On Holiday

Sorry, my fellows, but I'm feeling under the weather and hopelessly impatient with all the problems Blogger has been having. I can't comment on half of your blogs, because Blogger logs me in and then still doesn't recognize me for commenting purposes. Sometimes I can enter my identification info by hand, and sometimes not.

Which means I'm taking a break today and will be back on Wednesday. Instead of posting Wednesday News, I'll have my Story Structure post on the final confrontation. I hope to see you then!

Quick Weekend Update on "Dis"

I wanted to say thank you to everyone who has been so supportive of my foray into self-publishing. There's always lots of talk about top 100 lists on Amazon, and, less than 24 hours into this experiment, "Dis" has hit #60 in Fantasy Anthologies and not quite #20,000 in the paid Kindle store. (That #60 kind of dominated my attention.)

Thanks to everyone who has purchased "Dis" so far (and in future). Reviews are welcome! Amazon, Goodreads, wherever.

And a good holiday weekend to all.

Story Structure Part 5 - The Second Plot Point

As I mentioned last Monday, when I blogged about the mid-point twist, I’m not going to concentrate a whole post on the second pitch point. Please refer to my post on the first pitch point if you feel like you need to cover pitch points again. Just remember, my fellows, that the second pitch point will fall at roughly the 5/8 landmark in the story, before the second plot point ushers in the third act.

Our actual topic, as we get close to the end of this structure mini-series, is the second plot point. Like the first plot point, it is a major turn of events that acts as a one-way door between acts. After this event, the hero cannot backtrack to his simpler understanding of the situation, life, or himself.

So what in particular is supposed to happen in the second plot point chapter/scene? The story needs to take another unexpected turn, but this one should lead to a very specific place for the hero – his Black Moment. This is the all-hope-is-lost moment when the hero appears utterly defeated and might even be ready to give up or perhaps settle for the hopeless suicide run that cannot possibly defeat the antagonist but could do some collateral damage.

I was struck by a comical little clip from the trailer to the film Drive Angry. The cute little southern girl is facing the villain. He tells her he is going to kill her. Her response: "Yeah, but between now and then, I’m gonna mess you up." That’s the kind of attitude I mean.

However, I think we need to put a finer point on the Black Moment. It’s important to note that it’s the hero’s inner demons that have defeated him here, even more so than the villain. Throughout the story, assuming we’ve created a hero equipped with some good, meaty flaws, the hero has been stumbling over his own shortcomings and complicating his own problems at every turn. The Black Moment is the scene in which the biggest, baddest, most dreaded of these flaws rises up and Kicks. His. Ass.

To move past this moment, the hero is going to have to defeat the specter of his own imperfection and accept responsibility for his situation.

It’s also important to note that, for the majority of the hero’s life, he has been unable to face this flaw, let alone defeat it. How is he supposed to defeat it now? With the strength he has gained during the course of the story. He’s not going to pull out a skill or an inner strength he’s had for the past ten years. If he had this skill or strength back then, he’d have already defeated this demon. The trials that have beset the hero since he stepped through the doorway into Act II will provide him with what he previously lacked.

Getting close to that final resolution, my fellows. Any Friday thoughts on the second plot point?

Also, a couple of notes…

I highly recommend heading over to Wicked & Tricksy today, where Brenda Pierson, aka Bransforumer dios4vida, has a fun guest post up.

And I am going live with my blog for readers, if any of you would like to join me there. Sommer designed Unsafe Haven for me, and she did a freaking fantastic job of it. Last I spoke to her, she had one more bug to work out (which she might already have addressed). If you are having any trouble with the appearance of the blog, I suggest making sure you’re viewing it with the screen maximized.

I’m going live with Unsafe Haven because my first self-published short story should be going live for sale on Amazon sometime late this afternoon. When it does, I will update.

Update: it's alive. *gulp*

Another Wednesday News Roundup

Sleepy Margo is sleepy, so forgive my lack of exuberance. This will be the quiet, serious, understated newscast, like the days of old, before holographic displays and anchors who spout their opinions and cry on the air. This is the coffee and soft pajamas edition of "Good Morning, Writing World" with host Sleepy Margo.

So, I registered my copyright last night for "Dis". Yes, I know that everything we write is automatically copyrighted, but if it ever actually has to be litigated, we need the copyright certificate. This is mostly a self-publishing issue. People who will be licensing their work to publishers won't have to deal with this. Good news is that doing it online is significantly less expensive than doing it by mail ($35 instead of $65) AND we can several works on one filing, significantly reducing the cost of copyrighting a literary work.

Of course, the real point of mentioning the copyright is to add it to the list of "Stuff Done": write story, revise story, get professional editor, get professional cover design, copyright story. That leaves finishing the banner for the Red Adept announcement and formatting the story for the various distribution channels. Meaning...not much longer for the release. Friday maybe?

