? We know that they have been roommates for five years - does that mean that they've been there far longer? How about Jane's scholastic career - did it start near the time that Jane became a renter? Lots of time-line questions are not yet addressed - and as the author, it is important that you think these kinds of things through and resolve them, either by planning before you write or doing so within the story. It is not hard to edit a story so that the existing time-frames "fit" the whole story, but usually the problem becomes that the story is far less believable.
As a useful tool: one way to write without planning everything out before-hand is to act as a detective. If you start out knowing that something happened to people "you've never met yet" and add information as your imagination and intuition drag you along, you'll likely stumble across a set of events that might actually tell a tale. It might even be linear and plausible. Regardless, it will likely be connected in a meaningful way ... and how meaningful will often determine how likeable and readable your story is.
One more note before we go back to the events that are unfolding ... unlike most of the story, this last chapter had weather. Weather is a powerful (and easily over-used) element that can enhance and convey depth without bashing it over the reader's head. I mention a gentle rain. I actually intended it to imply a resolution had happened between Jane and Emily. It might also be indicative of some sort of loss on the part of Marcy. It could thirdly indicate the end of an "act", and so the next few chapters might be set on a different stage. What it means to you and your characters should not be arbitrary. Don't waste or abuse weather.
Narrative on this post (005)
I started out realizing that I needed some depth more depth for Jane ... and her interaction at this point with Marcy was basically non-existent. What kind of person would have the preference she's conveyed? Why? Is it the result of a tragedy, a powerful and positive experience, or something just plain weird? I went with tragedy; as a literary device, tragedy is powerful and evocative in that it draws the reader in (as long it's not arbitrary AND isn't over the top). As someone once said, a little bit goes a long way. On a similar note, several comedians have noted that a small amount of bad things is fascinating and interesting, too much and you get smack-dab into a comedy routine. As a writer, I may want a comedy routine, but it should be either something I intend or something that is the natural result of the interaction of the characters with one another, their environment, or themselves. Everything else is as waste of time and space.
Again, if you've included this - note this as a lesson learned and keep writing. The goal here is to finish, not to write everything perfectly the first time. Mastering writing doesn't come overnight or a month, but as the result of a kind of perpetual groping in the dark. Much of the learning comes either by accident or while you weren't paying attention. As an example: do you remember when you learned to read? Do you remember clearly what it was like before you learned to read? Certainly, I don't; and this is the type of experience to which I am referring - transitions of this nature, proper ones that are desirable and deep, take time to unfurl.
As for Marcy, she has a new appreciation (or at least interest) in Jane because of the sigil / archway. We don't know if she's seen it before and her "secret" dislike of the lake is tied to the archway, if it's the first time she's seen it, or if she's already interact with it in some way. In addition, as the author, it isn't necessarily important that you give any deeper purpose to an object than have it simply be ... but it is a waste of words and space. Having a basic thrust for the root story (whether having the end in mind or being true to the characters and thus having certain plot points available for driving the story) will have a helpful impact in your efforts to direct the characters.
One thing that may be of concern to you is that the characters are not "doing what you want them to do." In any instance where a person tries to convey a realistic person, there will always come a point where the person has the potential to do something you weren't expecting. It might be the result of the person making a decision that makes sense for that person, but which didn't occur to you prior to writing that part of the story. It might be the result of what is actually in emotional/mental/physical view of the person at the time of the decision. Or it simply might be the manner in which some plot point needs to be resolved and the implementation of the resolution draws the story in a different direction. Be flexible. In real sense, you're creating a world for the people in your story - and you will be bringing your understand of cause and effect into your creation. The more indeterminate and free-spirited (or at least distinct from you) your characters are painted/described, the more likely the "people" will actually become people. And achieving believable people is critical to making a story desirable to experience for the audience. In addition, making the story more desirable to read may also make it easier for you to write as well - it really depends upon who you are and what you're making.
