Yearly Archives: 2022

Scene Plotting

It’s tough enough to lay out the plot for a book. Now I’m supposed to have a plot for each scene? Seriously?

Yeah, seriously. This past week I watched on online Zoom presentation by author John Claude Bemis. He called the technique ‘microplotting.’ I’ll introduce it here, in my own words. Any differences between what he meant and what I wrote are my errors, not his.

First, why does each scene of your book need a plot, if the overall book already has one? Bemis says it’s because there won’t be enough truly dramatic moments in your book to hold a reader’s interest. You need something in between those moments to keep your audience engaged.

What’s that something? Smaller dramas along the way. A plot for each scene. These small plots may lack the overall intensity or import of your book’s overall plot, but they should contain elements of anticipation, tension, and expectation to keep readers eager for more.

According to Bemis, each scene should either advance your overall plot or deepen the reader’s understanding of a character, or—better—both. He suggests putting yourself in the mind of the reader. Your scene should introduce a question in the reader’s mind. Before answering that one, introduce another question to keep the anticipation going. Don’t forget to answer each question, though, to resolve the tensions you’ve created.

Bemis provides five questions to ask yourself as you start to structure a scene:

  1. What does the character want? Maybe to reach a location, to obtain something, to answer a question, or to persuade someone.
  2. Why can’t the character get what she wants? Some obstacle, some friction with another person, or some internal barrier, perhaps.
  3. What will the character do about the problem? It’s better to have characters earn their objectives by their own efforts, rather than by luck or coincidence.
  4. Why don’t the character’s efforts work? Use events and dialogue in the scene to challenge your character. Introduce twists and turns. Don’t make the problem easy.
  5. How will this ‘microplot’ end? If with success, you’ll satisfy reader expectations. If with failure, at least you’ve got the reader rooting for your character as the book goes on.

Just as a magnifying glass reveals small and interesting details that make up a whole picture, so your microplots keep a reader fascinated enough to make it through your whole book.

Be careful with your magnifying glass, though. Don’t misuse it to burn up any books by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

January 16, 2022Permalink

When Robots Write Better

Here’s a thought experiment. We know researchers push Artificial Intelligence (AI) technology further all the time. What if AI begins writing stories and novels better than humans do?

To make it more fun, let’s assume AI lags behind humans in all other areas. That is, AI programs start to write wonderful fiction, but accomplish nothing else of note.

At this point, that seems unlikely. According to this article by Andrew Mayne, AI has made some progress writing two-sentence flash fiction. and author Erik Hoel found AI did a fair job of generating reasonable prose when he fed it prompts from one of his novels. To date, no AI has written a story or novel that has been widely read as literature.

Before AI comes to the point of writing better than humans, we’ll pass through a phase where human writers partner with AI to improve their productivity. A human author will come up with a story concept—characters, plot, setting—and put the AI to work generating text. The human will then edit and submit. We’re pretty close to that now, with software such as Marlowe, AI Dungeon, Jarvis AI, and GPT-3.

Perhaps not long after that, some AI software might become capable enough to create the story concept and write the manuscript and edit it. At some point, such submissions will pass a literary version of the Turing Test. A human editor won’t be able to tell if a human or AI wrote a story. In fact, some experts believe AI will write a best-seller by 2049.

A short time later, AIs might become capable of writing stories and novels better than any human writer. By that, I mean human readers might come to prefer fiction written by AI.

Since fiction explores the human condition and is designed to provoke an emotional reaction in human readers, my thought experiment postulates that AI might come to do this better than human writers. AI might know us better than we know ourselves.

What then? Is our species ready for that day?

No human writer after that time will stand a chance of keeping up with AI writers in quantity or quality. People inclined to take up writing will choose other pursuits and the number of human authors will dwindle. A small niche industry will linger on, since a few purist readers will refuse to read AI-written fiction. That small slice of the market will support a handful of human authors for a while.

Setting aside that tiny minority, think of the millions of readers devouring the prose churned out by clever machines. Assuming they pay for the books, who pockets that money? The AI developers?

What if fiction-writing AI software evolves on its own? That is, the software imagines—and programs—improvements in itself? Who gets the money when AI moves beyond the need for human programmers?

Moreover, what will motivate AI to write? We know why human authors write stories—they feel an urge to say something, in words, about the human condition in story form, and to earn money from doing so.

Why would AI write? What’s in it for them? Will AI feel some similar urge to reach humans emotionally, through language?

I don’t know the answers, and it’s disturbing to think about. Imagine that day when the last human author dies. Still, the advent of superior AI writers may usher in a wonderful era for human readers, able to read fiction surpassing all that’s been written before.

Perhaps, after even the memory of human writers fades, one person driven by an urge no other human feels, will strive to write as well as AIs. That scribbler will learn from the machines, and will put words together as the person’s ancestors once did. Perhaps this lone writer will offer a novel to the world, a novel in the true sense of that word—new. Perhaps readers will be amazed that a human can write as well as a machine.

Maybe that lone author’s efforts will inspire others, leading to a rebirth of human writing not seen since our Stone Age.

There’s a story idea for you, free of charge, from the (human) mind of—

Poseidon’s Scribe

January 9, 2022Permalink

A Novel Plan

I heard you’d like to write a novel. That’s the word on the street, anyway. As they say, writing a novel is a one-day event. (As in, ‘one day, I’ll write a novel.’)

No, you’re more serious than that. You’re going to do it. For such a big undertaking, maybe you should have a plan. Lucky you, the internet can provide one. Wait, more than one. Way more. Uh-oh.

There’s the 3-Step plan by Stephanie Gangi, the 7 Steps for planning a novel by the Reedsyblog staff, the 10-Step Plan by The Writers Bureau staff, the 12-Step Guide by Jerry Jenkins, the 15-Step Plan by the Reedsyblog staff, the 20-Step Guide by Joe Bunting, and the idea of forming no plan at all by Maria Mutch.

That narrows it down. We know there are between zero and twenty steps for writing a novel.

To me, all those plans look good, with many common elements among them, just some differences in emphasis and terminology.

Face it, some people need plans, step-by-step methods that have worked for accomplished authors. Other people hate plans, since they seem too rigid and stifling. Still others don’t mind plans so much, but prefer that the plan emerge as the project itself matures.

Whatever works for you. Emphasis on works. If your organized, detailed plan sits there and intimidates you into inactivity, that’s not working. If your lack of a plan leaves you unsure where to start, that’s not working. If your chosen method results in less than your best creation, well, you can do better.

For my novel in progress, I’m going with the Snowflake Method developed by Randy Ingermanson. It’s got 10 steps or so, and is similar to the 10-Step plan by The Writers Bureau mentioned above.

It’s not so much about actual snowflakes, but more about how you’d create a fractal snowflake. You’d start with a basic shape—a triangle or square—and add more detail as you go. That makes sense to me, and I’ve used an abbreviated form of the technique for years in creating my short stories.

They’ve given us a brand-new year to work with. It’s as good a time as any to start. Choose your plan, or no plan at all, and write that novel you’ve been dreaming about. I’ll read yours if you’ll read the next one written by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

January 2, 2022Permalink