Plotting Without Explosions

by Jemi Fraser

Have you heard any explosions lately? No? You must not live in Northern Ontario. My brain has been exploding randomly and quite loudly recently.

Why?

I'm attempting to plot out a rewrite of a story.

KaBoom!

Problems:

• I'm NOT a plotter
• I need more tension between characters
• the external tension needs some polishing to make it more realistic
• the characters are too sweet

 Solution:

• I came across a post by Rula Sinara over at Kelly Steel's blog the other day talking about the synopsis
• Hmmm. I could write a synopsis BEFORE I start the rewrite
• this worked out pretty well, and helped me add in some tension between the characters, BUT it also pointed out new...

Problems:

• saggy middle
• most of the conflict comes to me as I'm writing. How am I supposed to know the middle before I get there???

Solution:

• google 'visual plot outlines'
• find this post by Chuck Wendig
• celebrate a little because writing the synopsis first is there (proving I'm not completely losing it!)
• find new ideas (writing backwards sounds BRILLIANT!!! I always know my ending before I begin so this might work)
• feel better when I see story bibles (I've done those - maybe I can do this plotting thing after all!)

Problem:

• not sure if any of this will work

Solution:

• give them a whirl! I won't lose anything by trying (plus I LOVE trying out new things)
• if I can't deal with the explosions any more, maybe I'll just Pants out a new version and hope all this thinking helps me make that version stronger!

So how does any of this help you out?

• some new ideas on plotting
• a reminder to keep open to new ideas. You never know when something will send you scurrying in a new direction. For me, the best learning experiences have been when I learned something I'd never even considered before
• another reminder that none of us work the same way -- and that's okay. Writing is a creative exercise and we should approach it that way. There is no one tried and true method that works for everyone. Don't be afraid to be unique! And, conversely, don't be afraid to borrow from others.

How about you? Are you a plotter? What has sent you in a new direction lately? Any other non-linear plotting techniques that might help me out?

Jemi Fraser is an aspiring author of contemporary romance. In between cranial explosions, she blogs  and tweets while searching for those HEAs.

Plot Like Christopher Columbus

by Stephen L. Duncan

In 1453, the Ottomans finally conquered Constantinople (not Istanbul) and so fell the safe land trade route that was the Silk Road from Europe to China and Southeast Asia.

Thus arose a need to reestablish the stream of commerce by nautical means.

Enter Christopher Columbus. With a comprehensive knowledge of trade winds and a negligent understanding of the size of the Earth, he blundered into the Bahamas on October 12^th, 1492 and changed the world.

I like to think that, as writers, we all sometimes set out with expectations of where our words will take us and what we expect to find at the end of our journey, only to arrive at a completely different – and often better – destination. The Columbus connection is a natural and obvious notion, first because it's Columbus Day and I'm trying to be timely here, and second because writing a story is at its core simply about discovery. After all, are authors not also explorers?

Scenes, and even sometimes characters, often arrive because of a need in our story structure, much like the need of a route to the Indies set the Santa Maria, the Pinta, and the Santa Clara on their journey west. And surely like Columbus must have also prepared, we may plot and outline meticulously, detail every character and setting, and order scene after scene, trying to keep the story within our tightest limits of control. But how often does it seem that, while on our journey, the winds fill our sails and take us into unfamiliar waters and lead us to land not found on any of our maps?

Don’t be afraid of making these mistakes. I say let go and embrace the unpredictable whenever you feel the story steering away from you. Flesh them out and see where they take you. You might be surprised by what you discover.

Who knows? You might find gold. Happy Columbus Day!

Stephen L. Duncan writes young adult fiction, including his debut, the first book in The Revelation Saga, due in 2014 from Medallion Press. You can find him blogging on INKROCK.com and on Twitter.

Plot Bunny Proliferation: Working With Our Imaginations

by Cat Woods

Ask nearly any writer and you'll hear complaints about the distracting qualities of plot bunnies.  Current WIPs often get left by the wayside as brand new plot bunnies entice writers away from one project after another, leaving a wake of half-realized manuscripts.  Plot bunnies can be dangerous to the unsuspecting.  Just like their counterparts are in my garden.

