Writing Mechanics - Steven R. Southard (Poseidon's Scribe)

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Ay, Now the Plot Thickens

When George Villiers, the 2nd Duke of Buckingham wrote those words for his play “The Rehearsal” in 1663, I believe he had today’s blog post in mind. For, ay, I intend to discuss how to plot a story.

First, what is a plot? It is simply a series of connected fictional events. Here are two rules about these events:

1. In a non-humorous story, the connections between events should be logical, with a minimum of lucky coincidences; the events should be related by cause and effect.

2. To make your story appealing to readers, there should be a certain structure to these events. That is, experience has shown this particular plot structure (sometimes called a “dramatic arc”) to have a maximum emotional impact.

But how are rules 1 and 2 related? What does it mean to have a cause-and-effect chain of events that rises and falls? Think of it this way. Your story must have a protagonist with a problem, a conflict of some kind. Often there is both an external and internal conflict.

I’ve said before that stories are about the human condition. More specifically, stories show human ways of dealing with problems. It may seem strange to generalize that way, but without a problem or conflict, you have no story. Even if there are no humans in your tale, your non-human characters are really just standing in for people.

Back to plotting. Think of the series of events (Rule 1) as events showing your protagonist encountering an initial obstacle, overcoming it, then encountering a worse one, overcoming that one, etc. Each obstacle thrown at her causes her to struggle against it. Her struggle causes the antagonist (which may be a person or nature or anything) to oppose her even more. That’s what Villiers described as a plot thickening.

Think of the dramatic arc (Rule 2) as a portrayal of the increasing difficulties for your protagonist as she contends with her problems. Tensions should increase in this section, culminating in a climactic turning point. There she must confront both her external and internal problems. The remaining events convey the resolution of the conflict and represent a decrease in tension.

Although I’ve geared this discussion to short stories, all fiction is similar. Screenwriter H. R. D’Costa has written a wonderful blog post providing the secrets of movie plot structures.

Oh, one more thing about problems and resolutions—if you have a problem with what I’ve said in this blog post, leave a comment and I’ll try to resolve it. I also accept praise by the heapful. I’ll close by saying, Ay, now the plot’s been thickened by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

September 1, 2013Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Pantzers vs. Plotters

One of the ways writers differ is in the type of preparation work they do before the first draft. Some, called pantzers, write that draft “from the seat of their pants.” Plotters, by contrast, organize and lay out their story’s plot and characters within some sort of outline before writing one word of the story.

These two approaches might be epitomized by two zodiac signs, and the personality traits attributed to each. Aries is characterized by impulsiveness and rushing right ahead—a pantzer. Virgo is characterized by analysis and careful prior thought—a plotter. Astrology is bunk, of course, but that comparison gave me an image for this blog entry.

Which type are you? Is one approach better than the other?

Here are some advantages the pantzers claim:

I write stories faster, without having to do all that preparatory work first. While the plotter is still doing her careful outline, I’m a quarter done with my first draft.
My writing has a sense of spontaneity, of natural flow; since I don’t know what is going to happen next, neither do my readers.
I’ve learned to trust my instincts. I’ll figure out which way to go when I get there. The story has its own direction, and I’ll figure it out.
I write with a feeling of freedom, without having added a constricting, constraining outline. If I used an outline, I’d feel like I shackled myself.

But the plotters counter with the benefits of their method:

I dispute the pantzers claim of writing faster. I think plotting helps me avoid getting stuck.
Good prior planning helps me avoid the kind of re-writing pantzers do to add in earlier parts so the later parts make sense.
Without a plot outline and some character sketches, I’d lose focus, forget where I’m going, and write aimlessly.
I write with a sense of comfort knowing I’ve got things all planned out.

I suspect this is really a sort of spectrum, a continuum of ways to write, and that very few people are really located at the extreme ends. That is, I suspect pantzers do a little bit more pre-plotting than they’re willing to admit, even if the organization is not written down. For their part, plotters aren’t always so wedded to their outlines as they think; they’ll deviate if the story takes off in a different direction as they write.

Further, authors may well move back and forth along that spectrum as their career progresses. They may even find some stories require more pre-planning than others, so they become adept at both methods. My guess—and it’s only a guess—is that among the more accomplished and prolific authors there are more pantzers than plotters. I think they’ve developed sufficient writing skills so they no longer need a written outline and have come to trust their abilities in avoiding, or writing their way out of, plot problems.

