Thursday, September 28, 2006

Research

A lot of people were surprised to learn that Elizabeth George was a former schoolteacher who lived in Southern California (and now lives near Puget Sound since the State of Washington changed the tax laws to encourage artists). From reading her fiction you would have thought she was British. Ah, the power of research. She traveled to England to research her locales, but that was only after her first two books were published. Prior to that she haunted the travel section of her local bookstores, reading everything she could find. It's no secret that after her first couple of books the tactile feel of her settings increases tremendously.

This was brought home to me some 20 years ago when I visited the Antietam National Battlefield Park, and the Manassas Battlefield Park. At Antietam the northern part of the battlefield was the scene of some of the heaviest fighting on that blood-soaked day. Miller's Cornfield saw several thousand casualties in its 30-acre expanse in the course of some 90 minutes. While tracking the movement of some of the units I was struck by how many times units would pause in the middle of the Cornfield, reorganize for a minute or so, before pressing on. Every map I consulted (and the few photos I saw) could not explain why. And then I visited it in person and saw that there was a slight dip there, maybe a couple of feet lower than the rest of the Cornfield. The incoming fire there had to seem lighter, which is why they paused there.

At Manassas I wondered why Pope's artillery did not blow the Confederates off the face of the Earth, and why Stephen Lee's artillery didn't shatter the Union troops where they were forming up, but only when they advanced. Nobody explained the small patch of woods 150 yards from the Confederate position where the Union troops formed up, and that screend the Confederate position. When I could walk the battlefield I could see it (a recent history does show this now, but it wasn't available in 1986).

I saw the reverse of this when I was reading a popular detective series set in Seattle (by somebody who had never visited that city). She had the main character driving south on Fourth Avenue through the heart of the city. I have yet to see a guidebook that explains that Fourth Avenue is one-way northbound through the central business core of Seattle. And later the main character ran east on James Street (!). When you walk up James Street you feel you need two Sherpas and a mountain goat to assist you (yes, it is that steep). This was corrected after the author visited Seattle.

This highlights the results of personal research. I saw this when I was on Aruba in 2004. We went horseback riding, and I could experience for myself that this was a desert island (cactus and that type of sand you only get with a desert). The travel books may tell you that, but it is one of those things you have to experience.

David Morrell (author of Rambo, First Blood and some 30 other thrillers) suggested that whenever you go anywhere, record your impressions, sight, sound, taste, touch, feel and so on. Then if you set a story there it will show up in your prose.

Nobody said research should be hard, either. Last Spring we did an Alaska cruise; up the Inside Passage to Juneau, visiting Ketchikan, Skagway and Glacier Bay (and Victoria) on our way back. I especially enjoyed those parts of Skagway that they've tried to keep with a Gold Rush feel, the wooden sidewalks, the taverns, and so on. Of course one block away it was the modern world, but for a few yards it was "historical".

Hmm, maybe that's why erotica is so popular to write. Look at all of the research you need to do!

So the next time you travel, after reading everything about the destination you are visiting, get out and walk around. Try to absorb everything you can about the place. You'll be pleasantly surprised at how it populates your stories and gives it that touch of verisimilitude.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

He said, She said

The dreaded conversation tags. They're necessary in a story. After all, how can you tell who is speaking? Um, several ways. Let's look at what not to do, first.

The urge everyone has is to tell how somebody says something. "I don't want to go," Sonia said petulantly. This violates the cardinal rule of storytelling: Show, don't tell." You're telling the reader how she said it. So how should you indicate that Sonia is in a petulant mood? Action.

Sonia threw the book down. "I don't want to go." Better, you have some action that hints at mood. You could be a bit more explicit, such as: Sonia threw herself into the chair, crossing her arms and scowling at the door. "I don't want to go."

This is better because now we're working in a bit of body language. This goes a long way toward 'selling' the scene and the action. There are body movements that seem to be pretty universal, and crossing your arms (and legs) is one that indicates repelling or shoving away. You're creating a wall. But 'throwing' herself in the chair? Let's modify that a bit.

Sonia crossed her arms, her expression defiant. "I'm not going." All right, a little better. Sonia is not longer stating an opinion, she's making a simple declarative sentence. Even better, we now have a second visual, one that is judgmental (defiant). How do we know it is defiant? Here we are skirting close to the edge and interpreting body language for the reader, but all in the context.

