Showing posts with label conflict. Show all posts
Showing posts with label conflict. Show all posts

Friday, January 9, 2009

The Fill-in-the-Blank Guide to Writing Fiction

Copyright 2009 by Gary L. Pullman
 
Creating Characters
 

1. Create the Character’s General Profile

Creating a character is largely a matter of making choices, or decisions. To aid you in making these decisions, you can use a fill-in-the-blank decision-making template. We will start with a blank template. Then, we will fill in its blanks to show an example of how the template can be used to create a character. Notes: If one of the blanks does not apply, simply write "N/A" in it, to indicate that the blank (and the situation to which it refers) is “not applicable.” When necessary, add more blanks--for example, your character may have more than one friend or coworker. You may want to add brief notations in parentheses after an entry. For example, if the character is separated or divorced from a spouse, you may want to indicate this situation by the parenthetical notation “(separated)” or “(divorced).” You can add other elements, represented by labeled blanks, to further extend the construction of your character.

____________________ (name of character) is a(n) ____________________ (age of character) ____________________ (social role of character), who works as a(n) ____________________ (vocation of character), supervised by ____________________ (name of character’s supervisor) and assisted by ____________________ (name of coworker or coworkers; add blanks as necessary); his or her friend (or friends) is (are) ____________________ (name[s] of character’s friend or friends; add blanks as necessary), whom he or she met while he or she was ____________________ (name of activity that the character was performing when he or she met his or her friend or friends). The character lives in ____________________ (name of hometown and state) at (in) ____________________ (type of residence--for example, home, apartment) with ____________________ (name[s] of family member or members or roommate or roommates; add blanks as necessary), his or her ____________________ (type of relationship between other resident or residents and the character). His or her boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse is ____________________ (name of character’s boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse), whom he or she met at ____________________ (name of place at which the character met his or her boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse), while ____________________ (type of the activity that the character was performing when he or she met his or her boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse).

Here is an example:

Buffy Summers (name of character) is a(n) 16-year-old (age of character) high school student (social role of character), who works as a(n) vampire slayer (vocation of character), supervised by Rupert Giles (name of character’s supervisor), and assisted by Xander Harris, Willow Rosenberg, Cordelia Chase, and others (name[s] of coworker or coworkers; add blanks as necessary); his or her friend (friends) is (are) Xander Harris, Willow Rosenberg, Cordelia Chase, and others (name[s] of character’s friend or friends; add blanks as necessary), whom he or she met while he or she was attending high school (name of activity that the character was performing when he or she met his or her friend or friends). The character lives in Sunnydale, California (name of hometown and state or country) at (in) home (type of residence--for example, home, apartment) with Joyce Summers (name[s] of family member or members or roommate or roommates; add blanks as necessary), his or her mother (type of relationship between other resident or residents and the character). His or her boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse is Angel (name of character’s boyfriend or girlfriend, husband or wife), whom he or she met at The Bronze (a club for teenagers) (name of place at which the character met his or her boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse), while he or she was dancing (type of activity that the character was performing when he or she met his or her boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse).

To make your character profile easier to read, simply eliminate the underlines, any unneeded or redundant material, and the parenthetical elements:

Buffy Summers is a 16-year-old high school student who works as a vampire slayer, supervised by Rupert Giles, and assisted by Xander Harris, Willow Rosenberg, Cordelia Chase, and others; her friends are Xander Harris, Willow Rosenberg, Cordelia Chase, and others, whom she met while she was attending high school. The character lives in Sunnydale, California, at home with Joyce Summers, her mother. Her boyfriend is Angel, whom she met at The Bronze (a club for teenagers), while she was dancing.

Notes: If the character’s situation changes, update the template. For example, Buffy Summers graduates from high school and attends UC Sunnydale. Thereafter, she drops out of college and returns home. She also acquires a kid sister, Dawn, and her mother dies. Her friend Willow moves in with her, and they acquire another roommate. For a while, Giles moves back to England, so she is without a supervisor, or mentor. Her friend Cordelia Chase moves to Los Angeles, and Buffy sees her only rarely thereafter. Other slayers (Kendra and Faith) are introduced, as are a group of Potential Slayers, all of whom complicate the plot and its various conflicts. Using a copy of the blank template, repeat the process for each character in your story.

2. Create the Character’s Back Story. A character’s back story makes him or her more believable as a character and can help to establish his or her motivation for taking the course of action that he or she adopts in his or her present situation. Make sure that the back story relates to and supports the main story that is presently being told. Otherwise, it will be irrelevant and confusing to the reader. To aid you in making these decisions, you can use a decision-making template, such as the one that we use, which takes the form of a fill-in-the-blank format. We will start with a blank template. Then, we will fill in its blanks to show an example of how the template can be used to create a character’s back story.

Notes: Many of the same notes apply to creating the character’s back story as apply to creating his or her general profile.

Before _________________ (name of character) _________________ (incident that precipitated the character’s present situation, in general), he or she was a(n) _________________ (social role of character) living in ____________________ (name of hometown and state) at (in) ____________________ (type of residence--for example, home, apartment) with ____________________ (name[s] of family member or members or roommate or roommates; add blanks as necessary), his or her ____________________ (type of relationship between other resident or residents and the character). His or her boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse is ____________________ (name of character’s boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse), whom he or she met at ____________________ (name of place at which the character met his or her boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse), while ____________________ (that the character was performing when he or she met his or her boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse). At this time of his or her life, the greatest difficulty or problem that he or she faced was ____________________ (type of difficulty or problem), which resulted in ____________________ (result of difficulty or problem), and now affects him or her by ____________________ (brief explanation as to how the difficulty or problem NOW affects the character).

Here is an example:

Before Buffy Summers (name of character) moved to Sunnydale, CA (incident that precipitated the character’s present situation, in general), he or she was a(n)high school student (social role of character) living in Los Angeles, CA (name of hometown and state) at (in) home (type of residence--for example, home, apartment) with Joyce Summers and Hank Summers (name[s] of family member or members or roommate or roommates; add blanks as necessary), his or her parents (type of relationship between other resident or residents and the character). His or her boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse is N/A (name of character’s boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse), whom he or she met at N/A (name of place at which the character met his or her boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse), while N/A (that the character was performing when he or she met his or her boyfriend or girlfriend or spouse). At this time of his or her life, the greatest difficulty or problem that he or she faced was her parents’ divorce and her calling to be the current vampire slayer (type of difficulty or problem), which resulted in her blaming herself for her parents’ divorce and her desire to live a normal life (result of difficulty or problem), and now affects him or her by making her desire to please her father and causing her to divide her loyalties between her duty and her desire to socialize (brief explanation as to how the difficulty or problem NOW affects the character).