As for me, I’m further over toward the plotter side, though I’ve been exhibiting pantzer tendencies lately. Those who adhere to the snowflake method of writing are definite plotters. Most of the writing software packages out there are dedicated to plotters. Pantzers would find the snowflake and such writing software quite frustrating.

So, in this battle of pantzers vs. plotters, who wins? Naturally, you do! You can choose how to write your stories in the manner that suits you best. You can change that method later if you want, depending on what ends up working for you. Please leave me a comment letting me know whether you’re a pantzer or a plotter, and why. It’s okay to share your secret with the Internet, and with—

Poseidon’s Scribe

May 21, 2013Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Describing Your Characters’ Feelings

How are your characters feeling? It’s important for your readers to know. I’ve written an earlier post about conveying a character’s thoughts, and another one about facial expressions, but it’s time to tackle emotions.

For this blog post I’m going to regard ‘feelings,’ ’emotions,’ and ‘moods’ as being synonymous, even though neuroscientists draw distinctions between these terms.

Emotions are part of the human experience, and seem to result from how we’re hard-wired, what our individual background has been, and a recent external or internal stimulus. Since we all have emotions in the real world, the characters in your fiction must have them too, to make them convincing.

Whether there are six basic emotions, as depicted by Dr. Paul Ekman…

…or eight as pictured by Dr. Robert Plutchik…

…writers just need to know there are many emotions, and characters can feel them in combinations and in various intensities.

As a writer, it’s your job to convey these emotions to the reader with clarity and accuracy. There shouldn’t be a doubt in the reader’s mind about what a character is feeling.

How do you do that? Here are some guidelines to follow:

Make sure the emotion is appropriate. Remember, it’s based on a character’s background, but is also a response to a recent stimulus.
Show the emotion through the character’s actions: speech (not only what is said, but word choice and tone of voice), facial expressions, hand motions, or body posture.
Show the emotion by describing the character’s thoughts or mental state.
Use metaphors and similes, but shun clichés.
In certain situations (fast action scenes, very short fiction, or if applicable to a minor character or sub-plot), just tell the character’s emotion. This is not as effective as other methods and indicates amateurish writing if used too often.

If you get stuck trying to portray a character’s emotion in words, one technique that might help is to recall a time when you had that feeling yourself. See if you can draw on that memory and maybe even recreate the emotional state within yourself. If you can conjure up within yourself the same emotion your character is feeling, you stand a good chance of finding words to describe it.

There are some helpful websites that list adjectives useful in describing emotions, notably this one and this one. But I caution against an over-reliance on such adjectives. It’s more effective to show emotions through a character’s actions or by describing what’s going on inside the character’s mind.

How did this blog post make you feel? Are you now confident you can convey a character’s feelings in a more precise way? I welcome comments from you on this topic; in fact few things in life bring greater joy and serenity to—

Poseidon’s Scribe

April 21, 2013Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Leave Yourself Wanting More

You’ve heard the show business adage, “Always leave them wanting more,” meaning an entertainer should exit the stage before the audience gets bored. By the same principle, novelist and poet Helen Dunmore said you should “finish the day’s writing when you still want to continue.”

Why is that? There seems to be some important facet of human nature at work here. To cite another example of this phenomenon, I used to read to my children when they were quite young, but I tried to observe them as I read to look for the early signs of boredom. In time I found I could stop reading, even in the middle of a book, and tell them that was it for the night. They’d beg me to go on, but I wouldn’t, because I knew I’d timed it right.

The human brain seems unusually good at pattern recognition and associating things together. If your brain associates a given entertainer with a feeling of boredom, you’ll be less likely to pay for a ticket next time. Similarly, if a child associates books with a feeling of interest and yearning for more, the child will likely develop a love of reading.

Let’s say it’s late at night and you’ve been writing for a while. You are at the point when you usually go to bed. You know you should call it quits, but you’re so near the end of a section, or chapter, or the whole book. Moreover, you’re in the flow, and the words are coming out well, better than usual. If you can just push it a little longer, you’ll achieve the satisfaction of completing something good.

This is the moment of decision, and you’re tempted to push on. If you do, and your fatigue causes you to get stuck for words, your brain can start associating writing with being stuck and tired. That leads to writer’s block.

However, if you save your work and turn off the computer now, your brain will associate writing with being in the flow, with feelings of interest and enthusiasm. Moreover, you’ll get the sleep you need.

