Exactly the same, only different

By Julie

Every writer--aspiring or well published--seems to share a certain fear:

The fear of writing the story someone else already wrote. 

I know I've experienced that nearly heart-stopping sensation more than once when I've opened the daily installment of Publisher's Lunch to read a new deal that is too much like the story I'm working on, or when I scanned the latest BookReporter newsletter and realized someone else is already about to hit bookstore shelves with a story that's eerily close to the brilliant new idea I've been researching and outlining and growing extremely attached to.

Even worse is discovering the book you've already sold is publishing the same month as another with a theme so similar you can't imagine how the writer crawled into your heart and brain and channeled your idea. It's EXACTLY THE SAME.

That is, it's exactly the same, only different. 

Who was it that said there are no new stories, only new ways of telling them? That person was very, very wise. Isn't there something about there only being seven different plots? Or was it ten? Maybe 36.

We want a unique hook. Something that catches an agent's eye, an editor's attention, and the rapidly shifting focus of an audience of readers who have a nearly unlimited smorgasbord of choice these days. But rare and lucky is the author who manages to make it all the way from the glimmer of an idea to bookstore shelves with a concept that truly seems to stand out.

When it comes right down to it, novels explore the same themes, the same settings, the same kinds of characters and conflicts and conclusions all the time.

I was reminded of this in the last several weeks, when I've read not two, not three, but FOUR books in a row dealing with memory. This wasn't planned. In fact, I honestly didn't even make the connection until I hit the fourth book and thought, "Whoa. It's memory again!" Reading the cover copy didn't stop me from picking these books to read. In fact, I have to wonder if my subconscious was subtly orchestrating this, wanting to look at memory from every angle. The joy is, I haven't been bored at all. If anything, I've become fascinated with the various facets each author has explored and eagerly looked forward to my nighttime reading more than I have in a long while.

And the thing is, none of these books is alike at all. (Not even the covers, though each conjures up a sense of melancholy and the abstract, for me.)

First I read Before I Go to Sleep, by S. J. Watson, the story of a woman who wakes up every single morning with no memory of her life before a vicious attack. She starts from scratch, reading the same notebook every day that tells her who she is and what she knows up to the time she falls asleep the night before. In the meantime, she's trying to solve the mystery of what happened and fears she may be in danger.

Next, I dove into an advance reader's edition of Kathryn Craft's forthcoming The Art of Falling (Sourcebooks/January 7, 2014). This one's about a woman who remembers everything about her life before a 14-story fall that should have killed her--right up to the night the fall happened. There, her memory stops. She wakes in a hospital room, broken and confused, and the story flip flops between her memories before the fall and present day, where she tries to nudge the pieces together about what happened and why.

I moved on to Charlotte Rogan's The Lifeboat, where a woman who survives the sinking of a passenger liner in 1914 is on trial because of the events that played out in the lifeboat that saved her. She must examine her shifting memories and interpretation of what happened in that small boat, not only for the court, but to come to grips her past and her future.


Finally, I'll likely be reading the last page of Allison Winn Scotch's The Song Remains the Same when I hit the pillow tonight. You'd think after reading three other books about tragedy and memory, I'd be yawning and struggling to reach the end of this engaging story. Not so. In this one, Nell Slattery, one of only two survivors of an airplane crash, doesn't remember a thing about her life before or during the crash. She must sift through the pieces her family and friends hands her, and soon realizes that each is rewriting her history to a degree, in ways that meets their needs or in ways they think will protect her from heartbreak or additional devastation.

I wonder what I'll pick next. I'm more likely to look for something that sounds very different now that I've made the connection between my last four reads. But I won't regret a single one of them--all four engaging and fascinating looks at memory.

This experience has been comforting to me. It just goes to show that story isn't really about the high concept or the basic plot. It's about who tells it, how they tell it, and why they tell it.

And it also tells me that as writers, we probably worry way too much about what other people are writing.

The 1-Day MFA

by Joan

“We need a workshop!” Pamela and I agreed. (Goofy opening dialogue explained later!) We both knew that we could benefit from an intense day on craft. On Saturday, we attended the Writers’ League of Texas’ program, “The 1-Day MFA: Lessons in Voice, Character, & Dialogue,” with instructor Sara Kocek. While it’s hard to get too deep in one day, Sara offered plenty of solid advice for us to apply to our current manuscripts.

Dialogue
When Sara asked who felt they wrote strong dialogue, Pamela and I both raised our hands. After trying with success to out-humor each other co-writing CCS, we felt comfortable with our skills in that area. But Sara pointed out that writing snappy, interesting dialogue is only part of the equation. Dialogue must also:

Advance the plot
Reveal character
Create or increase conflict

Another suggestion Sara offered was to have your characters talk past each other. I love this advice. Here’s my quick in-class exercise where we were instructed to write no more than three words of dialogue per line:

“Where’ve you been?” He didn’t look at her.
She dropped her purse on the floor and crossed the floor. “Red or white.”
“Fine, don’t say.”
“I will, later.”
He heard her twisting the corkscrew, grunting.
“Red, it is,” she said.
He finally looked up. She sipped too long on her glass, squeezing the bridge of her nose.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said.
“No, it isn’t.” Her voice shook.
He lowered his voice. “You’re never late.”
“I got fired.”

