Showing posts with label planning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label planning. Show all posts

Thursday, October 19

Creating characters can at times become a self-indulgent exercise in which a writer spends inordinate amounts of time determining lots of little details that never show up in the story, and actually have very little bearing on it, like their build, favorite color, or the teacher they hated most in seventh grade. It's not that details don't matter, but beware of falling down the rabbit hole of needing to know all your fictional characters better than your friends or family. Because this can be an excuse, like "research" can, of delaying the real writing process.

So I humbly submit to you some key areas you DO really need to know, so that you can focus your character creation efforts on what will yield the most dividends.

 1. Role


Will this person be the protagonist? One of the key narrators? The villain? A love interest? A sidekick? A lesser force of antagonism? A foil? A parallel figure? A supporting character? A tertiary figure to enhance the milieu? A functionary?

How detailed you need to be depends entirely on how important the figure is to the story. Sometimes when you're drafting you don't necessarily know whether a character you need for this scene will become more important later. That's okay. Just don't pressure yourself to make every figure fully fledged from the get-go. You might find that narrative tasks can be reassigned to a more essential character and this shopkeeper or random coworker can be eliminated. Those decisions will be loads easier to make if you didn't spend a week on Pinterest deciding how to furnish his apartment or fill her closet.

In THIS post, I discuss three levels of characters most novels need: primary, secondary, and tertiary.

2. Relationship to the protagonist


How much will your hero rub elbows with particular characters? Is their relationship positive, negative, mixed, neutral, or nonexistent?

Is the relationship hierarchical, equitable/intimate, or a mix? That will very much set the tone for how the character interacts, and what methods he or she uses to negotiate conflict with your hero. I discuss this idea more HERE.

3. Goals over the course of the story


Clearly your protagonist will have goals, but what about the other characters? If all they ever do is react to the hero, they will feel as mechanical as a motion-activated self-flushing toilet. Every character has to be pursuing some goal of their own, even the tertiary characters.

You'll have a very different scene when a store clerk's goal is to win Employee of the Month, versus take a smoke break ASAP, versus share their faith with every customer.  Interacting with any of these three clerks could be useful for pacing, dropping in clues, or revealing something about your protagonist. (If they're not, maybe you don't need the scene at all.)

Primary and secondary characters especially need things to do and places to be when they aren't interacting with your hero. They need relationships, worries, plans of their own. This not only makes them more real, but also opens up great possibilities for plot complications. Obviously, you won't dramatize all these side-stories, but they should leave traces that appear in details your sprinkle in.

I talk more HERE about this "life outside the story"--and how to leave traces of it in your novel.

4. Relationship to conflict


Will this character act or withdraw when trouble comes? In other words, is their usual mode fight or flight in the face of danger?

And how about in relational conflict? If they are fighters, how does it come out? As aggression, as guilt-inducing martyr talk, as verbal abuse, as self-hatred, as gaslighting and manipulation? There are so very many ways to fight.

If they tend to flee, how do they do it? Literally run away? Downplay the problem and create false peace? Bury themselves in other activities? Throw up their hands in defeat? Become passive-aggressive, refusing to respond or do much of anything?

How characters behave in places of conflict will be key to how they function if your plot, helping or hindering the protagonist with goals on the micro and macro level. Yes, even the store clerk.

5. One key distinctive


Even tertiary characters need at least one thing about them that makes them distinct from others in the story. It could be a physical trait, like their stature, physique, or way of carrying themselves. It could be their manner of speaking in terms of volume, word choices, dialect. It could be some action that sets them apart: the super-strong granny, the puzzle whiz, the empath who mirrors others' emotions.

The key is to choose a variety of traits across your entire cast. It shouldn't be all physical, all dialect, or all superhero skills that differentiate your characters. A really solid cast will have a numerous types of roles and kinds of people that add to the setting and to the plot.


Notice some things you DON'T need to know about every character: their name, physical appearance,  socio-economic status, wound, backstory, web of relationships, profession and professional knowledge, greatest fear,  proudest moment, or taste in music, clothes, or cuisine. You might need these things for some of the characters, but not all. 

Do you struggle more with overdoing characterization, or not having quite enough? 
Thursday, October 19, 2017 Laurel Garver
Creating characters can at times become a self-indulgent exercise in which a writer spends inordinate amounts of time determining lots of little details that never show up in the story, and actually have very little bearing on it, like their build, favorite color, or the teacher they hated most in seventh grade. It's not that details don't matter, but beware of falling down the rabbit hole of needing to know all your fictional characters better than your friends or family. Because this can be an excuse, like "research" can, of delaying the real writing process.

So I humbly submit to you some key areas you DO really need to know, so that you can focus your character creation efforts on what will yield the most dividends.

 1. Role


Will this person be the protagonist? One of the key narrators? The villain? A love interest? A sidekick? A lesser force of antagonism? A foil? A parallel figure? A supporting character? A tertiary figure to enhance the milieu? A functionary?

How detailed you need to be depends entirely on how important the figure is to the story. Sometimes when you're drafting you don't necessarily know whether a character you need for this scene will become more important later. That's okay. Just don't pressure yourself to make every figure fully fledged from the get-go. You might find that narrative tasks can be reassigned to a more essential character and this shopkeeper or random coworker can be eliminated. Those decisions will be loads easier to make if you didn't spend a week on Pinterest deciding how to furnish his apartment or fill her closet.

In THIS post, I discuss three levels of characters most novels need: primary, secondary, and tertiary.

2. Relationship to the protagonist


How much will your hero rub elbows with particular characters? Is their relationship positive, negative, mixed, neutral, or nonexistent?

Is the relationship hierarchical, equitable/intimate, or a mix? That will very much set the tone for how the character interacts, and what methods he or she uses to negotiate conflict with your hero. I discuss this idea more HERE.

3. Goals over the course of the story


Clearly your protagonist will have goals, but what about the other characters? If all they ever do is react to the hero, they will feel as mechanical as a motion-activated self-flushing toilet. Every character has to be pursuing some goal of their own, even the tertiary characters.

You'll have a very different scene when a store clerk's goal is to win Employee of the Month, versus take a smoke break ASAP, versus share their faith with every customer.  Interacting with any of these three clerks could be useful for pacing, dropping in clues, or revealing something about your protagonist. (If they're not, maybe you don't need the scene at all.)

Primary and secondary characters especially need things to do and places to be when they aren't interacting with your hero. They need relationships, worries, plans of their own. This not only makes them more real, but also opens up great possibilities for plot complications. Obviously, you won't dramatize all these side-stories, but they should leave traces that appear in details your sprinkle in.

I talk more HERE about this "life outside the story"--and how to leave traces of it in your novel.

4. Relationship to conflict


Will this character act or withdraw when trouble comes? In other words, is their usual mode fight or flight in the face of danger?

And how about in relational conflict? If they are fighters, how does it come out? As aggression, as guilt-inducing martyr talk, as verbal abuse, as self-hatred, as gaslighting and manipulation? There are so very many ways to fight.

If they tend to flee, how do they do it? Literally run away? Downplay the problem and create false peace? Bury themselves in other activities? Throw up their hands in defeat? Become passive-aggressive, refusing to respond or do much of anything?

How characters behave in places of conflict will be key to how they function if your plot, helping or hindering the protagonist with goals on the micro and macro level. Yes, even the store clerk.

5. One key distinctive


Even tertiary characters need at least one thing about them that makes them distinct from others in the story. It could be a physical trait, like their stature, physique, or way of carrying themselves. It could be their manner of speaking in terms of volume, word choices, dialect. It could be some action that sets them apart: the super-strong granny, the puzzle whiz, the empath who mirrors others' emotions.

The key is to choose a variety of traits across your entire cast. It shouldn't be all physical, all dialect, or all superhero skills that differentiate your characters. A really solid cast will have a numerous types of roles and kinds of people that add to the setting and to the plot.


Notice some things you DON'T need to know about every character: their name, physical appearance,  socio-economic status, wound, backstory, web of relationships, profession and professional knowledge, greatest fear,  proudest moment, or taste in music, clothes, or cuisine. You might need these things for some of the characters, but not all. 

Do you struggle more with overdoing characterization, or not having quite enough? 

Thursday, March 23

Jot in its verb form means “to write something quickly.” In its noun form, it means “a very small amount.” Put them together and you have a brainstorming method that’s all about brevity and speed. You simply come up with as many ideas as you can quickly and record them.

Where you’re working may dictate how you choose to record your jots. You can keep similarly themed jots on a journal page, store them in a memo program on your phone, or put jots on individual notecards.

Jots can be a wonderful precursor to any other brainstorming technique. Jotting is especially helpful for preparing to diagram (aka mind-map), a way of visually organizing ideas.

