The Novelwriter's Toolkit Page 2

  Of course, some fiction genres depend on reality. Police mysteries have to have some grain of truth in the way the police force operates. One of the (many) reasons why PD James’ novels are so successful is that she used to work in the Police Department and later the Criminal Policy Department of the Home Office, so she could draw on this experience for the background to her crime novels, even though her imagination creates the plot and characters. This applies to non-genre writing too: Ken Kesey, author of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, once worked on a psychiatric ward, and David Lodge wrote his novel Deaf Sentence, about a man losing his hearing, when the same thing happened to him. This real-life experience brings an authentic background to the fictional stories these authors create.

  Building a Novel

  The very definition of a novel creates expectations. There are certain things that every reader, in every country in the world, expects to find when he or she buys a work of fiction. They include:

  Characters: the people or other beings who inhabit the novel.

  Plot: the road map that takes the characters from one place to another.

  Setting: the world, real or imagined, where the plot takes place.

  Dialogue and narrative: the way all the aspects of the story are expressed.

  Then there are the themes – the ideas or concepts that you want to get across. Is your hero looking for himself by exploring his past? Are you telling a love story in a light-hearted manner, but trying to make a serious point – about loneliness, self-respect or loyalty, for example? Not until you know the answers to these questions can you begin to understand your characters and their goals. And if you don’t understand your characters, you have no chance of writing a good novel.

  WHAT’S IT ALL ABOUT?

  Outlining and Plotting

  How do you find out if your idea for a novel has ‘legs’? You start by taking that idea and seeing if you can turn it into a plot.

  Thinking Your Story Through

  Telling yourself the story of your novel is an effective way of understanding what you want to say and how you want to say it. Many writers treat this exercise as if they were a parent telling a child a bedtime story. They go to bed at night repeating their ideas in an almost once-upon-a-time format. This has the advantage of giving their subconscious a chance to work on the story as well.

  Think about the details of your plot. It is all very well knowing that you want to drive from Exeter to Carlisle, but if you have never done it before and you don’t have a map or a satnav you are likely to get lost. So, you may know who your heroine and your hero are and that they are going to end up together, but what is going to happen to them along the way?

  What If …?

  A writer should always be asking, ‘What if …?’ or ‘What happens?’ These questions are the catalyst for the thought processes that develop plot, character and setting.

  What happens when a bored housewife goes on holiday to Greece and meets a sweet-talking con man? Or when a gangster falls in love with a girl from the other side of town? Questions like this can give you the beginning of a plot, but so can such day-to-day activities as going for a bike ride (what happens if you get a flat tyre in the middle of nowhere and a stranger offers you a lift?), going to work (what happens when a new colleague starts muscling in on your job?) or going to the local coffee shop (what happens if two strangers strike up a conversation?).

  All these starting points can be used to spark stories of love, hate or redemption. It’s up to you to stretch that idea to make a story, to build a framework on which your novel can depend. That first question may have got you going, but thousands of other questions must follow: what happens when the people in the coffee shop exchange phone numbers? What happens when it is not the girl in the coffee shop but her flat mate who answers the phone? And so on.

  Don’t be afraid to question your plot. Make sure every aspect of it makes sense. If the answers to your questions aren’t in there, think about them and add them. Give your plot depth and clarity. After all, if you don’t understand what is going on, you can’t expect your readers to.

  Why: Motivations and Explanations

  As the creator of the world that becomes your novel, it’s important for you to ask why. Just because you think of a basic plot, that doesn’t mean you’ll instantly understand every aspect of what takes place over the next 80,000 words. Whether you are dealing with a murder or a trip to the moon, it’s important to know why what is happening is happening in the story.

  ‘Why?’ is of course a fundamental part of character motivation and we’ll go into that further in the next chapter. But for the moment, imagine that your neighbour has painted his house pink. He’s a quiet man who never causes trouble: what’s he doing with a pink house in a sea of white and grey? Is it a cry for attention? Did he do it for a bet? You may never know, but asking this sort of question begins the process of looking for motivation.

  A writer of murder mysteries may be thinking, ‘It’s to cover up the bloodstain by the back door.’ A science-fiction writer may wonder if the paint is an alien phosphorescent that will tell a passing UFO to pick him up. A mainstream writer will be imagining that this quiet, shy man just wants to be noticed by his uncaring neighbours.

  You can see how asking the same question from different points of view can produce totally different answers and thus totally different plots. The reason your plot flows in any direction may be the result of asking, ‘What if …?’

  Looking for the Weak Spots

  A sure way to find the holes in your story is to hear it read or told aloud. Maybe that’s why so many writers would rather avoid this step and go straight to the computer. Once you’ve seen the hole – in your plot or your characterization or whatever – you feel obliged to patch it; if you never see the hole, you can let yourself believe that it isn’t there.