It’s a funny thing, but you needn’t worry about forgetting overnight what you were going to write next. When you come back to your manuscript the next day all the memories flood back in, along with the confidence and fervor of the previous night, and pretty soon you’re in the zone again.

If you wish, before you finish for the night (even in the middle of a sentence!) you could jot down some quick notes of where the prose was headed. By some mysterious mental mechanism, your brain will be thinking subconsciously during your non-writing interval, working out better phrasing, solving plot problems, etc. The next day when you resume, you may find you have better ideas than you ended up with the night before.

Has this been your experience? Do you agree with Helen Dunmore and me, or do you adhere to a different school of thought? Leave a comment and let me know. There’s much more I want to say, but I’ll stop here, so you’ll associate feelings of fascination with—

Poseidon’s Scribe

March 31, 2013Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Is Your First Draft Terrible Enough?

That’s not a typo; I’m questioning whether the first draft of your story is horrible, trashy, and amateurish enough to qualify as a first draft. I’m not talking about cacography here, I’m talking about tripe, drivel, bunkum.

Yes, I know all writers are different and for some, their first draft is their publishable, final draft. Isaac Asimov said he didn’t re-write his stories. But I’m guessing that doesn’t work for most writers, especially beginning writers.

For most of you, here’s my advice: set out to write a bad first draft. Why? I’ll explain.

The first draft is unlike all later ones in that it has no predecessor, just a blank screen (or page) and a writer’s mind buzzing with ideas. That moment before you write the first word is a daunting one; the task seems mountainous. Often that story idea in your head seems so perfect, you just know readers will love it.

But when you try writing down that idea, it looks so awful it’s embarrassing. The text falls far short of the shining, crystalline structure in your mind. You can get so frustrated you’ll be tempted to abandon the whole stupid idea. “What was I thinking? I’m no writer!”

I’m suggesting it’s best to admit up front your first draft will be garbage. That way you’re establishing reasonable expectations and lessening the frustration. Trust in your ability to improve the first draft later. Accept that those later revisions will be easier than writing the first draft; you will get closer to the ideal story in your mind.

How do you write a first draft that qualifies as pure dreck? Think of your writing mind as having at least four component parts, four people with distinct attributes. These are your muse, your playful inner child, your squint-eyed editor, and your glad-handing marketer.

I’ve described the muse before. By the time you’re writing your first draft, her job is done and she’s left town. Think of your squinty-eyed editor as a scowling old man with an eyeshade and a huge supply of blue pencils. Send this editor on vacation now. Trust me, he’ll come back well-rested to help you with your second draft. As to that ever-smiling, extroverted marketer with the plaid suit, he’s on vacation most of the time and that’s okay for now.

Let’s focus on the one I left out, the playful inner child. I suggest you picture the character Josh Baskin, played by Tom Hanks in the 1988 movie “Big.” He was pure drive, energy, and enthusiasm. He had no inhibitions, no taboos, and no fear of failure.

Channel that character as you write your first draft. Strive to get in the zone, in the flow. If you find yourself momentarily stuck, write down what you will need later to get past the sticky part, put that in brackets (or different font or color, whatever), and move on. For example, knowing how important the opening hook is, let’s say you can’t think of one. Just write “[come up with hook]” and write on. Chances are the words you write next might serve as a hook, or a hook will occur to you later. Don’t stop to do research now, just bracket it, “[Do whales really get hiccups?],” and look it up later.

Even though your first draft is a stinking pile of compost, you’ll feel better about having something written down, something you can now work with. Further, by writing in burst mode, you can maintain a consistent, integrated work that maintains the same tone and voice throughout.

More great first draft advice is available here, here, and here. By the way, do you think this blog post is poorly written? Ha! You should have seen the first draft typed up by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

March 24, 2013Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Details,Details…

When I said I’d blog about choosing details wisely in writing fiction, I meant it; I just didn’t say how soon I’d get around to it! Writers often have to describe scenes, characters, or objects in their stories. Which details do they choose to mention, and why?

First let’s examine some of the things writers try to accomplish in their descriptions:

First and foremost, create an image in the reader’s mind
Convey the mood and theme of the story
Show the attitude, personality, and mood of the point-of-view character
Foreshadow a later event
Illustrate connections to, or separations from, other scenes, characters, or objects in the story

That seems like a lot to accomplish, a lot of baggage to weigh down a few words. Partly for that reason, in books written in the Nineteenth Century and earlier, descriptions were long and tedious. Writers weren’t as selective about details; they threw them all in. Today’s readers won’t stand for that, so as a modern writer you’ll have to keep your descriptions brief.