Some other interesting points about the story - the time line is a little muddled. This is the result of lack of planning on my part. How old are Emily and Jane? Is there a major age difference or maturity difference between Jane and Marcy? Are Marcy and Jane chronologically close? How about the teacher mentioned in passing - is it important how old they are? How about how everything unfurled? We know, from the first page, that they moved in about five years ago; but, we also know that the archway chapter (most recent) happened when Jane was sophomore. Did they move in at the same time, and so this is three years ago? We know that they have been roommates for five years - does that mean that they've been there far longer? How about Jane's scholastic career - did it start near the time that Jane became a renter? Lots of time-line questions are not yet addressed - and as the author, it is important that you think these kinds of things through and resolve them, either by planning before you write or doing so within the story. It is not hard to edit a story so that the existing time-frames "fit" the whole story, but usually the problem becomes that the story is far less believable.
As a useful tool: one way to write without planning everything out before-hand is to act as a detective. If you start out knowing that something happened to people "you've never met yet" and add information as your imagination and intuition drag you along, you'll likely stumble across a set of events that might actually tell a tale. It might even be linear and plausible. Regardless, it will likely be connected in a meaningful way ... and how meaningful will often determine how likeable and readable your story is.
One more note before we go back to the events that are unfolding ... unlike most of the story, this last chapter had weather. Weather is a powerful (and easily over-used) element that can enhance and convey depth without bashing it over the reader's head. I mention a gentle rain. I actually intended it to imply a resolution had happened between Jane and Emily. It might also be indicative of some sort of loss on the part of Marcy. It could thirdly indicate the end of an "act", and so the next few chapters might be set on a different stage. What it means to you and your characters should not be arbitrary. Don't waste or abuse weather.
Narrative on this post (005)
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Edit Later
Narrative on this post (004)
This ever-expanding piece has a number of weaknesses. There is no real plot at this point, the characters feel rather two-dimensional, and much of the events that have drawn out emotional intensity have either been mentioned in passing or have occurred in the past ... which highlights the current problem with the whole piece - it is almost entirely a "told" piece and not enough of a "shown" piece. Part of this is conveyed in a completed lack of dialog and part of it deals with the fact that even some of the more powerful verbs are described indirectly. Simply put - characters are described as having done something instead of described as doing them.
In addition, although there is character development, it is done primarily in an accidental way. We know that both girls are students and just recently learned of the college - the purpose of introducing the college is clearly placed to explain why the two are in the house at the same time ... but why use a college? Sure, they are both students, but they don't necessarily need to be attending the same college. They certainly didn't need to be taking any of the same classes to have "met." Likewise, there seems to be an implicit conflict between the two girls, but that is not developed in the slightest, save for being mentioned in passing.
The house and the lake both appear to be "characters" in the story ... but to what end? Are the characters going to be so thinly drawn that the depth and breadth of our "human-interest" story will be conveyed over time through the house? Will the house and lake "talk", using the people as the medium through which their "secret" communiques get transferred? How about an element of intentionally engrossing aspects? At this point, I'm simply waiting for the other shoe to drop ... and I'm the one writing it!
One of the things you will find, as the author, is that you may be hyper-critical of the writing. When a less-personal eye views the material, they might agree with the various in which I find this story is lacking. They might find other things to disagree with or discern as weak points. Or, they may find the piece a true work of art. Regardless, it is important that you finish what you started. If you started weak, improve! If you started strong, keep it up! And if you seem to be meandering in some way that is effectually luke-warm in expression - use it to your advantage! Maybe the "actual" source of the monologue is a voice-over of one of the existing characters. Maybe everyone in the story has been dead for years and so these are thoughts and words from a journal discovered on some beach (perhaps near the lake?) Maybe this is a describe of real events that have happened, and so the problem is not in the lack of pacing or flow in the story - the problem is in the way it is presented. Regardless, don't use any of these weaknesses (or any others) as a reason to stop. If you must fix things, fix them after you've got a completed draft. This includes the addition of dialogue, onomatopoeia, details, or depth. It includes how many and what kinds of details you include. And it includes what you haven't included. Everything matters, and in a Nanowrimo challenge, the focus should be on whipping out as much information as possible. Edit later.
