Category Archives: writing

Choice versus Ability: What RPGs Can Teach Us About Writing

The other day I listened to the episode of the podcast Scriptnotes  where the two hosts, Craig and John played the role-playing game Fiasco  with a fellow writer and it sparked some thoughts about story telling and how characters become compelling. John and Craig in addition to being successful screenwriters, show runner, novelists, and playwrights, are role-play gamers notably playing Dungeons and Dragons  the wellspring of all role-play gaming today so listening to them play Fiasco  a game that is entirely focused on storytelling with only extremely limited mechanics intrigued me, especially since I had thoroughly enjoyed the episode of the web series Tabletop  where I first learned of Fiasco.

In Dungeons and Dragons  characters have a well defined set of abilities, usually derived from a ‘class’ that defines the character profession, thief, wizard, warrior, and so one but in Fiasco  the only thing that defines a character is their relationships to the other characters of the game. There are not statistics for physical or mental abilities, no rule set for determining if a gunshot hits a target or misses, in short characters have no defined abilities whatsoever. A Fiasco character is defined by their choices and in fiction writing it is the same.

In fiction a character’s attempt at any action is not random determine by lucky or unlucky dice rolls but success is predetermined by the author compelled by the needs of the text. The character’s abilities are there to allow the possibility of success at any particular action but not to drive that action. What makes a character compelling is the choices that they make. If you can remove the character from the action and replace them with another person with a similar skill set and nothing changes then it is likely that your character is not very compelling. It is the choice that defines the character, it is in agonizing dilemmas where there are no good choices that forces a character to grow and confront their own true nature.  From quiet dramas such as The Remains of the Day  and Mr. Stevens choice to not speak up and tell Miss Kensington how he really feels to special effects spectaculars such as Captain America: Civil War  where Steve has to decide to confess to Tony Star the truth that he had kept secret the truth of Stark’s parents’ murder it is the choice that a character that makes them empathetic.

Abilities can be switched out, anyone can be an expert of some skill ort knowledge but only this particular person with this particular background and experience can be tortured with a specific choice and there you will find the compelling character.

Share

Sometimes You Should Look Back

The other night I was thinking about a failed novel I wrote several years earlier. The thought was perhaps I could go back re-read the manuscript and approach the idea fresh and see if I could write a new version absent the flaws that had been exposed at its beta read.

The first shocker was the dates on the files. Nine Years? Really? Where had the time gotten?

Okay it’s been awhile, onto reading the first scene of that novel. (It was late and bed was fast approaching. Anyway a part of my brain did recognize that this behavior was mostly avoidance because a shiny new project is always more alluring than the pick and spade work of any current Work In progress.)

Okay, that opening scene is far beyond my currently level of craft.

It wasn’t terrible, so there is that, but it was fatally flawed in its prose execution.

There’s danger when you look at a historical piece of your own art that the lack of competence will damage your confidence in your present works. After all at the time I wrote the novel and invited others to beta read it I thought I had performed decently and I think I am doing so my current projects. Am I as deluded now as I was then?

In some ways absolutely.

Artists are often the worse judges of their own material, simultaneously blind to some faults and hyper aware of others. This is why feedback is vital. Good, honest, and constructive feedback is the super serum that lifts our mediocre efforts into competent works.

However there is a flip side to the self-blindness and that is it can make it difficult to see the progress we have actually achieved.

The flaws in the prose in that novel from 2010 also are an indication of the progression I have reached. In that time I have, in gamer lingo, leveled up several times since writing that manuscript. The characters, the concepts, and the setting of the novel are all still quite compelling to me and if I choose to attempt it again the prose will be substantially better.

I am not depressed by the awfulness of that earlier work I am energized by how easily I can see it and the numerous ideas for how to do it better.

Share

The Delicate Balance of Character Death in Sequels

Over several nights this week, and I am still not finished I have been watching Crystal Lake Memories: The Complete History of Friday the 13th. The documentary covers the entire span of the iconic slasher/horror film franchise and has a running time that is close the seven hours. I am a movie buff and while I have seen a few of the Friday the 13th  installments I am by far not an engaged fan of the series but I adore learning about films and their production.

Adrienne King who played final girl Alice in the initial film spoke about how many fans reacted badly to her characters quick and unceremonious death in the following sequel and my thoughts instantly flashed to Alien 3  and how the characters of Hicks and Newt were also cruelly dispatched simply to make way for the next batch of Purina Alien Chow.