Again, if the character’s back story is further developed, update the template. For example, Buffy Summers’ father comes to visit her in Sunnydale on several occasions, and a demon uses her guilt concerning her parents’ divorce to emotionally manipulate her. Buffy’s desire to date and to socialize with her friends often causes problems between her and her supervisor, the Watcher Rupert Giles, and between her and her mother, Joyce; in addition, it sometimes endangers others. At one time, she even considers “quitting” her “job” as a slayer and letting others (Kendra, Faith, and her friends) take over her duties. Although she remains true to her calling, doing so requires many personal sacrifices.

Finally, simplify the result to facilitate the ease with which it is read:

Before Buffy Summers moved to Sunnydale, CA, she was a high school student living in Los Angeles, CA, at home with Joyce Summers and Hank Summers, her parents. At this time of her life, the greatest difficulty or problem that she faced was her parents’ divorce and her calling to be the current vampire slayer, which resulted in her blaming herself for her parents’ divorce and her desire to live a normal life, and now affects her by causing her to seek to please her father and to divide her loyalties between her duty and her desire to socialize.

3. Define the Character’s Major and Minor Conflicts. The character must be involved in at least one major and usually several related minor conflicts between or among aspects or elements of nature, him- or herself, other characters, and/or God. In other words, conflicts will be natural, psychological, social, and spiritual or theological. Use the following template to identify this conflict or these conflicts. Notes: Many of the same notes apply to identifying the conflict in which your character is involved as apply to creating his or her general profile. If several conflicts are in operation in your story, you may want to develop a template for each type of conflict and each specific example of the conflict that your character encounters rather than try to represent all of them on a single template.

As a(n) ________________ (social role of character) and a(n) _________________ (vocation of character), __________________ (name of character) is in conflict with __________________ (force, plant, animal, person, group, or spiritual being) concerning __________________ (brief description of the nature of the conflict), which conflict is resolved by __________________ (method of conflict’s resolution), when __________________ (brief description of character’s action in resolving the conflict) in (at) __________________ (location at which the conflict is resolved).

Here is an example:

As a(n) high school student (social role of character) and a(n) vampire slayer (vocation of character), Buffy Summers (name of character) is in conflict with her calling (force, plant, animal, person, group, or spiritual being) concerning foregoing a “normal life” in favor of slaying vampires (brief description of the nature of the conflict), which conflict is resolved by the near death of her mother and one of her friends because of Buffy’s neglect of her duties as the slayer (method of conflict’s resolution), when Buffy resumes her duties as the slayer (brief description of character’s action in resolving the conflict) in (at) Sunnydale, CA (location at which the conflict is resolved).

Again, simplify the result to facilitate the ease with which it is read:

As a high school student and a vampire slayer, Buffy Summers is in conflict with her calling concerning foregoing a “normal life” in favor of slaying vampires, which conflict is resolved by the near death of her mother and one of her friends because of Buffy’s neglect of her duties as the slayer, when Buffy resumes her duties as the slayer in Sunnydale, CA.

4. Identify the Character’s Motivation(s). The character must act because something internal (intrinsic) or external (extrinsic) compels him or her to act. This compulsion, the character’s motivation, must be both significant (meaningful and important) and powerful, especially if his or her acting upon this motive could or actually does endanger him- or herself or others. As a result of a past or present experience, this motive will be grounded in some belief, emotion, or value. At the same time, the character’s motive may make him or her sympathetic to the reader. Use the following template to identify the character’s motivation.

Notes: Many of the same notes apply to identifying your character’s motivation as apply to creating his or her general profile.

________________ (name of character) is motivated to ________________ (vocational role of character) by his or her ________________ (belief, experience, emotion, or value) because ________________ (name of experience, past or present, which established the character’s motive).

Here is an example:

Buffy Summers (name of character) is motivated to slay vampires (vocational role of character) by his or her valuing of human life and social justice (belief, experience, emotion, or value) because her friends and family were nearly killed by a vampire (name of experience, past or present, which established the character’s motive).

Again, simplify the result to facilitate the ease with which it is read:

Buffy Summers is motivated to slay vampires by her valuing of human life and social justice because her friends and family were nearly killed by a vampire.

Plotting the Story

Literary critic Gustav Freytag divided plots into five parts, or acts: (1) exposition, (2) rising action, (3) turning point, or climax, (4) falling action, and (5) resolution (comedy) or catastrophe (tragedy). In addition, he identifies two other points: (1) the inciting moment, which concludes the exposition as it initiates the rising action and (2) an optional moment of final suspense, in which the reader or viewer is left in doubt for a moment as to whether the protagonist shall succeed or fail in his or her attempt to realize the goal that he or she has set or that has been set for him or her. In the exposition, background information (such as the introduction of the protagonist and other characters, the identification of the setting, and the introduction of the basic, or main, conflict) is provided. The inciting moment initiates the rising action, wherein the conflict is complicated as a series of increasingly more difficult obstacles is placed between the protagonist and his or realization of his or her goal. The turning point, or climax, occurs as the protagonist begins to succeed or fail at his or her attempt to achieve his or her goal. (In a comedy, which is defined as a story in which the main character is better off at the end of the story than he or she was at the beginning of the story, things will go badly for him or her at the beginning of the story but will begin to improve at the turning point, or climax. In a tragedy, which is defined as a story in which the main character is worse off at the end of the story than he or she was at the beginning of the story, things will go well for him or her at the beginning of the story but will begin to worsen at the turning point, or climax.) The falling action unravels the conflict that was complicated during the rising action. If the story is a comedy, it will end in a resolution, whereas, if it is a tragedy, it will end in a catastrophe. With this information in mind, you can use the following template to structure the plot of your story:

The main character, _________________ _________________, wants to_________________ because _________________ , but he or she must struggle against _________________ _________________, who wants _________________ because _________________. This story takes place in _________________ (location) in _________________ (time period). To attain his or her goal, _________________ _________________ (the main character) must overcome the following, increasingly more difficult obstacles: _________________, _________________, and _________________ (add more if desired). For the main character, for whom everything goes _________________ (well or poorly) at the beginning of the story, the turning point (climax) occurs when he or she _________________, and then the opposite state of affairs ensues, as things begin to _________________(worsen or improve). At the end of the story, _________________ _________________ (the main character) _________________ (attains or does not attain) his or her goal, because _________________ (reason), learning that ________________ (lesson learned from the experience; the story’s theme) and, as a result, changes by _________________ (how the main character changes).

