Nice image, shame about the marketing

It is generally agreed that the covers to the three books in my Maliha Anderson series are very nice indeed, and get steadily better. I agree too, I think they're great.

See. You can see the consistency of design, the common elements which communicate that this is a series (not just the silhouette but the cloud shapes), and there's the Art Deco styling which tends to place the period. Apart from that the stories are something about a boat, a city and an airplane.

All good stuff. Well, no, not really.

There is an excellent article that has passed through my stream a couple of times about book cover clichés - and why you should have them.

Yes, you read right (and I wrote right): Why you should have a clichéd cover.

What's the genre of these books? Well, okay the title is a bit of a giveaway on the first one. There's a murder, the second says something about blood and the third ... ? Who knows.

There's probably a woman in the stories as well, and it's a reasonable guess it's the same woman in each.

But what we actually have are murder-mystery/steampunk mash-ups. Do these covers say "murder mystery"? No. Do they steampunk? Again, no. A cover is part of the sales tools of a book. These covers, no matter how pretty they are, are not pulling their weight when it comes to telling the potential reader what sort of book it is.

Of course if the series was selling well I wouldn't be bothered. But sales are a bit flimsy, though the reviews are generally good, so I'm looking at ways to improve the sales. And one way is to change the cover to something that will work for a certain type of reader.

In order to do this I have decide which genre I'm going to target. The steampunk in the stories is pretty lightweight and the murder mystery market is much bigger so has better potential for sales. So I'll target that group with just one cover as a test.

The cover is going to need to communicate several things: The period, have the usual "murder weapon and blood" elements, plus put across the steampunkness in some fashion, even just some metalwork would be sufficient. Oh, and they are usually photographic rather than drawn.

It will be interesting to see what, if any, results I get from that.

You can read the original article about covers here.

---

What's on the turntable? "Rubycon, Part One" by Tangerine Dream, from "Rubycon"

Selling books like Hendrix playing

In the various communities of writers you often see posts from people saying "I've just self-published my first book how do I promote it?" which, roughly translated, means "how do I make people buy my book?"

The answer to this question is very simple: You don't. The very last thing you want to do is waste energy (or worse, money) trying. Seriously, just don't. And here's why:

You're on stage with your guitar, standing behind your amplifier. You play a single note. It rings out strong, filling the auditorium and then fades to nothing. Gone.

That's what happens if you publish one book (although you will get some sales forever). But what if you could do this:

You stand in front of your amplifier, you play that same note and it sings out forever - because the sound from the amplifier vibrates the string, which gets played out of the amplifier, which vibrates the string, which gets played out of the amplifier and so on, ad infinitum. Or at least until you get bored or someone unplugs the amp.

That is positive feedback and that's what you're looking for regardless of whether it's traditional or self-publishing. It's just a lot easier to achieve in self-publishing.

Positive feedback in publishing? Yes indeed.

If you have just one book...

When you first publish a book (on, say, Amazon) they give it a little bit of a kick to help it along. Why not? They'd love to make money out of you. So a few people buy the book, pushes it up the chart a bit, makes it a little more visible but once they've bought it they've bought it, so sales drop, the rating drops,visibility (or, more accurately "discoverability") becomes less, which makes it even less likely anyone else will buy it. The sales tail off and die.

You can do some advance marketing, this can help. The start-up kick is bigger but the people who are going to see it and buy it will buy it and after a while it drops down the charts.

Or, maybe you get lucky, maybe this really is a popular book you've written (think Fifty Shades of Grey) and the kick is big, but word of mouth pushes more sales, discoverability goes up and more people buy it. It gets in the news, and sales explode. This is a positive feedback loop but even this eventually tails off, everybody who's going to buy it eventually does and the decline sets in.

What if you have more than one book?

This is stretching the analogy but a single guitar string is equivalent to one book. Every book you publish adds a string like this:

Let's say you take the first option above, you publish a book and don't promote it. Instead you write another book (preferably a sequel). That's published and gets some sales, people like it and they come back and find you have another book, so they buy that. Two sales where before you had just one.

