Saturday, January 30, 2021
Post #243 February 1 2021
“Story in a Bottle: Frame Stories and Embedded Narratives”
Recently I finished my newest novel The Eureka Gambit. Look for it at the end of January 2021. In this story, I have used a technique that I have used before on similar alternate-history stories…a frame story, or as it is sometimes called, an embedded narrative. Essentially, this is an inner story inside an outer story.
What is a frame story? Wikipedia says this: A frame story (also known as a frame tale, frame narrative, sandwich narrative or intercalation) is a literary technique that serves as a companion piece to a story within a story, where an introductory or main narrative sets the stage either for a more emphasized second narrative or for a set of shorter stories.
I call this a kind of ‘mirror effect’ in storytelling.
In my case, I have inserted a prologue before my main story and an epilogue after the main story. The prologue and epilogue occur after the main (or inner) story. This is not a commonly used technique but it has some advantages.
Frame story techniques can be used effectively, when done right, to radically advance the time or change location of the inner story. The Eureka Gambit brackets an inner story inside an outer story that is itself set some 40 years later. This allows the writer to show some perspective and commentary by characters on what happened in the inner story. Sometimes an ironic twist can be added.
Think of a frame story as a bookend supporting a shelf of books. The outer story can be used to support or enhance or amplify the inner story.
There are some caveats however. For one, the characters in the outer story should relate somehow to what happens in the inner story, or to themselves acting in the inner story. The outer story can comment or reflect on the inner story, but it must be consistent and believable and not at variance with your plot logic. It shouldn’t be like “The Wizard of Oz,” and wind up being only a bad dream. That’s not playing fair with your readers.
Ideally, the inner story shouldn’t even ‘notice’ the outer story frame or refer to it…otherwise the mirror effect is broken and your story is in danger of becoming a parody, like TV Batman.
In my case, the outer story is kind of like ‘looking in’ on earlier, younger versions of one of the main characters. This can have the effect of adding some texture and nuance to your overall narrative.
You should not attempt a frame story or a nested narrative like this unless you’re careful about interactions between the inner and outer story. See above.
Use the ‘story in a bottle’ technique when you want to add another layer of meaning or commentary on what happens in your main (inner) story. Done well, it can be an enjoyable, even surprising twist to what is being experienced.
The next post to The Word Shed comes on February 8, 2021.
See you then.
Phil B.
Friday, January 22, 2021
Post #241 January 25 2021
“Editing and Flossing: We Do It Because We Should”
Every day, I floss my teeth, like all real Americans. Twice a day. I don’t particularly like it but I do it. The dentist says I should. That’s how think about editing too.
Wikipedia says this about editing: Editing is the process of selecting and preparing written, visual, audible and film media used to convey information. The editing process can involve correction, condensation, organization, and many other modifications performed with an intention of producing a correct, consistent, accurate and complete work.
When I finished Episode 8 of my Quantum Troopers serial, it was 68 pages long. Right after finishing the first draft, I do a thorough read-through. Does it flow? Does the story make sense? Is it believable and consistent? I take this read-through as a chance to correct awkward grammar, fix typos and misspellings (later I ran spellcheck) and generally find out if I have a decent story, with all the proper elements of a story…plot, characters, a problem for the characters, some complications, some kind of resolution in the end, etc.
Let’s take what Wikipedia says and expand on correction, condensation and organization as major points in the editing process.
Correction
Everybody makes mistakes. I know that’s hard to believe but it’s true. Editing gives you the chance to find them and fix them before your readers do. Nothing destroys the power of a story, the verisimilitude of a story, faster than an obvious factual error. Typos and awkward grammar can be fixed easily enough. But when you say Mars is a billion miles from Earth and it’s really only a hundred million miles away, plenty of readers will pounce on that and toss your book, assuming you haven’t taken the time to be a pro and find and fix obvious glitches. It does not reflect well on your craftsmanship when your story reeks of mistakes. We don’t build houses that way and we shouldn’t build stories that way either.
