Canadian science fiction author Karl Schroeder gave us plenty of direction on outlining novels at his recent FenCon writing workshop. But as some of us know from experience, even with an outline, things can get crazy in the midst of writing a book. So Schroeder also gave us tips for finding our way through the dark forest of the novel -- and where the trouble spots lie, from beginning to end.
“They can certainly go wrong as you’re getting started,” Schroeder said. “One (way) that happens all the time -- it’s happened to me -- is great idea, no plot. The cool idea is not the story.
Don’t I know that, from having a file of story ideas that never quite got off the ground. I’ve found that, following advice from a previous FenCon workshop leader to delineate clearly the major character roles -- protagonist, relationship character, and antagonist -- was often enough to get enough to get the story back on track. (See “Bones of a novel,” parts I and II, October 12 and October 19, 2011.)
Another problem is a too-rapid outline, that is, an outline without enough material for a full-length work.
Or its opposite -- an outline or draft becoming unwieldily large. In this case, we may have succumbed to what Schroeder called “the Tolkien thing” -- writing the entire history of our story’s world before actually starting the story. In this case, the “history” takes on a life of its own that prevents making fundamental changes, no matter how necessary.
More terrifying, if possible, than bad beginnings are the “scary middles,” the places where writers discover they’ve “thrown a whole lot of balls in the air and can no longer keep it straight.” These can happen when an author finds his outline too cursory to juggle multiple issues such as story arcs for secondary characters and the overlapping subplots.
When that happens, Schroeder warned, the writer must be prepared to shift gears from high to low, outlining scene by scene.
Even after working through the beginning and middle, the ending of a novel comes with its own set of potential problems. One of those is a novel that, although otherwise all right, reaches its resolution too quickly. Having subplots can prevent a climax that occurs too quickly by giving the writer alternate ways to explore his themes.
But again, beware of the opposite problem of having too many characters, especially if you find yourself with multiple characters who have the same basic function, for instance, having two trickster characters. Remember, even Tolkien finally saw the need to reduce the number of hobbits in his stories.
For more tips from on novel writing from Schroeder’s FenCon workshop in Dallas, see “The myriad paths to a novel,” September 24, 2012, and “The myriad paths to a novel, park II,” October 8, 2012.
And for more on Schroeder and his writing, see his blog at
www.karlschroeder.com/.
(Next Monday -- well-published authors discuss the perils of the publishing industry.)
Showing posts with label Karl Schroeder. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Karl Schroeder. Show all posts
Monday, October 22, 2012
Monday, October 15, 2012
Wordcraft -- Mapping the mind of your story
It was the first ever writers’ conference at Collin College in Plano, and I wasn’t sure what to expect. Writing friend Billye Johnson tempted me to attend. Besides being a member of the same novel critique group, Billye is a creative writing instructor at Collin. So when I saw she was leading a workshop on “mind mapping” at the conference, I signed up.
Confession: I had no idea what mind mapping was. But I grab new techniques for my bag of writing tricks the way more normal people grab discounts for the State Fair.
Mind mapping, Billye demonstrated, is an outlining method. Not one specifically for outlining stories, but for outlining information.
I’m including a diagram from wikimedia to illustrate this post, because it’s a lot neater, not to mention more colorful than the one in my notes. (The next time I attend a workshop of Billye’s, I’ll come with a fistful of colored markers.)
The core of the mind map is a concept, phrase or image.
You can map with computer software. But in line with science fiction writer Karl Schroeder’s concept of “exomind” from last Monday -- a physical construct that speaks to us -- I’ll talk about the map as if it’s a doodle on paper.
Beginning with the possibility of writing a nonfiction article, Billye chose a concept from those suggested by workshop members -- ageing. With this word at its core, branches extended to concepts related to aspects of aging -- finances, medical issues, religious issues, social issues, and others.
When we followed the “social issues” branch from the core term “ageing,” we found separate branches for concepts such as “self-image” and “wrinkle.” (I won’t deny this
came from an older member of the group.) Also, “dating” and “activities”, and “finances” and “retirement”. When Billye grouped them, potential articles ranged through cosmetic surgery/techniques, to travel and resorts, to online dating for seniors. Suddenly, there are dozens of article possibilities, all dealing with the core issue of “ageing.”
How about applying mind mapping to fiction? What’s your protagonist’s defining characteristic? “Altruism,” a workshop member suggested. But how do you demonstrate that quality?
