This article by guest poster Romi Summer on Jami Gold’s site is one of the clearest synopsis-writing templates I’ve seen yet (thanks again to Chris the Story Reading Ape!). I especially like that it’s a primer on story structure as well. I don’t care if you do write Literary Stuff—if you don’t have these elements, you don’t have a story.
This article (via that incredible resource, Chris the Story Reading Ape) rings so true for me. I, too, have “lost novels,” one of which actually got published, to my everlasting regret—even with a supposedly top editor! Just goes to show you (me): it’s YOUR book, and you are the one who either makes it work or not. K. M. Weiland’s focus on story—on structure, on having an arc that provides readers with the narrative pull to keep reading: vital. I’ve written and reblogged about that (just some examples), because I learned the hard way. Take her advice to heart.
Do you have a “lost novel”? What did you take away?
Mistakes are unavoidable. To fear them is to fear life itself. To try to eliminate them is to waste life in a futile struggle against reality itself.
I daresay no one has more opportunities to learn these truths than does a writer.
As writers, our lives are a never-ending litany of mistakes. Certainly mine has been full of mistakes—everything from the opening sentences I wrote for this post, thought better of, and replaced—to literally hundreds of thousands of deleted words I’ve carefully saved from all my rough drafts—to entire story ideas (representing hundreds of hours of dedicated, hopeful work) that have proven themselves unsalvageable and earned a dusty place in a back corner of a closet shelf.
I won’t say I don’t regret these mistakes. I do. I regret the wasted time and effort. I regret the bereavement of loving and nurturing something that never…
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Here’s a terrific follow-up to an earlier post of mine, “Why I Quit Reading Your Book.” The Red Ant hits some specifics that resonate for me. Especially this one, which addresses a problem I’ve seen over and over:
So you have a great plot and good, strong characters (quirky individuals or admirable, real people), and now… nothing keeps happening. The characters chat, hang out, look at the landscape, wait for the curtain to go up so the show can start… how long will you keep the reader waiting?
Folks, something has to happen—fast. Not necessarily a bomb going off, but something. Some really great advice from a conference I attended: Start with conflict, not crisis. Get those characters arguing about a challenge or a problem that’s got to be taken care of. They’ll start talking, and you and your readers (me, at least) will soon be taking sides!
I also echo the points about finding the balance between too much and too little world-building. Exposition and description piled up in the first pages are static. Get people doing things, and let their world settle into place around them.
More great advice in this post. Check it out!
I just came across this post again:
https://justcanthelpwriting.com/2016/01/30/why-i-quit-reading-your-book/
Back then I thought she had nailed it. I still think she does, as do some of the commentators. I agree with Roughseas that it’s more than just Voice; but I also agree with Virginia, there has to be Voice.
Ireland is amazing. (I knew it would be.)
Almost everyone I encounter here is a natural storyteller. So it’s hard to understand, if this comes so natural to people here, how others can struggle to write so it engages the reader.
You write a story the way you would tell it to a crowd of avid listeners.
Those passages that make you blush? Strike them from the manuscript! The parts where your audience starts yawning and looking around? You know you’ve lost them, you need to intensify the writing. Maybe lie lower on the description…
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I was scrolling around today and found some good cautions for us all about creating realistic story lines in our fiction. I especially like the first warning: Stop having characters read each other’s minds by looking into their eyes!
It has often occurred to me that it’s not “the eyes” that carry emotion anyway. It’s the facial muscles around and below the eyes that make them cruel or sad or joyous. So note to self: be careful about using this trope.
Today, though, I especially want to pick up on the point that it’s okay if characters can’t always tell exactly what the other person is thinking.
I’ve scoured the remains of my film-writing library (used only for one intense period in my writing life) looking for the book that introduced me to this terminology. You won’t find this phrase with search terms, which return sites about films without dialogue. In contrast, in “‘No’ Dialogue” one character refuses to give the other what he or she wants without ever quite saying so.
The technique delivers “subtext,” what’s really going on below the surface, without the characters having to stop the story to explain. At the same time, it builds tension, as the main character cannot get what he or she wants. Here are a few lines from that wonderful scene between Bud White and Lynn Bracken in L. A. Confidential (warning: I’ve ** the bad words, but you’ll still know what they are):
BUD
Miss Bracken, don’t ever try to f**king bribe me or threaten me or I’ll have you and Patchett in s**t up to your ears.
LYNN
I remember you from Christmas Eve. You have a thing for helping women, don’t you, Officer White?
