Joshua P. Simon - The Accidental Author

To see the previous posts in this series on what makes a great story, check out these links:
Openings - Part 1
Openings - Part 2
Description
Characters
Plot
Dialogue and Internal Thought
Prose
Humor
Romance
Politics
Action

In this series of blog posts, I’ve tried to touch on some of the things that I enjoy when reading a story and also what I try to think about when writing one. Hopefully, you’ve gotten something out of it. With that in mind, I’m ready to talk about endings.

Endings are a very tricky thing. Since it’s the last thing someone will read in your story/novel/series, it will probably be the thing that sticks out the most to them. Screw up the ending and you could wipe out the hundreds of pages of awesomeness that preceded it. Here are a few things I’ve learned from writing and reading endings:

1. Don’t Hold Back – This is especially true in the first book of a series. Writers have a tendency to want to save their coolest ideas until the very last book. Well, if you hold back everything, the ending of your first book is going to be a dud and no one will want to continue reading in order to get to those cooler parts you have planned for later. Besides, I’d be surprised if any writer couldn’t think of more cool things to do as the story progresses.
   
   Now, don’t just throw things into an ending if they’re illogical or haven’t been properly set up. That would be just as bad as not having any bang to your ending at all. Bottom line: Learn to objectively look at your ending. If it doesn’t excite you, it won’t excite the reader.


2. Answer the questions asked – If you ask a question or present a conflict to the reader, there needs to be a payoff. If this is the first book in a series, the author doesn’t have to necessarily answer all of questions asked, but there should be some sort of temporary payoff/resolution. Otherwise, the reader may leave the story feeling jaded that you strung them along.


3. Introduce more questions – This is something that makes more sense in the earlier books of a series than in the last book. Wrap up some questions, but why not ask a few more to take their place? Keep the reader interested.


4. Don’t answer all the questions (yes, I know this is a bit contradictory to the above) – I’d argue that you shouldn’t answer all of the questions presented in the first book of a series. Make the reader want to immediately grab the next book.
   
   However, I also think that it’s a good idea to leave some questions unanswered in the last book of a series. The author should definitely answer all the big questions and wrap up major storylines (i.e. the focus of the story). However, leaving a few minor questions unanswered or a few minor characters dangling is a good thing, in my opinion. It allows the reader to use their own imagination when filling in the blanks. Also, it can lead to great discussion with others who have read the same book.


5. Make sure your ending doesn’t take forever – To me a climax shouldn’t last half a book. The payoff should not seem tedious to read.


6. The aftermath needs to end quickly - The ending has happened. The major conflict is resolved. A good wrap up chapter or two is always a great idea and usually necessary. However, the worst thing you can do is drag this part out. End it as soon as you can. Otherwise, people will remember that rather than your awesome climax.

Some of the people who I feel write great endings are Glen Cook, Paul Kearney, Steven Erikson, Brandon Sanderson, Larry Correia, and J.A. Corey.

So, who do you think pulls off a great ending?

To see the previous posts in this series on what makes a great story, check out these links:
Openings - Part 1
Openings - Part 2
Description
Characters
Plot
Dialogue and Internal Thought
Prose
Humor
Romance
Politics

Writing a good action/battle/fight scene can be pretty hard. It seems like the line between too much and too little, too descriptive and not descriptive enough, too violent and not violent enough, etc., is a hard one to balance. Like romance, politics, and many other areas of creating a good story, some authors are stronger with this aspect of writing than others. And like those other areas, just because it may be a weakness for a writer, it shouldn’t be a reason for the author to avoid action all together.

Here a few things I both look for when reading and try to portray when writing action.