Jotting can be approached through a macro or micro approach, depending where you are in the process of writing. Generally, early in the process, you’ll need to jot broad ideas, and later, details.

Macro-level jotting exercises

Write as many possible answers to the following questions as fast as you can

  • Who is my main character, inside and out?
  • What is this story actually about? What's the themeatic thrust? (e.g. love, risk, healing, community, maturation, etc.) 
  • What is the nature of my hero’s journey? Away from what and toward what?
  • What other kinds of characters does this story need?
  • What events might happen in this story?
  • What elements does my setting need?
  • What possible outcomes or resolutions would fit this story?
  • How can I make this story unique?
  • What might this story be about thematically?
  • What do I need to research to make this story believable?

Micro-level jotting exercises

Tackle any of the questions below, focusing on unwritten parts of the story, places where you’re stuck, or revision problems. Generate as many possible ideas as you can quickly.

Characterization

  • What are my characters' their deepest wounds, beliefs, needs and fears?
  • What are their weaknesses, vices, pet peeves, and dislikes? 
  • What are their passions, dreams, core competencies, and interests?
  • What important past experiences have shaped them?
  • What key relationships have helped and/or harmed them?
  • How do secondary characters relate to primary ones?

Dialogue

  • How does my character sound? Formal or informal? Intellectual, moderately educated, street-smart, down-home, innocent/naive, or mentally challenged?
  • What key phrases does s/he use often? What colorful slang, expletives, or axioms does s/he use?
  • What words would s/he never use? 
  • What is the rhythm of his/her speech? Is it forceful, terse, rambling, melodic, hesitant, stuttering?
  • How dominant or passive is s/he in conversation?
  • How direct or indirect is s/he in expressing appreciation, affection, needs, wants, dissatisfaction or anger?
  • What methods does s/he use to persuade others? 

Plot

  • What is my protagonist’s ultimate goal? How might it change in the course of the story?
  • What natural obstacles might block my protagonist? 
  • What are unusual obstacles that might fit my story world?
  • What are obvious ways to overcome the obstacles? What are unusual or unexpected ways to overcome the obstacles?
  • How can I best harness relationships to drive the story actions?
  • What are the absolute worst things that could happen to this particular protagonist?
  • What solutions would create the most inner conflict for my protagonist?

Setting

  • What place would provide the most useful backdrop to my characters and plot?
  • What unique features of the setting shape my characters?
  • What unique features of my setting could provide catalysts for my plot?
  • What home environment would my character set up for him/herself?

Theme

  • What virtues will I advocate and reward? 
  • What vices will I criticize and punish? 
  • What symbols best illustrate my theme?
  • What other literature or films can I allude to that have elements that could support my theme?

Revisions

  • Where are my characters behaving in ways that seem to not fit the situation: overreacting, underreacting, or otherwise veering from a truly natural reaction?
  • Where do my characters seem boring? What aspects of their inner worlds and relationships could I play up in those scenes? 
  • What characters aren’t pulling their weight? How could I eliminate them or combine them with an existing character?
  • What plot elements feel out of the blue? How could I better prepare for them?
  • Where does the story feel rushed? Where could I add breathing room? Which relationship or plot point could be built in a quiet scene?
  • Where is the story dragging? What extraneous material could be cut to speed up the pacing? Where could a complication or crisis be added?
  • Where is the tension falling flat? What are some ways I can raise questions, raise stakes or raise conflict?

Post-jot processing

Sort your jots by topic, gathering related material. If you worked with notecards, simply separate jots into distinct piles. If you jotted on larger paper on into a device, you may wish to transfer the information as you sort it.  First identify the ideas that excite you most. Next determine which ideas might have potential. Finally, identify the clunkers.

Once you’ve pared down to the best ideas, continue developing them using one of the following brainstorming techniques. As needed, go back to the “has potential” pile.

How might you make use of jot brainstorming? What part of the story planning process is most challenging for you?

Thursday, March 23, 2017 Laurel Garver
Jot in its verb form means “to write something quickly.” In its noun form, it means “a very small amount.” Put them together and you have a brainstorming method that’s all about brevity and speed. You simply come up with as many ideas as you can quickly and record them.

Where you’re working may dictate how you choose to record your jots. You can keep similarly themed jots on a journal page, store them in a memo program on your phone, or put jots on individual notecards.

Jots can be a wonderful precursor to any other brainstorming technique. Jotting is especially helpful for preparing to diagram (aka mind-map), a way of visually organizing ideas.

Jotting can be approached through a macro or micro approach, depending where you are in the process of writing. Generally, early in the process, you’ll need to jot broad ideas, and later, details.

Macro-level jotting exercises

Write as many possible answers to the following questions as fast as you can

  • Who is my main character, inside and out?
  • What is this story actually about? What's the themeatic thrust? (e.g. love, risk, healing, community, maturation, etc.) 
  • What is the nature of my hero’s journey? Away from what and toward what?
  • What other kinds of characters does this story need?
  • What events might happen in this story?
  • What elements does my setting need?
  • What possible outcomes or resolutions would fit this story?
  • How can I make this story unique?
  • What might this story be about thematically?
  • What do I need to research to make this story believable?

Micro-level jotting exercises

Tackle any of the questions below, focusing on unwritten parts of the story, places where you’re stuck, or revision problems. Generate as many possible ideas as you can quickly.

Characterization

  • What are my characters' their deepest wounds, beliefs, needs and fears?
  • What are their weaknesses, vices, pet peeves, and dislikes? 
  • What are their passions, dreams, core competencies, and interests?
  • What important past experiences have shaped them?
  • What key relationships have helped and/or harmed them?
  • How do secondary characters relate to primary ones?

Dialogue

  • How does my character sound? Formal or informal? Intellectual, moderately educated, street-smart, down-home, innocent/naive, or mentally challenged?
  • What key phrases does s/he use often? What colorful slang, expletives, or axioms does s/he use?
  • What words would s/he never use? 
  • What is the rhythm of his/her speech? Is it forceful, terse, rambling, melodic, hesitant, stuttering?
  • How dominant or passive is s/he in conversation?
  • How direct or indirect is s/he in expressing appreciation, affection, needs, wants, dissatisfaction or anger?
  • What methods does s/he use to persuade others? 

Plot

  • What is my protagonist’s ultimate goal? How might it change in the course of the story?
  • What natural obstacles might block my protagonist? 
  • What are unusual obstacles that might fit my story world?
  • What are obvious ways to overcome the obstacles? What are unusual or unexpected ways to overcome the obstacles?
  • How can I best harness relationships to drive the story actions?
  • What are the absolute worst things that could happen to this particular protagonist?
  • What solutions would create the most inner conflict for my protagonist?

Setting

  • What place would provide the most useful backdrop to my characters and plot?
  • What unique features of the setting shape my characters?
  • What unique features of my setting could provide catalysts for my plot?
  • What home environment would my character set up for him/herself?

Theme

  • What virtues will I advocate and reward? 
  • What vices will I criticize and punish? 
  • What symbols best illustrate my theme?
  • What other literature or films can I allude to that have elements that could support my theme?

Revisions

  • Where are my characters behaving in ways that seem to not fit the situation: overreacting, underreacting, or otherwise veering from a truly natural reaction?
  • Where do my characters seem boring? What aspects of their inner worlds and relationships could I play up in those scenes? 
  • What characters aren’t pulling their weight? How could I eliminate them or combine them with an existing character?
  • What plot elements feel out of the blue? How could I better prepare for them?
  • Where does the story feel rushed? Where could I add breathing room? Which relationship or plot point could be built in a quiet scene?
  • Where is the story dragging? What extraneous material could be cut to speed up the pacing? Where could a complication or crisis be added?
  • Where is the tension falling flat? What are some ways I can raise questions, raise stakes or raise conflict?

Post-jot processing

Sort your jots by topic, gathering related material. If you worked with notecards, simply separate jots into distinct piles. If you jotted on larger paper on into a device, you may wish to transfer the information as you sort it.  First identify the ideas that excite you most. Next determine which ideas might have potential. Finally, identify the clunkers.

Once you’ve pared down to the best ideas, continue developing them using one of the following brainstorming techniques. As needed, go back to the “has potential” pile.

How might you make use of jot brainstorming? What part of the story planning process is most challenging for you?

Thursday, June 30

by guest author Tyrean Martinson 

“Shadow Girl” - Photo Credit: Anna Martinson


1.      The character pops into my head, usually after I’ve asked myself a “what if” question about something:
·         What if the victim of bullying is bullied by shunning because of something dangerous he did as a child? (“Seedling”)
·         What if a young swordswoman becomes the unexpected recipient of a blade of power that others think should belong to them? (original prompt for Champion in the Darkness)
·         What if a reluctant young bride has woven protection for herself into her traditional bridal gown? (Current WIP)

2.      The “what if” question creates spin-off questions for me:
·         What did the bullying victim do to be shunned? What if he wanted to change?
·         What if the swordswoman’s country was attacked before she received the blade of power?
·         Why is the bride reluctant? What if she’s being “sold” into a polygamous marriage? What if her wedding party is attacked by bandits?

