BLAME IT ON BATY

BLAME IT ON BATY & HIS KICK-ASS OPTIMISM

You can blame it on Chris Baty. He'll encourage you to get 50,000 words down on paper in 30 days. You'll wind up with a really rough, poorly written draft novel. If you do that much, its something other writers only dream about.

Chris Baty founded NaNoWriMo (National Writing Novel Month) in 1999. This November marathon that began with 21 people working on laptops in a San Francisco coffee shop now attracts over 300,000 onlne participants each fall.

"The world is a lot more fun when you approach it with an exuberant imperfection," Chris Baty says.

And you just might have a blast. Whether you sign up online at the NaNoWriMo site or simply decide to do it on your own, it's worth the trouble. Not only did i manage to get my 1,500-2,000 words written each day in past Novembers, I got  really into this endeavor and was motivated to continue.

Baty says, "I found myself realizing that the thing separating people from their artistic dreams is not a lack of talent, it’s a lack of deadline and structure."

And it's having a deadline and some structure that makes it work for those of us who put off doing the inevitable: getting that rough draft down on paper.

"A deadline is, simply put, optimism in its most kick-ass form," Baty says. "It's a potent force that, when wielded with respect, will level any obstacle in its path. This is especially true when it comes to creative pursuits.”

Anne Lamott, author of the seminal, Bird by Bird, encourages us to go ahead and write shitty first drafts and not expect perfect writing to simply flow out right away, but we must write regularly whether we feel like it or not and whether we think what we're writing is any good or not.

It doesn't matter. We are writers and so we must write.

When we get stuck, we must work on our elevator pitch or develop our theme or incite change.

Chris Baty, author of No Plot? No Problem,  says, "Incite change. If your story is losing momentum, juice it up by inflicting some major changes on your characters. Crash the spaceship. End the marriage. Buy the monkey. Change is scary because we have to figure out what comes next. But feeling afraid is ten times better than feeling bored, and your book will benefit from your risk-taking."

So whether you officially sign up or simply try it on your own, I suggest following Chris Baty's advice: We’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do this quickly, and it’s gonna be bad.

A couple hours a day is doable. My best friend trained for marathons, putting in at least ten or twelve hours a week. We waste a lot of time, puttering around, sorting the mail, checking social networking, watching the recap of the news, dusting shelves, and all that time can be used for writing.

We have to carve out time. Years ago, when I was raising four kids, working on a graduate degree, participating in organizations, and teaching full time, I still found time to write in the hours while everyone else was sleeping.

We have to carve out space. It's possible to write anywhere. I've written in closets, on rocking boats, in pantries, bathrooms, cars, garages, parks, patios, trains, and airplanes.

We must ignore the inner critic and write fast. It's much more efficient that way.  No matter how bad the writing, we have to keep going because even a small amount of progress each day is motivational.

Besides that inner critic and our perfectionism, we have to let some things go, to say "no" and feel okay about it, and develop some habits that allow us time to write. A writing instructor once told me that dust bunnies under the bed and dishes in the sink prove whether or not someone is serious about being a writer. It's all a matter of priorities.

STRUCTURING YOUR STORY

My memoir is my story, not my brother's; he has his own story.

Story structure is similar in memoir and fiction. Each has a beginning, middle, and end. Each has a main character or protagonist, an internal and external journey, a story arc and character arc and a theme. While fiction is a made-up story, a memoir is a story that has been lived and that means the author knows the outcome. 

Once you narrow all your turning points and figured out where they occurred in your timeline, you can decide how to tell your story. It might work well told chronologically, if it's  coming f age story or a story of psychological healing. 


Often a linear chronological structure—point A to Point B—is the easiest and best way to tell your story. A coming of age memoir works well with a linear structure; so does a memoir showing ychological development and transformation. 

On the other hand, a braided memoir that weaves back and forth from present and past in alternating chapters might work best. In a framed memoir, like Wild by Cheryl Stayed, the main story is on the trail while the author picks up threads from the past and weaves them in through flashbacks. A wrapper story also works well when a narrator tells the story to others. By developing the narrator as a visible presence in the memoir, you help the reader gracefully move back and forth between the time frame of the person writing the book and the time frame of the character who lived through the earlier events. In Colored People, Henry Louis Gates tells his children about the old days in order to help them understand where their ancestors have been. In Tony Cohan’s memoir Native State, his father lies dying, and while he is stuck in California, he reminisces about his childhood and about his experience as an expat in North Africa. 


