April 15, 2018

WRITING ADVICE – Lisa Cron #1: Start With A Specific POINT


In 2008, I discovered how little I knew about writing after hearing children’s writer, Lin Oliver speak at a convention hosted by the Minnesota Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators. To learn more – and to satisfy my natural tendency to “teach stuff”, I started a series of essays taking the wisdom of published writers and then applying each “nugget of wisdom” to my own writing. During the six years that followed, I used the advice of a number of published writers (with their permission) and then applied the writing wisdom of Lin Oliver, Jack McDevitt, Nathan Bransford, Mike Duran, Kristine Kathryn Rusch, SL Veihl, Bruce Bethke, and Julie Czerneda to an analysis of my own writing. Together these people write in genres broad and deep, and have acted as agents, editors, publishers, columnists, and teachers. Today I add to that list, Lisa Cron who has worked as a literary agent, TV producer, and story consultant for Warner Brothers, the William Morris Agency, and others. She is a frequent speaker at writers’ conferences, and a story coach for writers, educators, and journalists. I am using her article, “A Reader’s Manifesto: 15 Hardwired Expectations Every Reader Has for Every Story” (2/16/18 http://blog.creativelive.com/essential-storytelling-techniques/) with permission.

So we’ll begin with the first expectation a reader would have when they crack open a copy of ANALOG, or SHORELINE OF INFINITY (where a reprint of my story, “Pigeon” is currently found – https://www.amazon.com/Shoreline-Infinity-Edinburgh-International-Festival/dp/1999700260/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8) or what I’m currently reading for the first time, TO GUARD AGAINST THE DARK, by Julie Czerneda (https://www.amazon.com/Guard-Against-Dark-Reunification/dp/0756412439/ref=tmm_mmp_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1523728822&sr=1-2&dpID=51qOTJTB2ML&preST=_SY344_BO1,204,203,200_QL70_&dpSrc=detail):

As a reader, I’ll expect that the story will start making a very specific point – in the first sentence. Without actually thinking about it, I should wonder what I’m going to learn from it that will help me make it through the night. As the writer, I need to know what my point is before I begin writing. What am I saying about human nature? What inside intel am I giving my reader about how to best navigate this mortal coil?

So I’m going to look at a story I’ve been struggling with for some months now, the title is currently, “Lovely To Behold”.

It began as a response to an invitation given by Julie Czerneda for a collection of original stories that took place in one of the universes she’s created. It was supposed to be fun, exciting, and fill in small holes in the history she’d created.

I wrote a story, sent it off, and it was returned with regrets. Disappointed, I figured I could rewrite it for a universe that I’d created.

I’ve written eleven stories that take place in the skies of a puffy Jupiter-like planet called River. I have maps, societies, alien life forms – though in this universe, there are NO intelligent aliens. Humans have fractured into two societies. The Confluence of Humanity has given totally free reign for genetic manipulation of Humans in order to create them to fit environments and worlds.

The Empire of Man allows limited genetic engineering and bases legal Humanity and inclusion in Human society, on the percentage of deviation from Pure Human DNA – if you are 65% unaltered Human DNA, then you are Human…if you are less, then you are not. Both the Confluence and the Empire have colonized the skies of this giant world, and while there are always conflicts, they co-exist in relative peace.

I’ve written eleven stories in this universe, several through the eyes of a man who is a genetic descendant of Henrietta Lacks, an African American woman whose cancer cells are the source of the HeLa cell line, the first immortalized cell line and one of the most important cell lines in medical research. They were harvested both illegally and without her or her family’s knowledge. He is an eminently cloned body and an important source of DNA for a line of special investigators, soldiers, spies, and covert operatives. Three have been published.

The most recent story begins like this: Even though the Ferris, YAN TIANJIN was supposed to have an all-night arrival and departure depot, at four-thirty am, its lights were still dim.”

If you notice, not only do I NOT make a very specific point, in the first sentence, there is no evidence in this story of a point so far, I haven’t offered anything that will help someone make it through the night. In fact, there’s no story here at all…I have failed this first test.

I have struggled to find out what my point is, though I thought I knew before I started writing. What am I saying about human nature? What inside intel am I giving my reader about how to best navigate this mortal coil?

Thus far, none.

So let me try again.

My point, succinctly: “How much can you lie about yourself and still remain your…self?”

