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. Again, with permission, 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/)
Onward then. Cron
writes, “The reader expects a clear, present and escalating force of opposition, with a loudly ticking clock.”
What exactly does that mean? I guess I
thought ALL stories are supposed to have this element – tension that drives the
story from the beginning. And yet, do I always do this? Maybe examining the
first sentences of my most recent publications would help to see if I got this
right or not.
“As readers we
expect a clear, concise idea of what the escalating consequence will be should
the protagonist ultimately fail, and a ticking clock counting down to that consequence.
That’s what stokes the mounting urgency we feel as she struggles to solve the
problem before it’s too late. If we don’t know where it’s going, and what the
obstacles are, we can’t anticipate what might happen next…Is the force of
opposition clear, and can we see where it’s headed? Does it escalate? Can the
reader anticipate what will happen next, why, and what we’re counting down to?”
While she doesn’t
explicitly state this, my guess would be that in a short story, this needs to
start from the very beginning. Say, the first sentence or two…in the first
paragraph at least, I would expect.
Let’s start with my
work-in-progress. At this point, while I know WHERE I’m going, I’m having serious
trouble starting it. [I just realized as I typed the previous sentence that I
have, perhaps WAY too much going on in this story. By an analogy: my wife and I
watched the first season of a British baking competition. One of the challenges
was to bake a layered cake. One of the contestants had so many layers that they
all “mooshed” together to become indistinguishable from one another. Perhaps
that’s what I’ve done to myself here…]
So, the first sentence:
“In the dream, my late wife stretched out next to me wearing a brief, red silk
pajama top. Her eyes said that there was exactly one thing on her mind. Then a
raccoon tossed a popcorn into the air and snapped it up and said to me, ‘Have
you ever seen wild corn?’”
While all of these
elements play into the story as it progresses, I’ve currently got way too many
layers here. Maybe if I narrow the story down to a single one rather than one
that involves the Shabe, the Pak/Gref, the Krrlgrrbitz, a Mynosaur, the Sand,
and Humans…wow. Confusing. I guess I know what I’ll be doing today as it rains…
The first sentence
in my soon-t0-be published short story (ANALOG, November/December 2019): “Larry
Henry was muttering in the Orion Lunar lander mockup when Mission Control
interrupted their regularly scheduled disaster. He was alone today, simulating
the death of the rest of the crew.”
WOW. I love that
first sentence! No wonder the editor bought it.
The next is from a
short story that’s been bounced four times already and is awaiting review at
another publication: “Tiviifei Jones straightened, no longer leaning on his
cane as the gMod platform sank to the ground. The Human Cemetery
and Memorial was still, cool, Earth green, and vast. A final resting place for
ten thousand, four hundred, and eighty-two Weldon colonists slaughtered by
invading aliens.”
Hmmm…I know where
this is going, but the alien first name and the gMod platform. That segues into
the third sentence which DOES imply an escalation. I wonder what Tiviifei is
doing there. Why a cemetery? Why the visit? OK – perhaps it’s OK; on the other
hand, I can see why it may have been bounced.
My most recent
published story (Nebula Tales Issue Four, https://www.amazon.com/Nebula-Tales-Issue-Various-Authors/dp/1688967206):
“Baek Pi Ji-woo stepped from railroad tie to railroad tie, bundled in her
well-worn, quilted Russian jacket, and heavy boots with hard soles. Frigid winds
lashed around her. Pausing, she looked up to the distant, pine wrapped, snow
blown mountains. She could turn off the rail, walk away, to disappear into the
forest. She would tire eventually, lie down, fall asleep in the snow, and never
wake.” (OK, so I’m fudging a bit…these are not all the first sentence…)
Lastly, my most
recent ANALOG story (September/October 2019): “Javier Quinn Xiong Zaman clicked
on the last email in the clinic’s queue and read, ‘Doctor Scrabble, the supply
of Dicraeia warmingii you adjusted has reached abundant proportions
and the female Goliath Bullfrog appears not only ready to drop her eggs but to
deliver an auspicious number, perhaps even enough to assure…’
“From somewhere
overhead, he heard a loud bang and scowled. The nightly stream of maglev trains
started an instant later, bringing scavenged materials from the DEconstruction
And Recycling Robots – DEARRs – to the Minneapolis St Paul Vertical Village.
The ground shook and a faint whine reached him even a kilometer west of the
tracks. Probably something going on with that abomination.”
Hmmm…this isn’t
that great. In fact, the actual story has nothing to do with the bullfrog eggs,
the DEARRs, or even MSP Vertical Village…
Each of the
publications I sent my most recently bounced story to are top of their field.
Currently, the actual first sentences of their current issues:
Clarkesworld (September
2019): “I know what Dave wants even before he says it, before I’ve even taken
off my stupid work cap or thrown my keys on top of the pile of crap beside the
door. He’s taken his head off again…” (Technically not the first sentence, but
there you go.)
The Magazine of
Fantasy and Science Fiction (January 2019): “Abby opened the till and found crumbled
bits of dry leaves in the stacks of five-dollar bills.”
Asimov’s (September/October
2019): “The land slept hard, after months blanketed beneath deep snow. Seeds
nestled in the soil, frozen on the cusp of sprouting, and the earth was riddled
with slumbering creatures strewn cold in their tunnels, the husks of the dead
and of those yet to reawaken.” (Again, not the first sentence.)
OK…there’s no
jargon in those first sentences where there is in mine.
Though, other than
that, they are, none of them, spectacular; though the second sentence of the first
story automatically compels you to read on. The others, not so much (mine included,
except for “Kamsahamnida, America” in the November/December ANALOG…that’s
good.)
So, I didn’t always
follow my own advice, though Lisa Cron doesn’t actually insist that the tension
be right at the beginning. However, “As readers we expect a clear, concise idea
of what the escalating consequence will be should the protagonist ultimately
fail, and a ticking clock counting down to that consequence. That’s what stokes
the mounting urgency we feel as she struggles to solve the problem before it’s
too late. If we don’t know where it’s going, and what the obstacles are, we
can’t anticipate what might happen next…Is the force of opposition clear, and
can we see where it’s headed? Does it escalate? Can the reader anticipate what
will happen next, why, and what we’re counting down to?”
I guess this is a
clear call to me to go back and examine what I’m doing. I AM doing things
right; but I’m not doing things as well as I CAN.
Food for thought
for myself. Food for thought for you? Let me know.
