Showing posts with label Marion Zimmer Bradley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marion Zimmer Bradley. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 08, 2009

Astrology Just For Writers Part 8: The Beat Sheet

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But first --

A word about the Galaxy Express contest. At the right sidebar, you see a column of book covers. Enter by commenting on the announcement post here below and one person wins them all. If you win, and have already read the book I put up there, Dushau, you can switch to one of its sequels or one of the other titles at http://www.jacquelinelichtenberg.com

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Now to the BEAT SHEET, a mysterious screenwriting term that is the major key to success in text-fiction writing today.

The "Beat Sheet" we'll discuss is the one featured in the "Save The Cat" series of screenwriting techniques by the late Blake Snyder. A pdf copy can be downloaded at

http://www.blakesnyder.com/tools/

Get it, print it out, puzzle over it a few minutes. The names of the beats are all interpreted and explained with examples in Blake Snyder's books.

On that website you'll also find a film or two analyzed by the beat sheet, and at the top of the page there's a list of all the films mentioned in Snyder's book, grouped by the "Genre" signatures he has extracted empirically from a plethora of blockbuster films.

Look over that list of films and you'll see from the ones you're familiar with just what his concept of "genre" does for understanding story structure, and what his beat sheet does for understanding plot structure. All this is free. The books are available on Amazon.

Snyder's concept works proportionately for shorter screenplays, say for TV for example, and you can calculate the page numbers for each beat of a shorter work at:
http://www.rareform.com/screenplay-editor/beats.php

Try it for novel length works and see how the proportions fall. Check those proportions against your favorite books.

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This blog post you are now reading is actually Part 8 in the Astrology Just For Writers series.

The previous post in this series
http://aliendjinnromances.blogspot.com/2009/11/astrology-just-for-writers-part-6.html

Was named Part 6 by accident, but was actually part 7.

The real Part 6 is
http://aliendjinnromances.blogspot.com/2009/10/astrology-just-for-writers-pt-6.html

Now, in Part 8, we are blending bits and pieces of writing craft techniques we've discussed in some depth both in these Astrology posts and in the 20 posts on Tarot I did in 2007 into an orchestrated performance.

Here's the final Tarot post with links back to the previous ones.
http://aliendjinnromances.blogspot.com/2007/12/10-pentacles-cake-comes-out-of-oven.html

So Astrology Part 6 was ALSO Part 2 of Targeting a Readership.

Astrology Part 7 was ALSO Part 3 of Targeting a Readership.

Using Astrology as a plotting tool is kind of like learning Quadratic Equations in Algebra. Up to now everything has been Freshman algebra, pretty simple, one thing at a time, take the lesson, practice it as a single thing, master it, move on.

Now however, we're learning cross-terms, integration, powers and factoring. Now we're starting to "solve" real life (actually writing a novel or screenplay) problems.

Yeah, now we get to "word problems."

This "Astrology Just For Writers" is a non-technical discussion of how a writer who knows no astrology (and doesn't want to learn) can apply basic principles from astrology to infuse their writing with verisimilitude.

Most people, when they hear I teach writing via Tarot and Astrology instantly think "cast a chart for the main characters" or "a character does a Tarot reading that predicts whatever and the story is how it works out against fate."

That, however, is what Hollywood screenwriters call "on the nose" and is in fact a highly inept and ineffective writing tool for most writing projects (worked gangbusters for Piers Anthony though).

Besides being "on the nose", inserting Tarot readings or doing a natal chart for a character requires expertise you can't fake by reading interpretations from books and planting them in your story.

I know because when I set out with a collaborator to create a TV series based on a group of Astrologers solving mysteries using astrology, it took me only a few hours work before I picked up the phone and called one of the biggest name Astrologers -- possibly in the whole world -- Noel Tyl.

Noel Tyl's books on Amazon

He worked with us for about 6 weeks creating the ensemble characters natal charts and charting The Event they had to dig into and solve with their individual specialties in astrology. The resulting script would pass muster with any astrologer, but didn't sell because it was too farfetched.

The Event we chose was 9/11 (written about 6 years prior), and we wrote it a lot (I mean a LOT) smaller and more trivial to make it believable and small enough to fit a TV budget, and we set it in Los Angeles.

I had done birth charts for various cities for an anthology of non-fiction on Astrology and thus knew which cities the planetary alignment in effect at that time would hit (a transit that doesn't connect with the natal chart will not manifest anything). We chose Los Angeles because it would be cheaper to do location filming there.

It was a very "on the nose" presentation of astrology, but done for the non-technical general audience who wouldn't believe it at all.

Lesson: stay off the nose. That means don't say what you mean; let the reader figure it out from their own knowledge of life in general.

Astrology and Tarot can be useful to a writer by objectively delineating the underlying patterns in life that everyone knows but can't actually see.

Astrology and Tarot reveal the poetry of life. Most writers already "see" that poetry in motion in lives around them and that's why they want to "become" writers. They want to make everyone see what they see. But others with dynamite stories to tell can't quite make sense of the way readers see life, and so can't communicate their visions.

Just a cursory glance at the body of ancient wisdom called Astrology will reveal to the writer how the world looks to readers, and allow the writer to present their unique vision in terms the reader (and editor with money to pay) will understand.

This Astrology Just For Writers series of posts is likewise useful to readers who want to become insightful and popular reviewers, but general readers may be happier not knowing the tricks of the writer's trade.

Knowing these tricks, a reviewer can assess whether the writer applied them well enough to please certain readers even though the work doesn't particularly please that reviewer.

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I have 4 issues to discuss about The Beat Sheet here:

1) The Beat Sheet (go get it at the link above, read discussion below)
2) Why Astrology Does Not "Work"
3) The power of Astrology as a plotting tool
4) A Question about identifying, concocting and placing the CATALYST (Blake Snyder's term) or Inciting Incident (general screenwriting term) or Springboard (general TV writing term) from the beat sheet into your story.

1)What is Blake Snyder's Beat Sheet?

It is a list of generic types of events that have to happen in any screenplay, in that order, at those precisely proportioned intervals.

The "beats" are EVENTS -- so they are plot.

However the "beats" can be EMOTIONALLY LOADED INFORMATION revealed to the audience, so beats carry the story forward.

Ideally, in a great work of art, the emotionally loaded information is revealed via Events, a story told in pictures.

Plot and story are welded so close the viewer/reader can't tell them apart. Telling them apart is the writer's craft. The less the readers know about that craft, the more they enjoy the work of art.

It's like watching a stage magician. "How did he do that?"

Well, the point is that magicians never tell.

If we don't tell, how do we pass it down to the next generation?

As the writers who founded the art of the "motion" picture, and the "talkie" began to die off, their secrets were being lost. But in the meantime, the artform had evolved with the ever increasing sophistication of movie goers -- and of course, TV educated moreviewers in childhood, shaping new tastes.

So the artform evolved with growing frustration among producers who couldn't get the material they needed from new writers, and new writers with great ideas who couldn't sell their stuff to the moneyed producers.

Along came Blake Snyder, second generation film family (read his bio in his books and on his website).

He was a film addict and when he became filled up with films, he began to notice what made a good film, and what made a great film.

Meanwhile, he was "on the inside" working with studios and producers to get scripts whipped into usable shape.

Using "The Board" (a visual display of the beats of a script) to reveal the problems with the script and also the solutions to those problems in visual terms (film people are very visual), Blake gestalted an underlying truth that had escaped previous formulators of "how to write a screenplay."

The producers want "the same but different."

The writers want to be different - unique.

Writers get accepted for being unique, but rejected for being "too unique" which is bewildering. Writers understand "different" -- but not "the same."

Viewers, meanwhile, reject films and TV shows that are too predictable. But viewers reject films that aren't predictable enough as "making no sense."

A very rare few writers understood "the same but different" on a non-verbal, intuitive level and took Hollywood by storm. Others, with grand stories to tell, couldn't "break in." But with the internet, inexpensive computerized video recording equipment, and leaps and bounds in communications, The Independent Film Producer burst on the scene just as the Self-Published and then E-Book Publisher burst on the text scene.

And guess what? To make a great film with no budget to speak of, you need a writer who has a complete grasp of The Same But Different.

Blake Snyder's beat sheet clarified all this fog.

Today prize winning Independent films have Blake Snyder's Beat Sheet visible to the trained eye, shaping the filmed events, however cheaply produced.

What's different about Snyder's beat sheet?

It has 15 beats. It fills in the GAPS in the usual screenwriting course's beat sheet with something a writer can grab hold of and use.

Naturally, since Blake revealed this years ago, today you see the 15 beat shape everywhere, not just in the blockbusters.

In the traditional beat sheet for a film, the beat called "Inciting Incident" was formulated to be one specific kind of dramatic event.

Blake renamed it CATALYST, which broadens the application of this beat's underlying concept and allowed Blake to formulate a series of types of stories he called "genres" which define stories and group them in a different way.

All these "genres" have the same 15 beat structure.

See my review of SAVE THE CAT! on Amazon.

Save The Cat! The Last Book on Screenwriting You'll Ever Need

And Save The Cat Goes To The Movies!

Save the Cat! Goes to the Movies: The Screenwriter's Guide to Every Story Ever Told

And the new, 3rd book in the series pub'd Nov 2009:

Save the Cat!® Strikes Back: More Trouble for Screenwriters to Get Into... and Out Of

Many commentators on Amazon were deriding SAVE THE CAT! as being too restrictive, too formulaic, too stultifying to writer-artists creativity. I pointed out that this series of books on screenwriting are about OPENS EVERYWHERE films, not Art House or "Opens Near You" films.

This is the beat sheet to use if you want to shoot for the Big Budget Producers (or big publicity publishers) looking for the next Batman franchise. It'll work to win film festivals, but very likely won't win film festivals focused on the leading edge of the evolution of filmed story telling.

Save The Cat! is billed as the last book on screenwriting you'll need, but that's the point. It is the last not the first. But it does reveal the connection between the screenplay market and the novel market, and how and why they are converging as they are, and how to write a novel for this new market.

Save The Cat! is not about evolving or changing or leading the film industry. It's about making money at screenwriting.

But there is ONE BEAT that appears in every single form of film, avante guarde or cliche-ridden ho-hum, in every novel and every other sort of story I've ever run across.

Every film, every story, every plot, every novel, has a CATALYST BEAT.

The CATALYST BEAT inciting me to write this blog entry was the Question by a writer who asked me to explain the Catalyst beat in depth.

