Summertime reruns: Starting a Novel

Today's Novel Matters rerun comes from Bonnie Grove. It first appeared in May, 2012.

Happy summer!

I’m not in the habit of quoting Zig Zigler, but the dude once said, "You don’t have to be great to start you have to start to be great." 

It’s a nice quote if you can picture saying it sans the fist-pump and jazzercise music playing ubiquitous at those brain-washing seminars.
 
Beginning a novel is daunting. Ever since Patti Hill talked about writing as stuffing an octopus into a mayonnaise jar, I haven’t been able to get the image out of my head. 
 
How does a writer go from holding an octopus in one hand and a mayonnaise jar in the other to a tidy stack of papers with his name neatly typed on the cover page?
 
If starting is the most crucial step (and it is), then starting well will save hours (months? Years?) of frustration in rewrites. 
 
Fiction is personal. No two writers come at it in the same way, and no one can say, “This is the definitive method of how to begin writing a novel.”
 
One writer begins with a character that shows up in her head and won’t go away. Another follows the crumbs of a plot, a series of “what if” questions. For another it’s the setting. Yet another (and this is how I usually begin) it’s theme. (update: I no longer begin a novel with theme alone. I've come to a point where I realize I must wait until a number of idea coalesce into a rich soup headed up by plot.)
 
Regardless of what jump-starts you to dive into writing a new novel, there are two questions you need to ask yourself before you put pen to paper. 
 
The first question is: Who is telling this story? 
 
When you discover the answer to this question, you lay the foundation for a myriad of complex literary devices. Discovering your narrator means you’ve discovered:

 Your setting. Real people live in real places—they come from somewhere. 
 When (in time and history). Narrators live in the present—even if they are dead (The Book Thief, American Beauty). 
 Which tense you will write in. Past tense (the current champion in novels everywhere), present tense? Which is best. Is anyone out there writing in future tense? 
 Voice. Ah voice, that misunderstood device of writing. Both simple and baffling. Knowing who is telling the story means you can listen deeply to that voice that lifts the words off the page and lives in the reader’s heart and mind. 
 And the biggest of them all Point of View (POV). Knowing your narrator means the POV (almost) decides itself. First person? Third person limited? Omniscient? Second person (rare, but wonderful when it’s done well)? 

Now, I’m not going to say that if you choose this kind of narrator then you automatically will have this kind of POV. It doesn’t work that way because each novel is different, and the more complex the story, the more layers of questions arise. 

But. 

If you spend a good chunk of time fiddling with the question of who, something amazing happens: you get traction under your story at the very beginning.
 
The second question to ask is: Why must this story be told now?

The word “now” is key to the question.  It’s not asking “is my story timely?” or, “is this culturally contextual?” Those are questions about things that lie outside your story. 
 
Why must this story be told now is a question that, when answered, brings a sense of intimacy, urgency, and intrigue to your novel. That tingly feeling you get when you open a novel and feel pulled in immediately. 
 
Why now? What desperate thing has happened that means the narrator is compelled to speak today. Now. Immediately. That not telling the story now would be wrong, perhaps tragic. 
 
Why is now the best time to tell the story? Knowing this will help you know where your story begins.
 
If you’re starting a new novel, ask yourself:
 
Who is telling this story?
Why does the storyteller need to tell this story NOW?
 
These questions will lead to more questions, which will lead to answers, which will lead to you typing THE END with a flourish.

No Virginia, There's No Such Thing as The First Draft

Last week, I announced on Facebook that I had completed the first draft of my WIP.

My mother read on Facebook that I had completed the first draft of my WIP. She asked to read it.
I laughed and laughed.

No way anyone is reading that puppy.

I lied about completing the first draft.

Or. Maybe not.

I can't be certain.

What I know is if anyone read the draft it would be like what I imagine a magician would feel like revealing his or her secrets.

My first draft is a blabber mouth. It explains how I do all my tricks.

There is so much rough stuff inside that first draft, so many side notes, and highlighted ALL CAPS messages to myself that should anyone read it they'd think, Shazam, I know exactly how she twists the plot, rearranges time, and spaces out plot reveals that I could just go home and write the thing myself.

And we can't have that.

I have come to a startling conclusion:

I don't believe in first drafts.

Meaning, I doubt they exist. I would love to believe there are writers out there who pound out a story so well crafted that the second draft is only so much polishing. If you told me that is exactly how you write, I'd smile and nod and later I'd draw pictures of you with the eyes X'ed out.

My second draft isn't polishing. It's major reconstructive surgery. And not the out patient kind. The you're going to be here for awhile so you might as well get comfortable and for heaven's sake stop abusing the nurse call button.

