Page and Stage

Writers who want to incorporate cinematic techniques into their fiction need, first, to translate the latter into their literary equivalents. I use the word “equivalents” loosely, of course, as there is not precise equivalence between the techniques of the soundstage and the page.

So, what are these “equivalents”?

The camera = description. Everything the camera “sees” can be communicated, in writing, only by way of description. The camera has the advantage of showing everything at once, if it chooses, or of focusing exclusively, and in minute detail, on only one person or object, close up, leaving it to the viewer to perceive that which is displayed and to sort for him- or herself those people (actors) or objects included in the scene upon whom or which he or she chooses to concentrate attention. Of course, through a variety of other techniques—camera angle, intensity, contrast, special effects, and so forth—the director, the cinematographer, and others involved in shooting the scene—can direct the viewer's attention and direct the audience's focus, but, ultimately, it is up to those who watch the movie to see what they will. novelists have a different advantage. Unlike filmmakers, they can appeal to the senses of touch, smell, and taste, as well s to the two senses available for moviemakers' exploitation—sight and hearing. Literary authors can also take their readers inside the minds of their characters, describing their thoughts and feelings about the sights, sounds, tactile sensations, tastes, and sounds they experience during a scene. (A word of caution: novelists should be careful not to overuse description. Unless a picture, or word-picture, is central to a scene or some other narrative element, such as theme, it should be spare, rather than florid. Because filming a movie is enormously expensive, screenwriters have learned to make every image and word count, and most directors plan every second of the filming of each scene. Economy is the filmmaker's watchword, as it should be that of the novelist. As Mark Twain advised, writers should be careful to “eschew surplusage.”)

The camera = point of view. In film, the movie is shown from the camera's point of view, whether the perspective is that of an omniscient, a first-person, or a limited third-person “narrator.” In literary fiction, the point of view can be more complex and experimental and can more easily involve the shifting or alternating perspectives of two or more characters.

Actor = character. It's only partly true that the actor = the literary character, because the screenwriter also creates the movie character. The writer puts the words into the characters' mouths, and, through such dialogue, the character's personality becomes apparent, as does his or her attitude, emotions, values, principles, beliefs, and so forth. By interpreting and projecting these words on the page, actors bring these qualities to life on the screen, making these intangibles tangible.

Audio bridge = transition. In cinema, there are more techniques to indicate a transition from one time to another or from one place to another than there in literary fiction. In the latter, space breaks on thee page or a phrase, or a sentence is all a writer can use to indicate such a shift in time or place. Filmmakers, on the other hand, can use an audio bridge, defined, in Filmsite's “Film Terms Glossary,” as “an outgoing sound (either dialogue or sound effects) in one scene that continues over into a new image or shot [that] connects the two shots or scenes.” As an example of an audio bridge, the Filmsite's article cites Apocalypse Now's use of “the sound of helicopter blades are linked to the next scene of the spinning blades of an overhead fan.” Films also use a number of visual transitions to indicate a change in scene, including the “cut, fade, dissolve, and wipe” (“Film terms Glossary”).

Cut – transition. A cut is “an abrupt or sudden change or jump in camera angle, location, placement, or time, from one shot to another” and may be accomplished in numerous ways.

Fade = transition. A fade can also be accomplished in a number of ways:

[A fade is] a transitional device consisting of a gradual change in the intensity of an image or sound, such as from a normally-lit scene to darkness (fade out, fade-to-black) or vice versa, from complete black to full exposure (fade in), or from silence to sound or vice versa; a 'fade in' is often at the beginning of a sequence, and a 'fade out' at the end of a sequence; a cross-fade means fading out from one scene and into another (often with a slight dissolve or interruption) (“Film Terms Glossary).

Dissolve = transition. A dissolve is “the visible image of one shot or scene is gradually replaced, superimposed or blended (by an overlapping fade out or fade in and dissolve) with the image from another shot or scene.” For example, in Metropolis, this technique “dissolves that transform the face of the heroine Maria into the face of an evil robot.” (“Film Terms Glossary”).

Wipe = transition. A wipe occurs when “one shot appears to be "pushed off" or "wiped off" the screen by another shot replacing it and moving across the existing image.”