• Make it Personal – Whether you’re writing about a general watching a struggle from afar, a soldier on the front lines, a guy jumped in an alley, or a young child running from a Doberman, it needs to be personal. I want to know what that person is going through physically, mentally and emotionally. I want to know what they see, hear, and smell.
• Focus on the characters – At first glance, this may seem redundant to the point above, but it’s not. The above point deals with that moment in time. Within that moment characters still must act as themselves. Everything they experienced before the action scene factors into their behavior during the moment. And the action scene should also affect their behavior/motivations afterward in the story.
• Think about all the senses – It's easy for an author to only write what the character sees or even hears. However, don’t neglect smell or even taste. I have to remind myself of those senses from time to time. The taste of blood or the smell of someone voiding their bowels in fear has a much greater impact on the reader (and character) than just seeing those things.
• Leave the reader wanting more – Like most writers I had a tendency early on to give too many details. I think I've improved on cutting down the unnecessary elements. Details are good, but shouldn't be overdone. Otherwise, the fight can feel mechanical and void of emotion. On a grander scale, if you have the opportunity to tell a fight from multiple POVs, then use it. That gives the battle a greater sense of scope and urgency. Remember, we want the reader to wish we hadn’t stopped so soon, not to get bored or numb to the actual action.

The authors I think handle action the best are as follows (in order):
Paul Kearney – Land or sea, no one does a military battle better than Kearney.
Joe Abercrombie – Excellent at showing the personal stakes involved in any battle. You really get a feel of what each character is going through as the events unfold.
Larry Corriea – Larry is actually the only one on this list who hasn’t released any epic fantasy yet and instead sets his fantastical tales in a modern setting. Be prepared for the best gunfights you’ve ever read in your life.
Steven Erikson – Grand epic battles (sometimes lasting over a hundred pages) using explosives, swords, magic, spears, etc. or a personal duel up close and personal. No matter the setting, Erikson seems to get it right.
Ian Esslemont – He writes in the same world as Erikson and his battles have a similar feel to them.

Who do you feel does a great job of writing action (regardless of genre)?

To see the previous posts in this series on what makes a great story, check out these links:
Openings - Part 1
Openings - Part 2
Description
Characters
Plot
Dialogue and Internal Thought
Prose
Humor
Romance

Politics play a large role in many of the stories I read. In fact, it’s hard to write or read any story, especially a fantasy story, without some political elements involved in the main narrative. Just look at Game of Thrones. The entire series, above all else is based upon various factions fighting for power through war, politics, marriage, etc. and just when you think you know who holds the power, you find out they don’t.

However, politics on the grand scale of Martin’s series doesn’t have to be duplicated in every story in order for it to be effective. When it comes right down to it, a good political subplot is dependent upon the characters themselves and the relationships they have with each other. The group affected can be as large as an empire or as small as a military squad. It can be as impersonal as a school board or as personal as a large family.

Here are a few quick things I believe is important for the political part of any story to work.

1. Make it personal. I need to care about the point of views (POV) involved and if possible the non-POV characters as well. What are their motivations behind their behavior? How did they reach their decisions? What are they concerned about?
2. Try to establish what’s at stake as soon as possible. Why should I care about this subplot? Who stands to gain and how? Who will be hurt and how? Giving the reader this information will help raise the level of tension in the story.
3. Don’t let politics be the complete focus of your story. Like any other story element, a writer needs to find balance. Even if the entire story is centered around politics, like a senate election set in modern times, it is important to throw in a bit of action, suspense, romance, humor, etc. in order to make those political scenes stand out to the reader.

What do you think makes a good political subplot work? Any authors you feel handle this element better than others?

The next installment of my series on What Makes a Great Story is about romance. To see the previous posts in this series, check out these links:
Openings - Part 1
Openings - Part 2
Description
Characters
Plot
Dialogue and Internal Thought
Prose
Humor

Romance is a topic I find difficult to both read and write about. It just isn’t what motivates my interest in a story. However, that doesn’t mean I don’t think romance can be an important element. I just prefer it not to be the main focus of the work. Therefore, it isn’t likely that you’ll see me reading or writing in the romance genre.

Here are a few things that are important for me to enjoy reading about a romantic element.