The Question has 2 parts, "Beat" and "Catalyst" or "Incite."

But we are not mechanics. We are artists. Worse, yet, we are performing artists (as I was taught by Alma Hill).

Our artistic medium is not paint pigments, or sound, or woven textiles, or paper mache, or embroidery thread or city planning.

Our artistic medium is the emotions of our readers/viewers. We cause our reader/viewers to dance to our music, internally.

I should point out here that "reader" does not mean someone who can sound-out the words. This is something very frustrating and unfortunate in our world.

You can't make a 40 year old "literate" by teaching him to read. He's missed 35 years of reading thousands of books, and there's no way to replace those years or catch up.

Remedial literacy training is of course invaluable, a "Catalyst Beat" in a life that changes everything. But the later in life you "learn" to read, the less facile your brain will be at making the cold text disappear from before your eyes so you can walk into the story as a character, live their experiences, and learn vicariously.

A reader who learns at 3 or 4 to decipher words, and goes on to devour every book their parents allow (and some they don't) has learned how to make the written text on the page disappear from before their eyes and to see and experience what the characters do.

A viewer has learned to make the actors and sets (a feat in live stage) disappear and immerse themselves in the reality of the story, but that story lacks dimensions of intimacy and immediacy that can be achieved only by text (so far in our world's technology -- another Catalyst Beat would be the advent of such a new technology of storytelling.)

The writer's "craft" is the mastery of the entire set of tools designed to help readers and viewers make those concrete symbols disappear so they can live the story the writer is performing before them.

The STORY is the sequence of emotions the character experiences.

The "science" of emotions is "psychology" -- but some people can take any number of psychology courses in college, read self-help books until they're eyes cross, and still not understand what motivates people, or what shapes lives, well enough to connect with readers/viewers.

Some people need a model of the universe which includes a spiritual dimension but does not depend on spiritual awareness.

Some writing students need to learn (a very little bit) of Astrology in order to master the Beat Sheet.

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2) Why Astrology Does Not Work

I recently posted a link to an article mentioning astrology onto my facebook page ( http://facebook.com/jacqueline.lichtenberg ), and a comment popped up dripping scorn, insisting that Astrology Does Not Work -- and therefore, that's the end of the matter.

Well, of course astrology does not "work!" I never said it did.

But that doesn't mean it's not useful to an artist.

Why would such superstitious nonsense, such snake-oil-salesman fodder, such flimflammery as astrology be any kind of artistic tool?

Astronomy "works" -- it's real.

And astronomy is revealing some very important things about the universe and its structure. But it's still a work in progress.

Likewise, so is astrology a work in progress.

The advent of computers has helped both investigations.

So why is astrology being left in the dust?

Because Astrology has become (like Tarot) the tool of the grifters, snake-oil-salesmen, confidence men/women, bunko artists.

There is something in human nature that is absolutely convinced that knowing "the" future will fix everything that's wrong with a person's life.

That's one reason I love the new TV show FLASHFORWARD -- knowing a snatch of the future is more trouble than it's worth. The CATALYST moment for that show was the moment that almost everyone in the world experienced a flash of a future event in their personal life. It's also the concept. The economy of that is what makes it art.

The rest of the episodes deal with the following set of attributes of general human nature.

There is greed for power (over self, and others).

There is greed for free money (just send me $10 and I'll tell you your lucky day or what lottery numbers to play).

There is greed for love (free and otherwise). ($15 and you can make her love you)

There is greed for success. ($20 to learn where to move to get a job or better job).

There is greed for sex. ($25 for a charm to attract "women" (plural))

There is greed for good health (which is much harder to sneer at).

There is greed for alleviating anxiety.

There are 12 signs in the zodiac, each with a greed, and 10 "planets" or moving points, each with a greed. Greeds come in mixed shades and are sometimes hard to recognize as such.

Somewhere, symbolized by the placement of one or another point in your natal chart, you have a "greed point" -- almost everyone has something they can't get enough of; an emotional black hole, a neurotic need.

These "black holes" are also our greatest strengths.

In astrology, every sign and every planet and every "house" in a chart has a "positive" manifestation as a strength, and a "negative" manifestation, a malfunction, turning what is a shining WHITE HOLE into a bottomless BLACK HOLE (or vice versa) according to how the Soul incarnated to live that life uses those resources.

The Soul is here, on life's journey (the Hero's Journey) to transform the power represented by the natal chart points into positive or virtuous manifestations.

Power is very hard to handle. Each point in the natal chart describes a type of power available in this life, and how well the Soul has mastered handling that power in previous lives, and what is to learned in this life.

During the life, the planets continue to move, triggering off spurts of power from the stationary natal points. In other worse "live and learn." (I'm leaving out Solar Arcs and Progressions because I promised this wouldn't be technical. Use what you know, nevermind what I leave out.)

Some regard those spurts of power entering the life as "lessons" and others as "tests." Every religion has a different explanation for how life goes. If it's not a religion you grew up with, the explanations can seem confusing or ridiculous. But most religions seem to accept that there is some kind of purpose in life, some reason for our vicissitudes.

Astrologers look at life's patterns as just pure energy blasting into lives and either being handled by the Soul living the life, or not. And so sometimes the symbolism expresses itself as a vice (someone becomes an addict at a certain transit) or as a virtue (same transit, someone else becomes a doctor). Sometimes both doctor and addict result.

The virtues and vices of these symbols were described in detail by the famous astrology writer Grant Lewi, but that book is out of print.

Our shared instinct, assumption or neurosis is that if we could just fill that black hole UP once and for all, we could solve all our problems. After several failures at filling their black hole, most people are willing to listen to bunko artists who will "sell" them the promise or hope of filling that hole.

That's how bunko works. Every "mark" targeted in every scam (and the art in bunko is figuring which scam to run on which mark) is manipulated by the mark's greed.

If you have no greed in you, you are absolutely safe from ever being targeted as a "Mark" -- or if some beginner grifter tries a scam on you, you'll see right through it, or just turn and walk away because they can't get their hooks into your subconscious (where your greed lies).

That greed is just POWER entering your life at a time determined at birth when your life's clock began running. Think of a fire hose with water gushing out full strength. It takes a lot of strength, determination, cooperation with fellows, and discipline to keep that power pointed at the problem (fire). It could break the neighboring house's windows if it gets out of control.

"Well governed" = manifesting as the "virtue."

"Ill governed" = manifesting as the "vice."

It's the Soul that has to "govern" the power gushing into our lives.

But when it comes to our black holes, to our greedy spots, to our lazy spots, to our neuroses, to our simple one-step solution to all our problems by getting something for nothing, by finding the easy way out, by just saying you're sorry and starting over, by doing the sin planning to confess, or by offering the politically correct excuse "I'm sorry, Ma'am but I'm doing all I can," which simply means you refuse to expand your capabilities in order to do your job, when it comes to our black holes we are all absolutely convinced there's someone somewhere who knows the answer to all our problems.

And that's what the grifters are selling. Answers. The promise of filling the black hole.

Some grifters use astrology itself as the scam. Some use Tarot. Some use legitimate religion (or spinoff cults), or drugs, or "I'll make you a star," or self-publishing, or "post your script here for $50 and big production companies will read it," or whatever seems to fit the greed of the mark.

Each astrological symbol (planet, sign, house) represents a FORCE. It's just plain power.

Each soul acts as a conduit for the power they have at birth.

That life's pattern of power is described in the natal chart, and the bursts of power strewn throughout life are described via transits to those activated natal points.

The Soul funnels that plain, raw power into the world of manifestation, coloring and shaping it into objects, or events, via the four-step transformer process I described in detail in my 20 posts on the Tarot.

Those 20 posts describe the function of "Jacob's Ladder" -- the Wheatstone Bridge of the Spirit.

Here's the final post in the series, with links to work backwards through all 20.

http://aliendjinnromances.blogspot.com/2007/12/10-pentacles-cake-comes-out-of-oven.html

The reason Astrology does not "work" is very simple.

Astrology is just a CLOCK. It tells you what time you were born, and thus what time it is "now."

Astrology can tell you that you have an appointment with the dentist, but it can not tell you that you will be there in time (or at all), or which dentist, or whether you have a cavity, or even whether you'll have any teeth left by the time the dentist appointment comes around.

Each astrological symbol and combination of symbols represents an infinite range of different possible manifestations.

Like the symbol X in algebra can have an assigned value, a calculated value, or a range of values - a different value in each equation - the astrological symbols are likewise "unknowns" until a specific Soul "lets them equal."

That variance in "value" does not make X useless in algebra.

That variance in "value" does not make Mars useless in astrology.

The astrological symbol does not contain any information about how any given set of energies WILL manifest.

Grifters try to convince you that they can tell you how energy will manifest in your life. Since astrology has been adopted as a grifter's tool, and since almost everyone who has fallen for that scam has been disappointed, therefore astrology has the reputation of "not working."

Well, it doesn't work (and can't and never was intended to "work") to foretell "the" future, or your future.

That's why it doesn't "work" -- it doesn't do what "they" say it will do.

But what it does do, it does superlatively, and everyone knows that in their heart of hearts just as anyone who's had to balance a checkbook knows how useful X is even in the simplest equation.

You don't need an astrologer to tell you what transit you're under or what it's good for.

Your BONES know. You feel it. Your soul knows.

You may not believe your soul when it yells at you, but you HEAR that still small voice inside repeating what the higher powers have sent you still small voice within when it tells you what the higher powers sent here to do. Or what you sent you here to do.

Everyone has this inner access. Everyone has this experience. We are all "the same." We have something inside that reads our astrology to us.

Astrology is about timing the events of life. Astrology is the beat-sheet of your life. You know those beats as well as you know the beats of your favorite TV show.

Astrology is the objective structure behind your life.

Your life has a genre, just like Blake Snyder's SAVE THE CAT! genres.

Life has a plot and a story that belong to the genre of your life.

As Shakespear pointed out we are all actors on a stage with our exits and entrances, and we each play many parts, trying to fill our black holes until we discover that "filling" doesn't get rid of black holes.

Very spiritually advanced, incredibly "together" people don't have this black hole because they've learned that filling doesn't work.

But we don't write stories about them because they have no INTERNAL CONFLICT, which is an essential ingredient in a protagonist and antagonist (the two characters the story is "about"). Sometimes a guru or tsadik may be an ancillary character in a story, but not the protagonist or antagonist who must learn the lessons the guru already knows but can't teach.