Here is an example:

The main character, Dorothy Gale, wants to return to her home in Kansas because she is homesick, but she must struggle against the Wicked Witch of the West, who wants Dorothy‘s ruby slippers because they are magic. This story takes place in Oz (location) in the present day (time period). To attain her goal, of returning home, Dorothy Gale (the main character) must overcome the following, increasingly more difficult obstacles: escape the fighting trees, survive the deadly poppy field, and seize the Wicked Witch‘s broomstick (add more if desired). For the main character, for whom everything goes poorly (well or poorly) at the beginning of the story, the turning point (climax) occurs when she is sent by the Wizard to seize the Wicked Witch‘s broomstick, and then the opposite state of affairs ensues, as things begin to improve (worsen or improve). At the end of the story, Dorothy Gale (the main character) attains (attains or does not attain) her goal, because Glinda, the Good Witch, tells Dorothy how to use the ruby slippers to take her home (reason), learning that there‘s no place like home (lesson learned from the experience; the story’s theme) and, as a result, changes by being content with her life on her Kansas farm (how the main character changes).

Again, simpifly the result to facilitate the ease with which it is read: eliminate the parenthetical elements, redundancies, and underlining, and make any other minor changes that are needed or desired:

Dorothy Gale wants to return to her home in Kansas because she is homesick, but she must struggle against the Wicked Witch of the West, who wants Dorothy's ruby slippers because they are magic. This story takes place in Oz, in the present day. To attain her goal, of returning home, Dorothy must overcome the following, increasingly more difficult obstacles: escape the fighting trees, survive the deadly poppy field, and seize the Wicked Witch‘s broomstick. For the main character, for whom everything goes poorly at the beginning of the story, the turning point occurs when she is sent by the Wizard to seize the Wicked Witch‘s broomstick, and then the opposite state of affairs ensues, as things begin to improve. At the end of the story, Dorothy attains her goal, because Glinda, the Good Witch, tells Dorothy how to use the ruby slippers to take her home, and she learns that there’s no place like home and, as a result, changes by being content with her life on her Kansas farm.

Establish the Setting

The setting of a story includes the time and place and the historical and the cultural milieu in which the action, or what happens, takes place. It is the container, as it were, of the story. Often, the setting will help you to determine who your characters are; what their interests, goals, and motivations are; and maybe even what the conflicts and the theme of your story will be. Use the following template to establish your story’s setting. Notes: Many of the same notes apply to establishing your story’s setting as apply to creating a character.

The story takes place at in (at) _________________ (place) at (in) __________________ (time period), during _________________ (historical period or event), and is important to the character’s _________________ (emotional or psychological state or conflict) because it _________________ (reason).

Here is an example:

The story takes place at in (at) Kansas and Oz (place) at (in) the nineteenth century (time period), during N/A (historical period or event), and is important to the character’s feelings about her home (emotional or psychological state or conflict) because it represents a place with which she is dissatisfied at first but a place with which she is content later (reason).

Again, simply the result to facilitate the ease with which it is read:

The story takes place in Kansas and Oz in the nineteenth century and is important to the character’s feelings about her home because it represents a place with which she is dissatisfied at first but a place with which she is content later.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Making a Scene

copyright 2008 by Gary L. Pullman

The scene is the building block of the short story, the novel, or the screenplay. It features one or more characters; a conflict; dialogue, interior monologue, stream of consciousness, or some other representation of the character’s or characters’ thoughts and feelings; and, like the full-fledged story of which it is a part, a scene has a beginning, a middle, and an end that is developed climactically; and the scene advances a larger, specific purpose, such as developing the narrative’s overall plot, introducing an important character, intensifying suspense, complicating the story’s basic conflict, introducing or developing a related subplot, characterizing an important character, delineating the setting, and so forth.

In horror stories, whether in print or on film, the scene also usually (but not always) communicates something terrifying, horrific, or repulsive. What Edgar Allan Poe advises, in “The Philosophy of Composition,” concerning the short story (or narrative poem) as a whole applies also to the scene: it must be carefully plotted, with the single, unifying effect that is to be created in mind from the start, and everything in the scene should lead to the development of this effect. In short, one must know one’s purpose in writing the scene--what he or she means to accomplish by it--before putting pen to paper or fingertips to keyboard. One must remember to connect one scene with the next through a series of cause-and-effect relationships. One scene, in other words, must logically lead to the next, and it, in turn, must lead to the one after it, and so forth, throughout the story. There mist be a reason, or purpose, for each scene. Otherwise, irrelevancies and confusion will be introduced into what, otherwise, might have been a meaningful and intelligible, perhaps even gripping, story.

In fact, whether the writer also happens to be an illustrator or not, he or she can make some rough pictures, similar to the sketches that make up a film’s storyboard, to indicate the scene’s basic purpose, structure, and Storyboards: What Are They? offers tips for storyboard construction that could aid writers in developing story scenes. The website’s article reduces the process to six steps:
  1. Think of your story as a video.
  2. In your first frame show an overview of your primary setting. Let the setting help communicate the point you want to get across or the mood you want to set.
  3. Make frames that show the 5 W’s. [These elements are identified as the scene’s “who,” “what,” “when,” “where,” and “why” elements.]
  4. Identify the characters. [These characters are identified as the protagonist and the antagonist.]
  5. Plot. [Specify the problem, the climax, and the resolution, or the means by which the “problem is solved--which can lead directly to your message.”]
  6. Message. [This is the “moral, perspective on life or observation about life,” the theme, that the scene is intended to convey.]
Here is an example of Saul Bass’ storyboarding of the famous shower scene in Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho:


Although it is not a horror story, the original Karate Kid movie offers a good model of the construction and use of scenes, as does It’s a Wonderful Life, My Fair Lady, The Wizard of Oz, and The Sound of Music, to name but a few of many well-made stories.

In horror, Poe is a superb storyteller. Each of his scenes is deliberate and purposeful and leads plausibly to the next. Other master craftsmen and artists who are especially adept at the construction and sequencing of horror story scenes include Alfred Hitchcock, Ridley Scott, Stephen King, Dean Koontz, Wes Craven, Christian Nyby, H. P. Lovecraft, H. G. Wells, Mary Shelley, Shirley Jackson, Bram Stoker, H. P. Lovecraft, and Ray Bradbury. By studying how they create and use scenes, others may benefit, improving their own fiction by dissecting the work of the accomplished others who have gone before them.

