Category: writing

Examining a Scene

Posted on by Katie Ganshert

I opened up As High as the Heavens the other day. It was my first book. Man, did I love this book. I poured my heart into it. It has some chunks of great writing. Even some three-dimensional characters who experience some pretty gripping stuff.

But….

It’s not publishable.

Here’s why.

I wrote that novel before I had any idea that stories have structure. I wrote it before I had any idea that scenes are the skeleton holding that structure together.

According to Debra Dixon, a scene is:
Action. A scene happens. It is not a lengthy explanation of what happened or what will happen. Or even a big stretch of internal dialogue. It’s not wonderfully evocative description or exposition or backstory.

According to Jack Bickham, a scene is:
A segment of story action, written moment-by-moment, without any summary, presented onstage in the story “now”.

According to Dwight Swain, a scene is:
A unit of conflict, or struggle, lived through the character and the reader.

Dwight doesn’t say that the scene is lived through just the character, but the reader too. Which means the writer must find a way to make the reader experience the same feelings of conflict. The only way to do this is to bring the scene to life. And the only way to do that is to make the scene immediate and urgent. Most importantly, make sure something is happening.

What I noticed, while skimming over that first beloved novel of mine, is that I didn’t do this. I didn’t bring my scenes to life. I often plunked my scenes in the midst of exposition…telling the reader what happened already, instead of giving them a front seat and letting them experience it themselves. Without knowing it, I distanced the reader. In my mind, all this great stuff was happening…but I didn’t bring that to life for my reader. Instead of letting them watch the movie, I sat them down and explained what the movie was about, or what the characters were about.

So how do we avoid this? How do we make a scene come to life?

We give our character a goal, a motivation for that goal, and a conflict – something that gets in the way of the goal. Each scene should move your novel forward and it should contain at least one of the following elements (from Goal, Motivation, and Conflict, by Debra Dixon):

1. Move the character toward their ultimate goal

2. Provide an experience for the character that changes their goal

3. Provide an experience for the character that strengthens their motivation

4. Bring the character into conflict with opposing forces (I think this should be in every scene, but that’s just me)

So what about you? How are your scenes holding up?

Consider asking yourself these questions:
– Is the majority of my novel told via scenes?

– What’s the purpose of this scene? (if there’s not a strong answer to this, then that’s your sign to cut it or give it one)

– Does this scene move my story forward?

For more on this topic, see posts on goal, motivation, and conflict here, or posts on story structure here.

Questions to Ponder: What have you learned about the craft of writing that’s really taken your writing to the next level? How do you feel about story structure? Do you embrace it or resist it? I’d love to “hear” your thoughts.removetweetmeme

One Level at a Time

Posted on by Katie Ganshert

As a writer, it’s very easy to get overwhelmed. We meet all these people online, or maybe even at a writer’s conference, and we realize there is this huge mass of bodies chasing after the same dream.It’s so easy to look at those around us and start to feel heavy, or maybe even hopeless. It’s so easy to start wondering, “How can this ever happen for me, when a million other people are all in the same boat, waiting for the same chance to jump on the overcrowded shore?”

I think we can all safely raise our hands and admit, that yes, similar thoughts have crossed our mind. No matter what stage we’re at on this writing journey, it’s difficult not to compare. It’s easy to read an amazing book and think, “I’ll never be able to do that.” Or to read all these wonderful blogs and think, “How will I ever make it when all these other awesome writers want the same thing?” After all, the space is limited. It’s not like everybody who aspires to write a novel will get published. Heck, it’s not like everybody who’s actually written a novel, or multiple novels, will get published. Even having an agent is no guarantee.

So how do we deal when the giant mass overwhelms us?

In his book, The Art of War for Writers, James Scott Bell offers some of the best advice I’ve ever seen.

He invented a pyramid. It goes like this:

At the bottom level, the one with the most room, is The Wanna Be. We’ve all run into these people. These are the people who say, “I’ve always wanted to write a book” or “I have this great story inside of me.” We all start here. After all, we wouldn’t write a book if we didn’t think we could, or if we didn’t want to.