My back yard is a bunny haven.  While we have two dogs, neither of them are interested in chasing bunnies away from my flowers.  We also have a fence that should keep the bunnies out.  Instead, it seems to keep them in.  I think they like the safety and the ready to eat treats.  We've tried... eliminating them in the kindest way possible to no avail.  So, after years of fighting them, I've gotten to the point of working with them.

I've allowed them unlimited winter access to my landscaping smorgasboard as long as they turn tail in the spring.  It seems to work for both of us.  They prune my lilac tree, and every spring it fills out beautifully.  They sheer off my perennials so I have less winter yuck to clean up.  And the babies are just too dang cute as they romp around in the melting snow.

Plot bunnies are no different than real bunnies.  They feed off the delicate blooms of our imaginations, yet can be nearly impossible to capture. They also multiply at the same rate—which is to say writers typically have far more of them at any given point than they know what to do with—and the babies are especially cute and compelling.

If left unchecked, both plot bunnies and their real life companions can destroy the best-laid plans.

While I haven't quite mastered corraling all my plot bunnies, I've found that treating them the same as my backyard bunnies helps keep my writing on track.

I allow them unlimited access during certain seasons. 

Seriously, in between projects I allow myself the freedom to explore any idea that pops into my head.  I have dozens of started projects.  These projects run about 1,200 words and capture the essence of my ideas.  I don't consider these failures or unfinished projects.  I consider them practice.  They also become a part of my writing file that I can pick through at other times.  By giving them page space, the plot bunnies settle down and allow me to funnel my attention on my WIPs.

I feed them.

Strange, but true.  I figure if I ever trap and kill off the rabbits in my mind, I'll have nothing left to work with, so I encourage them to multiply as needed.  I always carry a notebook with me.  It's filled with hundreds of mini-outlines, names, places, spaces and character sketches.  Whenever a new thought strikes, I jot it down and play with it.

What I find most often is that the plot bunny isn't fully formed—and likely never will be.  Rather, it is just a shiny, new idea that looks as cute and cuddly as the baby Easter Bunny.  It's exciting for a moment, but once it's placed in the notebook among the other bunnies, it loses some of its appeal.  It's underdeveloped and malnourished.  At least for the time being.

Rarely, the idea solidifies.  It gels, either on its own merit or within the context of other ideas.  Eventually, a few bunnies band together and prune back the winter detritus, leaving room for spring's new blooms.  Whenever I see or hear something I think my plot bunnies would like to eat, I add it to the notbeook.  As time goes on, these ideas become new WIPs. 

And the best part about feeding ideas this way: it takes virtually no time.  Once I pen my plot bunny in ink, I'm freed to think about other things.  Namely my current writing project.

So, the idea behind plot bunnies is to corral them, not eliminate them.  If we embrace our fertile imaginations and provide some boundaries for dealing with new ideas, we will be less tempted to leave our current WIPs whenever a new bunny hops by.

How do you wrangle your plot bunnies into submission?  Do you allow new ideas to take over current projects?  If so, how does that work out?

Curious minds want to know.

This weekend, Cat Woods started spring cleaning her garden.  Thanks to the backyard bunnies, she has more time to spend with her plot bunnies.  You can find her wrangling both rabbits on her blog: Words from the Woods.

Anchor Scenes for Story Structure

by Lucy Marsden

In my heart of hearts, I am a plotter. The problem is that, in my brain of brains, I have a sadly inconsistent grasp of story structure.

Pure pantsing, in which I attempt to write while having no idea what my characters are moving towards, leaves me floundering and paralyzed; trying to articulate every twist and turn of the story before I start to write, however, makes me break into a sweat as I contemplate the (inevitable) gaping holes in my imagination. I need an approach to story that protects me from the feeling of being in free-fall, while helping me to tolerate (and even embrace) all the stuff I don’t yet know about What Happens Next and Why.

Happily, the folks at Storywonk (AKA author Lani Diane Rich and Alastair Stephens), and author Jenny Crusie, have done a fabulous job of presenting a description of the key scenes that create the foundation of story structure. Lani and Alastair actually did a podcast on this recently, called Improvising Seven Anchor Scenes*, and Jenny has presented her take on this approach in her blog post on Argh Ink, The Basics of Fiction.

