Writing is my passion. Whether I'm involved in my own work-in-progress, teaching the writing process to others, facilitating critique groups, or coaching writers on publishing, I am following my bliss." - Painting "She Writes" by Robin Wethe Altman

WHO IS THAT ARTIST?

Who is that fabulous artist who created the "She Writes" heading seen above? ROBIN WETHE ALTMAN is a prolific and well respected Laguna Beach artist. This particular painting graced an anthology of women's writings I published several years ago. I have a copy of the painting having in my house, and here it is on my blog. Robin is a remarkable artist and shows her work in galleries, salons, festivals, and yearly at the Laguna Beach Art-a-Fair.

Saturday, October 15, 2016

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.  


Sunday, October 9, 2016

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. 


Friday, October 7, 2016

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.

THAT HIDDEN NEED

Writing Should Get Personal

Each of us is the hero of our own story.  We each have a hidden need. Maybe it's fear of social situations or loving money more than family, or maybe we're simply broken-hearted and need to get over it.

This hidden need hurts us, and it also hurts people around us. In order to resolve this hidden need, we must take action. Action causes conflict, and conflict is what makes story. There is no life without conflict.

It's the same with story. The hidden need—goal or desire—of the protagonist sets the story in motion. This need is so important that it hurts not only the protagonist but the secondary characters as well. There is no story without conflict. It boils down to cause and effect or the domino effect. Need leads to action. Action leads to conflict.

Consider Romeo and Juliet. Romeo is lovesick, in love with love. Spurned by one lovely girl, he catches sight of another, Juliet, and falls head over heels. She's the sun. He must have her; his ardent pleas arouse her interest and soon she must have him as well. Too bad they're from families who despise each other. Bad news, right? Wrong. It's good news for plot development. The more conflict the better. Too bad everyone around has to hear about this star-crossed romance. Too bad they also have to suffer and there's danger, death, hand-wringing, decision making, and tears, lots of tears.

Bad news, right? Wrong.

And in the end they both die. No worries. It's all so self-sacrificing and romantic and that's all good news for story and a best seller for Shakespeare. Think about your own personal story and the hidden needs you've experienced. Perhaps some of those desires ruptured your family, created tension, destroyed relationships, caused a financial loss, ended in unbearable grief, bore terrible guilt, caused isolation, or resulted in estrangement

Face it.

We've all hurt someone, and we've all been hurt, and usually it comes from not having enough of something: love, money, status, possessions, friends, popularity, confidence, support, power, and a hundred other things. We don't have it, we want it, and we go out and get it, often hurting someone along the way. Or we don't have it, we want it, and we sit around and mope about it forever, making ourselves—and everyone else—miserable. Consider the ramifications of moving across country to a new state or the result of a divorce that splits family, friends, and kids. Everything we do in life affects those around us. I know. I've hurt people I didn't mean to hurt, and others living their own life stories have hurt me. Hurt is a personal part of life, and hurt deepens the characterizations and plot in a story.

It all begins with that hidden need.

People read books in search of universal truths. They want to know how to live their own lives. They relate most with stories that get personal.

Dig into your own life story to come up with ideas for fiction. Ask your protagonist what he or she really wants in life and must have at all costs.

Revelation is what brings characters to life. Revelation is what brings a memoir alive. When we write from a deep point of view, the story takes on a whole new dynamic. Whether it's fiction or memoir, get personal. Your readers will be grateful.




Thursday, October 6, 2016

STORIES COME FROM LIFE


Some of the best stories come from real life because they are dense and compelling .That's why readers like memoir as well as fiction that allows them to identify with the protagonist or point of view (POV) narrator.

When I lived in tiny Arctic Iñupiat villages without plumbing or roads or any modern conveniences, I acquired a lot of first hand experiences I included in my books I AM THE ICE WORM, DOG WOMAN, ALONE IN THE ICE WORLD, and FINDING JADE MOUNTAIN.

Fishing commercially for salmon along the California coast aboard a 55' sailing schooner led to BELLY UP. My sailboat Bobolink became the sailboat in the story and my experiences with sharks, whales, freighters and trying to catch fish in terrible weather gave me the nuts and bolts I needed to give the story verisimilitude.

I taught eighth grade on a USMC base and former students who have read WARRIOR'S DAUGHTER say it's like "reliving eighth grade all over again."

Both KNUCKLE DOWN and LOOKING OUT FOR LINDY come from growing up on the Los Angeles homefront during World War II. My dad's liberty ship SS Peter Silvester was torpedoed by a German submarine in the Indian Ocean and the facts about that incident are absolutely true.

A FEW SCREWS LOOSE has truths about friendship and mental illness. And my most recent novel CHANGED IN THE NIGHT deals with psychological issues connected with loss within a context of sci-fi/fantasy.

The most important element of story is truth, and truth comes from reaching into those deep and sometimes brutal feelings. Readers tune in to that truth at a level they might not understand. All they know is they've been there and done that and can relate to the story's narrator.

As writers, we need to excavate human emotions even if it hurts to face our own guilt, fears, and hopes. We need to somehow get those feelings onto the page for the reader no matter what genre we are working in.

How do we get story? The hard way; we dig up a rough draft like clay and slap it down on paper. Then we mold that sloppy mess and shape it and tweak it and revise it a hundred times. We put our heart and soul into it so there are universal truths based on who we are, what we know, experiences we've had, and life lessons we've learned.

Readers read books to discover how to lead their own lives.

Where do stories come from? They come from ourselves; we need to dig deep.

This book came out of my real life experience
of living in the Arctic Bush.
I AM THE ICE WORM


Journaling helps separate backstory from story and my adult writing students sometimes have a big problem doing this. I have trouble myself and have to cut out great amounts of writing because I sometimes get in my own way. 

TURN UP THE HEAT

cru·ci·ble: 1) a ceramic or metal container in which metals or other substances may be melted or subjected to very high temperature; 2) a place or occasion of severe test or trial; 3) a place or situation in which different elements interact to produce something new.

When a plot sickens rather than thickens, the cure can a device called the "crucible," a container, place, or situation able to withstand very high temperatures and in which something new is produced.

Put your protagonist and antagonist into a crucible and the plot catches fire. A lifeboat, for instance, is a good crucible. No one can get out of the lifeboat without drowning at sea. Toss in some immense waves, a brewing storm, and a time-sensitive matter, and the crisis builds.

In my most recent novel, CHANGED IN THE NIGHT, sixteen-year-old Allana Odette Blair finds herself in more than one crucible, a mental facility at the beginning of Act II, an ice cave later on, and as an abductee by aliens.

When people are stuck in a confining place or situation and can't escape, they are in a crucible. Put two characters opposed to one another into a steel box—your protagonist and antagonist, for example—and the story may just write itself.

Films use this device quite often. In MISERY, for example, when an obsessed fan holds a famous romance novelist hostage by breaking his legs, the backwoods cabin becomes the container or crucible.

An isolated mountain resort is the crucible in THE SHINING after an unstable writer and family become off-season caretakers. A kitchen can be a crucible, marriage can be a crucible, a job can be a crucible, a downed plane can be a crucible, a sinking ship can be a crucible. Two passionate lovers may find themselves trapped in a crucible as their relationship dissolves.

A crucible is a container, place, or situation that can withstand very high temperatures, so turn up the heat and see what happens. Most likely, the something new produced will be a more gripping plot twist as characters reveal themselves under pressure.

And a heightened crisis makes far more interesting reading.