The Unity of Character and Plot

Several years ago, at the North Carolina Writers Network conference, I attended a session where the instructor claimed that character is plot. While I understand her point, I think she went too far. Many things happen in our lives that we can’t control. In fiction, the response to external events demonstrates character and propels plot. But generally, by the end of the story, the protagonist becomes proactive instead of responsive, and the protagonist’s positive action creates the climax.

Character and plot must work in harmony. For the story to be believable, the actions the character takes must be consistent with the character you’ve created. For instance, imagine if two of Shakespeare’s great tragic figures, Hamlet and Othello, were the protagonist in each other’s stories. How would those plays go?

Act I, Scene 1: The ghost of the old king tells Othello to avenge the old king’s death by killing Claudius.
Act I, Scene 2: Othello kills Claudius.
The End

No story, right? And if Iago hinted to Hamlet that Desdemona were cheating on him, Hamlet would answer, “You cannot play upon me.”

For the two plays to work, Othello‘s hero must display extraverted, sensing, judging energy, while Hamlet‘s hero must display introverted, intuitive, perceiving energy.

Keep in mind, though, that when under extreme stress, people (and characters) behave in ways they never would otherwise. In Writing the Breakout Novel, Donald Maass advises novelists to imagine something their character would never think, say, or do—then create a situation where the character thinks, says, or does exactly that. If it’s critical to your story that your character behave in uncharacteristic ways, put that character in an environment of increasing stress, until the point that the character’s “shadow” takes over. Isabel Myers defined the “shadow” as the inferior function. It is the least developed, and the one least likely to be used in a rational and mature manner—even in the best of times. When someone is under stress, and the inferior function takes charge, the results can be disastrous.

In your own stories, do character and plot work in harmony? If a character behaves in an uncharacteristic way, be sure to show that the character is under enough stress to make the action believable.

There Is No Muse: Where Writers Really Get Their Ideas

Creative writers dread the question, “Where did you get your idea?” I was asked this question recently and answered it as honestly as I could. But in fact, I’m not sure the question has an answer. Ideas come from everywhere and nowhere. They come from our imagination, from the whispers of forgotten memories, from our own experiences, from our friends’ experiences, from books and songs and movies. Writers draw their stories from the amalgam of their lives.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve told myself stories. Author J.D. Rhoades says it’s like having a movie playing continuously on the inside of your forehead. I can’t understand having a brain that doesn’t work that way. So I don’t quite understand what people want to know when they ask where I get my ideas. I’m torn between giving a simple, concrete answer or a more theoretical one that reveals the artistic process.

In the mind of a creative writer, ideas are like a throng of brokers on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange screaming for attention. Novelists don’t write because they get ideas—they write because they need to get rid of ideas. They write because an idea is burning a hole in their skull, and it won’t stop until they let it out. And if you’ve never had that experience, then my telling you in a simple, concrete way where I got my idea won’t get you any closer to understanding where stories come from.

But do people who ask that question really want to know where stories come from? I don’t think so. I think they want a simple answer so they can nod and think they understand a process so mysterious that no one can ever understand it. They want an answer that gives the illusion that the artistic process is linear and predictable, when in fact it’s dark and chaotic.

This concept that a Muse from on high touches you with her magic, and suddenly an idea bursts forth, is a fallacy. The imaginations of creative writers are constantly churning. At some point, we grab an idea from that fermenting brew and channel our energy into making a full-blown story or novel out of it. One thought builds on another until a world is born. And I think that’s true regardless of the author’s preference for sensing or intuition. Sensing types may be more drawn to stories that come from something concrete—like a saga from their family’s history—while intuitive types might prefer more imaginative stories like fantasy or science fiction. But I don’t think either type suffers from a shortage of ideas. We suffer from a plenitude of them.

Related posts:
Incubating Your Fiction Ideas
Writing and Creativity: Going Outward to Go Inward

Punctuation and Personality Type in Fiction

In his blog post The Great Semi-Colon Debate, author James Scott Bell says that semicolons should be avoided in fiction. I agree to a point, but I wouldn’t ban them altogether. If used skillfully, semicolons can reveal character in dialogue and internal monologue.

In my own fiction writing, I associate certain punctuation marks with the speech patterns of certain personality types. These aren’t hard rules, of course. But here’s my list of punctuation marks and the personality types that go with them.

Semicolons: INPs

INFPs and INTPs communicate with the world through extraverted intuition. Intuition naturally sees all ideas as connected. But as introverts, the INPs think before they speak. This combination of tendencies leads to sentences that are long but carefully constructed; the semicolon is the best punctuation mark to communicate this quality.

