Word by Word

Practical insights for writers from Jessica P Morrell

Avoiding the Perils of Expositional Dialogue

Written By: Jessica Morrell - Sep• 24•14

Jack Nicolson courtroom speech     There comes a time in many stories when a character must deliver needed information via dialogue. It’s called expositional dialogue—a conversation with a whole lot of facts or explaining going on. It provides the back story and details necessary to understand for the story. Trouble is, after not too long these dialogue exchanges can easily become tedious and bog down your story. Especially if the conversation, speech, sermon, or testimony goes on for pages or the scene is solely based on delivering these facts.

So what’s a writer to do? Here are some solutions:

  • Tuck the information into scenes laced with  heavy conflict, especially with high stakes. Courtroom scenes typically contain expositional dialogue, but the stakes are sky high and jurors need to learn what they don’t know.
  • Add tension—perhaps the characters are afraid of being overheard or it’s improper for them to be meeting.
  • Try summarizing some of the information instead of only using direct dialogue.
  • If possible the character delivering the facts should be fascinating, funny, brilliant,mysterious, or somehow loaded with personality—and keep it lively whenever possible.
  • Tighten it to the bone. Not a single unnecessary word.
  • Set it up—readers need to experience the need to know before the exposition happens.
  • Feature the protagonist tracking down the information or somehow being proactive.
  • As one character is listening to the dialogue he or she doesn’t need to simply sit there. He/she needs to actively participate—become agitated, struggle to control emotions, ask difficult questions, etc.
  • Another trick is to have a necessary object or situation or fall apart and exposition is used as the object/situation is fixed.
  • Figure out when readers need to be kept in the dark and give out information on a need-to-know basis, especially in Act 1
  • Never discuss information that both characters already know.
  • Determine if the back story is sufficiently complicated; a flashback might work better to bring forth the information.

Keep writing, keep dreaming, heave heart

Inner Logic in Fiction

Written By: Jessica Morrell - Sep• 18•14

Does this happen to you? You’re reading along in a novel written by one of your favorite authors and you feelspeed run swirl colors blue and yellow yourself somehow slipping out of the story. Maybe the pace is too slow, or you’re losing interest, or maybe you’re realizing that things aren’t making sense. Or, you’re stopped, puzzled or bothered by an action or dialogue exchange that just doesn’t feel right based on the characters you’ve come to know. The odd thing about fiction, even if characters are wildly original and wicked, they’re more consistent than real people. And when they behave inconsistently or seemingly on a whim, it can sink the storyline.

These are general illustrations, but usually faulty inner logic  happens on a larger scale. For example, it could be the hero (as in good guy) kills off another character not because this death is necessary to the plot, but just because the hero just didn’t like the guy. If the hero is supposed to rescue the world, or solve the case, or win the day, readers need to trust him. If he’s going to break bad, then the whole story should be about his downward arc or uncovering his true values and motives.

Wait just a darn minute. You say your wisecracking, rough-and-tumble protagonist is an antihero? These types can star in any story and use unusual and even illegal means to solve problems, but they still need a moral compass that readers understand. And buy into.

Other problems that fall under inner logic: There isn’t a truly dramatic conflict at the center. The protagonist’s goal isn’t story worthy or it changes so much as the story goes along that readers cannot track what the protagonist wants and fears. Too much of the story is not spent on answering the central dramatic question. A subplot or secondary character takes over the story. The story turns into the author’s soapbox. Or the real story doesn’t start until page 150 after a lot of back story and stasis so then never develops as needed.

One of the biggest problems with weak inner logic is lack of  motivation. Why did the protagonist take down his ex’s new husband if the action comes out of the blue?  Was the guy a danger? Or was it desperation? Jealousy? Revenge? The solution is to know the morality of your main characters—their values, moral dilemmas and decisions are the plot’s backbone. In this case, the reader also needs to know the threat the new husband plays. Now, if the protagonist and his former wife have children together and the new guy likes kids, but not in a wholesome way, then things start to jell.

Inner logic problems can also come from the world of your story. The further your story veers from the real world, the firmer the foundation needs to be. In the Hunger Games series readers soon learn that every year an authoritarian regime demands literal tributes from each of its districts. Now if these games just took place because it’s bloodthirsty government, the inner logic wouldn’t hold up. However, when readers and movie viewers see the proofs of this new world–the grinding poverty, the military presence, the relentless terror the citizens live under–then we start to believe. As the first novel progresses readers learn that these yearly fight-to-the-death contests are a punishment for a massive rebellion/uprising. They create more fear, prove with hideous certainty that the government is in charge.  And how little they care about citizens’ lives, even children.