Condensation
To condense a story means a lot of things, mostly taking things out. One of the practices that made Quantum Troopers possible as a serialized story of 20,000-word episodes, uploaded to Smashwords every 3 weeks, was the fact that I freely copied and pasted from other stories. After the chop job, though, I have to smooth things out, condense down the paste job so it will fit my story size and smooth things out so the story flows, the plot makes sense, the story is adequately carried forward, the characters are consistent and believable, in other words, condensation and correction work together, like ham and eggs. It’s a rare story that can’t stand some enlightened pruning. For the last thirty years, I have spent much of my life as a professional technical writer. This turns out to be good discipline for story-telling. Tech writing is done mainly to instruct. Story writing is done to tell a story. But these two things are related. Moreover, in tech writing, as in any good writing, use only the words needed and no more. Be spare. You don’t have to be Ernest Hemingway. But try to tell the story with the minimum number of effective words. I interpret condensation as a form of literary distillation, paring down my words to the most essential ones, pruning away all but the essence. That’s what makes for effective writing, in any genre.
Organization
The editing process also involves organization. In any story, things should happen and flow logically, for a reason. Dick did this and then Jane did that. For me, organization starts with a strong outline. Outlines are the heart of my writing. If I don’t have a good outline, I can’t tell a story. But other authors are different. Good editing involves understanding what makes a story tick. Characters are motivated by certain things. A problem hits them and their motivations drive them to react and deal with it a certain way, hopefully consistent with their nature. The hard part is making this look natural and keeping the character’s responses both believable and consistent. The really good storytellers have a way of using plot complications to cause a character to grow in their response, thereby revealing something we can all learn from. Hey, maybe if that happened to me, I could do what he did. It makes sense, it’s satisfying at some fundamental level. Stories that do this are the memorable ones and organization (tightening the story up) is one key part of that.
Obviously, there’s a lot more to editing than this but I like to keep my posts short and to the point…as we’ve just been discussing. Corrected, condensed, organized…any writing will benefit from these. Behind every successful writer is an effective editor and in this day of indie, self-publishing and e-books, those two are often the same person.
Next week’s post will come on February 1, 2021.
See you then.
Phil B.
Friday, January 15, 2021
Post #241 January 18 2021
“Eight Tips for Writing Action Scenes”
I’m nearing the end of the first draft of my alternate history novel The Eureka Gambit. This novel is filled with action scenes. Writing action scenes, like any writing, is an art and it can be learned. The following tips are ones found from www.nownovel.com and which I have modified to better meet what I consider to be particularly important.
1. Use short sentences. This has the effect of speeding up the reader’s following of the story. It increases tension, just like short scenes and quick cuts in a movie. And use simple sentences to keep the reader focused on what matters.
2. Mix in dialogue with your action. It’s tempting to have nothing but slam-bang paragraphs, where Tom pulverizes his adversary with punch after punch, leading to a bloody mouth and teeth flying everywhere. But consider adding some choice words from Tom, like “Now, you’re going to get it,” or having Tom respond to his adversary’s taunts like “Is that the best you can do, you panty-waist slimebucket?” A little dialogue thrown in adds to the realism and makes Tom and his adversary seem lifelike.
3. Keep the introspection to a minimum. Don’t have Tom, in the middle of swinging a punch, reflect on why, when he was eight years old, little Tommy Jacobs stole his tricycle. Who cares what Tommy Jacobs did? I want to know: did Tom land the punch and did it knock the bejeezus out of his adversary (lets called the adversary Bluto).
4. Keep the action scene short. Nothing fatigues a reader faster than page after page of non-stop action, especially when there doesn’t seem to a story-related purpose to it. Give the reader a break. Intersperse action with some other narrative, like how nice the weather was when Tom plastered Bluto against the wall.
