Taking Inspiration from Nature

I had the privilege of walking into nature over the weekend.  I saw Yellowstone National Park.  I viewed colors, vivid colors I have never seen elsewhere in nature: blues, rusts, greens, aquamarines, yellows... sights, sounds, and odors I never smell anywhere else from the smell of evergreen to sulfurous mist blowing in my face.  When walking through such natural beauty, there are many ways to view it all.  Some of the people I traveled with found these unique natural vistas exciting to begin with but then dull and familiar after a time.  Some people view such things as an opening to adventure, a place to hike and take risks.

  

As a writer, I could see it as something else again: a source of material, a muse.  The vivid colors could spin my thoughts into a world of vivid intensity, a magical portal into a place of imagination.  As water explodes into the air, I could turn that geyser into a water dragon and that one nearby into a wizard bent on taking that dragon down.  Or as I look at the twisted, tortured trees that fought their way through the harsh environment to grow out of rock then failed and fell when the sulfurous blasts got too toxic, I could envision a landscape like that and ponder what else could cause it, some malaise or curse upon the land.  The wild titles of those geysers and pools could spin my thoughts with red dragons' maws and churning cauldrons.

If my style tends toward the less fantastical, I could still imagine a couple meeting among the geysers and finding love.  The couple who got engaged to the blast of Old Faithful while I was there could inspire a tale of love and tragedy among the geysers.

If my imagination suits the world of science fiction more, I could envision a fleet of aliens that start their invasion over a field of geysers and on shaky ground, only to meet misfortune on every side as one ends up in a hot pot, another crashes through the crust, and yet another is gored by a moody bison.  That invasion could be defeated not by men with technology but by mother nature herself.

Or I could write a western in which a mountain man or early settler and his family faces the unknown perils of a side of nature never before seen by their people.  I could write about a Native American tribe's relationship to the park itself, including one brave's voyage of self-discovery.  I could write poetry about the intense feeling of looking straight into the eyes of a nearby bull elk or engage in nature writing about my experiences with the park.

Or I could blog about how the park fills the imagination and invite other writers to go out and seek their own adventures in nature that could act as their muse in their writing.  See the world of nature in a fresh way.  Make it new.

Back Story

There are some important things to remember about back story when writing about a character.  Number one is to have it, in a lot more detail than you're ever going to share with your reader.  It's always a good idea to know not just this generation but the parents, possibly even grandparents, uncles, cousins, etc. because you want to know what makes this character him/herself.  One of these characters may be important in your story or its prequel...or you may just want to know this for yourself.  What tragedies form your character?  What makes your character tick?  Know this.  Plot it out in some detail.

But don't share it in detail.  The last thing you want to do is data dump within the first chapter.  Sneak it into conversation.  Use it as a source for drama.  Show it as much as it can be shown.  Turn it into meaning rather than a three-page filler when you can't think of anything else to do.  Most people have to do some data sharing to get the reader up to snuff, but the less tell about the past you have to share as a narrator, the better.  If you're going to share this as a narrator, try making the narrator unreliable.  I'm telling you this, but I'm also the catty next door neighbor or the hated boss.  Can I be trusted?  Find a way to turn background into meaning and drama rather than filler, and your reader will thank you.

Texts and subtexts

Text and Subtext

Sometimes, a spade is just a spade.  Sometimes, when you're writing about a blue rug, it's just a blue rug.  Others may read into your blue rug: depression, sadness, water, nature, whatever.  But sometimes, you just want to write about the rug.

However, when you want meaning beyond the surface description, it's important to keep in mind what the point or motivation is at all times.  What are you trying to show through your rugs and spades?  Say you want meaning to come through in dialogue.  Sometimes, dialogue is just dialogue.  A character says something, and another responds to move the plot along or show character.

However, sometimes, it's better yet if two characters can SEEM to talk about one thing and yet be really talking about something entirely different under the surface.  Say two characters are talking about whether to get a dog.  On the surface level, the two characters are talking about a dog.  However, under the surface, she's really asking if they can start a family, can try to have a baby.  He blows her off because he doesn't get what she's really asking.  He just doesn't like dogs.  Or, sometimes better yet, he gets what she's saying.  He understands she's not JUST asking for a dog.  And he wants nothing to do with a baby.  It's too much commitment, too much stress, feeds into childhood trauma, etc.  This is a great way to SHOW character.

The most meaningful movies, books, and scenes show clear motivation for the character.  One of the truly sophisticated ways to show clear motivation is by having two characters talk about it or, sometimes, talk about it WITHOUT SEEMING to talk about it.  We start to walk the realm of symbolism and deeper meaning, something great literature often does.

