Torturing Your Characters

Through my years of writing, I’ve read that it is important for my characters to suffer in some way so that they can grow and become what they need to be in their minds and hearts. I typically do not like to torture my characters too much. I’m as soft in my writing as I am in real life.

Along my journey, I came up with a heroine that was put into an American classroom as a child and spoke nothing but Russian. Moving at a young age had a big impact on how she grew up and moved into the American culture, forgetting her Russian past, despite her parent’s disappointment. To prove her merit, she had to face danger and keep it to herself.

My first sell had a hero with panic attacks, due to an attempt on his life. My second sell had a hero, a rancher that struggled with the wolf entering the county and eating livestock. My third sale had a hero that came back from being a surgeon in the Civil War, recovering and searching for purpose in life.

I had a heroine that lost her family and suffered over selling the family’s vacation home, the emotions on her sleeve affected every move she made. I had a heroine that placed herself in danger in the 1860s because she naively thought she could survive in a man’s world.

But how much is too much? How much can a reader take without being lifted from the page and out of the story? I was told by an editor not to put my heroine on an anti-anxiety pill, even for a short time. Then I had a villain who was mentally ill. He was a bad guy, which seems to be more acceptable, I guess.

I began writing a story about a heroine that had a father with multiple sclerosis and a brother with low functioning autism. Hey, between my family and my job, I know these topics well, but I didn’t enjoy writing about it. Even though it’s said to write what you know, some things can be too close to home.

Lately I’ve been thinking about “torturing” my characters, because I started thinking of an acquaintance I met when I was in college who suffers with bulimia. I thought maybe a supporting character could have bulimia, but when I researched the subject, it was like opening a Pandora’s Box.  For that matter multiple sclerosis can be the same way. Yet, I know there is at least one heroine in a romance novel who has suffered with breast cancer, but I heard it was hard getting the book out there in the first place.

Okay, your turn. How much is too much?

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Archetype vs. Cliche

There are some very interesting discussions going on in the comments of this post at Dear Author on “Slut Shaming” in novels written by women. (I’ll get to my actual topic soon, I promise; wait for it!) I recommend that if you write romance or stories with female characters you take a look at that post. It’s thought provoking and some of the comments are even more so, but it’s not what I want to talk about. Rather it prompted me to think, as she was describing some of the things that bother her in romance novels – misogynistic or not, that’s lazy writing.

The characters Jane of Dear Author was describing felt like cliches to me: the hero’s ex-wife who we know is unworthy of him because she sleeps around; the female antagonist who we know not to trust because she flirts with anything in trousers; the co-worker we know is bad at her job because her skirt is too short and she shows too much cleavage to be professional.

Why was my first thought to label those characters with the pejorative “cliche” rather than the more neutral “archetype”? All characters fall, essentially, into archetypes, and really these are just archetypes I’ve seen a lot and don’t particularly enjoy. That doesn’t mean these characters are unrealistic, I’ve met all three of them in real life, but it does mean I roll my eyes when I meet them on the page. A good writer can still make me enjoy those characters, however it takes something special to get me past my initial distaste.

But … I don’t roll my eyes when I read another uber-competent tight-lipped hero – though lord knows that is a character that has been done to death. I just LIKE that cliche. That particular archetype doesn’t immediately raise my feminist hackles in the ways that the characters in the previous paragraph do.

As a new writer it’s really easy to write in shorthand, especially for secondary characters. A minor, but crucial, character in the first chapter in my WIP is a greedy, sexually harassing partner at a law firm. I’ve known people just like him in real life, but will that save him from a reader labeling him a cliche instead of an archetype? I don’t think so. I think it will depend on how well I write him and what baggage and preferences a reader brings to the experience. I can’t control the latter, but I can write the hell out of him and make sure that I’ve thought carefully about the pros and cons of every character trait I put on the page.

What about you? Are there archetypes you just can’t stand (or can’t get enough of)? Do you carefully interrogate every trait you give your characters for its cliche potential?

 

Anticipation

Carly Simon’s song, “Anticipation,” was featured in a ketchup commercial in the ’70s. Remember that? The ketchup flowed oh so slowly, but it was totally worth waiting for. I can still remember her sultry voice over singing “Anticipation” while the actor on the commercial waited with watering mouth for the ketchup to finally reach his hamburger.

This past summer, I attended Jay Asher’s talk about Anticipation at the SCBWI international conference. His basic point was that as we writers create tension within our stories, anticipation is a great way to heighten that tension. After all, if a scary monster just shows up and says “boo,” it’s not nearly as scary as if the character hears a noise, goes to investigate, finds nothing, worries and frets and works herself up for a good scare, and THEN the scary monster shows up.

I love anticipation in novels. It keeps me reading, because I want to find out what is really going on. I want to know if my suspicions are correct, or if the scary thing is something else. (I’m just using scary as an example. Anticipation can apply to happy, joyous, momentous, nervous, and life or death moments as well.)