Mind map branches leading from the concept of “altruism” included “generosity,” “idealism,” “loyalty,” “sacrifice,” and “vulnerability.” Toss a few examples of those into your story, and you’ve got your character’s chief trait.
And for the all-important antagonist, think of an opposite for each concept. Or, to make things really fun -- and your protagonist more complex and conflicted -- throw an “opposite” trait into her mix. Happy mind mapping!
(For more about Billye Johnson and her work, see her profile at www.linkedin.com/ .)
Confession: I had no idea what mind mapping was. But I grab new techniques for my bag of writing tricks the way more normal people grab discounts for the State Fair.
Mind mapping, Billye demonstrated, is an outlining method. Not one specifically for outlining stories, but for outlining information.
I’m including a diagram from wikimedia to illustrate this post, because it’s a lot neater, not to mention more colorful than the one in my notes. (The next time I attend a workshop of Billye’s, I’ll come with a fistful of colored markers.)
The core of the mind map is a concept, phrase or image.
You can map with computer software. But in line with science fiction writer Karl Schroeder’s concept of “exomind” from last Monday -- a physical construct that speaks to us -- I’ll talk about the map as if it’s a doodle on paper.
Beginning with the possibility of writing a nonfiction article, Billye chose a concept from those suggested by workshop members -- ageing. With this word at its core, branches extended to concepts related to aspects of aging -- finances, medical issues, religious issues, social issues, and others.
When we followed the “social issues” branch from the core term “ageing,” we found separate branches for concepts such as “self-image” and “wrinkle.” (I won’t deny this
came from an older member of the group.) Also, “dating” and “activities”, and “finances” and “retirement”. When Billye grouped them, potential articles ranged through cosmetic surgery/techniques, to travel and resorts, to online dating for seniors. Suddenly, there are dozens of article possibilities, all dealing with the core issue of “ageing.”
How about applying mind mapping to fiction? What’s your protagonist’s defining characteristic? “Altruism,” a workshop member suggested. But how do you demonstrate that quality?
Mind map branches leading from the concept of “altruism” included “generosity,” “idealism,” “loyalty,” “sacrifice,” and “vulnerability.” Toss a few examples of those into your story, and you’ve got your character’s chief trait.
And for the all-important antagonist, think of an opposite for each concept. Or, to make things really fun -- and your protagonist more complex and conflicted -- throw an “opposite” trait into her mix. Happy mind mapping!
(For more about Billye Johnson and her work, see her profile at www.linkedin.com/ .)
Monday, October 8, 2012
Wordcraft -- The myriad paths to a novel, part II
“Literature, and novel writing in particular, is about perspective,” science fiction author Karl Schroeder assured his audience at the recent FenCon workshop in Dallas. And after last Monday’s pause to consider the phenomenon of book censorship, you may conclude that reading them is all about perspective as well.
The job -- and the joy -- of the writer, Schroeder said, “is not to experience the novel exactly the way the reader may experience it. The joy of writing is discovering the pleasure of creating the story.”
And despite the tools he added to our novel writing kits, he cautioned, “the misuse or overuse of all these techniques is the bed of Procrustes,” the mythical giant who stretched or shortened his unwilling guests to match the size of his bedstead.
And with that caveat, he introduced us to a design process intended to save us, perhaps, from ourselves. This is a cyclical process, probably to be repeated multiple times for a single novel.
It goes like this: envisioning -- disposition -- drafting -- editing -- re-envisioning. Or as Schroeder said in another context, “rinse and repeat.” But arrange the terms in a circle instead of a straight line.
“Envisioning” is the “idea” stage. “Disposition” is Schroeder’s term for “when you actually start putting your great ideas together, when a lot of outlining gets done.”
“Drafting” is the stage at which, as Schroeder says, “you actually write the damn thing.” It’s followed by editing, which may be done either by the writer or by someone else. Are we through? Not yet. Editing leads to “re-envisioning,” where the cycle starts again. Hang on for the ride and enjoy the process.
Schroeder’s hope was that the notion of design process would free writers from the fear that each turn must result in a perfected product, even suggesting “writing multiple versions of a story as a version of outlining.”
“The first few times you go through the cycle,” Schroeder cautioned, “you’re probably addressing the wrong problem. You may be addressing a scene setting instead of telling your story.”
A google of “design process” turned up dozens of sample designs following Schroeder’s general outline. You may want to download a few to find one that speaks to you. I loved spending much too much time looking at circular and spiral images on the internet, such as the wheeling galaxy whose picture illustrates this post, from
http://commons.wikimedia.org/.
