What I Learned at World Fantasy Week: Double Jeopardy

Grand dame author Chelsea Quinn Yarbro hit the nail on the head when she said:

There are two hooks that need to be felt for the reader to really buy into the story. The intellectual hook, and the emotional hook.

She went on to explain (I'm paraphrasing here because my notes aren't this detailed) that the intellectual hook is the plot stuff. The things we want to know because an interesting question has been raised. The emotional hook is the stuff we need to know. The things that we've become emotionally invested in and what to see how it turns out.

If these two things aren't in the first fifth of the novel, then odds are you won't hold on to your reader. You might keep them reading, because one or the other is compelling enough in their own right, but you won't get them the same way. They won't be thinking about your book long after they've finished it. Or talking about it with everyone they know.

(This is me rifting on this now)

Books that really wow us have both these things. You care deeply about a character and just have to know how their problem turns out. I read a book on the plane over that did exactly this. Peak, by Roland Smith, a fantastic story about a 14-year-old boy who gets into trouble for climbing skyscrapers and is sent to live with his father, the world's best mountaineer, who happens to be about to launch an expedition to the summit of Mt. Everest. Kids climbing Everest. How can you not get hooked by that?

Besides a fantastic intellectual hook -- does he make it to the summit? It has a great emotional hook -- what will it cost him to reach the summit?

Shifter 2 gave me problems in the first few drafts because the emotional hook just wasn't there. Nya's problems were interesting enough, but you could have easily set the book down and come back later. That doesn't bode well for having a strong emotional hook. When you need to know what happens, you don't put the book down. A lot of my revisions have been to develop that emotional hook so you need to know what happens with Nya and how she gets out of it. It's already a better book and my editor has barely gotten her hands on it.

Lots of you are probably diving into NaNo this month, and I don't want to drag anyone down by suggesting they think too much when they need to write (fingers must fly for NaNo), but it might be worth spending a little time thinking about your two hooks. Having two things driving your narrative gives you double the opportunity for great storytelling. If one hook isn't cutting it for some reason, you have the other to fall back on. You can even play them against each other for super tight tension.

Intellectual hooks are pretty easy. A great story question, a neat twist, a fascinating premise. You've offered the reader something they haven't seen before (or haven't seen in this way before) and you keep them on their toes, always guessing what will happen next. It'll be plot related, since figuring out the puzzle is an intellectual activity.

Emotional hooks are tougher, especially in plot-driven stories. In order to ping the emotion, readers need to care about the protag. If you aren't sure how exactly to do that, starting with universal themes can help. A child in trouble, a lost love, grief, etc. Things that everyone can relate to and emphasize with. Once you've identified that, work your own twist into it so it fits your story and helps tell the tale you want to tell.

Chances are, your intellectual hook will be your external conflict, and your emotional hook will be your internal conflict. Depending on your story, (plot driven or character driven) you might be developing one over, since we tend to obsess over plot in our plot-driven stories and characters in our character-driven stories. So take a little time and look to see how you can develop the other side of your story into something as strong as your main narrative. A thriller with characters we love will only be more thrilling. A literary journey that keeps us guessing will only suck us in more.

It might even help when you go to write those evil queries. You'll have two key elements to use as a foundation, and know exactly what you need to say to get those hooks across.

I Think I'm Caught Up!

I feel behind there for a week in answering comments, but I should be caught up now. Thanks for being patient with my crazy schedule. (and don't worry, this doesn't count as today's post)

What I Learned at World Fantasy Week: Changing Scale

World Fantasy was great, and as I do every conference/convention, I came away with some interesting insights on the writing process. So this week, I'll share some of those.

Today comes from an unlikely source. I was sitting in artist John Picacio's session, learning about how he illustrates his covers (very cool by the way). He said something that really resonated with me.

John started off in architecture, just like I did. He said in architecture, you're taught to create in different scales, so you never get so enamored with your design it keeps you from developing and improving it. You do rough sketches, small models, blueprints, renderings, large scale models, etc. It made me wonder if this would also work with writing.

One common writing pitfall is that writers can get sucked into their worlds or their words and find it hard to change anything once it's on the page. But what if you changed scale? Looked at it from macro and micro angles, studied the details as well as the overall plot, looked at the characters as a whole as well as individuals. Is this something that could help keep writing looking at the story and not falling in love with one small aspect of it?

If the macro story is all you can think about, what if you zoomed in and looked at the micro aspects. Personal traits of a character, how a neighborhood runs, a motivation, a secret. Explore the minutia and see if anything shakes loose. Don't worry about the big picture anymore, but let your mind wander and see what the details take you. Narrowing your focus could help you see aspects you hadn't thought about before, and let you learn more about a character or a place that was just a placeholder before.

If the micro stuff is where you lose yourself, maybe zoom out and look at the bigger picture. Paint with big brushes and broad strokes and get a more solid sense of how pieces connect. Explore the world, the overall plot, the far reaching consequences. Look at the goals and dreams of minor characters. You might find yourself learning how those micro details fit into the larger story, and even see places your story can go you hadn't thought about before.