3.      I start to create character profiles. I don’t worry about getting everything down, but I want to know these areas:
·         Name
·         Family “status” and who their family members are, if that’s important to the story
·         His/her place in their society
·         His/her strengths and at least one weakness
·         His/her heart’s desire in the scope of the story
·         I work on the physical attributes next, but this one stumps me sometimes because my descriptions seemed to start sounding alike from character to character.
As I write the story, I add to the character profiles.

4.      I pick images for my character. I look for:
·         Facial features that stand out
·         Outfits that my character would wear
·         Weapons they might or might not carry - briefcase, backpack, musical instrument or sword?
·         Vehicle they might drive/fly/own/want

“Sunbeam” Photo Credit: Tyrean Martinson



·         General images that might capture how the character sees the world


“Through the Fence” - Photo Credit: Tyrean Martinson

For all of these, I use pinterest and take some of my own photos. I know I’m not great at physical descriptions, so this step has huge importance for me, and I often create collages that I print out and stick to my wall above my desk.

5.      If I’m struggling with a character, I write “out of book” scenes that take me back to his/her childhood, or take me to a scene that would never actually happen in the book. I ask myself more questions along the way:
·         Why does this character hate the color orange? Did that come from a childhood incident of some kind? What other ways did that incident change this character?
·         OR What would a sword-wielding fantasy heroine do if she landed in the local McDonald’s or Starbucks with her best friend? What if she landed there with her enemy? What would she do there and why?

Other variations on how I create and develop characters:
1.      I find a picture first and start asking questions about the person in the image.
2.      I watch a few movies in the same genre and listen for dialogue pacing. (This is an area I hope to expand on in the next year or so since I struggle with creating dialogue.)
  
Tyrean Martinson
Blog    Facebook


Latest Book: Flicker: A Collection of Short Stories and Poetry is an exploration of many characters and their views of the world. 

How do you create and develop characters?
Thursday, June 30, 2016 Laurel Garver
by guest author Tyrean Martinson 

“Shadow Girl” - Photo Credit: Anna Martinson


1.      The character pops into my head, usually after I’ve asked myself a “what if” question about something:
·         What if the victim of bullying is bullied by shunning because of something dangerous he did as a child? (“Seedling”)
·         What if a young swordswoman becomes the unexpected recipient of a blade of power that others think should belong to them? (original prompt for Champion in the Darkness)
·         What if a reluctant young bride has woven protection for herself into her traditional bridal gown? (Current WIP)

2.      The “what if” question creates spin-off questions for me:
·         What did the bullying victim do to be shunned? What if he wanted to change?
·         What if the swordswoman’s country was attacked before she received the blade of power?
·         Why is the bride reluctant? What if she’s being “sold” into a polygamous marriage? What if her wedding party is attacked by bandits?

3.      I start to create character profiles. I don’t worry about getting everything down, but I want to know these areas:
·         Name
·         Family “status” and who their family members are, if that’s important to the story
·         His/her place in their society
·         His/her strengths and at least one weakness
·         His/her heart’s desire in the scope of the story
·         I work on the physical attributes next, but this one stumps me sometimes because my descriptions seemed to start sounding alike from character to character.
As I write the story, I add to the character profiles.

4.      I pick images for my character. I look for:
·         Facial features that stand out
·         Outfits that my character would wear
·         Weapons they might or might not carry - briefcase, backpack, musical instrument or sword?
·         Vehicle they might drive/fly/own/want

“Sunbeam” Photo Credit: Tyrean Martinson



·         General images that might capture how the character sees the world


“Through the Fence” - Photo Credit: Tyrean Martinson

For all of these, I use pinterest and take some of my own photos. I know I’m not great at physical descriptions, so this step has huge importance for me, and I often create collages that I print out and stick to my wall above my desk.

5.      If I’m struggling with a character, I write “out of book” scenes that take me back to his/her childhood, or take me to a scene that would never actually happen in the book. I ask myself more questions along the way:
·         Why does this character hate the color orange? Did that come from a childhood incident of some kind? What other ways did that incident change this character?
·         OR What would a sword-wielding fantasy heroine do if she landed in the local McDonald’s or Starbucks with her best friend? What if she landed there with her enemy? What would she do there and why?

Other variations on how I create and develop characters:
1.      I find a picture first and start asking questions about the person in the image.
2.      I watch a few movies in the same genre and listen for dialogue pacing. (This is an area I hope to expand on in the next year or so since I struggle with creating dialogue.)
  
Tyrean Martinson
Blog    Facebook


Latest Book: Flicker: A Collection of Short Stories and Poetry is an exploration of many characters and their views of the world. 

How do you create and develop characters?

Thursday, June 9

Months ago, I wrote a post about mapping interior spaces for your fiction. I'd fully intended to post next about building fictional outdoor environments, then realized I don't know anything about this topic! So I was delighted to discover a mapmaker offering her services to the author collective I participate in. And I'm even more delighted that she's willing to come here to share her tips on beginning to develop a map for your imagined world. Take it away, Angie....

By guest author Angie Grigaliunas

mapping helps you visualize your created world.
As a visual person, I’ve always been interested in maps. I created maps for most of the stories I started, and I worked for hours in Paint tweaking every little detail. As I’ve grown in both my writing and map-making, I decided to branch out and start helping others with their maps. I am by no means an expert, and I still have a lot to learn, but here are some tips to help you create a visual of your world.

One of the best parts for me in either writing or map-making is creating a new world. I can decide everything about it. It can also be daunting – trying to figure out landscapes, mountains, coastlines – especially when you don’t know where to start.

I personally always start with a land mass or continent. For the shape of this, check out actual countries and continents. Take note of how rugged or smooth the coastlines are and if there are islands. Drawing inspiration from real life creates a natural realism. Another great thing to try is searching for pictures of rust and using that shape as inspiration. Erosion works a similar way in both rust and land. You can also do this with a country, but country boarders are often affected by things other than natural causes (politics, for instance).

A basic land mass

Next, I place mountains. Most simply, mountains form where two tectonic plates move against each other (so it may be a good idea to figure out where those plates are in your world and create mountains along those lines). They’re not random, and islands will typically follow this same line. Mountains can cause rainshadows (a dry area on the leeward side of the mountain), so if you want deserts, decide which direction the weather in your world comes from and put your desert on the protected side of your mountains.

Mountain placement is based on tectonic plates lying beneath them.

After mountains, I start adding water. Some things to keep in mind here:

~Water flows toward the lowest point, away from mountains

~Rivers connect; they typically do not divide (unless there is a man-made reason, for instance)

~Lakes/ponds can have numerous rivers feeding them, but they can’t have more than one outgoing stream (as there is only one lowest point)

Rivers, flowing downhill from the mountains to the sea.

After that, I add forests and start deciding where I want my cities to be.

Forests spring up once you have water sources

People build where they have access to key resources.


For me, as an artist, it helps if someone has something drawn out – to the best of their abilities – with details such as mountains, lakes, rivers, cities, etc. That way I can more or less copy their world and put my touches on it instead of creating it from scratch and hoping it matches their vision. So if you’re planning to have someone make a map for you, do your best to draw something out. (It can also help you learn about your world! Win-win!)

When creating a map of your world, keep your people groups/races in mind. This gets into more world-building stuff, but if most of your people are nomads, for instance, you likely wouldn’t have any big metropolitan type area. Or if your nation is a big farming nation, there likely won’t be a ton of mountains – it’ll be flatter land, more field-like.

The best advice I can give is to research geography and study maps! Look at real countries and note how the mountains cut across the land, how the rivers flow, how the coastline changes.

For further research, check out Brandon Sanderson’s World Building Geography lecture series

If you have any questions or would like to solicit my map-making services, you can contact me at my facebook site, Your World Designed.


Angie Grigaliunas is a fantasy writer (mature content and themes) and blogger. She loves Jesus, the woods, and the stars, and has always wanted to be a superhero with a secret identity. She lives in Ohio with her dear husband, their puppy, and their crazy cats. You can follow her on Twitter at @Angie_ZeWriter.




How might mapping your fictional world help you better understand it? Any questions for Angie?
Thursday, June 09, 2016 Laurel Garver
Months ago, I wrote a post about mapping interior spaces for your fiction. I'd fully intended to post next about building fictional outdoor environments, then realized I don't know anything about this topic! So I was delighted to discover a mapmaker offering her services to the author collective I participate in. And I'm even more delighted that she's willing to come here to share her tips on beginning to develop a map for your imagined world. Take it away, Angie....

