Tag: Scenes

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Writing the Scene You’ve Been Avoiding

Posted on by beckylevine

We all have it: that scene the plot is going to demand, or the one that history requires, or the one that really will push your hero to a new place. Sometimes, it’s fun and exciting, the scene we’ve been waiting to get to, that’s been simmering in our brains all along as we work our way toward it.

And, sometimes, it’s not so fun. Sometimes, it’s stressful.

Maybe it’s a romance scene, and you’re not so comfortable putting that stuff on the page. Maybe it’s an anger scene, and it pushed the buttons on your own emotions and self-control. Maybe it targets something from your childhood, maybe even something that’s the reason you’re writing this book–but that doesn’t make it easy. And maybe it’s a matter of putting your character in a place she needs to be, but a place that you, yourself, would never go.

What do you do?

I’m facing one of those scenes this week. For me, it’s one of the ones that history–the history I’m writing about–is making me write. I’ve known all along that I would probably be writing this scene, but I’ve pushed it away. I didn’t touch it during the first draft. It’s actually an okay situation for my hero, who she is, to be in; it is not a situation I would ever choose for myself. It’s a situation different people in my life have told me I perhaps SHOULD have chosen, or be choosing, so there’s a bit of resentment and resistance to add to the complication. The scene has been in the back of my mind, not ever letting itself be completely ignored, pretty much waiting till I got to the point to say, “Fine. Okay. You’re in.”

Or to the point where the story said…”Here.”

I’ve written up to the point where the scene needs to be included. It’s the right time, I think, for my hero to participate. Does that make it easier? Well, actually, yes. Because now the scene has a plot and character purpose; it’s going to do more than just layer in an element of history. And waiting until I got to this point, until the story caught up with the idea, has given me (I think!) a way in. I can see what the scene will do for my character, and how it will complicate her life, instead of mine. I can see her attitude about things, which–yes, has a piece of my attitude, but is most importantly going to be true to her. I think. Waiting…and writing until I was ready, has given me time to get to know my hero and to at least find a point where I can understand and empathize with what she’ll be feeling. And how she’ll be acting.

A point where it won’t be all about me. 🙂

So if you’ve got one of those scenes looming, even in the distance, try not to fret too much. Don’t force yourself to drop it in somewhere just because you know it’s necessary, and don’t spend too much time arguing with yourself about whether to include it at all. Let it sit out there for a while. At some point, I believe, your scene and your story will intersect.

And that’s the time to write it.

Posted in Scenes

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

Posted on by beckylevine

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 Character, Plot, Scenes

Cause: The All-Important WHY

Posted on by beckylevine

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 Character, Heroes, Plot, Scenes

What Would Caro Do?

Posted on by beckylevine

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

Posted on by beckylevine

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

Posted on by beckylevine

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

Posted on by beckylevine

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 Scenes

Scene Transitions

Posted on by beckylevine

Remember, in the days when you were writing essays for English class, and a teacher would write the word  “transition” in the margin of your paper? They wanted you to smooth out the jump from one paragraph to another, to use a phrase that would make the flow of text more clean. So you’d stick in something like “After Joe got home from the zoo…” or “Once Sally dug the pickle out of the pudding…” Then you’d hand the essay back in and hope for a better grade.

When we’re writing fiction, moving our readers from scene to scene, we need transitions, too. What we don’t want, though, is for our stories to sound like high-school essays, with the only goal being a higher grade. If we use an obvious, mechanical solution like the ones I showed above, the writing is not going to make an agent or editor happy. (It shouldn’t make your critique group happy, either.)

So what do we do? How do we keep each scene linked with the one that comes before, the one after, and–honestly–all the other scenes in our book. What can we do to put in that layer of connection that gives the story and the characters the depth and complexity our readers want.

We have to be elephants. That’s right–we have to never forget. Okay, go ahead and forget in your first draft. 🙂 As you revise, though, you’ll need to look at each scene and think about what’s come before. If your hero just got dumped by her boyfriend, you can’t have her move into the next scene in a smiling, happy-dance voice. And if your detective just broke open a major clue in his case, you don’t want to start the next scene showing him curled up with a good book and a glass of wine, ignoring the new path he just discovered. Not without a really good reason.

So you remember the connections. How do you show them, though,  without boring the reader with a restatement of what’s come before or slowing down the action that’s still to come?

Here are a few suggestions:

  • Show your hero stuck in, or fighting off, her mood from the scene before.
  • Drop the characters into an action set up by the previous scene’s cliff-hanger.
  • Send the story in a new direction, but let the main character show an awareness of that change. Let her remind herself (and the reader) that she’ll be coming back to the old, unresolved path soon.
  • Write some dialog between a few characters, to (briefly!) tie together what just happened with what’s going to happen next.

Don’t, as we all did with that pat phrase on our essays, stick your transition awkwardly and obviously into the first sentence of every new scene. But keep the old scene in mind and watch for the right moment to weave the old in with the new. Show your readers the continuity of action and character that makes the story one story, not lots of separate stories connected only by chapter breaks.

How do you work out your transitions? How do you keep the connections playing out in each scene, smoothly and seamlessly?