I think this could also work in the early plotting stages when you're trying to determine stakes. What scale are your stakes at? Small scale? Large scale? A little of both? Can they scale depending on who you talk to? Maybe the stakes are small for one character, but huge for another, which could present some interesting conflicts down the line. Perhaps from one angle, the stake seem insurmountable, but from another they're more manageable, and that's a direction the protag needs to head in.

Same with character goals and motivations. What's important to them on the small scale? Day to day wants that might urge them to act, or even get them into trouble on the large scale. What are their large scale goals? The things they dream about but don't expect to have happen any time soon. Can the small scale goals of one character trigger a large scale goal of another? Do any goals intersect in any way along this scale? Characters might find themselves in tandem at certain times, and at odds other times based on the level of goal and how much they want it.

Like any good building, a story is full of pieces that make up its whole. The smallest details add to the overall facade. Next time you're plotting, try changing scale and see if that lets you see things in a new way. And keeps you from getting stuck.

On Top of the World

I'm writing this from San Jose, CA in my lovely hotel room at the Fairmont Hotel. I'm at World Fantasy this weekend, and in just a little while Ill be heading downstairs for the first day of fun.

Since I have internet access, I'll be updating and talking about the convention while I'm here over at The Healing Wars blog, so head on over and take a peek.

I'll be back here gabbing about that word stuff on Tuesday.

Flipping Out

When we're working on a scene, we're almost always thinking what the protag will do and how they'll get out of it. This is just good plotting, but sometimes it can lead directly to the outcome you have planned and miss opportunities for wonderful situations.

I was working on a scene for Shifter 2 yesterday and found myself in this exact situation. The general gist of the scene was (vague here so as not to give anything away), Nya has to get out of something, and fights a bunch of bad guys to do it. She'll get away, but it'll be a tough fight. Since I know she'll get away, I had her acting to achieve that goal. Oddly though, it felt wrong, too easy, rather flat, something was off. Then it hit me...

This wasn't about her trying to get out, it was about the bad guys trying to stop her from getting out.

Once I flipped sides and looked at the scene through the bad guy's perspective, it all fell into place. They have this girl, trying to get out of X. What would they do to stop her? What elements do they already have in place to handle such things? It was easy to create the obstacles Nya had to face and overcome to get out of this predicament. And it worked so much better. (just to be clear, I didn't actually write the scene form their perspective, just thought about what they'd do to stop her and then had her encounter those things)

It's almost Halloween, so let's see how Bob and the zombies would handle this.

Bob, Jane, and Sally are trapped in a Denny's, with zombies all around them. They need to get out before they're the ones on the lunch menu.

Traditionally, I'd examine the scene, look for potential obstacles and write them in.

Zombies are covering all the exits. They're bashing themselves against the doors and windows and the glass is going to break any time now. Sally and Jane are arguing, making it hard to focus or get everyone to work together.

I might even think about bad things that can happen.

They're low on ammo. The kitchen is on fire. Jane is injured.

Let's make it even worse (because that's where the fun is). What if these particular zombies are not the kind Bob has been encountering all along. Several of them came across a secret government safe house where test subjects for a new brain enhancing serum were being closely monitored. The zombies ate them, and now they're smart zombies.

These zombies aren't going to just whack their heads on the door until it breaks. They'll have a plan. This will certainly change how Bob acts, but even so, it'll still be along the lines of what Bob has to do to get out, and I'll most likely think about things that Bob can do to achieve that ultimate goal of getting away.

I have all these problems and the scene will no doubt play out like this: Zombies try to get in, Bob deals with each problem as it occurs. He runs out of ammo, searches for other lethal items, maybe even uses the fire to kill enough zombies to escape. He might be surprised at the new and inventive ways the smart zombies are trying to get him, but he'll deal with them same as always, because that's what he does. Since I know Bob is going to get out, it's more a matter of "How is Bob going to use these pieces to get out of there?" Because of that, there's no real tension that he isn't going to get out of there.

But let's flip it.

Think about it from the zombie's perspective. What will these smart zombies do to get and eat Bob and the others? Shove dumpsters against the windows so they can't get out? Create a situation where the only possible exit is into a trap they've set? Sacrifice the regular zombies to send the fire deeper into the restaurant and force Bob out?

Suddenly it's not just about Bob getting away. It's about Bob having to overcome obstacles that aren't so easy to guess the outcome. Failing here is a real possibility, so the tension is jacked high. Readers don't know what will happen next because anything could.

It's the same situation, but you're not plotting for the win, you're plotting for the loss, and then letting Bob win anyway, because he earned it by figuring out how. And by thinking as the bad guy for a bit, you're not picking the easy way out. You're creating tough situations that will require some fancy footwork to overcome.

So don't go easy on your protag. Really get inside the heads of those bad guys and think about what they'd do to get what they want. You might find yourself saying, "there's no way my protag can get out of that," but do it anyway and make them work for it. Because the harder you have to think, the harder your protag has to think, the more unpredictable the scene will be.