• Great characters. A good character must make decisions that a “real” person would make under similar circumstances. Therefore, motivations and back story has to be properly conveyed to the reader. Don’t just stick two people together because you want them to be together. Give the reader reasons for doing so.
• Don’t beat me over the head with how much the characters love each other. In other words, I really don’t want to read about people acting like thirteen-year olds—every moment together or apart is the most monumental thing to ever happen in their lives. In a way this goes back to the first point about great characters. To me, a good romance works when you show that characters have other interests than just the significant other.
• A few sappy moments can be a good thing. Though I don’t want to be beaten over the head with cheesiness, a couple of touching moments are great. Even the toughest warrior can care about someone (think of the movie Braveheart and the fact that the love William Wallace has for his wife is what spurns him to start the uprising).
• Conflict. Any story, including romance will be uninteresting unless you give it conflict. The conflict can come internally from the relationship or characters themselves. Or it can be external and come from a big event (like a war or murder) that affects the relationship of the two people.
• Less is more when dealing with the personal emotions of the characters. Don’t overdo the touchy/lovey feelings (especially if told from a male’s POV). They need to be there, but a couple of impactful sentences will say far more than three pages of detail.

What do you think makes a good romance work?

The next installment of my series on What Makes a Great Story is about humor. To see the previous posts in this series, check out these links:
Openings - Part 1
Openings - Part 2
Description
Characters
Plot
Dialogue and Internal Thought
Prose

Humor is a part of most stories whether intentional or not.

Some books like The Princess Bride or The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy are purposefully written with humor as a primary element of the story. For example, here are a few by Douglas McAdams:

“He hoped and prayed that there wasn't an afterlife. Then he realized there was a contradiction involved here and merely hoped that there wasn't an afterlife.”

“For instance, on the planet Earth, man had always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins because he had achieved so much—the wheel, New York, wars and so on—whilst all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having a good time. But conversely, the dolphins had always believed that they were far more intelligent than man—for precisely the same reasons.”

“It is known that there are an infinite number of worlds, simply because there is an infinite amount of space for them to be in. However, not every one of them is inhabited. Therefore, there must be a finite number of inhabited worlds. Any finite number divided by infinity is as near to nothing as makes no odds, so the average population of all the planets in the Universe can be said to be zero. From this it follows that the population of the whole Universe is also zero, and that any people you may meet from time to time are merely the products of a deranged imagination.”

And here are a few from William Goldman.

“Life isn't fair, it's just fairer than death, that's all.”

“I am your Prince and you will marry me," Humperdinck said.
Buttercup whispered, "I am your servant and I refuse."
"I am you Prince and you cannot refuse."
"I am your loyal servant and I just did."
"Refusal means death."
"Kill me then.”

People don't remember me. Really. It's not a paranoid thing; I just have this habit of slipping through memories. It doesn't bother me all that much, except I guess that's a lie; it does. For some reason, I test very high on forgettability.”

However, most fiction generally approaches humor in a much different manner. Similar to romance or action, authors treat humor as another tool when telling their story. The difficult thing about humor is that it must feel natural and not forced. From a writer’s standpoint, the harder you try to make something funny, the less humorous it tends to be.

For me, humor must fit not only the situation, but also the characters involved in the situation. I find adding humor later in a story is generally easier than including it early on since at that point each character’s personality and tendencies has been established. The character and story must be true to itself. A joke shouldn’t sound like it is coming from the author. It should sound like it came from the character. A hard-nosed killer with ice water in his veins better not suddenly tell his friend a fart joke unless you’ve somehow set the character up to work in that way long before he does it.

Some stories may not need humor and that’s fine. The worst thing an author can do is force something that isn’t there. Readers can see through a forced joke just as easily as they can see through an implausible action sequence.

Are there any authors you find handle humor better than others?

The next installment of my series on What Makes a Great Story is about prose. To see the previous posts in this series, check out these links:
Openings - Part 1
Openings - Part 2
Description
Characters
Plot
Dialogue and Internal Thought

Prose is language that is not poetry. Prose is instead defined as writing or speech that is ordinary or matter-of-fact, without embellishment.

