Teen Writers' Workshop

In mid-March, I’ll be teaching a writers’ workshop for teens ages 14-19. Everywhere I’ve taken my books, I’ve encountered young people who love to write. When I was that age, the writing bug had already bitten me too, though in a different form than what infects me now. I loved writing for my school yearbook and newspaper and hoped, one day, to be a journalist. Fast forward a couple of decades, and I found my true love—writing young adult fiction.

With a strong desire to share what I’ve learned with young writers, I composed a six-part workshop that will cover everything from plot to setting to sentence structure to editing to publishing. Because I believe it’s so important to writers’ careers that they learn to network, I’ve also invited other authors to make guest appearances. In addition, students will have the opportunity to learn how to give constructive critique and receive critique on their work in progress. My publisher, Rebelight Publishing, was excited to work together to bring this course to the teens in my community. 

 I hope that by giving the next generation of writers information and inspiration, they’ll have a good foundation for their writing careers and avoid some common pitfalls.

If you live in Winnipeg or surrounding areas, spread the word. I’m really looking forward to meeting, teaching, and encouraging Manitoba's young writers. Register online: Teen Writers' Workshop

*******

Melinda Marshall Friesen writes sci-fi/dystopian novels for teens and adults. Her most recent release, The High-Maintenance Ladies of the Zombie Apocalypse is equal parts suspence, gore, and humor.  Check out her books here: Books by Melinda Marshall Friesen

The Importance of the Inciting Incident

Think back to a period of change in your life. Can you trace that change back to one decision you made, or one thing that happened to you?

The inciting incident is the thing that happens to your character, without which there would be no reason to tell their story. If the inciting incident doesn't happen, your book doesn't happen.

For readers to be invested in your plot, the inciting incident must happen as close to the beginning of the book as you can get it. This is why people often tell writers to get rid of their prologues. Unless it contributes in some way to the inciting incident, it's taking up valuable space in the beginning of your book.

Example time!
I analyzed Finding Nemo last week. Go ahead and read it if you need a refresher on the plot. I can wait. :0)

Finding Nemo opens with the scene of Marlin and Coral choosing their new home for their babies, right before they get attacked by a bigger fish. Coral and all of the babies die, except for Nemo. Marlin promises to take care of Nemo.
This is a prologue.

The next scene jumps forward in time to show us Nemo's first day of school. Marlin has finally decided to relax his grip on Nemo enough to allow him to go to school with the other fish children.
This is the inciting incident. If Marlin doesn't take Nemo to school, then Nemo doesn't get dared to touch the boat, and then doesn't get scooped up by the dentist, and then a generation of children doesn't get introduced to the absolute delight that is Ellen DeGeneres.

In the case of Finding Nemo, the prologue works because 1) it's short and 2) it establishes why the inciting incident is such a big deal. Instead of Marlin being a fish who just takes his kid to school like it's any old day, Marlin is wacked out about the prospect of Nemo being away from him. The prologue sets up the tension of the inciting incident perfectly.

Have you ever seen an agent refer to a MS "starting in the wrong place?" This often signifies a problem with the timing of the inciting incident. Here's another example:

I recently read the first two chapters of a friend of my husband's work-in-progress. The writing was good; very descriptive, with decent pacing. I had a good sense of who the main character was. But the lack of inciting incident meant that after those two chapters I had no idea what the book was about. And that's a problem. I mentioned this to my fellow writer, suggesting that he keep what he had written (because it was good writing), but move it elsewhere in the book so he could get to the inciting incident quicker.

And that's my advice to you: Evaluate your first chapter. Does the event which propels your entire story happen in that chapter? If not, you may need to shift some things around so that it does.

Kara Analyzes Pixar Movies: FINDING NEMO

When I'm trying to come up with a new idea for a book, the thing I struggle with the most is plot. I often have an idea for characters, and how I want them to change over the course of the story, but deciding how to get them through that change is hard!

A book called Save the Cat! helps me the most when I'm struggling to nail down a plot. It's written for screenwriters, but regular ole novel writers can find priceless nuggets of wisdom as well. My favorite nugget of wisdom is the explanation of story beats, or the basic structure of successful stories.

Last time, I wrote about a Pixar movie I love, and why I believe it is so powerful. Today I want to talk about story beats, and how Finding Nemo (mostly) fits in. Spoiler alert: I don't like Finding Nemo. I could never articulate why, however, until I learned about story structure. Then everything fell into place for me.

If you want to learn more about story beats and structures, I highly recommend Save the Cat! by Blake Snyder.

Opening Image: We recognize the danger of living in the ocean, and why it would terrify Marlin, as we see his wife and babies (all but one!) annihilated by a bigger fish.