Such spiritually advanced folks (there's maybe a few dozen in the world at any time) have spent lifetimes mastering every sort of energy coming into life from every possible direction, made all the mistakes we're currently making, and mastered it all. They're here only to show us that "it" (whatever it is that's bugging you) can in fact be mastered.

They can't do it for us. And they can't teach us. They can only assure us that it's possible and ignite aspiration. Meeting such a character can be the Catalyst Beat (that's a transit to a Node or a Solar Arc to a mid-point involving the Nodes usually).

And you won't find those extremely advanced folks practicing "Astrology" as a means for foretelling your future or solving your problems for you. More likely they'll be trying to convince you that you should stand on your own feet.

Because, you see, "Astrology" actually does NOT WORK.

It is not a tool for foretelling "the" future or even "a" future. It can't solve your problems for you any more than Tarot can.

Astrology can't tell you anything you don't already know. But it can show you what other people know that you can use to tell them stories.

Just like Tarot, Astrology does not tell us how we're different from each other, which is all that really interests us.

When you're just trying to live your life (as opposed to writing stories for general audiences) you're not looking for the connections among all things, and the general solution to life for everyone.

All you want is to solve your own life.

It makes a difference to you whether you get the job, or not; whether you live or die; whether you get cancer or not; whether you become crippled in a car accident or not.

Astrology though can't tell the difference among these manifestations which is the only difference that matters to us. And so Astrology "does not work."

An astrological natal chart can't distinguish male from female or living from dead. Massive fame, fortune and success have the same signature as chronic spectacular failure, dramatic improbable accidents, and a woebegone pillar to post existence.

3) The power of Astrology as a plotting tool

Astrology's inability to distinguish between what seems to us living folks as polar opposites is what makes it useful to a writer.

Another attribute that makes Astrology useful to writers is the deep, innate, instinctual, subliminal awareness every human being has of the "beats" of his own life being tapped out by the transits of planets to the natal points in his chart.

Astrology describes what we have in common with each other, and how come it seems like we're all such unique individuals yet at the same time we're really all the same.

The same, but different.

Sound familiar?

That's the call that all big budget film producers send out every day. "I want something the same as (whatever), but DIFFERENT."

What are they saying, really?

Human nature, as described by Astrological natal charts, is all "the same, but different."

That's why we are willing to pay for entertainment that's "the same, but different" -- why we want permutations and variations on a single theme until it bores us to death.

Our natal chart is the "beat sheet" of our lives. We see it in ourselves and we see it in others we know personally, or even just read about in celebrity magazines.

"That's life," is a philosophical shrug for a reason.

We choose friends and life-partners -- or shun others -- because we can see the "shape" of their life in the series of events we know they've lived through. We know how they've handled certain energies, and therefore predict they will continue to handle such challenges that way. Therefore, we either throw in our lot with them, or shun them.

Because "that's life."

Learning a little astrology can help clarify these half-intuited patterns behind "life."

Bad luck comes in threes. The outer planets often transit a given point once in your lifetime -- but do it 3 times (because of retrogradation which is an optical illusion visible only from Earth's surface.)


Everyone knows the principles of astrology even if they've never heard the word astrology.

If you've read a lot of biographies, you know all you need to know about astrology. Or not. Some people need to have it quantified, laid out mathematically, clear and concise.

Astrology assembles and organizes "life's lessons" into a drumbeat that all readers and viewers will recognize.

Waltzes have a rhythm. Tango has a rhythm. Fox Trot has a rhythm.

The backbone of music is rhythm. The backbone of dance, ice dancing, synchronized swimming, ballet, every artform in motion has a rhythm.

A Life has a rhythm.

Life in general has multitudinous rhythms simultaneously. 12 Signs in the zodiac, 10 moving points, 12 Houses in each individual chart. Multiply it out factorial. All of this going on simultaneously. It's white noise.

But as I've said I learned early, the writer is a performing artist, an ARTIST first and foremost.

The job of the artist is to discern patterns invisible to others and portray those patterns to the audience in such a way as to increase the audience's understanding of what they can not see for themselves.

The artist brings out Eternal Truths and particularizes them to the current life-situation of the audience.

A writer can take one natal chart, create a character to live that chart's most prominent life-lesson, and walk that character through learning that lesson in such a way that a reader who has not lived that lesson can understand the lesson.

The reader may know other people who have lived or are living that lesson -- or perhaps have only heard of such a person. The reader will recognize this lesson and the lesson's BEATS.

Sometimes, a reader will actually learn a life-lesson from a story because in a past life they learned that lesson by dying for it, and here they can acquire the lesson vicariously. Reading such a novel that makes such an impression can be a CATALYST beat for a character's life.

If the writer gets the astrology correct, the very largest possible audience will be able to relate to that lesson as something familiar.

And that's another reason not to "cast" a natal chart for your characters. To grab the widest audience, you need to write about "Mr. Everyman." He may have Sun in Leo (as Gene Roddenberry did), but your character might need to have characteristics of Moon in several signs to connect with a broad audience.

If you specify too much, fewer and fewer people will believe the character or see his actions as plausible. So you scatter hints that some readers will see as Moon in Cancer and others will see as Moon in Aquarius, etc. If you hint broadly enough, any given reader can interpret the hint to make the character real to themselves.

So some characteristics have to be loud and clear, and very specific. Those are the ones that the story is about, the lesson being learned, and the tools to use to learn that lesson. Everything else has to be kept vague enough to let all the readers in.

That's what Leonard Nimoy taught us (while we were interviewing for the Bantam Paperback STAR TREK LIVES!) that actors call "open texture."

Think of DANCE.

If you know how to fox-trot, and someone invites you to dance to a tune you've never heard before -- but you recognize the fox-trot rhythm and you know the steps, you can spin right out onto the floor with a strange dance partner and fox-trot away. Or Mambo. Or Samba.

The fox-trot is a rhythm. The tune, the band, the singer, the dance floor's polish, the colored-light ambiance, the acoustics, the open ballroom doors, the cold breeze, the red velvet curtains, and the bar tender are all there making the experience unique. But it's a pleasant experience because YOU KNOW THE RHYTHM and that rhythm is not broken.

"Not broken" means your partner does not step on your toes. It also means the writer doesn't step on the reader's toes.

So a book or a movie is an artistic rendition of LIFE with a recognizable rhythm and a unique ambiance. The same, but different.

The reader only sees the details of the ambiance. The writer knows the whole thing "works" as art because of (and only because of) the rhythm being exactly on beat.

There are a lot of rhythms in music and in life.

There is one life rhythm that the pioneer astrologer Grant Lewi singled out and became famous for revealing in the early 20th century.

His books Heaven Knows What and Astrology for the Millions made him ultra-famous outside Astrologer's circles because they can "prove" to people who flat out disbelieve in astrology that astrology is REAL (not that "it works" because it doesn't, but that it relates to your own personal life in a spooky-unique way only you yourself can recognize).

The ability to absorb the proof that Grant Lewi offers depends on how self-honest you are, how self-aware.

There are times in life when you protect yourself against these hard truths because they would destroy you. So don't go around trying to "prove" astrology to anyone. When it's time, they'll find it and their own use for it (which is minimal unless they're artists).

So the one life-rhythm that Grant Lewi wrote an entire book about is the Saturn Cycle. Read that book, you'll recognize it in your own life and in the lives of people you know.

You could write thirty novels where the protagonist lives through the lessons of the Saturn cycle, and never repeat yourself and never bore your readers. (one I wrote is titled UNTO ZEOR, FOREVER)

But there's also Uranus.

And as I've mentioned so many times on this blog, there's NEPTUNE.

Neptune transits produce all the variants on "falling in love" (and out of it) that is the foundation of the entire Romance Genre and all its subgenres (including my own favorite SFR).

Where you are in your Saturn cycle when a Neptune transit hits can determine the flow of that romance.

Then Uranus (freedom; Aquarius) can operate at the same time. You get the cheating-on-the-wife syndrome mixed with cheating-on-the-mistress, and the wife running around on the side. If you can jump double-dutch, you can write these novels, and right in the middle of the mess the Soul Mate turns up which of course doesn't solve the problem.

Soul Mate turning up can be a Catalyst Beat.

Request for Divorce can be a Catalyst Beat.

Spouse dying can be a Catalyst Beat.

Being deployed to Afghanistan 2 months before the baby is due can be a Catalyst Beat.

Catalyst Beat material is made from transits of the slow moving outer planets to the inner Natal Planets or angles. These are great, common events everyone knows and understands given a unique personal dimension by the character to whom they happen.

Think of the woman who was being deployed to Afghanistan but had a 2 year old, and her backup plan for childcare fell through so she refused to go with her unit -- and got arrested for it and made national headlines. Catalyst Beat for some, crushing blow for others.

If your novel is about the Lawyer who handles the case and becomes famous because of it, the catalyst beat in his life is when he first hears of the case. The "debate" beat is whether he should take it. The Break Into Two beat is accepting the case. The Fun And Games beat is putting the case together. The Break Into Three is the courtroom scene.

See? You can already see the movie.

Each thread of life's beats is governed by a particular planet and moves with its own rhythm. Mercury and Venus go around the Sun every year, Mars about every 1.88 years, Jupiter 12 years, Saturn 28, Uranus about 84 years plus or minus, and the Neptune and Pluto probably won't make it in your lifetime. Think about that. Hear the beats. That's the beat that governs the music of the spheres.

You can make up interesting rhythms, and make up new ones nobody ever heard of. You can create new rhythms, and they will "reach" audiences just the way any new musical rhythm will.

If you want to reach a very wide audience very quickly and get your byline memorized, use a tried and true, old as the hills, rhythm.

It's the beat, man, it's the beat.

It tells you what options suddenly open before a particular kind of character at what age.

The "character" is the life + the soul, and the lessons the soul has already learned from living this life and maybe previous ones (how Wise is your character?).

The beat of life is the astrological natal chart. The soul is the entire orchestra playing a NEW SONG to that beat, and with most souls some of the instruments are playing a tad flat (the black hole; the weakness).

So now we know what a beat-sheet is, and can see how Astrology describes (as many other disciplines describe) the beat-sheet of a character's life.

We know that the "beat" underlying a story has to be recognizable and familiar (i.e. "the same") to the reader while the tune and the instruments can be experimental and unique, totally unfamiliar to the reader (i.e. "but different").