There are other film techniques that correspond, roughly, with literary techniques, which is not surprising, since filmmakers, limited to sight and sound, have had to devise ways, using these two methods of storytelling to communicate what novelists accomplish through linguistic means. Now that the stage has largely replaced the page as the storytelling medium of choice for the general public, at least, novelists, in telling their tales, might want to adopt, as far as possible, some of the techniques their cinematographic friends have developed. That mean, first of all, thinking in terms of showing, rather than telling. Thinking as a screenwriter, rather than as a novelist, should facilitate this objective. Again, there is no precise match between the techniques of filmmaking and those of writing novels, but these media's approaches to storytelling are close enough to allow an approximation on the part of the novelist. For example, a novelist cannot use an audio bridge (unless, perhaps, in an audiobook). However, he or she can simulate the use of this technique. Here's an example, using the audio bridge in Apocalypse Now (mentioned above):

The helicopter's whirling rotors were louder and much faster than the leisurely turning blades of the softly humming ceiling fan.

By using sights and sound to appeal the senses of vision and hearing, this transitional sentence imitates an audio bridge, indicating a shift in time and place, as the story's scene changes.

Similar approaches can be taken to suggest many of the other cinematographic techniques motion picture crews use to tell—or show—their stories.

Novelists who want to emulate screenwriters should familiarize themselves with the terms associated with moviemaking and adapt them to the process of writing novels to develop their own set of similar approaches to storytelling. Filmsite's “Film Terms Glossary” is a good resource for this purpose. Novelists who seek cinematographers' techniques for characterization, plot development, story structure, narration, setting, and theme and then, with these (and some actual examples from films) in mind, devise their own similar approaches, are likely to write “cinematographic” novels, which show more than tell. General audiences everywhere will thank them.

Note: Read “The Exorcist: A Marriage of Spirit and Matter in the Style of William Peter Blatty,” my post about William Peter Blatty's use of in his novel The Exorcist for a sense of how a novelist (who was also a screenwriter) uses cinematographic techniques to write a compelling “cinematographic” novel. Novelists can also learn to write this hybrid type of story by reading novels by other screenwriters. Stephen J. Cannel's book, TheProstitutes' Ball, is not only a novel, but, in a sense, a how-to book about writing screenplays and novels!

How Buffy Was Written

Copyright 2016 by Gary Pullman

In Dusted: The Unauthorized Guide to Buffythe Vampire Slayer, Buffy writer Jane Espenson explains how the series' team of writers wrote the show's weekly scripts.

First, Espenson says, they'd start with the emotion upon which a particular episode would be built.

Then, they would create a metaphor expressive of this emotion.

Using “A New Man,” an episode that she wrote, Espenson says the team decided that Rupert Giles feels alienated from Buffy and her friends, who are now enrolled at the University of California, Sunnydale, pursuing lives and interests of their own. He feels left out, almost as if he is estranged from them, because, during high school, as the school librarian, he saw them frequently and was more central to their lives. To prepare for this emotional experience, Espenson observes, previous episodes of the series had marginalized Giles.

The writers decided that Giles' transformation into a demon would be the metaphor expressive of his feeling alienated.

After deciding upon the emotion and the metaphor, the show's creator, Joss Whedon, and the writing team determine the “emotional high point,” or cliffhanger, that is to occur at the end, or “break,” of each act, Espenson says. In “The New man,” these incidents occur during the episode's four act breaks:

Act I: Sorcerer Ethan Rayne appears. (It is he who casts the spell that transforms Giles into a demon.)

Act II: Giles is a demon.

Act II: Buffy, believing that demon-Giles has murdered Giles, threatens to slay him.

Act IV: Despite his demonic appearance, Buffy recognizes Giles as she is about to slay him.

Prior to Act I, a brief “teaser” captures viewers' interest in the story to come.

After the emotion, the metaphor, and the act breaks are identified, the writers, working “scene by scene, from the general to the specific,” Espenson explains, break each scene of the episode into beats. (Espenson defines a “beat” as the smallest dramatic moment, which expresses an emotion or presents an action, and, according to her colleague, writer Tracy Forbes, each scene contains from seven to nine beats.)

Then, an outline is constructed.

Finally, with feedback from Whedon, between each draft, the writer responsible for writing the week's episode's script—Espenson, in the case of “A New Man”—writes one or two preliminary drafts, depending upon the time available, before writing the final draft of the script.