One way to increase the anticipation of events is to slow down. My first drafts usually barrel straight through without slowing down, so when I revise this is one element I am particularly aware of. Let the scene or chapter unfold gradually and include bits that will build the anticipation. The character might wonder what that noise was. Or worry about what kind of trouble she might in with the headmistress. Or the best friend saw something and is telling the main character about it.

Another device, depending on how you tell the story, could be switching points of view. Some of my favorite authors use multiple points of view in succession, and just at the cliffhanger moment, a chapter with character A ends and we move on to a chapter told from character B’s point of view, leaving the anticipation of finding out what happens to A still in place. I usually curse the author for torturing me, but I keep reading, of course.

Ways NOT to use anticipation: When you have a scene filled with cryptic images and lots of anticipation, only to have the character awake and realize it was only a dream, the reader will feel cheated. Or if the character is building up in his head a horrible, horrible consequence, and it comes to nothing, again the reader will feel cheated. You can’t just include anticipation for anticipation’s sake. If that ketchup never reaches the hamburger, it doesn’t work.

Anticipation doesn’t always have to be very overt. It can be indicated by a tiny mannerism. For example, you set up early in the novel that character A has a nervous mannerism of twisting her wedding ring around when she’s worried. Then throughout the novel, if she’s twisting her wedding ring, we know she’s worried. That is a tiny indication that we should be anticipating something. All the better if the ring twisting is directly connected to something to do with her marriage, as the symbolism will just strengthen the anticipation. In Harry Potter, his scar burned every time Voldemort was near. Talk about anticipation! The reader knew immediately that a big something was about to take place. And kept reading.

As the holidays approach, we can all remember the anticipation we had as children. It seemed that Christmas took forever to finally arrive. I spent many moments shaking presents and trying to guess what was inside. So much so that my mom put in beans and trinkets and other things just to throw me off track. The anticipation of Christmas morning was almost more enjoyable than the actual moment itself.

Of course, not every child has a happy Christmas. Or birthdays. Sometimes the anticipation is the happy part and the reality is the tragic part. That makes for great stories. This kind of emotional anticipation and the failure of reality to match up is the ultimate tension.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to. . .oh, what was that noise? Why are the dogs barking so frantically? Find out in our next episode!

 

What’s That Tune?

I was in the car with my husband the other day and Carrie Underwood’s latest song came on the radio, Blown Away. Now I’ve got to confess right here in front of everyone, “I don’t listen to music much.” As a matter of fact, it’s a joke in my family. One day while in the car I asked, “Who is Lady Antebellum? Is she new?” My poor husband just shook his head and sighed. Yeah, I know now, it’s a group. So you’ll understand my revelation that country music is a great template for the emotion in a synopsis.

In just 252 words—not including the chorus—Carrie Underwood tells the whole emotional story.

Dry lightning cracks across the skies (This sets the mood. You know something bad is going to happen.)

Those storm clouds gather in her eyes (You know things aren’t going well for her.)

Her daddy was a mean old mister (She doesn’t get along with Daddy.)

Mama was an angel in the ground (Ah, poor kid is stuck in a house with a nasty man and no mother to help her. And it begs the question? Did Daddy have something to do with putting her in the ground?)

The weather-man called for a twister (trouble is on the way.)

She prayed blow it down (She wants out of there.)

Great Opening. The tone is set, the characters are introduced, and we know something is going to happen. It’s just a matter of boiling it down to its very essence.

Shatter every window ’til it’s all blown away, (Now we know how much she wants her life to change. She’s willing to give up her home. That’s huge. No matter how bad it is, people hesitate to give up home.)

Every brick, every board, every slamming door blown away

’til there’s nothing left standing, ((She not only wants out. She wants her past gone for good and ever.)

Nothing left of yesterday (This hints back to Mama. What happened to her?)

Every tear-soaked whiskey memory blown away, (Now we know why things were so bad.)

The plot thickens and the atmosphere of the story is set. We have more of an insight into her life and how bad it was.

There’s not enough rain in Oklahoma,

To wash the sins out of that house,

There’s not enough wind in Oklahoma, (These three lines deepen the inner need to get away.)

To rip the nails out of the past (Now I’m really wondering not only what happened to Mama, but what else went on that turned her away from her father and home.)

Shatter every window ’til it’s all blown away (Okay, this is a song so we’re going to let her repeat a little, but it also ups the emotion.)

Every brick, every board, every slamming door blown away (This shows the turmoil she went through.)

’til there’s nothing left standing, (She not only wants him gone, but all the memories and reminders of him and her life after her mother’s death.)

Nothing left of yesterday (Things were so bad she wants it ripped from Oklahoma and her life.)

Every tear-soaked whiskey memory blown away, (This give us a hint of part of the reason for the strife.)

I know you also need character names and the actual plot in the synopsis, but take a look at country songs for ways to insert emotion and conflict. After all, they are the driving force behind a story. And isn’t that why we listen to music? To feel good, sad, happy, patriotic, or seasonally motivated.

Do you have a template or system to writing a synopsis?

