What Guns and Jet Planes Can Teach About Storytelling

Anton Chekhov once wrote in a letter to a friend, "One must never place a loaded rifle on the stage if it isn't going to go off. It's wrong to make promises you don't mean to keep." This idea became a literary device known as "Chekhov's Gun". Chekhov's Gun has many applications, but for now we're going to focus on the most basic one. Setting the scene. 

I think writing description is a bit like building a jet plane. That may have something to do with the fact that my husband is currently studying for a degree in aeronautical engineering, and I'm writing this while surrounded by books on airplane design, but the comparison is still valid. In both cases you want your final product to be as streamlined as possible. Otherwise the wind will resist the plane's forward movement, and the description will impede the progress of the plot.

But how much description is too much? How do you know when to stop? Chekhov's gun and my husband's airplanes can both give us the key. Include only that which serves a purpose. If the gun is there, you have to fire it. Otherwise don't waste words on it. It will only confuse the reader.

The Hughes H-1 Racer, (above), the fastest plane of its time. Notice how its shape compares to the more common design of the same period (below). All the non-essential pieces have been removed, such as the double wing. 

Your description doesn't have to justify itself right away. You can mention objects that won't become important until further into the story, but the more significant the object is, the more consistent its presence in the story should be. 

In the first chapter of A Little Princess, Sara Crewe's father buys her a doll. This doll, which Sara names Emily, is initially given just as much description as most of the human characters, and thereafter she is mentioned at least once in every chapter. Emily becomes a symbolic constant, a core element of Sara's life. When Sara's father dies, leaving her homeless and penniless, the doll's extravagant wardrobe is sold along with Sara's own clothes, but Sara is allowed to keep Emily herself. Emily becomes Sara's anchor, her last ray of hope in a hopeless situation and a symbol of Sara's own resilience, her refusal to let her loving, generous nature be crushed by her circumstances. 

That only works because the reader has been paying attention to Emily from the very beginning. She is consistently present in the story, and each turn of the plot invests her with another layer of meaning. If she'd only gotten two sentences in the first chapter and then had disappeared until the middle of the story, the symbolism wouldn't be as powerful.

There are many other examples. From the the Sword in the Stone, to Cinderella's slipper, to the One Ring, literature has a long tradition of investing inanimate objects with deep emotional and even philosophical significance. Just remember that simply by drawing attention to the object, you are making the reader a promise. If that object never becomes important, you're breaking your promise. In fiction a cigar is never allowed to be just a cigar.

Stories and Children

In my last post I discussed healthy romantic relationships in writing and in real life. As I write this post, I am holding one of the many wonderful results of such a relationship - a newborn baby. 

Naomi Reuveni made her grand entrance at 3 a.m. on January 24. She is 3 and a half kilograms (about 7 pounds) of absolute perfection, although I might be a little biased.  

The hormones seem to have put me in a very philosophical mood and I wanted to share with you a thought that's been rattling around in my brain. It has to do with the power of words. 

Stephen Sondheim's "Into the Woods" has always been one of my favorite musicals. I first saw it in a community theater when I was a teenager, and it's exploration of the power of stories had a profound effect on my worldview. Last week, as I held my daughter for the first time, the lyrics of the finale popped into my head.   

    

Suddenly, the words took on a new and terrifying meaning. This baby in my arms, this vulnerable little life, was my responsibility. I was entrusted not only with her physical safety, but also with her moral education. It was my job to make sure she grew up to be a good person who respected life and didn't, you know, rob banks and murder people. 

Fortunately my husband was there to rescue me from my moment of existential dread. He reminded me that we had our parents for role models, as evidenced by the fact that neither of us is a bank robber or a serial killer. We weren't expected to figure this parenting thing out all by ourselves. 

But of course, my brain being the strange place it is, the line of thought didn't stop there. I started thinking about the similarities between raising children and writing stories. I know that's a cliche, but it's a true one. Not just because of the emotional investment we put into our writing, but also because of the responsibility we have to our audience. 

I touched on this briefly in my last post, and this definitely won't be the last time you hear me say it. Writers have tremendous power. The power to shape people's opinions and philosophies in much the same way that parents shape their children. Fiction is as much a tool of social change as it is a form of entertainment. Rhetoric can change people's conscious beliefs, but stories get into their subconscious, slowly rewriting their basic code until what was once strange becomes normal.  

I can point to many terrifying examples of people abusing this power. In the 1930s, a German author named Julius Streicher published a children's book which depicted Jews as poisonous mushrooms infecting the world. This book and others like it fueled the campaign of hatred that nearly exterminated an entire race. But this power can also be used for great good. "A Little Princess" by Francis Hodgson Burnett has taught billions of children all over the world that it's not living in a palace that makes you royalty. It's how you treat other people. 