Sequels are already tricky things to manage. People loved the first story and want more, deviate too wildly from the established tone and elements of that instigating tale and people will feel cheated, that they did not get what was promised on the tine, but hew too closely to the original plot and structure and people will be bored as you simply repeat the original with mere cosmetic changes. What Friday the 13th Part 2  and Alien 3 exemplify is the dangers of ignores the audiences emotional investment in the previous episodes. A story, prose or cinematic, succeeds when the audience become emotionally invested in the fate of the characters. This is particularly true in films where the conclusion presents few surviving characters of which horror films excel. Alice in Friday the 13th  is the ‘final girl’ and her survival is the emotional heartbeat of the movie, giving the audience its catharsis and exhilaration with the story climax. People are excited by her survival after attaching their fears to her for the run of the film. Alice matters. But her off-hand death at the start of the next film is an unintentional swipe at the audience. It is calling them suckers for caring about Alice, or Hicks and Newt for that matter, because all of that drama and tension and terror were meaningless. Those cruel and thoughtless character deaths invalidate all of the emotional toil and payoff of the previous franchise installments.

Does this mean you can’t kill surviving characters in the following sequels? No, of course not. What it means is that a sequel needs to be very careful in which characters fall and the manner in which they fall. Off-handedly removing character simply to make room for new ones is disrespectful to the audiences and their deep emotional attachments. If a character that survived an earlier episode must appear and die in a sequel then that death must be important to the plot and development of the story and it must be driven by the character’s choices. It need not be a ‘heroic’ death, though that is a clear option but it must not be a death that could have been filled by a stand in. Remember that sequel have a carry over emotional effect, the audience are in a heightened state filled with the memories of beloved characters in dramatic tension do not disrespect them.

Share

Scriptnotes and Thoughts on my Career Path

I adore HBO’s limited series Chernobyl  and its associated podcast of the same name with the writer and show runner Craig Mazin explores the crafting of the show and where it deviates from the historical record. That podcast led me to Mazin’s other Podcast Scriptnotes  where he co-hosts where fellow screen scribe John August about screen writing and things interesting to screenwriters.

There had been a time in my life where I really wanted to be a screenwriter and director. Movies are a passion of mine and I adore all the aspect of cinema. This weekend I will spend 13 hours watching a marathon of SF themed horror film as part of a local cinema group’s annual celebration. My novel coming out in March 2020 Vulcan’s Forge  is not only a celebration of film noir  in prose but stuffed to its hairline with references to some of my favorite films. However, listening to Scriptnotes  I think I have learned that being a professional screenwriter may not have been for me.

Where there are lots of books about how to write screenplays and what the form of the material is like there are few recourses that can give you a real look at what the life of a screenwriter is really like, Scriptnotes  is one of those rare resources. In addition to excellent advise on character, conflict, and constructing scenes, John and Craig climb down into the muddy trenches of dealing with contracts, producers, the Guild, studios, and set realistic expectations for aspiring talent just what the business is going to expect of them. What dismayed me was the amount of work a professional screenwriter does that is being a ‘gun for hire.’ How often a person will work on projects that they did not start, did not conceive, and are expected to create and polish into gem stones as glittering as their own projects. Certainly spec scripts, that is a project that was written without a contract and without the writer being hired to writer it, get produced but more often these scripts are used to open doors and gain employment as those hired guns and the films those scripts were written for never come into existence.

That has to be heartbreaking.

As a novelist I write a manuscript with every expectation that it will be a novel. For my preferences the ideal outcome is a traditionally published novel where a publisher pays me an advance and I get the benefit of their entire production, advertising, and distribution enterprise but if need be in this digital age I can publish the book myself. I do not need to produce well-polished dreams that are likely to be discarded so I can chase work on material I did not create.

Perhaps one of my novels will eventually be sold and made into a film and then I may writer the screenplay. I think I have a real talent for that form, but as a career, I think that screenwriter would have been a poor fit.

Share

Spider-Man, Macbeth, & Responsibilities

It is interesting to think about how characters are or are not responsible for the ills of their fictional world.

Central to Spider-Man’s character is the guilt he feels over the death of his beloved Uncle Ben. After Peter Parker had gained his powers that allow him to become a super hero but before he accepted to corresponding responsibilities, he sought enrichment and glory by using those magical abilities in entertainment. And when he stood by refusing to become involved in a robbery allowing the culprit to escape, he set into motion a chain of events that resulted in the same culprit robbing, shooting, and murdering Peter’s Uncle’s Ben. In the second motion picture directed by Sam Rami Peter confesses to his aunt that he, Peter, is responsible for Ben murder and that is something that has always rankled me.