Iggie wants to be a re-educator (those who need or want to change from one occupation to another – including from childhood to adulthood) has ID that will get him out of the two-bit parts store he owns in an out-of-the way, Confluence-controlled cloud Band in the skies of River. With it, he’ll be able to just squeak into a high-stakes university. But in this story, he’s doubting that he has the brain-power to pass the entrance assessment, so he’s trying to buy an illegal nootropic (“smart drugs and cognitive enhancers; drugs, supplements, and other substances that improve cognitive function, particularly executive functions, memory, creativity, or motivation, in healthy individuals.”)

His best friend, whose DNA has been profoundly manipulated, is also a young man who looks like a giant bratwurst with six limbs and has a wicked sense of humor, is opposed to everything false. He thinks Iggie should start low and climb high – going to a Confluan college, then becoming the best student he can be and forcing his way into an Imperial University.

But that first thing doesn’t even get mentioned until later; and even then, not clearly.

Have a succeeded by anyone else’s definition?

How about Charlie Jane Anders at io9?  In her article, “How to writer a killer first sentence for your science fiction story”, she says to start your story one of six ways: scene, conflict, mystery, narration (first or third person), a quote, or a puzzle.

I started with a scene – OK. Why is the story flat and uninteresting?

Conflict? I could move this scene to the beginning:

First Thought)

“You gonna buy something or just stand there drooling on the floor, AJ?” a voice said in Iggie’s ear.

Twisting away from the source and covering the side of his face, Iggie pinched his nostrils and said, “Shut up, Skunk.”

I’d have to do a lot of backtracking, but I COULD do it. Or I could just take off from that point and charge ahead, filling in backstory as I went.

William Gibson wrote: “The first line must convince me that it somehow embodies the entire unwritten text…Once that first line succeeds in selling me on the worthiness of some totality that in no way, at that point, actually exists, I can continue.” (https://www.theatlantic.com/entertainment/archive/2014/10/william-gibson-by-heart/382027/)

Angie Smibert at League of Extraordinary Writers writes, “That line shows the reader a peek at what your story is going to be about.  It’s your chance to set the tone, voice, theme, setting, etc. Is it going to be high fantasy or poetic cyberpunk? Is it set in a world unlike ours? Is it ironic or whimsical? Think of that first line as your opening ‘we’re not in Kansas anymore’ salvo.” (http://leaguewriters.blogspot.com/2011/11/top-10-opening-lines-in-science-fiction.html)

So how about these as new opening lines? (Vote if you’d like!)

One) Simple solution: start with the SECOND sentence:

“He’d started out spying on the airlock, but perched on a cross-brace, Igaluk Abumayaleh-Jawai nodded off. He smiled, dreaming about university in the warm Band of the Nile.”

Two) Technically, this is four sentences, but seems short enough:

“Head down, he realized he’d walked halfway around the Docking Ring before noticing he was at the down-ramp to the Supermarket Level. His target, an information merchant’s shop wasn’t much farther and he started walking faster. His earphone chirped. Tapping it, he said, ‘What?’”

Three) Deeper into the current story (which, after reading portions of it again, I can clearly see is a MESS…):

“OK. Don’t. You don’t need any fancy nootropic to increase your retention of facts and speed up your neural processing to knit an information web,” said the Human-sized sausage with six limbs and six eyestalks.

Four) Even deeper into the story as it stands:

“You’re jealous because I’m Human and you’re not!”
“What?” Even though Agnew’s nose was tiny, he snorted and said, “Last I looked you’re only sixty point three-eight-four percent Pure Human DNA. In Imperial Belts and Bands, you’re no more Human than me.”

Five) I could keep doing this all day, but oddly, doing this exercise has help clarify a few things. Last entry:

“I have a report here,” she tapped the external memory plaque on the side of her head, “That says you were seen in front of PHLECKSIZ PHACTS earlier today.” She stopped, looking at him.

It doesn’t mean anything just sitting there, but it’s an important point in the entire story…

Let me know what you think about the first sentences above. I would appreciate it if you’d judge each one according to the following criteria:

1) Which one makes a specific point? (Cron)
2) Which one makes you wonder what you’re going to learn from it that will help you make it through the night? (Cron)
3) Which one makes you wonder what inside intel about how to best navigate this mortal coil? (Cron)
4) I started my story with a scene, but should I have started it with a conflict, mystery, narration (first or third person), a quote, or a puzzle? (Anders)
5) Did any of those sentences convince you that it somehow embodies the entire story to follow? (Gibson)


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