Posted in Scenes

More Work on Understanding Scene Structure

This week, I’m hoping to get through some chapters of Save the Cat. I just barely started on the structure section, where he shows the basic outline he uses and starts explaining both sections. So far, the things he says are making little bells chime in my plot brain, which is good. I managed to work up a thematic premise for my WIP, and–as he does in his examples–I found a way to show that in an early piece of dialogue.

Which of course, will almost certainly change. But still…

The other thing I’m doing is going back to my shelves and rereading some of the YA books that have really hit me, in the tightness of their prose, in the way they move seamlessly through time without feeling in all those details of time-actually-passing. In some of these, the story takes place over a longer period of time than just a few days, and yet the pacing moves quickly and effectively. The best way I can describe it is a lack of any unnecessary clutter.

So far, the books on my to-read-again/take-apart list are:

I’d love to hear any suggestions from you. (Despite the apparent slant of my starting list, the books don’t have to have the word “girl” in the title!) Remember, I’m looking for YA, in which the author keeps their focus really tight, with almost no padding between scenes, and yet manages to convey the passage of time without confusion. I want books in which the story thread is almost always at the forefront, not shadowed or taken over by transitions or background material. (I’m not at all saying that I haven’t read wonderful books that do use a slower lead-in to scene action or take more space for those transitions. It’s just that I’m trying to push myself to a new place, structurally, and I need to be looking at some good examples of stories in which that kind of structure is used.)

Thanks ahead of time for any recommendations you want to leave in the comments!

Posted in Scenes

Friday Five: 5 Quick Things to Remember When You’re Writing a Scene

I’ve been thinking about scenes lately, one of my favorite elements of writing, and thought I’d share.

1. Your hero has to be active. She has to want something and go after it.

2. Your antagonist has to be active. Just like the hero. Even if it’s from behind the scenes.

3. Both goals have to matter. Something has to be at stake; something bad has to result if (almost always when) the hero or antagonist doesn’t succeed.

4. Things have to get worse. Your hero can’t just make one try for the goal, fail, give up, and go back to being okay. He has to do battle, against increasing odds, across the scene. Then he can fail. Badly. (But not give up!)

5. Your hero may have only one antagonist, but that antagonist is not the only place that obstacles come from. Friends cause problems, parents step in the way, your hero becomes self-destructive.  The world itself makes trouble–weather, culture, history—everything can conspire to stop your hero from reaching their goal. Obviously, you’re not going to throw everything all together in one scene, but remember to check out all the choices in the smorgasbord of obstacles, and pick the ones that fit the moment best.

To read more about scene, pick up one or both of these great books: James Scott Bell’s Plot & Structure and Jordan Rosenfeld’s Make a Scene. Then go write a few wonderful scenes of your own.

Posted in Conflict, Scenes

Giving Yourself a Little Push

When I plot, I have some basics I shoot for, in terms of each scene. Yes, I want to know things like who’s there, where are they, what are they doing. What I really want to know, though, is the conflict.

The biggest thing I try to figure out when I plot is my MC’s goal. Not her story-long, big-picture goal, but her specific scene for that goal. And then I need to know what the obstacles are–which characters’ goals are in conflict with hers, and how/why. What is going on in the environment/her world that creates extra problems. How does she sabotage herself?

Most of the time this works for me. I get just enough of these goal+obstacle=conflict pieces down, so that I feel I can move on to plotting the next scene or, if it’s time, writing this one.

Every now and then, though, once I’ve plotted I come across a scene that still feels weak to me. It might be a scene that has something big happening at the end, or a scene I need to show some world-building or to seed something that’s coming later in the story. Okay, fine. But what’s the problem NOW? What’s going to create the what-if feeling in the reader as they read?

The WIP I’m working on now is a much heavier (in emotional intensity, NOT density, I hope!) story than I’ve written before. So, yes, I can have a scene that’s perhaps a bit more action-packed, or that lightens the mood a bit with some comedy, but I can’t just drop in a chapter that’s all laughs and car-chases, without something more. That’s the kind of thing that jars readers, that makes them pull out of the story they’ve been dug into, shake their heads, and say, “Huh?” Doing this is breaking the contract you’ve established with this reader, the one that says, “I’m telling you this kind of story.”