Now go back to that piece of dialogue that is sitting like a rock on the page.  Is it not working because it's too obvious?  Try using context and sneaky language to hint at motivations and meaning.  Best of luck.

Exercising the Senses

Someone recently asked me how to enhance sensory detail in their writing.  A writer doesn't want to bog down every scene with so much sensory detail that the narrative slows to a snail's pace, yet writing must have some kind of sensory detail to keep it interesting, fresh, and engaging.  So where is the balance?  How does one write enough detail but not too much?

I'd recommend pausing over the scenes that are the most significant, the scenes that the author wants to be most memorable and meaningful.  Then, count to five for all five senses.  Vision is easy.  But if you want a scene to be truly memorable, make sure you also feature something you can taste, touch, smell, and hear.  It may even help you to close your eyes in various places--at a park, in your room, in a library, in a classroom--and just write down everything you sense besides sight just to work on focusing on anything and everything but the visual.

When you sit down to write your piece, if you want a pleasant moment, have us smell melon body wash, taste freshly baked bread, feel the soft grass under the character's feet, see the vibrant colors of the flowers across the grass, hear the wind through the trees, etc.  Help us live that significant moment.  If it's a scary moment, we can smell our own sweat, feel the chilling breeze across that sweat on our skin, hear the eerie sounds of rattling wind through the branches, etc.  Create the atmosphere, just enough that we can experience it along with the character but not so much that we get bored.  Read it with someone else just to be sure.

And remember, the same hair color, eye color, etc can be described with very different words for just the right connotation.  The same color can be called golden, medium blonde, bronze, dishwater, muddy, etc. all depending on how you want the reader to feel about that character.  It's all in the sensory language.  I've heard it said that when you're describing a character, it's often best to minimize, to describe one or two primary features and leave the rest to the reader's imagination.

So that's it.  Mark the significant moments in your plot or characters you want us to remember and count to five.  If you can turn that moment or that sensory imagery into symbolism or metaphor or foreshadowing or alliteration, all the better.  Have fun!

Drafting and Revision

Drafting

In the movie "Finding Forrester," a writer's movie, a character says that the first draft should be written with the heart and the second with the head.  For most people, it's not very helpful to sit down and write without any idea what I'm doing.

There are different styles of drafting.  I'm what's often referred to as a "pantser."  I fly by the seat of my pants.  I just need my characters and an inkling of where the plot is going, and I just start writing.  With my romance novels, I don't even write chronologically, whereas with my children's fantasy, I do.  Either way, I don't plan much before I write.  Meanwhile, some people need an elaborate outline and all details planned before they would dream of writing.  These are often called planners. As for me, if I tried to plan everything in detail, I'd never get anywhere.  Outlines just don't work for me.  I need a rough idea where I'm going and a clear view of my characters then I just write.

Regardless of the way one writes, this advice from "Finding Forrester" can be a guide.  When one writes the first draft without spending a lot of time editing, revising, or rethinking everything, more progress is likely to be made.  Those who get bogged down with the details and with rewriting everything over and over again, researching every twist and turn, and belaboring every detail will likely get nowhere in their writing.  There are things that need to be researched in advance, but most things can wait.  The way I understand how the writers of the "Star Trek" series did it, they'd type along and write [tech] anytime they got to a piece of story that needed technology, then they or someone else would go back in and research the technology needed.  A writer can use this method by writing along according to outline or general idea then write [MORE ABOUT THIS] or some such then go in to fill in whatever is missing later.  It's really best if an author uses the momentum built and finishes that draft before ever letting the internal editor or researcher have a chance to walk through the door.

Revision

The next step after the heart/rough draft is written is to revise.  But if one revises right away, when everything is fresh, every cut hurts.  It all feels too personal.  To write the first draft, the author has poured out his/her heart and soul onto the page.  The characters, sometimes even the minor ones, are his or her babies.  He/she has spent HOURS on short scenes that feel important or at least special somehow.

After the draft has lain fallow for as long as the writer can manage, it is time to return and see it with fresher eyes.  It is time to figure out which scenes advance character and/or plot and which ones are just fluff.  It is time to take an axe to those scenes that are precious [overwritten] but not important.  With a bit of distance, one can also achieve a bit more distance as well as impartiality.  I wrote a short story during my undergraduate years, over a decade ago, about which I felt particularly proud.  I recently reviewed it and realized so much of it was inessential.  It went from around 3000 words to about half that.  It is so much better for the cuta I once didn't think needed to happen.  Reading aloud always helps as well.  It slows down the eye and helps the writer catch errors that otherwise would be missed. It's always best as well if the author can find several pair of external eyes to look over the manuscript and give feedback.  Polishing takes as much distance, chronologically as well as emotionally, as one can muster.

