Write Great Fiction--Plot & Structure Page 6

  Joseph Heller was famous for using first lines to suggest novels. In desperation one day, needing to start a novel but having no ideas, these opening lines came to Heller: “In the office in which I work, there are four people of whom I am afraid. Each of these four people is afraid of five people.”

  These two lines immediately suggested what Heller calls “a whole explosion of possibilities and choices.” The result was his novel Something Happened.

  Likewise, Heller’s classic Catch-22 got started when he wrote these lines:“It was love at first sight. The first time he saw the chaplain, Someone fell madly in love with him.” Only later did Heller replace Someone with the character’s name, Yossarian, and decide that the chaplain was an army chaplain, as opposed to a prison chaplain. The lines conceived the story.

  Writing opening lines is fun. Try it. Your imagination will thank you.

  16. Write a Prologue

  Page-turning fiction today often begins with an action prologue. It doesn’t have to involve the main character either. But something exciting, mysterious, suspenseful, or shocking happens that makes the reader say,“Hey, I better read the rest of the book to find out why this happened.”

  Gripping openings are fairly easy to write. The trick is putting a book after it. But the ideas you generate with a good prologue may lead to a full story. And writing a prologue of 1,000 to 2,000 words every now and then is great practice for writing page-turning fiction.

  17. The Mind Map

  The venerable practice of mind mapping is always a promising method of creation. A mind map is simply a web of quick associations, rendered in visual form. The process can be broken down into three phases:

  [1] Ready. Choose a word or concept to develop. It may be one you have in mind already, or it can be chosen at random. Write the word in the center of a blank sheet of paper and draw a circle around it.

  [2] Fire.

  Without much thought, allow your mind to jot down connections and associations. Don’t worry about making sense of it at this stage. Just go. Allow your associations to spawn other associations. Fill up the paper.

  [3] Aim. Soon, your pattern-mind will give you what Gabriele Lusser Rico calls a “trial-web shift.” This is a new “sense of direction” that comes to you out of the associations you’ve made. (See Rico’s Writing the Natural Way, chapter five. This is a superb book on mind mapping for writers.) This shift will provide you with a new sense of direction or focus in terms of your map. You will discern the message that your exploding mind wants to send you. You will have an idea.

  For example, my word is baseball. Here I go:

  As I pondered this web, it occurred to me that my youth, and the hopes that resided therein, are central. My memories of Dodger Stadium and Little League and Vin Scully on hot summer nights are a rich vein from which I can come up with dozens of possible story ideas.

  I think I will.

  18. Socko Ending

  What is it that makes Casablanca more than just a good film? What gives it a lasting resonance that leaves you with a satisfied “Ah”? I believe it is the ending, with that great final line: “Louis, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”

  A socko ending.

  Endings often make or break a story. If the ending is flat, we are unsatisfied, even if what has come before is compelling. Frank Capra said this is what happened with his film, Meet John Doe. The story setup was wonderful, but when they got to the ending, Capra and the writers didn’t know what to do. The most logical outcome would have been for John Doe to jump from the building and kill himself. But that would have made the film depressing. The choice they finally made, having the common folk rush up to save him, didn’t quite ring true. The filmmakers had painted themselves into a corner.

  Since endings are so crucial, why not come up with a socko ending first? Try this:

  [1] Visualize a climactic scene in the theater of your mind.

  [2] Hear music to go with it.

  [3] Let the full range of emotions burst forth.

  [4] Add characters as you will to heighten conflict.

  [5] Play around with variations on this theme until something unforgettable happens.

  Then ask:

  [6] Who are the characters?

  [7] What circumstances brought them here?

  [8] How can I trace back the story to its logical starting point?

  Many writers feel that having a possible ending in mind is the best available narrative compass. At the very least, this socko ending exercise will give you some strong characters.

  19. Occupations

  Much of our self-image is tied up with our work — what we do and how well we do it. There is also a culture associated with individual occupations. So there is plenty of material inherent in the kind of work people do.

  Try coming up with story ideas based on intriguing work. It will serve you well to keep a list of interesting occupations you come across as you read books, newspapers, and magazines.

  One reference I treasure is Dictionary of Occupational Titles, published by the U.S. Department of Labor. This huge, two-volume compendium describes thousands of occupations in detail. Here is a sample listing:

  378.363-010 Armor Reconnaissance Specialist (military serv.)

  Drives military wheeled or tracked vehicle and observes area to gather information concerning terrain features, enemy strength, and location, serving as member of ground armored reconnaissance unit: Reports information to commander, using secure voice communication procedure. Writes field messages to report combat reconnaissance information. Drives armored, tracked, and wheeled vehicles in support of tactical operations to harass, delay, and destroy enemy troops. Directs gunfire from vehicle to provide covering or flanking fire against enemy attack. Prepares and employs night firing aids to assist in delivering accurate fire. Tests surrounding air to determine presence and identity of chemical agents, using chemical agent detecting equipment, radiac, or radiological monitoring device. Drives vehicle to bridle locations to mark routes and control traffic. Requests and adjusts mortar and artillery fire on targets and reports effectiveness of fire.