By guest author Angie Grigaliunas

mapping helps you visualize your created world.
As a visual person, I’ve always been interested in maps. I created maps for most of the stories I started, and I worked for hours in Paint tweaking every little detail. As I’ve grown in both my writing and map-making, I decided to branch out and start helping others with their maps. I am by no means an expert, and I still have a lot to learn, but here are some tips to help you create a visual of your world.

One of the best parts for me in either writing or map-making is creating a new world. I can decide everything about it. It can also be daunting – trying to figure out landscapes, mountains, coastlines – especially when you don’t know where to start.

I personally always start with a land mass or continent. For the shape of this, check out actual countries and continents. Take note of how rugged or smooth the coastlines are and if there are islands. Drawing inspiration from real life creates a natural realism. Another great thing to try is searching for pictures of rust and using that shape as inspiration. Erosion works a similar way in both rust and land. You can also do this with a country, but country boarders are often affected by things other than natural causes (politics, for instance).

A basic land mass

Next, I place mountains. Most simply, mountains form where two tectonic plates move against each other (so it may be a good idea to figure out where those plates are in your world and create mountains along those lines). They’re not random, and islands will typically follow this same line. Mountains can cause rainshadows (a dry area on the leeward side of the mountain), so if you want deserts, decide which direction the weather in your world comes from and put your desert on the protected side of your mountains.

Mountain placement is based on tectonic plates lying beneath them.

After mountains, I start adding water. Some things to keep in mind here:

~Water flows toward the lowest point, away from mountains

~Rivers connect; they typically do not divide (unless there is a man-made reason, for instance)

~Lakes/ponds can have numerous rivers feeding them, but they can’t have more than one outgoing stream (as there is only one lowest point)

Rivers, flowing downhill from the mountains to the sea.

After that, I add forests and start deciding where I want my cities to be.

Forests spring up once you have water sources

People build where they have access to key resources.


For me, as an artist, it helps if someone has something drawn out – to the best of their abilities – with details such as mountains, lakes, rivers, cities, etc. That way I can more or less copy their world and put my touches on it instead of creating it from scratch and hoping it matches their vision. So if you’re planning to have someone make a map for you, do your best to draw something out. (It can also help you learn about your world! Win-win!)

When creating a map of your world, keep your people groups/races in mind. This gets into more world-building stuff, but if most of your people are nomads, for instance, you likely wouldn’t have any big metropolitan type area. Or if your nation is a big farming nation, there likely won’t be a ton of mountains – it’ll be flatter land, more field-like.

The best advice I can give is to research geography and study maps! Look at real countries and note how the mountains cut across the land, how the rivers flow, how the coastline changes.

For further research, check out Brandon Sanderson’s World Building Geography lecture series

If you have any questions or would like to solicit my map-making services, you can contact me at my facebook site, Your World Designed.


Angie Grigaliunas is a fantasy writer (mature content and themes) and blogger. She loves Jesus, the woods, and the stars, and has always wanted to be a superhero with a secret identity. She lives in Ohio with her dear husband, their puppy, and their crazy cats. You can follow her on Twitter at @Angie_ZeWriter.




How might mapping your fictional world help you better understand it? Any questions for Angie?

Friday, May 20

Book series are all the rage in publishing, Readers enjoy spending more time with familiar characters and/or worlds, and series promise a kind of brand consistency that the risk-averse reader appreciates. They know that if they like your style and content, they're more likely to continue liking your other similar works.

That doesn't automatically mean one should only write series. If you are a young writer, it might be wiser to experiment in numerous genres until you hit your stride and wait to invest time in creating series once you've found the sweet spot --stories that you like to write and readers like to read.

Some genres lend themselves to particular types of series more than others. Romances rarely if ever span several books with the same characters. Romance arcs are usually constrained by reader expectations of a happy ending, not a cliffhanger. Romance series tend to be joined by locale or by theme, spanning numerous discrete pairings whose stories might or might not overlap.

Mystery series tend to follow the same sleuth, but move from case to case, again, eschewing the cliffhanger model. Readers expect a mystery to be resolved by book's end--to be a stand-alone product. The sleuth might develop over the series, or he or she might be a more steady force and the appeal is the new intellectual puzzle rather than character development.

It's in adventure, science fiction, and fantasy (and their subgenres, like dystopian) where cliffhanger endings and incomplete arcs are more the norm. But look at series like Harry Potter, and you'll find that each book has a complete, contained arc, while each book also contributes to and moves forward a larger, whole-series arc. Whether you could create such a series by building on a stand-alone is debatable, however. Rowling's work clearly was heavily planned and structured to give equal weight to each volume's arc as well as the series arc. So I'd think twice about attempting to take your stand-alone fantasy and expect to have a series arc pop out without having been planned it, with seeds planted that have yet to come to fruition.

With those genre-trope caveats out of the way, I'd like to suggest some ways to build series when you've written stand-alone books.

Same world

Some of McCaffrey's Pern series (via Amazon.com)

Frank Herbert's Dune series follows several different characters through a universe he creates in which space travel is made possible through an altered-mind state caused by a rare drug, Spice, found on the desert planet Arrakis. Whoever controls the Spice controls the universe.

Anne McCaffrey's Pern series take place on the planet Pern, where human colonists genetically modified lizards into dragons in order to fight a sky-borne menace called Thread. Books cover everything from the first colonization to generations of dragonriders over centuries, and include other professions in the planet's guild system during its "middle ages," such as healers (Nerilka's Story) and bards (Dragonsinger, Dragonsong, Dragondrums).

If you've spent considerable time and effort building a unique setting, consider how you might use the setting for other stories, focused on other characters and/or other segments of society. It doesn't necessarily need to be a fantastical or otherworld setting either. A New Adult author might work with a particular invented college campus with unique majors or unique campus features. A cozy mystery writer  might set all of the stories in the same region with different amateur sleuths. A literary fiction writer might follow several generations who live in the same oddball town.

Imagine how the unique setting might change over time because of the events in your stand-alone. Consider picking up with your main character's children or grandchildren, or with a secondary or even tertiary character you wished you could have developed more in your first book.

Spin-off characters


L.M. Montgomery's Anne series contains seven books, five that focus on Anne Shirley, and two with her children, Rainbow Valley and Rilla of Ingleside. This series follows Anne from childhood, when she is adopted by the Cuthbert siblings, into her teen years, college, early career, marriage and motherhood, moving to several locales in Canada. Once Anne is fairly settled and no longer having madcap adventures, her kids carry on.

Perhaps the sidekick character in your first book would like his or her own story. Or perhaps you'd like to carry forward what happens next from the love interest's point of view, as Gayle Foreman did with both If I Stay / Where She Went and Just One Day / Just One Year.  Perhaps you'd like to experiment with changing genres without switching brands, so spin off a younger or older character and write his or her story in your existing world, but write it as middle grade, or young adult or adult.

Thematic series


If you feel like no characters are begging to have their own story, and you want to try a new setting, consider building a thematic series of stand-alones. The books might have the same kind of content--all coming-of-age, all awkward romances, all entrepreneurs struggling with start up businesses. Or they might have complementary themes, like Melody Carlson does with her True Colors series, each a faith-based story about a teen struggling with a particular social problem, like peer pressure, substance abuse, jealousy, heartbreak, abuse, depression.

Unfinished business


Even if your stand-alone book tied up several loose ends, there might be some that you chose to leave to the reader's imagination, merely hint at, or simply chose to not address for fear the denouement would feel unrealistically tidy. That's the case with my second book, Almost There. It picks up a year and a half after my first book, which deals with my main character losing her dad. But while I gesture toward Dani and her mother heading toward a better relationship, I leave somewhat open ended what that might look like in the future. And her mother's family, Dani learns, have a history of dysfunction that's only briefly examined in Never Gone.

Think about the  How to Train Your Dragon films. While Hiccup and his father have largely reconciled at the end of the first film, it remains to be seen how their relationship will change as Hiccup matures from teenager to man. Plus, the first film hints at the hole left by the loss of Hiccup's mother--a loss shrouded in mystery. That mystery comes to the fore in the sequel.

Unfinished business stories work only if you love your character enough to stick with them into their future. What parts of your initial novel weren't tidily tied up? Conversely, which tidily tied up things might, in time, fall apart? What minor characters lurking in the background want to come forward and interact with your protagonist? What aspects of your protagonist's flaws do you believe will loom large and cause conflict in the future? Build on your previous story, considering where natural consequences would lead over time.

