Story Structure, SiWC Masterclass

Okay, this is the last SiWC post, and this one I didn't actually plan to put up... mainly because I'm having to type this all out by hand now instead of just copying/pasting my notes, and my arm is pretty sore from too much computer work during the past week.

Since I *won* the draw for a free SiWC pass in 2013, I didn't have to pay for the 2014 conference. Because of that, I sprung for a Master Class with the author Eileen Cook (she's also from Vancouver, which is awesome :p), and this was absolutely the high-point of this conference for me.

Since it was a Master Class, I don't feel that it's right to post my notes from this class, but I think it is okay if I post about the story structure component.

One of the greatest disadvantages of being a dyslexic writer is that anything to do with structure/grammar makes absolutely no sense to me.

And I'm not exaggerating here... Ask me to define, or recognize, anything more complicated than a 'noun' and you really will believe I have a learning disability.

My understanding of sentence structure/grammar/etc comes down to three things: repetition (tons and tons of reading), aesthetic instinct (which I believe is also from repetition), and several extremely basic grammar rules that I can understand/recognize... like, when listing three or more things, you put a comma in between them.

Story structure... thinking about it, hearing about it, having it explained to me nearly always puts me into panic-mode... like being parachuted into a non-English-speaking country without money or passport, it absolutely overwhelms me.

Which, I know, most of you probably don't think of that as a big deal... especially those of you who have had your stories critiqued by me. I'm so thoroughly analytical about big-picture stuff that maybe no one has noticed that I almost never talk about the actual structure. And I'm pretty sure it's a major weakness in my own work -> this failure to properly understand structure.

BUT, because I generally like to make things difficult on myself, and because I never want to accept my own limitations, I signed up for this Master Class on editing.

...and finally got the first story-structure explanation that makes sense to me. And you know I like to joke around and say I'm the lowest common denominator... if it makes sense to me, it'll make sense to anyone!

I decided to post this here because I just typed it out for someone else...

So here's the story structure layout that succeeded in hammering basic comprehension into my thick skull:


1) setup -> what the world looks like

a) inciting incident

2) new situation, have to make decision of how to deal with it

b) decision/change of plans (this happens @ the 25% mark)

3) progress -> work towards the goal

c) point of no return ->can no longer go back to the person they were before the decision (this happens at the 50% mark)

4) complications/higher stakes

d) major setback, often death (75% mark)

5) Big push, have to keep going

e) Big climax

6) Aftermath -> what the world looks like now


This is simple. This makes sense to my brain. This I can plug in basic components and *see* the structure of my story.

As an example, I'd use TRoRS, except for the fact it's such a weird story (structural weirdness is only the beginning) that I wouldn't know where to begin.

So how about a story I've talked a little bit about, an older manuscript that a very reputable agent ripped apart and told me to either re-write it as upper YA or MG because, as it currently exists, falls into neither category... (in other words, it's a mess).

Query for this story (so everyone has at least an inkling of what I'm talking about, and this is probably the first 'decent' query I ever wrote):

Where desert wasteland meets raging sea, people die hard, fast and young, but fifteen-year-old Simon doesn’t care about other people, or even about himself. All that matters is protecting his ten-year-old brother, Hector. Everything else can get sunk.

Orphaned, sold, and forced to dredge silt from the local river, Simon is fast to talk his way into a safer job in the red district. Hired by a brothel madam to rehabilitate her daughter, Simon thinks he’s made a good bargain until they meet twelve-year-old Faith. The girl doesn’t talk, she only screams, bites, and lashes out whenever someone gets close. Turning Faith into a normal person seems impossible and the madam has only given them four weeks. If they succeed, they will be fed and clothed until they reach adulthood, but if they fail, they’ll be sold back into indentured slavery where a single slip could mean their death.

Desperate to keep his brother safe, he uses whatever tricks he can to keep Faith’s interest, even when it puts her in danger or he is beaten by the madam’s hand. As the deadline draws closer and Simon’s careful plans begin to fall apart, he must choose where his loyalties lie and which promises he must break.

Told in alternating viewpoints between Simon and Hector, SIMON’S OATH is a 73,000 word YA Fantasy in which two brothers survive by their wits as they struggle, separate, and test the fragile, familial bonds that both tie them together and weigh them down.

And now, this is what that story looks like, following that structure layout:

1) setup -> what the world looks like I started the story with Simon bringing Faith her breakfast, and she basically freaks out. Hector is terrified they'll get sold, Simon reassures him. Simon gets beaten. World building stuff (since it's not based on any specific real world/culture/place/time).

a) inciting incident Simon figures out Faith is always watching the water... and steals a tile with shells in it to (hopefully) catch her interest, and it does. Faith speaks for the first time ever.

2) new situation, have to make decision of how to deal with it Seashells, in the mythology of the world, are cursed, so Simon returns the tile and plots to bring other pretty things... Faith wakes to discover it's missing, chaos ensues. Well, partly due to the shells, more because she's being given a bath. This is the first time Simon/Hector feel sympathy for Faith instead of fear, and they go out looking for new things to show her. The brother's fight and separate.

b) decision/change of plans (this happens @ the 25% mark) Simon convinces Hector they need to get Faith outside, H reluctantly agrees, but still explores on his own and decides they need to go to the mausoleums where (potentially) there are more shells/sea stuff that they can steal.

3) progress -> work towards the goal Simon talks to Faith, working on convincing/manipulating her to go outside, the brothers head to the mausoleums to steal more shells to lure her out... they steal some, but they also find a huge overgrown garden.

c) point of no return ->can no longer go back to the person they were before the decision (this happens at the 50% mark) Because they were stealing shells, Faith freaked out while they were gone and the madam beats Simon when they return home. They essentially 'steal' Faith outside the next day, Simon pushing Faith due to his anger with the madam.