  The above might suggest a number of stories. What if this character got lost? Drove through a time warp into 1850? Went crazy? What areas of further research are suggested?

  20. Desperation

  Maybe you’re sitting before a blank sheet or screen and there is nothing in your head. Zero. You’ve exhausted all your possibilities. You are a desperate writer.

  Good. Many other great writers have shared your misfortune. And they have found a way out. The answer is just write anyway.

  Before writing Ragtime, E. L. Doctorow was desperate. He explains, “I was so desperate to write something, I was facing the wall of my study in my house in New Rochelle and so I started to write about the wall. That’s the kind of day we sometimes have, as writers. Then I wrote about the house that was attached to the wall. It was built in 1906, you see, so I thought about the era and what Broadview Avenue looked like then: trolley cars ran along the avenue down at the bottom of the hill; people wore white clothes in the summer to stay cool. Teddy Roosevelt was President. One thing led to another and that’s the way that book began, through desperation to those few images.”

  Maupassant used to advise, “Get black on white.” James Thurber said, “Don’t get it right, just get it written.”

  Are you desperate?

  Get black on white. Now!

  How NOT to Get Ideas

  You now have more than enough idea generators to last your writing lifetime. Here I inject a word of caution. There are certain methods writers have resorted to over the years that you should avoid:

  Drugs. By now everyone knows the dangers of drug use. While it may provide the illusion of imagination expansion, there are just too many evils involved to make it worthwhile.

  Alcohol. Alcohol and authorship are inextricably linked in literary lore. Many great writers have also been notorious boozers. Untold numbe
rs of aspirants have mistakenly thought there is a logical connection there. There isn’t.

  Stress. The myth of the struggling writer is another image many young authors hold dear. But nothing suggests that self-inflicted stress creates anything more than anxiety. While that can sometimes lead to deadlines born of desperation, it may also lead to overconcern with economics. This in turn can result in not taking risks and playing it safe, in short, flat writing.

  As Gabriel Garcia Marquez said, “I’m very much against the romantic concept of writing which maintains that the act of writing is a sacrifice and that the worse the economic conditions or the emotional state, the better the writing. I think you have to be in a very good emotional and physical state.”

  Stay healthy, happy, and above all produce.

  NURTURING YOUR IDEAS

  Okay, you’ve got a bunch of ideas there. (You don’t? Get busy!) Now what? Choose your favorite idea and write a hook, line, and sinker.

  The hook is the big idea, the reason a reader browsing in the bookstore would look at your cover copy and go, “Wow!” The big idea in Midnight by Dean Koontz is the abuse of biotechnology, which affects an entire town. What’s the big idea behind your book?

  Now comes the line. Write the grabber copy for your idea in one or two sentences. Another of Koontz’s novels, Winter Moon, was summed up this way: “In Los Angeles, a city street turns into a fiery apocalypse. In a lonely corner of Montana, a mysterious presence invades a forest. As these events converge and careen out of control, neither the living nor the dead are safe.”

  Finally, think hard about a sinker. This is the negative angle, what might possibly sink your idea as a venture. That doesn’t mean you get rid of the idea (though you may); you can also strengthen it considerably. Here are the questions you need to ask and answer to your satisfaction before moving on:

  [1] Has this type of story been done before? (Almost always, the answer will be yes.) If it has, what elements can you add that are unique? Brainstorm a list of possibilities. Keep on brainstorming until you have something no one has seen before.

  [2] Is the setting ordinary? If so, where else might you set the story? What sort of background has not been done to death?

  [3] Are the characters you’re thinking of made of old stock? If so, how can you make them more interesting? What fresh perspective can you provide? Again, do some free-range brainstorming and don’t throw out any ideas until you have generated a long list.

  [4] Is this story “big enough” to grab a substantial number of readers? If not, what can you do to make it bigger? How might you raise the stakes? Almost always, death (physical or psychological) must be a very real possibility.

  [5] Is there some other element you can add that is fascinating? Think of the idea from every angle, and how you might add a twist or two that enlivens the whole. Yes, it’s more list making. Just do it.

  Like cookies and love, story ideas need to be fresh to be truly satisfying. By applying these questions to your story idea, you’ll keep yourself from starting down a long path that may turn toward dullsville.

  BELL’S PYRAMID

  What editors and agents will tell you is that they are looking for a “fresh, original voice” within the cosmos of what has worked before. In other words, they want it both ways: original, yet not so original that the people in the marketing department won’t know what to do with it.

  So give them both. Give one final pass on your best ideas by putting them into Bell’s Pyramid. (Forgive me, but never having had a pyramid bear my name, I went ahead and named this one.)