Say you’re writing about something or someone and you want to convey the image to the reader’s mind. How do you choose the details? Here are some guidelines:

1. Three is a magic number, as far as the number of details to pick. Don’t stray too far from it either way.

2. Specific details beat general ones every time.

3. Nouns and verbs are better than adjectives, and adjectives are better than adverbs.

4. Consider using a mind map to mentally play with all the details you can think of, then select the few that best serve your purposes.

5. You don’t have to gather all the details together in one place, in one solid paragraph. You can sprinkle some of them around later in the scene; that helps break up the narration and keeps the image fresh in the reader’s mind.

Here’s an exercise you can do to improve your skills in selecting details for your descriptions. Pick something to describe–the scene out your window, a movie or TV character, a household object. Now create a mind map filled with key words about your chosen thing. Next write two description paragraphs, one in a happy mood and one in a sad mood. Write two more paragraphs, each as if narrated by characters with opposite personalities. Write another one that contrasts your chosen thing with some other. Just as no two witnesses describe a traffic accident the same way, using the same details, there are innumerable ways to describe anything.

Let’s analyze how George Orwell described the scene outside a character’s window at the beginning of his novel, 1984.

Outside, even through the shut window-pane, the world looked cold. Down in the street little eddies of wind were whirling dust and torn paper into spirals, and though the sun was shining and the sky a harsh blue, there seemed to be no colour in anything, except the posters that were plastered everywhere. The black moustachio’d face gazed down from every commanding corner. There was one on the house-front immediately opposite. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption said, while the dark eyes looked deep into Winston’s own. Down at street level another poster, torn at one corner, flapped fitfully in the wind, alternately covering and uncovering the single word INGSOC. In the far distance a helicopter skimmed down between the roofs…

In addition to giving a concrete image, this certainly conveys mood and theme, and also foreshadows. I like the contrast between nature (shining sun, blue sky) and man-made items (torn paper, poster flapping, commanding corners). Well-chosen details.

More practice will increase your skills at picking details to include. Leave me a detailed comment if you got something out of this blog post. Knowing the devil is in the details, I’m—

Poseidon’s Scribe

February 9, 2013Poseidon's ScribePermalink

It’s Written All Over Your Face

facial-expressions- It’s important for a fiction writer to learn how to describe human facial expressions. A person’s face is the most communicative body area, and often it reveals a character’s feelings. Amazing, isn’t it, how many things we can make our faces do! There may be as many facial aspects as there are possible mental states.

Small wonder there are so many English verbs devoted to describing a person’s mien: blanch, blush, grimace, grin, smirk, etc. It surprised me to find the Wikipedia article on Facial Expressions only listed six “classically defined facial expressions: Anger, Disgust, Fear, Joy, Sadness, and Surprise. However, the article goes on to list “other examples of feelings that can be expressed” including: Concentration, Contempt, Desire, Empathy, Frustration, and Love. Maybe the list isn’t infinitely long, but it doesn’t end at six.

Writers aren’t restricted to single-word descriptions of human facial expressions, of course. Sometimes it’s useful to describe what’s happening on a character’s face and trust the reader to recognize the expression and deduce the character’s feelings. In Clement Clarke Moore’s poem known popularly as “The Night Before Christmas,” we encounter the line, “His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,” and we know St. Nicholas is smiling, and therefore is happy. Although you could break down all facial expressions and describe them in detail in your story, that would get tedious, so be sparing in your use of that technique.

Of course you shouldn’t restrict yourself to describing facial expressions alone. Your characters adopt bodily poses, make hand gestures and other movements. These can also express mood, sometimes more accurately than the face does when a character is trying to hide his or her feelings.

Returning to my subject of faces, I should also mention that characters (like real people) can have, well, characteristic or habitual facial expressions. These might be due to an almost perpetual non-neutral mood, or some nervous habit. Giving a character one of these habitual expressions can help readers become familiar with the character.

While doing research for this blog entry, I came across some great references for writers.

Descriptive Faces–A Resource for Writersis a blog set up by writer Charity Bradford where she discusses facial expressions in detail.
The Nonverbal Dictionary contains a list of at least 250 nonverbal expressions, each linked to detailed discussions.
The Bookshelf Muse website offers a book called The Emotion Thesaurus by Angela Ackerman, and Becca Puglisi. Although I haven’t read the book, some sample entries from it are available on the site.
The MacMillan Dictionary has a website listing words for describing facial expressions, and their meanings.