4) complications/higher stakes When they return, the madam hits Hector, and Faith freaks out, but Simon is able to calm her (which is a big deal). The madam gives permission for them to take Faith out again, since she seems a little 'better', but at the same time, kind of writes them off and reiterates the ultimatum. They are running out of time. The brothers take Faith out more, explore the city, Simon manipulating both Faith and Hector. Hector gets resentful/jealous. Faith almost drowns. Hector starts to mistrust his brother. They take Faith to the mausoleums and Hector rebells -> heading into the wild garden that Simon is afraid of.  If I understood more about structure when I wrote this story, I would have more crap/bad things happen here, especially in the garden, as it's essentially their own little paradise. I don't think I raised the stakes enough here.

d) major setback, often death (75% mark) The madam finds the seashells (the ones S&H stole from the mausoleums, which are considered cursed), and in her fury at them bringing shells into her house, she sells Hector to the dredge-line. The brothers are now separated for the first time ever, and Hector could easily slip and die.

5) Big push, have to keep going On their own, Hector starts to find confidence in himself, while Simon starts to fall apart -> he's obsessed with keeping his brother safe, and feels he has failed. Simon's not allowed to take Faith outside anymore since the madam doesn't trust him, and Faith breaks down, causing so much chaos that the madam finally relents. Simon starts taking Faith to the garden daily. Both brothers, on their own, plan for the future in their own way.

e) Big climax the caravan returns, which is the madam's deadline for 'fixing' Faith so she can convince Faith's father to take the girl with him. Simon makes an absolute mess of things by lying/manipulating others and Hector ends up saving the day. I also think this is a point where the stakes were not high enough...

6) Aftermath -> what the world looks like now Okay, this is totally a point where I failed with this MS. Essentially the story ends in the very next scene after the climax so there is no satisfactory resolution.

Part of the reason my end was so crappy is that I wrote the last 30,000 words in 10 days. I was so exhausted by the time I got to the end, it just kindof petered out.

As it turns out, this was also an excellent exercise in making a rough synopsis of the story :)

Really, until I just did this exercise a few minutes ago, I had no idea whether this story conformed to proper structure in the least... so not only did I learn something at the class, I learned something 5 minutes ago putting it into practice.

Definite high-point :)

...and now I kinda want to rip this story apart and re-write it ;)

No, Alcar. Faith and Simon will NOT end up together in a love-love relationship... /shudder/ the thought still creeps me out.

Well, hopefully that was as helpful for you as it was for me (it kinda blew my mind, to be honest), and if it didn't, well, you got a glimpse at an old manuscript of mine that is not 'trunked', but has definitely been put on the back-burner for a while.

Link to an editing/typing article

Thanks, RADesilets, for the interesting link :)

New perspective on old work

I'm a very bad dog-parent. To write a previous post about my dog getting over her fear of water, I actually had to email my mom and ask how old my dog was so I could give the correct number of years. (she's still 50% analog and has all birthdays/ages written on a wall calendar)

Before I gave in and emailed her, I was looking back through my old posts... 'cause I know I've put up a post or two on Eva's birthday with her age and a photo... but for the life of me, I couldn't find any of them.

Maybe I need a new label for 'pets'...?

Anyways, in that search, I unearthed this old post of mine about looking back on old work with a new perspective...

It was interesting, and oddly relevant, since a few weeks ago I was cleaning up my back-up drive, found some old writing files, and re-read Project #5, (AotD) the Northern Fairytale story.

Since the story is only about 1/3 written, and was started as an exercise to give me headspace from TRoRS before heading into my first round of edits, and then I continued to pick away at AotD whenever I was edit-blocked on TRoRS, the story was... quite interesting to re-read. And a good lesson on why multi-tasking is impossible for 98% of human brains (I won't bore you with footnotes, but a lot of research suggests this is true).

There's a lot of good in AotD... certainly more than I could see when I saved the file for the final time and dove into other work.

...but there's also a heck of a lot of things to laugh at. It is an unfinished first draft after all...

The major 'laugh-point' is, because TRoRS switches between past and present tense, I guess whenever I returned to AotD (unfortunately) I carried through with that... often switching within the same scene. Sometimes within the same paragraph. And (embarrassingly) more than a few times in a single sentence.

...fixing it is an amusing (future) prospect to ponder. Though I still do love the Lady of Crows as much as I did the first time she spilled out of my head and onto the keyboard...


I wrote that old post two years ago. While I remember writing it, while I recognize my own 'voice' in the wording (and the self-deprecating humour), I have new perspective. I don't think I agree with it 100% anymore.

More than re-reading an old story after giving it some space, re-visiting an old opinion is infinitely more interesting.

One of the primary things that has always driven me to write is a long history of looking stupid.

...and again, it's not something I'm angry about, or upset about. It's simply one of the building-blocks of who I am.

But it is interesting to compare my attitude in that first old post with this one (written 5 months later), and then this one (written 2 months after that, and yes TRoRS was previously titled BF).

...and in re-reading these few posts, I'm not entirely certain what my perspective on the subject is now...

...but finding lines that make me laugh, or lines of description that take my breath away (figuratively, not because they are Victor Hugo-esque run-on sentences...) in a partially written first-draft story, well, I think that's an amazing thing.

Having a bit of perspective on old work, and being surprised more at the good than the bad, well that certainly speaks volumes, both about my growth as a writer, and as a person.


...and even though it would give me a more objective sense of how far I've come as a writer, I still have zero desire to ever unearth my first piece of 'longish fiction', (melodramatically entitled) "The Burning Cross", written for a Grade 9 Social Studies project.

Somethings are best kept buried, or burned ;)

Switching voices and the first day of NaNo

My brain has been full of 'The Rules of Riding Shotgun' these past couple of weeks. I think I've read through the entire manuscript 7 or 8 times.

I re-read the start of 'Scarlight' yesterday to prepare for NaNo, and I already noticed a few things I'm going to have to watch for when swapping voices from the anonymous MC of 'Shotgun' to the cynical/bitter Jay from 'Scarlight'.