Comma splices: ENPs

Continue reading “Punctuation and Personality Type in Fiction”

Incubating Your Fiction Ideas

Do introverted writers have an advantage over extraverts when it comes to developing story ideas?

In her classic book Becoming a Writer, author Dorothea Brande admonishes writers against discussing their story ideas with others:

Your unconscious self … will not care whether the words you use are written down or talked to the world at large. If you are for the moment fortunate enough to have a responsive audience you often suffer for it later. You will have created your story and … will find yourself disinclined to go on with the laborious process of writing that story at full length; unconsciously, you will consider it as already done.

Most introverts should have little trouble following this advice. During early drafts, they like to work in isolation. But extraverts prefer to develop their ideas through talking about them with others. So how can extraverts follow their preference without killing their passion for the story?

Self-talk.

Neuroimaging studies suggest that introverts are more likely than extraverts to engage in self-talk. When developing a story, try talking to yourself, whether out loud or inside your head. Take notes of the conversation you have with yourself. Get your ideas on paper—don’t let them vanish into the ether.
Continue reading “Incubating Your Fiction Ideas”

Writing and Creativity: Going Outward to Go Inward

Over the past six weeks, I’ve been doing something I rarely do in the evenings: watching television. Mainly the History Channel and NatGeo—I’ve learned a lot about how the earth was formed and what John of Patmos was really writing about in the Book of Revelation. I suppose I could feel guilty that I haven’t gotten as much writing done as I otherwise would have. But I don’t.

Why? Because writers need to replenish. It’s easy for writers to get locked up in their own heads. If their inward focus becomes too extreme, they won’t have anything interesting to write about. Or they’ll keep writing about the same things over and over again, with no new ideas to freshen their work.

By exposing myself to subjects that I rarely encounter in my own life—like earth science, history, and theology—I reignite my curiosity. I doubt that I’ll have use for these subjects in my writing. But they’ve gotten me thinking in new ways about human resiliency. Will our race be wiped out by a giant asteroid hitting the earth, or perhaps by an epic battle between good and evil on the fields of Megiddo? I’m skeptical.

I believe humans can, and will, overcome anything—maybe not as individuals, but as a species. The record of our time on earth demonstrates how we continually adapt to the challenges we face. This is what drives me. At the core of my fiction is a fervent belief in human resiliency—a belief I want to share.

It’s good for writers to be reminded of why they write—and to remember that the themes that permeate their writing grow out of other, seemingly unrelated parts of their life. New ideas and experiences nourish you as a writer. Take the time to embrace them.

Do you have any tips on how writers can renew their creativity? Leave a comment!

Self-Published Books: Designing for Readability

Good design makes reading more relaxing.

Self-publishing has made it easier than ever for authors to get their words into print. However, many authors of self-published books have little or no training in page layout. The design principles of desktop publishing can help you improve readability and customer satisfaction. Help build a loyal following with these six techniques:

1. Use white space.

When you’re paying to publish a book, every square millimeter is precious real estate.  But white space isn’t wasted space. White space gives the readers’ eyes a place to rest. More importantly, it gives their mind a place to rest, so they can reflect on what they’ve read. This enhances the learning process so that readers will retain more.

To provide white space, use adequate margins.  Favor short paragraphs over long ones. Consider page breaks at the end of sections. The small increase in cost will dramatically improve readability. Continue reading “Self-Published Books: Designing for Readability”

Breaking the Rules: Question Marks in Dialogue and Informal Communication

When it comes to writing, rules can be a wonderful thing. They help ensure consistency, and they relieve writers from having to make endless decisions about mundane questions like which punctuation mark to use. Sometimes, though, usage rules can get in the way of clear communication. In creative writing or informal communication like email, writers have the freedom to reject those rules if they don’t find them useful.

The rules say to use a question mark in the following situations:

  • At the end of a direct question: Whose meatball is that?
  • To express doubt or uncertainty: Leona was born in 1960[?], which would mean her current age is 49.
  • To express confusion or disbelief: You call that a sandwich?

According to the Chicago Manual of Style, a “courtesy question” does not require a question mark. For example, “Will you please remove your shoes before entering the sanctuary” is a statement, not a question.

In Modern American Usage, Bryan Garner puts it this way: “A question mark follows every question that expects an answer.”

