Authors: Susan May Warren
Tags: #Reference, #Writing; Research & Publishing Guides, #Writing, #Fiction, #Writing Skills, #General Fiction
Now you have your cheat sheet. Go create your Storyworld!
Through the lens of your POV Character
So, you already know that every book, regardless of what kind—suspense, romance, fantasy, thriller, historical romance—every book starts out someplace. In a world. At a moment. With a person. What we also call “the news.”
A good way to see Storyworld is to watch the opening scenes of a movie. Note the details of the scene and how they work with the five senses.
However, without a frame of reference, a perspective through which to view these details, we don’t understand the significance of what we’re seeing. We need to make our Storyworld
personal
.
My book
Wiser than Serpents
(remember the David and Yanna excerpt?) starts in a night market in Taiwan. I could have started with description: the hundreds of tables pushed side by side, vendors hawking chicken legs and squid on a stick, the cloying smell of sweet potatoes mixed with the pungency of tea eggs. I could have talked about the voices of the vendors, each rising above the other in a wild, chaotic cacophony that outshouted even the seagulls at the nearby shipyards.
However, if I simply
describe
the scene, then the reader doesn’t know how to interpret what they see. They need a character to perceive the sights and sift the details through that character’s grid of understanding. Scenery without interpretation is, well,
boring
.
Yet, put someone in the scene with a purpose, even something at stake, and it becomes compelling. What if they’re looking for a small boy, lost in the crowd? Every vendor would be suspect, every vat of boiling oil a horror. Or, what if your character is hiding from someone? Suddenly the market becomes their salvation. What if they’re hungry, and have no money? Then the night market becomes tantalizing, perhaps pushing them over the edge.
Here’s the secret: Move your character through the scene, experiencing the
details
as they go, and the scene changes from static to alive.
Storyworld is the News and the Senses .filtered through your
POV character's opinions, fears, dreams and goals.
He’d never eaten deep fried frog on a stick, but David Curtiss was a patriot, and he’d do just about anything for his country.
“
Shei Shei
,” he said as he took the delicacy from the vendor, fished out a New Taiwan Dollar, and dropped it into the vendor’s hand.
He wondered what might leave a worse taste in his mouth, fried frog, or meeting a man who had beheaded the two undercover agents that had tried this trick before David. But if all went as planned, his culinary sacrifice would lead him to the identity of Kwan-Li, leader of the Twin Serpents, the largest organized crime syndicate in eastern Asia.
The smells of night market were enough to turn even his iron gut to mush— body odor, eggs boiled in soy sauce, fresh fish and oil redolent from the nearby shipyard. Even worse, the fare offered in the busy open market sounded like something from a house of horrors menu: Grilled chicken feet, boiled snails, breaded salamander, poached pigeon eggs, and the specialty of the day — carp head soup.
“What did you get me into, Chet?” he whispered, wondering if Chet Stryker, his cohort for his unfortunate op, were grinning at the other end of his transmitter. “Squid, or even snails, okay, but a frog?” Chet had set up this meet—and the frog signal. “Next time, you’re going to be drinking asparagus juice, buddy.” He hoped Chet’s silence meant he still had eyes on him. David hadn’t seen his partner in the forty-five minutes he’d been walking around the market—a sign of Chet’s skill, no doubt.
David looked at the brown and crispy frog and wondered if he was supposed to add condiments — he’d noticed a sort of ketchup, and horseradish at the bar.
A few more seconds and he’d have to take a bite. It wasn’t enough to just stand here and try to blend with the crowd—not an easy task given that every man who brushed by him stood around chin height. Even with David’s long black dyed hair, silk Asian shirt and designer jeans he knew he looked like a walking American billboard. Thankfully, foreigners flocked to the novelty of night market in this part of Kaohsiung in Taiwan.
He saw a couple of Americans stroll by, listened to their comments about the food, the smells. A short blonde, slightly pudgy, wearing a blue Taiwanese shirt and shorts set probably purchased in a local beach shop, sucked on the straw of a Ju Ju Bee shake. Next to her, her husband was finishing off a grilled squid. Aid workers, probably—the island had a plethora of Americans working in relief and humanitarian aid agencies. Especially after the last earthquake.
He checked his watch. Kwan’s man was late. Which meant he’d have to take a bite of froggie.
He lifted the amphibian to his mouth.
Text Copyright © 2008 by Susan May Warren; Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A.
Everything that happens in night market is through David’s eyes, as he’s waiting for his contact. Because it’s a thriller, I go right into the action, but I still want readers to know where they are.
e.g.
He wondered what might leave a worse taste in his mouth . .
.
Ask:
How does he feel about being there? Positive, negative, uncomfortable, scared? What would he be thinking? Layer those thoughts into the scene.
e.g.
The smells of night market were enough to turn even his iron gut to mush . .
.
Ask:
What physical reaction—and to what?—could he have that would strengthen his opinion or attitude about this situation?
e.g. . . .