Yes, Peter should have done something. Yes, Peter’s inaction set up the conditions that allowed the criminal to escape and thus the conditions that eventually allowed the criminal to be in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong motivations that resulted in Ben murder.

However, Peter is not responsible for that murder. Peter did not pull that trigger; Peter did not make the decision to shoot. Only the gunman is responsible  for shooting. My feelings on the matter have always been settled ground to me.

Yet, things feel different when I contemplate my favorite play Macbeth.

It is Macbeth’s hand to wields the dagger, it is Macbeth’s choice to murder his King and Kin, it is Macbeth uses the throne of Scotland to ignite a reign of terror that sparks open rebellion and invasion and still I can’t shake the sensation that responsibility somehow lies with the unnamed witches.

Without the supernatural meddling by the witches, making pronouncement of the future that are accurate of ultimately misleading, would have Macbeth ever taken any action against his royal cousin? If the witches can know which grain will grow and which will not then must they also know that speaking that future to Macbeth that place him on the path that ultimately leads to his doom? Are they the inversion of Avengers: Endgame knowing that if they speak the future to Macbeth that unlike Strange certain that his prediction will destroy its possibilities their will ensure it? If that is the case how do you divide responsibility between the Witches and their future meddling and Macbeth free will to choice his destructive path?

Share

Actions Define Character

There is often a gulf between what a character says is their nature and the actions performed by that character. I am not speaking about plot-required deceptions, such as an agent who poses as a businessperson while traveling through hostile and dangerous territory but rather to gap between how a character perceives themselves and that the character’s actual nature.

In an introductory psychology course, I was exposed to the concept of the Johari Window. Take a square and divide it into four quadrants. One section is what that person knows about themselves that is also known by others, it is their public face and identity. Another sector is what the person knows but it is unknown to others, this is the person’s guarded identity. The third sector is what is unknown by the person but known to others, this is the person’s blind spots, aspects of their personality and identity that they are blind to. And the final sector is those aspects of the person that is unknown to both the person and to others, traits, identity, and personality facets that have yet to be discovered. The sectors are rarely even and their areas vary greatly from person to person. It can be a useful tool in character design to consider how the Johari Window applied to people you may create for any work of fiction.

The tension between what a character may believe about themselves and how thy actually act can be a great source of development and conflict. Consider a character that considers themselves to be a ‘progressive’ supportive of LGBQT rights and for drug legalization but if that character is also wealthy and their political energies are spent on the candidates and initiates to reduce their tax burden then the characters actions are in conflict with not only their expressed ideals but perhaps even their own sense of identity. Such a character may not even be a hypocrite as they may unable to even perceive the contradictions between their stated positions and their actual actions. Never under estimate a person’s ability to self-deceive particularly in order to protect a self-image that may be at odds with reality.

The old adage is that ‘actions speak louder than words,’ and we consider it a truism especially when we need to consider characters who believe that own words and yet defy them with action after action.

Share

Opening a Story

Sorry I have been away from my blog but last week I managed to injure my lower back and that pulled muscle made it fairly painful to sit at my work desk. I am recovered enough to return to my desk, both here at home and at my day job.

Last night I attended the twice monthly meeting of the Mysterious Galaxy Writers Group and some of the feedback and discussion has gotten my mind churning on the elements needed to successfully open a story.

Of course, you want something dramatic, something interesting capturing the reader’s interest and imagination. I have also long maintained that the opening scene must be one of conflict, presenting a character with an objective and something that stand between the character achieving that goal. There an often used example of starting off wrong by stating in combat that because we do not yet know who the characters are and what motivates them it is difficult to have emotional investment in battle right from the start. This correct more often than it is wrong, but skillful deployment of character beats can allow a combat focused opening as well.

What I have been thinking and pondering since last night is the importance of the nature of the conflict that you opens the story. It seems rather obvious but sometime the most important elements are only obvious when seen in retrospect. The exact conflict that opens the story informs the reader about the nature of the character and situation. It lays down a lot of foundation for the tone and style of the story that will follow. Why this character is facing this particular challenge and that choices that are forced upon them to resolve it informs the reader who the character is and the nature of their personality.

The challenge doesn’t have to be the central challenge of the story or novel, but it should be there is give us these vital insights.

Consider a character who needs to get to work but whose car is out of gas. Already we know that this character has financial troubles, has work troubles, and is teetering on the edge. A person secure in their finances can easily maintain their vehicle, and someone doing well at their job can afford a single tardy or missed day. So that little conflict has already shared a lot of information. If the character resolves this issue by stealing money from their roommate’s wallet that’s one sort of person if they wake up hours early to walk three miles to get to work on time that a different moral character and either choice gives the reader a taste of who this person is.