  As we’ll see in more detail in the next chapter, every realistic, convincing character has flaws: otherwise they become literarily ‘too good to be true’. That isn’t what we are talking about here. The weak spots you are looking for at this stage are the unintentional mistakes that can destroy a book: the sleuth knowing something that he couldn’t possibly know or the plot completely running out of steam before you are halfway through.

  It’s important that the writer knows the explanations behind everything that happens in the novel, even if she hasn’t shared it with the reader – yet. Obviously, most mystery writers know who the killer is from the word go, but they don’t normally tell the reader in the first chapter. But revealing – in that Hercule Poirot-style final scene -that the killer is a character the reader has never heard of before just won’t work. As a writer you aren’t only a creative artist; you are also the master architect of your novel and it is your job to make sure that everything in the story makes sense – otherwise the book will come crashing down round everyone’s ears.

  Here’s one sure way to test if a character or plot point is essential: take it (or him or her) out. If the story collapses, the character or idea is important. If not, you may need to weed it out or build it up to strengthen the work.

  Putting Things Right

  While it may seem impossible to alter an idea that’s already in place, asking ‘What if …?’ helps in that situation as well. Don’t be afraid to make sweeping changes if you find yourself wrestling with something that just isn’t working. What if you altered the setting? What if Paris became New York and the 1890s became the 1920s? Look at it from a different angle and you may come up with something fresh and sparkling.

  This may, of course, mean rethinking a lot of ideas that you felt were concrete. It may mean ditching the research you did into 1890s fashion and music. But although you lose those ideas, you gain new ones. Playing with ideas is much the same as children playing with building blocks. You may cry for a moment when your masterpiece is destroyed, but you move right on to building a new one. The trick is not to fall so deeply in love with any idea that you can’t contempl
ate tearing it apart and putting it back together again. Yes, it will be painful. But what you come up with may be better.

  The writer’s job is not just to write; it’s also to rewrite and rethink and revamp. There are millions of ideas and thousands of words to choose from, and no single one of them is the only perfect option.

  To Plan or Not to Plan?

  The late Sidney Sheldon once said that no author should ever know how the book was going to end. Some writers work that way. They allow the plot to meander like a river until they feel it has reached its goal. They believe that knowing too much about what is going to happen can ruin their creativity and make the book flat.

  You can’t argue with Mr Sheldon’s success, but not all authors would agree. Many prefer to begin with a clear picture of the book’s plot from beginning to end. Sometimes a character or a secondary plot line may not work out the way they envisaged, but overall they know where they’re going and how they want to get there.

  For some people, particularly beginners, having a plan, knowing the goal, is the only way they can hope to finish the project. If you decide to plan your ending, remember you can always change it if you don’t like it. If you decide not to plan and you don’t like what emerges, you can always change that too. All that matters is that you provide your readers with a satisfactory conclusion.

  Be True to Yourself

  Even at this early stage, second opinions can be valuable, but you need to get the opinion of someone you trust. Friends and family members may not be able to give you an honest reaction, for fear of hurting your feelings or because they are so impressed that you are writing a novel at all. Joining a reading or writing group can be a wonderful way to get feedback on your work, but can also be a disaster. Be sure that you are in sync with the people who will be helping you shape your work. It’s not true that a bad critique is better than no critique at all.

  Should you make changes just because someone else tells you that it would be better if you did? Should you make the hero dark instead of fair, or leave out the wedding scene to make the plot move along more briskly? You’re the only one who can make these decisions. But try to look at your work with the objectivity of a surgeon rather than the loving devotion of a parent. Would it benefit from these changes? Would the characters become more believable or the plot more exhilarating? If so, do it. Throw in a little something extra. Make it better.

  Writing Groups

  Aspiring novelist Sara Crowley, spending a lot of her time at home with small children, describes how her online writing group helps her:

  What is missing when you are trying to do it yourself is anyone to bounce ideas off and compare notes with. Your work isn’t being discussed in a group setting, and no teacher is on hand with advice and instructions. Sometimes a storyline is so clear in your head that you can’t imagine anyone not seeing exactly what you mean, and yet I have now learned that this is an incredibly common problem. It is hard to get the necessary distance to see one’s own work with clarity.

  That is where online writers’ groups come in. There are groups, large and small, that operate by posting work online for critique and discussion. The other writers in the group then offer their feedback, which can be an effective way of highlighting issues that you had overlooked. Rewriting your work before sending off submissions means that editors get to see it at its best. Be wary, though, of editing too much and losing sight of your original story just to please those online critics, and remember that all writing is subjective – a person who dislikes your story may simply not be a fan of that particular style.