I'm working on the next story now. I hadn't actually intended to work on the sequel to "Dis" right now. I wasn't even sure I was going to do a sequel, leaving the sequel event to be implied instead. However, I've been nudged hard in the direction of a sequel by someone whose judgement I respect. While "Dis" has a sort of mini-arc at work, it is not a story that spans inciting incident to final confrontation and aftermath. It's primarily about one point in that arc and a far-reaching decision the character makes (and acts on). The sequel story, working title "City of Dis", will reveal what happens right after the end of "Dis", wrapping up the event.

Then I've got "The Shriver" and an odd story tentatively titled "Little Wight House".

Moving on, over at Wicked & Tricksy, it's my turn to post. My topic: Character Coping Skills and Defense Mechanisms. And on a related note, we could use some more guest bloggers. Check out the guidelines and leave your details for the Helpful Guest Coordinator (who happens to be me).

I'd also like to direct attention to a really fun idea from Rosie at East for Green Eyes - The What's the Score Blogfest. "On June 1st, post any number of songs, artists, composers, posers, who/whatever that you might want to include in the soundtrack to your WIP. YOU’RE IN CHARGE! You make the soundtrack the way you want it. Don’t have a WIP? Is your WIP’s soundtrack personal and not something you want to share? No problem! Take your favorite book, or the book your reading right now, or a book you remember well, and make a soundtrack for it." I think this sounds sooo cool. I'll be signing up as soon as I know whether or not my new blog will be functional by then (which is likely). If not, I'll sign up using Urban Psychopomp.

Now over to you, my fellows, for a special You Report.

Story Structure Part 4 - The Mid-Point Twist

I hate Monday mornings. And I hate forgetting things. I especially hate admitting on a Monday morning that I forgot something. Specifically, in my list story structure elements I said I’d be blogging about in this series, I forgot the final confrontation. Duh. However, it’s not that big a deal, since I realized in writing about the first pitch point that I didn’t have much more to say about the second pitch point. Thus my second pitch point post goes bye bye, leaving room for a final confrontation post. For those keeping track, I will say again that the second pitch point comes about 5/8 of the way through the novel, between the mid-point twist and the second plot point.

Speaking of mid-point twists (aka mid-point reversals)… If you recall my fellows, I pointed out that the first plot point was the doorway of no return for the hero. He finds out in the inciting incident that some kind of chaotic change is bearing down on his life, but he doesn’t realize yet that it’s a guided missile headed straight for him in particular. The first plot point disabuses him of his illusion that he can refuse the call to adventure. It also makes it clear to him that his earlier understanding of the main conflict was woefully limited. It was the tip of the iceberg, and someone just pushed his head under the water to give him a better look at what’s really under there.

At the mid-point twist, the hero realizes the problem isn’t the iceberg, it’s the ice shelf that calved the iceberg…and just broke off itself…heading in his direction. The mid-point twist is another point of revelation, new information that does a number of things:

-It changes the hero’s understanding. Someone almost hit the hero with their car. Right, that was the inciting incident. The hero finds out it was intentional. First plot point - check. At the mid-point twist the hero might find out it was a hit man hired by his wife, or a government assassin who wants to kill him because the hero is going to do something in the future that will cause an apocalypse. (Did I mention it’s a time-traveling government assassin?)

-It adds new weight to the story. Now the hero not only has to avoid the assassin, he has to find out what he’s going to do that causes such catastrophe in the future and how to prevent the same mistake.

-And finally, crucially, it shifts the hero from response mode to action mode. The hero is not going to dodge the assassin anymore. He’s going to make ready to engage the enemy directly, maybe with a trap or the use of friends in important places (like the university professor currently studying time-travel or the federal agent with access to top-secret files). He’s going to actively seek out information on how his recent activities and decisions might be leading him down a ruinous path.

Let me talk a little bit about that last one specifically, because it can cause no end of trouble in a story if it’s misinterpreted. Our hero should never be reactive, even before the mid-point twist. He should not be a leaf just blown about on a strong wind. He still needs to encounter a problem, come up with a plan for getting around the problem, and (usually) fail to one degree or another, causing additional complications with the choices he has made.

Why? Well, for one thing, reactive characters frequently come off as weak, habitual victims. It’s hard to believe they could find their way out of a phone booth, let alone deflect the end of the world or thwart the ancient evil. At this point, someone usually has the argument that their character starts out weak and reactive and gets stronger. I can see how that might work in YA, maybe, possibly, sometimes, but I would argue that there needs to be a least a baseline of courage and spine in there from the very beginning if we want the readers to bond with the character and stick around long enough for the transformation. Think about the first Terminator movie, for instance. Is it just me, or was Sarah Connor a whiny annoying character for the first half of the movie? Whiny and reactive. Good thing Kyle Reese was the hero in that film.

The switch from response mode to action mode is not so much one from passive to active but from defensive to aggressive. At the mid-point, the hero will learn things that will make him understand that there is no going around or under or over the trouble ahead, no escaping it. From the mid-point twist to the second plot point, the hero is in ‘lock-and-load mode’. This is when he toughens up, maybe gets pissed off or shamed for his earlier response, and recognizes he got to ‘bring it’.