You can't read my second draft, either.

Sure, I've tucked away most of the dead giveaways, spun the scenes so they glisten just enough to distract you from what I don't want you to see.

But.

And I'm being butt-neeked honest here.

But, that second draft (meaning the manuscript after I've moved through it fully from the opening chapter to THE END) has a face only a mother could love. Still more voice and jazz hands than breathless pacing and didn't-see-it-coming-but-now-that-it's-here-it-couldn't-have-happened-any-other-way plot twists.

After the third time through the novel I've tucked away the how-to secrets, buried the plot twists, sped up that pacing and layered on the subtle elements of story-world, sub-plot, running jokes (this story has a few running jokes. Cuz I like running jokes and it's my story so there), character traits, time line (cursed thing, that time line. Bane of my writing existence), and break-neck speed ending.

After the third time through, I might consider letting some very close friends have a peek. Only because I begged them.

And what would I call that draft?

In my email to my close friends begging them to read the thing I would say this: Please, please, please, pretty please read this first draft and let me know how much needs to change/be rewritten/be burned at the stake.

Yep. I'd call that one my first draft.

Which is total ca-ca.

And also absolutely true.

Only Rocky Ground Will Test Your Balance.

Over the past several weeks, the writers at Novel Matters have hit on tough topics such as self-publishing, disappointing sales results, writer’s block, and other challenges of the writer’s life.

From the beginning of this blog, we’ve attempted to offer responses to the question, “Why write?” and, more particularly, “Why write fiction?” Over time, the answers have ranged from the sublime: Art for art’s sake! To the mundane: I write because I must. To the dreary: I’ve no idea why I write, I’d stop if I knew how.

Perhaps our reasons for writing change like our socks and underwear. Likely, we make up our excuses as we go along until eventually we’ve been at it so long that turning back, rather than continuing, is the absurd choice.

Part of me wonders if writers don’t suffer from the same affliction as gamblers. Just one more crack at it. One more hand (idea), one more pull at the slots (alluring character), one last spin of the wheel (novel) and then I’ll stop.

Except “stop” doesn’t mean stop, it means “win.”

One more shot at this book-writing thing and I’ll hit the big time. Donald Maass will ask me to dance. Amy Einhorn will salivate just hearing the premise. Readers will line the streets waiting for my autograph. Paparazzi will fall out of trees attempting to photograph me in a bikini.

Okay. Maybe not that last one.

If we’re honest, we all have a fragment of our soul that believes literary success—maybe even fame, but at least a pay cheque—is around the next corner. We’re addicted to the idea that our little book might be The One.

This mildly crazed part of us isn’t the piece that rules in the clear daylight. Certainly not. We have sensible reasons then. Good ones like art for art’s sake, and I write because I must. It’s only at night when we can’t get to sleep, or worse, are woken out of a deep slumber, that the niggling dark part of our soul pipes up and whispers, “Psst. Have I got a hot-topic premise for you. A sure-fire bestseller. Better turn that light on, kid.”

If you’re thinking I disparage this part of my soul, you’re reading me wrong.

It’s that unreasonable hope in my soul that keeps me typing when all reason tells me to get up from my desk and get a job at Taco Bell. A real job. Respectable. The kind that comes with a regular pay cheque and the self-respect attached to it. It keeps me reading, writing, improving, studying the industry. It keeps the ideas flowing when common sense would have stanched the flow ages ago.

After awhile—years—that unbalanced corner of our soul becomes the one thing we count on when we face relentless reality and rising odds. It becomes the only truly sane thing about us as writers.

I may never be a great writer.

Then again, I might be.

In Anton Chekhov’s The Sea Gull, Nina is a young actress who, after two heartbreaking years, returns to the Sorin estate with the knowledge that she will never be a great actress. She speaks to Konstantine—a writer who is in love with her, but whom she does not love—about her losses, which include her youth, career, and an infant son conceived out of wedlock. Near the end of her monologue she says: “Now I know, I understand. Kostya, that in our work . . . acting or writing . . . what matters is not fame, not glory, not what I used to dream about, it’s how to endure, to bear my cross, and have faith. I have faith and it all doesn’t hurt me so much, and when I think of my calling I’m not afraid of life.”

The unreasonable corner of a writer’s soul is the faith that makes it hurt less, that makes us not afraid.

That’s why artists were given the provision of owning a dark, crazy portion of our souls.

Shuffle through the loose bits of your soul for this difficult to find scrap. And, if you find it, embrace it. Strange as it is, unreasonable, and unseemly, it’s destined to become your best friend.