Narrative on this post (004)
This ever-expanding piece has a number of weaknesses. There is no real plot at this point, the characters feel rather two-dimensional, and much of the events that have drawn out emotional intensity have either been mentioned in passing or have occurred in the past ... which highlights the current problem with the whole piece - it is almost entirely a "told" piece and not enough of a "shown" piece. Part of this is conveyed in a completed lack of dialog and part of it deals with the fact that even some of the more powerful verbs are described indirectly. Simply put - characters are described as having done something instead of described as doing them.
In addition, although there is character development, it is done primarily in an accidental way. We know that both girls are students and just recently learned of the college - the purpose of introducing the college is clearly placed to explain why the two are in the house at the same time ... but why use a college? Sure, they are both students, but they don't necessarily need to be attending the same college. They certainly didn't need to be taking any of the same classes to have "met." Likewise, there seems to be an implicit conflict between the two girls, but that is not developed in the slightest, save for being mentioned in passing.
The house and the lake both appear to be "characters" in the story ... but to what end? Are the characters going to be so thinly drawn that the depth and breadth of our "human-interest" story will be conveyed over time through the house? Will the house and lake "talk", using the people as the medium through which their "secret" communiques get transferred? How about an element of intentionally engrossing aspects? At this point, I'm simply waiting for the other shoe to drop ... and I'm the one writing it!
One of the things you will find, as the author, is that you may be hyper-critical of the writing. When a less-personal eye views the material, they might agree with the various in which I find this story is lacking. They might find other things to disagree with or discern as weak points. Or, they may find the piece a true work of art. Regardless, it is important that you finish what you started. If you started weak, improve! If you started strong, keep it up! And if you seem to be meandering in some way that is effectually luke-warm in expression - use it to your advantage! Maybe the "actual" source of the monologue is a voice-over of one of the existing characters. Maybe everyone in the story has been dead for years and so these are thoughts and words from a journal discovered on some beach (perhaps near the lake?) Maybe this is a describe of real events that have happened, and so the problem is not in the lack of pacing or flow in the story - the problem is in the way it is presented. Regardless, don't use any of these weaknesses (or any others) as a reason to stop. If you must fix things, fix them after you've got a completed draft. This includes the addition of dialogue, onomatopoeia, details, or depth. It includes how many and what kinds of details you include. And it includes what you haven't included. Everything matters, and in a Nanowrimo challenge, the focus should be on whipping out as much information as possible. Edit later.
Narrative on this post (004)
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
More House
Narrative on this post (002)
The house needed more introduction. Did it have a dark aspect? Was there another house close by? I chose a lake because it made sense from the point of view of Marcy - her focus, at this time, is the sound and general feel of the house. A lake provides a relatively complex source of potential memories as well as being as a prime move in its own right. In addition, the lake is not natural ... so the aspect of it being man-made adds to the layering.
I also am using the lake for character development. There are only two ways to develop character of which I am aware - response and recollection. You might have a character that *appears* two-dimensional that eventually develops a great deal of depth ... not because they change who they are or their perspective, but because their real nature is revealed. This depth might be established via general dialogue, dialogue in response to the established present, or behavior that reflects a response to the new, or newly acknowledged, introduction of some new event. The depth might also be established via retrospect - remembering the past can often shed light on the current motivations for a character's actions.
In fact, one might establish characters as believable based simply on whether the motivations are realistic and whether the motivations might realistically be the driving force for someone to act in the way that the character is painted. If the motivations, in addition to being emotionally valid, are complex enough to resemble a real person, but simple enough to resemble a single view-point, a character may often be identifiable - enough that the reader develops a relationship with them. The danger for character development, at that point, is consistency. It is quite easy to develop a character over time comprised of obvious and arcane events and some reasonable dialogue. Throw in a real time, place, or reference, and the character will "come alive".