Saturday, November 8, 2008

It Is Necessary to Suffer To Be Beautiful. . . Or Believable. . . Or Interesting

copyright 2008 by Gary L. Pullman

Joss Whedon, the creator of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, once told the show’s star, Sarah Michelle Gellar, that, to create interesting television, it was necessary to make her--or her character, at least--suffer.

His tongue-in-cheek statement has a serious aspect to it, for it refers to the need of a narrative to depict conflict. Cleanth Brooks and Robert Penn Warren, authors of Understanding Fiction, point out that without such conflict, there is no, nor can there be any, story.

In longer works of fiction, such as epic poems, television series, movies, and novels, the main character is going to be beset by problems. Several, not just one, is going to impede his or her progress toward reaching the goal that he or she has set for him- or herself. Some are likely to be due to circumstances, others to the actions of other characters, and still others to the protagonist’s own internal conflicts. In general, such conflicts will be natural, psychological, social, or theological. Most likely, two or three--or perhaps all--types of conflict will be operative in such a story.

A couple of examples, represented by simple diagrams, will illustrate the point. In the diagrams, the circle represents the character whose name it bears, and the text at the ends of the lines radiating from the circle represent the conflicts, some psychological, some social, some theological, some situational, in which the character finds him- or herself.


The first diagram shows the plight in which the protagonist of Stephen King’s novel Carrie finds herself. On the edge of adolescence, Carrie lives with her mother, Margaret, a mentally disturbed religious fanatic who considers sex to be wicked. Carrie’s mother has never bothered to tell her daughter the facts of life, and, when, while Carrie is showering following a physical education class, she begins her first menstruation, she is horrified to think that she is bleeding to death. Her classmates find her horror a cause for amusement, and, cruelly, they toss tampons at her, chanting, “Plug it up! Plug it up! Plug it up!” Although the teacher puts an end to the girls’ taunts, Carrie is humiliated.

A social pariah among her peers even before this incident, Carrie continues to be tormented by her schoolmates. However, her life seems about to take a turn for the better when one of the school’s more popular boys, Tommy Ross, asks her to be his date to the prom. Instead, after she is given a taste, as it were, of what it would be like to be accepted by her peers, she is again publicly humiliated when she is drenched in pigs’ blood. She loses control of herself, unleashing, with devastating effect, the telekinetic power with which she was born. Before she is through exacting vengeance, she has killed most of her fellow students and many of the school’s teachers, destroyed the gymnasium, and obliterated her city’s downtown area. Returning home, she has a showdown with her mother, in which she learns that she is the product of her mother’s having been raped. Margaret stabs Carrie, but Carrie kills her before, later, Carrie herself is killed.Another King novel, Desperation puts its protagonist, twelve-year-old David Carver, through his paces, as indicated by this diagram. As a younger child, David had promised God that he would serve him, no matter what God required of him, if God would heal David’s friend, who was dying. God honored David’s prayer, and, now, years later, God has a mission for David: save the captives of the demon Tak, who, having escaped burial in an abandoned mine, possesses the bodies of various residents of Desperation, Nevada. David manages to do so, at the cost of his little sister’s and his mother’s deaths and his father’s near-loss of his sanity. David concludes that “God is cruel.” However, another character, John Edward Marinville, something of a stand-in for King himself, it seems, advises David that God is beyond human understanding and that, although his actions may seem “cruel” to human beings, God possesses many attributes, including, especially, love.

During the course of the seven-year-long series Buffy the Vampire Slayer, protagonist Buffy Summers suffers many a conflict, not only with demons, but with inner demons as well, as the diagram representing her struggles suggests. It is her lot in life to have been “called” as the “chosen one” by The Powers That Be, to protect the world from vampires, demons, and other monsters that slither, creep, or crawl out of the Hellmouth (located beneath her high school’s library) each week. Instead, Buffy longs to live a “normal life” in which, as a teen, she can moon over boys and whine about homework. Over the years, she is unlucky in love (to put it mildly), and a number of people she loves, including her parents (her father through divorce, her mother through death) are taken from her. She herself dies not once but twice along the way.

Writers who want to create fully developed characters who seem lifelike enough to be a tormented soul trapped in the hell that is high school, to serve as latter-day servants of God, or to fulfill whatever other role he or she is assigned should take Whedon’s dictum to heart. Just as it is necessary to suffer to be beautiful, as the French say, it is necessary that the protagonist suffer to be believable and for the story to have interest to its reader, as Whedon says.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

Plot Meets Laws of Motion

copyright 2008 by Gary L. Pullman


Since writers tend to look for metaphors everywhere, they’re apt to find some of them in the strangest places.

How strange?

Think Sir Isaac Newton’s three laws of motion. Then, think plot. Now, there are a couple of strange bedfellows, to be sure.

Nevertheless, the metaphor seems to work, and, for writers, being the pragmatic souls they are, that’s all that matters.

To wit:

1. Every object in a state of uniform motion tends to remain in that state of motion unless an external force is applied to it.

In fiction, the external force is the plot’s inciting moment, which is the launch pad, so to speak, that launches the rest of the story’s action. However, in fiction, the inciting moment can be either internal or external and, in fact, is often likely to be both, as is Dorothy Gale’s decision to run away from home and her subsequent leaving, which results in her being caught in a tornado and whisked off to Oz. Once he or she is set in motion, the main character will continue to overcome obstacles (see the third law of motion, below) until he or she succeeds or fails in realizing or attaining his or her goal.

2. The relationship between an object’s mass m, its acceleration a, and the applied force F is F=ma. Acceleration and force are vectors, and the direction of the force vector is the same as the direction of the acceleration vector.

This law corresponds to the pacing of the story’s action. The bigger the threat that the protagonist encounters, the faster the story’s pace becomes; lesser threats or absent threats slow the pacing.

3. For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

The protagonist is locked in a dance with the antagonist. Every time the former attempts to realize or attain his or her goal, the latter acts to block or otherwise frustrate the protagonist’s effort or other obstacles appear to oppose the main character. These series of antagonistic reactions to the protagonist’s actions represent the story’s rising action (that part of the plot wherein the story’s basic conflict is complicated, prior to the climax, or turning point).

Of course, the laws, which may be sufficient to account for motion, don’t exhaust the mechanics of plot, but they are a memorable way of summarizing at least some of the important elements of this element of fiction and kind of cool and interesting in a nerdy sort of way to writers, readers, literary critics, and other geeks and nerds.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

The Fatal Flaw, Part the Second

copyright 2008 by Gary L. Pullman

In the previous post, we saw how one character trait, the fatal flaw, brings about the tragic protagonist’s downfall, using, as an example, the irresponsibility of the teenage characters in I Know What You Did Last Summer.
In this post, continuing to use irresponsibility as our example, we’re going to see how to exploit this trait in developing character.