If time has passed since your initial release, it's wise to work to make the sequel understandable as a stand-alone itself.

What are some of your favorite books series and why?
Friday, May 20, 2016 Laurel Garver
Book series are all the rage in publishing, Readers enjoy spending more time with familiar characters and/or worlds, and series promise a kind of brand consistency that the risk-averse reader appreciates. They know that if they like your style and content, they're more likely to continue liking your other similar works.

That doesn't automatically mean one should only write series. If you are a young writer, it might be wiser to experiment in numerous genres until you hit your stride and wait to invest time in creating series once you've found the sweet spot --stories that you like to write and readers like to read.

Some genres lend themselves to particular types of series more than others. Romances rarely if ever span several books with the same characters. Romance arcs are usually constrained by reader expectations of a happy ending, not a cliffhanger. Romance series tend to be joined by locale or by theme, spanning numerous discrete pairings whose stories might or might not overlap.

Mystery series tend to follow the same sleuth, but move from case to case, again, eschewing the cliffhanger model. Readers expect a mystery to be resolved by book's end--to be a stand-alone product. The sleuth might develop over the series, or he or she might be a more steady force and the appeal is the new intellectual puzzle rather than character development.

It's in adventure, science fiction, and fantasy (and their subgenres, like dystopian) where cliffhanger endings and incomplete arcs are more the norm. But look at series like Harry Potter, and you'll find that each book has a complete, contained arc, while each book also contributes to and moves forward a larger, whole-series arc. Whether you could create such a series by building on a stand-alone is debatable, however. Rowling's work clearly was heavily planned and structured to give equal weight to each volume's arc as well as the series arc. So I'd think twice about attempting to take your stand-alone fantasy and expect to have a series arc pop out without having been planned it, with seeds planted that have yet to come to fruition.

With those genre-trope caveats out of the way, I'd like to suggest some ways to build series when you've written stand-alone books.

Same world

Some of McCaffrey's Pern series (via Amazon.com)

Frank Herbert's Dune series follows several different characters through a universe he creates in which space travel is made possible through an altered-mind state caused by a rare drug, Spice, found on the desert planet Arrakis. Whoever controls the Spice controls the universe.

Anne McCaffrey's Pern series take place on the planet Pern, where human colonists genetically modified lizards into dragons in order to fight a sky-borne menace called Thread. Books cover everything from the first colonization to generations of dragonriders over centuries, and include other professions in the planet's guild system during its "middle ages," such as healers (Nerilka's Story) and bards (Dragonsinger, Dragonsong, Dragondrums).

If you've spent considerable time and effort building a unique setting, consider how you might use the setting for other stories, focused on other characters and/or other segments of society. It doesn't necessarily need to be a fantastical or otherworld setting either. A New Adult author might work with a particular invented college campus with unique majors or unique campus features. A cozy mystery writer  might set all of the stories in the same region with different amateur sleuths. A literary fiction writer might follow several generations who live in the same oddball town.

Imagine how the unique setting might change over time because of the events in your stand-alone. Consider picking up with your main character's children or grandchildren, or with a secondary or even tertiary character you wished you could have developed more in your first book.

Spin-off characters


L.M. Montgomery's Anne series contains seven books, five that focus on Anne Shirley, and two with her children, Rainbow Valley and Rilla of Ingleside. This series follows Anne from childhood, when she is adopted by the Cuthbert siblings, into her teen years, college, early career, marriage and motherhood, moving to several locales in Canada. Once Anne is fairly settled and no longer having madcap adventures, her kids carry on.

Perhaps the sidekick character in your first book would like his or her own story. Or perhaps you'd like to carry forward what happens next from the love interest's point of view, as Gayle Foreman did with both If I Stay / Where She Went and Just One Day / Just One Year.  Perhaps you'd like to experiment with changing genres without switching brands, so spin off a younger or older character and write his or her story in your existing world, but write it as middle grade, or young adult or adult.

Thematic series


If you feel like no characters are begging to have their own story, and you want to try a new setting, consider building a thematic series of stand-alones. The books might have the same kind of content--all coming-of-age, all awkward romances, all entrepreneurs struggling with start up businesses. Or they might have complementary themes, like Melody Carlson does with her True Colors series, each a faith-based story about a teen struggling with a particular social problem, like peer pressure, substance abuse, jealousy, heartbreak, abuse, depression.

Unfinished business


Even if your stand-alone book tied up several loose ends, there might be some that you chose to leave to the reader's imagination, merely hint at, or simply chose to not address for fear the denouement would feel unrealistically tidy. That's the case with my second book, Almost There. It picks up a year and a half after my first book, which deals with my main character losing her dad. But while I gesture toward Dani and her mother heading toward a better relationship, I leave somewhat open ended what that might look like in the future. And her mother's family, Dani learns, have a history of dysfunction that's only briefly examined in Never Gone.

Think about the  How to Train Your Dragon films. While Hiccup and his father have largely reconciled at the end of the first film, it remains to be seen how their relationship will change as Hiccup matures from teenager to man. Plus, the first film hints at the hole left by the loss of Hiccup's mother--a loss shrouded in mystery. That mystery comes to the fore in the sequel.

Unfinished business stories work only if you love your character enough to stick with them into their future. What parts of your initial novel weren't tidily tied up? Conversely, which tidily tied up things might, in time, fall apart? What minor characters lurking in the background want to come forward and interact with your protagonist? What aspects of your protagonist's flaws do you believe will loom large and cause conflict in the future? Build on your previous story, considering where natural consequences would lead over time.

If time has passed since your initial release, it's wise to work to make the sequel understandable as a stand-alone itself.

What are some of your favorite books series and why?

Wednesday, July 29

Theme, simply put, is the Why of your story. James Scott Bell calls it “the meta-message”: the insight, lesson, or new way of seeing things you want readers to take away from your story (Story and Structure, 130).

Theme wants to be heard (photo by SQUAIO / morguefile.com). 
To use a cooking metaphor, theme is a powerful flavor that should be able to be tasted all through a work.

Theme is woven though the shape of the story arc, through ethical dilemmas characters face, through which characters are given the role of hero and villain, through key characters’ attitudes, through characters’ conversations (including their word choices and allusions to other artistic works), through setting and description, through pacing the plot to emphasize some actions and characters over others.

And yet, theme is one of those aspects of fiction that seems to deeply divide the writing community.

Some say you should know your theme and be able to state it as a sentence. Others say if you can state a theme as a sentence, then it’s probably a pretty lousy one that’s poorly crafted and about an inch deep.

Some believe you should have the theme fairly firmly cemented in your mind by the time you go from rough to second draft. Others say you likely won’t recognize the theme until you’re many drafts deep in the process.

I suspect some of these arguments fall along the planner/pantser fault line in the writing community.

The planners would want to know what the overarching thematic thrust is before they commit much to paper. And being tidy, they might even go so far as to draft a dozen versions of their statement of theme early in the process.

Pantsers are more likely to let the story unfold and see where their imagination takes them. Multiple themes might emerge that must then be winnowed until the best remain. Pantser themes that grow out of this process are more likely to be multi-faceted, not easy to sum up in a sentence.

Of course, there are also those who question whether you “need” a theme at all. Donald Maas, in Writing the Breakout Novel, argues you will regret avoiding the issue of theme. He compares stories without a theme to a conversation with a horrible bore at a party. You walk away wondering what the point was to his ramble, and remember almost nothing of the content--only the discomfort of having to hear it (229).

I struggle to think of a single story that doesn’t some thematic content, even if it’s a bit unshaped. Humans are meaning-making beings. Even elementary students’ rambling, episodic tales have thematic elements. They express an underlying ethic that values some things and repudiates others, deems traits worthy of reward or punishment, shows goals as worth pursuing or avoiding, characterizes relational patterns as positive or negative.

The question therefore becomes not whether one will have a theme, but how much will you shape it? At what phase of the process?

As you contemplate theme, here are some key ideas to consider.

What is this story actually about? Love? Risk? Healing? Community? Individualism? Maturation?
What is the nature of my hero’s journey? Away from what and toward what?
What virtues will I advocate and reward? What vices will I criticize and punish?
What symbols best illustrate my theme?
What other literature or films can I allude to that have elements that could support my theme?

How actively do you shape your stories’ themes? At what phase? 

Wednesday, July 29, 2015 Laurel Garver
Theme, simply put, is the Why of your story. James Scott Bell calls it “the meta-message”: the insight, lesson, or new way of seeing things you want readers to take away from your story (Story and Structure, 130).

Theme wants to be heard (photo by SQUAIO / morguefile.com). 
To use a cooking metaphor, theme is a powerful flavor that should be able to be tasted all through a work.

