Want to write great fiction? Know history

Lately, I've been studying World War 2 and the Holocaust . It has been a dark study and difficult for me at times because I'm a pretty upbeat and optimistic person and it's hard to look at the evil and dark things of this world. But one good thing that has come of it, for me, is an increased understanding of how and why people do bad things, become evil. How weaknesses become vices, become sins, become horrors.

To tell honest fiction, fiction that inspires for good, then we as writers must understand evil and be able to portray it so others will recognize it for what it is. Such classics as Lord of the Flies and 1984 endure, not because they are fun to read but because they help us feel repulsed, wrong, angry. In another post here at the Cove, I talked about books of that sort as "broken", meaning they show evil winning, or good losing, or the world left in a wrong state. These books still can, and do, inspire us -- they prompt us, urge us to walk away from their pages with a determination to fix the wrongs of the world.

When I was fifteen, I lived for a few months in Germany, and as part of that stay I visited the Dachau Concentration Camp. It was a shock for me to realize the extent of man's inhumanity to man. To see gas chambers and firing walls and cremation ovens, so institutionalized, so systematic. To see pictures and film of the walking dead, dressed in rags, skin stretched tight over skeletons. Of the tortures and atrocities, the human experimentation committed by Nazi socialists on the "inferior" races.

There is a huge statue in one corner of the compound. From far away, it looked like a giant iron section of barbed wire. When I got closer, it became clear that it was a sculpture of twisted human bodies. As I stepped up to the base of the artwork, I already felt to echo what the plaque said, written in a dozen languages: "Never Again".

That creative work marshaled the feelings I had from viewing everything at Dachau. It helped me feel a resolve to move forward and always be on guard against tyranny. That is what great art can do, it can change us and thereby change the world.

Wow, right?

Knowing history helps us become better creators in so many ways. In writing fiction, we are trying to tell the story of mankind from its heart, which may arguably be as true -- or truer -- than telling it as history does, from its head and its hands. Understanding all sorts of things from history helps us to do this. I've learned this from my son whose passion is history. We were watching The Hobbit a few nights ago when he burst out with, "Hey, the Elves are patterned after the Greeks and Romans! Just look at that architecture, and that helmet is totally Spartan!" which led to a discussion about whether the Dwarves represent the Mongols or Vikings or what. It enriched our experience to see the links between history and fiction. They were links that Tolkien certainly intended.

 I remember once hearing someone ask Orson Scott Card what sci-fi books he had enjoyed recently, and he replied that he didn't read much of it anymore, but instead read biographies and histories to inform his writing. I didn't really get that at the time -- but I do now.

So how has history deepend your appreciation for story?

Getting To Know Your Target Audience

If you haven’t read David Farland’s “Million Dollar Outlines”, you might want to check it out. He drops some interesting psychological tidbits about what appeals to certain age groups.

He talks about his experiences with film. Basically, movie studios can predict fairly accurately how well a film will do, based on the emotional appeal of the story to specific groups. Consider these things as you choose your next story idea and target audience. 

I am going to shamelessly draw from Mr. Farland’s wisdom. He says:

If you want to succeed, pay attention to what the most powerful draws are for your audience age and cater to their tastes.

Here are some of the emotional draws that are important to know:

Very young children – ages 0-5: like wonder and humor in that order. Note that spooky stories may attract them, but can easily terrify a toddler. Mysteries can also attract a little one.

Children – ages 6-11. Wonder, humor, and horror are the top three attractions, with adventure beginning to draw young men. A great example of what you’re trying to accomplish can be seen in R.L. Stine’s Goosebump series.

Girls – ages 11-19. Wonder, humor, and horror are still important, but by age 13-16 romance becomes the primary draw. Also, note that this is the time when girls become more interested in coming of age stories. They’re trying to understand the world and cope with their own growing powers, and they’re trying to understand their place in society.

Boys – ages 11-19. Wonder, humor, and horror are still important, but by age 11 adventure becomes a primary draw for young men, so they find themselves enticed by stories set in football camps or on road trips. By age 16, young men also will become more drawn to sexual content.

Women – age 20-40. By age 20, women are drawn primarily to romance, but they also enjoy humor and horror, mystery and some drama. As they age, the interest in romance declines, and drama and mystery become much stronger draws.

Men – age 20-50. By age 20, men are drawn primarily to adventure, and this remains the strongest draw until about age 50. As men age, they too become more engaged by dramas and mysteries, leaving behind the wonder literature in their youth.