An author’s writing style is defined by how an individual uses prose to convey their story to the reader. This style is what makes an author unique and separates themselves from their peers. Some writers spend a great deal of time on style and language. They want their writing to take center stage and many craft prose that has almost a lyrical quality to it. This can be a very time consuming process as one agonizes over every word. In the end, such a method can also backfire on the author since by focusing on language it is easy to lose the emotion and characters of the story. Patrick Rothfuss immediately comes to mind as someone who is able to successfully craft a great story while maintaining a beautiful style with his prose.

Below is a sample of his writing. Notice the easy rhythm of it.

IF THIS STORY IS to be something resembling my book of deeds, we must begin at the beginning. At the heart of who I truly am. To do this, you must remember that before I was anything else, I was one of the Edema Ruh.

Contrary to popular belief, not all traveling performers are of the Ruh. My troupe was not some poor batch of mummers, japing at crossroads for pennies, singing for our suppers. We were court performers, Lord Greyfallow’s Men. Our arrival in most towns was more of an event than the Midwinter Pageantry and Solinade Games rolled together. There were usually at least eight wagons in our troupe and well over two dozen performers: actors and acrobats, musicians and hand magicians, jugglers and jesters: My family.

My father was a better actor and musician than any you have ever seen. My mother had a natural gift for words. They were both beautiful, with dark hair and easy laughter. They were Ruh down to their bones, and that, really, is all that needs to be said.

Save perhaps that my mother was a noble before she was a trouper. She told me my father had lured her away from “a miserable dreary hell” with sweet music and sweeter words. I could only assume she meant Three Crossings, where we went to visit relatives when I was very young. Once.

My parents were never really married, by which I mean they never bothered making their relationship official with any church. I’m not embarrassed by the fact. They considered themselves married and didn’t see much point in announcing it to any government or God. I respect that. In truth, they seemed more content and faithful than many officially married couples I have seen since.

Our patron was Baron Greyfallow, and his name opened many doors that would ordinarily be closed to the Edema Ruh. In return we wore his colors, green and grey, and added to his reputation wherever we went. Once a year we spent two span at his manor, entertaining him and his household.

It was a happy childhood, growing up in the center of an endless fair. My father would read to me from the great monologues during the long wagon rides between towns. Reciting mostly from memory, his voice would roll down the road for a quarter mile. I remember reading along, coming in on the secondary parts. My father would encourage me to try particularly good sections myself, and I learned to love the feel of good words.

My mother and I would make up songs together. Other times my parents would act out romantic dialogues while I followed along in the books. They seemed like games at the time. Little did I know how cunningly I was being taught.

I was a curious child: quick with questions and eager to learn. With acrobats and actors as my teachers, it is little wonder that I never grew to dread lessons as most children do.

The roads were safer in those days, but cautious folk would still travel with our troupe for safety’s sake. They supplemented my education. I learned an eclectic smattering of Commonwealth law from a traveling barrister too drunk or too pompous to realize he was lecturing an eight-year-old. I learned woodcraft from a huntsman named Laclith who traveled with us for nearly a whole season.

I learned the sordid inner workings of the royal court in Modeg from a . . . courtesan. As my father used to say: “Call a jack a jack. Call a spade a spade. But always call a whore a lady. Their lives are hard enough, and it never hurts to be polite.”

Hetera smelled vaguely of cinnamon, and at nine years old I found her fascinating without exactly knowing why. She taught me I should never do anything in private that I didn’t want talked about in public, and cautioned me to not talk in my sleep.

And then there was Abenthy, my first real teacher. He taught me more than all the others set end to end. If not for him, I would never have become the man I am today.

I ask that you not hold it against him. He meant well.

Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind

Steven Erikson is another favorite author of mine who has a pretty unique style. It isn’t as elegant as Rothfuss, but there is something very distinctive about it that I enjoy.

THERE WAS LIGHT, AND THEN THERE WAS HEAT. He knelt, carefully taking each brittle fold in his hands, ensuring that every crease was perfect, that nothing of the baby was exposed to the sun. He drew the hood in until little more than a fist-sized hole was left for her face, her features grey smudges in the darkness, and then he gently picked her up and settled her into the fold of his left arm. There was no hardship in this.