Travel can be used as a wrapper story.  Such memoirs are used as containers in which the author spends so much time exploring the past, or reminiscing about it, you begin to wonder if the story is about the journey or the memories. This dual use of a travel memoir, as both a story of a journey and a wrapper story of a previous time, is especially noteworthy in: Zen and Now by Mark Richardson: As the author follows the path of Robert Pirsig’s original motorcycle ride, there is plenty of time for reflection about his past. The travel memoir as a wrapper story introduces the potential for telling a story in two time frames at once.

Another technique jumps all the way into the two-frame concept and weaves two parallel stories, one from earlier in life and one later. These authors have managed to start the story right in the thick of it, and then go back to give the backstory without diffusing the power of the book.  


Once you have a general idea of your theme or themes and know how you want to structure your story, you will have a better idea of what to include and what to leave out. There will be a lot of wonderful stuff you won't want to cut out. Save it for a personal essay or memoir piece for a magazine. What goes into your important memoir must be what moves your story forward. 

One looming question when writing memoir is What about my family? Your memoir is your story and no one else's. You are unique in the universe and your story is unique. Your story belongs to you; your brother's story belongs to him. We each have the right to tell our own story from our own point of view.

It’s clear that writing a memoir is indeed a process—challenging but rewarding! It takes time to sort things out, but every time you make lists, brainstorm, and research how other authors have solved these problems by reading memoirs, you are figuring out the challenges of writing, and creating skills that help you write a successful book that will be meaningful to others.

WHAT FICTION WRITERS CAN LEARN FROM THE MOVIES

Our Writer's Critique Circle has been fortunate to have a screenwriter in our midst for quite awhile. During critique  we're assigned parts, and we read from the work-in-progress. Reading a scene aloud can be quite revealing. We're aware when dialogue is too wordy or out of character or off the mark. We sense when a scene "nails it" or when it comes across DOA.  And we have a heightened awareness of the overall rhythm and beats in a scene. 

Besides reading scenes from fiction aloud to test if we're on the right track, screenwriting techniques offer other ways to make our work better.

What do screenwriters do that the rest of us ought to do?

1) SCREENWRITERS DON'T WASTE TIME GETTING INTO THE STORY. Since we live in a world of sound bites, text messages, IM, and emoticons, our readers don't have the patience to open a book, much less concentrate for long. Therefore, we need to take this attention deficit disorder into account by making sure there's an emotional connection right from the beginning.

2) SCREENWRITERS START SCRIPTS OFF RIGHT. As novel writers, we must revise the first ten pages over and over and over again. Revision is the only way to get it right. The opening hook is all important. The first few pages of as book can make or break us.

3) SCREENWRITERS CREATE MEMORABLE HEROES AND VILLAINS. We need to make the protagonist in our story a fully rounded character and know that fictional person as well as we know ourselves. This is especially true if the protagonist is the POV narrator.

4) SCREENWRITERS WRITE ECONOMICALLY. Every line in a screenplay moves the story forward. As novel writers, we must make sure every scene is there for a reason and not overwrite. We must delete, kill our "darlings," get rid of "on the nose" dialogue, and cut lots of backstory. Be like Hemingway. Delete!

5) SCREENWRITERS CREATE GREAT DIALOGUE. We need to make sure every character in our story has a unique voice. Dialogue shout reveal character and also move the story forward. Dialogue reveals character and moves the story forward.

5) SCREENWRITERS KNOW THEIR AUDIENCE As novel writers we need to analyze our readership, the genre we're writing in, and the type of readers we want to attract. Choosing a few Beta readers from this group is helpful during revision.

6) SCREENWRITERS UNDERSTAND THE THREE-ACT STRUCTURE. Novel writers can benefit by having a grasp on story structure. By page ten, readers want to be introduced to your hero, know what he or she wants, and feel comfortable in the genre of the story. 

By the end of Act One, readers should have an idea where the story is headed, what the stakes are, and the obstacles preventing the hero from achieving that goal. By the middle of Act Two, readers expect the stakes to be raised, a new character introduced ,or a more difficult obstacle.  