Or the tune and instruments may also be "familiar" (i.e. belonging to a certain well defined genre such as Romance, Horror, SF, Adventure, Western).

Characters fall into cliche's but are usable with a twist. The Hero. The Grifter. The Town Drunk. The Techie. The Wastrel. The Guru.

These become archetypes -- blank templates into which the writer pours original distinguishing characteristics.

Creating these variations is an art in itself.

4) A Question about identifying, concocting and placing the CATALYST (Blake Snyder's term) or Inciting Incident (general screenwriting term) or Springboard (TV writing term) from the beat sheet into your story.

OK, now to the point of this post.

The writer asked me how to concoct the CATALYST for a story.

How do you know what it is and where it happens in the character's life and where to put it in your story?

We know it happens on page 12 of a 110 page screenplay.

We know what it does. It changes EVERYTHING in that character's life that the character thought could never change.

The cheap-cheesy way to do it is to make the catalyst a threat to the protag's security. Some genres require that. "Women in Jeopardy" for example.

If you know enough technical astrology, you can see why certain genres become popular with certain age-groups at certain times. People gravitate toward permutations and combinations of themes because of the real life issues highlighted by their natal chart and transits, whether their own soul is living that issue or not. Their contemporaries are, and that makes it a concern.

I did a post on how Pluto has influenced mass tastes over generations. It's here:
http://aliendjinnromances.blogspot.com/2009/11/astrology-just-for-writers-part-6.html
And this one is the sequel misnamed - it's actually part 7
http://aliendjinnromances.blogspot.com/2009/10/astrology-just-for-writers-pt-6.html

The general solution to finding the Catalyst Beat is that the catalyst is the first contact the protagonist has with the antagonist, the first moment the CONFLICT that will be resolved at THE END emerges and is defined for the audience/readership.

In ROMANCE, it's the point at which the two who will fall in love first meet or become aware of each other.

We all know that can result in love-at-first-sight, or hate-at-first-sight or even one or the other or both being totally oblivious.

In Mystery, it's the moment the first corpse is discovered. In open form Mystery, that's after the murder is watched by the reader/viewer. In closed form, that's the opening scene or chapter. We get a little introduction of the Detective whose problem it will be, sketching why this particular crime might mean something to him/her, then BOOM corpse-call.

As I've detailed in a number of other posts here on craft, you find the BEGINNING by finding the point at which the two forces that will conflict to a resolution in this story first come in contact.

That contact is the inciting incident, the Catalyst, the Springboard, the event which subsequently CAUSES everything else that HAPPENS. (things that happen are the plot; things characters learn because of what happens is the story; "because" provides motivation.

Here's where art gets involved.

In a short story, or even a TV show premise, the catalyst can take place BEFORE the story begins.

Take the TV series BURN NOTICE, and listen to the premise stated before each show. The main protagonist is a spy who has been "burned" - his records have been burned; he has no identity, no job, no money, and only whatever friends are still speaking to him to rely on. He does whatever job comes his way, even if it involves helping his mother's friends.

The show is about him trying to get reinstated.

The Catalyst is that he was burned. We never see that happen.

In the Action genre (which editors insist Sf is part of, but we all know it's not), the writer is supposed to open page 1 on ACTION, dive right into the middle of the story.

A good example of opening on combat as the CATALYST for a story is Marion Zimmer Bradley's Spellsword of Darkover which opens on a sword fight in which the protag's side is defeated and he, last standing, runs away -- the rest of the book is about dealing with the shame of that act of fleeing the battlefield.

More usually the action starts after the inciting incident, after the catalyst. The usual definition of catalyst is that NOTHING IS HAPPENING -- all's quiet on the western front -- silence, life is stagnated. BOOM something enters the life from outside, and catalyzes or incites the protagonist to action. In a film, we get 12 minutes (screenplays are rated at 1 page per minute of viewing) to figure out who the protag is and what their problem is (where the black hole in that character resides). Then on page 12 the Catalyst arrives.

I think the reason Snyder used the term CATALYST for this beat is that a catalyst does not participate in the chemical reaction but only provides the environment which makes the reaction inevitable.

So a "catalyst beat" can involve a character or event that really is "outside" the character's life or personality. The catalyst may not be affected by the protagonist's "reaction." It's a broader definition from "Inciting Incident." "Incident" however does imply that it is an event which is off the plot-line.

So after the catalysis, events are exploding, and the protagonist has to scramble to figure out what's going on while trying not to get killed by it.

In the modern Romance, the catalyst can happen before the opening, and the two already can know each other in some context. Now another catalyst drives the relationship in a new direction.

The catalyst should "incite" the protagonist to a) debate b) consult someone (B-story) c) launch into half-assed attempts to cope d) get scragged by the bad guys e) learn his lesson f) take correct definitive action and g) win (or not).

So the catalyst's first effect is to make the protag DOUBT what he knows to be true, what he has rested his whole life on with total tranquility (my Dad will never get old; my Dad doesn't have Alzheimer's).

The story is about re-orienting the character to his new world. Once that's done the story is over.

OK, which catalyst can blast which protag out of which mire in life?

How do you concoct an event that will affect THIS CHARACTER by addressing THAT conflict?

Remember, the Character is the Soul -- all the things that make him/her different from everyone else.

The plot is the NATAL CHART, the beat sheet of his life, that makes his experience of life the same as everyone else's.

Everyone in your readership or audience KNOWS the rhythm of the life-lesson this protag is going to fight his way through.

If you use the Saturn rhythm to teach a Neptune lesson, nobody will believe your story. It'll be tagged implausible.

If you concoct a Neptune (Romance) driven opening event to a Uranus (science) driven plot resolution, nobody will believe the story. That's not a "twist" but a violation of the fox-trot rhythm.

So you have to figure out which life-lesson you're teaching this character, and what the corresponding symbolism is. (Many writers can't do this consciously. But you can program your subconscious to concoct stories with this shape by consciously studying these disciplines and doing writing exercises using them. That's why I always suggest practicing on material that has no commercial value.)

So as you're outlining your story, you can pick from the menu of Vices or Virtues, the plethora of different sorts of manifestations of that planet's symbolism during such-and-so a transit.

But you can't pick at random. You have to take into account the Soul of this character -- what does the Soul know, what has the Soul mastered already, what lesson is this Soul resisting hard?

You can have 2 manifestations of the same transit at once.

Take Pluto transits conjunct the Natal Sun. The protag might be undergoing sanctification as a priest (I'm thinking of Katherine Kurtz's short story The Priesting of Arrilan), and at the same time be attacked violently because of some long-buried crime he committed (or sexual indiscretion).

The question to ask yourself when concocting the plot of a story you have had "an idea" for is, "I know this Soul - so what is the very WORST thing that can happen to him/her?"

Think of the most diabolical, test to destruction, event, and hurl that at the character as a Catalyst. Then find something even worse for the next event.

Find the character's "black hole" -- his weakness, his greed, his need, his torment. Find the Catalyst that awakens that greed and incites the character to reach out and grasp that hope. Once he's hooked, pull him through the story one agonizing inch at a time.

Remember, you can't "fill" a black hole. The life-lesson the protag undergoes has to turn that black hole "vice" (greed for example) into a white hole "virtue" (generosity for example).

The protag has to learn to take the incoming raw energy his natal chart diagrams and "ground it" in reality, create with it, make the world a better place with it.

So, to find a set of classic stories in archetypal form read Grant Lewi's classic pair of books, HEAVEN KNOWS WHAT and ASTROLOGY FOR THE MILLIONS which outline the natal resources typical of various sun/moon combinations, and how the Saturn cycle (and Uranus cycle) works the same for everyone, but always looks different depending on the Sun/Moon blend.

Heaven Knows What (Llewellyn's Popular Astrology Series)

But apparently ASTROLOGY FOR THE MILLIONS (with the Saturn cycle described) is out of print right now. So here's Amazon's Grant Lewi page

Grant Lewi's books

You won't find the treasure-trove of usable writer's plots and life-beat-sheets in just any other Astrology books, but many of them do have useful summaries. Linda Goodman's Sun Signs is another good one.

I'm citing Grant Lewi because his explanations are very SIMPLE and aimed at non-astrologers. I wouldn't want you to have to learn astrology in order to do this simple bit of writing craft.

Also Grant Lewi wasn't a grifter selling astrology as snake-oil. His work, is, however maddeningly sexist and infuriatingly obsolete. For a writer those two traits can be a big plus!

Astrology is the beat sheet of life.

Grant Lewi's work shows how that can be useful to a writer in a unique way (I own a lot of astrology books. Lewi is cited by many but paralleled by none). Noel Tyl's work is way too technical for this.

Astrology can tell you what the lessons to be learned are, and at what age those lessons will be driven home by events (i.e. what the timing of a catalyst event for a particular person would be and what sort of energy would carry that event into the life's pattern).

Mark Schulman's Karmic Astrology series gives very neat life-plots that will ring-true to any reader who walks a mile in your character's moccasins. My favorite is The Moon's Nodes and Reincarnation:

Karmic Astrology, Volume 1: The Moon's Nodes and Reincarnation (Karmic Astrology)

It doesn't matter whether you "believe" in astrology or any of this. The summations of life-stories have been compiled over thousands of years, sifted, refined, distilled into patterns, archetypes, that any reader of your books will instantly RECOGNIZE as "real" -- and therefore be able to suspend disbelief about the rest of your fantasy world.

Using astrology in this "off the nose" way provides verisimilitude, yes, and plausibility. In professorial circles that's called an "objective correlative" -- a character the reader can become, identify with, and aspire to be, pretend to be, or really enjoy hating.

Using astrology this way allows your reader to experience what it feels like to have their black-hole shrunk if not vanquished. Of course, as I've said many times, astrology isn't the only study that can help a writer create this effect. In fact, it's likely the least used of all such tools. But there's a reason there are so many astrologers and Tarot readers in Hollywood.

Astrology and Tarot are about the art of life, not life itself. It's about the art of living, not living itself.

Astrology can not tell you what the events of a life actually are or how any given type of person will respond to a given challenge.

For example: some people respond to a given 6th House transit by attaining employment success, and others respond to the same transit by becoming critically ill. Still others respond by experiencing both these events simultaneously (they make great protagonists; Harry Dresden of THE DRESDEN FILES is that kind of character).

The part of your destiny that matters to you is not written in the stars. The part of the story that engages the reader is not written in the stars.