Forbes points out that every Buffy episode is built upon three elements: “emotional arc,” “metaphor,” and “monster.”

To sum up, Buffy episodes were written according to this process:

1. The emotion upon which a particular episode would be built was determined.
2. A metaphor expressive of this emotion was created.
3. The “emotional high point,” or cliffhanger, that is to occur at the end, or “break,” of each act was identified.
4. Working “scene by scene, from the general to the specific,” from seven to nine beats are created for each scene.
5. An outline is developed.
6. One or two preliminary drafts are written, with revisions involving feedback from Whedon.
7. A final draft is written.

How "Buffy" Was Written

Copyright 2012 by Gary L. Pullman

In The Watcher’s Guide, Volume 2, the television series’ writer Jane Espenson explains the procedure that she and the other Buffy the Vampire Slayer writers used to develop the show’s scripts.

Before the writers plot the episode, they determine its “emotional arc.” On Buffy, the monsters typically symbolize the emotional states of the show’s characters. In “A New Man,” the episode in which Giles is transformed into a demon by Ethan Rayne, a sorcerer with whom Giles practiced black magic as a youth, the “emotional arc” is alienation: “We talked a lot about alienation,” Espenson says, and, as examples of times when a person may feel alienated, they discussed “what it’s like when your father has a breakdown, what it feels like to be old.”

They also identified Giles’ “concerns” and the source of those concerns, whether the source was “his career” or whether Buffy, who is older and more independent now that she has graduated from high school and attends college, living on campus, loves “him anymore.” In addition, they considered the idea that his girlfriend, Olivia, who had been visiting him from England but had returned there, might decide to break off their relationship and thus might not be “coming back.”

The outcome of their discussion concerning the causes of Giles’ alienation was to decide that “the redemption for Giles comes when Buffy sees him [in his demon form] and recognizes him [as Giles]. And that sort of brings him back. It doesn’t solve all his problems. He’s still not as central to Buffy’s life as he used to be.” Nevertheless, “he knows that she knows him; she saw him; she values him. She was ready to kill the demon, not just in her normal demon-killing way, but with specific revenge in her heart. ‘You killed Giles.’ So we had to have all that before we could even start thinking about what happens in each scene.”

Once the writers have decided upon the episode’s “emotional arc” (alienation”), its cause (Giles’ life seems to be falling apart, especially since Buffy has become more independent), and the resolution of this crisis (he realizes that Buffy does value him), they determine “what happens in each scene.” In doing so, they follow a definite procedure, Espenson points out.

Each episode, she says, is divided into a teaser and four acts. The writing of the script begins by nailing down the “emotional high point” with which each act is to end. The “emotional high point” becomes more climactic at the end of each act. The first “act break” (the end of the act and the beginning of the advertisers’ promotional messages) may be end on a relatively weak “emotional high point,” one that appeals to viewers’ curiosity more than to their emotions per se. The “emotional high point” with which the second act ends, or breaks, is the episode’s climax, or turning point, where things begin to improve or to sour for the protagonist. The third act break identifies the protagonist’s decision with regard to how she plans to resolve the conflict that the earlier acts have set in motion and sets the protagonist or another character in the direction of “ultimate danger.” The fourth act resolves the conflict. Here is the example, complete with explanations, that Espenson offers:

The act breaks is where you start. At the end of each act, which is going to be its emotional high point. You want to make sure the audience comes back after the commercial. . . . At some point [in the discussion of ideas among the writers] Joss [Whedon] will say, “Oh, I’m beginning to see a story here. If this [episode] is about Giles feeling alienated, and we’re going to have Giles turn into a demon, then he should turn into the demon at the end of [act] Two.”

We knew Episode Twelve would have Buffy’s birthday, because it always does, so we knew that was a good way to get Giles feeling alienated early.

At some point Joss just said, “Okay, end of One. Ethan steps out.” He pitched the moment exactly as it appears in the script. He had that whole thing completely in his mind. That was our first-act break.

Second-act break, okay, he’s a demon. Third -act break, Buffy says, “He killed Giles. I’m going to kill him.” So that we have Giles heading for the ultimate danger moment as we head into Act Four.

So it’s the moment in which Joss lays those three moments down, the ends of Acts One, Two, and Three--at that point you’re very close to writing things up on the dry erase board. But not until then. We never start writing anything up there until Joss has decreed the act breaks.