Theme Stated: Marlin tells Nemo, and us, that staying safe and not taking risks is the best way to live your life.

Set-Up: Nemo goes to school for the first time, and Marlin is having a hard time with the prospect of his increased freedom. Nemo's friends dare each other to go further and further into the ocean.
By this point, Snyder says that all the main characters should be introduced or at least hinted at. But... Finding Nemo is going to wait to introduce one of its main characters.

Catalyst: Nemo gets "fishnapped" by the dentist.

Debate: Can Marlin find and save his son?
This is where Marlin finally meets Dory, as he swims around desperately trying to follow the boat that took Nemo away.

Break Into Two: Marlin decides to team up with Dory, and work with her to find Nemo.

B Story: Nemo's time in the dentist's office serve as the B story of Finding Nemo. I guess we see Nemo grow into his own person (fish?) away from his father? He learns to trust himself and take some risks? Well, I thought he already showed that he was willing to take risks when he touched the boat, but whatever. At least the scenes in the fish tank are generally funny. We meet the B story characters, and they trust Nemo and encourage him, which makes them the opposite of Marlin. Okay. I'm 90% on board.

Fun and Games: All kinds of crazy things happen to Marlin and Dory as they travel together. This is the "looking for Nemo" part of Finding Nemo. This is where Pixar delivers on the premise of the movie, which is that a homebody fish must leave the safety of his home to find his son. The wacky adventures happen here.

Midpoint: This is where the stakes are raised. I'm not entirely sure what the midpoint of Finding Nemo is. My guess is when Nemo finds out that the dentist's niece is a fish-killer, and he's intended as her next victim pet. If someone can tell me in the comments what the midpoint is for Marlin, that would be great. Since he's the A story, it seems like it might be important. After all, he doesn't know anything about the dentist's niece. For me, this lack of clear midpoint for Marlin is what makes this part of the movie feel like it's dragging.

Bad Guys Close In: More challenges for Marlin and Dory as they try to get to P. Sherman 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney. Things get harder. Likewise, over at the dentist's office, the escape plan is not going well, and the terrifying niece has arrived.

All Is Lost: This is the "false defeat," the darkest point of the movie. Marlin, having made it to the dentist's office, thinks that Nemo is dead. He has failed.

Dark Night Of The Soul: Marlin leaves Dory, completely crushed. Dory, lost and forgetful, despairs.

Break Into Three: Gill helps Nemo escape, and Dory helps him find Marlin. It's great that the A and B stories have come together, but... Marlin doesn't do much.

Finale: Dory gets captured in the net. Nemo uses the lessons he learned in the tank (determination! self-efficacy!) and Marlin uses the lessons he learned on his journey (trust others! don't give up!) to save her.
And then there's the bit that drives me crazy. Marlin thinks that Nemo is dead again. We already hit that beat in All is Lost. Now they're just repeating themselves. For me, this scene would be so much stronger if Nemo came out victorious right off the bat and father and son shared a moment together reflecting on how they've changed.

Final Image: Marlin allows Nemo to go off to school without him, no longer painfully overprotective.

So there you have it. Finding Nemo mostly fits into these solid structural beats, except where it doesn't. For me, those are the worst parts of the movie. Too bad I didn't read Save the Cat! until 12 years after the movie came out. It would have saved me a lot of time trying to explain why I dislike it so much.

If you are struggling with plot or pacing, try applying this story structure to your book to see how it fits. Are you hitting all the right beats, in the right order, to build to a satisfying finale? Whether your story is told chronologically or not, getting the beats right is still important for overall reader satisfaction.

Agree or disagree, I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

    

Kara Analyzes Pixar Movies: CARS

I have three kids: two boys, and a girl. This means I've watched a lot of movies designed for children that I might not have chosen to watch on my own. Some just outright suck. Others are excellent opportunities to learn something I can use in my writing.

CARS is one of the latter.

If you haven't seen the movie, I suggest you watch it with your writer brain and pay close attention to the plot. Go do that, and come back. Just kidding, you can keep reading even if you haven't seen the movie.

The inciting incident in a story is the one that propels the story. If the inciting incident doesn't happen, the rest of the story doesn't happen. In CARS, it's Lightning McQueen falling out of Mack's trailer and getting lost on the highway. If this doesn't happen, he doesn't get to Radiator Springs, doesn't learn any lessons, and doesn't change.

The inciting incident is often something that passively happens to a character. Which isn't terrible, if the rest of the story happens because of choices actively made by your character. But in CARS, the inciting incident happens because of the main character's flaw. I'd say that is probably the strongest way to start a story.