Are you in touch with your inner crazy? We’d love to hear about it.

The Fact About Fiction

We’ve been talking non-fiction/fiction this week. I’ve learned much from Katy and Debbie – and my TBR list has grown because of all the excellent recommendations from our readers. I read loads of non-fiction, quirky stuff from YA books explaining environmentalism, to books on writing, to biography (currently reading the biography of C.S. Lewis’s wife Joy Davidman Gresham), to info/reference volumes. I read very little Christian non-fiction. There are reasons for that, but I won’t go into it here. I do have a Christian non-fiction recommendation, though. When I was going through a disastrous time in my life (one of many), I found a slim book by M. Craig Barns called When God Interrupts. There’s a long story that goes with this book, but suffice it to say, it was sustaining. Now, on to today’s fiction/non-fiction topic.

I have a theory. Goes like this: All fiction is fact that never happened (except it did). I realize this reads muddy, but allow me to explain.

On Monday, Katy opened our eyes to the notion that fiction is empathy. That it helps us to lean into the human condition, not to judge, but to understand and identify. I agree wholeheartedly. And I’d like to build on that thought. If empathy may be created through reading the made up stories of invented characters, then this implies that the stories do in fact contain truth that can be construed, and then applied to our lives.

Let’s break my theory down:

“All fiction is fact--” One of the reasons we must create rich, layered characters of depth who possess both good and negative qualities is because to do otherwise is a form of self-delusion. We would be lying to ourselves. When we, as writers, insist our character reacts to the troubles around her with only pure motive, altruism, and honest action, we are attempting to turn a blind eye to the totality of truth about ourselves. And in our efforts to write a bright story of human hope, we end up with a fiction that contains no truth.

“Fact that never happened”. Fiction is an account of true emotion. Story reflects and explores the essence of humanity. Fiction is a map of us. An emotional biography. It is the opportunity to explore the truth about how we feel about ourselves, our neighbors, our place in the world. We explore this through stories that have happened to no one, to someone, to everyone. This is the mathematics of story – No one (invented character) + someone (reader interacting with richly textured characters inside story structure) = everyone (novels that allow many readers to identify with various and unlikely situations and people)

“(except it did)”. Once the reader begins reading, the story plays out inside the mind, heart, and imagination of the reader. It lives. It happens. The reader and the writer communicate this fact, tracing each other’s common experience of being through the connecting power of story.
Fiction is the breathing part of us. It’s a way for each of us to explore how to live out our humanity – and a way for us to glimpse at the ways other people live it out.

Writers, how does your writing crack open the experience of being human? Readers, what fiction have your read that has been an emotional biography for you? (and yes, you can answer as both a reader and a writer). We love to hear from you.

Archetypes in Fiction

On Monday, Ariel Allison wrote about the power of the parable’s of Jesus, highlighting the genius behind the seemingly simple stories about lost boys, lost coins, vineyards, and sheep. It was a meaty post, and many things stood out for me. But one word in her post jumped off the page at me: Archetype. And I thought, when was the last time you had a rollicking conversation about archetypes? Far too long. Care to dig in with me? I’ll be following Ariel’s excellent example of using the parables of Jesus to explain and expound on the use of archetypes.

When it comes time to craft characters for a novel, the perennial advice from writing gurus, rings in our heads: Create characters readers identify with.

But how do we construct relatable characters from the fodder of our imaginations? The answer is, of course, multi-fasciated, but found solidly in the mix is the use of archetypes.

An archetype is a psychological pattern within a person (character) that quickly conveys the status, stature, power, and even morality of a character in a way that is nearly universally understood.

Psychologist and DWM* Carl Jung brought us the term and definition of archetype in his theory of personality. But there is no need for the writer to possess a degree in psychology in order to understand and use archetypes to their advantage in fiction. What the writer truly needs is to understand literature and to be able to recognize archetypal characters in fiction. This isn’t as heady or difficult as it might first appear. To pull from Ariel’s quote from the Dictionary of Biblical Imagery, archetypes are “master images that recur throughout literature and life.” A sort of psychological short hand that aids in deepening our understanding of a character and why she behaves the way she does. All it takes to is a love of reading, and a keen eye.

So what are they? Archetypes are not stereotypes. Stereotypes are negative generalizations about populations of people based on any number of outward statistics such as gender, race, skin color, ethnic origin, hair color (blonde joke anyone?), income, education level, etc. Archetypes, instead, are psychological sketches of human roles which have both positive and negative attributes (Jung referred to negative attributes as “shadow”), and are understood to be neutral, rather than stereotypical. Quick take home point: Stereotype points a finger and attacks the outward appearances. Archetype explains a way of being inside a human role.