BUD
Maybe I’m just f**king curious.
LYNN
You say “f**k” a lot.
BUD
You f**k for money.
LYNN
There’s blood on your shirt. Is that an integral part of your job?
BUD
Yeah.
LYNN
Do you enjoy it?
BUD
When they deserve it.
LYNN
Did they deserve it today?
BUD
Last night. And I’m not sure.
LYNN
But you did it anyway.
BUD
Yeah, just like the half dozen guys you screwed today.
LYNN
Actually, it was two.
Dialogue like this is a verbal contest—instant conflict—in which each character refuses to acknowledge what is actually being asked, which is “What kind of person are you?” because answering that question would set in motion a terrifying commitment. Yet we know from their refusals to state the obvious what it is that bothers them about themselves, what they’re struggling with behind the repartee, what they’re trying to deny.
In only one place in this exchange does Bud answer the question Lynn actually asks: “Did they deserve it today?” And when Bud finally answers, his tough-guy façade slips. “I’m not sure.” That uncertainty has been there all along, as she throws him off balance and disrupts his self-image. When his doubt emerges, it’s a surrender he didn’t plan and a giveaway to what lies ahead.
And note that we get this many-layered interaction between two people searching for the possibility of something more than what lies before them without a single reference to the look in their eyes.
Although many writing coaches don’t use the term”‘No’ Dialogue,” several suggest ways of incorporating this technique into your stories.
In my own case, when I’ve felt that a scene has really delivered at least some of the impact I hoped for, I’ve looked back to see that “‘No’ Dialogue” has played a role in that success.
Here’s an article that breaks down the basic elements of story structure to the scene level, with excellent, clear examples. Sometimes I suspect writers think they’re too “literary” to observe the basics that this article (from The Creative Penn via Chris the Story Reading Ape) lays out. But these guidelines are just that: basic. Because they work. Pay special attention to the discussion of the “literal” and “essential” elements of a scene. Enjoy and apply!
on The Creative Penn:
It can be easy to assume that writing a story is just about getting words on the page. After all, we’ve read and watched and listened to so many stories that creating one can’t be difficult, right?
The truth is that writing a compelling story involves a lot more than words. You need to understand aspects of story structure.
In today’s article, Valerie Francis breaks down the elements of a scene.
From Ruth Harris at Anne R. Allen’s blog via Chris the Story Reading Ape! My pet peeves fall into the category Ruth discusses as “plot contrivances.” Pet peeve #1: The cell phone somebody forgot to charge, so that the hero can’t call for help. #2: Police who are so abysmally stupid or unprofessional that the hero gets thrown in prison for a crime she didn’t commit, with no hearing or Miranda rights or lawyers; #3: This is more or less related to Ruth’s No. 1, Lapses in Logic—the rescue or physical action that couldn’t possibly happen unless sixty million stars were aligned and even then would need divine intervention. Example: a book I read in which the villain supposedly killed the victim by throwing a rock and hitting him in the head while the victim was riding a horse a hundred feet away. Next time I want to commit a murder, will have to try that one!
Right now I’m working on a variation of the “girl walks into the warehouse to confront the killer alone” pot hole identified in the comments. My girl does something pretty stupid. The payoff is spectacular, though. Waiting to see if my group readers will buy that as her excuse.
What “plot holes” are your pet peeves?
on Anne R Allen site:
What an absolutely terrific post! I completely agree with Connie Jasperson about Strunk &White: too rigid, outdated (even though the general sentiment is fine). I have often recommended both Story and The Writer’s Journey to fellow writers–and I’ve promoted Rhetorical Grammar aggressively on this blog several times. This “textbook” provides a whole new way of looking at how readers read what you wrote. Invaluable! Thanks, Connie!
I use the internet for researching many things on a daily basis. However, in my office, some reference books must be in their hardcopy forms, such as The Chicago Manual of Style. I (and most other editors) rely on the CMOS, as it’s the most comprehensive style guide, and is geared for writers of essays and novels, fiction, and nonfiction.
Strunk and White’s Elements of Style is an acceptable beginner style guide, but is presented in an arbitrary, arrogant fashion and sometimes runs contrary to commonly accepted practice. Strunk and White’s Elements of Style is still the same book it was when it was originally conceived, as it has not changed or evolved, despite the way our modern language has changed and evolved. Because the Elements of Style is somewhat antiquated in the rules it forces upon the writer, I no longer even own a copy of it.
Instead, I…
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Paddy and his mom!
Just Can't Help Writing 