Lightning McQueen is a selfish a-hole at the beginning of the movie. He forces Mack to drive through the night to get him to his race, instead of allowing him to sleep. He promises Mack he'll stay awake with him and keep him company while they drive, but instead he falls asleep. Finally, he surrounds himself with all kinds of crap that reminds him of how great he is (remember, the trailer door opens because a stupid Lightning McQueen toy falls on the switch).

Lightning finds himself in a pickle (or CONFLICT, the heart of all stories) because of his flaws. He spends the rest of the movie trying to overcome those flaws. We get to see how he slowly becomes less selfish and more mature, which makes the ending feel completely earned instead of rushed. Of course the new Lightning would have the heart to lose the most important race of his career. We have spent the entire movie watching him become that person (or racecar, if you will). He has earned his new heart.

(Don't get me started on the ending of CARS 2, which is a post for another day on how NOT to earn an ending.)

How can you apply this to your own writing? Examine your inciting incident. How does it come to pass? Does it happen to your character, or because of your character's choices? How does it affect the subsequent choices your character makes over the course of the book?

Incidentally, the inciting incident is also an important part of your query letter. You must show in your query what the inciting incident is, and how it's going to affect your character over the rest of the book. Writing the query letter can help you evaluate the strength of your inciting incident.

What's Your Easter Egg?

I hope everyone had a wonderful Easter! I spent mine trying to get some relaxation time in, while fixing some plot and character problems in one of my manuscripts. There was a place, a little more than 30% in, where it felt flat, and had no direction. Kind of like this:

Now what?

Ultimately, it meant I hadn't yet gotten to what that story really was--it was floundering, with nothing holding it together. I'd added too many directions, and made the story wider instead of deeper.

But it needed to go deeper. That was the creamy filling that the book's egg was missing.

Which meant my character needed a clear focus, a motivation, even after she'd experienced a pretty significant trauma. And it had to directly relate to the mid-point reversal.

And then, when I saw the the end of an episode of Better Call Saul, called Pimento, I finally found my missing Easter egg.

I won't ruin Better Call Saul for those who want to see it, but suffice to say that Saul (Jimmy) finds out that he's been strung along for quite awhile by someone he thought he trusted (which is exactly what happens to my protagonist). Watch if you dare:




My protagonist's motivation was not only to try to fill the holes in her life, but acknowledge that they were there in the first place. And because the antagonist would never allow her to do that, that's where they could bat heads at the mid-point reversal.

Armed with my Easter egg (and its creamy filling) I'll go back to revising that section with a completely new purpose--both with what the antagonist intends and how my protagonist has to get around it.

To to sum up, if you have a section of your book that's falling flat, revisit the following questions:

• What does my protagonist really want here (their Easter egg)? Why do they want it? How will it help him/her?
• What does my antagonist really want here (their Easter egg)? How will he/she thwart my protagonist's efforts to get what he/she wants?
• How will this section relate to the mid-point reversal (or other places where protagonist and antagonist go head-to-head)?

Hopefully, by the time you've worked through this, you'll find Easter eggs that you might not otherwise have discovered.

Your turn. What's your protagonists's Easter egg? Antagonist's Easter egg? How will they help your plot and character development?

I'll Make it Fit: Why Cramming Things Together is a Bad Idea

Having finished the second draft of my WIP, I've thought about my editing process, and what I learned from this past go-round. A lot of things came to mind, but the most important was the consequences of molding the story into something it wasn't (and having to back-track when that didn't work).

We've all been there, I'm sure. When revising the heck out of Plot A, Plot B comes along and says, "I'm the real story here. Plot A can suck it." So I cut too much to accommodate Plot B, and ended up having to re-add it back in (thank goodness for previous saved drafts).

The trick is to marry Plot A and Plot B in a way that doesn't feel forced:

"I'll make it fit!"

When we try to force story, it gets stifled, and turns into something it isn't meant to be. If you're encountering this, take a step back and see what your characters are doing.

That's right--I said characters. Not plot. Because the "making it fit" phenomenon happens when I'm trying to tell my characters what they're supposed to be doing. Making them speak, instead of letting them speak.

If you find that your novel is feeling forced, ask yourself the following:

1. Am I letting my characters discover their true selves, or am I adding unnecessary frills and forcing the story?

2. Does Plot B contradict the characters' actions that led up to the current scene? Or is there a way to tie it together to what will inevitably happen?

3.  Am I going wider? Or deeper? (Hint: Go deeper so the puzzle pieces fit, but don't feel forced.)

Once I found my villain's true motivation--simple, with no frills attached--Plot B finally said, "Oh! That's what you're doing. Okay, I can fit in this way..."