I wanted the MC to sound really anxious, so s/he has these really long run-on sentences that leave you breathless, and partially formed half-sentences (usually starting with 'and' or 'but') since I wanted to mirror Triss' car, the way it struggles to get going, but when it does, it's going fast and the brakes don't work very well. I know that's something no one's picked up in the story, and I don't care. It was there for myself, 'cause I'm, 'know, just slightly over-analytical about weird things :)

Jay, on the other hand, is really eloquent/learned, but he shifts fast between almost bored disinterest, and sharp, cutting comments/observations. He's a little unstable, but fiercely fighting to always seem in control. I'm thinking about different brush strokes when I write Jay's voice, at how different amounts of pressure and lift can completely change the depth and breadth.

The two characters really aren't that similar, and I'm pretty careful about giving characters different voices, even in their thoughts, but sometimes things leak in accidentally... and since I've spent so much time (lately) in MC's head, I don't want any of that getting on Jay. (See? MC's voice right there! I only noticed while doing a final edit/check of this post.)

Some of the 'Shotgun' MC words/phrases:

I swear
'cause
rabbit
any excessive description having to do with the heart, breathing, and/or temperature
jacked up
messed up
cranked
wired
any metaphors/similes having to do with cars/engines/driving/music
starting sentences with 'and' or 'but'
comparing normal/crazy
fight/flight instinct


Strangely enough, out of all of those, I think the "starting sentences with 'and' or 'but'" is going to be the hardest to weed out, and it'll have to be something I purposefully go back and check for.

Jay is definitely more biting/sarcastic in the way he notices things, and since he's an artist, he sees/thinks more by colour/shape/light/etc than by temperature and proximity (the MC has a really strong 'thing' about touching). Jay has a touching thing too, but it's a desire to touch, rather than an aversion.

One small thing I know now, after re-reading 'Scarlight' (well, the 15,000 words I have written of it) is where Kell lives. There was a funny, dangling little paragraph I had written at the end of the file, and I had no idea if it even belonged in the story or not, but it clicked... it's where Kell lives.

Now, of all the things I have to watch for, there are several things I know are going to be 'repeated', since they're in every story I write:

1) There's always at least one vomit reference/joke

2) There's always something about a cat (even just a reference, or something somewhat disgusting, like in 'Shotgun')

3) Tactile sensations are always very important, as is colour and temperature.

4) Now that I'm keeping that dangling scene, there's also a shower scene :) ...and if you were around back when I was first drafting 'Shotgun', you might remember that the shower scene was pretty much my favourite scene to write in the entire story. Mostly, 'cause it was funny. But maybe it was a scene only I would find funny...

5) I think the one factor that's always in any story I write, even in the short flash fiction pieces, is my characters are always missing something fundamental, something that makes them decidedly less human, or stunted, when compared to those around them. Probably my 'Shotgun' MC is missing the most (even his/her gender!), but finding the missing piece of themselves is always a very large part of their character arcs.

Jay is... hmmm, missing empathy, I suppose. He feels he's been betrayed & ditched so many times that he no longer knows how to connect with other people, and has no desire to. He's a little sociopathic when you get right down to it, but in a sad sortof way.

Yeah... I really DO write 'unlikable' characters, don't I?

Well, I'm going to walk Eva, then sit down and whack out my 1,667 words for the day.


How about you guys? Whether you're doing NaNo or not, how do you prepare to swap into the right voice of a particular story? Do you have a playlist, or re-read the last page you wrote? How do you ensure you're sticking with a character's unique voice and don't let another character's (or your own!) leech in?

Every word counts: streamlining

Okay, I promise this is the last nerdy post for a while :) This one’s the wrap-up.

...do I hear a collective sigh of relief? Yes, yes, here’s the ladder, so those who jumped in here with me and have kept reading can now climb out of the rabbit hole and scurry to safety...

(isn’t ‘scurry’ a wonderfully delicious/strong word?)

If I’ve managed to succeed in even the smallest way, I hope you can see your writing through slightly different, OCD-tinted lenses.

So, what about application? I’ve thrown eight looooooong posts at you, this is number nine (over 9,000 words and counting), but I originally talked about method, strategy, process.

I think the best way to learn to recognize, and rectify the amorphous ‘show vs tell’ is to write, and edit flash fiction.

Start with a 500 word story, and whittle it down to 300 words. Write a 300 word story, and make it 200 words. Take a 200 word story, strip it to 100 words. Write a 100 word story, and edit until it’s 75 or even 50 words.

Overcompensate. Overwrite. Yes, that's what I'm saying, and that's the reason I posted first-draft material as examples, 'cause I do it ALL the time. Every word counts in the end, but often it's easier to use many words until you've nailed down your point, then delete the unnecessary/filler words later. This is also a good way to figure out what works best for the voice of your characters. How would they describe/explain something? Write it three different ways, then choose the best one, and delete the rest.

In first drafts, I always circle my point like a vulture over roadkill... and only feast when I’ve whirled around and around, and I recognize the piece I want by its perfectly ripe flavor.

If you don't like writing flash fiction, or find it intimidating, you can also do this by choosing one scene from a larger manuscript, which is what I'm going to use here to hopefully illustrate my point.

This is also a great test to see if your characters have distinct ‘voices’ by removing as many dialogue tags as possible.

I'm not actually a chronic over-writer... I used to be, but my first drafts have become way more streamlined/clean from practice. Now I tend to start with very little information, and flesh it out later, which is how I do get myself into trouble once in a while. Janice Hardy had a challenge on her blog, so this is what I edited down to fit the requirements. 

I'm going to post the original first. It was 648 words, I also specifically edited out all swearing (I try to be considerate when it's on someone else's site):

(by the way, this scene is the second half of the one used for description/body language)

Then there’s a double-fisted bang at my door. 

I jump.

I breathe.

I wasn’t breathing until now. Not enough. I’m lightheaded. Blink, breathe. Eyes are dry. Hands, still moving?

“Jay, X-Box!”

Damn it. It’s Donovan.

He pounds again. “Jay, it’s already hooked up, so take off your lipstick and panties for an hour, and come down.”

“I’m working.” My hands are trembling, fingers black. God, it feels so damn good to draw.