When opening a story you have a very special window for establishing tone and character, make the most of it.

 

Share

Knowing What You Write

There’s an adage in writing that goes “Write what you know,” but I think it should more properly be phrased as ‘Know what you write.’ It isn’t about sticking to things you already know but knowing and understanding your subject well enough to write honestly.

One of the short films at this year’s Horrible Imaginings Festival brought this home to me.

In the film Vicious a family of urbanites are in the lonely rural south when they become guests of an odd local family that invites them for dinner. The film starts off looking as though it is going to be a rather bog standard ‘folk horror’ about the strange and scary people found in the countryside but the filmmakers invert the paradigm and end of a rather different note.

What might have been a fun reversal of a trope felt flat and inauthentic because the filmmakers did not know what they wrote. When visiting a culture not your own it is important to get people who are deeply familiar with it to help you in avoiding simple mistakes.  Here are two of the most glaring examples from the film where inaccuracies damaged my enjoyment.

First off, in the south you do not have dinner outdoors shortly after dusk. Californians might think of this time as pleasant, the cooling air, the breeze heading towards the sea, but California is dry and the south is wet and filled with mosquitos. A table outside is setting a table for those biting insects.

Second, if a Southern family invites another for supper, particularly is this Southern family has a large lovely brick home, the meal they set out will not be a plate of beans and nothing more. Southern culture is a very food centric one and the offerings would have been numerous both as a matter of hospitality and of pride.

These may feel like small errors but they destroy the credibility of the film, yanking audience member who see them out of the tale and shattering the illusion. It is always vitally important to ‘Write What You Know.”

Share

Reading HBO’s Chernobyl

Unless you have been under a rock hiding from the insanity of today’s world, and honestly who could blame you, you have probably heard of HBO’s fantastic mini-series Chernobyl  chronicling the infamous Soviet nuclear disaster. Show runner and writer Craig Mazin, best know for films such as The Hangover 2,  delivered an amazing, frightening, and moving depiction of the terrifying and heroic events surrounding the 1986 event.

Mazin also co hosts with fellow screen scribe John August the podcast Scriptnotes  where the pair, along with occasional guests, discuss screenwriting from both a creative and a business practical viewpoint.  As part of their mission to help screenwriters Mazin has published all five scripts for Chernobyl  and I have spent the last two days lost in a wonderful reading experience.

I have read a number of scripts for both television and feature films and I have to say that Mazin has really opened my eyes to ways this particular art form can be expressed. His approach is a close subjective style with elements that I have not seen often in screenplays. The narrative elements of the script contain descriptions that are purely internal to the character. It’s a guide to the reader, the director, and the actor how a scene needs to be played. I have to say that these scripts are a good reading experience one that is as enjoyable as any well-crafted short story or novel. Not only has it made me appreciate the craft more, but also it has enhanced my respect for the series as a whole and ignited a desire to re-watch the entire run.

The scripts are available for free downloading at John August’s website.

 

Share

Every Book Is Different

As I embark on the start of writing another novel it has struck me as curious that each of the books I have written ahs taken a different path in the pre-writing work.

Now, there are, of course, a lot of similarities, after all I am the author of each of these works and while I evolve and change those changes are not so radical as to turn me from a plotter to a pantser. However there are significant changes to my approach with each and every book. The quest for ‘The Way’ to write a novel never truly finds a whole and unifying answer.

Outline vary a great deal from fairly simple and straight forward affairs of just a few pages to the monster outline that reached 87 double spaced pages which detailed nearly every single scene in the work. I like using act structure to plan and plot my narrative but that too changes from book to book, with some using a three-act format such as you might see in a typical movie to more recently a five-act structure inspired by the plays of William Shakespeare. Often my act structure is nothing more than the key events that define the changing of an act, but I have also crafted spreadsheet tracking each character through the acts showing their relations to not only the changing of the acts but to each other as they approach these key story beats.

Often I will amass a list of characters as I compose an outline, with new characters created and added to my list as I discover them in the process and even that changes. For my most recent work, which isn’t yet to the outlining stage, I ended up creating a visual map of the characters, color-coded for if they were primarily associated with a protagonists or an antagonist and with lines connecting the character that had significant relationships to each other. This exposed a hole in the narrative that required a character that connected to several of my major characters and straddled the divided between protagonists and antagonist.

This all makes a weird kind of sense to me. Each novel is unique, with its own set of characters, themes, and events, and that fact that each requires a unique approach should not be that surprising.

Share