Writing

In Writing About Characters, Are We Neglecting Relationships?

By on November 19, 2018   /   For Writers, Writing  

I’ve been thinking lately about how much craft and practice I’ve devoted to characters—their traits, their goals, and their development arcs—compared with how little I’ve ever pre-planned the relationships that tie these characters together. In my experience, fictional relationships seem always to arise organically from a given configuration of characters, setting, and plot, although there’s no reason to expect that this would always have to be the case.

What would happen, I’ve been wondering, if I created a set of relationships first and built the characters afterward? Could I plan a series of relationship arcs first and most importantly, and then build a plot to bring those relationships about? What would such a story look like if I set aside my character profiles and worked instead from a set of relationship profiles?

One result would be that things get complicated quickly. You can see why by drawing character dots and relationship lines to connect them. Two dots can be connected with one line, representing two people connected by a single relationship. But three lines are required to connect three dots, six lines to connect four dots, and ten lines to connect five dots. A story with even just a dozen characters would contain over sixty relationships among them!

Now, consider that each of these relationships is an entity that evolves and changes over time, and plays off of other relationships in the same way that characters play off of other characters. Friendships are strained. Romances blossom. Family dynamics turn this way and that. And each character is defined by multiple roles in an interactive social web that’s larger than the sum of its parts.

If that’s not enough to make your head spin, think of the null relationships, representing strangers. Every pair of characters who pass on the street will have second- or third-level social connections in common. A character on the bus is connected in some way or another with each of other passengers without even knowing it. But once we’ve mapped those connections, we can develop the scene in a more realistic manner.

Relationships exist at a higher level of abstraction. But I suspect that if a writer were able to work effectively at that level, the payoff would be a more emotionally satisfying story. Some authors may already do that, at least subconsciously. But if this were common practice, writing manuals, workshops, and teachers would focus more heavily on relationships rather than just on characters.

Or maybe a relationship-based story would be unwritable or, worse, unreadable. Maybe the better solution is a hybrid approach that sees in each character the effect of numerous relationships, and develops the more important relationships as characters in their own right, born in a first meeting, growing and maturing over time, and possibly dying through neglect or trauma.

If you write, do you focus primarily on characters or on relationships? If you teach writing, do you encourage your students to develop the relationships between their characters? Let me know in the comments!

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Developing A Scene Within A Chapter

By on September 27, 2018   /   For Writers, Writing  

Scenes are the workhorses of a story. A writer can have one or several scenes in a chapter. Instead of a story goal – to resolve the big problem that defines the whole novel, the point-of-view character creates a scene goal, which will advance his or her cause toward reaching that story goal.

In her book, The Scene Book, Sandra Scofield defines scenes as “those passages in narrative when we slow down and focus on an event in the story so that we are ‘in the moment’ with characters in action. Or we can say that a scene is a segment of story told in detail, the opposite of summarizing.” She further explains that there are four basic elements to a scene:

  1. Every scene has event and emotion.
  2. Every scene has a function.
  3. Every scene has a structure.
  4. Every scene has a pulse.

 

 

JK Rowling describes the four elements of a scene in the first chapter of Harry Potter And the Sorcerer’s Stone.

In a scene, characters do things and feel things. Or in other words, they act and react. Therefore, ever scene has an event and emotion. Rowling has Hagrid appear on his motorcycle with baby Harry when Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore are engaged in a conversation with each other, waiting for his arrival:

“Hagrid,” said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. “At last. And where did you get that motorcycle? (14)”

The scene advances forward as they bend forward over the bundle of blankets on the motorcycle and find baby Harry fast asleep, and they confirm that it is indeed Harry with his scar:

“Is that where —?” whispered Professor McGonagall.

“Yes,” said Dumbledore. “He’ll have that scar forever. (15)”

The dialogues in the scene advance the plot further, and we can state the event and emotion developed in it through the characters’ reactions.

There is a reason a scene needs to be described in detail with dialogue, characters, and setting.  It accomplishes something for the story. It has a function. It changes something. It makes now different from the past.  Rowling describes this by showing how Hagrid wants to say goodbye to the baby, but eventually breaks down and howls like a wounded dog because he finds it hard to let the baby go:

“S-s-sorry,” sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and buying

his face in it. “But I c-c-can’t stand it – Lilly an’ James dead – an’ poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles – (15)”

These elements of the scene reveal something about Harry that he may be special, perhaps making the reader feel more deeply attached to him even if he is just a baby. This also sets up a situation that will be important later in the story.

Ever scene has a structure: a beginning, middle, and end. An alternative way to think of the scene structure is that there is a situation at the beginning, a line of action, and then there is a new situation at the end. Thus a scene establishes the structure in three parts.

JK Rowling does this effectively by setting up Hagrid’s arrival with baby Harry, sharing some of the conversations among Hagrid, Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore, Dumbledore taking the baby from Hagrid,   and finally, leaving Harry at the doorstep of the Dursleys:

“A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them (14).”

Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursley’s house (15).