They’d camped near the only tree in any direction, but not under it. The tree was a gamleh tree and the gamlehs were angry with people. In the dusk of the night before, its branches had been thick with fluttering masses of grey leaves, at least until they drew closer. This morning the branches were bare.

Facing west, Rutt stood holding the baby he had named Held. The grasses were colourless. In places they had been scoured away by the dry wind, wind that had then carved the dust out round their roots to expose the pale bulbs so the plants withered and died. After the dust and bulbs had gone, sometimes gravel was left. Other times it was just bedrock, black and gnarled. Elan Plain was losing its hair, but that was something Badalle might say, her green eyes fixed on the words in her head. There was no question she had a gift, but some gifts, Rutt knew, were curses in disguise.

Steven Erikson, Dust of Dreams

Personally, I don’t feel I have the talent to write something similar to either Rothfuss or Erikson. It’s just not who I am as a writer. Then again, few are. Many writers prefer a more straight-up approach to their prose/style. I recently read a quote from legendary science fiction writer, Isaac Asimov, which made a lot of sense to me.

I made up my mind long ago to follow one cardinal rule in all my writing—to be clear. I have given up all thought of writing poetically or symbolically or experimentally, or in any of the other modes that might (if I were good enough) get me a Pulitzer prize. I would write merely clearly and in this way establish a warm relationship between myself and my readers, and the professional critics—Well, they can do whatever they wish.

I think that’s what I strive for in my own writing. To be as clear as possible. Granted, I may have a cool phrase or line in there (by accident probably). However, the goal of my writing is not to showcase language. I’m just not the person to do that.

Now, just because an author doesn’t write a beautiful piece of prose doesn’t mean they can’t knock you out with their style. Here are two great examples that to me, fall in the latter group.

Captain Lasmark thrashed through the barley at something between a brisk walk and a jog, the ninth company of the Rostod Regiment following him as best they could, dispatched towards Osrung with the ill-defined order to “get at the enemy!” still ringing in their ears.

The enemy were before them now, alright. Lasmark could see scaling ladders against the mossy logs of the town’s fence. He could see missiles flitting up and down. He could see standards flapping in the wind, a ragged black one over all the rest, the standard of Black Dow himself, the Northern scouts had said. That was when General Jalenhorm had given the order to advance, and made it abundantly clear nothing would change his mind.

Lasmark turned, hoping he wouldn’t trip and catch a mouthful of barley, and urged his men forward with what he hoped was a soldierly jerk of his hand.

Joe Abercrombie, The Heroes

By the sea, Rictus had been born, and now it was by the sea that he would die.

He had thrown away his shield and sat on a tussock of yellow marram grass, with the cold grey sand between his toes and a blinding white lace of foam from the incoming tide blazing bright as snow in his eyes.

If he lifted his head there was real snow to be seen also, on the shoulders of Mount Panjaeos to the west. Eternal snow, in whose drifts the god Gaenion had his forge, and had hammered out the hearts of stars.

As good a place as any to make an end.

He felt the blood ooze from his side, a slow promise, a sneer. It made him smile. I know that, he thought. I know these things. The point has been made. A spearhead from Gan Burian has made it.

He still had his sword, such as it was, a cheap, soft-iron bargain he’d picked up more out of a sense of decorum than anything else. Like all men, he knew his real weapon was the spear. The sword was for defeat, for the black end when one could no longer deny it.

And he still had a spear. Eight feet tall, the old, dark wood of the shaft scored now with new scars of white. It had been his father’s.

My father. Whose home, whose life I have now thrown onto the scales.

Paul Kearney, The Ten Thousand

Here’s a quick excerpt from my own writing in comparison to the above:

A deafening silence filled the inner courtyard. Massacred bodies with faces frozen in fear and despair covered the space once home to beautiful gardens. Nothing stirred except for the five High Mages fanning out amongst the motionless forms, each searching for a sign of life. The smell of burnt flesh enveloped Amcaro and worked its way into his nostrils and robes. More than two dozen royal guards lay dead, joined by half as many servants—charred husks against the white stone floor.