What these don't have is the word 'said'. There is nothing wrong with that word, it is probably the most common and useful word when you write. At least it isn't some other word that denotes poor or careless writing. "I'm not going," she stormed. Great line, great visual, but why not show her storming (see above about crossing her arms).

When you're telling the reader how something was said you are far better putting it in context. You have to put in a conversation tag somewhere in the beginning so the reader knows who started the conversation, but you don't have to do much beyond that, provided you make sure the reader can keep it straight.

There are words you can use, replied is one of my favorites; it is as good as 'said', but it indicates a direct response to the person asking a question. But other than that? Murmured, whispered, those work. But they are distinct forms of speech. I've found that if I do use the word 'said', I try to leave it alone after that. I might, occasionally add a word such as 'quietly'. This appears to violate the show don't tell prescription up above, but you can picture somebody dropping their voice when they speak. Other than that I try to avoid modifying things.

The worst are what are known as Tom Swifties. I've mentioned those before. "Get to the back of the boat," Tom said sternly. "The nuclear reactor is fine," Tom said glowingly. This gets back to the old prescription for dealing with adverbs and adjectives: "when you meet one, kill it." You'll clean up your writing tremendously.

As an exercise, write a conversation without using a conversation tag. Write short sentences. You'll find that the conversation is suddenly very quick and can move the story along quite well. The secret, of course, is to try what I pointed out up above: put everything in context. Your writing will seem smoother, and your conversations and dialogue can now advance the plot through those little contextual moments that will slip past the reader.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Word Count

How many words are in a story? That's easy to find, isn't it? In Microsoft Word go to properties, click on the tab, and it'll tell you. Or go to the Tools tab and click on Word Count. It'll tell you the number of pages, lines, paragraphs, characters with spaces, characters without spaces, and words. That's all you need, right?

Er....

Let's start at the beginning. How do you define a word? What is the average length? I'll cheat and tell you to go with the standard format for a story:
  • 12-point Courier or Courier New
  • double-spaced
  • single-sided
  • 1" margins all around
Though only the 12-point Courier is useful at this point. The rest is for the agents and editors who will read your deathless prose. There is a good reason for each of those formatting points. Courier is a fixed pitch serif font, and as such is vital to someone rendering your story onto a press.

These latter people are the most important in the process, at least at this point. They need to know how many pages you're story will take up as it will effect the binding and the amount of advertising they put in the back of the book (that is to make sure everything comes out in a multiple of either 4 or 16, depending upon the type of press). Thus they need to know the number of lines in your story, and how many characters you used. That includes the number of blank spaces between words.

Now after seven chapters of rewrite, Firestar is at some 56,731 words, at least according to Word's tool. It needs 4,477 lines to achieve this. But when I use a standard conversion number I took from the Science Fiction Writers of America's web page (www.sfwa.org), I get 54,120 words. What accounts for the 2,600 word difference? It's in the way words are measured.

The standard typesetter measure is that a word is 6 characters, including spaces. So take the number of characters with spaces and divide by 6, and round off to the nearest 10.

I applied this to a short story I wrote recently (Dover Street Bridge), and then counted the number of words I actually found. The count by using the spaces was off by 3 from the actual number I physically counted. Word's count was 70 higher. Naturally if I was being paid by the word I'd go with the higher count. But honesty compels me to put the smaller count in (and round to the nearest 50) because that count is a sales tool. Honestly. An editor has two stories, one of 2,300 words, and one of 6,900 words. He has a budget. And if he can put in the shorter of the two stories (quality being equal), he will do so because that gives him room for more advertising and costs less for writer's fees. It is a business, after all.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

It Seemed Like a Good Idea

I have a problem with A Different World, and last night helped me solve it. But before we get to that, I have to backtrack a little.

Last night I attended the Woodinville Writer's Group (Woodinville Barnes & Noble, 7:30 to 9:00, second Tuesday of every month). Ted Sanders gave a presentation on starting (and plotting) a novel, and I read about half of Chapter 5 of A Different Worldto the assembled group. I brought along my notes/plot/plot outline for Firestar in case people wanted to discuss other ways of plotting and outlining a book. Ted, though, hit it right on the sweet spot.