“No you’re not.” There’s a shuffle and squeal as the door cracks open. Donny wedges his head inside. “Oh, that’s not the hot white chick you were painting last year.” 

Before I can dignify his incomprehensibly obvious statement with a response, he makes it worse by speaking again.

“Why do you have a Mexican in your room? Are you paying her in food stamps to take her clothes off?”

Blood may be thicker than water, but it’s not thicker than bigotry. The guy is a serious asshole. I’d like to say he grew up in a cult compound, had nut-job parents who taught him to fear his own shadow, or maybe blame it on generations of inbreeding, but that’s not it at all.

Donovan is just an ass, but at least he’s equally an ass to everyone. He calls me a homo ‘cause I paint, and his dad a redneck, even though my uncle is an accountant of all things.  Maybe ‘cause the guy drives one of those small Toyota pickups. I’ve even heard Donny call his mom a bitch, right to her face. Actually, I think he calls all girls ‘bitches’.

I know you can’t choose your family members, but I sure as hell believe you can choose to walk the other way when you see one coming.

Since it’s my house, and my workroom, this isn’t a case where I actually could walk away, but I put down my stick of charcoal and turn around. It’s more difficult than I expect to control the volume of my own voice. “She’s not naked, and she’s not Mexican, you half-wit.”

“She’s brown, ain’t she? That wasn’t racist, y’know, ‘cause she is brown, and anyways, I have the right to free speech.” Donovan winks and flips up both middle fingers. “First amendment, all the way. If you don’t like it, suck it. We’re in America.”

An instant migraine spears through my frontal lobe, and I’m about to yell at him again, when Kell breaks in.

“Wow, double-digit-IQ here knows which country he lives in. Gold stars all around.” She doesn’t sound angry, or even sarcastic. There’s amusement sparking in her low voice.

I manage a tight laugh. “Southpark here gets all his charm from from YouTube. He’s a sophomore at St. Anthony’s.”

Her lips stretch in that weird, not-a-smile way. “I didn’t know private schools consider geography an elective class. I suppose it’s considered extraneous, along with diplomacy and etiquette.”

Donny snorts, tugging at his blue and red striped tie. His shirt is untucked, his pants wrinkled, there are grass stains on his knees. “I’m taking automotive shop, not French.”

Kell’s mouth may not be curved, but her eyes are dancing. “I guess changing oil is one step up from making fries.”

“Hey, Taco Bell, go back to Mexico so Jay and me can shoot shit on the seventy-two-inch plasma.”

“Donovan!” I’m about to get seriously pissed.

But Kell leans forward, out of the good light. “Call of Duty?”

“Fuck, yeah!”

Then she’s off the stool and navigating the room like she’s twirling through a choreographed routine she could maneuver in her sleep. “You better bring your A-game, Butters, ‘cause I’m going to kick your ass.” She pounds a fist into Donny’s shoulder as she slips past him into the hallway.

He turns and gapes at me. “Damn, that kinda hurt!”

Then he’s chasing her downstairs.

Now, here it is edited down to exactly 250 words. I did it really fast, so I know I could have removed more, or been more effective:

There’s a double-fisted bang on my door. “Jay, X-Box.”

“I’m working.”

“Take off your lipstick and panties for an hour!” Donny wedges his head through the crack and sees Kell. “Why do you have a Mexican in your room? Are you paying her in food stamps to take her clothes off?”

Blood may be thicker than water, but it’s not thicker than bigotry. I know you can’t choose your family members, but I sure as hell believe you can walk the other way when you see one coming.

I put the charcoal down. “She’s not Mexican, you half-wit, or naked.”

“But she’s brown. That wasn’t racist, y’know, ‘cause she is brown, and anyways, I have the right to free speech.” He winks. “First amendment, all the way.”

Before I can yell, Kell breaks in.

“Double-digit-IQ here knows what country he lives in. Gold stars all around.” She doesn’t sound angry, or even sarcastic.

I manage a tight laugh. “Donny’s a sophmore at St. Anthony’s”

“I didn’t realize private schools consider geography an elective, along with diplomacy and etiquette.”

Donny snorts. “I’m taking automotive shop, not French.”

“Changing oil is one step up from making fries.”

“Hey, Taco Bell, get out so Jay and me can shoot stuff.”

“Donovan!” I’m about to get seriously pissed.

But Kell leans forward, out of the good light. “Call of Duty?”

“Oh, yeah!”

“Then I’m going to kick your butt.”

He grins. “Well, I don’t mind if you’re wearing lipstick.”

So, what do you think? Did I lose any of the essence of the scene? I lost bits of action, lines were simplified, explanations trimmed, the last line changed, but the voices of all three characters remained distinct. Even when I took out a bunch of the dialogue tags, you should still know which character is speaking.

Take one of your own scenes, and start cutting.

When it’s trimmed down, read it again, cut more.

Think about everything we talked about: description, voice, body language. Think about subtext. Can you use one word/image to imply multiple meanings, or to suggest state of mind? Can you add words from a description, or take away, to accentuate what the character cares about? What about body language? Can you express emotional/psychological/physical state of one character, simply through the observational skills of another character without ‘telling’? What words are you using that are weak, and can you swap them out with a few strong ones?

Now start adding back in.

Alrighty, that’s my process for new scenes, first-drafts, flash-fiction, and novels. Those are the main components I always keep in the back of my head when I write, when I measure/analyze/edit my own words to death, and when I critique my CP’s writing. It’s why I don’t normally do line edits, because sometimes there ends up being more blue text (my comments/questions) than black text.

Okay, this series is now finished, so what did you guys think? Did I miss something, or totally go off-base? Was there something that could be explained better, or confusing parts? I’m definitely willing to refine the posts if you have things to say/critiques/suggestions, or write a new post if you anyone has questions.

Was this helpful at all? I’m never sure when I skulk off on nerdy-tangents whether anyone enjoys it, or if you’re all rolling your eyes and wondering when I’m going to shut up.