By the end of Act Two, readers predict your hero will be in terrible trouble, backed into a corner, thrown into a crucible, or caught in the midst of some inescapable situation, so that the tension builds. In Act Three, readers see the hero to create a new plan or  escape an impossible situation, and this leads to the big satisfying ending.

7) SCREENWRITERS ARE AWARE OF THEME  Not only are they aware of theme, they keep it consistent throughout the script.  

Theme is a tough nut to crack. When I ask my students the theme of Die Hard, they often restate the film's core concept (or, in Hollywood terms, the "logline"), saying something like, "It's about a cop thwarting a group of international terrorists while saving his wife and a bunch of innocent people." While this is true, it doesn't quite touch on theme. 

If we dig deeper, we discover that Die Hard is really about a man trying to reconnect with his wife. True, this reconnection takes place amidst the backdrop of an action-packed heist, but at its core, this is a story about John McClane discovering the importance of family and the love and appreciation he has for his wife, Holly.

8) SCREENWRITERS KEEP UP WITH THE CRAFT. They watch and re-watch successful movies that are similar. Audiences want the same, but different. In order to deliver, screenwriters must know the competition and what's out there. As fiction writers, we have an advantage if we're readers, reading successful books similar to our own. 

9) SCREENWRITERS KNOW THEIR CHARACTERS. They know what the hero wants, the goal, and what will happen if he doesn't get what he wants (the stakes). They also know what or who is preventing him from reaching that goal (the antagonist or villain). They know how their characters look, talk, act, think. They know the backstory of their characters and know how they will react in situations that occur in the story. 

10) SCREENWRITERS LEAVE THE AUDIENCE WANTING MORE. And we should too. JK Rowling certainly did it wit her Harry Potter series and the scripts that followed her novels did the same thing. 

How do they do that? Screenwriters create a memorable script with a climactic ending that's satisfying to the audience. The ending is fulfilling, the central problem is resolved, an important character trait is revealed and/or tested, and there's a satisfying surprise toward the end. They create an "aha" moment that makes audiences connect with character and story.

One more thing. They find their tribe. They brainstorm and play with "what if" scenarios. They allow others to offer input and take credit. They often work in a team, ask for help, and they get the job done. All too often, authors are working in isolation and are reluctant to show their work, fearing either rejection or theft.

Let's follow the example of screenwriters, learn from them, and get our job done too.  

SHOW, DON'T TELL

SHOW, DON'T TELL—almost a cliché

You've heard it over and over. Yeah, yeah, I know, and here it is again. Why? It's important. SHOWING is dramatic and makes readers feel in the moment with the character and the action.

TELLING is perfectly acceptable, useful for exposition, a way to cover ground as a narrator, and a way to offer information. TELLING, however, is hearing something secondhand. It describes the situation rather than the story. Readers become observers rather than participants.

On the other hand, SHOWING makes the story come alive and brings readers into a scene. Specific details, action verbs, good dialogue and active voice can dramatically improve your work-in-progress.

Anton Chekov's well-known quote says it all: "Don't tell me the moon is shining. Show me the glint of light on broken glass."

SHOWING is accomplished through specific and sensory details—the smells and sounds and tastes, the way something feels and how something looks. Readers want to smell the burning wood in the fireplace, hear the wind outside the window, feel the lake water, see the orange sunset on the horizon and taste that bite of fresh broiled salmon.

CONCRETE nouns and ACTION verbs also contribute to showing. Change "tree' to "oak" or "elm" or "pine" and readers will have a clearer sense of the scene. By analyzing verbs during revision, you might discover way too many passive verbs. Perhaps more active verbs will heighten the physical and emotional story action. Instead of "he walked into the house" something like "he sauntered into the house" or "he raced into the house" might fit that story moment better.

DIALOGUE is a good way to show and move the story forward because dialogue is action. Characters are speaking and interacting. Authors, however, must make dialogue count. Readers don't want meaningless dialogue. None of that "How are you?" sort of talk.  Dialogue can reveal much about the characters—the way they hesitate or avoid an issue, the way they change the subject or gossip.