The part that is written in the stars is the rhythm, rhyme and REASON.

The part that's written in the stars is the part the reader (just like real people living real lives) will never know is there (if you do it right). The part that's written in the stars is the poetry. It makes your bone marrow shiver to apprehend this simple fact.

People who know Astrology is bunkum know that bad luck comes in threes, and that age 29 is a bear to live through. They know that Lady Luck (Jupiter) is fickle. They know that people commit crimes of passion (Mars and Pluto) and it's a once-in-a-lifetime event. But of course, astrology is bunk and if you use the word, everything you say is invalidated. Still they know the happiest year of their life (Solar Arc Venus to the Natal Sun -- the movie DIRTY DANCING) was unique.

Do you as a writer really want your readers to know what astrology is really good for?

Jacqueline Lichtenberg
http://jacquelinelichtenberg.com

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

The Cycles and the Seasons

Margaret Carter raised an interesting point in her New Year's post.

http://aliendjinnromances.blogspot.com/2009/01/happy-new-year.html

All of Earth's cultures have noticed we have a "year" -- a solar year, or cycle, and picked a point of the circle for a "beginning" of the year -- and made that a celebration of some sort. Fiction worldbuilders writing for an Earth audience have to take this kind of celebration into account when creating alien cultures - and romances across that cultural gap.

Also this year the standards authorities have brought to our attention that the Earth's rotation is slowing, and this year the master timekeeping standard atomic clock was adjusted another second.

We've only been able to measure accurately for a little while, so presumably the slowing has been going on since Earth began rotating.

Still, the Day is part of the Year cycle. The slowing, the lengthening of the Day and year, indicates a kind of non-permanence about our situation on Earth and around this star. Time is elastic. What changes can begin -- and end. The slowing of the Earth's rotation puts a whole 'nother spin on things.

In the Torah, the Creator of the Universe assigns the proclamation of the New Moon, and the New Year to the human venue. We are responsible for choosing the marking and celebrating of TIME itself -- and as Margaret pointed out, all our cultures create and innovate on how to do this. But NONE of these cultures have chosen "wrong" -- they're all "right" -- all at least OK. Because it's the human prerogative to divide and mark the cycles of Time.

From the human perspective, we all know "time" is "relative." The 20 minute wait in the dentist's office is much longer than the 20 minutes spent watching your favorite movie, or bedding your lover.

If Time were to be absolutely regular and objective, the Creator could have just assigned the cycles and markers to suit Himself. But now, only NOW, we discover that Earth's spin is not precisely repeating. No two years are alike. And it's up to us to call the end and beginning of cycles.

More than that, we now understand how our Sun fits into a spinning Galaxy that's moving through space.

In truth, no two successive years (days or months or any other cycle) are THE SAME. There actually is no "repetition" -- yet we are given the responsibility to mark the anniversaries of a death of a close relative, and other Events that are featured in our personal and collective History. All our cultures and religions have a year's calendar of Holidays commemorating such Events.

Yet the Earth is never -- ever -- in the same place twice. Even in the billions of years it takes a Galaxy to rotate completely, the Galaxy has moved through space and the suns do not come back to the same "place" in space-time.

I used the galaxy's rotation and move through space in setting up the backstory of two novels (now available on fictionwise.com as e-books as well as used on Amazon) - Molt Brother and City of a Million Legends.

Each moment of life is unique. Imagine that.

Margaret brought up one of my favorite novels by Robert A. Heinlein, Time For The Stars, where twins are used to communicate telepathically from Earth to FTL ships.

That reminded me suddenly of a wonderful little book -- HOW TO BUILD A TIME MACHINE by Paul Davies, from Penguin Books paperback 2001 -- reprinted through 2003.

I don't know if this book is still available. It might be woefully out of date with respect to the newest discoveries in astrophysics. But that wouldn't matter to worldbuilders writing fiction.

HOW TO BUILD A TIME MACHINE is popular physics which explains clearly in layman's terms how it is that there can never be any such thing as simultaneity at interstellar distances.

Gravity distorts space-time in such a way that the galactic civilizations we write about really can't exist or function as we describe them -- as analogues of Earth at the time of sailing ships.

My mind is still absolutely dizzy about this concept. Even Robert E. Forward (an astrophysicist) in order to write a good novel had to kind of cheat his way around this concept.

And then a couple years ago I took a course which I've mentioned many times in blogs and my review column ( http://www.simegen.com/reviews/rereadablebooks/2007/ ) and which led to a series of 6 review columns which I called the Soul Time Hypothesis. Those 6 review columns presenting this concept of the relationship between the Soul and Time became the basis of a course I gave in the Spring of 2008.

The mind-boggler is that the soul enters manifest reality through the dimension of Time.

Physicists obsess on measuring Time because it's a factor in almost all the key equations that describe the physical universe. So possibly they'll keep on studying and finally discover that the non-simultaneity concept has to be changed to something more amenable to SF writing. After all, physics said FTL travel is impossible, but we write about it. And physics said matter-transmission is impossible, but it's been done in the Lab (albeit on sub-microscopic particles). So maybe there's hope for writers.

Maybe, by writing such imaginings, getting others to imagine the universe CAN have simultaneous effects on events across galaxies. Maybe we can actually change the way the universe works? If Time is so plastic -- maybe other things are likewise responsive to human imagination? That was the theory behind Marion Zimmer Bradley's MISTS OF AVALON - a wonderful novel of Arthurian Legend's women.

Or alternatively, the power of the human imagination to change the functioning of the physical universe could become the reason that galactic aliens want to destroy Earth and all humans? What a threat - our novels alter THEIR reality! What a Helen of Troy lovestory!

Actually, I approached that idea sidewise in my novel DREAMSPY. But I fudged the physics with a little magic. Anyone know another novel that plays with that concept?

I don't really know how to "worldbuild" myself a universe strictly based on the non-simultaneity concept that includes the Soul-Time Hypothesis and that would work for a novel's background. Yet more than likely a blending of those two ideas would depict our objective reality (if there is such a thing) much better than any novelist has yet managed.

Well, then maybe the key for writers is to create some Aliens who do understand the universe in that blended way - non-Simultaneity plus Soul-Time, and just proceed from there?

Oh, wait -- actually, I think Edward E. ("Doc") Smith did that with the Lensman Series and his Arisians vs. Boskone war that stretched over millenia. I read all those books when I was in grammar school and High School, and they made a deep impression on me. They're still available in a recent reprint.

I haven't seen anything even remotely similar lately. If you have, please drop a note about them on the comments here. But don't forget that the Lensman Series had the first really HOT romance in the space-travel SF field. I've always wished I had auburn hair.

Jacqueline Lichtenberg
http://www.simegen.com/jl/
http://www.slantedconcept.com

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Source of the Expository Lump

I was recently asked to evaluate the first 2 chapters of a novel which I have watched this author develop. It's main target is to become a TV Series -- and I believe the premise has the potential to draw in Star Trek, Babylon 5, and Battlestar Galactica (2) fans.

The premise is rich, deep and broad, the worldbuilding meticulous, the scope nearly infinite. It could be a huge story writ on a galactic canvas (like The Lensman Series) or more like Dallas, mostly set in one place (this solar system) but about the people and inter-related families.

The concept is dazzling, the flexibility of the material designed to allow many authors to contribute. I've seen some of the outline and "bible" material, and I'm entranced.

So I was delighted to get electronic copy of the first 2 chapters in novel style that I could read on my Palm.

Right off, I fell into Writing Teacher mode, being more "critical" than I would be if I were reading this for review. And you all know how picky I am about books I review! Can you imagine being the target of my "find something wrong" mode of reading? Ouch.

Still, because I love the premise as much as this author does, I avidly devoured the first 2 chapters. It helped that I was sitting in a) a dentist waiting room, and then b) a car repair shop waiting room. When I finished, I stared at the wall a while before I decided what exactly I was noticing in this first draft manuscript.

A final draft should read in such a way that the Writing Teacher mode never notices anything.

The story should unfold beat by beat, each beat where it belongs but the content leaping with flames of delight. The author should be invisible; the story vivid.

One doesn't expect that in first draft. First drafts are for debugging. So I read looking for bugs.

The sentence, paragraph and word-choice work in this first draft is top drawer professional. The visual descriptions will make any producer salivate. As I said before, the worldbuilding is superb. The characters are likewise, vivid and well rounded, deep and fundamentally interesting. What is presented in the first 2 chapters is intriguing.

So what's WRONG? Why is this text dragging? Why don't the characters leap off the page? Why won't it translate in my mind into a script? What rules is it violating?

OK, as I was reading, I mentally marked out paragraphs for deletion because they were EXPOSITORY LUMPS. But this is first draft material. Any writer, however experienced, passes some Lumps when drafting an opening. You just delete them, or shred them and sprinkle throughout the rest of the story, and what's left is usually a fantastic opening.

Rewriting is no big deal. You expect to do that, and it's largely a mechanical exercise when it comes to curing the lumpiness of a piece of goods. In fact, the classic cure is to move the opening scene to a later point in the story, skipping over the throat-clearing and pencil sharpening.

But this particular 2 chapter opening is "right" for the story this author is telling. Two conflicting elements smash together explosively kicking off a huge Interplanetary War Story.

But the whole thing just does not WORK. Why?

Well, when you delete ALL the Expository Lumps in this 2 chapter opening, you haven't got anything left that's 2 chapters long. Nothing happens. It's all "about to happen" -- not happened and creating consequences. There's no because-line; no plot line.

The author has told me how much FUN it is to be writing this story at last. It's exciting and fulfilling and very real. The characters are jumping up and down to get their story told.

Well. That is the problem, you see. The author has held back on writing the story while the background develops, fleshes out, becomes dimensional. The characters have lives and histories, and backstory-gallore. The politics, history, technological advances (this is set in a near future century when humans have colonized the solar system) and elaborate backstory on the colonization and its politics.

The source of the expository lump is the author's own familiarity with the material.
The author knows too much. The author started to write the story too late in the creation process. Screenwriting books warn over and over about starting to write too early in the creation process. These 2 chapters are an example of what happens when you start too late.

Both too soon and too early result in just about the same kind of unusable text, delineated with TELL rather than SHOW. Both result in a text sequence that weights every detail with the same importance, instead of prioritizing.

If the writer doesn't yet know the world, the writing process turns into worldbuilding block by block of impenetrable prose about the background instead of storytelling. If the writer knows the world too well, the writer is afraid the reader won't understand the story without all that the writer knows, so writing turns into an info-dump instead of storytelling.