It took about 10 hours to write these posts... about 10,000 words in one day (except the examples from SCARLIGHT), and by the end, it felt like my brain was skipping around like a carbonated wasp. I’m sure there were points where I utterly failed at clarity, if not managed to completely bastardize the English language. I expect to be strung up for my crimes, eventually.

Now, anyone who still wants a critique, todays' the last day to email me. 250-ish words only, please.

...after today, that’s the end of it, and only my CP’s will get to enjoy? my insanely OCD-over-analysis-editing of their writing. (Y’know, there might be a reason I keep moving... so no one can sneak up in the middle of the night and take revenge)

Oh, I've decided not to post them online, just to email them back to those who send them to me.

That be all, folks ;)

Back down the rabbit-hole I go :) It was nice having you visit the unfortunate, over-cluttered insanity that is my brain. Aren’t you glad you don’t have to live in here?

Subtext makes for some interesting math

The previous posts about strong words, the benefits and dangers of implied meanings, voice, body language, and description were all a way of talking about subtext.

Now, I know this isn’t true for everyone, but I’ve read some posts/blogs where people seem to want to create a marked division between commercial and literary writing. Often one side is bad-mouthing the other.

I’ve heard ‘subtext’ thrown around like it’s a dirty word.

Subtext isn’t exclusively for literary works, for MFA grads looking down from lofty, academic heights on the commercial-lit slums.

Subtext IS showing, not telling. It’s using implied meanings, it’s using subtle word play, like when the character uses ‘I’. It’s in body language, metaphor, description, and a million other fun things that give writing depth, and make it memorable. Chances are, your favourite scenes from your favorite books are packed-full of subtext. Remember this exercise I linked earlier?

Words without subtext are dead, nothing more than the bland combination of letters. 2 + 2 will always equal 4, but with subtext, it could equal 5, 10, or 23, because the reader is bringing in that added element themselves.

Subtext brings life, it brings breath, it brings volume, it brings weight and depth.

I’ve said, oh, so many times that I am sick of hearing myself say it, that I hate writing background. I prefer to write the implication of background, hand it off to my beta readers, and go kicking and screaming into edits... adding in the absolute minimum of background information so the story makes sense.

Here’s another rough first-draft snippet from SCARLIGHT, pay attention to what I’ve bolded. Also, since we’ve talked about the use of ‘I’, pay attention to where it shows up, and where it doesn’t. What does Jay notice/describe, and what does he ignore? Think about what the implied background is. What am I saying, not directly, but through subtext about Jay, his father, Aricia, the principle, etc?

They try to call dad. Of course they do. Of course he doesn’t pick up. The end-of-day bell rings, the halls fill with bodies. I ask for a box from the office and clean my locker out. Everyone watches, lingering, whispering. Even Ari slows down as she goes by, the buckles and chains on her Coach bag catch the dull, fluorescent light and transform it into something beautiful.

When I’m done, I march back to the office and stack the school textbooks neatly on the secretary’s desk. I sit on the sofa, the leather one which is dyed British racing-green and has mahogany-stained claw legs. The box on the floor, and my bag is on my lap. I could listen to music, but I don’t. I could pull out my sketchbook, but I don’t. I sit. I wait.

They keep calling dad. He still doesn’t pick up.

Actions speak louder than words.

I’m all packed up, ready to leave if they can’t do what I asked.

There are phone calls. School is out at three o’clock. Four-thirty rolls by, the halls are empty, the secretary is long gone, but the principle is still in his office with Dreschner.

He comes out only once to ask me if I know the girl’s name.

“Pink dreadlocks, green eyes. There’s got to be only one.”

He frowns, and closes the door.

One line I really hope you paid attention to was, “Actions speak louder than words.”

Look at the placement.

It’s not in the paragraph where Jay is making his very obvious point... sitting on the sofa with his stuff in his lap, not listening to music or opening his sketchbook.

It’s after the line about his dad not picking up, then is followed by Jay saying he’s ready to go if they don’t do what he wants.

What am I trying to say by placing it there, specifically?

...hopefully, you’re getting that Jay has learned this behavior, this ‘lesson’, from his father’s own actions. I wanted to link them together, so I moved lines around so I could position it in that exact spot.

Another small thing, I don’t know if anyone got, is the line about Ari. Jay talks about ‘everyone’ in 4 words. He takes 29 to notice Ari (his ex-girlfriend) slightly slowing down, and stares hard enough to know her bag’s brand, and how light plays on the accessories.

Description, voice, subtext: it’s often in what’s not said directly, but the clues are all there, if you take the time to line them up, and that’s what I mean when I say 2 + 2 could add up to 5, 10, or 23. Some readers love hunting out subtext, others would have skimmed the line about Ari and not given it a nanosecond of additional thought.

There’s no right or wrong, but I think, as a writer, I want to cater to both kinds of reader. SO, I don’t want to mire anyone in unnecessarily convoluted words to draw attention to the subtext and bore the heck out of those who hate it, nor do I want to leave it all out and leave hungry-subtext-lovers dissatisfied. There’s a happy medium when you go for quality over quantity. Efficiency.

Choosing strong, effective words allows you to keep subtext short and effective. One word instead of ten.

Whether I succeed or not is up to the reader. All I can do is state my intention, my reasoning, and my strategy for achieving it.

This is how I like to write.

Good or bad, love it or hate it, these are qualities of my voice, as a writer.

Can you 'see' the body language?

Fair warning: the next few posts are going to be long because I'm using large chunks of text for examples. Reminder: they are all first-draft, so are subject to change.

You’ve already seen part of the scene I’m going to use today, so first I’m going to show you how I could have written it, but without touching a word of the dialogue, or changing what happens:

Kell stops at the door of my workroom and looks around at the mess.“You weren’t kidding.”

“No,” I reply.

She walks in, and I shut the door.

“Where do I sit?” Kell asks.

I pick up the stool and put it by the window, where there’s good light.

She touches the seat. “Retro,” she says sarcastically.

I’m embarrassed, and a little angry.“It’s... it was my grandmother’s piano stool.”