John Gardner says, "It's by being convincing in the reality and detail of how we evoke our imagined world— by what the characters do and say—that we persuade the reader to read the story we're telling as if it really happened, even though we all know it didn't."

THE RIGHT STUFF

Writing is hard work.

After 12 books published and a dozen more mediocre attempts loitering in storage boxes or floppy discs somewhere, I think the key to achieving our goals as writers might be simpler than we think. I have to remind myself during my final revisions on Changed in the Night that it's not supposed to be easy. It never was before, after all, and this one is complicated beyond belief.

Authors who succeed have one trait above all else: TRUE GRIT.

GRIT is perseverance and passion for long-term goals. While ability is extremely important, GRIT is the characteristic of high-achieving individuals that sets them apart. Such individuals are able to maintain their determination and motivation over extended periods of time in spite of adversity and failure. These writers are committed over the long haul and are passionate enough to maintain the course until the goal is reached in spite of setbacks and challenges.

GRIT is being resilient in spite of rejection, negative feedback, and less than glowing critiques. GRIT is persevering through the "shitty first draft" and then the following draft and the dozen or so drafts after that. Having GRIT helps us do good work.

Examples of GRIT that inspire me:

Carrie by Stephen King got thrown into the trash after 30 rejections, but King's wife rescued the manuscript and it went out again to become a classic in the horror genre.

Dune by Frank Herbert got turned down 33 times before becoming a popular science fiction novel.

 Chicken Soup for the Soul by Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen got turned down 140 times before becoming a multi-million dollar bestseller.

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Pirsig was rejected 121 times before it found fans as a much sought after book for its many life lessons.

Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell was rejected 38 times before it wound up in print and then a must-see movie with a gritty heroine named Scarlett O'Hara.

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L'Engle collected 26 rejections before becoming a best-selling children's book.

Those are only some of the stories that help me stay the course. Without GRIT we don't win the marathon or circumnavigate the earth or write a great novel. When we get bogged down and want to chuck it all and simply clean out the closet, it helps to remember that perseverance pays off. 

LITERARY ELEMENTS

Below is a list of LITERARY ELEMENTS  or the parts of a story. When you examine your work for critique or presentation, ask the following questions based on the important literary elements in your story.

THEME

The story's ideas? Author's attitude towards those ideas? Author's "statement" about those ideas? The story's message or main point? Your attitude?

CONFLICT:

What people/forces/ideas/interests/values/institutions oppose each other? What decisions must the characters make? Between what two things is he/she deciding? What do these things represent?

CHARACTERIZATION:

What kinds of person or people are the character(s)? What are their beliefs, hopes, dreams, ideals, values, morals, fears, strengths, weaknesses, vices, virtues, talents, etc.? How do they conduct themselves? What do they say and do to reveal themselves? What do others say and do about the? What are your opinions or feelings about them? Classifications of types of characters include: protagonist, antagonist, foil, stereotype, flat, round, static, dynamic.

SYMBOLISM:

What concrete, specific objects have been used to represent abstract ideas? What colors, names, settings, recurring objects have been referred to? What ideas do these represent?

SETTING:

Setting refers to TIME and PLACE: Time: of day, year, era/age? Place: city, country? Outside, inside? Rich and opulent or poor and simple? Stark and barren landscape? Rainy or sunny? Beautiful or adversarial? Dark or light? Dangerous or safe? The weather? how does all this affect meaning? What feelings (atmosphere) are evoked just by the setting?

STYLE:

The way the writer chooses to arrange his sentence structure (syntax) as well as the words (diction) he chooses. What is the overall effect of the way he writes? Simple, involved, poetic, colloquial, humorous, pedantic, child-like? How does it contribute to the author’s message and the overall effect the author wishes to create?

TONE:

The author’s attitude towards what (s)he is writing that translates into your attitude: or - what is the feeling of the whole work and the writing/artist's craft? Joyful? Melancholy? Fatalistic? Angry? Peaceful? Scary? Mysterious? 

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE:
What kinds of comparisons are made that add layers to the meaning of the poem or story?
         
• A metaphor is a direct comparison: my love is a rose, or he was a snake.
• A simile is indirect, mediated by "like" or "as": my love is like a rose, or he was
as mean as a snake.

• Allusion is a reference to another literary or artistic work or cultural icon/event.