Standing amid the devastation, Amcaro’s mouth hung open in disbelief. “One Above, how did this happen?” he whispered.

After feeling the immense wave of sorcery, he and the only other mages powerful enough to teleport had arrived from afar. He wanted to help search for survivors but he couldn’t turn his attention away from the woman before him. Her beautiful face unrecognizable, her body blackened, there was no denying that the dark red remnants of her robes belonged to one of their order, a High Mage. She was one of only seven in Cadonia. Amcaro felt his gut tighten at the realization that his former pupil, Fei, was dead.

Joshua P. Simon, Rise and Fall

In closing, regardless of your style or prose, the most important thing to me when telling your story is being able to convey your story to the reader in such a way that they want to come back for more.

Whose style/prose do you enjoy? Why?

Picking back up on my series on What Makes a Great Story with a discussion about dialogue and internal thought. To see the previous posts in this series, check out these links:
Openings - Part 1
Openings - Part 2
Description
Characters
Plot

Dialogue
Dialogue is one of those parts of storytelling that when done right you almost don’t notice it. But when it’s done wrong it stands out like the proverbial poop in the cereal…you can’t eat around it and you can’t ignore it.

There are several mistakes in dialogue that I‘ve noticed in most stories. Generally, the dialogue isn’t natural, because it reads like the author’s prose. Just because you can write a beautiful piece of lyrical description, doesn’t mean your dialogue should be written the same way. Dialogue should be written in a conversational tone. That means that not all of your sentences should be perfectly formed/structured. Here’s an example of what I mean:

Option 1:

“So Bill, what did you do yesterday?”

"Well, John, I took a long drive in my 1995 red Porsche. I had the windows down and the cool air felt great as it blew through my hair. The smell of spring filled my nostrils as I made my way through the countryside. The road meandered around the twisting hills located 30 miles outside of town. Birds soared overhead and squirrels jumped from branch to branch on the trees bordering the highway. I found myself reflecting on the majesty that is nature.”

Option 2:

“So, what did you do yesterday?” asked John.

“I took the Porsche out for a bit and took a drive through country,” said Bill.

“Man, that must have been nice. I love spring”

“Oh, it was great. You should come with me next time. There’s this cool spot about 30 miles outside of town. It’s like being in a completely different world the way the animals behave.”

“You’re on.”

I’m hoping that most people see that the second option is a much better way to structure the dialogue between your characters. First, I removed the names of the individuals from the actual dialogue. Using someone’s name in conversation is ok but RARELY does anyone ever do that in real life (usually only in groups or when trying to grab someone’s attention). Second, let’s assume all that information in option one is somehow necessary to the story. Rather than just dump it all on the reader as the first option does, the second option gets all the basic elements across much better and is done through two characters actually interacting with each other rather than Bill just dominating the conversation. And though I included more conversation from John, I conveyed all the information in 17 fewer words while giving a bit of personality to the two individuals. Also, I feel like the tone is more natural than before.

One of the last things I do when editing a story, especially on dialogue is read it out loud. If you trip over your words, pause where you weren’t supposed to or just wince because it doesn’t sound right, then fix it. For some reason, you will always catch more mistakes when doing this.

By the way, I’m not saying option 2 above is perfect, but it more closely resembles something that you would hear in the real world.

Now, some will make the argument that when writing fantasy or a period piece, you need to write the dialog to more accurately reflect the time. And I agree with that statement to a certain point. You will mostly need to alter the words used when dealing with different cultures or levels of education between your characters.

However, the same rules apply. I don’t care if you’re writing about kings and knights, Roman soldiers, a prostitute during the American Revolution, an elf on a fishing boat, or a caveman. In all those instances, they would still have a natural/normal conversation with those they were with.