“Ah, that’s why it’s so short,” she says, and sits down.

I put a big newsprint sketchbook on the easel and start drawing with charcoal.

Kell is beautiful. She’s got dark, Middle-Eastern skin and almond shaped green eyes. She’s wearing lots of eyeliner and mascara. It’s hard to draw the texture of her pink dreadlocks, which are growing out, so there are dark roots.

It’s hard to draw her body because she’s wearing a baggy hoodie.

Since she’s here, and I don’t know if I’ll have another chance, I draw a dozen sketches as fast as I can.

Now, here is how I actually wrote it, I hope the bolded bits aren’t too distracting.

Kell pauses at the doorway, one hand lingering on the frame. Only her eyes move, sharp, careful, absorbing everything.

Finally, she steps across the threshold. “You weren’t kidding.”

“No.” The word doesn’t come out as firm as I wanted it to. Maybe because I was holding my breath.

She glides through the mess, the stacks of oil pallets, the boxes full of smaller boxes, full of unmixed paint, oil, plaster, and turpentine. She doesn’t hesitate, she doesn’t shy away from the precariously balanced piles, she turns and moves with confidence, like in the couple seconds she looked over the room, she memorized the placement of every bolt of fallen canvas and protruding frame.

It’s not logical, but she does it. I pull the door closed, gently.

“Where do I sit?”

I fumble forward, bang my knee, stub a toe, but I get to the canvas. I heft the green three-legged stool over my head so I can maneuver it over to the window without knocking anything over. The afternoon light is still good, enough to sketch by, anyway.

She runs one finger over the seat. “Retro.”

My face gets hot. “It’s... it was my grandmother’s piano stool.”

“Ah. That’s why it’s so short.”

She doesn’t sit, she doesn’t flop, she alights. That’s it. That’s the movement I want to capture. That effortless grace she can’t hide with ripped Ed Hardy hoodies and faded pink dreadlocks. But I’m not Pollock, I don’t paint movement, I want light. Her light.

I pull the canvas from my easel and prop a large two-foot-by-three-foot newsprint sketchbook in its place. The old mug with charcoal is on my left, and I grab a piece without my eyes leaving Kell. I don’t want to waste a moment of looking at her.

She sits still, but awkwardly. Her hands squished between her knees, palms pressed together inside the sleeves of her butterfly print hoodie, shoulders drawn inward. Her chin is up, eyes bright and defiant, an odd juxtaposition with her closed-up body language. She’s not looking at me, but at the door. She’s motionless, but you can almost see the desire to move slowly building up inside.

The light on her skin is deep amber, the same color as the flecks in her green irises, and the shadowed areas rich coffee with cream. The lines of her eyes are exotic, almond shaped, though it might be the heavy black makeup that’s making a connection in my brain to Egyptian kole. 

Almond, maybe that’s actually the color of the flecks in her eyes, not amber. More red in the mix than yellow. No, too much red. Hard to tell in this light. Later, next time, I’ll get closer.

Her roots are espresso black, the hot-pink dye faded to the flush ripeness of a wilting peony. There are no highlights or shadows. Light gets tangled in her dreadlocks, Escher-maze knots of intertwining color and light. A Japanese woodblock print of a tatami mat, Van Gogh’s haystacks, an entire season of fields in Schaefer’s ‘Ontario Farmhouse’. Repetition of pattern, but not uniform. Not consistent. How to bring out the texture with minimal detail, to not lose the blurred light?

Hoodie, always in a damn hoodie, or long sleeved layered shirts. 

Hard to see, can’t get the shape of her body lines. Subtle curves, no straight lines. Breasts? There, small. Fits with the lithe muscle and low BMI.

Ten, no, maybe twelve pages already. Hands work fast, breath shallow. The familiar ache of desperation to sketch quickly, to capture everything before she moves.

A memory flits through my head, sketching robins on the grass. Pause, hop, then the whip-quick dive of their beak into the lawn to snatch a worm. Pause, wings flip out, legs bend, and an instant later, in flight.

One second to note and render the pose, maybe two. Fast, work faster to catch it before it’s gone.

I'm not going to bother with description, I mostly pulled out the words/phrases that imply state of mind, things that aren’t being said, but are important. You’re going to see this scene again in the next post, which will focus on description.

Kell, if you notice, constantly pauses/holds still, then moves quickly, but confidently. She doesn’t speak much, but from the way she moves, it should be clear that she thinks her options through before making a decision, and then acts on it without hesitation. She commits. She is not afraid, or self-doubting. Even though she’s a guest, even though this is her first time in Jay’s house, even though she is the model (passive) to his artist (active), she is the one in control, both of herself, and of the situation. She can get up and leave anytime she wants, and Jay is acutely aware of that fact, even though it’s never stated.

The robin description at the end builds on Jay’s impression of her, which is why he is moving/acting the way he is. Look at the words I bolded.

Is it obvious enough, how afraid he is that she’s going to leave? She has all the power in this scene. He’s scrambling to gather crumbs as quickly as he can, and getting frustrated. You may have noticed that I deliberately changed the rhythm of the writing as Jay starts sketching, hopefully illustrating how, as he starts to concentrate, he’s shutting everything unnecessary out... yet, that’s when I bring out the robin. Why? Because his fear is subconscious, and ingrained/interwoven with his painting.

When we are overwhelmed, we often concentrate on things that seem silly/unimportant, because we need to focus on something that we have control over, or that we could have control over. The difference between ‘risk’ and ‘uncertainty’.

I also repeat ‘ideas/impressions’, without reusing the same words. I remember in university, a professor told me, if you say something once, nine out of ten people will forget what you said. Say it twice, and maybe four or five will remember it. Say it three times, and nearly everyone will remember.

The trick is, how to say something three times without it being obvious that you’re doing so. 

This is especially noticeable with body language. I know I actually count how many times characters shrug or roll their eyes.

How many times, in how many ways did I ‘show’ that Kell is thinking about leaving, or that she isn’t keen on the idea of staying? The primary vehicle I used was her body language, but if you notice, half of it was directly what she was doing/not doing, but the other half was how Jay was responding to her body language, without being consciously aware of it.