After reading Chapter 5, and listening to the rather cogent points about what I had read, I considered a number of issues about the story:
  • I do a lot of duplicating when I tell a story; I don't know why, but even in the jokes and stories I tell out loud I do this.
  • I need to find a way to include vital material in each chapter, or in the run-up to each chapter. For example, in Chapter 4 we learn that a "person of interest" is a Level 3 Sex Offender, and Gina has to explain what that means, but without any preparation in Chapter 5.
  • the 'voice' of the characters is too similar, and I need a way to distinguish between the Victorian 'voice' and the 'modern' voice.
  • I need to seriously rethink the entire theme and presentation of the story.
The latter is the most important of all of the above points (I can usually catch the duplication in edit). The theme of DW is contained in the very first sentence: It might be a different world, Police Matron Virginia Stone thought as she surveyed the crime scene, but murder was still murder.

The key thing here is the phrase 'different world'. The theme is that we have a person having to adapt to a new world. She is continually tripped up, not by the new or different things, but by the things she thinks she knows from her own cultural heritage. As she adapts, as she learns, we get to explore the world with her.

In a sub-genre like this, alternate history with free access, we have several issues that have to be addressed. These are (in no particular order):
  • cross-contamination; Gina is over the sickness of new germs, so it is cultural cross-contamination. In Counterfeit Line she makes one change, she inadvertently introduces the brassiere (after trying on a corset). This is deliberate, and gives her a vocation that it was acceptable for a woman to have (clothes and stitching).
  • cultural attitudes. This one is trickier. I have to create and showcase a Victorian world, but not quite a straight Victorian world. I have to introduce differences, plausible ones, and slip them in, and make it obvious that these are differences. For example, a lot of the anti-prostitution drive in the Victorian era was from 'cleanliness'. Prostitutes passed on STDs, and public health was seen as a wedge issue (the first of many) that could be used to make people more moral (this led, among other things, to Prohibition in the US, and the current Washington State ban on smoking in public places). People will be more moral and pure because we will ram our vision of those desired traits down their throats. For the purists, this led to the Bolshevik strain of socialism, too. In Counterfeit Line I didn't have to do that as much as Gina was not choosing to live in New Essex.
  • the history of New Essex and the Dominion of America. I did this with an appendix in Counterfeit Line, but in DW I'll have to slip it in. And when I get to Body of Evidence I'll have to be even more careful. Fortunately I have a character who is a historian who can drop things in to the story, Elissa.
  • resolve the murders at the beginning of the book, and resolve the issues raised in Chapter 4 (jurisdiction).
So what does this mean? Well, in one of the early chapters Gina and Elissa open the portal and look at a town in Bavaria in 1704 that is being besieged by the Anglo-Dutch army under John Churchill, the Duke of Marlborough. But what does that have to do with the theme? Nothing. Out it goes. I love that chapter. I'll save it for something else. Think of it as tough love. Leaving with it is Elissa's idea of seeing the other sites. I'll have to stick something in about that, but it will be background.

So what replaces that? Elissa wants to move in with Gina. Her ostensible reason is to look for things to buy that she can sell in our timeline as 'Victorian Replicas' (no fooling, there is quite a market for that). That gives me an excuse to work in some historical bits, have Gina teach Elissa some of the finer points of Victorian behavior, thus bringing them to the reader's attention, and a couple of other things (there was an article in the 1900 L.A. Times about how a woman should board a street trolley!).

Now I need to thoroughly revisit the plot. I know who the murderer is, and I know how he is doing it, I just have to work that into the story. And Gina will be the one who solves it because she is the only one who can put all of the pieces together. Hmm, time to haul out the outline.

But this is an example of how theme permeates everything, and by staying true to a theme a problem (recognized by my subconscious) can be solved.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

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Friday, September 08, 2006

Back to Writing

After several nearly successive posts about wargaming, back to the primary element of this blog, writing.

I've created a website on MSN Groups called Bruce B Writes. I've been populating it with content, the first chapters of completed novels, notes on other stories, wargame rules, and so on. Hopefully it's better organized and of some use to people interested in what I write. Registration is free. It can be found at: http://www.msnusers.com/BruceBWrites

As for what I'm doing at the moment, I finished outlining Firestar, and thought I'd talk about that. I didn't outline. I didn't believe in it. After all, wasn't it: I,A,1),a) like we learned in school? Then I sat through a couple of sessions on outlining by people who have been very successful. John Saul commented that he writes 70-90 page outlines of his stories. When he's done he just breathes in nouns, verbs, and the like, and he's got a complete novel. Anne McCaffrey said she didn't outline, but had the story in her head. But Terry Brooks (Sword of Shannara), etc.) said he did outline; he had to if he wanted to make sure the story did what he wanted it to.