Briefly (and with none of their genius), here are the foundational scenes:

1. The Initiating Event / The Inciting Incident / Where The Trouble Begins

This is exactly what it sounds like, the event that brings the protagonist into the central story conflict.

It is amazing how long it can take me to actually nail this down. Sometimes I know very clearly what the event is, it just takes me an exasperating amount of time to actually write my way there. God only knows what I’m doing with myself in the meantime.

2. The First Turning Point / The Trouble Gets Worse

I feel like this is also Crossing The Threshold (if you’re familiar with the mythic structure Vogler talks about in The Writer’s Journey). It’s the point where the protagonist has to commit to dealing with whatever the trouble is, because the stakes have just increased, and Business As Usual isn’t going to cut it.

3. The Midpoint / The Point of No Return / The Reversal of Fortune

This is a big moment for plot AND character. It’s the point at which major discoveries are made that change the game that the characters are playing, and it’s the point at which the characters have changed so much that they can’t go back to the way they were before.

This is the point in my current WIP where the hero discovers that his parents’ accidental deaths were actually murders. I knew that from the very beginning, of course, but it took me a while to understand why I should have my hero arrive at that conclusion at this particular point in the story.

4. The Crisis / The Dark Moment/ All Is Lost

At this point, the protagonists are defeated; they don’t yet possess the knowledge / abilities / head space necessary to defeat the Antagonist, and it seems clear that a Happily Ever After with the love of their life is a complete impossibility.

Unbelievably, this bit is really vague for me right now; I think it’s because I haven’t spent a lot of time with my Antagonist, yet, and so I don’t know exactly how he’s going to be pushing back against my hero’s attempts to uncover the murder of his parents. I have a sense of how my hero’s going to back away from my heroine as a result of the threat posed by the Antagonist, but that’s about it.

5. The Climax / The Final Push

Defeated though the protagonist is at the Crisis, they can’t give up. They are forced to finally integrate the abilities/ self-knowledge / growth they’ve been developing throughout the story, and because they do this, they have what they need to finally defeat the Antagonist.

Thankfully, this point isn’t a total fog for me; I know what the heroine’s relationship with the hero is going to provide for him that will turn out to be pivotal in the final showdown, and I know what the heroine’s arc will be contributing to this scene, so I’m OK with discovering the rest.

6. The Resolution / The Happily Ever After / The New World

The protagonist’s world has changed for the better, and so have they. They’ve grown, and are more authentically themselves than they were at the beginning of the story.

Again, I’ve got at least a general sense of what this will look like, and am happy to fill in the details when I get there, especially since I’ll get hints of this as I continue to move through the book.

(* I can only think of 6 scenes to Lani’s 7; if anyone wants to jump into the Comments section and remind me which bit I’m forgetting, please be my guest! And definitely take a minute to check out Storywonk. Lani and Alastair are two of the smartest, most passionate, most articulate, and most enjoyable writing geeks I have ever encountered, and their podcasts alone are phenomenal.)

What kind of story structure (if any) works best for you? What’s your preferred ratio of Plotting to Discovery?

Lucy Marsden is a romance writer living in New England. When she’s not backstage at a magic show or crashing a physics picnic, she can be found knee-deep in the occult collection of some old library, or arguing hotly about Story.

Crossing the Bridge: Song Structure and Plot

by J. Lea Lopez

I was marveling the other day about how some of my favorite singer-songwriters can really tell a whole story in a four-minute song. I love a good ballad, especially. The music, lyrics, the singer's voice, everything works together to take you on a roller coaster ride of emotion. I tend to write character-driven stories, and it's that same gut-wrenching ride that I strive to impart to my reader. This got me thinking. What can fiction writers learn from songwriters? The answer, I believe, lies in structure.

Thinking back to your elementary and middle school English classes, you may remember charting the plot of a book using something like this:

Look familiar? Was I the only one who felt constricted by this particular diagram? Exposition and rising action were no problem. For the most part, falling action was a no-brainer, and denouement was easy peasy. But I often faltered around the climax. (Please, no psychoanalysis of that statement is necessary.) In many books, the climax felt more like a series of events—a plateau, if you will. And that straight line of rising action is really more of a procession of peaks and valleys. When you break it down, it looks a bit like a song. (For these purposes, "song" refers mainly to current popular music. Song structure varies greatly, not only within but across genres as well.)

