Thursday, September 30, 2010

Emulate Television or Movies in your Writing?

I feel that a lot of times, authors will be inspired by movies when they begin writing. And I understand that appeal, since a number of us probably end up watching more movies than we read books. I mean they are less time consuming, can be shared easily with other people, and usually don’t require a lot of imaginative effort. So then we as writers start to imitate what we see on the screen in our writing, we make a huge mistake.

The truth is that while books and movies may share a lot of story structure in the middle and end, the beginning of a novel is more akin to a television show. If you plan on taking story telling hints from the visual stories, then I suggest TV rather than movies. (at least in the beginning).

TV programs compete with 100s of other shows on at the same time as them, and when the break between programs comes on and people start surfing, they need to grab hold of the viewer and can’t let go. They need a compelling hook with an interesting character facing some sort of problem. For instance a ER type show might begin by showing some very unusual and possibly deadly ailment affecting a patient, a cute little 6 year old girl. Yea, everybody want to see if she makes it.

Does that sound familiar? Isn’t that pretty much what every writing tip tells you about your first page? Because just like the TV viewer, a reader browsing a bookstore is surfing through tons of books, all trying to grab their attention. If they happen to look at your book, you have only a couple lines to hook them before they move on, just like in TV.

Contrast this with movies where the viewer has spent the money on the ticket and entered the theater with their popcorn in hand. This gives the movie a chance to slowly bring the viewer into their world. They can have the opening credits scroll by in a fog while they show the setting. Then they can show the main character getting ready for work and doing their daily routine before anything interesting happens. But the only reason they can get away with this is because the viewer has already committed to the work. This just does not happen with books unless you are such a big name that readers pre-commit to you.

So when you write that opening chapter, don’t take us on a journey through the geology of your world and/or start with the character in their ordinary routine. I see that far to often in the fiction that I critique. Give us a compelling character stuck in a problem that we need to know the resolution of. Without that your book will be put back on the shelf or deleted from the editor/agent’s inbox.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Friday Flash: “Duel”


You stare at the man across from you and push your thumb over the safety of your gun. You can see in his eyes the disappointment of not taking you out earlier upon hearing the click. A bead of sweat rolls down your forehead and into your eyebrow; you feel that it will soon drop down into your eye.

The metal of the gun is getting warmer in your hands, and you feel a diamond pattern from the handle, impressing itself into your palm. The trigger slides back as you squeeze your fingers, keeping it right on the threshold between life and death.

Over to your side you see a small group of people lying on the bank’s marble floor. They have their hands on their heads and look at you with large, pleading, eyes. One woman in particular catches your eye. She’s wearing a business suit and looks at you, stares into your eyes with her head cocked to the side. You feel a pain in your stomach as you look at them lying there without any control of their fate. It all rests with you and the other man.

Your attention comes back to the man in front of you. He is shaking ever so slightly. You notice that he too has some sweat running down his face. Streams of moisture wet his cheeks. He glances over to the people on the ground, and you begin thinking. How dare you. Those are my people. You have no right to look at them.

His head snaps back to you and he steadies his gun, pointing it right at your head. You raise yours, close one eye, and stare through the sights. You aim for his forehead; at this range you couldn’t miss. You can smell the remnants of old gun powder and steel emanating from the gun, and the bead of sweat in your eyebrow starts to form a droplet.

“Put down your gun and everybody here goes home safe.” The man says. “That’s what you want right?”

You take a step towards the man.

“Stay back!”

You take another step forward.

“Stay back I said!”

The man turns his eyes to the people lying on the floor. The droplet of sweat drops into your eye and you pull the trigger. Everything is quiet for a moment. The gunshot sounded like it was miles away and everything seems to move in slow motion. You lower your hands and look at the gun, a small wisp of smoke dances out of the barrel.

You over at the man and see him lying on the ground in a pool of blood. You turn towards the woman with the business suit. She is still on the floor. She’s balling.

Authors Notes: Yes this ending was supposed to be frustrating. I don’t know who you were exactly, or the other person. I did that on purpose (Hence the pun in the title). Actually this was a very experimental piece for me and I’ve always wanted to do something in 2nd person. I do think I did a pretty good job with this, but then again I also have a pretty big ego from time to time. Please let me know what you thought, good, bad or indifferent. Thanks.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Game Theroy for Writers part II. “No you go first, I insist.”


With this post I hope to give you another tool for you to demonstrate how intelligent your characters are. As writers, sometimes we are faced with having to write in a genius when we ourselves are not that smart. So how do we create an illusion of genius without having to devise the world’s greatest battle plan or business strategy? I think one tool could again be game theory.

In games, as in life, there are some things that you just naturally don’t want to go first in. One very good example would be rock, paper, scissors. If your opponent throws rock, well you’d be pretty stupid to not throw paper.