Okay, it’s not perfect, but you get the idea.

Character
Next Sara offered tips on writing strong characters. Supplying your protagonist with a driving desire is key—what does she want more than anything and what stands in her way? But that’s just the beginning. To make things more interesting, give your character contradicting traits or beliefs. Better still, give her a secret—if revealed, this secret would change the character’s standing in the world. For example, it would be a bad day for my character Janey if anyone found out that she, a respected art conservator, had a wardrobe of confiscated antiques at home.

Voice
Voice is an area I struggle with. I’ve had a particular challenge in my current manuscript because I’ve got to get right not only the Italian and Irish immigrants in Victorian London, but also two present-day architects who share the same background. Luckily, one embraces his Italian and Jewish heritages by interspersing ethnic phrases in his speech. The other is a lonely widower with a happy-go-lucky Springer Spaniel. Sara’s main advice was to make sure your character’s voice sounds authentic.

Plot
We also learned the elements of plot and structure, how to weave in sub-plot, how to write strong beginnings and endings (and how NOT to!) Don’t start your book with the weather. Don’t place your readers into an otherwise normal day in the life of your character. Better to drop them into a riveting scene where they grab onto the coattails of your character and don’t let go. As for endings, trust your readers' intelligence—resist the urge to draw conclusions. Avoid the soap opera trap (unless you’re Jane Austen). And don’t begin or end your book with a quote (unless you’re Margaret Mitchell).

If you’re in the Austin area, Sara Kocek is offering a second WLT workshop. Sign up here.

Escaping the Ho-hum

By Pamela

Last night I lounged comfortably in my lawn chair and trained my eyes heavenward for the explosions of fireworks that were launched from a sports complex about a mile away. While I sat among friends and family, I couldn't help feeling a little jaded as the first boom rumbled through the night. Really, each one pretty much looked like the ones I'd watched last year. And the year before that. And, if I could remember that far back, the ones I saw 20, 30, 40 years ago.

But then a plane flew by. And another one, and I said to my neighbor, "That's the way to watch fireworks! I'm putting that on my bucket list." She agreed and then told me that she and her husband huddled under an umbrella in Singapore to watch a fireworks competition! a couple of years ago, and I thought, Yes! That would be cool too.

Similar challenges present themselves in writing. Sure you can view the explosion of the latest trend in fiction and decide to climb into the fracas, but unless you up the ante somehow--really create a kaboom!--your story will go unnoticed by the gatekeepers who dictate your fate.

Recently I submitted the first ten pages of my WIP to a competition to get some feedback regarding my story. I was pleased by most of the reviewer's comments but found my 'hook' portion in need of some work. And I knew that, really, so I've put some thought into how my story unfolds and am playing with a character making a decision I didn't have planned out in addition to getting out of my comfort zone.

It reminded me of an interview I saw months ago when the movie "The Dilemma" came out. Vince Vaughn explained the process of plotting the movie's path and, after I watched the movie on DVD with my son the other day, I talked him through the hook, remembering Vince doing basically the same to promote the film. (Spoiler alert!)

I told my son that the premise of the movie probably started with: What if a guy sees his best friend's wife with another man? Should he tell him? Then they upped the stakes. What if they weren't just friends but also business partners? AND they were in the middle of a business deal that would make or break them so the timing wasn't great. AND what if the guy who saw the affair had slept with the friend's wife a long time ago, before she met her husband? AND what if the guy's wife told the friend that she'd deny the affair and blame the friend for coming on to her? AND what if the guy who saw the whole thing wasn't all that trustworthy himself, like maybe he had a history of gambling addiction? 

So, at first glance you have a dilemma: A guy sees his friend's wife with another man. Which becomes THE Dilemma--something much more than: Will my friend be upset if he learns the truth about his wife?--when the stakes are upped. 

When the fireworks become a competition and we view them from the sky instead of the safety of our comfortable lawn chair, THEN we have a story.

Time to Think

by Elizabeth

Funny thing about productivity.

A couple of weeks ago I was on a tear, writing every day, producing words, moving along with my WIP. I knew much of it would never make it to the final draft, but along I plugged anyway. I'd made an appointment with the muse, and even if she didn't decide to show up, I would, and I'd work alone if I had to.

Then life hit again, and it coincided with doubt, and let me tell you, for a writer that isn't the prettiest combination. Its offspring, in this case, was twins: self-doubt and lethargy. Not the cutest pair in the nursery.

I needed to get back to the basics. Plot. Story. Characters. I didn't really have enough of any of them, more a situation for some cardboard cliches. Situations might be interesting, but they don't make a novel. I needed a refresher course on how to write a book. It showed up in the most obvious of places.