And for a little self-promotion, here is a bit of dialogue between a couple of my characters (Jonrell and Kroke) in the third chapter of Rise and Fall (you can read the first three chapters here).

“Where are Cassus and Krytien? They should be here by now.”

“You got me, Boss,” said Kroke, again cleaning his nails.

“We’ll give them ten more minutes and then we head out. They can catch up later.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Is that really necessary?”

“Is what necessary?”

“That,” said Jonrell pointing at the dagger. “How can they be dirty if you’re constantly cleaning them?”

“They aren’t. Just habit I guess. Like the way a blade feels in my hand is all.” Kroke sheathed the knife and looked up. “Don’t sweat it, Boss. They’ll be here.”

Jonrell sighed. They better.
“See, that’s them coming out the camp now,” said Kroke with a nod. He pulled out a different knife, picking at the nails on his other hand.

Jonrell shook his head and turned toward the encampment. He squinted and saw some movement but couldn’t make out more than a few shapes in the night. The distance was too great. “How can you tell it’s them?”

“I can’t.” Kroke shrugged his shoulders. “Just trying to be positive is all.”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that.”

“Thanks.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

Internal Thought:
Internal thought is similar to dialogue and therefore needs be just as natural. The only difference is that the conversation is one-sided (unless the character is crazy). Internal thought can be a bit trickier since it is much easier for the writer to allow his own voice to creep into the character’s thoughts than when writing dialogue (I know I’ve done this a few times myself).

One of the best uses of internal thought I’ve seen is from Joe Abercrombie. His character, Glokta, uses it quite frequently. Here is a good example of internal thought done right.

As soon as the gag was off the assassin started screaming at them in Styrian, spitting and cursing, struggling pointlessly at his chains. Glokta didn’t understand a word of it. But I think I catch the meaning, more or less. Something very offensive indeed, I imagine. Something about our mothers, and so on. But I am not easily offended. He was a tough looking sort, face pockmarked with acne scars, nose broken more than once and bent out of shape. How disappointing. I was hoping the Mercers might have gone up-market on this occasion at least, but that’s merchants for you. Always looking for a bargain.

So, who do you think is great at writing dialogue?

Today I will be continuing my series on What Makes a Great Story. Check out the last four installments below:
Openings - Part 1
Openings - Part 2
Description
Characters

"Plot" is a literary term defined as a series of events that make up a story, particularly as they relate to one another in a pattern, in a sequence, through cause and effect, or by coincidence. According to Aristotle, a plot must have a beginning, middle, and end, and the events of the plot must causally relate to one another as being either necessary or probable. From an author’s standpoint, you want those events to accomplish some sort of emotional affect on your readers.

Plotting is something that’s hard for me to explain as there isn’t any secret way to do it. I think the key thing to remember is that plotting must (not should) be logical. In my mind, you want to avoid the dreaded deux ex machina which means a problem is suddenly solved with the contrived and unexpected intervention of some new event, character, ability, or object.

An example of deux ex machina is when Superman flies around the earth and turns back time in order to save Lois Lane at the end of the first Superman movie. One, the character has never had those sort of powers in the comics and two, even within the movie itself, there wasn’t any information that alluded to the character having those powers for the purpose of the story. In this case, the plot device actually raises more questions than answers. “Well why doesn’t he always turn back time?” “So, is Lois more important than the other thousands of people he didn’t save?”

Keeping that example in mind, an author must do a good job of following his own set of rules. Here’s an example. Let’s say you establish a character who is an intelligent person that plans and analyzes life in detail, always aware of his surroundings (e.g., Batman). Poor plotting would have Batman not notice a crucial piece of information that your entire audience can see a mile away. A writer needs to provide a solid reason why Batman didn’t notice the woman in disguise was really the Riddler. Was he drugged? In the middle of a fight? Despondent due to another Robin dying?