Of course, he still has to make his way through the second half of Act II, arguably the most dangerous segment of the novel, because it’s there that his inner demons are going to kick his butt royally. Lock-and-load mode doesn’t mean it’s all kicking butt and taking names from here on out, but it is a shift in attitude and commitment.

Other thoughts in mid-point twists, my fellows?

***

FYI, I put together a writer page on Facebook where I will be announcing the release of my Urban Midgard short story "Dis". Soon. There's a link for 'liking' me on the right, just below my bio. Just sayin'. [coy batting of lashes]

Story Structure Part 3 - The First Pitch Point

So this mini-series of structure posts has looked at the inciting incident, the first sign of trouble in the story, the introduction of the disquiet that is going to eventually drive the main character away from the safe, familiar world. This event needs to occur before or at least at the same time as the first plot point, when the true nature of the story’s main conflict reveals itself to the main character in a direct and unmistakable event. This event will change everything for the character, making it clear to him that his only option is to resist or face utter defeat, the loss of all he holds dear. It is a point of no return. The character must now commit to action.

At the 3/8 and 5/8 section of the novel are what screenwriters call pitch or pinch points. Well-known screenwriter Syd Field, in his seminal work Screenplay, described these points as reminders of the central conflict, sharing a common motif.

What does that mean? Well, if our novel is about 90,000 words, it means that the antagonist or antagonistic force needs to exert another hard push on the story at about page 135, or about halfway between the first plot point and the mid-point twist.

Larry Brooks has a fabulous post on pitch points, which is where I first encountered the idea. He points out that this event really needs to be something the readers can see, something that hits them in the chest, so to speak. They need to see just how antagonistic the antagonist is, engaged in some act that obviously and directly threatens what the main character has at stake.

Syd Field, in studying screenplays, noted that the middle act was generally the longest and the most boring. As novelists we should be familiar with the idea of the ‘saggy middle’. Same thing. Field suggested the pitch/pinch points as a way to keep the middle act moving. He also specified that the pitch point needed to revolve around the central conflict rather than subplots, which can get a little out of control and overly prominent as we struggle to extend the story through the complexities of that long second act. The pitch points bring the focus back in on that big threat with the highest stakes.

Keep in mind that there will be another of these points at the 5/8 mark, and that these two points will need to share a common motif to link them, providing a sense of symmetry and resonance, a significance through association and strong emotion.

I will close by mentioning that the Bransforum’s own Cookie (aka Caitlin) has a wicked guest post up at Wicked & Tricksy today, that David Gaughran is looking at putting together a book of his popular blog posts on indie publishing for international writers, that favorite blogger Elizabeth Twist has placed a piece at One Buck Horror, and Steph Sinkhorn of maybe genius has a flash fiction piece entitled “Language Barriers” up at agent Sarah LaPolla’s blog Glass Cases.

Happy Friday, everyone. And happy birthday, Polymath, wherever you are.

Wednesday News

I've noticed lots of bloggers who tell people what they're listening to (music-wise), and I think I'd like to add that to my Wedneday Margo News days. Today's song: Carried You by Justin Nozuka. Follow the link on his name to his MySpace page where you can hear the whole song. Groovin to it myself right this second. Yes, I said groovin. That's what you do to this song. :) Can you hear all the classic influences in there?

I love it when a plan comes together!

Who said that? I have a terrible fear I just quoted the leader of the A-Team.

The important thing is that I've got several projects coming to fruition during these late days of May. My writing sister Sommer Leigh is almost finished putting together a custom Blogger template for me. I can't tell you how cool it looks! It's not going to be for this blog but for the one oriented to readers of my epic and urban fantasy stories and novels. After she has recovered, I might be able to convince her to help me overhaul this boring blog template!

Speaking of which, I'm in the final stages of the edit before the release of my short story "Dis". I decided I wasn't comfortable putting out even a short story without a professional edit, so I went with the second editor I had in mind. The (Norse) gods must have been smiling on me, because this editor and I work really well together. She should have been my first stop. She's well known among self-published authors, and her approval is a bit of a holy grail for self-pubbers, particularly in the US. I think we've started what is going to be a beautiful, long-term collaboration. We've done two passes through the story and had a telephone consult last Sunday, with only a straight proofread remaining. Now I have to learn to format the darn thing.

Speaking of my writing, I want to get your take on something, my fellows. I have two series I am plotting right now, both contemporary fantasy, one incorporating Norse myth and the other Celtic. "Dis" and "The Shriver", the stories I have up as samples (in excerpt), are both set in the world of the Norse series. I'm concerned, however, that Norse myth (done accurately) might be a little foreign to (American) readers. Perhaps the first novels I put out should be the Celtic ones. A lot of people out there like faeries, though mine are a special kind of dark. It might be the more accessible choice for the first books. Thoughts, my fellows?

