|  | Articles 
        on Writing:Writing Good Stories
 The Novelization Process
 Approaching Revisions
 Rethinking and Revising Imagery
 Revising the Horror of Stage Directions
 Maintaining 
        and Violating POV
 Logic 
        vs. Illogic - Hanging the Lanterns
 How to End a Novel
 Sound and Sense - Shelley vs Dickens
 
 New 
        Leaves in the Wind - Essays on the Interet Experience
 |  | Writing 
        Good Stories What 
        constitutes a Good story? The debate rages. Is it a great plot, or interesting 
        material? Is it climbing inside the reader's head with well-crafted character 
        studies and globe stopping themes? As any published author can tell you, 
        if you have a good subject, a well defined theme, a detailed plot and 
        a battery of super-characters, you will probably write the great snooze 
        work of the century. Well, perhaps not, if you know what to do with most 
        of these elements, which in most cases is to trim, muddle, blur and curtail 
        them. As J. R. R. Tolkien said in his introduction to The Lord of the 
        Rings, "This story grew in the telling." That is how good stories 
        are born-in the telling.
 If you now are shaken because you have researched materials for five years 
        and have enough elemental surplus to populate seven novels, be of good 
        cheer. All you need to make it work is to tell a story. Remember, you 
        have material, characters, plots, images, and dare we say, themes. But, 
        in the long run, unless your readers are bored literature professors who 
        are looking for thematic prevalence, all you need to do is tell your story 
        and, most important, engage the reader.
 
 Engaging the reader is the most important key to commercial and literary 
        success. If you fail to engage your readers, you loose your readers. With 
        no readers, you have library shelf dust. Is this pandering? No. You need 
        to know who your potential readers are and, especially in genre fiction, 
        if it is a specific readership slice that requires particular treatment. 
        For example, if you are writing in the Slice of Life genre, you know your 
        reader needs some emotional impetus; while, a mystery/adventure needs 
        puzzles and solutions. However, no genre is so grounded in itself to exclude 
        a variety of story telling techniques to the exclusion of a more general 
        readership. It is true that if your subject material is Bloodletting in 
        Medieval Malta, that you may exclude a portion of potential readership. 
        However, story telling begins after the reader is seized between the covers, 
        not before. It begins on page one, and must engage, engage and continue 
        to engage until the end.
 
 There are five sound story-telling techniques discussed here, which can 
        be used to engage the reader in most genres. There are others to be sure. 
        These are shared with the buoyancy that writing is; that, hard and fast 
        rules make for grammar, not style. These five techniques are easy to remember, 
        especially when reviewing your work prior to an editor's touch. Remember 
        that your editor will shine you up more if you have applied as much polish 
        as you can before submission. These techniques are: twist, resonate, image, 
        seed and move.
 Twisting is something we generally loose when we gain clear sight of characters, 
        plots and themes. We may have planned a great plot twist, but we fail 
        to remember that twisting is an old story telling technique, a technique 
        key to every campfire since stories have been told. From the tall tales 
        of Homer to the great yarns of Mark Twain, twisting the story is the great 
        differentiation. Such twists, of course, need to be carefully considered. 
        In fact, twisting may be an exercise you engage before you write. You 
        do not need to bother the reader with all your twists, only the results-the 
        engaging results. Here is an example.
 
 You have a scene set on a lonely road. A main character drives up and 
        stops, obviously lost. He walks about his car looking at a map. Suddenly, 
        he sees a farmhouse nearby. Driving to it, he knocks on the door to ask 
        for directions. An old man emerges and gives him a glass of water and 
        advice. The main character thanks him and drives away.
 
 Thinking about the above scenario, it is part of a larger story, and in 
        fact, a necessary piece as it establishes the remoteness of the final 
        destination. However, it seems like filler, a technique to give a sense 
        of time and distance passing. It would occupy, when written, a paragraph 
        or two. Surely, the reader would not nod off here, their books crashing 
        down onto their heads in bed. Surely, they would! So, add a twist to your 
        original thinking. Make the place even more desolate and dusty. Make the 
        main character even more lost and desperate. He has no map. He sees, not 
        a farmhouse, but a campfire. There, before the fire is an old woman-a 
        Native American woman, who knows him by name and knows where he is going. 
        Startled, he retreats to his car, only to tumble into a ravine, his leg 
        injured. He gets to the road, where the old woman awaits. She drives him 
        to his destination.
 Now, with a twist in the original scenario, you have a better canvas to 
        keep the reader engaged. Before you write it, you might add a pet dog 
        or coyote. Perhaps, this woman speaks only Cherokee, an interesting challenge 
        for dialog; or perhaps, not. In any event, twisting needs to be carefully 
        considered. Your imagination should shine through, and twisting is the 
        product of your imagination. The only caution is to avoid twisting to 
        excess. You can tell when the twist becomes incredible. In fact, incredibility 
        is a good way to disengage the reader, making twisting a technique bordering 
        on art. With such genres as Adventure and Speculative Fiction, you have 
        a wider boundary of incredibility. However, even in those genres, the 
        art is presenting the big twists and making them feel like reality. In 
        that respect, the second technique plays an important part-Resonance.
 