The reason I’m using characters as examples in a post about plotting is because the thoughts, motivations, and actions of your characters are what drive a plot. Let’s look at George RR Martin’s series, A Song of Ice and Fire. His plot has to be one of the more complicated I’ve ever read. With a cast of thousands, people are making decisions all the time that not only affect the people around them but also the people hundreds of miles away. All of these little decisions are your subplots which then need to tie back to your much larger general plot. Regardless of the mind-numbing plots and threads the series has, when you get down to it, the characters are what determine the next course of events.

Therefore, a great plot in any story is dependent on consistent characters who act according to the personality that has previously been established. Now, a character can change, but there needs to be a believable reason for doing so.

Within the plot discussion, there are two other smaller points I want to bring up. Going back to deux ex machina for a moment, the thing to remember is that any problem with an ‘improbable’ event can be resolved through the proper use of foreshadowing. I’ve heard some people mention that if you foreshadow something 3 times before it occurs, then you’ve properly prepared the reader for the event. Great storytellers are deft at dropping these clues without you ever knowing they did so. They place hints in casual conversation, subtle body movements, or even description.

The other thing to remember about plot is pacing. Even the best idea, and the best characters, coupled with a great plot twist at the end will suffer if your pacing is off. You want your reader to stay engaged so things need to happen. I’m not saying things should just be non-stop start to finish, though for certain genres that would work. But in a longer story, you want ups and downs. Those lulls allow the reader to better appreciate the highs. Just don’t wait too long without another high lest you lose the reader’s interest.

Everything mentioned above can be covered in one small sentence. Great storytellers tell great stories by using logic and common sense and following their own rules as they tell it.

What authors do you feel are masters of plotting?

Over the last several weeks, I've been looking at "What Makes a Great Story?" The first post in this series examined the importance of the first sentence or paragraph. The second post delved into hooking a reader by having a strong first chapter. Last week, in the third installment of the series, I looked into how an author's description defines a story's setting.

Today's post will consider the importance of a story's character(s).

I don’t care how many twists and turns you have in a story or how vivid your description is, without strong characters you’ve got nothing.

All stories are about people, even if you don’t realize it. Ask someone what their favorite movie or book is and I guarantee the character(s) play a large part in their opinion. No one says they like George RR Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire series because they like his ability to describe food and clothing. What makes the series so memorable are the characters. And the more relatable your characters, the better story will be.

Oddly enough, a perfect character is the worst thing you can have. Weaknesses, imperfections, quirks, and vices humanize a character and give us someone we can relate to. The reason why everyone cheers for the underdog is because at some point in our lives we’ve felt something similar. We can better understand someone as we watch them cope with problems involving love, family, work, honor, success, failure, past mistakes, future worries, and dragons because we’ve all been there. Well, maybe not the dragons part, but you get the idea.

It’s even possible to watch a despicable person make terrible decisions and still sympathize with them on some level if we understand their motives and feel their pain.

In fact, the more flawed a character is, the more we tend to love them. Staying with the George RR Martin theme from above, Jaime Lannister is a great example of this. Everyone hates the guy in the first couple of books, but then we see the story from his point of view. And we feel the same things that he feels while in some cases, watching him suffer. After some time, he becomes one of the best characters of the series (definitely one of my favorites). The transformation is handled so well that many authors call it “pulling a Jaime Lannister” when they try to duplicate the character’s growth in their own works.

One of the hardest things in storytelling is showing this development in character. The last thing you want your character to do is abruptly change. You can’t have the character pull a 180 from one chapter to the next. That’s not the way life works. Just use your own life as an example. Everyone has gone through pivotal moments that, looking back, helped define the person they are now. How long did it take for those events to fully change who you are? I’m willing to bet months and years (with several setbacks along the way), not hours or days.

A good book will show the character change little by little, evolving their personality from one thing to sometimes something completely different. The best writers out there can do this so deftly that the reader often doesn’t even notice it until they stop and remember where the story started. Writers such as Martin, Cook, Kearney, and Abercrombie are all capable of doing this within the fantasy genre.

Strong characters will help mask a minor plot hole, weak description, or, in some cases, even poor grammar. But a great plot, great description and perfect grammar will do little to strengthen a weak character.

Who is your favorite character and what do you like about him/her?