"To thine own self be true," Polonius tells children in Hamlet, "and it must follow, as the night the day, thou cans't not then be false to any man."
The problem with this advice, of course, is that Polonius is as false a man as exists in all of literature, a conummate politician whose eye is always on the main chance, who's willing to prostitue his daughter if it means winning a bigger role in the government of Denmark.
Still, if you take his advice as it exists on the surface, it's good counsel.
One of the reasons it took me so long to really start writing was that I was embarrassed by what I wanted to write: romance. Tawdry, pulpy, emotionally adolescent romance.
When I told people that, they'd say, "You can do better than that. You're smarter than that."
But when I tried to write other genres, my heart wasn't in it, and my efforts went nowhere. The fact is, I love the sunny optismism of a genre where the promise of happy ever after is implicit. I love stories that feature people who manage to change in fundamental ways that make their lives better.
One of the lovely things about growing older is you come to realize that, regardless of where you graduated in your high school class or how high your SAT scores were, you're actually not that smart. By the time you turn sixty, you have a history that makes it clear you're really just a step up from a pet rock.
To every writer out there who's yet to achieve the lofty status of sexagenarianism, I say: give yourself a bye and just assume you're dumb enough to write whatever takes your fancy.
Live like you're sixty and write what you want.
Friday, May 22, 2015
Friday, May 15, 2015
Fiction Friday: Story vs. Premise
One of the things we studied at McDaniel College was the difference between a premise and a story.
A premise is an idea. Dictonary.com defines it as "a proposition supporting or helping to support a conclusion." It comes from two Latin words meaning "to put before." So, basically, it's the underlying idea that supports your story--and has to come before you can build your story.
A story, according to Aristotle, has a beginning, a middle and an end. Stories also have characters, settings and plots.
Your premise asks the question, "What if...?" Your story answers that question.
L.M. Montgomery got the idea for Anne of Green Gables when she saw an article in her local paper about an orphanage that mistakenly sent a child of the wrong gender to a family looking for a child to help out around the house. (The adoption business was apparently pretty fast-and-loose in those days.)
Robert Louis Stevens once drew a map to pass the time on a rainy vacation. The map
inspired Treasure Island.
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe came to 16-year-old C.S. Lewis as a daydream.
Jules Verne got the idea for Around the World in 80 Days from a newspaper advertisement offering such a trip.
A lot of my writer friends complain that it's tough to come up with ideas, but once they have an idea they can run a marathon with it.
I'm just the opposite. Premises grow like weeds in my brain (probably thrive in all that manure). It's story that's tough for me. Figuring out what kinds of characters and plot will allow my premises to blossom into full-blown stories is like trying to make fire from flint. If all I had to do was strike rocks together and generate sparks, it would be great. But there's that whole mess with tinder and twigs and small branches and making sure there's enough oxygen and.... Okay, that metaphor's getting away from me.
A premise is an idea. Dictonary.com defines it as "a proposition supporting or helping to support a conclusion." It comes from two Latin words meaning "to put before." So, basically, it's the underlying idea that supports your story--and has to come before you can build your story.
A story, according to Aristotle, has a beginning, a middle and an end. Stories also have characters, settings and plots.
Your premise asks the question, "What if...?" Your story answers that question.
L.M. Montgomery got the idea for Anne of Green Gables when she saw an article in her local paper about an orphanage that mistakenly sent a child of the wrong gender to a family looking for a child to help out around the house. (The adoption business was apparently pretty fast-and-loose in those days.)
Robert Louis Stevens once drew a map to pass the time on a rainy vacation. The map
inspired Treasure Island.
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe came to 16-year-old C.S. Lewis as a daydream.
Jules Verne got the idea for Around the World in 80 Days from a newspaper advertisement offering such a trip.
A lot of my writer friends complain that it's tough to come up with ideas, but once they have an idea they can run a marathon with it.
I'm just the opposite. Premises grow like weeds in my brain (probably thrive in all that manure). It's story that's tough for me. Figuring out what kinds of characters and plot will allow my premises to blossom into full-blown stories is like trying to make fire from flint. If all I had to do was strike rocks together and generate sparks, it would be great. But there's that whole mess with tinder and twigs and small branches and making sure there's enough oxygen and.... Okay, that metaphor's getting away from me.
Not all premises (even really cool exciting ones) turn into stories. An idea may grab me, but investigation reveals that the characters don’t have what it takes to grow and change the way they need to for a satisfying story. Or, sometimes the premise has difficulties built into it that I’m just not smart enough to get around.