To do so, you’ll need a thesaurus. Fortunately, almost every word processor has one, and, if you are without a computer, they’re readily available at your local bookstore or public library. Although they’re classified as reference works, many libraries allow previous editions to be checked out.

Using the thesaurus feature in the Microsoft Works word processing program obtained this list of synonyms for irresponsible (always use the adjectival, rather than the nominal, form of the word--the adjective, in other words, not the noun):

Irresponsible
Reckless
Careless
Negligent
Foolish
Rash
Immature

That’s not a bad list, but it’s only the beginning.

Next, for each of the synonyms that resulted from the initial use of the thesaurus, we use the thesaurus again, ignoring redundancies, until it seems that we‘ve exhausted all useful additions to our list of synonyms:

Reckless
Wild
Thoughtless
Uncontrolled
Inattentive
Hasty

Careless
Slapdash
Happy-go-lucky
Casual
Slipshod
Sloppy
Lackadaisical

Negligent
Neglectful
Remiss
Lax
Slack
Forgetful

Foolish
Stupid
Silly
Idiotic
Unwise
Impudent
Irrational

Rash
Impulsive
Imprudent
Injudicious

Immature
Young
Undeveloped
Juvenile
Adolescent
Unripe
Childish

We’ve accumulated quite a list of traits (adjectives name traits, as we saw in our previous post). We could add still more by repeating this process for the synonyms that we just added to the roster, but, for our purposes, we have enough. Our total list, now, is (alphabetized):

Adolescent
Careless
Casual
Childish
Foolish
Forgetful
Happy-go-lucky
Hasty
Idiotic
Immature
Imprudent
Impudent
Impulsive
Inattentive
Injudicious
Irrational
Irresponsible
Juvenile
Lackadaisical
Lax
Neglectful
Negligent
Rash
Reckless
Remiss
Silly
Slack
Slapdash
Sloppy
Stupid
Thoughtless
Uncontrolled
Undeveloped
Unripe
Unwise
Wild
Young

Okay. So what. We have a list of adjectives, or character traits.

Such a list can provide a lot of fodder for characterization--to the discerning eye.

Notice that these synonyms suggest some traits that we often think of as neutral or even positive, despite the fact that they were all derived from the same root, as it were, irresponsibility: casual, happy-go-lucky, impulsive. It is only when such traits as these are extreme that they could cause problems (which, transformed into conflict, are just what the writer of fiction lives for). Indeed, the idea that a harmless trait, when it is extreme, can cause problems could itself be the theme of a story. This list allows us to flesh out the flat, static character, making him or her round (or at least more nearly round) and possibly even dynamic. It also lets us to mix a few positive, or at least neutral, traits in with one or more negative ones associated with the root characteristic, irresponsibility.

But, wait! There’s more! as the sales folks are wont to say in infomercials.

Our list also shows how a neutral or even a positive trait can edge into something negative and potentially dangerous, even deadly.

Often, we praise impetuosity as a positive trait. We seek someone who is impulsive, rather than sedate, spontaneous instead of predictable, spur-of-the-moment rather than cautious, because, we imagine, such an individual is apt to be more fun. (He or she may turn out to be only more exciting, and not in a pleasurable way.) For example, the impulsive person may be only a few steps away from being an irresponsible person; the spontaneous individual perhaps but a stone’s throw from being reckless; and the spur-of-the-moment man or woman could verge upon being negligent. There’s a story in such proximities, in such deterioration, and a believable one at that. We’re closer to the abyss of negative behavior than we might think, even when such conduct stems from neutral or positive character traits rather than those that are largely or universally regarded as negative. There’s a fine line between miserliness and thriftiness. Were Ebenezer Scrooge to have been merely frugal, rather than stingy, there would have been no ghosts of Christmas past. Similarly, in horror fiction, were characters simply spontaneous, rather than irresponsible, there’d be no I Know What You Did Last Summer, I Still Know What You Did Last Summer, I’ll Always Know What You Did Last Summer, and the host of other horror stories, in print and on film, in which the protagonist is one or more of the following: adolescent, careless, casual, childish, foolish, forgetful, happy-go-lucky, hasty, idiotic, immature, imprudent, impudent, impulsive, inattentive, injudicious, irrational, irresponsible, juvenile, lackadaisical, lax, neglectful, negligent, rash, reckless, remiss, silly, slack, slapdash, sloppy, stupid, thoughtless, uncontrolled, undeveloped, unripe, unwise, wild, young.

Friday, May 2, 2008

Guest Speaker: H. P. Lovecraft: Notes On Writing Weird Fiction


My reason for writing stories is to give myself the satisfaction of visualising more clearly and detailedly and stably the vague, elusive, fragmentary impressions of wonder, beauty, and adventurous expectancy which are conveyed to me by certain sights (scenic, architectural, atmospheric, etc.), ideas, occurrences, and images encountered in art and literature. I choose weird stories because they suit my inclination best--one of my strongest and most persistent wishes being to achieve, momentarily, the illusion of some strange suspension or violation of the galling limitations of time, space, and natural law which forever imprison us and frustrate our curiosity about the infinite cosmic spaces beyond the radius of our sight and analysis. These stories frequently emphasise the element of horror because fear is our deepest and strongest emotion, and the one which best lends itself to the creation of Nature-defying illusions. Horror and the unknown or the strange are always closely connected, so that it is hard to create a convincing picture of shattered natural law or cosmic alienage or "outsideness" without laying stress on the emotion of fear. The reason why time plays a great part in so many of my tales is that this element looms up in my mind as the most profoundly dramatic and grimly terrible thing in the universe. Conflict with time seems to me the most potent and fruitful theme in all human expression.

While my chosen form of story-writing is obviously a special and perhaps a narrow one, it is none the less a persistent and permanent type of expression, as old as literature itself. There will always be a certain small percentage of persons who feel a burning curiosity about unknown outer space, and a burning desire to escape from the prison-house of the known and the real into those enchanted lands of incredible adventure and infinite possibilities which dreams open up to us, and which things like deep woods, fantastic urban towers, and flaming sunsets momentarily suggest. These persons include great authors as well as insignificant amateurs like myself--Dunsany, Poe, Arthur Machen, M. R. James, Algernon Blackwood, and Walter de la Mare being typical masters in this field.