“Yeah,” said Hagrid in a muffled voice, “I’d best get this bike away. G’night, Professor McGonagall – Professor Dumbledore, sir (16).”

“Good luck, Harry.” Dumbledore murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone (16).

This scene brings us into the story, letting us know what is going on, involves us, and lets us move forward with the plot.

Scofield defines the pulse of a scene as “some vibrancy in the story that makes the scene live in the page and makes it matter to the reader.” Sometimes the pulse is subtle, and sometimes it is highly visible, but it is always present in a scene. It is emotional, an attitude, a state of desire or need.

Rowling describes this by showing that Harry would grow up to be a special child who needs to be protected. Dumbledore trusts Hagrid enough to bring him home safely, and as the scene progresses, and the three of them take extra care to not wake the sleeping baby. At the end of the scene, as Harry Potter rolls over inside his blankets without waking up, people meeting in secret all over the country wish for his safety:

He couldn’t know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in their hushed voices: “To Harry Potter – the boy who lived!(17)”

All the main characters describe their feelings for the child through dialogue. They care for Harry’s well-being. Harry’s safety is the pulse of the scene.

Therefore while creating a scene, writers should make sure that the character with a goal runs into opposition. The opposition creates conflict that builds greater suspense through repeated thwarted efforts, until finally the character succeeds and reaches the goal, or fails. The scene ends with change: a surprise, twist, setback, or disaster relate to the goal.

 

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Judging a Book by its Title

By on August 22, 2018   /   Diversity, For Kids, For Librarians, For Parents, For Teachers, For Writers, Writing  

We’re told (often metaphorically) not to judge a book by its cover. But what about judging a book by its title? One of the most important and anxiety inducing things a writer must do is what some authors call “naming the baby.”

With my most recent novel, I went through seven titles. Six of them contained the word, summer. Because my publisher had a plethora of books with summer in the title that season, several needed to be changed. Lucky for me, my editor and her group got together and brainstormed. They came up with the title The First Last Day, which alluded to the Groundhog Day premise of the story—much better than the titles I had come up with.

Subsequently I’ve been agonizing over the title of a work in progress. This has made me think about titles I love and why I love them. It turns out some of my favorites are inspired by Bible stories, poetry, song lyrics, and other art forms. Not only are these titles catchy and meaningful, but they can also be a way to teach students how to identify allusions in what they read and how to use allusion in their own writing. Below are just a few titles I love that call to mind other works:

 

Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry by Mildred D. Taylor

This novel, which won the 1977 Newbery Medal, is about racism during the Great Depression. The title is directly from the first line of a spiritual sung by slaves. Such songs were often used to inspire rebelliousness. The song is alluded to at the beginning of Chapter 11. It has been written that the thunder referred to in the title is a metaphor for all the hate the Logan family must put up with from whites like the Wallaces, a racist family in town. The second part of the title has been seen as a call to action against the injustices toward African Americans. I can’t think of a more perfect title for this novel.

 

Jacob Have I Loved by Katherine Paterson

The title of this novel, which won the 1981 Newbery Medal, came straight from the Bible and refers to the sibling rivalry of twin brothers Jacob and Esau. The quote reads: “As it is written, Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated.” The allusion to the quote has significance because the novel is about twins Sara Louise and Caroline. Louise, like Esau, is the child who lives in the shadow of the other twin. The novel follows her search for self and how she can find a place in the world apart from her sister.

 

Ivy Aberdeen’s Letter to the World by Ashley Herring Blake

The second half of this title is taken from a poem by Emily Dickinson. The novel is about a girl, who in the wake of a tornado that has destroyed her home, is developing feelings for another girl. The following quote from Dickinson appears in an epigraph and is repeated during a scene in the novel: “This is my letter to the world, that never wrote to me …” The quote has symbolic meaning for the main character who, like Dickinson’s narrator, entrusts an invisible audience with her inner thoughts. At the end of Dickinson’s poem, the speaker asks not to be judged for what she has written. This would seem to have significant meaning for Ivy who is on a journey of self-discovery and wonder.

 

Number the Stars by Lois Lowry

Lowry’s novel about the Holocaust won the 1990 Newbery Medal. The title is from Psalm 147:4 in the Old Testament, which talks about God numbering the stars and naming each one of them. The quote alludes to the fact that if God can count the stars, He can see the persecution of the Jews. Although at one point, Annemarie, who is watching so much suffering, wonders how anyone could number the stars one by one. “There were too many. The sky was too big.”

 

She Loves You (Yeah, Yeah, Yeah) by Ann Hood

Beatles fans will recognize the line from the beginning of the hit song, “She Loves You.” The title is perfect for Hood’s novel about a girl growing up in the sixties during the Vietnam War and the Beatles era. In the novel, the main character, whose social status has diminished, is determined to see the band perform in Boston during its final world tour and to meet her beloved Paul McCartney.

 

 

 

If you have any favorite middle-grade titles that allude to a previous work of art, I’d love to hear about them in the comments section. Also, if you have any great titles kicking around in your brain that you don’t want, send them my way. Just kidding. Sort of.

 

 

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