And finally, if you haven't already, head over to Wicked & Tricksy, where I explain how I turned out to be such a (fantasy) geek. While you're there, remember to sign up to get a bookmark celebrating the blog launch. These could be worth a lot of geek points if we all become hideously famous, marry rock stars, trash hotel rooms, lose our minds, and start touring the world with our steam of consciousness variety show (trainwreck). *cough*charliesheen*cough*

Story Structure Part 2 - The First Plot Point

In discussing the inciting incident last Friday, I mentioned it’s not really the same thing as the first plot point (although it can be), but I didn’t actually go into what the first plot point is. That is today’s topic.

If you recall, my fellows, the inciting incident will usually occur somewhere between page 30 and 50 in a 90,000-word novel. (If it occurs sooner, it is called a hook, BTW. I neglected to go into that.) The inciting incident is the first sign of trouble, the first call to adventure (for the Joseph Campbell fans among us), but the hero will usually try to deal with the inciting incident quickly and get it out of his hair so he can go back to life as usual.

Life as usual. That’s important. When faced with a disturbance in “emotional equilibrium” (kudos to John Jack for that lovely phrase), people will usually try to restore that equilibrium, that state of comfort. They usually do NOT gladly go charging into danger, especially when hearth and home remain behind them and their inner demons lay ahead.

That’s where the first plot point comes in. This is the event that will drag the hero most unwillingly through the ONE-WAY door from Act I to Act II. After this event, there is no going back. There is no ignoring the dangers ahead, no quick-fix. The glimpse of trouble that was the inciting incident is now a large looming danger that transforms the hero’s understanding of the situation and requires him to change tactics drastically. If the hero refuses to respond to the call now, all will most certainly be lost. This is the point at which he realizes that.

I mentioned on Friday that the first plot point usually occurs at about the 20-25% mark in the story. Why so late? Because we have to establish the stakes we are going to endanger before we threaten them. It’s one thing to find out that there is a sea monster eating ships in the Atlantic. It’s another thing to find that out after learning that the hero’s baby sister is a scientist on a research vessel in the area where the sea monster was last seen. Introduce the stakes after the first plot point, and they will usually seem like a hasty afterthought, pasted in during revisions because the beta readers said they didn’t particularly care about the story or characters. These stakes can evolve and escalate during Act II, but we need to go into the act with readers already worried about what’s already at stake.

I’ll pause a moment to note that the set-up to the inciting incident and the first plot point might ‘just’ be establishing character and stakes, but that does not mean these scenes should be a boring diary of daily life bereft of tension and conflict. Mundane life always has its challenges. Especially in paranormal fiction, it’s mundane life rolling on in the background that lends an additional layer of urgency to the problems at hand. It’s not just the world at stake. It’s the people and things in the world that the hero cannot live without. Everyday problems should definitely complicate our supernatural ones, and vice versa.

Now back to our regularly scheduled topic. I should also mention that the first plot point is the introduction of the antagonist. The inciting incident might have involved a problem caused by the antagonist or his minions, but from a distance or in a less than full frontal assault context. The inciting incident does not seem like a direct threat at the time, because the hero’s understanding of the larger conflict and the antagonist force is incomplete. By the time he gets to the first plot point, he gets smacked in the face by the realization that the problem is not what he thought it was and there’s someone very powerful, with opposing goals, standing between him and the resolution to the crisis.

The first plot point has been called the most important even in the story. There’s no denying that without it, there is no story, at least not one that can sustain suspension of disbelief. Without this event, the hero will remain happily in Act I, like any of us would. Danger will always be something that is happening in the next town over, never endangering the Shire or the last human city of Zion.

The first plot point is when we bring the main conflict home.

More thoughts on the first plot point, my fellows?

Punctuation Love

photo credit: Jean-no, Wikimedia Commons

A song for the hardcore punctuation gangstas out there...
Set to a tune suspiciously reminiscent of California Love...

The Oxford Comma…has love for the prosody
The Oxford Comma…has love for the prosody
In the sentence
The sentence of conjunctions
In the Manual
The Chicago Style Manual
We got your commas! We got your commas!

Now let me welcome everybody to the punctuation class
Best be believin I be up to the task
The rhythm hit ya prose like a shot of patron
Pack ya bags if you think you can go it alone
We in the OC state with the serial comma
Comma hatas best be runnin home to their mamas
Punctuation pimps be separatin modifiers
Mean motherf*ckin Chicago Manual of Stylers
I been in the game for ten years makin lists up
Ever since Strunk was jackin White up
Now it’s twenty-leven and they read me and screed me
Like I believe any sh*t that they feed me
It’s all good, from Belize to Bahama
Ya story be da bomb if ya use the Oxford Comma
Throw up ya pencil if you feelin the drama
Urban Psychopomp puttin it down for
The Oxford Comma

Comma comma baby
Comma comma baby
Oxford oxford mama
Oxford Comma
Comma comma baby
Comma comma comma comma