And because my villain's no-frills motivation was directly connected with my protagonist's inciting event, it let me see what was supposed to stay (and what needed to be cut). And at last, I saw my way to the end.

So what about you? What do you do when things don't fit?

Plot running astray?

The second draft of my novel has gone in so many unexpected directions, it feels more like a first draft, and I wish I could do NaNo WriMo with the rest of you wonderful people.

In my revisions, I built an ever-increasing word count that bordered on gluttonous, and it eventually ran my story into the ground. Kind of like this:

For days, I hemmed over how to jump start everything into gear. The answer came when I helped a student hone in on her research paper thesis. I told her a mantra from my own papers: "Stick to your thesis like glue."

I realized my novel's thesis was my synopsis and query, and I hadn't stuck to them at all. Notes and changes were spread across multiple documents, and there was a story thread that didn't need to be there. That's what was blocking my path.

Here's how I got myself untangled:

Step 1: Revised query and synopsis to reflect new story directions, and stuck to it like glue

Step 2: Condensed proposed story changes into a manageable to-do list

Step 3: Sliced out extra story threads that didn't belong

So far, I've been able to subtract 4,000 words, and I now have a clear path to the end:

I hope, whether you're doing NaNo WriMo, or if you're buried in revisions like I am, that you can stick to your query and synopsis (or outline, if that's your preference). Especially if you find your plot tangled or your story stalled. Letting go of what you don't need makes everything a ton easier.

Your turn: What are some ways you've tamed your unruly plots?

Pre-Writing for NaNoWriMo

Do you pre-write when you NaNo? The first time I did NaNoWriMo, I didn't do any pre-writing at all. It was strictly a stream of consciousness. What came out was somewhat, well, rambling, as streams of consciousness tend to be.

For a first draft, rambling isn't such a terrible thing. It only means that revision will be extremely important, and most likely time-consuming. Sure enough, it was. In fact, at the end of revision, I wasn't sure the story actually worked.

The next time I did NaNoWriMo, I came across a blog post about pre-writing, and was intrigued. The writer suggested I plot it all out in my head before writing, hitting all the major checkpoints of story architecture.

While there are many methods you can use to plot, my favorite is from Save the Cat. It's actually a book about screenwriting. You may be into screenwriting or you may not, but the structure of writing for film is extremely helpful to any fiction writer. It cuts all the darlings away to reveal the bones of the story, and the reason it does this is simply that the format of film is performing to the shortest attention spans in the world. Master this art of storytelling for film, and you'll be a master of the novel, as well.

Save the Cat has a chapter listing 15 'beats,' on The Blake Snyder Beat Sheet. A simple way to pre-write for NaNo would be to list these beats out on a piece of paper or a Word doc, and fill them in with your basic premise.

1. Opening Image
2. Theme Stated
3. Set-up
4. Catalyst
5. Debate
6. Break into Two
7. B Story
8. Fun and Games (I like to call this one The Musical Montage)
9. Midpoint
10. Bad Guys Close In
11. All Is Lost
12. Dark Night of the Soul
13. Break into Three
14. Finale
15. Final Image

For more incredibly helpful detail on these beats, buy Blake Snyder's book.

My NaNo project this year is a spiritual time travel story. What's yours?

Bread Crumbs & Tying Things Together

I'm currently in the beginning stages of sending Open Thy Heart to betas, and being as this is the second in a series, I've found that not only is there the usual plot/writing stuff to do, but there's also a whole lot of tying things together. Like...

Re-introducing the characters. Reminding the reader as to who feels this way about whom, and why. Pointing out the problems in the previous book and gently refreshing the reader's memory on how they were resolved, and more.

This time, I'm on a bit of a deadline, and have found that the usual, no-rush timeframe of, well, getting this done whenever I want, isn't working so well. (Sad face.) Which means... coffee! (Just kidding. Sort of. Okay, not really.) Which (actually) means... lists! There is nothing more assuring and satisfying than crossing items off a list, especially that very last one, and boy do I have a list to go over. My editor once referred to the little clues given throughout the book that lead to the big revelations later on as "bread crumbs", and I love this description. So, my list currently consists of the laying out of bread crumbs. More importantly, making sure they are

1) consistent throughout the story

2) consistent for the characters

3) leading to proper revelations

4) keeping with the overall plot

5) keeping with the overall plot not only of this book, but with the series

I probably forgot something, but these are the most applicable. How about you? Is there a certain way you look at your storyline to ensure everything's tied up by the end? I'd love to hear about it! :)

(For another good list to go over whilst editing, check out Abby's recent Gesture Clutches.)