This is The Watcher’s Guide’s summary of the episode; now that Espenson has explained how its “act breaks” are determined in advance, based upon each of the episode’s “emotional arcs,” one can see how the writers gets from point A to point B, and so on, filling in the action between the incident that ends each act. (The book’s authors summarize the action differently than according to its divisions into teaser and acts; here, its sequence has been modified to fit the structure that Espenson indicates is typical of the episode’s construction.)

Teaser

It’s Episode Twelve, and time for Buffy’s birthday party. This time, it’s a surprise party, and Giles is there as the only guest over twenty-five years of age.

Act I

He’s startled to discover that Buffy has a new boyfriend, and stunned when Willow and Xander casually mention that Riley’s in the Initiative, both of them assuming that he already knew. . . since they, Anya, and Spike know. [His being out of the loop concerning what is going on in Buffy’s personal life suggests that Giles is and feels alienated from her.] Add that to Maggie Walsh’s dismissive attitude toward him, and her opinion that Buffy has lacked a strong male role model, and it’s time for a midlife depression for Giles [in which he feels both expendable and emasculated]. Ethan Rayne, a sorcerer who practices Black Majik and worships chaos, is back in town.

Not seen in Sunnydale since [the episode] “Band Candy,” he commiserates with Giles in the Lucky Pint, a Sunnydale watering hole, about feeling old and useless [this part of the scene reinforces Giles’ feeling of alienation]. He also tells Giles that rumors are flying fast and furious about something called “314,” which has demons quaking in their boots [this is an allusion to a situation that will be revealed in a future episode of the show]. [“Okay, end of One: Ethan steps out.”]

Act II

The two become quite drunk together, and in the morning Giles suffers from more than a hangover. Ethan [has] slipped him something that has turned him into a Fyari demon. He’s hideous, with huge, curved horns, and his speech consists of Fyari grunts and growls. When he goes to Xander’s house and tries to tell him what happened, Xander reacts violently and defends himself with pots and pans. Giles escapes, running through Xander’s neighborhood, prompting a 911 call. [“Second-act break, okay, he’s a demon.’]

Act III

While on the run, Giles runs into Spike. It turns out that Spike speaks Fyari, and can, therefore, communicate with him. Spike agrees to help him. . . if Giles will pay. Meanwhile, Buffy, Riley, and the rest of the gang assume that the demon has either kidnapped Giles or killed him--in which case Buffy promises vengeance. She takes from Giles’ desk what she believes to be a silver letter opener; silver is what can kill the Fyari demon. With great glee Giles chases Maggie Walsh down the street--payback to the “fishwife” for her insults. Buffy and Riley go to the magic shop to look for clues. Buffy finds a receipt signed by Ethan Rayne, and with Riley’s help traces Ethan to his crummy motel. Riley tries to tell Buffy that the Initiative will take it from here, but Buffy insists that this is her battle. [“Third -act break, Buffy says, “He killed Giles. I’m going to kill him.”]

Act IV

Together, they go to the motel and discover that Giles (still a demon) is already there, in full demon rage, about to kill the duplicitous sorcerer. Buffy attacks Giles. [”We have Giles heading for the ultimate danger moment as we head into Act Four.”]

Only after she has dealt him a. . . blow [with the silver letter opener, which should kill him] does she recognize him. . . by his eyes. It turns out that the letter opener is made of pewter, not silver. Giles’ life is spared.

After changing Giles back into his human form, Ethan is taken into custody by the military police. When Giles and Buffy talk about what’s happened, he realizes that she loves him like a father and always will. Riley tells Buffy that he likes her strength and her take-charge attitude. Much mutual admiration takes place.

For practice in seeing how the Buffy writers use this approach to write other episodes, one can find both summaries and scripts of each of the show’s episodes at the Internet web site Buffyworld.

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.

Everyday Horrors: Abandoned Houses

copyright 2008 by Gary L. Pullman

When we were boys, my younger brother and I, roaming the neighborhood, or “exploring,” as we preferred to think of such meanderings, came across an abandoned house. Naturally, such an edifice requires investigation. After all, it may well be haunted.

In a way, as it turns out, perhaps it was haunted.

Let me explain.