Sometimes, though, I expect an answer even if I don’t phrase the sentence as a question. Consider the following: “I wonder if I have time to stop at the post office before lunch?” This is the reverse of a courtesy question: it’s a question phrased as a statement. What I mean is, “I want to stop at the post office before lunch. Do you mind?” But this phrasing makes it awkward for someone to say, “I’ve got a 1:00 meeting.  I was hoping everyone could be at the restaurant by noon.” So I cloak my desire in an absent sort of wondering to make it easier for someone to tell me no. Continue reading “Breaking the Rules: Question Marks in Dialogue and Informal Communication”

Hooking the Reader: It’s Not Rocket Science

I hate to contradict Rodgers and Hammerstein, but the beginning is not a very good place to start. Whether you’re writing a biography or describing a bird, the best place to start is with the most interesting features.

Before naturalist Roger Tory Peterson came along, a typical description of a robin started at the tip of the beak and ended at the tip of the tail. It wasn’t until you were halfway through the description that you learned a robin has a red breast. Peterson changed that. As the inventor of the modern field guide, he used descriptions that focused on distinguishing characteristics, so birders could accurately identify different species.

Likewise in a biography, start out with what makes the individual unique. Here’s an example of a rather uninspiring biographical note from a portrait at the San Diego Air and Space Museum:

Wernher Von Braun
Rocket Scientist
Born Wirsitz, Germany, 23 March 1912. As chief scientist at the Peenemunde
Rocket Center in Germany, developed the first long range ballistic missile, the V-2.

Before I even get to the interesting part (that he invented the first long-range ballistic missile), I’ve already stopped caring. Impatient readers might stop reading. I’d rewrite this note as follows:

Wernher Von Braun
Rocket Scientist
Developed the first long range ballistic missile, the V-2, while chief scientist at the
Peenemunde Rocket Center in Germany. Born Wirsitz, Germany, 23 March 1912.

In the very first sentence, give readers something to care about. Capture their imagination. Propel them into the second sentence, then into the third. Today’s readers filter the mass of material that confronts them. You have a few seconds to convince readers that your story, article, or paper is worth their time. Don’t waste a sentence. Don’t waste a word. Compel them to read.

Dialogue: Getting to the Point

couple talking
Dialogue captures the essence of conversation.

With NaNoWriMo coming to a close, it’s time to start thinking about editing your first draft. Here are some tips to help make your dialogue sing.

Use boring dialogue tags

Many beginning writers look for alternatives to said, such as stated, exclaimed, averred, or expounded. The problem is, these alternatives draw attention to themselves and away from the dialogue. Generally, it’s best to stick with asked and said. They’re invisible, so they don’t sound repetitive to the reader. That doesn’t mean that you can’t occasionally use words like whispered or interjected where relevant. But be judicious. Continue reading “Dialogue: Getting to the Point”

Writing Effective Sex Scenes (Without Embarassing Yourself or Others)

In honor of NaNoWriMo, I’m tackling a subject that many beginning novelists find challenging: sex scenes.  Sex scenes require finesse and attention to craft, but they don’t have to be difficult to write.  Just keep in mind the purpose that they serve.

Like any other scene, sex scenes must do the following:

  • advance the plot
  • develop the characters
  • create a mood
  • leave the reader wondering what will happen next

Love in a cave
Sex scenes work best when much is left to the reader's imagination.

Sex scenes do not require detailed description of the action.  One of the cardinal rules of writing fiction is that you should never tell readers something they already know.  Readers already know that characters have certain body parts, and that during sex, those body parts will interact in certain ways. Unless you want to stress something that’s unusual about the body parts or the interaction, you can avoid mentioning them altogether. Implication is sufficient.  The readers’ imagination will fill in the rest.

What does interest readers is how the characters feel about the action. Are they blissful, bored, insecure, or confident? Is the protagonist hoping that this is the man she’ll spend the rest of her life with, or is she mentally composing a grocery list?

As in any other scene, sensory detail is important. Again, you don’t have to tell readers what sex feels like; assuming that you’re writing for adults, most of them already know. Instead, choose details that are specific to the character. Does the protagonist notice that her lover’s sheets are cheap and rough, whereas she’s used to 300-thread-count cotton? Does that make him less attractive to her? Or does she think he just needs a good woman to teach him about the finer things in life? If the latter, do you, as the author, want this to be a warning sign to readers that the protagonist is blind to how incompatible the couple is? Or do you want to show that they complement each other—that they’re both open to growth? Focus on how the action of the scene ties into the larger action of the novel.

Sex scenes can be emotionally intense.  They often show characters at their most vulnerable. They can be turning points in a relationship or a novel. Remember that sex scenes are about character, not about sex, and approach them without fear.