Mr. Farland explains these things in detail in his book, as well as many other pearls of writerly wisdom.

I’ve attended classes he’s given at WIFYR (Writing and Illustrating For Young Readers), and have been quite impressed. For anyone writing mid-grade, or literature for younger children, consider this tidbit of his—in his own words: “Food is to young children what sex is to young adults”. In other words, all those feasts, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, and butter beer in Harry Potter? Gold mine.

Mind you, as you look across Mr. Farland’s lists above when considering Harry Potter, you’ll see that J. K. Rowling hit the bull’s eye – wonder, horror, humor, adventure, little bits of romance, and yes, many edible things.

Small wonder, that besides the fantastic writing, the books did so well. Hm. Food for thought, no pun intended.

P.S. (The book bomb is still going to benefit David Farland’s son who was in an accident. If you’d like to help, simply buy any of his books. If you’re interested in “Million Dollar Outlines”, it’s an e-book for only $6.99.)

Here is the Amazon link:

http://www.amazon.com/Million-Dollar-Outlines-ebook/dp/B00B9JYJ6W/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1368146110&sr=8-1&keywords=million+dollar+outlines

And the Barnes and Noble link:

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/million-dollar-outlines-david-farland/1114285069?ean=2940015965148

Jonene's Awesome News

Leisha here.

I missed my week to post due to the perfect storm of sickness and children. Ugh. BUT I'm jumping in now to post for Jonene. Actually, I locked her in a closet and hijacked her post because she won't brag about herself. Luckily, I'm good at bragging about my friends. It's a skill.

Jonene locked in a closet

Jonene has been sitting on some fabulous news for a while now, and it's time to shout it out. Jonene signed with an agent! I'm going to write that again because it's just that awesome. Jonene signed with an agent! (See, awesomesauce!) She will be working with Judith Engracia of Liza Dawson Associates. 

Judith Engracia not locked in a closet

I met Judith at LTUE in Utah this spring. She is brilliant, kind, and a perfect match for Jonene, who is also brilliant and kind. Jonene is a fabulous writer, and her book is absolutely delightful. She and Judith will make a great team. I'm so happy for both of them. Congratulations Jonene! I can't wait for your book launch. I'll be the first in line.  

Don't Get Off the Boat

Books are about feelings. We introduce the readers to certain characters and situations to make them feel a certain way. Different kinds of books give different feelings, which is good, because everyone has a slightly different taste in feelings. This is why different people like different genres.

One of my very favorite feelings to get from books is a boat feeling. I love those books where the plot happens in a confined space far, far away from civilization. I love the delicate balance of authority the captain has. I love the potential for mutiny, whether we're on the captain's side or whether he's the villain. I love the feeling that the entire world that matters is as small as a boat. So, when I randomly pulled a book off of the public library shelf--on the grounds that it had a dragon on the cover--and turned to the first page, I was delighted to find that it was a boat book. I checked it out and hurriedly finished the book I was currently reading so I could start this one. But after about twenty pages, I was much less interested. Where the book started as a boat book, it became quite apparent that it was not going to continue as such. As soon as the main character gets to land, he's going to start a new life training a newly hatched dragon.

I am now deeply disappointed. Not that there's anything wrong with dragon-training stories. Dragon-training stories have fantastic feelings. But if I'd known I was picking up a dragon-training story, I would have thought about it a little differently. And now I'm not sure whether or not I can trust this author, since she switched the story type on me like that. It's good, so I'll still read it. I'm just not so excited about it.

I was thinking about my sudden lack of interest in the book, and I realized that this has happened before. A book starts out as a boat book and a little while in, the characters get off the boat and start having the plot on land. And I always either stop reading or end up disappointed in some way.

When you start a story, you're setting a tone. The first page should give you the same kind of feelings that the book gives you overall. The first scene of a story should have something to do with the main theme. The first hundred pages should be consistent with the second hundred pages. We don't put corn flakes in cans and label them green beans. When you package your story as something it's not, your audience can't find you. If I had happened to hate boat books, but love dragon-training books, I might have put this one down after the first page.

If you start with an intense magical battle, don't give me a story about elementary school kids. If you spend half a book in an entirely realistic world, don't have the martians land or the neighbors turn out to be vampires. And if you're going start in the middle of the ocean with nothing between you and the waves but a few planks of wood, by all means, don't get off the boat.