What do you do when you’re writing or revising, and you start working on a scene that you don’t quite “get”? You’ve got a couple of choices. You can tell yourself just to write–to let the words go onto the page and watch where they take you and let your ideas develop as you go. Or you can take a few minutes and muse on goal and conflict, push yourself into the more tense places in your characters’ lives, and think about possibilities.

In either case, I think, this is a time to push yourself. Either while you’re writing, or while you sit with a cup of tea and stare out the window, don’t just accept the first idea that comes to mind. Look at it, make a note, write a few paragraphs about it, and then think. Is this workable? Is this taking you that extra few steps into your characters’, into the conflict & tension that will deepen your story and keep your readers hooked?

It’s amazing how little time this can take. Yes, of course, you are going to run into walls, especially during an early draft, where you just don’t understand enough yet about your book, where you have to throw up your hands, say, “I don’t know!”, leave some kind of note for yourself, and keep writing. But it’s always surprising to me how often, if I have the patience to slow down and listen, that another idea comes to me–a link to the deeper elements of the story. An idea that makes the scene better.

When and how do you push yourself to take that extra time, to sharpen your focus and see what comes?

Posted in Character, Plot, Scenes

Cause: The All-Important WHY

Those of you who’ve been reading this blog for a while know I’m a plotter. I had to “pants” for a while on the first draft of this WIP, and it was not a happy place for me. Effective, yes, but not happy. So, of course, I’m in love with being back to plotting as I work on the second draft.

When I got started, I basically threw a bunch of scenes into Scrivener–things I knew needed to happen. And then I started filling in cards for them–my MC’s scene goal, the obstacles she’d face, and a few details that I wanted to weave in. I took a break from this story to get that picture-book revision done, but now I’m back and I’m trying to tie these scenes together with a bit more connectivity. In other words, I’m figuring out why one scene follows another. Why my character does things. What causes her actions.

I’m big on this when I critique–I tend to push people to really look at the character actions and connect them to the story, ground them in something specific that has actually happened. And I love the magic of staring at a scene in my own work, knowing I’m not there yet, and then…Flash! The lightbulb goes on, and I’ve got it.

It’s easy, when we write, to know the big stuff–the major plot points that will lead to the ending, that will build to the crisis and the character change. In between those plot points, though, is a lot of space. Yes, it can be maddeningly vast and intimidating, but it’s actually there for a reason. It’s where you build to each of those big events, where you layer in the smaller things that show us who your character is, that push her in new directions, and that–yes–cause the big things to happen.

Let’s take an example. Say you’re writing about a teenage boy–Clive–who is about to get his driver’s license. You know that, oddly enough, Clive doesn’t want to drive. So, he’s going to miss his driving test. Fine. Good. Plot point. If you’re one of those amazing people who can write scenes out of order, you write that scene. (If not, you put notes about it into a Scrivener note card!) Just as his dad is coming upstairs to get him for the appointment, Clive climbs out his bedroom window and down the rose trellis. Except the trellis breaks, and so does Clive’s arm. Dad’s truck is a stick-shift. Clive has successfully delayed the inevitable.

Why?

You can start with the general. Let’s say, really early in the book, Clive sees someone die in a horrible accident. Okay–there’s your big why–that’s the reason Clive doesn’t want to drive. But you can’t just let us know this and then, ten scenes later, pop Clive out his window. You have to do some set up. You need to show Clive trying to talk to his parents about not driving and getting no support. You need to show him in driver’s training failing dismally at parallel parking. You could, of course, throw in the ghost of the dead drive who makes Clive relive the crash over and over. You should probably let us know about that rose trellis before the big day, maybe show Clive using it safely when he sneaks out to ask his girlfriend to run away with him.