Looking at our work in a new light

"Who are you, and how did I
end up in your arms?"

As I prepared to write today's post, I was pleasantly surprised to see that Amy wrote about the same kind of experience regarding writing epiphanies last week.

I'm currently in the process of editing a novella that's due to come out very soon, and something about it has been bugging me. (Imagine the baby in the above photo as the novella, and the guy holding his head as me. The baby/novella is totally confused, and the man/me is like, Arghhh... Now what do I do?)

After receiving the editor's notes and working on it for a couple of days, I knew the thing bugging me had to be addressed, and (nervously) sent an email. Her response turned out to be a great. I let out the breath I'd been holding for over a day. Her suggestion? *Simplify* it. Make it fun. That's it! (You'd think that would have been obvious, but sometimes we get stuck on specifics and try to make too much of things and lose sight of the big picture.)

The flood gates of ideas opened, and suddenly, I knew exactly what to do. That's the good thing about epiphanies: they make for such a pleasant writing experience! Even if more work is necessary, that's okay, because you know the solution. The end is in sight!

I like this quote by Marcel Proust:

The voyage of discovery is not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes. 

Here's to new eyes for all of you, no matter where you are in the writing process!

The Power of Absence

Absence

Sometimes the most powerful aspect of a character is his absence. 

Absence not only makes the heart grow fonder, but also more suspicious, anxious, and curious. A great example of this in a published book is Reth in Kiersten White's Paranormalcy trilogy. 

Kiersten White created a whole cast of compelling characters, but Reth stood out to me as particularly compelling.

As I read this book for the first time, I found that if Reth was on stage, I couldn't even put my book down to go to the bathroom! I just knew something incredible/freaky/twisted was going to happen before he vanished again. 

How did she do that?

Here are some thoughts:

• She limited his appearances: Reth only shows up when it matters. There's no idle chit chat with him. She doesn't show him going to the bathroom (if faeries even do that sort of thing).
• She showed other people's responses to him: We see the gestures of fear, hear the interior monologue of the MC whenever he's around--and after he leaves. Because we know how Reth makes her feel, we know how he ought to make us feel. 
• She made him round: We all remember from school the difference between a round character and a flat character. Flat is like Dolores Umbridge from Harry Potter. She has no character arc, learns no lesson, makes no great change. She is who she is, and that's an evil pink dictator. Round, like Reth, is a character who is both good and bad, who has depth, who may change at any moment, or whom we are just now getting to know. Through the whole book, I think I know what kind of faerie Reth is, and then Wablammy! My perception of him changes with one well-placed revelation.
• She gave him a connection to the main character:  There's a reason I picked a side character for this little analysis. Main characters are almost always well-developed. We spend the most time with them, creating their back stories, giving them a favorite color, favorite TV show, favorite pet peeve. Reth is not the main character in Paranormalcy, but you get the feeling at times that it's his story, too. Kiersten accomplishes that feeling by giving him a very strong connection to the main character. He isn't just a possessive faerie, as he first seems. He's much more to Evie. Even before any grand revelations, we can feel that connection and it makes him important--compelling. 

Absence is also particularly powerful in love stories. Think Stephenie Meyer's New Moon. After Edward leaves (in order to protect Bella from his dangerous eating habits), she falls into a deep depression. Rather than going on for pages about how depressed she is, Meyer fills several pages with nothing. The only word on the page is the empty month it represents to Bella. 

October

November

December

January

The following chapter is called "Waking Up," but even as Bella comes out of the depression to enjoy a friendship with Jacob, Edward's absence remains the driving force in the story. It drives her to an obsession with motorcycles, which brings her straight to Jacob and a relationship that changes all of their lives. 

Absence did that.

In Harry Potter 2, the absence of letters from his friends makes HP's summer particularly painful. In Book 5, the absence of information and visitors drives Harry to become resentful for the first time in his adventures. Dumbledore's absence is repeatedly used to drive Harry, Hermione, and Ron toward danger. 

The absence of one or more parents has a profound impact on any character. Some of the best stories have stripped their heroes of all family, leaving them driven either for revenge or to get those family members back.

This week I've suffered through the absence of my husband as he works in California and I visit my family post-baby in Utah. Even though I'm surrounded by family, nobody can replace Bill. His absence impacts my every thought and action. My sister is here, a senior airman and military spouse, waiting for her husband's next assignment so they can be together again. For her, it has been much longer than a week. 

Absence is a powerful force. Think how it's affected your life, and you'll know exactly how to torture your characters. 

Happy Weekend Reading! 

What will you read this weekend? 

(I'm still working on Writing the Breakout Novel by Donald Maass)