Write Space

I'm reading, "Imagine: How Creativity Works," by Jonah Lehrer. One of the key ingredients in creativity, according to him, is being part of a creative community. Pixar movies are awesome not just because of the talent at their studio, but because of the way they encourage their employees to work together. On the ground floor they have a huge open lobby with a breakfast cereal bar, an espresso bar, and I think I remember a video game room and a ping-pong table (my brother works there, I've had a tour). In spite of all these cushy amenities, the Pixar team works very, very hard and they've produced some of the best animated pictures of the last two decades. According to this book I'm reading, that's because people get their best ideas, and the impetus to make those ideas into reality, when hanging out with other creative people.

So now I'm envisioning my perfect writing space. It is no longer an isolated nook cut off from the rest of the world. No, it's a teeming hive of writing activity. I'd find dozens of dedicated writers from all sorts of genres to come and join me. We would each have a comfy little office with a nice computer and a window. The central lobby becomes our hang-out area with couches, tables, chairs, a big-screen TV, and lots of snacks and drinks. The walls are covered with art, especially book cover art, and white-boards. Plenty of white-boards. Everyone is encouraged to come out of their cubicle whenever they need a break and bounce ideas off anyone else who happens to be there.We'd hold workshops and classes right there in our own space, invite other writers we admire to come hang out with us, and go on field trips to crazy places just to get the creativity flowing.

We would write some of the most awesome books in the world.

Who's with me?

I *Love* Outlining

In my early days of writing, stories were unintentional things. I would hear characters chatting in my head until something they said intrigued me, and then I would build a scene around it. Why did they say that? Where are they? How did they get there? Who is that anyway? Slowly, the scenes that cloaked these bits of internal dialog would string themselves together into a sort of sequence. The missing scenes would begin to fill themselves in. At last I would have something that vaguely resembled... well, a... um...

Okay, this turned out, for me, NOT to be a great way to construct the kind of intricate, tight-meshed, all-the-gears-ticking-perfectly plot I like best.

When I complained about this problem, my husband suggested that rather than trying to use the random things my brain burbles up and make them fit into a story, I should make the story first. When my internal characters play out random scenes, then I could decide whether or not it fits and where it should go. The story was a blueprint, a plan, a scaffold, an armature. The scenes were lumps of clay that could be molded onto that armature, creating not some kind of free-form blob, but something intentional.

But that was called outlining. Ugh. It sounded like too much work and not much fun. Outline a story? When I could be drafting scenes?

I decided to try it anyways.

First I picked a story template. The one I like to use is from a lecture given by Dan Wells, the Seven Point Story Structure, which I've already blogged about here. Another popular one is Blake Snyder's Beat Sheet from the "Save the Cat" website. Once I had chosen my template, I decided on two main plots and three subplots. Then I made a five-by-seven table in my word processor and started filling in the empty squares with the major points in each of the plots. Usually I do this after I write the first draft, but it was surprisingly fun to do it BEFORE.

Once I had all the plot points in place, I began to create scenes. I tried to make sure that each scene contained a major point in at least one of the plot lines. More than one was better. I didn't do this all in one sitting, but instead spent a couple of weeks on it. As I worked, I began to see better ways to order the scenes. There were even a few scenes that I could combine with others, or completely cut out! And the beautiful thing was, there was no prose to sacrifice. It was completely painless to say, "Eh, don't need that. Out it goes."

So now I have all my scenes planned out, and all I have left to do, as my daughter says, is to "illustrate the scenes with words." Will the story be stronger this time? The burning need to know the answer to that question should keep me typing to the last. I'll let you know how it goes.

The Good Kind of Pain

No pain no gain, right?



Riiiight. When I'm running and my knee hurts, it's gain, right? Riiiight.

Okay, so not all pain is gain. But pain relating to writing can definitely be gain. I was with my critique group a week ago where I had submitted a chapter. It was good, because I had gone a long spell without submitting anything. [insert plug about how critique groups are awesome because they can give you a writing goal you need to meet.]

Anyway, the critique of my chapter started something like this:

"It just didn't flow"
"Yeah, it was boring"
"It wasn't exciting at all"

My first thought was: aaaaauuuuuuughhhhhh.... what a world!
And my second: I'm never submitting again!

Once my critique group got past deflating my head a bit, they pin pointed issues in the chapter. While I think they may have started harshly, the feedback they gave was useful.

So I took the pain of that moment and rewrote it.

This week they had much better things to say!

Sometimes we need to hear the painful things so our writing can grow and our writing can get polished.

So....