And that, in essence, is what an Expository Lump is -- some rich-delicious detail that the writer wants the reader to know all about IN ORDER TO UNDERSTAND the emotional, strategic, and political import of the events in the character's life.

The reason these events are important is TOLD rather than SHOWN (or dramatized).

Exposition is "about" the facts, an explanation of the facts. It is what the writer thinks the reader needs to know before starting the story or getting on with the events that form the because-line of the plot.

Exposition is the data that goes into the equation, not the equation itself (the plot and story are two variables in the equation that is a work of fiction). The equation is the problem the reader is working in his mind while the writer feeds in the data. Exposition doesn't register with a reader as data and isn't put into the equation.

Exposition is rhetoric laced with opinion, slant, and possibly the omniscient point of view. It is everything the character already knows before the reader arrives.

http://www.thefreedictionary.com/exposition gives a more dictionary sort of definition. Exposition is the writer's effort to make the reader understand "things" the exact same way the writer does.

The writer wants very much to share this vision, this story, this imagined world with the reader.

The writer wants to draw the reader in to the dreamscape using photographic reality. And the writer desperately wants the reader to enter into the exact dreamscape the writer is in. It has to be THE SAME DREAMSCAPE, so therefore everything (absolutely everything) has to be described in detail and explained back to twenty years before the story starts (or twenty centuries).

But in order to gain entree into the dreamscape, the reader needs a Japanese Brush Painting of the "reality" the writer has created -- not a digital photograph with sharp detail.

New writers (and experienced, published writers just starting a new project) can't do this -- simply CAN not do brush-painting style evocation.

Why?

Because without all the relevant details, the reader MIGHT NOT GET IT.

The reader might make other assumptions, mistake the hero for the villain, or think the main character is behaving without sufficient motivation.

Motivations have to be explained -- in exposition. Because otherwise, the reader might guess wrong!

Exposition says, "This is MY story and you have to understand it MY WAY - or otherwise don't read my story."

Marion Zimmer Bradley taught me to understand that expository lumps come from the writer standing in the "wrong place" to tell the story. She called this kind of overly detailed storytelling "self-indulgent." The writer is standing in a self-indulgent psychological space -- demanding the reader enter into the writer's own story, and no other.

Being jarred out of that "place" is what makes a talented amateur into a seasoned professional writer.

There is a knack, and a talent, and also a learned skill to handling expository lumps.

You can never avoid depositing them on your page. You must learn to handle them.

The skill part is learning to dissect a lump into its component parts, preferably even before you've finished inputting the entire lump in words.

Recognizing you are passing a lump is just a matter of practice. The more diligently you rewrite, the more your subconscious will learn to recognize something "wrong" before you finish entering it. But sometimes you have to finish writing the lump before you know what to do with it.

Lumps consist of "important" and even "vital" information the reader actually wants all twined around stuff the reader isn't (yet) ready for.

There can be elements of the characters' backstory -- who the father was, when the mother died and of what University they all went to -- things about the character's backstory that are characterization, motivation, color, and even worldbuilding (such as this alien species marries and raises children before going to grammar school).

There can be elements of politics, office or national level, perhaps what political party the character is registered in, or how the career was blunted because of supporting the wrong person for promotion.

There can be elements of description -- how the room is furnished, floor plan of the apartment, what's visible out the window, what people are wearing (which can also be worldbuilding), what type of computer or handheld device, how clean or dirty things are, what kind of music is playing.

There can be the reasons why things are the way they are in this scene -- and those reasons can involve other characters, other places, decisions made and executed long ago or recently. Lumps usually refer to things, issues, and situations that are "offstage" -- thus theoretical and abstract to the reader who hasn't yet been "backstage" of this story.

Those categories of expository lump material are not the only categories. And a clever writer can disguise all that in a nicely flowing narrative that is interesting and engaging. So how do you test your own words to see if you've committed a Lump?

A) identify WHY you wrote that particular information in exactly this particular place. If it is because YOU want the reader to know it; delete it.

B) identify WHY you think the reader is dying to know this information. Find where you've created suspense on this issue prior to this point.

C) consider if there is any other way to convey this information to the reader. What would it take to convert that ONE PARAGRAPH into "show" rather than "tell?" A whole chapter maybe? Another whole character with speaking part?

D) delete the Lump and reread the whole story again a few days later. If you can't retype the Lump into the story without looking at what you deleted, then it shouldn't be added back.

The first mistake new writers make is to misplace information. The expository lump in Chapter One may in fact contain vital information to make Chapter 10 work, but that doesn't mean it belongs in Chapter One. There is a "rule" for conveying information to a reader without causing the reader boredom, impatience, or pain.

The rule in information feed is FIRST MAKE THE READER CURIOUS. Then make the reader even more curious. Ratchet up the suspense.

If there's something you, the writer, desperately need the reader to know, DON'T TELL IT.

Withhold that information until you feel the suspense in your own gut. Use characters and events, deeds and decoration, red herrings, but mostly foreshadowing to create suspense. Set up a question the answer to which lies in the information, but don't answer the question until the right moment.

Read up on writing craft techniques for creating suspense. Draw the suspense TIGHT, and then tighter, until when you break the suspense by presenting the tidbit of information, the reader is so relieved to find out that it's pleasure not pain to learn it.

Remember, people come to read fiction for pleasure. Don't make them work at it. Make it fun!

Play the game with the reader. You've read a good book or two; you know what that game is.

It's FUN!

So the process of breaking up a lump requires you to tease it apart until all the facts you've included stand separately. (some people would write down a list) Identify why you think the reader is dying to know each item on the list -- and most importantly, why you want the reader to know, and know it right now -- or maybe later will do.

Consider what the reader might imagine if you don't give the information.

Try leaving the information out. That will leave space for the reader to fill in the color, the backstory, the characterization, the details and make the world their own. If you don't know what I'm talking about, go watch some TV shows that have reams of fan fiction posted about them -- then go read the fan fiction that fills in the gaps from the televised show.

That's what readers pay writers for -- to unleash their own imagination, not to demonstrate the writers'imagination.

Marion Zimmer Bradley often repeated the quote, "The story the reader reads is not the story the writer wrote." I don't have the original attribution handy, but it was an important point she made often.

The grim reality is that readers don't want to read YOUR story.

Readers want to experience their own story their own way. You, as writer, are there only to provide the template for the entertainment -- you are the band playing the dance music, not the dance instructor leading everyone's moves on the dance floor. So don't provide too much detail and discipline -- open up the vision with a few brief, artistically chosen details so that the reader fills in the rest and makes your story their own.

In my Tuesday Aug. 19, 2008 post

http://aliendjinnromances.blogspot.com/2008/08/wrting-as-artform-performing-art.html

I talked at length about how writing is a performing art. When you commit an Expository Lump, you are not performing, you're listening to the prompter (your own imagination) whisper your lines then repeating them in a dull monotone.

When it comes to backstory, you have many tools beyond exposition.

You have dialogue, sparse brush painting style description, actions (actors call it business) that speak louder than words, and narrative. Don't forget flashback, but that's a real tricky technique. Even though you move back in time, you must keep the story moving forward.

Marion Zimmer Bradley often described exposition as the writer popping up out of the paper to stand on the page, blow a whistle, and call TIME OUT while the writer explains the story to the reader, thus blowing the reader's suspension of disbelief, destroying the dreamy mood, peeling the readers' feet out of the characters' moccasins, and basically ruining the whole thing. The writer's "style" pre-empts the reader's imagination. So now the story is no longer fun to read.

So after deleting everything you possibly can from your Lump (keep the trimmings aside in a note file because you probably will need to put it in later; just because you're deleting it doesn't mean you're scrapping it), convert the rest of the Lump that really has to go here to Show rather than Tell.

Yes, this will take many more words and make the story longer, may require another character, or even a sub-plot and additional chapters. So you must choose with your artistic senses what to discard and what to show. Show only those things that really ADVANCE THE PLOT forward.

The key to choosing which details to expound upon and which to delete (even though in your mind's eye, you see the deleted ones -- the reader gets to choose their own details) is your THEME.

Any detail from your Lump which illustrates the theme can stay if you really need it to advance the plot. Any detail which does not illustrate or explicate the theme has to go no matter what else you have to change. Everything in the composition must explicate the theme(s) of this particular piece. Otherwise, what you've produced isn't art, nevermind performing art.

So now we see that Expository Lumps destroy the reader's enjoyment because they force the reader to see it your way while what the reader is paying you for is to stoke up their own imagination so they can see it their own way.

But the reader is also paying for a rip-roaring good story, and that means a story that moves, a plot that rocks!

How do you achieve that with all this background to stuff into the reader's head?

Keep in mind one of my simple definitions I've repeated many times here.

Action = Rate Of Change of Situation. Or PACING = Rate of Change of Situation.

Hollywood has set the standard for pacing in all genres. Novels now are hitting this standard, too. I review, remember. I read lots of books. Change has happened.

The Situation must change materially every 3 pages of script (according to several courses I've taken recently) -- or in a book every 3 pages of manuscript (or about every 750 words which is a rule I learned from A. E. Van Vogt in the 1950's and it has become the rule today.)

With a discipline like that, you won't produce any expository lumps because during a Lump the Situation can't change.

In fact, that's a good definition of Lump. It's a lump because it stops the flow of the story, the changes that generate the plot. Events don't "happen" inside a Lump. A Lump tells you about events that aren't happening right now or to these people.

And that's a good test to see if a paragraph is an Expository Lump or not. If the Situation of the plot has changed during that paragraph (not the reader's understanding of the Situation, but the actual Situation as the main character sees it) then it's not a Lump.

Jacqueline Lichtenberg

http://www.slantedconcept.com/

http://www.simegen.com/jl/

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Prologues and Spoilers

I dropped a comment on Cindy's very provocative Saturday post (see below) on Prologues and Epilogues, and another on Linnea's post for Monday, preceding this post.

I didn't mention that if you use a "prologue" you really should also need (because of the story structure) an "epilogue".

As a reviewer, I generally see "Prologue" and flip back to look for an "Epilogue" before deciding whether to read the prologue, and if there's an epilogue I read it first, then flip to the prologue to see if it matches correctly. If there is no epilogue, I don't read the prologue. Or if the epilogue is not a natural follow on from the prologue, I don't read the prologue.