As to how I write a story--there is no one way. Each one of my tales has a different history. Once or twice I have literally written out a dream; but usually I start with a mood or idea or image which I wish to express, and revolve it in my mind until I can think of a good way of embodying it in some chain of dramatic occurrences capable of being recorded in concrete terms. I tend to run through a mental list of the basic conditions or situations best adapted to such a mood or idea or image, and then begin to speculate on logical and naturally motivated explanations of the given mood or idea or image in terms of the basic condition or situation chosen.

The actual process of writing is of course as varied as the choice of theme and initial conception; but if the history of all my tales were analysed, it is just possible that the following set of rules might be deduced from the average procedure:

Prepare a synopsis or scenario of events in the order of their absolute occurrence--not the order of their narration. Describe with enough fulness to cover all vital points and motivate all incidents planned. Details, comments, and estimates of consequences are sometimes desirable in this temporary framework.

Prepare a second synopsis or scenario of events--this one in order of narration (not actual occurrence), with ample fulness and detail, and with notes as to changing perspective, stresses, and climax. Change the original synopsis to fit if such a change will increase the dramatic force or general effectiveness of the story. Interpolate or delete incidents at will--never being bound by the original conception even if the ultimate result be a tale wholly different from that first planned. Let additions and alterations be made whenever suggested by anything in the for mulating process.

Write out the story--rapidly, fluently, and not too critically--following the second or narrative-order synopsis. Change incidents and plot whenever the developing process seems to suggest such change, never being bound by any previous design. If the development suddenly reveals new opportunities for dramatic effect or vivid story telling, add whatever is thought advantageous--going back and reconciling the early parts to the new plan. Insert and delete whole sections if necessary or desirable, trying different beginnings and endings until the best arrangement is found. But be sure that all references throughout the story are thoroughly reconciled with the final design. Remove all possible superfluities--words, sentences, paragraphs, or whole episodes or elements--observing the usual precautions about the reconciling of all references.

Revise the entire text, paying attention to vocabulary, syntax, rhythm of prose, proportioning of parts, niceties of tone, grace and convincingness of transitions (scene to scene, slow and detailed action to rapid and sketchy time-covering action and vice versa... etc., etc., etc.), effectiveness of beginning, ending, climaxes, etc., dramatic suspense and interest, plausibility and atmosphere, and various other elements.

Prepare a neatly typed copy--not hesitating to add final revisory touches where they seem in order.

The first of these stages is often purely a mental one--a set of conditions and happenings being worked out in my head, and never set down until I am ready to prepare a detailed synopsis of events in order of narration. Then, too, I sometimes begin even the actual writing before I know how I shall develop the idea--this beginning forming a problem to be motivated and exploited.

There are, I think, four distinct types of weird story; one expressing a mood or feeling, another expressing a pictorial conception, a third expressing a general situation, condition, legend or intellectual conception, and a fourth explaining a definite tableau or specific dramatic situation or climax. In another way, weird tales may be grouped into two rough categories--those in which the marvel or horror concerns some condition or phenomenon, and those in which it concerns some action of persons in connexion with a bizarre condition or phenomenon.

Each weird story--to speak more particularly of the horror type--seems to involve five definite elements: (a) some basic, underlying horror or abnormality--condition, entity, etc.--, (b) the general effects or bearings of the horror, (c) the mode of manifestation--object embodying the horror and phenomena observed--, (d) the types of fear-reaction pertaining to the horror, and (e) the specific effects of the horror in relation to the given set of conditions.

In writing a weird story I always try very carefully to achieve the right mood and atmosphere, and place the emphasis where it belongs. One cannot, except in immature pulp charlatan-fiction, present an account of impossible, improbable, or inconceivable phenomena as a commonplace narrative of objective acts and conventional emotions. Inconceivable events and conditions have a special handicap to over come, and this can be accomplished only through the maintenance of a careful realism in every phase of the story except that touching on the one given marvel. This marvel must be treated very impressively and deliberately--with a careful emotional "build-up"--else it will seem flat and unconvincing. Being the principal thing in the story, its mere existence should overshadow the characters and events. But the characters and events must be consistent and natural except where they touch the single marvel. In relation to the central wonder, the characters should shew the same overwhelming emotion which similar characters would shew toward such a wonder in real life. Never have a wonder taken for granted. Even when the characters are supposed to be accustomed to the wonder I try to weave an air of awe and impressiveness corresponding to what the reader should feel. A casual style ruins any serious fantasy.

Atmosphere, not action, is the great desideratum of weird fiction. Indeed, all that a wonder story can ever be is a vivid picture of a certain type of human mood. The moment it tries to be anything else it becomes cheap, puerile, and unconvincing. Prime emphasis should be given to subtle suggestion--imperceptible hints and touches of selective associative detail which express shadings of moods and build up a vague illusion of the strange reality of the unreal. Avoid bald catalogues of incredible happenings which can have no substance or meaning apart from a sustaining cloud of colour and symbolism.

These are the rules or standards which I have followed--consciously or unconsciously--ever since I first attempted the serious writing of fantasy. That my results are successful may well be disputed--but I feel at least sure that, had I ignored the considerations mentioned in the last few paragraphs, they would have been much worse than they are.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Fill-in-the-Blanks (Don't panic! It's not a quiz!)

copyright 2007 by Gary L. Pullman

There are many ways to generate a plot idea and to develop it so that the action that flows from the idea follows the format of the traditional story.

A traditional story depicts its main character as wanting to attain a goal for a definite, specific reason. The main character is then pitted against an adversary, the story’s antagonist, who wants to attain the same goal or a conflicting one for a reason of his or her own.

As a result, the main character encounters a series of increasingly more difficult obstacles. At first, all goes either poorly or well. (If the story is a comedy, things go poorly at first; if it’s to be a tragedy, things go well at first.) At the story’s turning point, the main character’s fortune changes for the better or the worse. If things were going poorly to begin with, they improve. If things were going well at the beginning of the story, they begin to deteriorate.

At the end of the story, for a reason that fits the set of circumstances involved, the main character either attains his or her goal or does not do so (or realizes that the goal was not as important as he or she had once supposed). As a result of the experience that the main character has undergone, he or she learns a lesson. The lesson is the theme of the story.