Fresh out of detention, I be comma dreamin
Soon as I hit on the keys, the editors be screamin
Fiendin to separate my adjectives
It’s the life of a playa using American English
Without the Oxford Comma ain’t no American English
In the OC we consistent with our commas (that’s right)
In glasses and turtlenecks modifyin is what we do
We rather have too many commas than too few
Famous cause we separate anythin ya got
Let em recognize from Burbank to Bangkok
Resolvin ambiguity, it’s OC
So ya know now we don’t cater to no hatas
Playas be playas
Just give me that Oxford Comma cadence
Let me separate tha lists I have made
From the Elements of Style
Canadian and some British style
OC be what make them smile
Give me love!
Now make a list…

Uh, yeah, uh, OC in tha house, uh yeah
Adverbs, adjectives definitely in the house uhuhuh
Conjunctions uh
Hey, you know the modifiers up in here
Run-on sentences, where you at
Yeah, the comma, the comma, it always down for ya
Even AP Style wish it had the serial comma
Europe, Europe, where ya commas at? yeah
Throw em down y’all, throw em down, throw em down
Let’s show these hatas how we separate our clauses, dawg
We know its a righteous cause, y’all
Yeah, that’s right
Oxford Comma, Oxford Comma
Uh, punctuation love
Serial comma love

Story Structure Part 1 - Inciting Incident

I start this lovely Friday post with a housekeeping note. If you have noticed a comment you made on or after last Wednesday has disappeared, Blogger did it. They had a less than stellar couple of weeks, from breaking all the blogs while trying to code some advertisement into the dashboard to eating comments to random profile changes to totally freezing up behind a vague error message.

So...how you feel about Wordpress?

I'm not sure I'm even in the mood to press on with what was going to be a new series of posts on the story structure I use, but I'll see how it goes.

Notice I said "posts on the story structure I use". I like this structure. I think it works well. I think it could be extremely beneficial to people who find themselves stuck in their stories. I even think pantsers might enjoy using this simple seven-point structure as a mini-outline.

I didn't come up with any of these points all by my lonesome. They are a combination of ideas I encountered from masters (in my opinion) like Donald Maass, James Scott Bell, Larry Brooks, and some guy named Aristotle, with a stray tip here and there found adrift on the interwebs. An Internet search on any of the structural terms I'm going to use will bring up dozens if not hundreds of good articles and posts. Yet I keep running into writers who ask me to look at their work but don't know what I'm talking about when I ask about any of these fairly standard aspects of structure. So, apparently, it bears repeating.

This isn't the last word on structure. People should feel free to play with it. But I seriously recommend people try it out, even for just a short story. You might be surprised at the sense of coherent purpose this structure lends to a piece.

Over the course of this mini-series of posts, I'm going to talk about the inciting incident, the first plot point, the first pitch point, the mid-point twist, the second pitch point, the second plot point, and the aftermath. People familiar with screenwriting will recognize some of these terms more readily than novelists. This isn't because the story structure I'm presenting is particular to screenwriting, but because screenwriters (for whatever reason) aren't as adverse to breaking their stories down into components that they can then study, analyze, manipulate. All words that go against the grain of the creative muse paradigm. I say give your muse some vocabulary homework! She might like it.

So, what is this thing I call inciting incident? There are about a million clever, catchy ways to define the same idea: it's the event that starts off the bad stuff that's going to happen in the story. Everything that comes before is set-up, tasks like establishing stakes and (thanks, polymath) reader rapport. The inciting incident in The Hangover is the first scene in the trashed hotel room, their friend nowhere to be found. It's the doctor getting shot by his patient in Sixth Sense. It's the theft of the T-virus in Resident Evil. The inciting incident is the trigger for the story proper, the first time the disorder of the story touches the protagonist.

Many people, including writer Larry Brooks, might note that the inciting incident can also be the first plot point. Without going into what the first plot point is just yet, let me say that this is probably true, and yet I never combine the two. Having them distinct and separate is too useful to me. They are two different beats in a dramatic rhythm, and I think it's important for pacing in most commercial genre books that we not hold the inciting incident off until the first plot point mark.

First plot point mark? Yes, the first plot point (which I will blog about on Monday), generally occurs 20-25% of the way into the story (or about 70-90 pages into a 90,000 word novel). That point involves an evolution of the protagonist's understanding of the situation he's facing. It's hugely important, especially as the doorway from Act I to Act II. But it's tricky to introduce a problem and evolve it in the same event, and even harder to keep a reader engaged that long with nothing but set-up.

I like the rule of thumb presented by agent Kristin Nelson: the inciting incident should appear somewhere between page 30 and page 50, generally the sooner the better. Earlier than page 30 and the reader doesn't get a chance to attach to the character and understand his personal stakes before the danger and excitement starts. The pitfall there is the reader not really caring that someone is shooting at or trying to kidnap the hero. (And as Larry Brooks points out, empathy for the character is everything.) After page 50, we're at risk of seriously boring the reader with too much set-up.

