In part one, I
showcased how my personal process would apply in making the hypothetical
autobiographical novel, “The Higher Education of James Pressler.” I built out
the premise, laid out the basic plot arc, and demonstrated the three-act
structure. And after all that, I showed how this wasn’t even close
to being ready for writing. Not very nice, but let me continue.
Once we realize what
direction the story is headed, we need to consider some of the basic story elements that
we might not understand before we know the story arc. What is the story’s
genre? Will this be written as a coming-of-age novel? A grown man’s reminiscence
about past mistakes? A dark comedy? A thriller? A mystery? These all require
certain structural techniques, and this will guide every word we type. This
story would have to take on a totally different shape to be a thriller versus
contemporary literature or the young adult genre.
Sometimes this does
not become apparent until we are well into the process of writing, and it can just as easily change in mid-process. I admit
that I have started writing personal stories under the idea that they were
tragic tales of my past, but as the words came together, I saw the humor in
them. I saw the innocent stupidity of someone thinking they could grab the
world by the tail, only to get thrashed about. Life lessons can be painful, but
sometimes the story lies past all that pain. Beyond all that anguish
there’s a very funny story. Maybe not, but that’s why we write out these things
– to discover what we are really getting into.
Once we consider the
genre, we have to think about mood. Thrillers can be dark or energetic; stories
from our past can be moody, confessional, lighthearted or truly sobering. In
that regard, mood is different than genre just as the tempo of music is different than the style of music. Our mood should be the beat for this novel, and I
personally think this current work should be serious but lighthearted, not
taking itself too seriously. That’s how I write my personal stories, but there
are plenty of directions to go.
One of my favorite
authors, Pat Conroy (The Great Santini, The Lords of Discipline, and many more),
wrote stories based on his earlier years. Some were only loosely tied to the past, but his deeper works explored family dysfunction with
writing that could be as painful as self-surgery. However, for him this was a
healing process, particularly considering he wrote about problems he had with
family members who were in fact still alive. The Great Santini was a scathing
novel about living under the parenting of a discipline-obsessed tyrant, based
on his own father. Despite the friction it caused within the family, in the end he said the writing brought him and his
father closer together.
However, not all
self-reflection has to be so brutal. Frank McCourt wrote the excellently
depressing Angela’s Ashes, but I often recommend a lesser-known work, Teacher
Man. This is a very fascinating story based on his life as a teacher, prior to when Angela’s Ashes changed his life forever. It’s insightful and honest, but
without the emotional gravity that makes Angela’s Ashes such a difficult read.
It also has a very short but incredibly powerful last chapter, but that’s for
another time.
(Side note: Frank McCourt published his first book, Angela's Ashes, at the age of 66. Never tell me you are too old to start writing)
So now that we at
least want to try writing with a particular mood and for a particular genre, we
look back to our three-act structure and consider just what the ideal ending
is. As I suggested in the previous post, perhaps the best conclusion would take
place on the first day of college – the goal achieved, the story concluded. But
now we have to think about the realization that comes with this. Coming-of-age
stories usually keep the finale clean and to-the-point – mission accomplished.
A dark comedy can come with any bundle of endings, and it is not uncommon to
leave the character with the realization, “What the hell have I gotten myself
into?” Nothing is more satisfying in that genre than the person getting what
they wished for, only to realize too late that it’s not what they wanted.
We also have to
consider if the ending communicates the real message of the book. So many times
in life, we pursue a goal but gain so much from the journey that the
destination looks different once we reach it. My personal realization from the
adventure that brought me to college was that I needed to go through all that
pain and suffering beforehand in order to appreciate what college truly meant
to me (that would also play to the title, The Higher Education of James
Pressler). But if that is to be the final realization in act three, I better make
sure that I don’t give that away in act one and I actually include important
lessons throughout act two.
At this point, we are
ready to write – almost. We only have a few simple writing decisions to make,
but these can make or break how this story will play out
(to be concluded on
the next post)
Each week I appreciate the play-by-play description of your writing process. I also find it helpful when you offer other authors' work by name.
ReplyDeleteThank you. If there's one thing I hope this method accomplishes is getting writers to develop their own ways, and maybe I can someday learn from them
Delete"So many times in life, we pursue a goal but gain so much from the journey that the destination looks different once we reach it."
ReplyDeleteSo true.
I've read about a 'journey' more than once here.
What happened to that being a pet peeve of yours :p
Fair enough. I do find the word "journey" is often abused (searching for the world's best Mai-Tai is not a 'journey,' it's a mixed-drink crawl). However, I think my "higher education" was a journey that I was lucky to survive. Thanks
Delete