 Resonating with the reader is important. Resonation is a musical term 
        where the listener becomes tuned to the mood and tones the composer sets. 
        A listener may not be able to name the difference between C major and 
        E minor, but they certainly can feel it. For an author, words go beyond 
        their intrinsic meaning for their sound and cultural value. Sound value, 
        both the mode of the sentence and the sound of the word, frames the reader. 
        Changing to the passive mode, for example, will lull the reader; while, 
        the active should be stirring. Mix the two together and you can orchestrate 
        frustration and confusion (with skill). Choose soft words for rain and 
        snow-harsh ones for heat and pain. Sound, in this case, is very much like 
        poetry without the cryptography. Dickens for all his prose was a fine 
        poet within his prose, setting moods and resonating with his readership. 
        Some of that resonance is lost today as we are not his readership and 
        need a cultural guide to value the full weight of this resonance. That 
        does not mean we should disregard the lesson taught.
 
 Here is a use for all that researched material. As you introduce interesting 
        facts and points, make them feel less absurd or less like classroom intrusions 
        by resonating with the reader. Use a modern cultural reference or perhaps 
        a cuss word. Introduce facts through dialog, where the reader can take 
        up one of the character's roles and be included in the conversation. Invite 
        the reader to the party. Engaging the reader-that is, telling the story, 
        means resonating with the reader's knowledge base allowing your reader 
        to participate as a collaborator. Give your reader credit for brains. 
        Do not insult their intelligence with details that the reader can fill 
        in as obvious extensions of the story's activity. If a character is on 
        an airborne plane, there is no need to mention that they are flying. If 
        they drink, there is no need to describe the glass (unless it is the murder 
        weapon). You bring the resonance and the necessary skeleton. The reader 
        will bring the bric a brac.
 
 Another major point of resonating with the reader is your presentation 
        point. Words can be presented in many styles within the same paragraph-from 
        Austen to Hemmingway. These will resonate differently, but adds variety 
        to the story. A brief sentence, such as "He wept" or "The 
        door opened," one active, the other passive-both Hemmingwayesque, 
        is very effective for capping or moving a story along. However, a passage 
        such as "It is in the realm of human experience that men generally 
        do not weep unless provoked in the extreme," or "Shaken by the 
        thunderous waves below the terrace, the mighty door decided to release 
        its unbidden secrets," are good examples of Austenian (and Dickensian) 
        presentation. Both have their place, especially if we add a drop of humor 
        or whimsy. Humor resonates well, and is very engaging.
 