Decisions, decisions. Put the inciting incident on page 30, 50, 70, 90? Legendary screenwriting teacher Robert McKee makes the decision simple. Bring in the inciting incident as soon as possible, but not before the set-up has brought the moment to its full emotional and intellectual fruition. Only you can determine -- only you can feel out that point, my fellows.

I'll wrap up with a quick aside to pantsers. I know you don't like to plan and plot and outline. That doesn't need to be what this structure is about. You can go so far as to sit down with these seven points and write out just a paragraph for each as your guide. Or you can do as little as keeping the list of structural landmarks with a sentence or two describing what each landmark does, so you can glance up at it while you're writing and make the mental note that at some point you want to get to that place, then that one, then that one. Like looking at a map of Europe and saying you want to see Paris on Monday or Tuesday and Geneva on Thursday and Rome on Saturday or Sunday and Athens sometime after that, but not having your routes pre-planned.

More thoughts on structure, my fellows?

Wednesday Roundup

Now that my Wednesdays are my Wicked & Tricksy post days, Wednesdays here will be a general popourri of notes and news and random goings on.

My Wicked & Tricksy post today, by the way, is 'Take the Networking Out of Social Networking'. Check it out and say hi. It's a party over there, and we're loving it. A lot more traffic than we'd expected. Thanks for all your support, my fellows.

In Margo News (only a leo would have a news segment named after herself), I'm distressed to learn the editor I wanted to get for the short story I'm trying to release is booked up through July and into August. That kinda makes it hard to release the story in May. My alternatives are either going with a back-up editor I have in mind or making a leap of faith that my 'mad riting skils' are enough to get me through a 9,000-word short story without any slips or typos. The back-up editor is perfectly capable, but the service comes with a lot of extras I'm not sure I'm prepared to take advantage of -- including a publication announcement on a well-known indie author site, complete with banner, and assistance with writing the story description to spec for distributors like Amazon, Smashwords, and B&N.

Speaking of my story release, you guys want to see my cover?





I'm pretty happy with it. What do you think, my fellows?

Also in Margo News, the knee is mending nicely. Thanks again for all your well-wishes. Much, much appreciated, I assure you.

So...'sup with you guys?

A Writer's Process: Swimming in Deep Water

Water frequently acts as the symbolic stand-in for the subconscious, that world under the surface where the really important, universal, primordial, sometimes terrifying stuff goes on. I think swimming in deep water, out in the open ocean, cold and immeasurably vast in comparison to me, is a good way to describe my personal writing process.

This isn't the first time --or the only way -- I've sought to describe my writing experience. I think it's important for people to know we all have different experiences, because all too often, my fellows, we will run into people who think their experience is the way it's supposed to be for everyone. Their shock and horror at finding out you are different can sow doubt that has no business being there.

My writing frenemies are usually the ones who want to tell me what my experience, my relationship to writing should be. It usually involves muses and singing angels and a sense of transcendental ecstasy.

Not so for me. Writing for me is often like trying to swim in cold, cold, deep water. Dip a toe in or leap? There are different answers on different days. Is the reluctance about fear of failure? Is that the cold deep? No, not really. The reluctance to touch the cold deep is about going under, about diving under the surface, far from the mundane world, and staying there for a long long time. When I come up, I usually bring something with me, words I've found in the depths, ideas, realizations, experiences. When I come up the mundane world has gone on its way. It's different. I'm different. It's something I usually can't talk about with other people, because they haven't had such an experience. They have no frame of reference.

Sound like a pleasant, mystical process? Then I'm not adequately conveying the sense of what it is for me to touch what lies beneath. Something bigger, greater than I am. Something older, eternal. Something more and less than human. Something that reaches out and touches back.

So much for my reputation on the Bransforum as a calm, cool crafter of words, decidedly unspiritual in my rejection of the way of the muse over the path of the craft.

I'll wrap up with a funny story I like to tell often. I wish I could recall the writer who did this, but I have always remembered his story. He was a very talented writer, I understand, but writing was not something he went to gladly. Each day, he had his wife lock him in his office with strict orders not to let him out until he had passed a certain number of pages of new writing under the door. He would change his mind and beg to be released. He would pretend to get sick. He would cry. He would curse and beat at the door. And finally, he would write. I've heard many people wonder why he bothered to write at all, instead of getting a job he liked. I don't wonder. Even when I'm pacing the shore and making excuses not to go diving, I don't wonder.

And you, my fellows? Do you wonder?

***

P.S. Does anyone know what day it is? It's Launch Day for Wicked & Tricksy! Our first week is all about the online writing community, with our kick-off being a fabulous post by Sommer Leigh.

Fake Stakes

Profuse gratitude to Steph Sinkhorn at maybe genius for the idea for this post. In last Wednesday’s post discussion on Mary Sue characters, Steph noted the annoying practice of trying to generate sympathy for a Mary Sue character by using fake stakes, pseudo-dangers.