Theme is woven though the shape of the story arc, through ethical dilemmas characters face, through which characters are given the role of hero and villain, through key characters’ attitudes, through characters’ conversations (including their word choices and allusions to other artistic works), through setting and description, through pacing the plot to emphasize some actions and characters over others.

And yet, theme is one of those aspects of fiction that seems to deeply divide the writing community.

Some say you should know your theme and be able to state it as a sentence. Others say if you can state a theme as a sentence, then it’s probably a pretty lousy one that’s poorly crafted and about an inch deep.

Some believe you should have the theme fairly firmly cemented in your mind by the time you go from rough to second draft. Others say you likely won’t recognize the theme until you’re many drafts deep in the process.

I suspect some of these arguments fall along the planner/pantser fault line in the writing community.

The planners would want to know what the overarching thematic thrust is before they commit much to paper. And being tidy, they might even go so far as to draft a dozen versions of their statement of theme early in the process.

Pantsers are more likely to let the story unfold and see where their imagination takes them. Multiple themes might emerge that must then be winnowed until the best remain. Pantser themes that grow out of this process are more likely to be multi-faceted, not easy to sum up in a sentence.

Of course, there are also those who question whether you “need” a theme at all. Donald Maas, in Writing the Breakout Novel, argues you will regret avoiding the issue of theme. He compares stories without a theme to a conversation with a horrible bore at a party. You walk away wondering what the point was to his ramble, and remember almost nothing of the content--only the discomfort of having to hear it (229).

I struggle to think of a single story that doesn’t some thematic content, even if it’s a bit unshaped. Humans are meaning-making beings. Even elementary students’ rambling, episodic tales have thematic elements. They express an underlying ethic that values some things and repudiates others, deems traits worthy of reward or punishment, shows goals as worth pursuing or avoiding, characterizes relational patterns as positive or negative.

The question therefore becomes not whether one will have a theme, but how much will you shape it? At what phase of the process?

As you contemplate theme, here are some key ideas to consider.

What is this story actually about? Love? Risk? Healing? Community? Individualism? Maturation?
What is the nature of my hero’s journey? Away from what and toward what?
What virtues will I advocate and reward? What vices will I criticize and punish?
What symbols best illustrate my theme?
What other literature or films can I allude to that have elements that could support my theme?

How actively do you shape your stories’ themes? At what phase? 

Tuesday, August 12

I don't know about the rest of you, but August can be a very chaotic month for me, with vacations and back-to-school preparations and a total lack of routine in far too many areas. My daughter's dance lessons are "drop ins" and her guitar teacher shifts days around, some church activities don't meet, while others are more frequent.

But even when I feel this scattered, I have a couple of routines that help me not lose all track of my writing.

Walk

Image by jorgeyu, morguefile.com
A fifteen to thirty minute walk first thing in the morning makes me more alert and helps me gather my thoughts. I bring no gadgets, no music, no companions. This is distraction-free time when I can just think.

An April 2014 study from Stanford University found "Creative thinking improves while a person is walking and shortly thereafter." They also noted "Across the board, creativity levels were consistently and significantly higher for those walking compared to those sitting."

The good news? It's the act of walking and not the environment that matters. So when the weather's horrid, stepping onto a treadmill can give you similar benefits.

Of course, there are also health benefits to a daily walk, including reduced cancer, diabetes and heart disease risk. And if you're struggling with low energy, short walks are the ticket to breaking the vicious cycle of lethargy (lethargy tends to breed more lethargy). A bit of sun exposure during an outdoor walk will increase your levels of vitamin D, an important nutrient that improves not only bone health but also mood (why that is hasn't yet been studied in depth, but depression can be a symptom of vitamin D deficiency).

A walk can also be a great afternoon pick-me-up, especially when you've hit a crossroads in a story and can't decide how to proceed. Let your mind roam as your feet do, and your creative mind will offer ideas and solutions.

Write longhand

While I have no desire to return to the days of all longhand composition, I do find it extremely helpful to do some longhand writing every day, whether note jotting, brainstorming, or free-writing. I've tried all kinds of warm ups over the years and longhand is the one that never fails to "prime the pump" for me.

Apparently educators and cognitive scientists have been looking into why longhand writing is so beneficial to our brains. Virginia Berninger, professor of educational psychology at the University of Washington, used brain scans in her research on the benefits of longhand. She found that "as your hand executes each stroke of each letter, it activates a much larger portion of the brain’s thinking, language, and 'working memory' regions than typing." Keyword there? The language portion of the brain is more actively engaged.

Another study of elementary aged children found "writing by hand improves students’ creative writing skills, and elementary students actually write more quickly by hand than when typing. Compositions are also longer when written by hand...."  My experience bears that out--when writing longhand I'm more apt to write more ideas and edit less. There's something about the flow of the physical act of moving a pen across paper that keeps ideas flowing. (For more on this line of research, see "How Handwriting Trains the Brain.")

If you want to get out of the vicious cycle of having nothing to say, try journaling about it with a pen and paper. Chances are pretty good that you'll have more to say about having nothing to say than you might believe. Then voila, you've taken the first baby steps away from wordlessness and toward expression.

What routines do you try to maintain in chaotic times? What benefits have you found from walking and/or writing longhand?
Tuesday, August 12, 2014 Laurel Garver
I don't know about the rest of you, but August can be a very chaotic month for me, with vacations and back-to-school preparations and a total lack of routine in far too many areas. My daughter's dance lessons are "drop ins" and her guitar teacher shifts days around, some church activities don't meet, while others are more frequent.

But even when I feel this scattered, I have a couple of routines that help me not lose all track of my writing.

Walk

Image by jorgeyu, morguefile.com
A fifteen to thirty minute walk first thing in the morning makes me more alert and helps me gather my thoughts. I bring no gadgets, no music, no companions. This is distraction-free time when I can just think.

An April 2014 study from Stanford University found "Creative thinking improves while a person is walking and shortly thereafter." They also noted "Across the board, creativity levels were consistently and significantly higher for those walking compared to those sitting."

The good news? It's the act of walking and not the environment that matters. So when the weather's horrid, stepping onto a treadmill can give you similar benefits.

Of course, there are also health benefits to a daily walk, including reduced cancer, diabetes and heart disease risk. And if you're struggling with low energy, short walks are the ticket to breaking the vicious cycle of lethargy (lethargy tends to breed more lethargy). A bit of sun exposure during an outdoor walk will increase your levels of vitamin D, an important nutrient that improves not only bone health but also mood (why that is hasn't yet been studied in depth, but depression can be a symptom of vitamin D deficiency).

A walk can also be a great afternoon pick-me-up, especially when you've hit a crossroads in a story and can't decide how to proceed. Let your mind roam as your feet do, and your creative mind will offer ideas and solutions.

Write longhand

While I have no desire to return to the days of all longhand composition, I do find it extremely helpful to do some longhand writing every day, whether note jotting, brainstorming, or free-writing. I've tried all kinds of warm ups over the years and longhand is the one that never fails to "prime the pump" for me.

Apparently educators and cognitive scientists have been looking into why longhand writing is so beneficial to our brains. Virginia Berninger, professor of educational psychology at the University of Washington, used brain scans in her research on the benefits of longhand. She found that "as your hand executes each stroke of each letter, it activates a much larger portion of the brain’s thinking, language, and 'working memory' regions than typing." Keyword there? The language portion of the brain is more actively engaged.

Another study of elementary aged children found "writing by hand improves students’ creative writing skills, and elementary students actually write more quickly by hand than when typing. Compositions are also longer when written by hand...."  My experience bears that out--when writing longhand I'm more apt to write more ideas and edit less. There's something about the flow of the physical act of moving a pen across paper that keeps ideas flowing. (For more on this line of research, see "How Handwriting Trains the Brain.")

If you want to get out of the vicious cycle of having nothing to say, try journaling about it with a pen and paper. Chances are pretty good that you'll have more to say about having nothing to say than you might believe. Then voila, you've taken the first baby steps away from wordlessness and toward expression.

What routines do you try to maintain in chaotic times? What benefits have you found from walking and/or writing longhand?

Wednesday, January 2

Happy New Year, friends. I hadn't intended to take quite such a long blogging hiatus, but I've been battling a rather nasty respiratory virus for many weeks. Something had to give, and knowing how little folks read blogs over the holidays, it seemed wise to back off this venue for a bit.

Many of you have been busily crafting elaborate plans for the coming calendar year. I've never been a huge fan of New Year's resolutions, but I do like goal setting. I think my reluctance to join the resolutions bandwagon is the arbitrary nature of the date. January 1 is in the midst of the Twelve Days of Christmas (day 8, Feast of the Holy Name). The fact it fell on a Tuesday makes it feel even less like "the start of something new," at least to me. For centuries, the new year began in March, which makes more sense, since winter is passing and the new life of spring is emerging.