In other words, throw yourself into draft one.  Let it carry you either through your outline or in crazy directions if you're a pantser.  But then let Mr. Editor/Researcher/Detail-oriented in and turn it into something a publisher could accept and a reader could enjoy.  Best of luck.

The Powers Game

A few weeks ago, I proposed the McDonald's game.  If you know enough about your character or characters, you can say what your character would order at McDonald's whether or not there is one around.  This week, I came up with a different game: the Powers Game.  Most authors could [or should be able to] answer the question, "What does my character want most in the world?"  In "Finding Nemo," the whole story is driven by Marlin's desire to be reunited with his son.  In "Finding Dory," likewise, the story is driven by Dory's desire to be reunited with her parents.  If you can't name the greatest desire of your character, that's important.  It shouldn't be part of a game but part of characterization to begin with.

So what is the game?  Imagine your character can have any power in the world (or can get rid of a power he has but does not want.)  What would it be?  Marlin may want the ability to track his son from anywhere, so he could never lose him again or possibly to put a bubble around his son, so his son could never get hurt.  Dory would want the simple power to remember what happened five minutes ago, or even yesterday.  At some point in "Incredibles," many of the characters would like to wish away the power they do have to simplify their lives.  In a similar fashion, one could go through most characters in Pixar movies and decide what powers the characters would like (or get rid of) based on their particular desires and drives.

Now, go through your characters and figure out what magical/super/technological power your character would want if he/she could do anything in the world.    If you can't answer that question, you may need to work a little more on what drives your character to do what he/she does.

Hero of Your Own Story

Villain's Motivation

In reality, everyone is the hero of his or her own story.  Everyone [almost] thinks they are doing what's best, even if others would say they are doing what they're doing for the wrong reasons.  That's why a truly interesting story has a villain/opponent/rival who has clear motivation, who is, according to his/her own narrative, the hero of the story.

Take Magneto, for instance.  According to Magneto, the villain of many of the X-Men movies, humans have destroyed the world and are endangering his people.  In the first X-Men movie, humans' treatment of mutants is paralleled with Nazis' treatment of Jewish people.

Let's expand our net to history and legend: Al Capone thought of himself as a provider of useful services, while the media vilified him for his mob-related killings and bootlegging.  The same could be said of Jessie James, who some saw as a folk hero while others viewed him as nothing more than a bank robber and a murderer.  From the point of view of the Sheriff of Nottingham, Robin Hood could be seen as the villain.

Wrong Way

Just as a story is better when the hero's motivation is clear, a story is also better when the villain's motivation is clear.  In many a melodramatic tale, villains delight in calling themselves a villain and fight the good guy simply because he's good while the villain is bad.  No more motivation than that is needed.

Early Disney movies provide a very simple motivation--Snow White's stepmother's vanity, Cinderella's stepmother's jealousy on behalf of her daughters, and Maleficent's desire to fulfill the curse she'd lain. Yes, these can be called some kind of motive, but why?  Why are the stepmothers and evil fairies so harsh, they'll cause death before letting the princess marry the prince?  What led them to sacrifice their lives and reputations to oppress or murder an innocent?  None of it is clear.  One supposes they do it because they're evil, but this is no kind of clear reasoning or motivation.  Why are these female characters evil?  Nobody knows.

Right Way

We understand that Magneto is willing to destroy humanity because they stole his family away and are trying to oppress his people.  Why do we know that?  Because he has a back story.  We see his childhood--not a lot but enough to know why he does what he does.  We can feel and understand WHY.

When we understand why, the character becomes real to us.  We understand that Kylo Ren is willing to fight the light side of the force and kill anyone who gets in his way because of his resentment toward his father and because he adopted a new father figure in his grandfather, Darth Vader.

Furthermore, we understand that Mother Gothel must keep Rapunzel isolated in "Tangled" because she will lose her youth and her life if she loses the source of her power.  Their motivation is clear. Back story makes the difference between a believable villain and a stereotypical Bad Guy who is bad because he's bad.

Caveat 

However, because we don't agree with his motivations, he remains a villain, the enemy.  That is the one caution here, that there is such a thing as having a villain become too sympathetic. If your villain is more sympathetic than your hero, you have the new problem of the audience being confused by your story.  This confusion can be useful when you flip the story around and tell the story from the villain's point of view, as mentioned in last week's blog.  But in general, that confusion is to be avoided.

Conclusion

If your villain is supposed to remain on the dark side, make sure that your hero has a more vivid and sympathetic back story than the villain.  Help us view the villain as understandable but not the one for whom we're rooting.  Best of luck on your villains.