Feel free to jot scenes on post-it notes, to doodle, to fill a wall or a corkboard with reminders. They’re part of what Schroeder called the “exomind” -- physical items that speak to him more directly than computer files.
Schroeder also discussed just how many ways good novels can go wrong, but while I’m thinking about his exomind concept, I’ll offer an example next Monday, from another recent workshop -- the mind map.
And for more novel writing techniques, see editor Lou Anders’ suggestions from a previous FenCon workshop, “Bones of a novel, part I,” Oct. 12, 2011; “The bones of a novel, part II,” Oct. 19, 2011; and “Bones of a novel, part III,” Nov. 23, 2011, at this site.
The job -- and the joy -- of the writer, Schroeder said, “is not to experience the novel exactly the way the reader may experience it. The joy of writing is discovering the pleasure of creating the story.”
And despite the tools he added to our novel writing kits, he cautioned, “the misuse or overuse of all these techniques is the bed of Procrustes,” the mythical giant who stretched or shortened his unwilling guests to match the size of his bedstead.
And with that caveat, he introduced us to a design process intended to save us, perhaps, from ourselves. This is a cyclical process, probably to be repeated multiple times for a single novel.
It goes like this: envisioning -- disposition -- drafting -- editing -- re-envisioning. Or as Schroeder said in another context, “rinse and repeat.” But arrange the terms in a circle instead of a straight line.
“Envisioning” is the “idea” stage. “Disposition” is Schroeder’s term for “when you actually start putting your great ideas together, when a lot of outlining gets done.”
“Drafting” is the stage at which, as Schroeder says, “you actually write the damn thing.” It’s followed by editing, which may be done either by the writer or by someone else. Are we through? Not yet. Editing leads to “re-envisioning,” where the cycle starts again. Hang on for the ride and enjoy the process.
Schroeder’s hope was that the notion of design process would free writers from the fear that each turn must result in a perfected product, even suggesting “writing multiple versions of a story as a version of outlining.”
“The first few times you go through the cycle,” Schroeder cautioned, “you’re probably addressing the wrong problem. You may be addressing a scene setting instead of telling your story.”
A google of “design process” turned up dozens of sample designs following Schroeder’s general outline. You may want to download a few to find one that speaks to you. I loved spending much too much time looking at circular and spiral images on the internet, such as the wheeling galaxy whose picture illustrates this post, from
http://commons.wikimedia.org/.
Feel free to jot scenes on post-it notes, to doodle, to fill a wall or a corkboard with reminders. They’re part of what Schroeder called the “exomind” -- physical items that speak to him more directly than computer files.
Schroeder also discussed just how many ways good novels can go wrong, but while I’m thinking about his exomind concept, I’ll offer an example next Monday, from another recent workshop -- the mind map.
And for more novel writing techniques, see editor Lou Anders’ suggestions from a previous FenCon workshop, “Bones of a novel, part I,” Oct. 12, 2011; “The bones of a novel, part II,” Oct. 19, 2011; and “Bones of a novel, part III,” Nov. 23, 2011, at this site.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Wordcraft -- The myriad paths to a novel
Just when I think I’ve heard every way to write a novel, I attend the writing workshops at annual science fiction/fantasy convention, FenCon, in Dallas and learn there are so many more.
That was the case at this past weekend’s workshop led by Canadian science fiction author Karl Schroeder.
And Schroeder knows how to write novels. He’s written or co-written at least ten published science fiction novels, most recently Ashes of Candesce, out this year from Tor Books. Oh, and a little classic of nonfiction, The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Writing Science Fiction (with Cory Doctorow).
Self-deprecating to the core, Schroeder also mentions the twelve novels he wrote, starting at age sixteen, before he got published. As all serious fiction writers know, our apprenticeship in the storyteller’s guild consists of writing stories that may never be published.
He asks us workshop members what the components of a story are. “Beginning, middle, end,” one brave soul answers with the classic Aristotelian definition. But what if you want to tell a story like Memento, “a Jacobean revenge story, literally, but the way it’s told is backwards?” Schroeder asks.
So start instead by saying the first element is “the hook -- what gets the reader reading. After the hook, you have the introduction of characters and setting, then the development and a climax, leading all the way to the end,” Schroeder suggests.
“The idea of what a story is should never be cast in stone,” he says. “What we’re going to do is take a look at different perspectives.”