So it's now 2013, a new number. If that motivated you to set goals, great. If not, perhaps seasonal shifts are a better time for reflection and planning. I sat down and hammered out some creative plans just before Advent. Fitness goals were set back in July. I'll spend time examining spiritual goals before Lent begins.

You've probably heard that trying to institute too many changes at once decreases the likelihood that you'll accomplish any of them. Why not try a quarterly approach instead? Pick an area of your life for each season and set new goals then.

How do you approach goal-setting and planning? Do you like resolutions? 
Wednesday, January 02, 2013 Laurel Garver
Happy New Year, friends. I hadn't intended to take quite such a long blogging hiatus, but I've been battling a rather nasty respiratory virus for many weeks. Something had to give, and knowing how little folks read blogs over the holidays, it seemed wise to back off this venue for a bit.

Many of you have been busily crafting elaborate plans for the coming calendar year. I've never been a huge fan of New Year's resolutions, but I do like goal setting. I think my reluctance to join the resolutions bandwagon is the arbitrary nature of the date. January 1 is in the midst of the Twelve Days of Christmas (day 8, Feast of the Holy Name). The fact it fell on a Tuesday makes it feel even less like "the start of something new," at least to me. For centuries, the new year began in March, which makes more sense, since winter is passing and the new life of spring is emerging.

So it's now 2013, a new number. If that motivated you to set goals, great. If not, perhaps seasonal shifts are a better time for reflection and planning. I sat down and hammered out some creative plans just before Advent. Fitness goals were set back in July. I'll spend time examining spiritual goals before Lent begins.

You've probably heard that trying to institute too many changes at once decreases the likelihood that you'll accomplish any of them. Why not try a quarterly approach instead? Pick an area of your life for each season and set new goals then.

How do you approach goal-setting and planning? Do you like resolutions? 

Monday, November 26

Is there such a thing as too much characterization? By that, I mean, can you invest too much time into developing some characters to the point of derailing a project?

I'd argue that yes, you can. Not every character warrants developing a back story, motivation, wound. If you did take the time to do that for every walk-on, a story could quickly become tangent-riddled every time someone new entered a scene.
Look at ME! No, me! Me! Me! Me!

Granted, most writers have the opposite problem. They don't develop even the primary characters deeply enough. But both the "too many stars" and flat characterization problem can begin to be addressed by taking one initial step.

You might call the process "assembling the cast." Basically, it entails listing all your story's characters and prioritizing them in terms of their importance to the story.

Primary characters 

Each of the main actors who appear in 3/4 of the story scenes should have a "characterization work up" that includes a basic life history (key events), a relationship web, and a psychological make up that includes desires, fears, and core values. Gather some telling details for each primary character. Those might include hobbies, taste in music or film, appearance, home environment.

It's easy to get carried away developing telling details at the expense of doing the deeper psychological work. Better to invest your time in knowing how family of origin issues and environment and education shape a character than furnishing apartments, creating music playlists and the like. It's the characters' underlying drives that fuel conflict, after all, not curtain colors, or wardrobe, or the current soundtrack. And without conflict, you have no story.

Secondary characters 

Second tier characters influence the primary characters and course of the plot, but appear less frequently. The key thing secondary characters need is a relationship web. They are connectors of the primary characters. Some psychological development can make their relationships more realistic, and telling details make them stand out from one another. Secondary characters might include a trusted friend, a coworker, a close sibling, parents or other near relatives. They lay emotional claim to the main characters and offer help and hindrance as the protagonist works toward his or her goal.

Tertiary characters 

Third tier characters might or might not warrant being named, depending on the role they play. Here are some tertiary functions and the types of players needed:

Catalyst
Tertiary catalysts are triggers who enter scenes in order to cause change. A tertiary catalyst might be a pacing aid, like the comic relief character who releases tension whenever he appears. Or she might be a functionary whose official duties bring change, like a police officer or an EMT.

Set dressing 
In film, they're called "extras"--the assorted faces that people a locale: patients in a waiting room, thugs loitering in a bad neighborhood, cliques in the school cafeteria, commuters, store clerks, security guards. Give some thought about what emotions they might evoke in your primary characters, such as a sense of security, fear, claustrophobia, or self-consciousness. Develop telling details to bring out those emotions. For example, when your protagonist is crammed into an elevator, we feel her anxiety through her reactions to fellow riders' cloying perfume, menacing umbrellas, over-sized backpacks.

Verisimilitude 
These characters lend reality to a story by filling small parts, somewhere between catalyst and set dressing. They have a handful of lines throughout the story. They exist to further widen our understanding of the main character and to create milieu. In a YA story, for example, this might be a younger sibling who creates obstacles and has some comic lines, or a secondary character's parent who is the polar opposite of the protagonist's parents.

image credit: arjmage at morguefile.com

Do you develop characters before you write or as you write? How might a bit of character planning and prioritization aid your drafting process?
Monday, November 26, 2012 Laurel Garver
Is there such a thing as too much characterization? By that, I mean, can you invest too much time into developing some characters to the point of derailing a project?

I'd argue that yes, you can. Not every character warrants developing a back story, motivation, wound. If you did take the time to do that for every walk-on, a story could quickly become tangent-riddled every time someone new entered a scene.
Look at ME! No, me! Me! Me! Me!

Granted, most writers have the opposite problem. They don't develop even the primary characters deeply enough. But both the "too many stars" and flat characterization problem can begin to be addressed by taking one initial step.

You might call the process "assembling the cast." Basically, it entails listing all your story's characters and prioritizing them in terms of their importance to the story.

Primary characters 

Each of the main actors who appear in 3/4 of the story scenes should have a "characterization work up" that includes a basic life history (key events), a relationship web, and a psychological make up that includes desires, fears, and core values. Gather some telling details for each primary character. Those might include hobbies, taste in music or film, appearance, home environment.

It's easy to get carried away developing telling details at the expense of doing the deeper psychological work. Better to invest your time in knowing how family of origin issues and environment and education shape a character than furnishing apartments, creating music playlists and the like. It's the characters' underlying drives that fuel conflict, after all, not curtain colors, or wardrobe, or the current soundtrack. And without conflict, you have no story.

Secondary characters 

Second tier characters influence the primary characters and course of the plot, but appear less frequently. The key thing secondary characters need is a relationship web. They are connectors of the primary characters. Some psychological development can make their relationships more realistic, and telling details make them stand out from one another. Secondary characters might include a trusted friend, a coworker, a close sibling, parents or other near relatives. They lay emotional claim to the main characters and offer help and hindrance as the protagonist works toward his or her goal.

Tertiary characters 

Third tier characters might or might not warrant being named, depending on the role they play. Here are some tertiary functions and the types of players needed:

Catalyst
Tertiary catalysts are triggers who enter scenes in order to cause change. A tertiary catalyst might be a pacing aid, like the comic relief character who releases tension whenever he appears. Or she might be a functionary whose official duties bring change, like a police officer or an EMT.

Set dressing 
In film, they're called "extras"--the assorted faces that people a locale: patients in a waiting room, thugs loitering in a bad neighborhood, cliques in the school cafeteria, commuters, store clerks, security guards. Give some thought about what emotions they might evoke in your primary characters, such as a sense of security, fear, claustrophobia, or self-consciousness. Develop telling details to bring out those emotions. For example, when your protagonist is crammed into an elevator, we feel her anxiety through her reactions to fellow riders' cloying perfume, menacing umbrellas, over-sized backpacks.

Verisimilitude 
These characters lend reality to a story by filling small parts, somewhere between catalyst and set dressing. They have a handful of lines throughout the story. They exist to further widen our understanding of the main character and to create milieu. In a YA story, for example, this might be a younger sibling who creates obstacles and has some comic lines, or a secondary character's parent who is the polar opposite of the protagonist's parents.

image credit: arjmage at morguefile.com

Do you develop characters before you write or as you write? How might a bit of character planning and prioritization aid your drafting process?

Wednesday, October 24

Yesterday was my very first school visit, in which I discussed editing and writing with my daughter's mixed 3rd-4th grade class (her private school has mostly mixed-grade classrooms to encourage peer mentoring).

In addition to talking about what editors do and describing how I switch gears to write fiction, I also shared a little about how to shape a story. The teachers want me to come back and do some more activities on the topic, because this is one of the toughest things for kids ages 8-10. Their ideas are big and sprawling and rapidly become overpopulated and never quite arrive anywhere.

One activity we did together was discuss a basic story arc, and pulled examples from the film How to Train Your Dragon (HtTYD). I think it might be helpful to writers at any level to take a look at these skeleton basics, because we too can lose the forest for the trees:


Eight point plot structure


1. Stasis

This is where we see the normal, every day life of the character--what sort of person they are, and what are the “rules” of the world they live in.