Which meant he’d have to take a bite of
froggie.
Can you feel the derision? But, what if I wrote:
e.g.
He
couldn’t
wait
to
take
a
bite of the delectable treat.
Doesn’t
make
sense,
not
with
the
rest
of
the
paragraph,
does
it?
But, what about these
folks?
He
saw
a
couple
of
Americans
stroll
by,
listened
to
their
comments
about
the
food,
the
smells.
A
short
blonde,
slightly
pudgy,
wearing
a
blue
Taiwanese
shirt
and
shorts
set
probably purchased in a local beach shop sucked on the straw of a Ju Ju Bee shake.
Next to her, her husband was finishing off a grilled squid.
Now,
that
male POV character might say, “It was a delicatessen of exotic treats that made his palate water.”
Make the perspective personal!
Hook ‘em!
“One of the most difficult things is the first paragraph. In the first paragraph, you solve most of the problems with your book. The theme is defined, the style, the tone. At least in my case, the paragraph is a kind of sample of what the rest of the book is going to be.”
Gabriel
Garcia
Márquez,
who
won
the
1982
Nobel
Prize
for
Literature for
One
Hundred
Years
of
Solitude,
which
sold
over
10
million
copies
I have Márquez’s quote taped to my computer monitor, to remind me of the impact and the importance of that Hook paragraph.
What do you do when you pick up a book? Probably read the back cover blurb, and then open to the first page. Then, in the next ten seconds, you’ll either be hooked or you’ll put the book down. An author has to capture your interest—and every other potential reader’s interest—in the first couple of sentences. A reader is looking for creative writing, a question that piques their interest, someone they can relate to, a setting that interests them, and a story that can match the value of their time. That’s a lot to put into the first sentence, or even the first paragraph!
But it can be done, especially if you make your Hook SHARP.
What do I mean by that? A SHARP Hook is a Hook comprised of the five elements that will hook your reader into continuing the story::
Why does this story matter? This is the question every reader is going to ask themselves, if not out loud, then silently, as they’re reading. Why, indeed, should anyone spend time reading your book?
Stakes drive your reader through the story, and hinting at the stakes in the beginning will give your reader something to fight for.
There
are
two
kinds
of
stakes:
public
or
private.
Stakes can be public, meaning they affect society, as in in movies like
Raiders of the Lost Ark, The Hunt for Red October
, or even
Erin Brockovich
), or private, as in some of my favorites movies:
Frequency, Cellular
, or even the poignant
Somersby
). The important element
is
that
if
the
stakes
matter
to
you,
they’ll
matter
to
your
readers.
Public
Stakes
Public stakes have much to do with public values. For example, during WW II, the public value was very much protecting our country, and banding together to fight the war. So, stories about espionage and battle were popular stakes in both books and movies.
However, as times have changed, so have our values.
Today, personal freedom and family have taken over as the chief collective stakes. We still have issues of national security, which is why shows like
24
are so popular). But even within those issues, it’s the
personal life
behind the war that captures people. Think of shows like
Army Wives
. When stakes involve our freedoms and safety as Americans, or members of a family, it makes for a compelling story.
One example is the movie
Saving Private Ryan
. Even the main character, Captain John Miller, played by Tom Hanks, realizes the power of family against the great backdrop of the war as he fights to bring home Private Ryan to his devastated mother.
Ask:
Is the issue in the story pertinent to today’s public values? Does the issue touch the heart of all of us? Does it tap into the American Dream?
Ask:
What matters to me? If something matters to you, then it matters to others. What’s the worst thing you could think of happening to you? Others will fear the same thing too. And that’s where you find your public stakes.
But what if my story is about a prairie girl who wants to win a horse race? There’s no public stakes
there.
Who can forget the story of Laura Ingalls, when she rides her horse Bunny in a race against Nellie? Evil Nellie hates that Laura has a horse, and persuades her mother to buy her a fancy horse from Mankato. Laura’s horse doesn’t have a chance in the race against Nellie’s thoroughbred. What’s worse, Mrs. Olsen mocks Caroline, Laura’s mother, for being poor, and refuses to sell her shoes for her children until she has cash. If Laura can win the race, she’ll receive a prize that she can use to pay for the shoes. She trains Bunny and is ready for the big race. Then Willie, Nellie’s brother, gets sick. No one is around, so Laura has to make a choice: ride Bunny to fetch the doctor and risk the horse being too tired to run the race, or let Willie suffer. What will she do?
Why does this story matter?
See, underneath this story are two competing values: Family honor and compassion, both of which Laura has big doses of.
Which value will win? This is what we call
Private
Stakes.
Private stakes can be found in the root of our values. The things that drive us, or the things we long for. Laura longed to show up Nellie, and to help her parents. But she also knew that to be true to herself, she had to be compassionate. When we pit values against each other in a story, it not only makes for great conflict, but it touches the heart of your readers in a way that makes the story stick.