These are all good. You need to take it one step further, though. You need to determine the single, very specific story moment that sends Clive out that window. You can’t just have his worry build and build over scenes and then–on that day–out he goes. Something concrete has to propel him into action. Like…his dad coming upstairs and “jokingly” waving around the belt he hit Clive with when Clive was a little boy. Or his mom showing him the new wallet she bought him, with the space for his driver’s license, then telling him it’s time to go. Or his irritating sister singing “Little Deuce Coupe” over and over, as she dances back and forth outside his bedroom door and blocks his escape route.

Notice that the action-causing events aren’t always that big a deal, although–yeah–that belt could be pretty intense. These things act as a catalyst for the big action; they’re the match you drop onto the pile of gunpowder. Small, inexpensive, available…but absolutely necessary set things off.

They’re the whys.

Posted in Scenes, Tension

Tension: What Is It & How Do We Write it?

I don’t write suspense thrillers. I haven’t (in a while) worked on a murder mystery. My characters don’t usually have guns, spaceships, or fast cars. (There were no fast cars in 1913!)

I still need tension. But if tension isn’t a chase scene or a shoot-out, what is it?

My dictionary has a lot of definitions. Here’s the one that’s probably the most accurate, for our purposes: The interplay of conflicting elements in a piece of literature. Honestly, though, I like this one better: The act or process of stretching something tight.

Tight. One of my favorite ways to describe strong writing.

Tight writing is where there are no extra words. Tight writing is where the layers are painted in with a few brush strands that have just lightly touched the page…perfectly. Tight writing is where the story pulls us through the words and pages, without us even noticing.

Because those words & pages have tension.

Those words and pages have us wondering about the outcome of the scene, wondering about what will happen next and how the characters will respond. They have us wondering what the characters will cause to happen. It doesn’t always matter if we’re wondering about blood and major injuries. We may be wondering if someone will laugh, if someone will say what they’re actually thinking, if someone will choose the dress that shows cleavage or the one with the high, lace collar.

We need to be watching, waiting, worrying.

How do we, as writers, make our readers do that?

I think we set a goal for the characters. We make it clear what they want, or–at the very least–what they’ve assumed will happen. And we create obstacles. Big obstacles that arc over the scene, and mini-obstacles that hit the characters like scatter-shot, all through the scene. Some of those obstacles come from other characters, some from the environment, and some from the character actually going for the goal. An obstacle can be challenging, painful, irritating or laugh-out loud funny.

It just has to get in the way.

This kind of set-up, these goals and their obstacles keep the reader busy, an active participant in what’s going on. They keep that reader from drifting away because we’ve just loaded them up with too much setting or too much dialog that’s not going anywhere. They structure the whole scene and keep things moving forward. Quickly.

With tension.

Posted in Character, Heroes, Plot, Scenes

What Would Caro Do?

Today, I will get closer to Caro, the hero of my YA WIP.

Well, that’s the plan.

I’m still plotting into the middle. I’d say “through” the middle, but not yet feeling that optimistic. And I’m realizing that part of the problem I’m having with the current mish-mash of scenes is that I haven’t honed in enough on my hero’s active goal. I know her emotional goals, but those don’t really drive her choices and actions–not with her knowledge, anyway. When I was plotting my mystery, I could always ask, “What would my hero do to…solve the mystery?” (And then, of course, I’d ask, what someone else could do to PREVENT his solving it!). That MC had a very concrete, active goal to work toward.

I am not going to sit and stare at my computer or out the window until I come up with the equivalent, active goal for Caro. Because, yes, I could do that until the cows came home and, frankly, had a good laugh at my expense. Instead, I’m going to take it scene by scene for a while. And I’ll look at these elements:

  • What did Caro do in the previous scene or few scenes?
  • What were the consequences of those recent actions?
  • How does she feel about what she did and about what happened?
  • Who did she set up a conflict with?
  • What other character has a strong goal at this time?
  • What story element have I not dealt with in, perhaps, too long?

And out of that, I’m going to give myself a kinder, gentler question to answer.  That question will be, “What would Caro do to…solve some problem.”