Readers want the whys of life answered when reading fiction. Readers have internalized story structure from a lifetime of reading. They know that Act Two—things growing more complicated and surprises popping up—is followed by Act Three where matters come to a head, then a resolution follows. Fiction is a way to transfer nontransferable knowledge—that is knowledge a person cannot learn from his or her own experiences. This means readers learn and experience through fictional characters. And what they learn needs to make sense.

Humans are the only creatures that believe in worlds inside their imaginations. Worlds found between the covers of books or on screens. But all imaginary worlds are built from cause and effect; conflict coming to a boil; scarred, vulnerable characters going up against huge odds. For a  damn good reason.

Keep writing, keep dreaming, have heart

Quick Take:

Written By: Jessica Morrell - Sep• 17•14

Blooming treeWriting is like marriage or a healthy partnership. It needs nurturing, surprises, tender attention. Honesty is required and you cannot take your beloved for granted. And you cannot hold grudges for things that went wrong in the past.

Keep writing, keep dreaming, have heart

Quick Take: Emotions are the lifeblood of stories

Written By: Jessica Morrell - Sep• 07•14

Emotions are the lifeblood of characters and stories. Without characters feeling and exhibiting emotions, you’re just writing events, but you’re not drawing readers into your story. As you become more intimately acquainted with your characters, understand their emotional bandwidth, their highest highs and lowest lows. And, of course, how they react to them. Remember too that emotional intensity builds over the course of your story.

pearl--oyster There is no life without emotions and writers need to tap into them. Feeling deep, seething anger? That’s gold. Unbearable longing? That’s another pearl for your story. Write it down. Same with the heaviness of sorrow, the twitteriness of worry, the exuberance of new love, the long winter of grief.

Quick Note:

Written By: Jessica Morrell - Aug• 30•14

If you have not received the latest issue of The Writing Life newsletter, please contact me.

My fall schedule will be available on September 3, and registration is now open for the Claim Your Story Conference in Ashland, Oregon on October 4. Fabulous line up of workshops! Keynote speaker is Melissa Hart talking about writing the book you want to read. She’ll also be teaching a workshop on scenes in fiction and memoir.  Brilliant author and instructor Midge Raymond will be talking about branding and publishing. I’m going to lead workshops on Brave on the Page and What’s in a Title?

And then, of course, there is Ashland, always lovely in the autumn.  Here’s a glimpse of it:

Lithia Park

 

 

Practical

Written By: Jessica Morrell - Aug• 19•14

I was just talking with a lovely, talented author about a novel she’s working on. She’s having doubts and we were brainstorming how the story could unfold. I started suggesting solutions, rattling them off…..as I tend to do. And  she laughed and said, “But this is so practical.”

“Well, yes. I am practical. Sometimes solutions aren’t that complicated. Sometimes it’s a structural  problem or the story needs a quirky, fun character to lighten it.”

And that’s the truth. Story problems  and writing doubts and even writing paralysis aren’t always the end of things.  Often aren’t even terribly complicated. (more on this in a later post) And often they’re the beginning of something better.

If you’re struggling it doesn’t mean you’re too old, or too young, or too hardened or too fragile or broken down. It doesn’t mean you need to wrestle with a story that’s not working for the next five years. It means you need to search for a practical way to dig out where you’re stuck. Do you know why your characters think/believe as they do? Do you know what’s screwing up your characters? Do you know how your story will end? Or what you like about your characters?

Take writing seriously, take your career seriously, but don’t turn it into a tragic exercise in self -flagellation. Don’t spend too much time worrying about why you’re writing. Write.

Here’s what I told this author who has already had four books published:  When you’re choosing/beginning a story it’s like adopting a family. Choose a family you can live with for a year or so. Choose a family so that when you sit down at your computer, you’re inspired to share their secrets and fears and joys. You’re going to have lots of intimate contact with them. You’ll be driving the same car, using the same bathroom, sleeping on the same pillow. So choose wisely and make sure some fun is involved along with the conflict and pain necessary for storytelling.

Thanks, But with Tape FlagsOne more thing: This photo arrived in my email today. Thanks so much to Alicia for sending it and her kind words about the many ah-ha moments she had while reading it.

Keep writing, keep dreaming, have heart

 

 

Quick Take: Get into your body

Written By: Jessica Morrell - Aug• 14•14

ballet girlsOur minds are crowded little places and we too often sit at our computers our breaths shallow and shoulders riding high. Or, after hours spent alone in your head it feels like an echo chamber. Yet your inner knowing is connected to your heart beat, your breath, your bones. The more you write from your body, the truer the words.