When I come to a point in the story that needs the information in the prologue, I might consult the prologue -- or I might just set the book aside unfinished if it's too flawed to review.

You see, what generally goes into a prologue (especially one required by an editor who doesn't know how to "fix" your manuscript in time for publication) is what is usually labeled a "spoiler."

"Spoiler" is a term that cropped up at the beginnings of the Internet when fans began discussing books, film and TV across time zones. It turned out that a number of people feel it "spoils" a story to know what is going to happen.

Classic literature that uses the prologue/epilogue structure telegraphs to the reader that this character will or won't survive, that the events of the story are actually caused by or interfered with from someone else in some other place or time, or that sets up the reader to understand the characters before the story begins instead of unfolding their quirks one at a time during a smooth flowing narrative.

The prologue/ epilogue structure was invented because most people's story-enjoyment is enriched and enhanced by knowing what is going to happen before they've read the story.

If knowing the key shocker or twist event of a story "spoils" the effect of the story, then why do audiences flock to performances of Shakespeare's plays? Why do congregations read the same portions of the Bible over and over in a yearly cycle? Why did Star Trek and Star Wars fans fill movie theaters again and again, chanting the words with the characters?

Why do people, battered and bruised from a week's work, curl up with an old movie they've seen a dozen times? Why do people buy DVDs of films they've seen in the theater? Why do people buy the book before going to see the film? Why do theaters fill for classical ballet performances? Why does TV rerun series episodes? And why do people re-read novels?

Such human behavior telegraphs that repetition enriches the experience, that knowing before hand what is going to happen doesn't spoil it but actually increases the impact and thus the enjoyment.

Well-designed prologue/epilogue bookends tell you whether the writer knows what they're doing with the specific story-form, and thus whether the story between them is worth your precious time to read.

They tell you what that story is about, and what the major change is going to be. But they don't tell you how it happens or what it feels like to undergo that change. A good prologue/ epilogue pair sets the reader up to thoroughly enjoy the story and come back to read it again and again.

Finding a writer who can handle the prologue/epilogue pairing is like finding a great restaurant. The steak was great - let's have the stew next time. You come back again and again to the source, read the book over and over, savour that prologue and epilogue in depth and yearn for sequels.

People disparage the Romance field, the SF and Fantasy fields, and inexplicably the SFR or Alien Romance field as fluff, escapist, no-account waste of time garbage.

But the truth is, enduring classics in these fields, and most especially in SFR and Alien Romance, are not only possible, but currently hitting the market. This cross-genre field is building up to become a source of important classics for future generations to study.

The hallmark of a classic is that it is re-readable and speaks to the essentials of human nature even across generations. That even when you know exactly what's going to happen, you still get "in the mood" to reread that book, and you savour it more each time.

Now you can argue that the reason for this re-read - rerun phenomenon is that people want to relive that moment when they first hit the shocker of a twist without warning. And thus warning someone before hand "spoils" that moment, vitiates the impact, and therefore they will never re-read the work.

But if that were true, why would schools teach ABOUT King Lear before taking the class to see the play? Or examine the plot of SWAN LAKE before taking the class to see the ballet?

The only instance I can think of where knowing the twist or who dies or what the shocker moment is SPOILS the enjoyment of the film or book is when the film or book consists of nothing but the twist, shocker, or surprise ending.

A mystery is not spoiled by knowing who the killer is (you're supposed to figure it out before the detective does) -- unless that's ALL the enjoyment the story can deliver.

A mystery is about the psychological duel between perpetrator and detective, and it is the duel, the search for clues, and the personality of the detective (and perp) that makes it interesting.

An "open form" mystery like COLOMBO has a "prologue" where the murder takes place, then Colombo comes and solves it, but we don't usually see the "epilogue" of the court sentencing. We're supposed to imagine the epilogue to make room for commercials.

PERRY MASON showed the murder, then the solving, then the court battle (usually, not always in that order) because Mason was a defense lawyer, not the detective per se. It is the HOW the wrong person was charged, and how that person was exonerated that is interesting.

If the "how" was not the interesting part, why would reprints of Sherlock Holmes still be available? Why would that antiquated Detective Series be made into a TV series with Jeremy Brett starring as Sherlock Holmes? Why would "Murder She Wrote" reruns be on almost as much as "I Love Lucy?"

Lucy is funny even when you already know what the gag line will be at the end. How can that be if it's been "spoiled" by the fact that you know what will happen in advance.

Knowing the answer, the twist, the shocker, does not spoil the mystery, comedy, or drama -- and it does not spoil any story -- unless the story is essentially worthless to begin with.

To expect that if you know a plot twist your enjoyment will be spoiled is to reveal that you prefer to indulge in worthless literature, just as our detractors accuse us of doing when reading SFR or AR -- or SF or Fantasy.

A classic is never damaged by foreknowledge among the readers/viewers. That's the very definition of "classic" -- and in this day and age, there's no reason to spend your time reading anything that isn't of the classic caliber. There are more classics out there than you can read in a lifetime.

Thus the title of my review column is ReReadable Books -- I review books that have that "classic" profile, and that thus can not be "spoiled" by revealing the shocker, the twist, the who dies and who survives, elements of the plot.

So you will find "spoilers" in my column. If that distresses you, you can find the list of books to be reviewed in future months on the column's website and read the books before reading the reviews. In fact, the column is designed for people to get the most out of it by pre-reading the books I "re" view.

In my column, I discuss the invisible links between and among books, TV shows, films, and even non-fiction. The individual works discussed are not nearly as important as the light that each sheds upon the other. I generally don't discuss books in depth in my column if they weren't "classic" material that can't be "spoiled" by knowing some of the content before hand.

I do discuss a few proto-classics, books that are leading an entire field or sub-genre toward producing those treasured and timeless classics. These books, while not classics themselves, are of interest to writers who want to contribute to the shaping of a new classic field. And they aren't easy to "spoil" either.

I generally single out bits of content that might tell the reader whether they want to read that book, or not. And usually there's enough lead time between when the list of books to be discussed is posted online and when the column itself goes up that you can find the books at the library rather than buying them.

For me, the real enjoyment of fiction comes from savouring compositions formed of groups and lists of works. That's because I see the universe as a single unit, an indivisible whole, and I love finding the underlying unifying characteristics of what appear to be disparate, individual things.

If you like that, come look over my column (it's free).

http://www.simegen.com/reviews/rereadablebooks/2008/

Join the List from that page to be informed when new to-review lists are posted.

Use the left hand nav-bar to look back at columns to 1993. Just because the books are "old" doesn't necessarily mean they're "spoiled."

Jacqueline Lichtenberg
http://www.simegen.com/jl/

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Alien Romance

I'm prepending a comment on the "Great First Lines" discussion, then my own post on the definition of Alien Romance, or maybe SFR. They're sort-of related.

For my money, the single most grabbing "first line" I have ever encountered (in countless thousands of books read) is Marion Zimmer Bradley's opening to the original SWORD OF ALDONES (not the rewrite SHARRA'S EXILE).

We were outstripping the night.

Why is that a great first line?

Because it bespeaks the essential theme, the pacing of the novel, and delivers that same sense of motion without knowing where you came from or where you're going that the novel does. The novel delivers on the promise of the first line, and that is what makes it a grabber.

A slushpile reader is trained to look at the FIRST LINE - then compare it to THE LAST LINE -- split the MS and look at the MIDDLE. If the 3 points don't match, the MS does not get read, it gets rejected.

So it's not "great first lines" that is the real challenge. It's crafting a first line that bespeaks the essence of the story at the thematic level.

There is a method of achieving this effect which MZB beat into my reluctant head and I finally formulated into a style of working that I can grasp. Maybe this will help you, too.

Ask yourself WHY DO I WANT TO WRITE THIS NOVEL?

The reason why you want to write the novel or story is the reason why people would want to read it. But you can't simply state that reason. You have to ENCODE it in SHOW DON'T TELL using foreshadowing and symbology, art and craft welded together.

Now armed with the answer to that arcane question, you search for the beginning of the main character's story. You have to run up and down that character's whole life and ask yourself, WHERE IS THE STORY? You have to ask, "WHAT EVENT SEQUENCE CHANGES THIS CHARACTER IRREVOCABLY?"

Each real life has such a point (can be 3-4 years even). Some of us do change under that influence - and we have a "story of our life" - others don't change and meet a different fate because of that choice.

The FIRST LINE and FIRST PARAG of a novel (not, interestingly enough, of a screenplay) are composed of the the point in time & awareness when the character is jolted out of his/her former life, and dumped into his/her next life.

The OPENING SITUATION of a novel is composed of the point in the main character's life where the CONFLICT IS JOINED -- where the CONFLICT BEGINS -- where CHANGE BEGINS. (this is also the key to writing great biographies.)

Thus in the typical romance the cliche opening is where the main POV character first sees or encounters the love-object or some effect that love-object has left in his/her wake.

The mistake most beginning writers make in choosing a protagonist and in finding the point where that person's story BEGINS (and thus the opening line of the novel) is to fail to spot, identify, and express the conflict. Or the reverse, knowing the conflict but failing to discover which of the ensemble characters HAS that conflict and is therefore the protagonist because that is the person who will resolve that particular conflict. (all these story components are related, and that relationship is expressed in the perfect opening line, the narrative hook.)

As a result of that failure to find character and conflict, the new writer will open their composition with a long, rambling, abstract history lesson setting out the parameters of their made-up universe, the long life histories of the characters, the politics and everything else that has nothing to do with the conflict.

This preamble is all material the writer feels the reader has to know BEFORE being able to understand or enjoy the story. This opening expository lump happens because the writer doesn't know the craft techniques I call "information feed."

No matter how clever or engrossing or startling the first line is -- that expository lump method is bound to fail.

Why? Because someone looking for a story is, whether they know it or not, looking for a conflict that can be resolved a number of ways -- and the story is about which way this particular person resolves that specific conflict.

Before the reader is ready to memorize the names of all the Empires and relatives of the royal families and the list of all the baddies who want to kill the protagonist, the life history of the person she/he will fall in love with -- BEFORE ALL THAT, the reader has to be made as curious to know those facts as a lover approaching orgasm is eager to GET THERE.

First you have to tease the reader into excitement -- THEN you can inform them, but never using dialogue or exposition. You must encode this information in SHOW DON'T TELL -- which means you must make the reader figure it out for him/herself because they want to know, not because you want them to know.