But then there are other games where going first has a distinct advantage. A great example of that would be a wild west shootout. If you get to shoot before the other person, then you stand a decent chance (assuming you’re not a horrible shot) of winning.

So now the question is how do we know when to go first (more specifically our game theory savvy genius of a character) and when to defer when the situation is not so obvious.

The answer is lies in the usefulness of information, and the chance of ending the game on the first move. I know this seems very basic, but please stick with me on this. Yes I know rock paper scissors and duels are done simultaneously, but that’s what makes these such clear examples.

So let us delve down into this idea. In the rock paper scissors example, there is a HUGE advantage of going last because 1) You gain the knowledge that allows you to make a winning move and 2) The other person can’t win unless you make a move. So that is pretty simple. Lets look at the shootout game. In that there is a HUGE advantage in going first because 1) You already know the other person is going to shoot at you, so you already know all the the information and 2) You can win without the other person having to make a move.



Now lets do something a little less obvious. Say there are two companies, A and B. They both have a new gadget, (say an mp3 player) that they think will revolutionize the industry. Now they both know that the other is going to release one of these and that there could be some bugs or features people don’t like. So introducing the second model would have the advantage of being better technically. But if you introduce first you can gain a reputation and market share that would dominate your competitors. So what do you do?



Obviously the answer to that is complicated and we would need a lot more information to solve this analytically. But thankfully we don’t have to because we are writers and we can make whatever we want happen. If your main character is the CEO of company A, you can have him choose either strategy, and you can decide if he succeeds or fails. What makes game theory useful is that you can SHOW the CEO thinking and coming up with their strategy in an intelligent manner yourself. Have them wrestle with this idea.



The same goes for a general in a battle. Sure you can make them appear smart by having them win the battle with whatever strategy you choose. But what I think would show their intelligence more would to have them go over these two variables and try to decide what to do.



Smart characters should be shown thinking to get the effect across, same as strong characters should be shown picking up boulders. If you want to demonstrate how physically strong your character is, you show them picking the boulder; you don’t just say the boulder was moved. Same goes with smart characters. You don’t have the smart general just win the battle by surprising the enemy. You show them weighing in these factors and deciding that perhaps we know enough about the enemy where we don’t have to wait first to see what formation they arrange themselves in.



Hope this helps.

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Friday Flash: “Empathy”


This is something that I was able to write and put a little editing into. As a side note I’ve realized two things: First, that while in person I’m a very happy-go-lucky guy. I smile a lot, I whistle tunes I made up as I walk through stores, I have conversations with complete strangers. But put me in front of a computer keyboard and I morph into this dark and twisted writer…very strange. Perhaps there is a side of my trying to claw its way out. Second, I need to put pictures on this blog so I did. Anyways, enjoy.




The coffee table was covered in old mail: advertisements, credit applications, and bills hid the wooden veneer surface. Plates littered with old food sat on top of the papers, and fruit flies were making themselves at home. On the corner of the table was an empty ashtray.



Behind the table was a couch where she sat next to him. He was crying again. It seemed like he was always crying.



“Is there anything that I can get you? How about a glass of juice?” He shook his head. She shrugged her shoulders and turned back towards the television where she flipped through the channels. There was really nothing much to watch on a Saturday afternoon.



“I know you were close to her, but come on, you’re gonna to have to get over it at some point. It’s been what, three months?” He shook his head and buried it under the blankets. “Jesus Christ, look outside. It’s beautiful and we’re stuck in here watching…a home re-modeling show. We don’t even own our own place.”



He poked his head out and stared into her eyes. His face was red and the skin around his eyes were puffy and swollen. “You don’t get it do you?”



She leaned over and gave him a hug. “I’m sorry, but you’re right. I just don’t get why this is so hard for you. But I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”



“I need you to understand, and I don’t think you do.”



She watched as his breathing turned staccato; his was heaving up and down with each dis-jointed breath. “Ok, take deep breaths. I’m here for you.” She pulled him in tighter. “Take deep breaths.” She could feel him trying to fill his lungs with short, shallow, breaths; but every time he tried, his diaphragm shot up and blasted the air out of his chest, creating a void inside.



“Come on. Big deep breath, ready?” She breathed in slowly, exaggerating the sound of air passing through her lips. He followed her and he began to stabilize.



“There you go. See, doesn’t that feel better.” He nodded his head. “Do you want anything? Perhaps some juice.” He shook his head from side to side.



A week later she was returning home from work; the door to the bathroom was closed and the light on. She put her bag on the table, plopped down on the couch, and turned on the TV, dropping the day’s mail on the coffee table. That’s when she noticed the note.



Honey,



I love you, but I’ve decided to end it…



She took off towards the bathroom and flung open the door. He was lying on the floor in a pool of blood.