Fifteen years ago I started working on a historical novel set in Minnesota lumber country in 1894. The premise was that Lucy, my young protagonist, wanted to become a photojournalist. Her dream put her at cross-purposes with the conservative young editor of the town newspaper, so I had the conflict I needed for the romance piece. The technology to print half-tone photographs on rotary presses had just been invented, so I thought I could make it work. As I did further research, though, I discovered that, for a variety of reasons, photographs didn’t replace line drawings in newspapers for nearly 40 years. I love that character, (I love Lucy!) but I’ve never figured out how to give her story a happy ending.
I could list a dozen other stories that never got off the launch pad, but you get the idea.
What’s your process for turning premises into stories? Or do you even go about it that way?
Saturday, May 9, 2015
Fiction Friday: Confessions of a Contest Whore, Part 1
Since the first of the year, I've entered Demon's Wager in five contests. Each contest costs $25 or $30 to enter, so you may be asking, "Why did she do that?"
(If, in fact, you're asking, "how can she afford to do that?" the answer is: I program computers to support my writing habit.)
Why I did that was:
1) To get unbiased feedback from strangers, people who don't know me and therefore won't cut me any slack based on friendship or knowing how long and how hard I've worked on this book.
2) To find out if my story connects with readers.
3) To toughen myself up in preparation for the real world.
4) To get a shot at getting the attention of industry professionals--agents and editors--who generally serve as final round judges.
I was doing pretty well against this list, except for item 3) until I got to the final contest.
Up to that point, the worst thing any of the first-round judges had said to me was, "I don't find devils and demons appealing, but your work is excellent and I can see it doing well in the future." Not exactly soul-crushing.
In another contest, one judge ran my pages through copyediting software and sent back the result, which pointed out every unneeded hypen and misplaced comma. Kind of nice, actually, since I don't own such software myself. I went in and fixed everything it found (including overuse of a few words that I really, really, really like).
And, two editors have requested to see my full manuscript based on the pages they read.
And then my scoresheets from the fifth contest came back. My scores were (out of 60) 59, 56 and 41. Ms. 41 had this to say: "I feel like I’ve read this story before. The idea doesn’t seem all that original."
And "Would caution the writer to look deeper, even in this light, humorous story, in order to make it less cliché. "
And "I hope that author works more on this story and finds a way to lift it out of the cliché."
Snarl. Name me one other romance novel that begins with a poker scene in Hell.
Although, if I'm honest, I have to admit the story is familiar: it's the story of Job, retold as a paranormal romance. So, um, yeah.
Okay, looks like I need more work on 3).
Graphic courtesy of Stuart Miles and freedigitalphotos.net.
Friday, May 1, 2015
Fiction Friday: Nobody Told Me There Would Be Math
I work in the Institutional Research department of a community college. One of the researchers there once told me, "People really like things that are one standard deviation off the mean."
He went on to say that things that are further from the mean are too far out for most people's comfort. Things that are right on the mean are too familiar to be interesting. The sweet spot is one standard deviation off the mean.
I entered Demon's Wager in five contests this winter. It was selected as a finalist in all five, including the Golden Heart®, the grandmother of all RWA® contests. Although I've received some valuable criticism, the overall reception has been very positive. In the Diamonds in the Desert contest, I won the paranormal category and the final round judge, Brenda Chin from Belle Books, gave me full points for "Avoiding cliche and bringing a fresh perspective to an old idea." (Final results aren't back for the other contests yet.)
My takeaway is that my co-worker is right. Demon's Wager, based on its largely positive results at contest, falls right at that standard deviation. It's a little weird, but not too weird.
So my question to you is: what is it about your work that pushes it that one standard deviation off the mean?
I entered Demon's Wager in five contests this winter. It was selected as a finalist in all five, including the Golden Heart®, the grandmother of all RWA® contests. Although I've received some valuable criticism, the overall reception has been very positive. In the Diamonds in the Desert contest, I won the paranormal category and the final round judge, Brenda Chin from Belle Books, gave me full points for "Avoiding cliche and bringing a fresh perspective to an old idea." (Final results aren't back for the other contests yet.)
My takeaway is that my co-worker is right. Demon's Wager, based on its largely positive results at contest, falls right at that standard deviation. It's a little weird, but not too weird.
So my question to you is: what is it about your work that pushes it that one standard deviation off the mean?
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