What does that mean? First and foremost it means putting a character in danger of something that isn’t going to come anywhere near actually happening or harming her. Don’t think readers don’t notice this ploy, especially with a Polly Pureheart character constantly getting tied to train tracks but never getting hit by any trains (no matter how much we hope).

It also frequently means placing the character in unnecessary near misses, dangers that have little to do with the plot. The big one for female characters, as Steph pointed out, is the near rape. All to often, that kind of scene has no real bearing on the actual story – the scene won’t change anything and it would have been the same story without that scene.

And, of course, the character certainly won’t be suffering realistic long-term effects from her brush with danger. No PTSD, no intimacy issues, maybe just a nightmare or two requiring the comforting shoulder of the hunky love interest. Or the understanding, long-suffering female sidekick nursing the Marty Stu through his post-danger bender.

This is, I think, very much related to writers using a character as a prettier, younger, sassier, smarter version of themselves for the purpose of a little wish fulfillment fiction. Perhaps we would all be better off, when deciding our character’s fate, if we asked ourselves if we’d be making the same decision for an unattractive (i.e. not us) secondary character. You know, the ones the actual plot happens to, because they don’t have author surrogacy cushioning the blow.

I suggest looking at our stories with a few questions in mind:

-Is this peril necessary for the advancement of the plot? Not just an option but a necessity? What does this peril say about the larger story and/or theme?

-Does the peril scene do more than try to make the character seem put-upon and play on sympathy for his/her vulnerability?

-Would cutting the scene change the major events and/or the outcome of the story? (That’s actually a good question for all scenes.)

-Did the character’s own actions, decisions, and flaws lead him/her into this danger? Does it flow logically from the action-reaction-complication development of the plot? Or was it chance, coincidence, a random event?

-Did it involve the character being more clueless than a fifth-grader? Like getting into a car with a stranger or walking down a dangerous alley at midnight as a shortcut? See my post on characters that are TSTL.

-Would the character realistically be able to walk away from that situation unscathed? Not to pick on Twilight, but I’m thinking of the second movie when Bella walks down an alley to a motorcycle gang and gets onto the back of a bike to go for a ride with a thug she’s never seen before who is obviously thinking sexual thoughts about her. Then she panics and demands he stop and let her off the bike, and he does. Lucky lucky girl. Action-reaction-lack of believable consequences. I have no idea if this actually happens in the book, but it’s no more forgivable in a movie.

Thoughts, my fellows? Please, discuss amongst yourselves. :) This is a pre-scheduled post, and I might not be hanging around today. Depends on how the recovery is going. Thanks for all the good thoughts and wishes, my fellows. And remember that Monday is Launch for Wicked & Tricksy!

The Problem with Mary Sue

I highly recommend the Mary Sue Litmus Test for all fantasy writers. I do so, however, with the caveat that I know fantasy characters tend to rank higher on these tests simply because of the nature of the beast. If there was nothing fantastical about our heroes, be it superpowers or super-sharp wit, they probably wouldn't survive long running with the likes of gods and demons and the fiends of legend. There is a fine line, however, between a fantasy hero and Mary Sue in armor (or leather pants).

Sure, we've all heard about Mary Sue characters and why we shouldn't use them, but there are a lot of aspects of this character that don't necessarily occur to us without a little prodding. Today I wanted to talk about a couple of aspects of Mary Sue that I don't think get enough attention in the various litmus tests out there.

The tests delve pretty deeply into physical traits for Mary Sue characters. The questions tend to boil down to whether or not the author is using the hero/ine for wish fulfillment and vicarious kicks. It doesn't go deeply into another Mary Sue characteristic I see at least as often - the character flaws that makes us say, "Awww." The heroine loves too much. The hero is too nice a guy, too self-sacrificing, goes out of his way for others too much. She undervalues herself, has some self-esteem issues. He's the gruff guy who is emotionally buttoned up but really a softy on the inside, the kind of guy who makes bad decisions that get him into trouble because he can't stand to see an innocent (he's never met and has no connection to) suffer.

Please. Give a girl a real flaw. Make us wince a little now and again while we're reading, thinking, "Gah, I wish she'd stop getting all domineering like that. She's going to regret undermining him that way." Make him a bit of a hypocrite with zero self-awareness. Only true flaws -- not nicey nicey ones -- become the kind of vehicle for the action-reaction-complication engine that drives a plot forward. Remember that our characters need to be the cause of most of their own problems. Their flaws cause the complications that make their problems worse. Is it worth it for them to struggle against anything less than their own demons? Make it a Pride Demon, a Wrath Demon, not a Women Who Love Too Much Demon.