 

Pacing: A Primer

I’ve been thinking about pacing a lot lately, as I’m revising my current work in progress, and pacing is always something I completely forget about in the first draft stage. Pacing is a really important element of writing fiction, and one many writers don’t really understand. So I decided to try to break it down.

Pacing to me refers to the speed of the action of the plot. If you think of that standard plot arc we’re all taught in school, the portion that takes the longest is the rising action. Once you reach the climax, the action quickly resolves and ends. That’s a truncated explanation of pacing. Pacing affects each scene as well as the entire plot. Here are some ways pacing can go wrong and what to do about them:

Problem #1: Too much backstory. Backstory is just what it sounds like—things that happened to the characters before the current story begins. Beginning writers notoriously include way too much backstory, which slows down the action of the story you’re trying to tell. Sometimes, though, the backstory is pretty important to understanding where the character is emotionally or physically. The trick is to balance these needs.

• I would venture to say that you ought never to start your story with backstory. Get right into the current story. You can include important backstory bits as necessary.
• Do not stop the action to give a long flashback or piece of information from the past. Backstory works best when woven into the current action.
• Leave out all backstory in the first draft, then see if things make sense to your initial readers. If so, don’t even bother putting any of it in. If first readers don’t get a character’s motivation, for example, and a little backstory will help, then find a way to include it unobtrusively.

Problem #2: Rushing through a scene. This is something I am guilty of, especially in first drafts. If a scene is important enough for the story, it’s important enough to flesh out. I often find that I have summarized a scene rather than actually let it take place on the page.

• One indicator of a rushed scene is one made up entirely of dialogue. You can slow down such a scene by giving the characters “beats” of action interspersed with the dialogue. You can also show the reader the main character’s thoughts, as well as the reactions of all the characters to what is being said.
• Another indicator of rushing through a scene is the feeling a reader gets of not knowing where they are or what’s happening. Be sure to give your reader enough scene setting (without stopping the action for long paragraphs of description) to feel grounded and present in the scene with the characters.

Problem #3: A scene that moves too slowly or feels like nothing is happening. These can be scenes that are entirely dialogue, but they might also contain lots of moments in the character’s head while she’s thinking and deciding what to do next. Or they might be scenes full of backstory (see above) or full of description with no action. They might just be transitional scenes to get the characters from one scene to another.

• Make sure every single scene in a story moves the story and the plot forward. A scene with character’s sitting around trying to decide what to do next might be realistic, but not interesting to read. I will often write these scenes in the first draft because I need them to understand where I’m going, but I cut them entirely in revision.
• Avoid long descriptions, especially of what characters are wearing or their facial expressions, height, build, etc. One personal characteristic can give us much more insight into a character than what color her hair is. Does she bite her nails incessantly? Also avoid long descriptions of confusing places, as it just serves to confuse readers. If the character is trapped in a giant castle, we only need to see the immediate stone walls dripping with moss, not the entire layout of the castle.

Problem #4: Starting the story in the wrong place. This often involves starting with a bunch of backstory, most of which you can usually eliminate in revision. But it can also involve not really knowing where your story truly starts.

• The best advice I’ve received as far as the beginning of a story is to start on the day everything changes for the character. But even this can be tricky. You want to give enough indication of what the character’s “normal” is before you get to what changes.
• I used to always hear this advice: start with action. But more and more, I am finding that is not good advice. Yes, you don’t want to start with boredom, either, but often an action scene to open a story only serves to confuse the reader. They don’t know the characters yet, so they don’t care what happens in this death defying moment. First get the reader to care about your character.
• Avoid starting with dialogue. Like action openings, we don’t know who’s talking, where they are, or what’s going on.
• On the flip side, don’t spend so much time grounding us that we get bored.
• I like books in which within the first two to three pages I see the main character and get a sense of who he/she is, have a sense of where we are, and can understand what the character’s conflict revolves around and why that is important to him/her.
• Avoid beginnings that are dreams and then the character wakes up. The reader feels cheated.
• Avoid beginning a story and then going back to a flashback to explain how we got here. (It sometimes works in movies, but only if done really well.)

Problem #5: An ending that drags on too long. Once the character has resolved whatever the conflict was, you can pretty much end the story. You don’t need to tie up everything in a tidy pink bow.

• Leave the reader with a sense of what the character’s life will be like now, the “new normal” and that the character will be okay. Unless of course, you are writing horror or something.
• Allow the reader enough uncertainty that we can imagine for ourselves what might happen if there were a next page.
• Don’t try to explain every lesson learned or every plot point. Trust the reader to get it.

This is just a small portion of the revision that involves pacing. There are those murky middles, the endless horrific events problems in thrillers, and more. But if you follow these few guidelines, you’ll be well on your way to better pacing.

And don’t forget the amazing Plot Master Class with Cheryl Klein that will be held in Salt Lake City on November 17, sponsored by the Utah/southern Idaho region of SCBWI. More information can be found here: http://www.scbwi.org/Regional-Chapters.aspx?R=49&sec=Conf.