One level above that, with a little less space, is for those who are learning. These are people who don’t stop at wanna be. These are people who read craft books, agent/editor blogs, go to conferences, and are actually attempting to write this novel they say they want to write.

One level above that, with even less space, is for those who’ve finished a novel. For these people, writing is no longer lip service. They’ve actually put in the work and have pages to prove it.

Above that, with even less space, are those who’ve completed multiple novels. People who haven’t just put in the work once, but have committed to doing it again. And again. And again.

Above that, smaller still, are those who haven’t just written novels, but have gotten them publishedand have actually gotten paid for it.

And above that, at the very top, are those who are multi-published.

The higher the level, the smaller the space. Not because there’s less room and only the really cool people are allowed in, but because the higher you go, the more work that’s involved.

So what’s the point of the pyramid?

First, it shows that we all start at the bottom.Nicholas Sparks, JK Rowling, your critique partner, your mentor, your blogging friends…all of us have started at the bottom. There are lots of people at the bottom. Because, let’s face it, being at the bottom of the pyramid is easy. Any Joe Shmoe off the street can say they want to write a book. Wanne Be’s are everywhere. It takes grit, hard work, and perseverance to step up to the next level.

Second, the pyramid helps us focus on one level at a time.We all start at the bottom, and we all move up one level at a time. Sure, some might move faster through the pyramid than others, but nobody skips a level. It’s a lot less overwhelming for me when I stop staring at the top of the pyramid. It’s a lot less overwhelming when I stop trying to figure out where everybody else is on the pyramid. Everything becomes a lot simpler when I step back and say, “Okay Katie, where are you, and what can you do to get to the next level?”

Questions to Ponder: So where are you on the pyramid? What steps can you take to move up to the next level? What do you do when you start to feel overwhelmed by the giant mass?

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Writing with Voice

Posted on by Katie Ganshert

We talk about voice a lot as writers. Editors and agents exalt its importance. But what is it, exactly? And how do we find it? For the first two years of my writing journey, I revered voice. I extoled it as the Holy Spirit of writing. This mysterious entity that dwelled inside me. This shapeless, formless thing that would emerge effortlessly as soon as I figured out how to surrender to its power.

I read stuff about voice. It all amounted to something like: To find your writing voice, you must write. Write and write and write. Don’t sensor yourself. Don’t edit. Just write. Pretty soon your natural voice will emerge.

Desperate to find my voice, I tried it. More than once. And each time, I ended up with this mass of….well….word vomit. I would blink at the words on my monitor and worry. Worry that maybe I didn’t have a voice. Or worse, maybe the rambling word vomit was my voice.

Yet, I’ve been told I have a strong voice. I’ve been told my voice is fresh, even captivating. And not from my mother either, but from objective readers. Professionals in the industry. So how can this be? If voice is this natural, inherent thing, and my natural, inherent inclination is to produce humdrum writing, how then, can I possibly have a strong voice?

Here’s my opinion on the matter:
Voice is anything but natural. Anything but inherent. It’s not this magical component of writing that I’ll find if only I write enough. I could write all day and continually produce rambling messes of wasted computer space.

Writing fresh, finding my voice…it’s hard. And time consuming. It doesn’t magically flow from my fingertips as I peck away at my keys. Read my first drafts and you’ll know what I’m talking about. My first drafts are filled with cliches, passive verbs, boring, unoriginal descriptions. This voice readers have praised, this voice readers have commended as strong….it doesn’t come effortlessly. It doesn’t come naturally. It doesn’t come at all. I have to chase it. I have to pull out the pliers and dig so deep into the recesses of my mind that my cognitive fingers come out cramped and slimy. Chasing after my voice, finding a fresh way to write, is exhausting. Even painful.

But oh so worth it.

Take heart when you read something filled with voice. Remember that it probably didn’t just come out that way. Especially not the first time around. It probably took a lot of hard work. Because usually, the writing that’s easiest to read, is the writing that was hardest to write.

Questions to Ponder: What are your thoughts on Voice? Do you agree or disagree with my take on this mysterious component of writing?removetweetmeme