So the FORMULA for finding that all important opening line that prevents the expository lump of an opening is -

WHY DO I WANT TO WRITE THIS WHOLE STORY?

WHAT IS THE CONFLICT?

WHAT IS THE RESOLUTION OF THE CONFLICT?

WHOSE STORY IS IT?

WHERE DOES THAT STORY START?

WHAT IS THAT STORY IN ONE SENTENCE?

That one sentence is your opening line. It is your pitch for the screenplay. It's the line you use at the SFWA cocktail parties to pitch yourself to an Agent or Editor. It's what sells the thing (and you).

Study each of the suggested opening lines in the previous posts -- analyze them. You won't learn anything, especially not how to produce those lines from the mishmosh story idea in your head.

You can't learn that trick by reverse engineering great opening lines. The greater the line is, the less you can learn by studying it.

Make a pile of your favorite books. Write down the opening line, the last line, and the middle paragraph of each book.

Use this list of questions above and produce your own opening lines (do dozens for stories you will not write). Then rewrite them and rewrite them -- until you can see how you are in fact replicating the EFFECT of the opening lines YOU admired.

The whole rest of the novel is about WHO THAT PROTAGONIST REALLY IS UNDERNEATH IT ALL. And maybe about how the protag finds out who he/she really is, which is often different from who they think they are.

So a fully encoded SHOW DON'T TELL story is all about Identity, and how Identity changes under the impact of EVENTS. IDENTITY change is STORY. EVENTS SEQUENCE is PLOT. I call the Event Sequence the "because" line -- because this happened, that happened, and because of that, this other thing happened. Because this happened, that person did this, which causes this other person to do that. "Because" cross-links the story and the plot so that a reader can't tell the difference.

It's like making soup. You can't replicate your Mom's soup without knowing the ingredients and proportions.

The FIRST EVENT (often psychological not physical, sometimes both) in the plot is hidden (or maybe not so hidden) in the first line. The first Identity Change potential lies nascent in the first line.

"We were outstripping the night." -- flight from dark horrors. WHO? A person being chased by that which is inside himself. RESOLUTION - turning to face that demon, The Shara Matrix. Lew Alton's story -- starts with him returning home to make home strange. Notice "outstripping the night" looks "backwards" or "behind" the character. The entire novel is an unraveling of the true meaning of events long past.

That's SWORD OF ALDONES. Go read it. Study it. It's a masterpiece. But MZB didn't like it because she thought events happen without CAUSE being apparent. I love it because I can imagine the causes. When the reader is prompted to contribute important elements to the fantasy, they become invested in that story - and look up your byline again. Leave room for the reader's imagination.

I learned while interviewing Leonard Nimoy for Star Trek Lives! that this technique of leaving an open spot for the viewer's imagination is called in theater OPEN TEXTURE. It's a technique that makes the characters walk off the page and into the reader's dreams. The opening line sets up that "texture" effect.

So now to today's post! Sorry about the rambling preamble! But I think the previous posts on opening lines were about the art, and about admiring other people's art. This is my contribution to the "craft" -- the part of writing anyone who can write a literate English sentence (As Marion Zimmer Bradley always said) can learn.

----------------------

Yesterday, I had an interesting experience. The mother of a young man in High School had told him to call me for advice about what story to write for a science fiction course he was taking. (???? SF taught in HS? With writing? What an interesting new world.)

Well, this young man is highly proficient in Math and Science -- but really lacking when it comes to writing papers and so on, i.e. verbal skills. And she knew he'd never call me.

So I said, "Well, tell him to go to the definition of SF. 'What if ...? If only ...? If this goes on ....' And start from there. Put one of those in a story, and you might have SF. Put all 3 and you have an award winning SF story."

She memorized the list of springboards, but didn't understand, so I said, "Well, what if Hillary Clinton becomes President? What if she cut science funding to fund health care?" (because the kid likes science and is a kid so doesn't care about healthcare yet)

What if -- Hillary wins? If only -- we had universal health care. If this goes on - we have to cut something to fund healthcare. See?

(Hey you and I know Hillary wouldn't, but that's not the point -- the point is to demonstrate how to use the springboards to create a story that is SF, so some absurdity is required in the premise, then you work it out logically from there. Cutting science to fund healthcare is a contradiction because you need basic science to create new cures -- which is why this would make an SF story. It's fiction about science.)

Well, she went away confident that she can propel her son into writing a story now. It's hard being a mother who can't help with homework.

So then I got to thinking about the definition of SF and remembered I'd forgotten to include the really salient part of the definition. Fred Pohl and John Campbell and Robert Heinlein and Theodore Sturgeon I think, came up with this one in a brainstorming session. (long, long story there)

"If you can take the science out and still have a story, it wasn't SF to begin with."

We use the same test for Star Trek fanfic. If you can take the Star Trek out and still have a ST fan story, it wasn't a ST fan story to begin with, and you should write it in its own universe and sell it. (some writers are doing that successfully now, though the first few attempts failed)

So we come to the problem that really has my attention -- defining Alien Romance.

You all know by now my own attempts at this definition created the premise that there is a Plot Archetype which I dubbed INTIMATE ADVENTURE, the core of ST fanfic. In the 1970's you couldn't buy Intimate Adventure SF/F at Waldenbooks so people paid exorbitant prices for fanzines printed on paper.

http://www.simegen.com/jl/intimateadventure.html

I still think of Intimate Adventure as a genre, but it is actually a Plot Archetype, which my sometime collaborator Professor of English Jean Lorrah has proven.

So that disqualifies it as the "definition" of Alien Romance because I/A is really not a genre. So I'm back to square one trying to define what it is that I actually write.

At the moment, I am working on transposing my Romantic Times Award winning novel, DUSHAU, into script format. So I have my nose into that universe again, and it definitely is Alien Romance -- it's SF Romance with an alien as one of the protags in the Relationship that drives the plot. In the third book, they actually get it on, too.

Appropos of the prepended item on FIRST LINES, the opening of DUSHAU is a parag all in caps, centered above the first paragraph of real text.

THE KAMMINTH OLIAT HAS RETURNED AND IS SCHEDULED TO RECEIVE COLONIZABLE PLANETARY DISCOVERY HONORS. IN THE NAME OF EMPEROR RANTAN, ALL SURVEY BASE PERSONNEL ARE COMMANDED TO ATTEND THE AFTERNOON AUDIENCE.

The protagonist who sees that announcement on her desktop display, responds instantly with total professional outrage, and eventually murders the Emperor because of this opening event. She has to change her loyalties to do that. The student should note what is NOT included in that opening line.

For more on why the accurate definition of the genre is vital to generating a FIRST LINE that will sell the book, see my January column and the review of SAVE THE CAT GOES TO THE MOVIES! by Blake Snyder and my comments on Amazon and on blakesnyder.com blog. It's a huge topic all about Commercial Art as a business.

http://www.simegen.com/reviews/rereadablebooks/2008/

Well, AR always seems to have a "What if ...?" element because you need to cast a universe around the characters. It has an "If only ...?" element because most all Romance does (the yearning for a soul mate), and occasionally AR comes up with an "If this goes on ..." type of prediction.

But what is the TEST to see if this particular novel is AR or not?

It can't be "If you take the romance out and still have a story, then it wasn't AR to begin with." Because that's the test for ROMANCE, not AR.

It might be, "If you take the alien out and still have a romance, then it's not AR?"

But then you come to what constitutes an "alien" -- as I've pointed out previously, humans can be the most bizarre aliens of all.

Take for example Banner's Bonus, by Carol Ann Lee (new author!) at awe-struck.net (for my money, the best e-publisher currently operating).

This book is as well constructed and well written as anything Manhattan publishes. It should be a Mass Market paperback.

Awe-struck.net sells it as SF Romance, but I think that's borderline. I also don't see it as Alien Romance, but it almost is.

This is set in a Star Trek like universe but apparently without non-human aliens (think Firefly). So some humans have been affected by a substance that has left them with Empathy, a trait that breeds true. So they're "alien."

However, halfbreeds have unpredictable half-talent. The particular kickass girl we follow is I think quarter or eight Empath. She believes she has no talent because she was tested. Her mother reads her father extremely well, though, and seems to be "bonded."

Her father hires a tough guy who hauls (interstellar) freight for him to protect his girl from some killers. She's a virgin. She spends weeks isolated in a small space ship with this tough guy, who melts. She (unknown to herself) bonds with him empathically, and thus becomes able to track him when he's kidnapped.

Definitely a Romance, and not too much actual sex. He takes her to the last place in the galaxy anyone would think to search for her -- his family's home. He has brothers - equally tough guys. They see she's bonded with him, even though he and she do not.

The SF universe building seems to me lacking. There is nothing different about the ports they visit, the types of people (crooks, criminals, lowlives, and heroes) they meet, the galactic political situation, the ways people do business -- and nothing at all is made of the mechanics of the space-drive they use, or any other science or technological innovation that might change the way people live their lives (watch a movie made before cell phones, and you'll see what I mean). In fact, their tech is less than we have today.

So the extrapolation of science is lacking. The worldbuilding, that we've discussed on this blog at such length, is a failure in this novel (even though it's a very well written novel.)

The Empathic premise could be something that happened on Earth -- Chernobyl comes to mind. Imports from China. There's no reason inherent in the story that forces the setting into the galaxy. They go from planet to planet as people might go from Southsea Island to China or India or San Francisco. The port bars are about the same. There's nothing galactic in this galaxy.

There's no reason that this story needs space travel. You take out the science, and you still have a story -- it's not SF.

Its "alien" is only human with a genetic twist of empathy that does not dominate or twist her personality, limit or inhibit her abilities, or rebound in any unexpected and unpredictable way making a problem the protags have to surmount (except the old Star Trek fanfic cliche of telepathic bonding) unique to this constructed universe.

It isn't SOLD as Alien Romance, but as SF Romance. Awe-Struck is the best publisher because they're honest and totally up front about their packaging. What you see is what you get.

Banner's Bonus is only just barely "SF" -- and the SF ladled on top like frosting. You can scrape it off.

But underneath the frosting, it's one whale of a good read! It tickles my AR button, but doesn't actually press it.

So what is it I'm really looking for in Alien Romance? What is the real core of the definition without which you do not have an ALIEN Romance?

Banner's Bonus is an example that should reveal the answer to that question. But I don't see it yet. It's a must-read because it's a book to study.

Jacqueline Lichtenberg
http://www.simegen.com/jl/