But the very things that can define a person well early in the story can often destroy the relevance or validity of that same person in later chapters. If you have a vegetarian who became a lover of animals and respecter of all life in response to growing up in Southern California suddenly fall in love with a game hunter, you'd better have a really good reason. Perhaps a death in the family, chemical inducement, or a con artist might all be reliable motivators ... or perhaps it simply isn't possible for the vegetarian to undergo such a drastic change. The real rule of thumb is to act like the vegetarian is real person; if we assign the name "Nikki" to the vegetarian and then, within a few chapters of introducing Nikki, she's suddenly fallen in love with "George", the game hunter, why? Did George grow up in the same town as Nikki and so she's always harbored some fundamental attraction? Is Nikki secretly a hater of animals and has been trying to get back at the ones that killed her parents? Is it that George believes he should give up animal hunting because of some newly developed affection for Nikki?
Or is it an arbitrary plot twist you've included?
Narrative on this post (002)
The house needed more introduction. Did it have a dark aspect? Was there another house close by? I chose a lake because it made sense from the point of view of Marcy - her focus, at this time, is the sound and general feel of the house. A lake provides a relatively complex source of potential memories as well as being as a prime move in its own right. In addition, the lake is not natural ... so the aspect of it being man-made adds to the layering.
I also am using the lake for character development. There are only two ways to develop character of which I am aware - response and recollection. You might have a character that *appears* two-dimensional that eventually develops a great deal of depth ... not because they change who they are or their perspective, but because their real nature is revealed. This depth might be established via general dialogue, dialogue in response to the established present, or behavior that reflects a response to the new, or newly acknowledged, introduction of some new event. The depth might also be established via retrospect - remembering the past can often shed light on the current motivations for a character's actions.
In fact, one might establish characters as believable based simply on whether the motivations are realistic and whether the motivations might realistically be the driving force for someone to act in the way that the character is painted. If the motivations, in addition to being emotionally valid, are complex enough to resemble a real person, but simple enough to resemble a single view-point, a character may often be identifiable - enough that the reader develops a relationship with them. The danger for character development, at that point, is consistency. It is quite easy to develop a character over time comprised of obvious and arcane events and some reasonable dialogue. Throw in a real time, place, or reference, and the character will "come alive".
But the very things that can define a person well early in the story can often destroy the relevance or validity of that same person in later chapters. If you have a vegetarian who became a lover of animals and respecter of all life in response to growing up in Southern California suddenly fall in love with a game hunter, you'd better have a really good reason. Perhaps a death in the family, chemical inducement, or a con artist might all be reliable motivators ... or perhaps it simply isn't possible for the vegetarian to undergo such a drastic change. The real rule of thumb is to act like the vegetarian is real person; if we assign the name "Nikki" to the vegetarian and then, within a few chapters of introducing Nikki, she's suddenly fallen in love with "George", the game hunter, why? Did George grow up in the same town as Nikki and so she's always harbored some fundamental attraction? Is Nikki secretly a hater of animals and has been trying to get back at the ones that killed her parents? Is it that George believes he should give up animal hunting because of some newly developed affection for Nikki?
Or is it an arbitrary plot twist you've included?
Narrative on this post (002)
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Starting from nothing
Narrative on this post (001)
This is my attempt to explain my own process - both as a means of explaining what steps I take as well as walking though my own metal process. In addition, as I am intending this to be my official effort towards Nanowrimo, I am not including these side-bars toward my word count.