The lawn--well, really there was no lawn, not in any real sense of the word. Instead, there were clumps of weeds and tall grass. By “tall,” I’m talking waist high--to a man, not a boy. Broken flagstones led toward the rickety, sagging porch, in the middle of which was the entrance door. Some of the windows had been broken out, no doubt by the neighborhood’s idle, adolescent artillerymen’s launching of gravel missiles. Some windows lacked shutters, and some had them. The ones that remained hung at an angle as often as not. What paint remained upon the exterior walls of the two-story clapboard house was peeling worse than a three-day-old sunburn.

With some trepidation, and exchanging glances every other step of the way, we approached the house.

It wouldn’t hurt to take a quick look inside, we assured ourselves. If we saw anything amiss--ghosts, for example--we could always trust to our Keds to save us.

We crossed the creaking porch to the door. It opened easily, without, as far as I recall, a screech or a groan, displaying empty rooms, bare floors, and walls in need of cleaning as much as paint. The floors were littered with shards of glass, torn fragments of yellowed newspapers, and empty bottles and cans. The place was spooky as hell, but, as far as we could tell, it wasn’t haunted.

We’d entered the house at its living room, it seemed, and, after a cursory examination of its littered floor, bare walls, and discolored ceiling, we entered a back hallway up from which ran a flight of stairs guarded by a handrail, some of the were missing, perhaps for a long, long time. The stairs were littered with similar debris--paint peelings and chips, newspaper, and empty containers. We followed the steps up, to the second floor. Its rooms were similar to the living room--bare, dirty, and littered with dust, trash, and discarded bottles and cans. None of the windows had curtains or drapes, and several of the panes of glass had been broken or cracked by stones thrown by boys who found courage more compatible with distance than with actual trespassing.

We’d seen most of the house, and our exploration of the abandoned domicile hadn’t rewarded us with so much as a broken picture frame or a smashed TV set. Still, we might as well see the rest of the place before we took our leave.

Descending the stairs, we opened a door upon a dark, steep set of wooden steps that led into the cool, dark interior of the house’s basement. There was no way we were going down there. We hastily closed the door and moved on.


Rounding a corner, we stepped into the horror of the kitchen.

What was horrific about it was the plate of still-steaming pork and beans, the red-tinged tines of the pitchfork leaning against the wall, beside the table, and the dead dog with the gaping wound in its side lying on the floor near the pitchfork. The steaming beans told us that someone was nearby--maybe the same someone who’d killed the dog. We looked at one another, and, without a word, reached the consensus that we should run for our lives, which we did.

We ran home and informed our mother of the canine death scene we’d left behind, but she wasn’t disposed to believe us, chalking up our story to boyhood imaginations run wild.

To this day, though, my brother and I recall our adventure in the abandoned house, except that, when we recite the adventure, we usually refer to the residence not as an abandoned abode, but as a haunted house.

Abandoned houses are eerie. They’re spooky. They look as if they might be haunted, even if they are not. Having given the matter some thought, I think I know at least one reason that they often appear to be sinister, if not, indeed, haunted. Symbolically, houses represent ourselves. Their material structure represent our bodies, and the various rooms, as a good dream dictionary indicates, are stand-ins for various aspects of our personalities. An abandoned body is a dead body. An abandoned house, as a symbol of the self, suggests that one’s self--one’s spirit or soul--is dead, and if aspects of the soul, as represented by the rooms of the house are bare, soiled, littered, and dilapidated, the corresponding aspects of ourselves are also empty, unclean, and decrepit--perhaps even mad.

An abandoned house is, or can be, a perfect setting for a horror story, because such a place, as a symbol of oneself, allows a writer to peer into the attic (the conscious mind), the basement (the subconscious mind), and any of the floors and rooms between, suggesting, through symbol, metaphor, and other means of figurative and indirect communication, various dreadful states of human and personal existence. In fact, such a place is the setting of one of my own stories, in which the protagonist, an intrepid explorer much like my younger brother and I were in our earlier incarnations who, unfortunately for him, comes to a much worse end than we did, learning too late that, while home may be where the heart is, this organ is better kept inside the chest cavity than upon the mantle piece. Other writers of horror, using the same type of setting, will have different lessons to teach, but, in the fiction of fear, most such instruction is apt to include considerable pain and loss.

Abandoned houses are best left untenanted--and unexplored.

"Abandoned Houses" is one of the posts in Chillers and Thrillers' ongoing series of "Everyday Horrors."