The story is in his voice. He’s the one overlapping the image of a wild bird onto Kell. He's 'choosing' the words to describe how he sees her.

One further note on body language... 99% of the time, people are unaware of their own body language, unless they are doing it deliberately. Like, smiling to put someone at ease, or when they catch themselves doing something, like a nervous tick. We notice other people’s body language, and our brain registers it, but most of the time, we don’t consciously think about what it implies.

I deliberately inserted how Jay notices that Kell moves easily/confidently through the room, then in the very next paragraph, he fumbles/stumbles... in his own space, which he should be intimately familiar with. He notices his own clumsiness, but doesn’t think about ‘why’.

Just like he notices he was holding his breath, but doesn't think about it any further, then immediately closes the door gently/quietly when she finally does go into the room.

What implications can you glean from that? About Jay, and about Kell?

Since our brains are used to picking up on body language, but normally we don’t analyze/process it consciously, it’s a great way to subtly get across a character’s emotional state without telling the reader, “she is comfortable/confident”, or “he is anxious”.

BUT, when a character is always thinking/noticing their own body language, it comes across as manipulative.

Like, the example of smiling to put someone else at ease. They could be smiling because they notice the other person is nervous, or they could be doing it so the other person will drop their guard and they can take advantage of them.

Think about the body language you use... what does your character notice about the people around him/her, and how much? Does he/she ever jump to the wrong conclusion based on what he/she sees? Also, what of his/her own body language? When is he/she actively aware of what he/she is showing, and why?

Depending on a character’s background, they might be more inclined to pay attention to some kinds of body language, like kids who grew up in abusive homes, or with parents who are/were addicts, are highly skilled at recognizing the subtle signs of oncoming violence, anger, etc.

Someone who knows martial arts, or other athletic skills, will recognize, and make judgements, about people simply on how they stand or move, similarly to how, someone who is very into fashion, will make snap judgements based on whether someone is wearing ill-fitting clothes, or someone who has struggled with their weight will be sensitive to other character’s BMI, what they are eating, etc.

Jay only consciously notices the physical, what he would recreate on his canvas, but he unconsciously notices much more, and is reacting to it without realizing.

So, what is important to your character, and how could that figure into what they directly notice, and what they instinctively react to?

The notion of 'I', objective vs. subjective

Sorry to anyone popping over from the 'Like a Virgin' contest, but I had already pre-scheduled a series of nerdy posts to go up, and this is number... 5? of 9? Something like that.

For those interested, they're posting the accepted submissions today, so jump over and critique away!

(and shred mine to bits. seriously. go for it. they cut out any personal stuff in the queries, but anyone hanging around here for a while should know which one is mine.)


Let's get into 'Voice' today.

I've already nerded-out on this topic in the past, like the one about emotional intelligence (which you might want to click/read after finishing this post), another one on obsessions, and another on decision making.

A couple weeks ago Carol Riggs linked another post about toxic personalities.

Sarah Fine also has some great psychology-based posts. I am going to re-read her series about trauma before returning to give ‘TRoRS’ another hard look/edit.

One reason I’ve heard people get annoyed by first-person narratives is the over-use of ‘I’.

Now, here’s my theory/perspective on using ‘I’, which I have never read/heard anywhere else... so, 100% opinion. Okay? Pitchforks down, grains-of-salt on hand?

1) ‘I’ personalizes an experience, so there is conscious/unconscious recognition within the character that they are filtering the world/experience through their own, unique point of view.

‘I’ = subjective.

Make sense?

So, not using ‘I’, implies objectivity.

To compare:

I think you are being an ass.

vs:

You are being an ass.

Why am I making this distinction? Because I think the level of self-awareness is the base of every ‘voice’.

Does the character believe themselves to be objective, or subjective? Which leads to:


2) ‘I’ takes/assumes responsibility for an opinion, rather than stating the ‘correct answer’.

Now compare:

I think plan ‘B’ is best.

vs:

Plan ‘B’ is best.

Depending how self-aware your character is, they may believe their view is completely objective. They would rarely use ‘I’ when describing the world around them, or the people they interact with. They would state, with confidence, this is the way things are.

In contrast, characters who are full of self-doubt, or who are deferring to another character, will inevitable tag on, ‘I think’, to clarify that they are not 100% correct.

Did you notice I did that earlier in this post?

I was intentionally clarifying that I do not believe I have ‘the answer’, I only have ‘my opinion’. There's a very good reason I never create posts with titles like, "The five ways to write better characters", because the connotation is that I have 'the answer', and even though I was in marketing (or perhaps, because of it), I always want to make sure the words I put out there are as true as I can make them.

Now, a character is not going to use ‘I’ every time, for everything, nor will they never use it. The question is, when are they confident, and when are they not?

If you are trying to correct someone’s behavior, whether it’s a boss correcting a subordinate, or a parent correcting a child, it’s a well known tactic that personalizing the bad behavior offers the highest chance of success.

What you said hurt me.

vs.

What you said might hurt someone.

The stakes are higher when they’re personal.

So, how does this figure into writing characters?

Here’s Jay, who is a famous artist at seventeen, ‘telling it like it is’ about his Art class. (Remember, ALL first-draft material) Note, there’s no use of the word ‘I’ anywhere in the first two paragraphs. In his mind, he is being completely objective:

Two girls are dabbing botched watercolor paintings with paper towels by the sink. One guy is trying to sculpt a naked women out of clay, but the disproportionately giant breasts are making it top-heavy, so it keeps keeling over at the waist. A group of girls are sitting on the desks by the window flipping through magazines, and someone else, can’t tell if it’s a guy or girl, is asleep on the floor next to the kiln. This class is a joke, full of stoners, slackers, and girls who think henna and nail art is hot shit.

Dreschner is at his easel, taking up in the only good patch of natural light in the entire room. He’s working on his own neo-modern-bullshit, which looks like several mass-produced IKEA prints threw up on his canvas.