So, if you’re writing a slice of life novel about a woman born and raised in the deep south and you describe her as: An outspoken, charming, social climbing, southern woman, you’ve described her in a stereotypical fashion. If, however, you describe her as a southern woman who uses her wits and charm to build an empire, you have described her archetype (Queen).

Let’s look at some examples of archetypes used in the parables of Jesus:

Wise man (e.g. Matthew 7:24-27)

Trickster (most commonly seen as a thief or enemy such as in Matthew 13: 24-30)

Father/King (There are many examples of this archetype in Jesus’ parables, often understood as a metaphor for God the Father. Some examples: Matthew 25:14-30 [an example of a vengeful, or angry master], and of course, The Prodigal Son parable, and also in the numerous parables about the shepherd tending the flocks [e.g. John 10:1-5].

Lover (Matthew 25:1-13 - the parable of the ten virgins)

In each of these stories, Jesus conveys immediate depth of meaning by sketching an archetype - a human role and function - and expounding on in order to teach a universal truth. He uses the universal to teach the universal. In only a few words Jesus was able to create characters each of us can readily identify and relate to.
Notice that these characters were not all sympathetic. That in no way impedes the readers ability to understand and identify with - on some level. We don’t need to like the character, we don’t need to agree with what the character is doing in order to relate to him.

An advanced technique is to take an archetype and give it a twist, giving the reader fresh, even shocking insight into human nature.

The sheep and Goats parable (Matthew 25: 31-46) turns the Father/King archetype on it’s head by depicting the King as hungry, naked, and in prison. This serves to deepen our understanding of God’s connection to humanity - that he experiences the sorrows of life on earth acutely, suffering along side us.

In the Parable of the Rich Man (Luke 12:16-21), Jesus turns this archetype on it’s head in another way, by depicting the ruler as greedy - a trait that resides in on the shadow side of the King/Father archetype, but then he adds a second, surprising dimension to the King/Father by making him a foolish man.

Jesus took the archetype of the Trickster - someone normally understood as sly, self-serving, and powerful and applied it to the religious, the Pharisees - people who would understand themselves within the role of Wise Men, or even Father.

There are, of course, many other archetypes we find in literature (and in life). Are you game? Can you point us to an archetype you’ve noticed in your reading, and give us an example? All comments welcome - this isn’t a pass or fail test, we’re discussing and playing with concepts. Ready? Go!

* DWM Dead White Male. While the subject of archetypes is helpful in discussing fiction, it’s important to understand the foundations of modern psychology were far from universal. Psychology was founded by western and/or North American white males, and remains riddled by their prejudices to this day.

Motivating Tension

We have a WINNER:

Day three of our 12 Days of Christmas contest, chosen randomly by Studly Steve Grove is: Karen Schravemade! E-mail me, Karen at novelmatters@gmailcom with your snail mail address and I'll get those books to you in time for Christmas!

We're ringing in the 12 Days of Christmas on Novel Matters. (for full contest rules, click the link)

"On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me...

Three French Hens!"

I'll send signed copies of Talking to the Dead, Your Best You: Discovering and Developing the Strengths God Gave You, AND a signed copy of the anthology Hot Apple Cider where my short story The Stuckville Cafe appears, to the person who can find an author's last name in the phrase: THREE FRENCH HENS and name a title by that author OR submit a book title with one of the words from the phrase and the author. Submit your entry using the "Contact" button above. See complete details for the contest on the November 23rd post. Good Luck! The winner will be announced on Friday, November 27th.

A handy quick tip reference for creating tension in fiction is to have characters with clearly defined - and opposing motivations interact with one another.

I've seen lots of definitions of what writers think is character motivation. But I'm not satisfied with most of them. Probably because, as a student of psychology, I'm not satisfied with the current theories of motivation out there (but we won't get into that here - whew!) I think it's helpful to look a bit deeper at the concept of motivation and how it can be applied to character creation.

1. Motivations are not goals. A goal can serve as motivation, but it cannot be the single thing that drives a character to behave. This amounts to your character singularly serving a lone goal. This isn't realistic, and it isn't interesting reading. Instead, a goal needs to be understood as a character's ideal outcome - and not necessarily the outcome of the story. It should be complex, and should have clearly worked out acceptable compromises.