From time to time during your writing sessions, drop down into body awareness and the stillness that’s underneath all things. Not your emotions, not your thoughts, but in your body, through and through. Your bones know the truth. As does your heart. Listen in. Your body holds the knowledge your writing needs.
Feel your pulse, notice your breath. You might need to get out of your chair and assume a yoga position. Or simply sit with your eyes closed. Feel your shoulders, your fingers, the aches in your lower back. Quiet the voice or chatter that loops through your days. Slow your breath. Work at making your body quiet and soft as you release tension.

If becoming still is not your style, then dance or go for a walk, feeling your arms move through space, your feet connected to the ground.

The body, your ally, knows. Quiet makes room for inspiration.

Keep writing, keep dreaming, have heart

 

Writers need to stay curious

Written By: Jessica Morrell - Aug• 04•14

 

The great affair, the love affair with life, is to live as variously as possible, to groom one’s curiosity like a high-spirited thoroughbred, climb aboard, and gallop over the thick, sun-struck hills every day. Where there is no risk, the emotional terrain is flat and unyielding, and, despite all its dimensions, valleys, pinnacles, and detours, life will seem to have none of its magnificent geography, only a length. It began in mystery, and it will end in mystery, but what a savage and beautiful country lies in between.” ~ Diane Ackerman

horse rider sillouhette

Quick Tip: Commas

Written By: Jessica Morrell - Aug• 02•14

comma butterfly

 

 

I see this mistake often in manuscripts so just wanted to pass along this reminder about using commas to separate adjectives and after independent clauses.

From the Purdue OWL:
“Use commas to separate independent clauses when they are joined by any of these seven coordinating conjunctions: and, but, for, or, nor, so, yet.

The game was over, but the crowd refused to leave.

The student explained her question, yet the instructor still didn’t seem to understand.

Yesterday was her brother’s birthday, so she took him out to dinner.”

Use commas to separate two or more coordinate adjectives that describe the same noun. Be sure never to add an extra comma between the final adjective and the noun itself or to use commas with non-coordinate adjectives.

Coordinate adjectives are adjectives with equal (“co”-ordinate) status in describing the noun; neither adjective is subordinate to the other. You can decide if two adjectives in a row are coordinate by asking the following questions:

  • Does the sentence make sense if the adjectives are written in reverse order?
  • Does the sentence make sense if the adjectives are written with and between them?

If you answer yes to these questions, then the adjectives are coordinate and should be separated by a comma. Here are some examples of coordinate and non-coordinate adjectives:

He was a difficult, stubborn child. (coordinate)

They lived in a white frame house. (non-coordinate)
She often wore a gray wool shawl. (non-coordinate)
Your cousin has an easy, happy smile. (coordinate)

The 1) relentless, 2) powerful 3) summer sun beat down on them. (1-2 are coordinate; 2-3 are non-coordinate.)

The 1) relentless, 2) powerful, 3) oppressive sun beat down on them. (Both 1-2 and 2-3 are coordinate.)

Here is the link to more punctuation guides.

(For those of you who are not entomologists, that is a comma butterfly above.)

                  Remember these guys? SilenceOTLambs_085Pyxurz

Characters We’ve Never Met Before

Written By: Jessica Morrell - Jul• 21•14

Fiction readers want to meet story people that they cannot meet in the ordinary world. They also want these people to possess complicated world views and unexpected moral codes. The cast members of Mario Puzo’s The Godfather are splendid examples of this. It’s one of the first novels that depicted mafia families in a sympathetic light and as anti-heroes,  business men who aren’t above snuffing out the competition. Remember that one of the keys to creating anti-heroes is their unorthodox morality. The Godfather

The pitch for the saga is: Don Corleone, an aging patriarch of an organized crime dynasty transfers control of his clandestine empire to his reluctant son Michael. Michael Corleone has a character arc we never saw coming when we first meet at his sister Connie’s wedding to Carlos–the event that begins the story.  In the beginning he’s the beloved youngest son, war hero, and Ivy League graduate.  His role in the family is that he remain untainted and uninvolved in their illegal enterprises. That all changes at the story’s midpoint when he kills a rival family head and a crooked police captain and then goes into hiding in Sicily. By the ending he’s the head of the family and is taking out his enemies including  Carlos, his brother-in-law, because he betrayed his brother Sonny.

Two of the main themes of the story are  respect and loyalty.   However, Michael exacts revenge for disloyalty by murdering within the family, something that his father Vito wouldn’t have sanctioned.  And the loyalty he earns as head of the family is mostly based on fear, not respect. The Corleone family members and their cronies have become iconic fictional figures over the years, as befitting the complexity of the story and its characters.