This problem may not be the one she actually needs to work on at the time. It may turn out to be a problem that, in the end, I (and Caro) decide to throw away completely. It almost certainly won’t, yet, be the problem that is her equivalent of solving a mystery.  Hopefully, though, it’ll be a problem that lets Caro and I move her plot forward and grow a deeper understanding of what it is she truly wants.

What does YOUR hero want? And what step could she (possibly!) take today to achieve that goal?

Posted in Conflict, Dialogue, Scenes

Triangles-More Angles and Sharp Edges

Geometry? I don’t think so. Triangles, in math, hold no appeal for me.

Triangles in fiction, though, are a whole different subject.

The picture book I’m working on has three characters. Okay, well, four, but one’s a surprise, and I’m not talking about that one yet. But the family–three members.

I knew what the son–the hero–was about. I knew what the father was about. And I knew there was/should be a mother. Even if I didn’t know, at all, what she was about.

I wanted that mother. Not just because, well…I wanted to be in the story. For one thing, I wanted my young hero to have two (albeit well-meaning) antagonists, so he really has to fight to come through the winner. But also because I just like triangles.

Pick a scene, any scene. You’ve got two people in that scene, interacting with each other. Those two people can have a conversation. Those two people can have an argument. Those two people can create some serious tension.

Three can do more.

If you’re reading a scene with two characters, you may get some surprises, but there is a pattern you–as the reader–will be following. It’s kind of like watching tennis or ping-pong. It’s not always back and forth–the server might double-fault, or the receiver get aced. But basically, you know who’s going to hit the ball next. In a scene, you know–basically–who’s going to speak next, or act/react next.

If you add a third character to that scene, all bets are off. You can’t know, as the reader, with any certainty, who’s up next in the rally. You can’t anticipate, for sure, who’s going to be arguing with whom, or when (even if) the third character will throw in their own two cents. You can’t guess, when the hero takes a punch at someone else in the room, whether he’ll hit his target or that other guy in the room.

And, honestly, there are plenty of times when the writer can’t predict any of this either.

So I’m keeping my mother. With the help of a critique from Susan Taylor Brown, I now have the spark of an idea of what the mother is about. I’ll play with that in the next draft and see what she gives back to me, to the story. To that triangle.

Posted in First Drafts, Getting Organized, Organization, Outlining, Plot, Scenes

Thursday’s Target-A Rainbow of Sticky Notes

Yesterday, I reread Robin LaFevers post on index cards. Then I went out and bought some sticky notes. Two packs. Five colors each.

Because I’m confused.

Not from Robin’s post. From my own plot. Too confused to know what to write next. So I’m trying something that occasionally works for me, but only occasionally–going visual.

My MC has three (maybe four) possible paths. Well, in all likelihood, she’ll follow all the paths somewhere in the story. I think. At the end, though, she has to choose one. I know this. I even know WHICH path she’ll choose. I also know (darn it!) that I can’t just lay these paths out sequentially or in parallel, which is how they’re feeling in my brain right now. No, I have to weave them.

Which means I need connections. Overlaps. Characters with more than one role. Layers.

I know, these come in revision. And I’m still on the first draft. Well, actually, I’m just a bit stalled on the first draft.

I think writer’s block may actually be this kind of stall–and maybe more aptly named writer’s jam. It’s not that I don’t have any ideas. It’s not that I can’t see my MC acting, going places, talking to people. It’s that I have LOTS of ideas, lots of action, people, and places. But they’re all crowded together, like I’ve poured them into one of those cake-icing bags–the ones that narrow down to a tiny hole. And all the ideas are trying to get out that hole…at the same time.

So I’m going to play with my sticky notes today, on my whiteboard, and try to come up with some pattern that shows me what to focus on. What to pull out of the hat next. I’m going to use a different color for every scene on one of those three (four?) paths and then try to move things around. (Yes, I know I said I had 10 colors. Hey, you never know!)  Hopefully, I’ll get THE idea that lets me move forward.

What do you do when you need a “lightbulb moment”?