One way to make sure you develop your story along these lines is to use the fill-in-the blank approach. Here’s a template that you can use:


The main character, _________________ _________________, wants to
_________________ because _________________ , but he or she must struggle against _________________ _________________, who wants _________________ because _________________. This story takes place in _________________ (location) in _________________ (time period). To attain his or her goal, _________________ _________________ (the main character) must overcome the following, increasingly more difficult obstacles: _________________, _________________, and _________________ (add more if desired). For the main character, for whom everything goes _________________ (well or poorly) at the beginning of the story, the turning point (climax) occurs when he or she _________________, and then the opposite state of affairs ensues, as things begin to _________________(worsen or improve). At the end of the story, _________________ _________________ (the main character) _________________ (attains or does not attain) his or her goal, because _________________ (reason), learning that _________________ (lesson learned from the experience; the story’s theme) and, as a result, changes by _________________ (how the main character changes).


Now, let’s see how the template would look if it had been used to outline The Wizard of Oz (film version) in which we've added bold font to highlight the key information:

The main character, Dorothy Gale, wants to return to her home in Kansas because she is homesick, but she must struggle against the Wicked Witch of the West, who wants Dorothy‘s ruby slippers because they are magic. This story takes place in Oz (location) in the present day (time period). To attain her goal, Dorothy Gale (the main character) must overcome the following, increasingly more difficult obstacles: escape the fighting trees, survive the deadly poppy field, and seize the Wicked Witch‘s broomstick (add more if desired). For the main character, for whom everything goes poorly (well or poorly) at the beginning of the story, the turning point (climax) occurs when he or she is sent by the Wizard to seize the Wicked Witch‘s broomstick, and then the opposite state of affairs ensues, as things begin to improve (worsen or improve). At the end of the story, Dorothy Gale (the main character) attains (attains or does not attain) his or her goal, because Glinda, the Good Witch, tells Dorothy how to use the ruby slippers to take her home (reason), learning that there‘s no place like home (lesson learned from the experience; the story’s theme) and, as a result, changes by being content with her life on the Kansas farm (how the main character changes).

In future installments, we’ll consider other effective ways to generate plot ideas and develop the story’s action.

Paranormal vs. Supernatural: What’s the Diff?

Copyright 2009 by Gary L. Pullman

Sometimes, in demonstrating how to brainstorm about an essay topic, selecting horror movies, I ask students to name the titles of as many such movies as spring to mind (seldom a difficult feat for them, as the genre remains quite popular among young adults). Then, I ask them to identify the monster, or threat--the antagonist, to use the proper terminology--that appears in each of the films they have named. Again, this is usually a quick and easy task. Finally, I ask them to group the films’ adversaries into one of three possible categories: natural, paranormal, or supernatural. This is where the fun begins.

It’s a simple enough matter, usually, to identify the threats which fall under the “natural” label, especially after I supply my students with the scientific definition of “nature”: everything that exists as either matter or energy (which are, of course, the same thing, in different forms--in other words, the universe itself. The supernatural is anything which falls outside, or is beyond, the universe: God, angels, demons, and the like, if they exist. Mad scientists, mutant cannibals (and just plain cannibals), serial killers, and such are examples of natural threats. So far, so simple.

What about borderline creatures, though? Are vampires, werewolves, and zombies, for example, natural or supernatural? And what about Freddy Krueger? In fact, what does the word “paranormal” mean, anyway? If the universe is nature and anything outside or beyond the universe is supernatural, where does the paranormal fit into the scheme of things?

According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, the word “paranormal,” formed of the prefix “para,” meaning alongside, and “normal,” meaning “conforming to common standards, usual,” was coined in 1920. The American Heritage Dictionary defines “paranormal” to mean “beyond the range of normal experience or scientific explanation.” In other words, the paranormal is not supernatural--it is not outside or beyond the universe; it is natural, but, at the present, at least, inexplicable, which is to say that science cannot yet explain its nature. The same dictionary offers, as examples of paranormal phenomena, telepathy and “a medium’s paranormal powers.”

Wikipedia offers a few other examples of such phenomena or of paranormal sciences, including the percentages of the American population which, according to a Gallup poll, believes in each phenomenon, shown here in parentheses: psychic or spiritual healing (54), extrasensory perception (ESP) (50), ghosts (42), demons (41), extraterrestrials (33), clairvoyance and prophecy (32), communication with the dead (28), astrology (28), witchcraft (26), reincarnation (25), and channeling (15); 36 percent believe in telepathy.

As can be seen from this list, which includes demons, ghosts, and witches along with psychics and extraterrestrials, there is a confusion as to which phenomena and which individuals belong to the paranormal and which belong to the supernatural categories. This confusion, I believe, results from the scientism of our age, which makes it fashionable for people who fancy themselves intelligent and educated to dismiss whatever cannot be explained scientifically or, if such phenomena cannot be entirely rejected, to classify them as as-yet inexplicable natural phenomena. That way, the existence of a supernatural realm need not be admitted or even entertained. Scientists tend to be materialists, believing that the real consists only of the twofold unity of matter and energy, not dualists who believe that there is both the material (matter and energy) and the spiritual, or supernatural. If so, everything that was once regarded as having been supernatural will be regarded (if it cannot be dismissed) as paranormal and, maybe, if and when it is explained by science, as natural. Indeed, Sigmund Freud sought to explain even God as but a natural--and in Freud’s opinion, an obsolete--phenomenon.

Meanwhile, among skeptics, there is an ongoing campaign to eliminate the paranormal by explaining them as products of ignorance, misunderstanding, or deceit. Ridicule is also a tactic that skeptics sometimes employ in this campaign. For example, The Skeptics’ Dictionary contends that the perception of some “events” as being of a paranormal nature may be attributed to “ignorance or magical thinking.” The dictionary is equally suspicious of each individual phenomenon or “paranormal science” as well. Concerning psychics’ alleged ability to discern future events, for example, The Skeptic’s Dictionary quotes Jay Leno (“How come you never see a headline like 'Psychic Wins Lottery'?”), following with a number of similar observations:

Psychics don't rely on psychics to warn them of impending disasters. Psychics don't predict their own deaths or diseases. They go to the dentist like the rest of us. They're as surprised and disturbed as the rest of us when they have to call a plumber or an electrician to fix some defect at home. Their planes are delayed without their being able to anticipate the delays. If they want to know something about Abraham Lincoln, they go to the library; they don't try to talk to Abe's spirit. In short, psychics live by the known laws of nature except when they are playing the psychic game with people.
In An Encyclopedia of Claims, Frauds, and Hoaxes of the Occult and Supernatural, James Randi, a magician who exercises a skeptical attitude toward all things alleged to be paranormal or supernatural, takes issue with the notion of such phenomena as well, often employing the same arguments and rhetorical strategies as The Skeptic’s Dictionary.