The point is that words are neither good nor evil. They're just a tool. It's up to us to use them responsibly, to tell stories that will make the world a better place for our children.  

So Naomi and I want to know, what stories do you think have changed the world for the better?  

I'm Not Your Damn Love Interest: Writing Healthy Romantic Relationships

I hate the term "love interest". Whether it's applied to a male or a female character, it is shallow and demeaning. It implies that this character is less than human, that his or her existence is defined purely by how well they fulfill the main character's needs and desires. Would you really want to be with someone who treated you like that? Sounds more than a little like slavery, doesn't it? But in fiction it's somehow supposed to come off as sweet and romantic. 

As you can tell, I feel very strongly about this. I believe that writers have tremendous power over how their readers view the world, even on a subconscious level, and we have a responsibility to use that power to promote healthy messages. So I've come up with some tips for writing healthy romances. 

1) Create The Lovers Separately

Eowyn and Faramir only meet in the last hundred pages of the third book, but before that they each play a fundamental role in the defeat of Mordor. 

Don't worry about who's going to end up with whom. Start by creating individual characters, and let them decide who they're going to fall in love with. This not only creates more multi-dimensional characters, it also creates deeper relationships. It can be difficult to relinquish control of your characters' feelings, but your story will be better for it.

2) Imagine a Story About Just One of Them

If the loss of her lover leaves your heroine catatonic until a new love interest shows up, she doesn't really deserve to be called a heroine.

It won't necessarily be a happy story. That's not important. The important question is, would it be interesting? Or would it bore you to death? If the answer is option b, you're in trouble. One or both of your characters is completely defined by the romance. Take that away, and their life is over. If you find yourself in this trap, go back to the drawing board. Give the undeveloped character something more to live for - a career, a family, other friends, a personality. 

3) Show, Don't Tell

 

This is actually a good thing to remember when having relationships as well as writing about them. I met my husband at a party. We talked, we danced, we exchanged phone numbers. But that's not how I fell in love with him. That happened about a month later when my car broke down in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night. I called him, and he came and got me, no questions asked. Poetic declarations of love are very nice, but actions really do speak louder than words. Have your characters express their love for each other in real and meaningful ways. 

Agree? Disagree? Have other suggestions? Leave a comment below.      

Gunpowder Just Like Grandma Used to Make: Turning Your Friends and Relatives Into a Writing Resource

A normal person looking at my browser history or the titles on my library card would probably conclude that I am either a serial killer or a member of some paramilitary demon worship cult. All I can say is:  

 

Everyone knows the old adage about writing, most frequently quoted by non-writers: "Write what you know." This is both technically true and completely idiotic. Yeah, you need to know what you're talking about if you expect people to take you seriously. But why limit yourself to writing about what you already know? Get out there and learn whatever you need to know to tell the story you want to tell, and I don't just mean Google it. Google is a wonderful invention, but I've found that the best writing resource of all is real, live people. I know, I know. The mere mention of those creatures makes most writers go:

  

But I promise this isn't as scary as it sounds. I'm not telling you to go talk to strangers. Think about the people you already talk to on a regular basis. Your friends, your family, your colleagues. They've all had different life experiences than you. Ask them to tell you stories. 

My maternal grandmother's long and colorful life has inspired many of my best stories. She fought in the French underground during World War II and later immigrated to Palestine where she fought in the Israeli War of Independence. Some grandmothers pass on their recipes for chicken soup or chocolate chip cookies. She taught me how to make gunpowder.

People don't need much encouragement to talk about themselves. One simple question will probably get you more information than you could possibly use. And not just information. A person can give you something Google can't - emotional context. They can tell you what it feels like to live in a war zone, to have the threat of death hovering over you every day, to have to calculate your every move because you don't know who might be informing on you to the secret police. That's the stuff that makes your readers keep turning the pages. 

So screw up your courage, cast off the shackles of Google, and go talk to those scary hew-mon bee-ing things.

  

You might be surprised by what you find out about people you thought you knew. 

But before you go, here's a little gift, writer to writer. 

My Grandmother's Gunpowder Recipe

Disclaimer: This is intended for literary uses only. The author takes no responsibility for damage incurred through the real world use or abuse of this information. 