  Passion

  The base of the pyramid is plot passion. You are going to be spending a lot of time with the plots you choose to write. A novel can take months, sometimes years. So you’d better have a passionate desire to take the plunge in order to sustain yourself in the long haul.

  Why are so many novels rejected? One reason is they seem “cookie cutter.” They follow the crowd because the writer often thinks, “Gee, if I write something like something else that is successful, I can get published.”

  This is a major mistake. Without a passionate commitment to the plot as a story you’re burning to tell, your voice will not be original or compelling. You will just end up sounding like the maddening crowd of other wannabes pounding on the doors of opportunity.

  Of all the strata of the pyramid, passion is the most important for your writer’s soul and, almost always, your ultimate success. While it is fine to do journeyman work for money (if you are learning the craft), I believe we writers must nourish and nurture our individuality. Only then do we rise above the commonplace.

  As Brenda Ueland says, “Work with all your intelligence and love. Work freely and rollickingly as though they were talking to a friend who loves you. Mentally (at least three or four times a day) thumb your nose at all the know-it-alls, jeerers, critics, doubters.”

  You may even, if you wish, thumb your nose at me. Just make sure you’re passionate about doing so.

  Potential

  On the next level, you consider the possible reach of the idea to an audience. For a moment, take off your artist’s hat and assume the role of a potential investor. If you were going to put up many dollars to publish this book, do you have a chance to recoup the investment and make a little profit besides?

  Be ruthless in your evaluation. Does an eight-hundred-page fictional rendition of a few years of your life hold much interest for a circle wider than your immediate family? It may, but tell your investor-self why.

  Are you entranced by the romance of fish gutting? Explain this to your investor-self.

  And do a little market research. You ought to subscribe to Publishers Weekly and keep up with the business. What is being published? Each issue of Publishers Weekly lists “Forecasts,” short reviews of upcoming books. Ask yourself what the publisher sees in these plots.

  Don’t copy. Just be aware that much of the potential of a published work is in the author’s original voice and vision.

  Note, too, that your assessment of potential need not be with the largest possible audience in mind. Genre writers know they are limiting themselves to a distinct group of potential readers. Even within genres, there are subgroups. Many science fiction writers, for example, are not writing “hard” science fiction, but rather books about deeply held philosophical ideas. They know that such novels appeal to some sci-fi readers and not to others. That’s fine. They are motivated by passion, which we’ve already discussed.

  Looking at potential, then, is just a tool to help you make a decision. It is not a “rule.” As with any tool, use it wisely.

  Precision

  Finally, be precise in your plot goals. If you are passionate about your idea and reasonably certain about the potential it has to reach readers, trim away anything that is not in line with that potential. If the plot is going to be for a suspense audience, aim it there. Don’t anticipate using anything else that will distract from that goal.

  THE CASE OF MIDNIGHT

  I have used Dean Koontz’s 1989 thriller, Midnight, in my suspense writing class because it was a runaway bestseller (Koontz’s first No. 1 hardcover on the New York Times list), and it uses many of the techniques discussed. I’ll tell you what you need to know about the novel, but if you want the full benefit I suggest you get yourself a copy and read it through at some point.

  Since this chapter is about getting ideas, you might ask yourself how Koontz got the idea for Midnight. We can only speculate, but here are some distinct possibilities. More than one may have played a part:

  Predicting a trend. Koontz often uses the abuse of new technologies in his books. In 1989, he anticipated nanotechnology (tiny, biologically implanted computer chips) and expanded on it brilliantly.

  Villain. The villain, Thomas Shadduck, has one of the more bizarre and startling introductions in Midnight. He is a supervillain, humanized. The plot could have been written around him. Alfred Hitchcock once said that the strength of a suspense story
is equal to the strength of the villain. Perhaps Koontz started with Shadduck and wrote the plot from his machinations.

  Title. The word “midnight” conjures up all sorts of images, usually of the dark and sinister variety. In fact, the novel takes place mostly at night, during a short period of time, and midnight is also the time when something very bad is going to be triggered. All of this may have occurred to Koontz based on the title alone.

  A great prologue. Many page-turners begin with a mysterious, shocking, or otherwise gripping prologue. The Midnight prologue introduces a character who is jogging at night and who is killed by a mysterious beast at the end of the prologue. We never see her again. But we are left wondering about the cause of her death (as, indeed, are the lead characters). Koontz may have just written this prologue off the top of his head, and only later figured out what to do with it.

  Stealing a plot. This is my nominee for most likely device Koontz used to come up with the plot for Midnight. Reading it, I was struck that here we had a mixture of two classic plots — the great ’50s film Invasion of the Body Snatchers and the classic H.G.Wells tale, The Island of Dr. Moreau. And, indeed, Koontz cleverly mentions both of these later in the novel. It is as if he is winking at those readers who picked up on the similarities!

  So you see, there are any number of ways a master storyteller like Dean Koontz may have come up with the initial idea for his first New York Times No. 1 hardcover bestseller. What’s stopping you from doing the same?