Was this helpful? What are your favorite ways to describe character’s facial expressions? Can you think of an example where a writer did it particularly well? Feel free to send me a comment on the subject. Since this blog entry is in the written medium, you can’t see what’s written all over the face of—

Poseidon’s Scribe

January 27, 2013Poseidon's ScribePermalink

To Do, Or Be Done To?

That is the question. Today I’ll cover one of my pet peeves—passive sentence construction, as contrasted with the active version.

Defining these types is easy. In active sentence construction (also called ‘active voice’) the subject of the sentence performs the action described by the verb. In passive construction, the subject is the recipient of the action.

For example, here are two sentences from a recent story of mine:

Doctor Rudolph Wellburn looked up from his workbench as Red dragged the trampled man through his door.

The man had been bound with ropes to three tree limbs lashed together.

In the first, the subject is the doctor, Wellburn, and the verb is looked. There’s another clause with its subject Red and verb dragged. Both are active, since the subject is performing the action. In the second sentence, which is passive, the subject man has had an action done to him, described by the ‘had been bound’ verb.

It’s possible to convert sentences back and forth between the two voices. I could have phrased the first sentence as “The workbench was looked up from by Doctor Rudolph Wellburn as…” I also could have worded the second sentence as “Red had bound the man with ropes…” I’ll soon reveal why I didn’t do that.

I think of active sentences as direct, honest, and clear. They also seem stronger to me. Passive sentences, with their ability to hide the subject entirely, seem dishonest, confusing, and weak. Needless to say, I prefer active sentences. At my workplace many others write in passive sentences, so I’m on a one-man crusade to change all that. Change has to start somewhere!

Ulysses S Grant - mistakes were made Among the worst passive sentences ever written is “Mistakes were made.” Politicians since Ulysses S. Grant have used that one to acknowledge a problem but to hide the responsible party from blame. However, the press and the public are on to that tactic, and would pounce on any official who uttered it (after laughing out loud).

By now you’re wondering why Poseidon’s Scribe has stated a firm bias against passive sentences, and yet used one in a recent story. There are several valid reasons for using passive sentences:

1. The doer of the action is unknown, unwanted, or unneeded in the sentence.

2. The action of the sentence needs more emphasis or focus than the doer of the action.

3. Sentence variety.

4. Putting the subject at the end of the sentence can delay its impact to achieve surprise or humor.

I chose a passive sentence in my story for reason 1, since the identity of the person who bound the man to the tree limbs was unimportant to the story. Police reports use passive sentences when the person who committed the crime is unknown. Scientists often use passive sentences for reason 2, to emphasize the experiment, not the experimenter, and to sound more objective.

But in your fiction writing I advocate sticking to active sentences as much as you can. Weed out passive ones, and make each one defend its place in your story. Remember, passive sentences are easier to write and you can fall into the habit of favoring them unless you make the effort to avoid them.

Am I being too harsh on passive sentences? Leave a comment and let me know. I’m not infallible, after all, but I’m not too proud to admit that mistakes were made by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

P.S. Be sure to check this space on Wednesday, December 19. I’ll be participating in a blog hop called The Next Big Thing. You wouldn’t want to miss the next big thing, would you?

P.S.

December 16, 2012Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Sorry, New Rule. You Can’t Do That!

In the original Star Trek TV series, there’s an episode where Captain Kirk invents a card game called Fizzbin in which he makes up the rules as he goes along. The comic strip Calvin and Hobbes featured a game called Calvinball which may never be played by the same rules twice.

If you’re a writer of fiction, you might consider yourself to be playing such a game, too. According to W. Somerset Maugham, “There are three rules for writing the novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.” With apologies to the famous novelist, I’d say the game has too many rules to memorize and they change with time, according to the tastes of readers. Only by playing the game well can you can make money selling books.

You might try to emulate great writers of the past and imitate their writing styles, in an effort to achieve success. Bad idea. The rules were different in their time. Let’s cover some of those former rules.

1. Take all the time you need to create a vivid description, to ‘paint’ with words. Writers of the 19th Century and earlier used extensive portrayals to convey the appearance of a scene or character, multi-paragraph descriptions abounding in adjectives. That worked well in an era without movies or TV, but readers won’t wade through such long-winded descriptions today.