2. Motivation cannot be judged by behavior alone. One thing I've learned in my years working with families at risk: you cannot know what a person is trying to accomplish just by watching what they do. As an introduction to Chaos Theory, an instructor drew horizontal line on a chalk board. A volunteer held one end of a string and the instructor held the other. The instructor asked the volunteer to ensure the string remained parallel to the chalk line on the board - no matter what. The instructor proceeded to move his end of the string, up, down, side to side. The volunteer worked to keep the string parallel to the chalk line. The movement of the string forced her into all sorts of positions, climbing up on chairs, kneeling on the floor. The instructor then called in a second volunteer who was in the hall, and didn't know what was happening inside. The second volunteer was asked to explain what the first volunteer was trying to do. After observing for awhile, and several incorrect guesses, the second volunteer conceded - he had no idea what the first volunteer was trying to accomplish, and couldn't tell by watching the behavior. It adds interest for the reader if a character behaves in ways that do not, at first, seem to tie into the stated goal.

3. Motivation is not passive. It can be shaped and refined over time. It is always in movement. Excellent character arch includes the characters ability to redefine his or her goal based on what has happened in the plot (plot should mess with motivation - it's another way to create tension).

4. Motivation works differently for different people. There is the story of two brothers, raised by an alcoholic and abusive father. One brother becomes a lout, a playboy drinker who can't keep a job. When asked how he arrived at his current state, he replies, "With a father like I had, how else could I have turned out?" The other brother becomes a business man, marries, raises a family, abstains from excesses. When asked how he came to be such a success he replies, "With a father like I had, how else could I have turned out?" Try to avoid drawing straight lines from a difficult past as motivation behind a characters bad habits. It isn't always so cut and dried.

5. Motivation is a deeply felt need tied to basic instincts - motivation is emotional. Touch the motivation button in a character and you should see fire works of emotion (emotion - not melodrama). It is a character's hot button and when he comes up against an opposing motivation he will take it personally.

I hope this is helpful to you when you begin to plot a book, or when you pick a book up to read. Looking for those building tensions between opposing motivation can add to the enjoyment of the book. It is said that fiction is tension. Do you agree? What have you noticed about tension and motivation in some of your favorite reads?

Nightmare on Creative Street

Congratulations to Connie Reece, the winner of our book giveaway this month! Connie, you have won a copy of Patti Hill's latest release Seeing Things, so shoot us an email with your address please and we'll get it in the mail to you.

Since Halloween is Saturday, I thought I'd blog about the things that go bump in the writer's night. Things that kill creativity. Kill it dead.

How do we create life from lifeless tissue? The fact that I had to ask for my husband's help to think of a title for this post only confirmed my urgent need to figure this out. (Thanks, honey) Most writers experience dry times when the ideas just won't come. What are the causes and what are the cures? Let's button up our lab coats and pull the third switch!

I brainstormed a list of causes for lack of creativity and came up with: fear of failure, fear of transparency, feeling restricted by guidelines/formulas/word counts, burnout, real or imagined criticism, anxiety over deadlines, worry, feeling overwhelmed and stress about life in general. I'll admit that for me, stress is the worst culprit and maybe yours is listed, too. Maybe recognizing it is the first step toward overcoming.

The good news is that we swim in a rich gene pool. Our Creator gave us the desire to write and it's part of what makes us tick. We don't create alone. Here are some ideas for cures:

• Read widely. Feeding your mind with interesting and thought-provoking material results in interesting and thought-provoking writing. These new ideas can blossom into a story idea or influence the direction of your WIP.
  
• Write at the same time every day. This creates memory triggers that can flip on the power switch.
• Enjoy beauty. Find a quiet place that you love and take time to meditate. Don't write or think about your WIP. Take your lunch to the cemetery. It's quiet and peaceful, and no one knows you're there but God. Or listen to your favorite music without distractions, or take a scenic detour home from the grocery store and listen on your car stereo. It can help you get perspective.
  
• Practice ten or fifteen minutes of free style writing. Write about whatever comes into your mind. It's okay to write with abandon and flourish. That's how I picture the Lord pitching armfuls of stars into the galaxy at creation. Or choose a topic like your favorite childhood vacation or your favorite Christmas. The point is, do not stop to rewrite! No one else will read it but you.
  
• Write someplace new. Sometimes the same old ideas sit in my office, fish-eyed and lifeless. Taking my laptop to a different environment helps me get away from them and makes room for new ideas.
• Read about the lives of famous authors. They, too, suffered from periods of dryness and thought their writing was lifeless at times, and they overcame. You will, too.
  
• Get out and do something. If you spend all your time in your office bent over your laptop, you will not gather rich experiences that your characters can share. They don't want to be dull.
• Ask God to refresh you. Ask fellow authors, family and friends to pray. If God calls us to a ministry, He will equip us for the task.

This is just a short list of suggestions. What robs you of your creativity and what have you found helpful? Please share it with us!