 Combining twist with resonance, we get image. Each reader has a wealth 
        of experience that they bring to your work. If you tap into it, you resonate 
        and engage. If you add to it, you engage relentlessly. Therefore, you 
        should always be conscious of the images you create. Thinking of images 
        brings the old yarn spinner to mind. You could write: "The moon shimmered 
        over the water reflecting the tree-line to the mind's eye." Or, you 
        could twist and resonate this into a memorable image. "Like Trojan 
        horses against the night moon, the old oak forest lorded over the sleeping 
        pond-a beach head of foreboding." Now that is an image that engages. 
        It is also a building block for more images of a Homeric kind, allowing 
        you to reference everything from ankles to doublets, from Helen to Iphegenia. 
        It is also more interesting, and therefore more engaging. Spin the yarn 
        to it credible limits.
 There are local images, such as the one referenced above, which engages 
        the reader as they travel your words; and there are global images, which 
        are built on situations, great big twists and bigger than life resonance. 
        These are the icons of your work. The reader will most probably not remember 
        your words, but they will remember the big pictures - the icons. When 
        we think of The Wizard of Oz, we think tornadoes in Kansas, Scarecrows, 
        Flying Monkeys, and Emerald Cities. We do not think of L. Frank Baum's 
        words. This is due to a famous movie. But, like the movies, the reader 
        will remember iconic scenes. Therefore, to get a reader to say to another 
        (potential) reader "My favorite part was when the cow fell out of 
        the sky and landed on the pitchfork," you must provide both cow and 
        pitchfork, although not necessarily the sky. Even if your genre is Slice 
        of Life psychoanalytical, step by step character development, you must 
        provide an iconic scene, the grand image, for remembrance. When we think 
        of Anna Kareninna. we think Woman throws herself under the wheels of oncoming 
        train (with snow and all the trimmings).
 Engage the reader's memory by seeding. Think of the story and its logistics. 
        Introduce objects and people as seeds for later development. A spoon used 
        to stir the tea, may very well be the twist that turns the story line. 
        The chance meeting of a street bum might be an opportunity to have that 
        street bum become the main character's sister's cousin. Perhaps he was 
        an accountant fallen to hard times. Perhaps you will need an accountant 
        to take inventory of the spoons. Like kneading bread, the more you use 
        and reuse characters and objects, the more engaged your reader becomes. 
        The reader begins to feel at home within your world, because they now 
        have a vocabulary of things and people they trust. The more they trust 
        them, the more your opportunity to twist through contradiction.
 
 A vital part of seeding is structural. As you seed, you shore up the overall 
        structure of your novel. You can seed by using scenario patterns or similar 
        characters. Patterns are redundant behaviors in the plot, mirrors so to 
        speak, that emphasize some part of your theme. At the same time, it hides 
        major beams in your structure. A good example is from J. R. R. Tolkien's 
        Lord of the Rings, which repeatedly has a departure image of a shining 
        woman fading further and further away until disappearing. Tolkien also 
        creates a pattern of danger and safety again and again, until the reader 
        inherently believes that the characters will inevitable by in danger and, 
        likewise, will be saved. Such patterning can be applied to similar characters, 
        usually brothers or sisters, who extend each other's depth by dipping 
        from the same gene pool. This can be seen with Dickens in Nicholas Nickleby 
        with the brothers Cheryble; or, the variety Jane Austen creates with her 
        family portraits. These patterns are part of seeding the work to better 
        engage the reader.
 
 Finally, and most important, movement is critical. Stay in the same place 
        for too long and you risk disengaging the reader. Therefore, you need 
        to know when to dwell and when to move. Move too quickly and the reader 
        is puzzled-too slowly, they nod off. In both cases, disengaged. Remember, 
        if you cease to tell the story, the story ends. The trick for serialized 
        genres, for example, is to forecast story movement so the reader can be 
        disengaged from the story at a point in time and reengage immediately 
        a week later. You can move forward by moving backward, although back flash 
        is somewhat cliche. Nonetheless, you can move backward in story telling 
        by having the characters tell the story. You can manipulate speed by changing 
        points of view, although changing from first person to third person can 
        be disconcerting if not handled well. Dickens discovered that in Bleak 
        House. However, if you need to control the speed of delivery, try this: 
        In a third person novel where character A is always the point of view 
        for the reader, begin a chapter where character B is now the focal point. 
        This will change speed and tone (and will have your English teacher screaming 
        bloody murder. As long as your editor does not commit suicide, you are 
        safe).
 
 Many authors have difficulty moving forward. Their plot points call for 
        a character to go from point A to point B, through many interesting subpoints. 
        They manage to waste a good deal of time and effort writing non-essentially, 
        using valuable materials and disengaging the reader. The secret of moving 
        forward is just that. Do it. Have the character at point A, with a notion 
        that point B is the destination. Then, start a new paragraph at point 
        B. Use a short phrase like, "It was raining at Point B." The 
        reader adjusts to this immediately, and will not miss the mounds of walking, 
        hiking, flying, swimming (although swimming might be worth a subpoint-sharks 
        and barracudas). They will be in the story and very much engaged. They 
        do not need the infamous three asterisks (***).
 
 In conclusion, a good story is one that fully engages the reader by twisting 
        the elements into something worthwhile and memorable. You constantly tell 
        the story, resonating with the reader's natural ability to simulate into 
        the world you create. Give the reader interesting images and some icons, 
        and they walk away satisfied. Hold this world together through seeding 
        and patterning; and, above all, keep it moving. Tell a good story and 
        your characters will write themselves and your materially will team with 
        themes from cover to cover.
 
 Edward 
        C. Patterson  . 
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