Same scene, a little later. Note: Jay only uses ‘I’ when he’s doing something on purpose (and I will probably take out a couple of them during editing):

Around me, everyone starts moving. I yank my headphones off and catch the last reverb of the dismissal bell. Dreschner stays at his easel, a brush impotent in his hand as the classroom clears. 

I tear the page out of my sketchbook, ball it up, and whip it across the room, but miss the garbage can by a good ten feet. Dreschner doesn’t even twitch, not from my bad throw, and not when I slam my bag on the desk and shove in my sketchbook and headphones. I snag a peek at his canvas as I walk by. There hasn’t been a new stroke of paint on the thing in ages, but three times a week he sits at that easel for two hours, in the only good light, with a fully loaded brush in his hand.

Glad I’m not the only one going through a dry spell.

“See you Monday, Jason,” Dreschner calls. He sounds distracted, tired.

Washed up, maybe. Those that can’t do, teach. Isn’t that the saying?

Now, theoretically, how would this scene look if I re-wrote it from Mr. Dreschner’s perspective...? Or another student? If Jay wasn’t famous, again, I’m sure this scene would be completely different. 

Think about Jay’s conclusion in the first paragraph. Looking at his classmates, is it fair to believe they’re all stoners & slackers? Sure, maybe the kid sleeping is a slacker, or maybe he's tired 'cause he was up studying late. What about the girls with the watercolor paintings? Are they slackers, and, if they are over by the sink, can Jay even see enough of their paintings to know they are 'botched'?

Now, as a reader, did you think about whether he was *correct* about his assertions while reading that paragraph, or only now when I brought it up? And what about his view of the teacher, Mr. Dreschner? Do you believe Jay is right? Since Jay’s entire self-worth is tied into being an artist, do you think that’s playing into the way he sees his teacher?

Clarity: one word can land you in a heap ‘o trouble

There are many words in the English language that are wonderful, precise, and so chalk-full of implied meaning that you only need that one word, instead of five or ten, to give a line impact. 

The problem is when a strong word can imply drastically different meanings, depending on the context.

Here’s the first draft example I’m going to use from SCARLIGHT:

And that’s what I want to paint. Light on her body. Just that.

Not Kell, the person, but Kell, the object.

I’m not interested in anything else.

But if I want to paint her, first I have to make her agree to take her clothes off. To show me all her scars at once. To stand still and obedient until I’ve had my fill.

Now, I’m using several strong words to get my point across in that snippet. Unfortunately, I ended up over-compensating, and got myself into trouble.

Your impression of Jay, from that little bit, is probably that’s he’s creepy. A stalker. Possibly an abusive, predatory sociopathic criminal in the making.

Let’s look at the words I used in one line, then let’s look at the same piece of writing after it’s been edited for clarity.

To stand still and obedient until I’ve had my fill.

This bolded line is the heart of the problem.

Now, what I wanted the reader to get out of this short snippet was:

1. Jay has a very strong desire towards Kell.
2. As a painter, he’s looking at her as a potential model, so obviously he would want to paint her under the best conditions: good light, and her holding a pose properly/not moving.
3. Because of past baggage, he is unconsciously trying to maintain distance and only see her as a model, to the point where I wanted it to be obvious that he’s actively lying to himself.

That’s a lot to pack into 64 words, right?

Too much in fact. There are three problems with that first-draft snippet:

1. It’s too short, therefore not enough clarity/explanation, so it’s easy to leap to conclusions/misunderstand.
2. The specific word ‘obedient’ is way too strong a word. It insinuates that Jay wants total power/control over Kell, when all I really wanted to say, was that he badly wants her to be a ‘good/ideal’ model.
3. The insinuation, based on the layout of the entire bolded sentence, that Jay is not viewing Kell as a human being, that his desire matters more than what she would/could want to do. This builds on the previous lines, “Not Kell, the person, but Kell, the object.”, and blows it way out of proportion.

Now, here it is again after one edit (as in, do not consider this ‘polished’ yet). Note that I did not touch 6 out of the original 8 lines:

And that’s what I want to paint. Light on her body. Just that.

Not Kell, the person, but Kell, the object.

I’m not interested in anything else. She could be a potted plant, or a bowl of fruit. I just want her to be my model, but if I want to paint her, first I have to make her agree to take her clothes off. To show me all her scars at once. To pose under ideal lighting conditions until I’m done.

I wanted to keep the insinuation of a power-struggle, because... well, it makes sense with the characters, their backgrounds, and the fact they’re both scarred up, physically, emotionally, and psychology.

So, what did I do to try to fix? Well, first I tried to remove the possible insinuation of sexual predation by specifying, “She could be a potted plant, or a bowl of fruit.” Hopefully, that also makes it clearer that he’s intentionally trying to only look at her that way... lying to himself. Then I touched up the original middle line, added, “I just want her to be my model...” to the beginning. Finally, I completely re-wrote that troublesome ‘obedient’ line at the end, again, to make it clear this isn’t about holding her hostage, forcing her to do something she doesn’t want to do, de-humanizing her... he just wants her to be a ‘good model’ because he badly wants to paint her.

Now, did I accomplish those three points I was aiming for, and remove the three problems that took it too far?

(Please go ahead and tell me... I very much want to know. I know at this moment it's super repetitive sounding, which will be fixed later, but for now, it's enough if the 'bad connotation' has been removed.)

Strong words make for great writing, but you should always look at how they could be taken wrong. A potential agent, or reader, might misunderstand one word on your first page, and you’ve lost your one chance with them. Usually, it’s a word, like ‘assault’, that twists a sentence down a very dark avenue.

To take one step further, think of how many online write-ups/articles vilify authors, or certain books, simply because of a few choice lines taken out of context. I’m always struck by that during ‘Banned Book Week’, which is sometime in the autumn.

Remember: words absorb new meaning over time, but the older, less-used meanings are still lurking around in the basement, possible gnawing bone splinters and crunchy spiders.

Don’t let your words be used a weapon against you. Clarity is your friend :)