2. Adverbs exist for a reason; use them. Authors once used adverbs with abandon. Adverbs modify adjectives or verbs and often end in ‘ly’ like ‘crazily.’ These days it’s considered lazy to use too many adverbs, a sign you didn’t take time to select a powerful enough verb.

3. Demonstrate your skill as an author in your narrative paragraphs; dialogue only interferes with that. At one time, fiction was mostly narration, with occasional dialogue. We’re now in an age of character-driven stories, and readers want characters to talk more. No long, boring narrative paragraphs, and less narration overall.

4. Incorporate a rather dull character who needs everything explained to him (even things he already knows); that’s a clever way to explain things to the reader. There was an era when authors could use this technique even if it strained the conversation a bit. These days, that’s no longer tolerated and there’s even a term for it–As You Know, Bob or AYKB. AYKB’s are tempting, an easy trap to fall into even if you make every effort to avoid them.

5. Bring the narrator in as an entity the reader can trust, as one who helps foreshadow future events. In a bygone past, writers could have the narrator speak directly to the reader. And now, Gentle Reader, let us discover what Annabel must be thinking about this latest development. That voice could be used to foreshadow future events in an ominous tone. Little did Frank know, but his secure life would soon be altered forever. Understand, it’s still okay to use foreshadowing, but do it with subtlety, and not with the narrator speaking to the reader. Today that’s referred to as narrative intrusion.

6. Find clever new ways to express your ideas. As centuries of writers did this, many of the word combinations they used were so good the first time, they got used again, and re-used many times over. And became clichés. Now you don’t get to use those clichés, unless you add some twist on them. Go think of your own clever word combo that might become a future cliché. This rule didn’t change, but sorry, you can’t use the same tired clichés.

7. Ease into your story by introducing the reader to the setting, time period, and major characters before any action occurs. Readers in those times had nothing to compete with books for entertainment, and had the time to curl up near the fire and read a cozy story by its light. Times are different. You must grab your reader by the throat with a first sentence or paragraph that demands attention. It’s called a hook, and stories without a good one stay un-bought.

So, are you up for a game like Fizzbin or Calvinball? May the best writer win! Unfortunately, the game’s rules aren’t known by you or—

Poseidon’s Scribe

November 25, 2012Poseidon's ScribePermalink

Character, Plot, or Setting—Which Comes First?

Today’s question is about whether story-writers think about characters, plot, or setting when they first conceive the idea for a story. If you’ve written fiction, or thought about doing so, which did you start with?

Of these three story elements, perhaps character is most important to the reader. For readers, vivid and interesting characters linger in the memory long after plot or setting details fade. Some writers form a complete mental image of one or more characters, and then wonder what to have them do, and where to have them do it.

For other authors, the first image is of a setting. The scenery is sharp and distinct in their minds. Perhaps they have a photograph or painting to inspire them, and they decide to craft a tale around that image. Some story contests use pictures to prompt stories.

Still others think of the action or story-line or basic situation first. Only after that do they wonder what sort of people should take those actions and where the events should take place.

The image is my attempt to illustrate some of the possibilities graphically.

I’m talking here only about the initial impetus for the story. That’s not what the readers reads. In the end, the story must form a complete, coherent, integral whole. Characters, plot, and setting should fit together and complement each other. This is especially true of characters and plot. In a sense, plot and character determine each other. In a well-written tale, those are the only characters for which the plot makes sense, and vice versa. You can’t take any characters at random and fit them in any situation.

I doubt there is any right answer to my question about which element writers should think of first. I’d be shocked to learn if the greatest writers all started with the same element, but I suspect we’ll never know.

I considered the question with respect to my own short stories, and thought at first I had some stories in each category. Then I reflected on each tale one by one and discovered I had thought of plot first in almost every case. There were three stories in which the plot immediately determined the characters. In “Alexander’s Odyssey” and “The Wind-Sphere Ship,” the characters were historical or mythological figures. In the case of “The Steam Elephant,” my sequel to a pair of Jules Verne novels, the characters had been established by Verne.

The single exception to my usual practice of dreaming up a plot first is my story, “Against All Gods,” and I must admit I thought of the setting first there. I’d wanted to set a story aboard a trireme for some time, and also the Wonders of the Ancient World, so I started with those and conjured up a plot and characters to fit those settings.

Not that it matters to readers, who only see your finished product, but which do you think of first—characters, plot, or setting? Let me know by leaving a comment. It’s a question of interest to—

Poseidon’s Scribe

October 14, 2012Poseidon's ScribePermalink