5. Use active voice. “Tom smashed Bluto’s face,” rather than “Bluto’s face was smashed by Tom.” This gives your writing more power and immediacy. Remember, you’re not writing for Downton Abbey (unless you are).
6. Keep details of setting and other descriptions relevant. Don’t stop in the middle of the action to have Tom ruminate on the historical significance of the tree he just smashed Bluto’s face with. Say “Tom smashed his face,” and move on.
7. Keep the character’s goals and needs in mind. This one bears some detail. Tom is fighting Bluto for a reason and it had better be a reason related to the larger conflict of the story. Otherwise, it’s just Tom taking out his frustrations on Bluto for no apparent reason. Ideally, the conflict between Tom and Bluto has grown and become so inflamed that conflict between them seems inevitable, until it finally bursts forth. This helps with creating and sustaining tension as well. You can even vary this a bit, by having Tom take more than a little abuse from Bluto before finally lashing out and deciding to end this standoff once and for all. Tom wants or needs something and Bluto’s standing in the way. This is the essence of story conflict.
8. Describe action using gestures, movements, noises, and other elements pertinent to the action. Like any writing, use words as needed and don’t add superfluous words that don’t contribute to the action. More importantly, engage all the senses: taste, smell, sound, as well as the physical experience of burying a fist in Bluto’s face. This adds to the realism and gives your action scene more power and more punch (sorry), especially if you’ve sketched Tom sympathetically so that the reader really feels his anger.
Writing action scenes can be learned and practiced. Done poorly, action scenes add nothing to a story and like some James Bond movies, become gratuitous and even wearying. But done well, they contribute to the reader’s understanding of your protagonist and his sympathy for the protagonist’s cause. The reader will feel “Hey, I would have done the same thing as Tom. That could have been me.”
Once your readers start doing that, they’re hooked.
The next post to The Word Shed comes on January 25, 2021.
See you then.
Phil B.
Friday, January 8, 2021
Post #240 January 11 2021
‘Where the Hell Are We? How Details of Setting and Sense of Place Can Help (or Hurt) a Story
Remember when Dorothy, in the Wizard of Oz, mutters to Toto: “Toto, somehow I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore?” Dorothy was actually identifying one of the most important attributes of a good story…a strong sense of place.
Writer’s Digest lists 12 elements of setting for writers to consider. To wit:
1. Locale. This relates to broad categories such as a country, state, region, city, and town, as well as to more specific locales, such as a neighborhood, street, house or school. Other locales can include shorelines, islands, farms, rural areas, etc.
2. Time of year. The time of year is richly evocative and influential in fiction. Time of year includes the seasons, but also encompasses holidays, such as Hanukkah, Christmas, New Year’s Eve, and Halloween. Significant dates can also be used, such as the anniversary of a death of a character or real person, or the anniversary of a battle, such as the attack on Pearl Harbor.
3. Time of day. Scenes need to play out during various times or periods during a day or night, such as dawn or dusk. Readers have clear associations with different periods of the day, making an easy way to create a visual orientation in a scene.
4. Elapsed time. The minutes, hours, days, weeks, and months a story encompasses must be somehow accounted for or the reader will feel confused and the story will suffer from a lack of authenticity. While scenes unfold moment by moment, there is also time to account for between scenes, when a flashback is inserted, and when a character travels a long distance.
5. Mood and atmosphere. Characters and events are influenced by weather, temperature, lighting, and other tangible factors, which in turn influence the emotional timbre, mood, and atmosphere of a scene.
6. Climate. Climate is linked to the geography and topography of a place, and, as in our real world, can influence events and people. Ocean currents, prevailing winds and air masses, latitude, altitude, mountains, land masses, and large bodies of water all influence climate. It’s especially important when you write about a real setting to understand climatic influences. Harsh climates can make for grim lives, while tropical climates can create more carefree lifestyles.