The second aspect of the Mary Sue isn't so much about the character but about the lack of true challenges for him. Mary Sue characters are generally either author surrogates or the ideal soul-mate. Many writers find it hard to torment these kinds of characters. We don't want them to get hurt (god forbid scarred - unless it's a sexy, roguish scar that everyone agrees adds to his rugged handsomeness) or to fail or to lose anything of real value to them (like reputation or the adoration of the sidekick and every village peasant from here to eternity). This plays out in problems with big implications that are never realized because we can't bare to have the Sword of Damocles hanging over Mary Sue's head. Thus, we introduce a problem and wrap it up neatly within 20 or 30 pages, with only the implicit confrontation with the Big Bad Evil spanning the length of the story. And, of course, these mini-problems are so easy to solve for the heroine, being that she has a PhD in particle physics, seven black belts, an operatic singing voice, and the seductive powers of Mata Hari, all wrapped up in a 22-year-old babe. In a case like this, what is there for the reader to worry about?

Never, my fellows, underestimate the power of making a reader worry.

No one worries about Mary Sue. We'd usually like to tie her to the railroad tracks ourselves.

Other surefire tip-offs a character is a Mary Sue?

Allow me to wrap this up by reminding everyone that we are JUST FIVE DAYS away from the launch of Wicked & Tricksy. I'm working to schedule guest posts (both by theme and freeform) now, so drop me a comment if you're interested. Once the site is up, the guest post guidelines page will tell people everything they need to know about guesting with us. Until then, I'm trying to get ahead of the game so we can start giving people a longer lead-time for getting their posts to us.

Many thanks to Will over at Tales of the Harbingers for plugging our project today. Check out Will's blog. He's got a lot going on over there.

And finally, it's time at last to get this knee fixed, so if I'm remiss in responding to comments through this weekend, it's cuz I'm totally high on painkillers and they took the laptop away from me for everyone's safety.

The Purpose of Backstory

Morning, my fellows. Bear with me. I feel like I have a blog challenge hangover. Can I blog anymore without the alphabetical prompt? We shall see.

So I wonder how many aspiring writers have actually stopped to think about backstory and to ask ourselves if we really understand its purpose. Some might jump to say it is a part of character development, which is true enough, I think. Some might say it provides necessary background details to understand what led up to the events of the story, which I suspect is more true for some genres than others. Fantasy writers (of many subgenres) tend to come up with huge stories that go back centuries, and events of the current story frequently have their roots at least as far back as the previous outbreak of world-ending evil. In other genres, I don't think it's as important to know what happened 10 or 20 years ago before we care about what's happening now.

However, there is an aspect of backstory that I think many of us miss, the aspect I would say is actually the primary purpose of backstory. To convey the deeper meaning of emotions the character is experiencing while facing the challenges and complications of the story. (Yes, yes, I nicked this one from Maass as well.)

But what do I mean by that? Take for instance an urban fantasy heroine who develops a talent that is incredibly useful and could be a deciding factor in a war between different vampire factions. While trying to convince the heroine that she should side with his faction, the hot male vampire (or female, you choose) makes a pass at the heroine and she devolves into a total ranting raving outburst about manipulation. On the surface that might seem a bit extreme, until we learn that a man at her workplace, a top research facility, courted and seduced her just long enough gain access to her research and claim her findings for his own research team. He got promoted, and she lost funding for her project and ended up having to put aside research on a cure for a disease a close family member suffers. We can always complicate the matter a bit more by having the vampire offer to turn the family member, making them a healthy immortal and ending their physical suffering, in exchange for an alliance with her. A new chance to help her loved one, but at the price of being manipulated again.

Note, my fellows, that there is character development involved, but not just any character development. Nothing about the heroine's struggle to get through grad school or the chauvinist mentality she faces at work. That would certainly qualify as character development, but it's not background to this story. Only what we need to know...

I would also go a step farther and agree with the assertion that backstory should be kept out of the first 50 pages (hence one of the reasons I don't play well with prologues). Why? Because those crucial pages are busy establishing the immediate stakes, introducing characters and establishing their relationship dynamics, and setting up the Inciting Incident. Premature backstory frequently results in a 'meh' reaction, like a dramatic battle scene with the hero's life at stake before we know who he is, what he might lose, and why we should care about him. Tell me in a prologue or on page 15 that the heroine got screwed over by her coworker, and I will think 'yeah, okay, so?', especially if it doesn't fit into the events of the story until page 95. Tell me on page 96, and I might have more of an 'aha' reaction.

But wait, someone in the blogosphere is saying, wouldn't waiting until that moment make it seem like the writer is just pulling the backstory detail out of a hat? If done poorly, yes indeed. However, if those previous 95 pages were written with the knowledge that the heroine has this sensitive spot, her behavior will reflect that. She might be stubborn when people try to nudge her in the direction they desire. She might be cold to the gentle flirtations of a new lab assistant. We can leave the reader stewing with these little character insights. These are moment for seeding crucial clues, but the reveal isn't necessary until the emotions the character is currently feeling in a moment of intense internal and external conflict require explanation. Only what I need to know...only when I need to know it.

Okay, so the hangover is going away, a little bit. Backstory thoughts, my fellows?

And I will close today with this lovely image:





Many thanks to Elizabeth Mueller for this blog award. She has a YA paranormal romance by the name of Darkspell coming soon and a pretty cool blog, especially for those with an appreciation for YA fiction. Check it out.