Posted in First Drafts, Plot, Scenes

Writing Out of Order

Yesterday, I typed up a quick “summary” of my story, for a critique partner who’s coming up today to do some talking & brainstorming. Summary is in quotes there, because, well…there are lots of gaps and “I don’t know yets” along the way.

But what I really noticed missing is any real sequence to the events.

It’s not that my MC isn’t making choices. Much. The thing is, she just isn’t making them very well yet, and she’s not being really good about making them based on what’s going on around her.

Silly girl.

What’s the big thing about a synopsis? Cause and effect. Yep. This happens, SO the MC takes this action, which makes this happen, which causes her to do this. Etc, etc, etc… Also the big thing about the whole story plot.

Not there yet.

In my mystery, much as I love my character’s, the story–even the early drafts–was very plot driven. And it was a plot I knew before I started writing, the story of a crime, a need to solve, and steps to find clues, check out suspects, and–along the way–stay out of trouble with mom and dad. When I ended a scene, I could say, “Okay, what would he do NOW? Where does he need to go? Who does he need to talk to?”  In this WIP, while I know my hero’s need, and I know the big choices she’ll face and make along the way, those questions aren’t quite working yet.

I’ve got a picture in my mind of a later draft, where I do use scene cards. I’ll write the main goal and action of each scene on a card, then think and sort and organize into a nice, tight path with just the right balance of action and character growth. It’ll look something like the perfect hand of gin rummy. Or poker.

Not so much like a game of 52-pickup. 🙂

What about you? How do you play with sequence? How much do you worry about getting it right in early drafts? Or do you step back later, work your magic, and get it all to fly into place?

Posted in Character, Conflict, Scenes, Tension

Amping Up Character Tension

This summer I will turn forty-mumble-mumble years old. At this time in my life (says the old, wise one), I have built up a community (or a tribe, as my friend Terri Thayer calls it) of friends with whom I am comfortable and happy, and who help me keep my life interesting and my brain active. When we get together, there’s lots of talking back and forth, sharing of family stories, and laughter. I feel connected and supported.

And if you wrote us into a scene of your book, your readers would be yawning and heading off for a nap. (Well, okay, not right away–we are pretty funny.)

There just isn’t a lot of conflict.

Yes, we’re realistic. Unfortunately, that’s not enough when you’re writing a scene in a story. You need emotion, tension, and some serious problems to deal with. And the characters can’t just be talking about problems; they need to be experiencing some. At that moment.

How do you add conflict to character interaction?

  • Give your characters conflicting goals. I’m not just talking about their big, story goals, but their goals for the scene. What does each of them want right there and then, and where do the goals clash?
  • Add a third character to a scene. Remember how, when your child was small, you were wary of setting up a “triangle” playdate? Guess why. The goals/needs of two people have equal weight. A third person can pick a side, making the scale off-balance. They can give supremacy to one person and put the other on the defensive. Nice!
  • Give one character authority over the other. Bosses, parents, teachers, venture capitalist—they hold the power and can “make” another person do something they don’t want. Anger and resentment, much? Go for it.
  • Weave in a secret. If you want complicated dialog, with some tension, let one character know something the other doesn’t. Are they using it to bribe the second character? Are they desperate to keep that character from finding out? Does the second character suspect the secret? Push/pull…conflict.
  • Add a deadline. People with all the time in the world to talk, accomplish something, or make a plan can, well…take all that time. They can be relaxed, chit-chatty, patient. If they’ve got five minutes to make a decision, though, and they don’t even have all the facts they need—they get rushed, impatient, frustrated, and argumentative. Can you hear the dialog?

We all know the “rule”–no scenes with characters sitting around a table at the coffeehouse, talking. Frankly, I’m okay with a scene (or maybe two) like this, if it doesn’t send the story, or me, into a slump of slow-pacing, frivolous dialog, and happy friendship. As much as I want that in my own life these days, I do not want it in the books I’m reading. Or writing.

Neither do you. 🙂

What do you do to make your characters less happy with each other, more at odds? Leave a comment and share the tip!