Later that year she gathered the strength to read the rest of the note:



…You wanted to help me so badly. You said you would do whatever I wanted you to do. But what I wanted you to do was to understand. I wanted you to say, “Yes, cry. You deserve to cry. Let it all out.” Instead all you seemed able to do was get me juice. I love you, I just wish you could have given me more empathy.

Friday Flash: “Broken Record” Revised

There really wasn’t that much I found here that I really wanted to edit which is pretty odd for me. There were a couple word choices here and there and fixing up of some grammatical things. I probably wouldn’t have bothered even posting this since it’s so much like the original but I promised it last week, so I aim to deliver. Enjoy




Mandy stared at the crack running down the compact disk that sat on her dresser. What does this mean? She looked at her face in the smudged, silver, surface of the disk. Is this how he sees me? She turned it over and ran her fingers across the screen-printed label. It was an album of love standards by her and Jake’s favorite artist.

It was just a week ago that Jake had given this to her on their one year anniversary. It was an event significant not only on the calendar but also marked the occasion of her longest relationship. He gave it to her early that magical evening, and they listened to it on their drive to and from the restaurant. That night she went to bed, looking out of her window at the stars, thanking them for her luck.

Her fingers became rigid as they dropped the disk back onto the dresser. She sat on her bed, staring at it; her body was too stiff to do anything else. What will Jake think? He’ll think I did it on purpose. She looked at her nightstand where her phone lay next to an empty box of tissues. They had talked for two hours last night. What does this mean?

She strained her arm towards her phone then pulled it back. No, I’m not going to talk to him. Not now. I can’t. She again reached out towards the phone. I need to tell him. He deserves to know.

“Hello Jake…Yes I know, I’m sorry about last night too…Well that’s sweet of you.” She smiled as he apologized to her. She didn’t remember what they fought about. “I’m sorry for getting mad at you like that.”

Mandy turned her attention back towards her dresser, and again, her body became rigid. What will he think if he ever finds out? She walked over to the dresser and picked the disk back up, looking at her reflection. The crack split her face down the middle with the smudge blurring her left half.

“You know Jake, I really like you. You’re cute, you’re nice. But I just don’t know if this can work out…Well when you put it like that it sounds bad. I just don’t think we’re right for each other in the long-term…I just think we’re wasting each other’s time if we know it’ll never work…No I don’t care about what you think…Fine then. Goodbye.”

Mandy threw her phone to the other side of the room and laid down on her bed. She held the disk to her body as she curled up into a ball. She squeezed herself tighter to shut out the pain coming from inside her chest.The longest relationship she had ever had was over. At least he doesn’t have to know. At least he’ll never find out. It doesn’t mean anything anymore.

Friday, September 3, 2010

Friday Flash: “Broken Record”

This is my first stab at posting some of my raw work. I think what I’d like to do is post what I come up with for my Friday Flash (fiction between 300 – 1000 words). Now I wrote this today at lunch mainly, so it’s not going to be prefect; but that’s ok! Because next week I’ll post another raw Friday flash, and then revise this one so you can see my process. But until then, enjoy my work.


Mandy stared at the crack running down the compact disk that sat on her dresser. What does this mean? She looked at her face in the smudged, silver, surface of the disk. Is this how he sees me? She turned it over and ran her fingers across the screen-printed label. It was an album of love standards by her and Jake’s favorite artist.

It was just a week ago that Jake had given this to her on their one year anniversary. It was an event significant not only on the calendar but also marked the occasion of her longest relationship. He gave it to her early that evening, and they listened to it on their drive to and from the restaurant. It was a magical evening.

Her fingers were rigid as they dropped the disk back onto the dresser. She sat on her bed, staring at the disk; her body was too stiff to do anything else. What will Jake think? He’ll think I did it on purpose. She looked at her nightstand where her phone lay next to an empty box of tissues. They had talked for two hours last night. What does this mean?

She strained her arm towards her phone then pulled it back. No, I’m not going to talk to him. Not now. I can’t. She again reached out towards the phone. I need to tell him. He deserves to know.

“Hello Jake…Yes I know, I’m sorry about last night too…Well that’s sweet of you.” She smiled as he apologized to her. She didn’t remember what they fought about. “I’m sorry for getting mad at you like that.”

Mandy turned her attention back towards her dresser, and again her body became rigid. What will he think if he ever finds out? She walked over to the dresser and picked the disk back up, looking at her reflection again.

“You know Jake, I really like you. You’re cute, you’re nice. But I just don’t know if this can work out…Well when you put it like that it sounds bad. I just don’t think we’re right for each other in the long-term…I just think we’re wasting each other’s time if we know it’ll never work…No I don’t care about what you think…Fine then. Goodbye.”

Mandy threw her phone to the other side of the room and laid down on her bed. She held the disk as she curled up into a ball. She squeezed herself tighter to shut out the pain coming from inside her chest.The longest relationship she had ever had was over. At least he doesn’t have to know. At least he’ll never find out. It doesn’t mean anything anymore.

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