In short, the difference between the paranormal and the supernatural lies in whether one is a materialist, believing in only the existence of matter and energy, or a dualist, believing in the existence of both matter and energy and spirit. If one maintains a belief in the reality of the spiritual, he or she will classify such entities as angels, demons, ghosts, gods, vampires, and other threats of a spiritual nature as supernatural, rather than paranormal, phenomena. He or she may also include witches (because, although they are human, they are empowered by the devil, who is himself a supernatural entity) and other natural threats that are energized, so to speak, by a power that transcends nature and is, as such, outside or beyond the universe. Otherwise, one is likely to reject the supernatural as a category altogether, identifying every inexplicable phenomenon as paranormal, whether it is dark matter or a teenage werewolf. Indeed, some scientists dedicate at least part of their time to debunking allegedly paranormal phenomena, explaining what natural conditions or processes may explain them, as the author of The Serpent and the Rainbow explains the creation of zombies by voodoo priests.

Based upon my recent reading of Tzvetan Todorov's The Fantastic: A Structural Approach to the Fantastic, I add the following addendum to this essay.

According to Todorov:

The fantastic. . . lasts only as long as a certain hesitation [in deciding] whether or not what they [the reader and the protagonist] perceive derives from "reality" as it exists in the common opinion. . . . If he [the reader] decides that the laws of reality remain intact and permit an explanation of the phenomena described, we can say that the work belongs to the another genre [than the fantastic]: the uncanny. If, on the contrary, he decides that new laws of nature must be entertained to account for the phenomena, we enter the genre of the marvelous (The Fantastic: A Structural Approach to a Literary Genre, 41).
Todorov further differentiates these two categories by characterizing the uncanny as “the supernatural explained” and the marvelous as “the supernatural accepted” (41-42).

Interestingly, the prejudice against even the possibility of the supernatural’s existence which is implicit in the designation of natural versus paranormal phenomena, which excludes any consideration of the supernatural, suggests that there are no marvelous phenomena; instead, there can be only the uncanny. Consequently, for those who subscribe to this view, the fantastic itself no longer exists in this scheme, for the fantastic depends, as Todorov points out, upon the tension of indecision concerning to which category an incident belongs, the natural or the supernatural. The paranormal is understood, by those who posit it, in lieu of the supernatural, as the natural as yet unexplained.

And now, back to a fate worse than death: grading students’ papers.

My Cup of Blood

Anyone who becomes an aficionado of anything tends, eventually, to develop criteria for elements or features of the person, place, or thing of whom or which he or she has become enamored. Horror fiction--admittedly not everyone’s cuppa blood--is no different (okay, maybe it’s a little different): it, too, appeals to different fans, each for reasons of his or her own. Of course, in general, book reviews, the flyleaves of novels, and movie trailers suggest what many, maybe even most, readers of a particular type of fiction enjoy, but, right here, right now, I’m talking more specifically--one might say, even more eccentrically. In other words, I’m talking what I happen to like, without assuming (assuming makes an “ass” of “u” and “me”) that you also like the same. It’s entirely possible that you will; on the other hand, it’s entirely likely that you won’t.

Anyway, this is what I happen to like in horror fiction:

Small-town settings in which I get to know the townspeople, both the good, the bad, and the ugly. For this reason alone, I’m a sucker for most of Stephen King’s novels. Most of them, from 'Salem's Lot to Under the Dome, are set in small towns that are peopled by the good, the bad, and the ugly. Part of the appeal here, granted, is the sense of community that such settings entail.

Isolated settings, such as caves, desert wastelands, islands, mountaintops, space, swamps, where characters are cut off from civilization and culture and must survive and thrive or die on their own, without assistance, by their wits and other personal resources. Many are the examples of such novels and screenplays, but Alien, The Shining, The Descent, Desperation, and The Island of Dr. Moreau, are some of the ones that come readily to mind.

Total institutions as settings. Camps, hospitals, military installations, nursing homes, prisons, resorts, spaceships, and other worlds unto themselves are examples of such settings, and Sleepaway Camp, Coma, The Green Mile, and Aliens are some of the novels or films that take place in such settings.

Anecdotal scenes--in other words, short scenes that showcase a character--usually, an unusual, even eccentric, character. Both Dean Koontz and the dynamic duo, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, excel at this, so I keep reading their series (although Koontz’s canine companions frequently--indeed, almost always--annoy, as does his relentless optimism).

Atmosphere, mood, and tone. Here, King is king, but so is Bentley Little. In the use of description to terrorize and horrify, both are masters of the craft.

A bit of erotica (okay, okay, sex--are you satisfied?), often of the unusual variety. Sex sells, and, yes, sex whets my reader’s appetite. Bentley Little is the go-to guy for this spicy ingredient, although Koontz has done a bit of seasoning with this spice, too, in such novels as Lightning and Demon Seed (and, some say, Hung).

Believable characters. Stephen King, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, and Dan Simmons are great at creating characters that stick to readers’ ribs.

Innovation. Bram Stoker demonstrates it, especially in his short story “Dracula’s Guest,” as does H. P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, Shirley Jackson, and a host of other, mostly classical, horror novelists and short story writers. For an example, check out my post on Stoker’s story, which is a real stoker, to be sure. Stephen King shows innovation, too, in ‘Salem’s Lot, The Shining, It, and other novels. One might even argue that Dean Koontz’s something-for-everyone, cross-genre writing is innovative; he seems to have been one of the first, if not the first, to pen such tales.

Technique. Check out Frank Peretti’s use of maps and his allusions to the senses in Monster; my post on this very topic is worth a look, if I do say so myself, which, of course, I do. Opening chapters that accomplish a multitude of narrative purposes (not usually all at once, but successively) are attractive, too, and Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child are as good as anyone, and better than many, at this art.

A connective universe--a mythos, if you will, such as both H. P. Lovecraft and Stephen King, and, to a lesser extent, Dean Koontz, Bentley Little, and even Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child have created through the use of recurring settings, characters, themes, and other elements of fiction.

A lack of pretentiousness. Dean Koontz has it, as do Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, Bentley Little, and (to some extent, although he has become condescending and self-indulgent of late, Stephen King); unfortunately, both Dan Simmons and Robert McCammon have become too self-important in their later works, Simmons almost to the point of becoming unreadable. Come on, people, you’re writing about monsters--you should be humble.

Longevity. Writers who have been around for a while usually get better, Stephen King, Dan Simmons, and Robert McCammon excepted.

Pacing. Neither too fast nor too slow. Dean Koontz is good, maybe the best, here, of contemporary horror writers.


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