The exposition is your basic intro, and the rising action starts with the first verse, followed by the chorus. The verse tells the story, and the chorus gives you the overall theme of the song. (Don't ask me why, but I'd never realized this basic premise of storytelling vs. theme until I read it in those concrete terms, and then I thought of just about every song I'd ever heard and—whaddya know? It's true!) Many songs also have a bridge, which I have come to realize is my favorite part.

Let's take a listen to one of my recent favorites, Take it All, by Adele.

The verse does indeed tell you the story, and the chorus gives you the theme. When the chorus comes in for the first time, there's a burst of new emotion, like a mini-climax, before we come back down a notch for another verse. The bridge starts around 2:08—this is where you hear things change, and instead of coming back down to the emotional/dynamic level of the verse again, we start another build of emotion. It's not a one-note type of climax, it's a gradual build toward and satisfying release from the point of highest emotional impact. The repetition of the chorus closes the song and drives home the general theme again. Was it as good for you as it was for me? A great song has you yearning for that bridge, for those few bars where it all comes together and makes the hair on your arms stand up.

So let's go one more time. Gravity, by Sara Bareilles, is another song that gives you the same ebb and flow of tension in the alternation of verse and chorus, then knocks your socks off with a great bridge (which starts at 2:25). I dare you to try not to get swept up in the tension. I've listened to this song hundreds of times, and I still take a deep breath at the peak of the bridge, when she sings the word "down," and hold it until she releases. Exquisite.

So what can we take away from this (besides learning of my penchant for soulful female singer-songwriters)?

Instead of a three-act structure, or the linear rise and fall in those old plot charts that seem to turn on a dime at the apex, think of your story as a song, or a series of songs. Tell your story in the verses, intertwined with conflicts that help us understand the overarching themes of your novel (the chorus). Build toward that spine-tingling climax. I want you to take me over the bridge. Give me a few moments to savor the dizzying heights before you wrap me up in another cozy chorus and send me on my way.

You can use this structure on both a micro and macro level to weave a story rich with tension and emotion that reaches nearly addictive highs. If you can do that, you'll have me coming back for more of your product again, and again, and again...

What other aspects of songwriting can you apply to fiction? What songs intoxicate YOU with their emotion and powerful storytelling?

Mythos and the Muse

by Calista Taylor

I've heard it said that there are no new stories, only new ways to tell them, and I think this is very true. Although the possibilities seem endless, I'm afraid writers often jump on the bandwagon when a particular story becomes popular. Wizards, vampires, werewolves, zombies anyone? Unfortunately, trying to follow a trend can be a difficult thing to do, because unless your timing is perfect or you have a truly amazing twist, it becomes difficult to make your story stand out amongst all the others that are similar.

So instead of traveling down a road thronged with people, why not pick a path less traveled? I would suggest embracing the old and making it new again.

I've often found myself paging through an encyclopedia of mythology as my imagination races through the possibilities. There are so many mythological creatures to pick from, and so many amazing stories waiting to be retold in a new and fresh way that's relevant to our time.

Here are a few sites on mythology and mythological creatures to help guide your muse down a path less traveled.

• Wikipedia's list of Mythological Creatures—This is an amazing list and the best part is there's a brief description for each creature so you don't have to keep clicking.
• Wikipedia's list of Creatures by Type—The above list is divided up into type of creature.
• Wikipedia's list of Folklore
• Wikipedia's list of Mythologies—Impressive and thorough.
• Wikipedia's list of Deities
• Wikipedia's list of Mythological Objects
• Wikipedia's list of Women Warriors
• Theoi Greek Mythology—A fantastic site about the Greek gods and Greek mythology.
• God Checker—A great resource with many different cultures listed.
• Luminarium—A page for all things Irish.
• Encyclopedia Mythica—Another amazing site—very thorough with an extensive list of cultures.
• A World History of Art—So many great works of art have been inspired from mythology. This is a great site if you prefer something more visual for your research.

If there are any other links you find useful but that we haven't posted, please let us know by leaving a comment.

Do you often use mythology for inspiration? Where do your new story ideas come from?