Ingredients: 

3/4 liter saltpeter (also known as sodium nitrate)

1/2 liter powdered wood charcoal

1/8 liter sulfur powder

2 ½ liters alcohol

3/4 liter water

Place the saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal in a heat resistant container. Add 1/4 liter of water and mix until all the components are dissolved. Then add the remaining water. Place the pot on a heat source and stir continuously until small bubbles begin to form. DO NOT LET THE MIXTURE COME TO A BOIL, AND BE SURE IT DOES NOT DRY ON THE SIDES OF THE POT. THIS MAY CAUSE IT TO IGNITE. When it begins to bubble, remove it from the heat source and add the alcohol while stirring vigorously. Let the mixture stand for about 5 minutes. Then strain it through a finely woven cloth. Discard the liquid and squeeze the residue in the cloth until it stops exuding moisture. Cover a dry bucket with abrasive mesh. (A window screen works well, but make sure it isn't rusty as this can affect the purity of the powder.) Place a handful of the damp powder on top and rub until it falls through. When all the powder has been granulated, if any particles still stick together, put the entire batch through the mesh again. Spread the powder in a 1 ½ centimeter layer on a flat, dry surface. Use a radiator to dry it. It should take no more than an hour. The longer the drying period, the less effective the powder will be. As soon as it is dry, remove the radiator. Pack any powder you are not going to use immediately in a watertight container and store it in a cool, dry place. The sooner you use it, the more effective it will be. 

Happy writing!   

With a Slingshot and a Prayer: Writing Underdogs That Rock

Everybody loves an underdog. Whether it's David and Goliath or The Rebel Alliance and the Galactic Empire, it's easy to empathize with a small force fighting on against impossible odds, and it's easy to hate someone who picks on the little guy. So making the hero of your story an underdog is a great start. But it's only a start. Here are some tips for making sure your David doesn't fall flat. 

1) Keep Your Chin Up - Video game designers know that the secret to keeping people interested in the game is balancing boredom and frustration. If the game is too easy, the player gets bored. If the game is too hard, the player gets frustrated and starts to wonder if it's really worth the effort. Writing a non-interactive story is also a balancing act, but between hope and fear. 
Usually it's obvious that the hero is going to win in the end because, well, they're a hero. But if the reader can see exactly how they're going to pull off that stunning victory, there won't be any tension. There has to be a lurking fear that they just might fail. 
But don't go overboard on that end either. Darkness and despair are very in style these days, and too many modern writers forget the hope side of the equation. It's not enough to have a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel. There has to be some light along the way as well. For example, in The Lord of the Rings, there's a lot of darkness, but there are also happy scenes interspersed throughout the story.
The rule of thumb is that every time the hero comes successfully through an ordeal, you should give them one happy scene as a reward. After Frodo survives the Nazgul on Weathertop, he is reunited with Bilbo in Rivendell. After the Fellowship comes through Moria, they get a few days to rest and recuperate in Lothlorien. After Merry and Pippin survive the Battle of Isengarde, they find food and beer and tobacco in the wreckage. And of course, when the hero passes the final ordeal and achieves his stunning victory, he should get several mega-happy scenes.

 

2) Nobody Bets On a Horse With a Broken Leg - Underdogs, by definition, stand alone. Only a loyal few believe that they can win. Everybody else thinks they're brave, noble idiots who are going to get crushed. David's own brothers laughed at him when he said he was going to bring down Goliath. Nobody thought he could do it...until he did.

Kelsier, one of the heroes of Brandon Sanderson's Mistborn, is one of the Skaa, a downtrodden race who have been slaves for as long as anyone can remember.  Kelsier dreams of freedom, but the attitude of the other Skaa is made clear in the first few pages of the story. 

'You're satisfied with this then?' Kelsier asked... 'You're content with this life full of beatings and endless drudgery?'

'At least it's a life...I know what malcontent and rebellion bring. The eye of the Lord Ruler and the ire of the Steel Ministry...Men like you preach change, but I wonder, is this a battle we can really fight?'

 'You're fighting it already, Goodman Mennis. You're just losing horribly.'"

Mennis is not one of the bad guys. He's not on the Lord Ruler's side either. He's just a tired old man who's had a hard life. It takes extraordinary courage to support an underdog. Remember, the characters are in the same boat as the reader. They have no idea how or even if they're going to win. Not everyone has the strength to live with that uncertainty.

3) Some Things Are Worth Fighting For -  So what makes someone fight for a lost cause? Well, the reasons are as diverse as humanity. David wanted to defend the honor of his people and his God. Frodo wanted to protect the Shire. Kelsier wanted to avenge his wife. But at their essence, they're all the same reason. There are some things you just don't give up on, no matter how hopeless it seems. 

The most important thing the reader wants to know about the hero is, what does he care about? What does he love? What is he willing to die for? If the answer is 'nothing', they're probably going to put the book back on the shelf and move on to something more interesting. But if you give them a cause they can root for, they will follow you into the fires of Mordor. 

So to sum up: 

Hope + Fear + Doubt + Love

 =

 

So who's your favorite underdog, real or fictional?