In HtTYD, we meet Hiccup, the techie geek boy with a laughable name, and learn that he lives in a medieval-type Viking culture that has some problems--their weather is terrible and they have a "pest" issue, namely that dragons regularly attack and steal from them. Hiccup is inept at the one thing that matters most--killing dragons. He longs to be respected.

2. Trigger

Something disrupts or changes your character’s normal world. It might be something bad, like Snow White’s stepmother turning against her, or something good like finding a treasure map.

In HtTYD, Hiccup actually succeeds at doing something his culture values--he takes down one of the most feared types of dragons, a Night Fury.

3. Quest

In response to the trigger, the main character wants to do something, whether it’s Snow White fleeing for safety or the map finder seeking the treasure.

In HtTYD, Hiccup realizes he does not want to kill the dragon he injured. He commits to understanding dragons differently than his culture does. 

4. Obstacles and surprises

This is the main portion of the story--the middle--where the main character sets out on the quest and stuff happens. Other characters help or hinder them. Nature and society helps or hinders them. There should be a mix of defeat and victory. The events shouldn’t be too random or too obvious. They should make sense based on who’s in the story and the rules of the story world.

In HtTYD, Hiccup leads a double life, rehabilitating an injured dragon while learning to fight them in training sessions with his peers. He earns Toothless's trust and helps the dragon fly again through trial and error of various prosthetic tails. Meanwhile, he also learns through trial and error how to gain mastery over dragons through what Toothless has taught him about dragon likes and fears. More complications arise as the Toothless rehab project is discovered by Ingrid. In trying to convince Ingrid to think differently about dragons, Hiccup is led to discover the real problem: Toothless and others are bullied by a much worse enemy, the "hive queen." Through a series of events, the village learns about the taming of Toothless and make him their pawn in the war against all dragons.

5. Decision

The ongoing troubles of the quest should lead the main character to decide something important to move the story forward.

In HtTYD, Hiccup decides to rescue Toothless from the villagers and try to stop their raid on the dragon hive, even if it means becoming even more of an outcast than he already is.

6. Climax

This is the big battle the main character has decided to face. It might be a fight with an enemy, or tackling an obstacle that seems impossible, or entering a final test or trial like a sports competition.

In HtTYD, the villagers uncover the truth of the "hive queen" dragon, and Hiccup and the village teens work together to battle this mighty monster with the help of their trained dragons.

7. Reversal

The place the character was before the big battle--their status--is reversed. He or she comes out on top, or maybe thought something would be easy, but fails.

In HtTYD, the teens defeat the "hive queen," proving once and for all that Hiccup's way of seeing the smaller dragons is correct and that he is indeed not inept, but more skilled than anyone else. Hiccup's father Stoic is no longer prideful, but humbled; no longer disdainful, but loving. 

8. Resolution

This is the new normal for the main character. The weakling who has won the battle wins respect. The foolish person who fails wins wisdom. In fairy tales, it’s usual to see the hero or heroine winning a partner, a domain, and a treasure.

In HtTYD, we see Hiccup bearing a "badge of honor" for his culture--a battle injury requiring a prosthesis like his mentor the blacksmith and like his dragon Toothless. We return to a riff on the opening exposition describing the village, but with a twist. Instead of  dragons being "pests" that bring harm, they are now "pets" that improve villagers' lives. 

Hiccup gains Ingrid's affections (partner), a place of respect in the village (domain), and  a tricked-out prosthetic foot-- a battle scar that makes others honor him (treasure).
While there are variations on this most basic of hero's quest, it's a helpful model to keep in mind when you aren't sure how to start a story, how to build toward a satisfying ending, or how to shape incidents into a cohesive whole.


Another back-to-basics...

I'm over at the Rabble Writers' blog today, talking about "Grief faces, not phases." In the post, I discuss how researching the grief process shaped my characterization of Danielle in Never Gone.

Have you used a skeleton plot structure to shape your stories? 
Wednesday, October 24, 2012 Laurel Garver
Yesterday was my very first school visit, in which I discussed editing and writing with my daughter's mixed 3rd-4th grade class (her private school has mostly mixed-grade classrooms to encourage peer mentoring).

In addition to talking about what editors do and describing how I switch gears to write fiction, I also shared a little about how to shape a story. The teachers want me to come back and do some more activities on the topic, because this is one of the toughest things for kids ages 8-10. Their ideas are big and sprawling and rapidly become overpopulated and never quite arrive anywhere.

One activity we did together was discuss a basic story arc, and pulled examples from the film How to Train Your Dragon (HtTYD). I think it might be helpful to writers at any level to take a look at these skeleton basics, because we too can lose the forest for the trees:


Eight point plot structure


1. Stasis

This is where we see the normal, every day life of the character--what sort of person they are, and what are the “rules” of the world they live in.

In HtTYD, we meet Hiccup, the techie geek boy with a laughable name, and learn that he lives in a medieval-type Viking culture that has some problems--their weather is terrible and they have a "pest" issue, namely that dragons regularly attack and steal from them. Hiccup is inept at the one thing that matters most--killing dragons. He longs to be respected.

2. Trigger

Something disrupts or changes your character’s normal world. It might be something bad, like Snow White’s stepmother turning against her, or something good like finding a treasure map.

In HtTYD, Hiccup actually succeeds at doing something his culture values--he takes down one of the most feared types of dragons, a Night Fury.

3. Quest

In response to the trigger, the main character wants to do something, whether it’s Snow White fleeing for safety or the map finder seeking the treasure.

In HtTYD, Hiccup realizes he does not want to kill the dragon he injured. He commits to understanding dragons differently than his culture does. 

4. Obstacles and surprises

This is the main portion of the story--the middle--where the main character sets out on the quest and stuff happens. Other characters help or hinder them. Nature and society helps or hinders them. There should be a mix of defeat and victory. The events shouldn’t be too random or too obvious. They should make sense based on who’s in the story and the rules of the story world.

In HtTYD, Hiccup leads a double life, rehabilitating an injured dragon while learning to fight them in training sessions with his peers. He earns Toothless's trust and helps the dragon fly again through trial and error of various prosthetic tails. Meanwhile, he also learns through trial and error how to gain mastery over dragons through what Toothless has taught him about dragon likes and fears. More complications arise as the Toothless rehab project is discovered by Ingrid. In trying to convince Ingrid to think differently about dragons, Hiccup is led to discover the real problem: Toothless and others are bullied by a much worse enemy, the "hive queen." Through a series of events, the village learns about the taming of Toothless and make him their pawn in the war against all dragons.

5. Decision

The ongoing troubles of the quest should lead the main character to decide something important to move the story forward.

In HtTYD, Hiccup decides to rescue Toothless from the villagers and try to stop their raid on the dragon hive, even if it means becoming even more of an outcast than he already is.

6. Climax

This is the big battle the main character has decided to face. It might be a fight with an enemy, or tackling an obstacle that seems impossible, or entering a final test or trial like a sports competition.

In HtTYD, the villagers uncover the truth of the "hive queen" dragon, and Hiccup and the village teens work together to battle this mighty monster with the help of their trained dragons.

7. Reversal

The place the character was before the big battle--their status--is reversed. He or she comes out on top, or maybe thought something would be easy, but fails.

In HtTYD, the teens defeat the "hive queen," proving once and for all that Hiccup's way of seeing the smaller dragons is correct and that he is indeed not inept, but more skilled than anyone else. Hiccup's father Stoic is no longer prideful, but humbled; no longer disdainful, but loving. 

8. Resolution

This is the new normal for the main character. The weakling who has won the battle wins respect. The foolish person who fails wins wisdom. In fairy tales, it’s usual to see the hero or heroine winning a partner, a domain, and a treasure.

In HtTYD, we see Hiccup bearing a "badge of honor" for his culture--a battle injury requiring a prosthesis like his mentor the blacksmith and like his dragon Toothless. We return to a riff on the opening exposition describing the village, but with a twist. Instead of  dragons being "pests" that bring harm, they are now "pets" that improve villagers' lives. 

Hiccup gains Ingrid's affections (partner), a place of respect in the village (domain), and  a tricked-out prosthetic foot-- a battle scar that makes others honor him (treasure).
While there are variations on this most basic of hero's quest, it's a helpful model to keep in mind when you aren't sure how to start a story, how to build toward a satisfying ending, or how to shape incidents into a cohesive whole.


Another back-to-basics...

I'm over at the Rabble Writers' blog today, talking about "Grief faces, not phases." In the post, I discuss how researching the grief process shaped my characterization of Danielle in Never Gone.

Have you used a skeleton plot structure to shape your stories?