  Three Recommended Sites for Writers

  Blogger

  WriteWords

  The Workhouse

  Developing Secondary Plots

  Very few novels contain only one plot. A secondary plot can strengthen and add to the main plot, introducing a dilemma or character that adds tension, comedy or complications to the lives of the main characters. It can be used as a red herring to draw readers’ eyes away from what’s really going on. It can be a device that helps to take the main plot where it needs to go. In a romance, a subplot could be a budding relationship between two side characters. The relationship complicates the main romance between the hero and heroine because these secondary characters are their parents.

  It’s not unusual for a novel to contain many different subplots. As long as all the loose ends are tied up by the end of the book, that’s fine. But as you add additional plots, consider how they relate to the main one and how they advance the storyline. You don’t want a side plot that doesn’t have anything to do with telling the main story.

  It’s possible to have too much of a good thing. The plot should never overpower the characters. They should always create their world together.

  HEROES, VILLAINS AND OTHERS

  Creating Your Characters

  Characters make the book. A great character can inspire a series; a less than great one can sink your novel. If you want your novel to work, create characters who will make the reader care what happens to them. The people in your novel must be as real as the people you see and deal with every day.

  It’s impossible to say what makes a character unforgettable. What is it about James Bond that has kept him alive and spying for so long? What makes us remember Philip Marlowe in Raymond Chandler’s detective novels or Jack Ryan in the thrillers of Tom Clancy? Wouldn’t you love to create characters so real, so intriguing that they will be used in countless books and films? Not everyone achieves it, but it is what every writer is striving for when he creates characters.

  Heroes and Villains

  Most novels have at least two main characters – the protagonist, who is the hero (of whichever sex) of the story, and the antagonist, the bad guy who puts obstacles in the way of the hero achieving his goal. Of course in a romance you’ll normally have a hero and a heroine but the novel will probably be written from the heroine’s point of view and for a lot of the time the ‘hero’ may actually be the antagonist – the one who doesn’t realize that he has been in love with the heroine all the time.

  The Protagonist: the Story’s Hero

  If your protagonist is a well-written character, readers will love him. They won’t mind if he’s a little rough round the edges – think Philip Marlowe again – or even if she is her own worst enemy – Jane Austen’s Emma. He or she can be downtrodden but indomitable (Jane Eyre), quirky (John Mortimer’s Horace Rumpole) or downright evil (Hannibal Lecter in The Silence of the Lambs). It doesn’t matter. What the reader wants is a personality so strong, so fascinating, that she can’t look away.

  If your protagonist is to be memorable, readers have to believe that he is capable of dealing with the antagonist and coming out on top. Think of Sherlock Holmes and Professor Moriarty battling it out at the Reichenbach Falls. They have to be able to empathize with him and imagine themselves doing all those remarkable things. Think of Clark Kent, an ordinary, lovable guy when he isn’t being Superman. A good hero can save the world many times over. A bad hero may save the world but no one will remember his name.

  The Antagonist: the Hero’s Nemesis

  This is usually the character that readers love to hate, whether it is Goldfinger versus James Bond or Fagin versus Oliver Twist. But the antagonist doesn’t have to be evil – he’s simply a main character who happens to work against the story’s hero. The best kind of antagonist is one that the hero can stand up to but not easily overpower. In The Silence of the Lambs, Hannibal Lecter is an unforgettable protagonist, but Agent Clarice Starling is his match. He is never really able to overpower her. Thomas Harris’ novel is an unusual – and immensely successful – example of the protagonist, the person around whom the story revolves, being not only a villain but a supervillain, while the antagonist, the one who stands in his way, is on the side of right. But it is because Hannibal is in awe of Clarice, because we see her from that point of view, that we become fascinated with her as well. The result is a strong antagonist character. />
  This can work just as well in the more conventional set-up when the antagonist is the villain. Jim Hawkins is the hero of Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island: he is the book’s narrator and the thrust of the plot is whether or not he will escape from the pirate gang. But the truly charismatic character, the one that everyone remembers, is the antagonist Long John Silver.

  Point of View

  Knowing whose ‘angle’ of the story to give is one of the most difficult things for beginning novelists to get right. Jane Friedman, former editorial director of Writer’s Digest Books in the US, gives this advice:

  Don’t go from first-person point of view (‘I’) to third-person point of view (’he’ or ‘she’) in the same story or novel. Choose one and stick with it. A more difficult problem is switching viewpoints between characters. Beginners should choose one viewpoint character and not switch to another. That means: you may get inside one person’s head (such as your protagonist’s) and relate that person’s feelings throughout the course of the story – but you should never reveal what’s going on inside other characters’ heads. One of the most common problems for new writers is abruptly switching between characters’ viewpoints in the same scene.