7. Geography. This refers to specific aspects of water, landforms, ecosystems, and topography in your setting. Geography also includes climate, soil, plants, trees, rocks and minerals, and soils. Geography can create obvious influences in a story like a mountain a character must climb, a swift-running river he must cross, or a boreal forest he must traverse to reach safety. No matter where a story is set, whether it’s a mountain village in the Swiss Alps or an opulent resort on the Florida coast, the natural world with all its geographic variations and influences must permeate the story.
8. Man-made geography. There are few corners of the planet that have not been influenced by the hand of humankind. It is in our man-made influences that our creativity and the destructiveness of civilization can be seen. Readers want visual evidence in a story world, and man-made geography is easily included to provide it. With this in mind, make certain that your stories contain proof of the many footprints that people have left in its setting. Use the influences of humankind on geography to lend authenticity to stories set in a real or famous locale. These landmarks include dams, bridges, ports, towns and cities, monuments, burial grounds, cemeteries, and famous buildings. Consider too the influences of mankind using the land, and the effects of mines, deforestation, agriculture, irrigation, vineyards, cattle grazing, and coffee plantations.
9. Eras of historical importance. Important events, wars, or historical periods linked to the plot and theme might include the Civil war, World War II, medieval times, the Bubonic Plague, the gold rush in the 1800s, or the era of slavery in the South.
10. Social/political/cultural environment. Cultural, political, and social influences can range widely and affect characters in many ways. The social era of a story often influences characters’ values, social and family roles, and sensibilities.
11. Population. Some places are densely populated, such as Hong Kong, while others are lonely places with only a few hardy souls. Your stories need a specific, yet varied population that accurately reflects the place.
12. Ancestral influences. In many regions of the United States, the ancestral influences of European countries such as Germany, Ireland, Italy, and Poland are prominent. The cities and bayous of Louisiana are populated with distinctive groups influenced by their Native American, French-Canadian, and African American forebears. Ancestral influences can be depicted in cuisine, dialogue, values, attitudes, and general outlook.
Anybody writing science fiction has to spend some time thinking about details of setting, since much sf is set in times and places (and planets) other than this one. For example, my Farpool series is initially set largely on a marine (oceanic) world called Seome. Later, the stories are set on 22nd century Earth. I had to draw maps, invent a language, a whole new history and culture to tell these stories.
And with my newest title coming out later this year, I even have hybrid descendants of the marine creatures of Seome plotting a way to get rid of the land dwellers and become the dominant intelligence on Earth.
There are several ways of getting details of setting into your story.
You can work the details into the story. In my novel, The Farpool, I have both human visitors Chase and Angie do a lot of traveling around Seome, which gives me the opportunity to describe the world and its many features, as seen through the eyes of human teenagers.
You can also simply append a section to the end of the story, in effect an appendix. I also did this in The Farpool, calling it Angie’s Echopod Journal…sort of vocal diary recorded by one of the humans. This gives me the chance to direct the reader’s attention to matters that the human protagonists find important, or unique.
I’ve used both techniques in this novel.
The challenge of my second story in this series, The Farpool: Marauders of Seome, was that the setting changed, from Seome to Earth and from some time in the future to multiple timestreams on Earth, including World War II and the 22nd century. This was definitely a story-telling challenge.
Using setting properly (in such a way that the nuts and bolts don’t show) can enhance any story, from atmospherics to provoking the proverbial sense of wonder, something that science fiction writers do all the time. The key is to keep the setting descriptions embedded in the context of the story and not to dump an encyclopedia of facts and maps on the reader.
Some writers spend so much time on their setting and world-building that they feel it essential to drop all this into the story. Sometimes, the setting is the story, like Arthur C. Clarke’s novel Rendezvous with Rama. But most of the time, a good, believable setting is just one part of the greater story, like plot and character and it should be woven together into a seamless whole.
Spend time on your setting details but don’t do it at the expense of telling a good story.
The next post to The Word Shed comes on January 18, 2021. By the way, I just totaled up all the downloads for all my titles for calendar year 2020. The total was 4974 for the year.
See you next time.
Phil B.
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