I started out this novel intending to use the phrase "it was a dark and stormy night." I have tried starting most of my efforts of late with this phrase and that has been mostly in opposition to something I was taught in school - that this phrase was one of the very worst ways in which one might begin any kind of literary effort. I meant, and continue to mean, to either disprove them or expect that experience will prove them right. Regardless, in practice it simply means I won't eschew it's use. With regards the actual beginning, the phrase "It began with a house" popped in my mind and would not leave. I recognized it as not only a powerful beginning but also something I'd not touched on before. And once I accepted it as the beginning of this work, I realized it brought to mind other questions.
What sort of house is it? Is it dark and mysterious, foreboding and cantankerous, light and fluffy, or a sort of idealized unknown? Is the house the beginning of something dark and so the character and nature of it's components is a precursor to the rest? Are the two separate?
Does anyone live in the house, or is the house merely the center of a number of seemingly unrelated events? If the house is inhabited, has it been inhabited consistently or sporadically? Is it the case that the house has been only owned but never maintained? How about the grounds - do they indicate a level of repair (or disrepair) consistent with the initial thrust of the story?
Of technical concern: what is the point of view of the speaker? Is it someone reminiscing about their own past, an historian describing a particularly creepy chapter of a well-known neighborhood, a second-person rendition of selected events, a first-person narrative that offers more of monologue feel interspersed with interesting twists, or should the fairly-common third-person approach be selected, allowing the reader to experience the details as the author sees fit?
It should be noted that, although each of these were eventually answered (and perhaps will be answered different before we're done), none of them were actually asked while I was writing. I merely started with the phrase and walked where my fingers drew my attention. I believe I picked descriptors that frame the parts of a house I might notice, which is why they're all exterior, and I picked details that would indicate someone was walking onto the property chiefly because that is how I was first introduced to the house in my head - start from the road, notice a window, note the curve of the house, allow the eyes to move to the front-door, and realize the shade is being offered by a mighty, massive oak. And it went from there.
Narrative on this post (001)
This is my attempt to explain my own process - both as a means of explaining what steps I take as well as walking though my own metal process. In addition, as I am intending this to be my official effort towards Nanowrimo, I am not including these side-bars toward my word count.
I started out this novel intending to use the phrase "it was a dark and stormy night." I have tried starting most of my efforts of late with this phrase and that has been mostly in opposition to something I was taught in school - that this phrase was one of the very worst ways in which one might begin any kind of literary effort. I meant, and continue to mean, to either disprove them or expect that experience will prove them right. Regardless, in practice it simply means I won't eschew it's use. With regards the actual beginning, the phrase "It began with a house" popped in my mind and would not leave. I recognized it as not only a powerful beginning but also something I'd not touched on before. And once I accepted it as the beginning of this work, I realized it brought to mind other questions.
What sort of house is it? Is it dark and mysterious, foreboding and cantankerous, light and fluffy, or a sort of idealized unknown? Is the house the beginning of something dark and so the character and nature of it's components is a precursor to the rest? Are the two separate?
Does anyone live in the house, or is the house merely the center of a number of seemingly unrelated events? If the house is inhabited, has it been inhabited consistently or sporadically? Is it the case that the house has been only owned but never maintained? How about the grounds - do they indicate a level of repair (or disrepair) consistent with the initial thrust of the story?
Of technical concern: what is the point of view of the speaker? Is it someone reminiscing about their own past, an historian describing a particularly creepy chapter of a well-known neighborhood, a second-person rendition of selected events, a first-person narrative that offers more of monologue feel interspersed with interesting twists, or should the fairly-common third-person approach be selected, allowing the reader to experience the details as the author sees fit?
It should be noted that, although each of these were eventually answered (and perhaps will be answered different before we're done), none of them were actually asked while I was writing. I merely started with the phrase and walked where my fingers drew my attention. I believe I picked descriptors that frame the parts of a house I might notice, which is why they're all exterior, and I picked details that would indicate someone was walking onto the property chiefly because that is how I was first introduced to the house in my head - start from the road, notice a window, note the curve of the house, allow the eyes to move to the front-door, and realize the shade is being offered by a mighty, massive oak. And it went from there.
Narrative on this post (001)
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