Books, of course. I read, and with the mindset of a writer. It helped that the novel I'd happened to grab at the library earlier in the week had realistic twists and turns, new information that kept me guessing and just a step ahead of the protagonist. (I love feeling smart that way.) Plot! I thought. Story! Not to mention characters. I finished the book and immediately thumbed through it, chapter by chapter, outlining its trajectory.

Then I put down my pen. And started thinking. I thought on the treadmill; pondered as I waited between appointments and in carpool lanes; noodled my way through long walks in the new crisp air. Thought about my book. Its plot, story, characters. I allowed myself to abandon what I thought it should be about, and let my mind decide anew. I think some of the characters had a word or seven to put in as well, not all of them suitable for a family blog.

But: I fell in love.

I'd had an idea and trudged out some 12K words from it, but the heart wasn't yet there. My heart wasn't there. Not only had I just placed some characters in a situation rather than a story, I was also ambivalent about committing to this project. My brain kept meandering to other stories (ahem, maybe situations), other characters. I felt unfaithful, even as I showed up each day right on schedule.

Taking the time, giving myself that gift of it, to think, made the difference. I saw how the first chapter would play out, tied it to the central theme of the book. I invented peripheral characters with the big job of advancing the story. I made decisions about the challenges my characters would face, helping tap the elusive-for-me plot into place. I saw how the book would end, how it would break my heart in doing so, only to staple it back together. I felt those characters' hopes rise as their stories unfolded, and crumbled beside them with their disappointments. I found the excitement I'd been missing.

So now I'm ready to get back to work, scribble out words that might stand a chance of surviving revision and critique. I'm ready to show up and see if the muse meets me, and my guess is that this time she'll be there more often. If not, I'll survive. I've got a real story now, and a plot. I've got the enthusiasm. I've got some people with a story to tell, and they're counting on me to do it.

It's the STORY, stupid!

By Susan


I had an “ah-ha moment” recently that has made a huge difference in how, and why, I write. It’s nothing new, and I am not the first to figure this one out. It’s no secret, but by making a small shift in my approach, I am able to look at writing in a totally different light.

It’s all about the story.

Now, that may not seem too earth-shattering. Why else do people read, but to uncover a new tale, something fresh and insightful? Yet when I started my first attempt at a novel, I got lost in the words and forgot what I was writing. It went something like this: I had an idea. Then I added characters, built a basic plotline in my head, and started, with furrowed brow and calloused fingers, to write it down.

The problem was that I obsessed about the verbiage and phrasing, the rewriting and editing, instead of focusing on just telling the story. I was paying attention to the words, not the plot. I wanted each sentence to be perfectly crafted, each paragraph a song. I could see pretty little chapters, wrapped like gifts to form a succinct and flawless novel. In my head, it was all about the writing of it, not about the plot. And it was painfully and shockingly bad.

I never finished that one, with all my obsessions about word choices and sentence structure. Somehow I lost the thread of it in all my high-minded literary attempts at ‘being a writer’. It unraveled, turning into a long journey with no destination. It was the perfect example of trying too hard and going nowhere.

I am a member of several writing groups, and I am lucky to get to listen weekly to other writers read their work aloud. All of them are good writers. And by that, I mean each sentence has a subject and a predicate. No one is too flowery with adverbs, and everyone knows about ‘showing not telling’. There is always good dialog to move the story along. The problem, as I see it, is that not everyone has a solid and interesting story idea. And that’s what will make or break you.

I don’t think that that is a matter of opinion or genre choice, because if the writing is gorgeous and the story is dreadful, no agent is going to take it, because no publisher will publish it, because no one will read it. A good story needs to have some basic elements that I forgot about when I got too caught up in writing and not aware of exactly what I was writing.

Here are some basics to keep in mind when crafting a good story.

1) Stay open-minded, but don’t spin off into the stratosphere. I like to follow where my hand takes me and not always chase my pre-decided plotline, because often I end in a much better place than my original plan would have taken me. However, I have also driven off cliffs with my plot and completely lost whatever I was trying to say. Prolific author John Irving says he plots each book entirely before writing it, and then sticks to his plan. Stephen King claims to have never plotted a book in his life. I believe that there has to be a happy medium. Find your sweet spot between structured and free-form, I say.

2) Remember your protagonist and antagonist, and never forget their motivations. Always keep the motive for their actions at the forefront, and stay true to their personality (hopefully you have given them personality). To do this, you have to know your people pretty well. Why is your protagonist acting the way she does? How does she change throughout the novel? What is her goal, and how does she achieve it? Who is trying to stop her, and why? Some call it character arc and it’s a good term to know.

3) Take me somewhere surprising. Please don’t introduce me to people and then bore me with where they go. Teach me something new. Surprise me with their back-story, something delicious that changes everything. Shock me with a decision they make, but make sure I understand why it makes sense. Pat Conroy did this to me in The Prince of Tides. Every time I read it, I am amazed at what those crazy Wingos do. And I love it every time.

All of this is not to say that a great idea and a great plot will hold up terrible writing, because it won’t. By starting with a great story and good characters who do surprising things, your writing can follow their lead. Just don’t attempt it the other way around.