After talking it over with several other people it dawned on me that I do outline. It isn't the formal outline you learned in school. That was useful exactly once, on a 300 level history exam in college when I outlined my answer, and then started writing it; when time ran out the prof could see the direction I was going, and I only lost 1 point on the answer. My outlining sort of grew out of what I first did with the third book of the Families War novels, Lexeon.

Lexeon, as originally written, was a very complex story (and it still might turn out to be one). It had seven (7) different and major plot threads going (since reduced to 1-2). I had to keep track of them, and tried a spreadsheet in Excel. That was sort of kind of useful, but I went with creating a table in Word (I'm a lot more comfortable in Word) and changing the color of the cell when I was done with that bit. It helped me keep everything straight, and told the story of a war. It wasn't, alas, Corey's story, which is why I've begun breaking it up.

But at the start of every chapter I would list those things that had to happen to advance the plot. And that was my outline. But it wasn't quite what I was after.

I tried the "...and then what happens?" method, and that worked better. In this one you keep asking yourself that question. It's a rough method for working out a plot, and it emphasizes plot twists. Again, it wasn't quite what I was after.

The next day (Maui Writer's Conference Cruise) I hit on what seems to work for me. We were told we were part of a writer's group, we had a complex story, and we had to write a summary, by chapter, of what had happened so people would remember what had happened in the story and give good critique. I did that, and the light went on. I did that for Counterfeit Line, and saw how to shorten/rewrite the beginning. And I found what works (for me).

So I spent several days writing, and rewriting, the outline for Firestar. This is now done to my satisfaction, and I've even found improvements in the story. I was dissatisfied with the end of Chapter 3, feeling that it lost focus. I consulted the outline, and lo! I had an entire new scene to write where Corey explains what she's learned to her fellow pilots. She'll get opposition from them, informed opposition, and have to defend her ideas to people who would have to carry them out. I've written that scene (and rewritten it already) and like how it hangs together, furthers the plot, gets Corey closer to her Must, and even just reads well.

The trick is to learn to do it with another story. Pick one that you like, and go through it summarizing each scene in 1-2 lines. List who is in it, and the physical location. This will let you see the pattern. If the writing is too smooth, then go through it backwards to see how the author did things. When you're done, go over it front to back. You'll see how the plot follows the standard plot outline (problem, complication, resolution that leads to further complication, to further resolution, to the character changing, to final resolution). You'll see how character and plot intertwine with each other, and you'll get a sense of the whole flow.

Then go do it with your own stories.

Then go do it with a story you're starting.

Of course for the latter you should also do the character sketch so you know as much as you can about the character (I did this in Kassandra's Song with Mdm. Arnou, which made her a much better character; I knew what she was going to say, and why she was going to say it the way she was in every scene).

So, now with character sketches and outline firmly in hand, back to Firestar.

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

The Battles of Labor Day

It originally started as a means to clear out the garage and get my wife's car washed: I would host a multi-day wargame in my garage. I rounded up all of the usual suspects, and we cleaned out the garage. We laid out where the troops would go, and on the day, deployed multiple Napoleonic army corps from their carrying cases. Then, with everything set, off we went. Several hours later the battle was over. It would be the first of many.

In succeeding years we went to tables in the garage (a giant Age of Reason game, followed by a giant Little Big Battles game), in large part because our knees couldn't take the cement. Then we moved inside to my game room and had a series of games. We traveled south to Oregon at least twice, and later migrated to a different house where we could game on the patio. But overall we've enjoyed multiple days of gaming.

This year (2006) was typical. When I arrived there was a galley game (Little Greek Rowboats) going full blast (that lasted all day). The rest of us kibitzed for a bit, and then set up a Little Big Battles game that was supposed to be a division/player, and somehow ended up in a larger action with a corps of cavalry and ~45 battalions on each side. I am told the Austrians and Allies won. The next day featured a larger than average King's War game that lasted most of the day. Day 3 featured an Age of Reason game, and, later, a double-sized non-fantasy Hordes of the Things ancients battle (I say non-fantasy as Hotts is the fantasy version of De Bellis Antiquitatis). And finally, the fourth day, having shed most everybody, we got in a game of the Marlburian version of Volley & Bayonet.

We've done this every year to the point where it is something we look forward to on the calendar. It's a time of stories, games, eating, drinking, good luck, bad luck, and so on, a lot of the things that make gaming a fun hobby.