And that'll keep the reading thinking, "wow, this is a great book."

Re-Write Wednesday: Jigsaw Wizard

Sometimes a story goes through several drafts before you figure out the best way to tell it. Problem is, you often end up with multiple drafts, and there's good stuff in every one. Finding a way to piece together all the best parts and still make the story feel cohesive can be a challenge.

Regular readers of the blog will sense a list coming, and they're right. Lists can be incredibly helpful at giving you an overall look at your story, especially if it's in several pieces. This could be a great place to start figuring out which pieces contribute to your core conflict and which don't. Hit the critical details in all the scenes you plan to use and see how they flow together. Create a one-line summary that describes the plot movement so you can see how they connect to the overall story arcs.

It can also be helpful to create a new file and start pasting in all the scenes you want in the order you want them in. The story won't make a ton of sense since the scenes will likely be disjointed, but they'll be in place and give you a better sense of how they flow and work together (and let you see where you might need to write more or cut back). For those using the Three Act Structure, this is quite helpful in determining where you major set pieces fall, and if the right scenes are in the right places. You might find you have too much set up and not enough for Act Three (or vice versa), and will need to adjust.

Your Darlings

In multiple drafts, it's easy to have favorite moments you want to include, and you work hard to get them to fit. But just because it's a great scene doesn't mean it's great for the final story or plot. When I'm trying to fit a favorite bit into something I'm writing, the difficulty fitting it is a big red flag that it might not be the right thing. Forcing a scene almost always ends with a big stumbling block for the reader as soon as they hit it. It doesn't flow, it doesn't quite make sense, it doesn't really advance the story.

This doesn't hold true for every tough bit to fit, and once in a while, I come up with a seriously cool way to make it fit I wouldn't have thought about otherwise. But I'll be honest and say this is rare. If you find yourself beating your head against a scene, it might be time to file it away and save it for another story.

What to Look For to See if Your Scene Fits:

Does it advance the core conflict in some way?
Does it offer new and relevant information?

That Looks Right, But...

Another common snag in piecing together drafts is what I like to call revision smudge. Those bits that get left behind that reference something no longer in the story. You changed which character was in the scene with your protag, you changed the location, the goal shifted slightly or the stakes altered. Reading these scenes feel "right," but when you look closely, you realize that part of the book is gone.

Things to Look For That Could Be Revision Smudge:

Are there any leftover names or details that don't belong?
Is anything referenced that is no longer there, or has changed?
Does the protag still want the same thing?
Are the stakes the same?
Does the antag still want the same things? Has their plan changed?
Are there extra characters that aren't anywhere else now?
Is the information revealed new, or has it been added elsewhere?

Didn't They Say That?

Description and backstory are two more sneaks that cause trouble. A scene that introduced a character in chapter one might now be in chapter five, and readers already know who they are. Do a Find on each character's name (or a key detail of backstory) and see what info you reveal first, then every other time that name is mentioned. This can be time consuming, but you'll know exactly where you say what about a character and I've caught many a repetition this way.

More Tips

Revising chronologically also helps see the story as it unfolds, since you can easily flip back and double check details. And just having read it, the actual text will be fresh in your mind. You might even make an easy-to-check list of things you changed that need to be edited overall.

Piecing together multiple drafts can be tricky, but a little pre-planning can save you a lot of time and effort.

What's at Stake?

Editorial Anonymous said something that stuck with me this morning.

"...ask yourself if in fact you are feeling the high stakes of the story you've written, or if you've only put the stakes into the plot without putting them into the telling."

As a genre writer, stakes are pretty important to me. While internal character growth is something I also strive for, in fantasy, if the stakes aren't high it usually disappoints the reader. Fantasy = high stakes. We've been conditioned to think that since Frodo first tossed the ring into Mt. Doom. (Probably even earlier to be honest)

I have a few stories languishing in my files that I really like, but haven't been able to make work yet because they don't yet have an answer to the "who cares?" question. Why should the reader care about this person and this problem? There are indeed stakes, but as EA mentioned, the stakes are plot related, not character related. They work from a cold, flat plot perspective, but even I don't care if the problem is solved or not beyond a "ooo that's cool" interest. It's all mechanics, and no soul. Until I figure out a way to make the stakes personal, to make me care, those stories will stay languished.

I do a lot of critiques for a wide variety of very talented authors. The most common critical comment I make is about the stakes. What does this matter? Why should the reader care? I can see the stakes there in the story, but for the stories that aren't quite working yet, that's usually why. (at least for me). The stakes are functional, nothing more.

As you create your stakes for your characters, don't just look at the plot side of things. Think about how those stakes affect your protag. Do you care about this character and what happens to them, or are you just running them through a gauntlet of problems to illustrate a plot idea? If it doesn't affect you to put them in danger and cause them trouble (either hurt you or make you giggle in glee), then why should a reader feel any more emotion?

If you feel it, then the characters will feel it. If the characters feel it, the reader will feel it. And then they're care about what's at stake.