He opens with what he terms the seven-point plot “used most effectively in the Twilight Zone series.” Academically, this consists of hook, plot turn 1 (or “call to adventure), pinch (conflict), midpoint (not necessarily halfway through), plot turn 2 and pinch 2 (which Schroeder summarizes as “rinse and repeat”), and resolution. In the Twilight Zone, the resolution would be, in Schroeder’s words, “a Greek chorus commentary.” I can hear the voice of Twilight Zone host Rod Serling as Schroeder speaks.
The seven-point plot is probably enough for a short story, Schroeder says, but to write novels, we’ll have to dig deeper. Give the protagonist two problems -- one external, one internal, with failure coming from “only addressing the external problem,” and ignoring the internal one, “a character change (the protagonist) has spent the story avoiding.”
There’s also, Schroeder says, “there’s a theory of story where the story is a passionate argument between two characters.” And a theory he intriguingly calls the five-man band (for ensemble casts). And Japanese and classical Chinese ways of telling stories. The thing he most want to tell us in this first workshop session is “not to fall in the trap” of thinking there’s only one way to structure a story.
He’ll have a lot more to say later, and a lot more tools to add to our writing kits, including the possibility of discovering a story’s structure simply by writing it. For those who'd like more about the seven point plot, I’ve found a helpful source at
http://chandlermariecraig.wordpress.com/2011/01/31/cheat-sheet-7-point-story-structure/.
(I’ll continue Schroeder’s discussion in a later post, but next Monday Wordcraft takes a detour for Banned Books Week, September 30-October 6 this year. And if you think only pornographic books get banned, you don’t have the mind of a censor who can find the objectionable in A.A. Milne’s Winnie-the-Pooh.)
That was the case at this past weekend’s workshop led by Canadian science fiction author Karl Schroeder.
And Schroeder knows how to write novels. He’s written or co-written at least ten published science fiction novels, most recently Ashes of Candesce, out this year from Tor Books. Oh, and a little classic of nonfiction, The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Writing Science Fiction (with Cory Doctorow).
Self-deprecating to the core, Schroeder also mentions the twelve novels he wrote, starting at age sixteen, before he got published. As all serious fiction writers know, our apprenticeship in the storyteller’s guild consists of writing stories that may never be published.
He asks us workshop members what the components of a story are. “Beginning, middle, end,” one brave soul answers with the classic Aristotelian definition. But what if you want to tell a story like Memento, “a Jacobean revenge story, literally, but the way it’s told is backwards?” Schroeder asks.
So start instead by saying the first element is “the hook -- what gets the reader reading. After the hook, you have the introduction of characters and setting, then the development and a climax, leading all the way to the end,” Schroeder suggests.
“The idea of what a story is should never be cast in stone,” he says. “What we’re going to do is take a look at different perspectives.”
He opens with what he terms the seven-point plot “used most effectively in the Twilight Zone series.” Academically, this consists of hook, plot turn 1 (or “call to adventure), pinch (conflict), midpoint (not necessarily halfway through), plot turn 2 and pinch 2 (which Schroeder summarizes as “rinse and repeat”), and resolution. In the Twilight Zone, the resolution would be, in Schroeder’s words, “a Greek chorus commentary.” I can hear the voice of Twilight Zone host Rod Serling as Schroeder speaks.
The seven-point plot is probably enough for a short story, Schroeder says, but to write novels, we’ll have to dig deeper. Give the protagonist two problems -- one external, one internal, with failure coming from “only addressing the external problem,” and ignoring the internal one, “a character change (the protagonist) has spent the story avoiding.”
There’s also, Schroeder says, “there’s a theory of story where the story is a passionate argument between two characters.” And a theory he intriguingly calls the five-man band (for ensemble casts). And Japanese and classical Chinese ways of telling stories. The thing he most want to tell us in this first workshop session is “not to fall in the trap” of thinking there’s only one way to structure a story.
He’ll have a lot more to say later, and a lot more tools to add to our writing kits, including the possibility of discovering a story’s structure simply by writing it. For those who'd like more about the seven point plot, I’ve found a helpful source at
http://chandlermariecraig.wordpress.com/2011/01/31/cheat-sheet-7-point-story-structure/.
(I’ll continue Schroeder’s discussion in a later post, but next Monday Wordcraft takes a detour for Banned Books Week, September 30-October 6 this year. And if you think only pornographic books get banned, you don’t have the mind of a censor who can find the objectionable in A.A. Milne’s Winnie-the-Pooh.)
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