Third book: three sales for one launch. Four books? Four sales. And so it goes on.

But here's the point: As you build the number of books your discoverability increases (you have more books) and when you get a follow-up sale that's another kick in the discoverability of that book. And with all your books cross-promoting each other and pushing each other up the charts you now have positive feedback.

And the analogy completely breaks down.

Because a book is not a recyclable sound wave and guitars seldom have more than six strings.

Once a person has bought a book they don't need to buy it again. So while you can reach a sort of positive feedback point, you still have to keep putting out books to keep triggering a round of further sales. (And reach new people.) If you stop producing the sales will eventually tail off, not to zero but some low level.

Notice that unlike traditional publishing ebooks and print-on-demand paperbacks can always continue to be produced. They are always in the shop waiting to be bought.

Additional factors

If you can't write nothing in the universe will make the positive feedback kick in, I don't care how many books you're written. (Fifty Shades may not have been a very well written book but it was readable and caught the public imagination.)

Speed of getting them out. The faster you can produce books the sooner you'll reach the positive feedback point. Although naturally that depends on lots of other factors.

Pricing is not a major point, as long as you don't price too high.

Once you have a number of books available you can then indulge in promotion and marketing but deciding the point at which it becomes worthwhile is an imponderable. These things work best if you are already doing well.

---

What's on the turntable? "Red House" by Jimi Hendrix

A Writer has 3 Heads

Or How to be the Worzel Gummidge* of writing.

I am very vehement and opinionated -- we could put a full stop there but let us continue -- about how writers should feel about their work. I think you should love your work, love it now, love it in a year and enjoy reading it again in ten years.

Yes, you might see how you could have done it better, after all you have ten years more experience but you should be able to read it and enjoy it. I do. And I think it comes down to interchangeable heads.

Most people talk about the Writer and Editor heads. But I would also add the Reader head.

Everyone in the writing game will tell you: Don't edit when you're writing. This is excellent advice. When you're writing you should only be wearing your Writer head. If you wear your Editor head as well you'll be forever correcting your work and you'll progress so much slower, it's also confusing. And if you have the Reader head in place you'll be noticing how bad your writing is when it's first draft. Well the first draft of anything is shit as Ernest Hemingway eloquently observed. No reader is going to like it.

So then you get to the editing stage. Again the popular advice is leave your manuscript alone for two weeks to a month. Why do they say that? It's so you have time and space to remove your Writer head in relation to that piece of work, so that you can put your Editor head on properly. If you keep your Writer head on you will be arguing with yourself about whether something needs correcting or changing. The Editor head knows what's wrong. The Writer head does not. (And the Reader head doesn't get a look in for the same reason as before.)

What happens when you get notes from other editors or beta-readers? You put your Writer head back on, and see how you can creatively fix the problems. Sometimes it's obvious, but there are times when it isn't.

One problem writers have is knowing when something is ready. A writer is a creative person and can go on creating and recreating forever. Tweaking and changing. Same with the Editor head you can always make improvements. And that's why you need the Reader head, there must be a point where you can don the Reader head, and go through your work as if someone else, completely separate from you, wrote it. I'm not going to claim it's easy, it needs to be practiced.

And if the Reader head likes it, can enjoy it without running into poor sentence construction or plot holes, then you know it's ready.

As you become more skilled and experienced you will learn to swap heads faster and more completely, which is just as it should be. Cultivate your Reader head. (Possibly by planting it in compost - old Worzel would approve.)

* Worzel Gummidge - a scarecrow character from a series of children's books by Barbara Euphan Todd, and played in the 1979-1981 ITV series by Jon Pertwee (Dr Who) and Una Stubbs (most recently in Sherlock) as Aunt Sally. The character had different heads for different occasions.

Worzel Gummidge, ITV

---

What's on the turntable? Closer to Your Heart by Clannad from Lore.

May you live in interesting times

Normally I'm very British about things but on this occasion I am going to forego the whole British reserve thing and just say:

I am excited.

Seriously I am very excited.

Why? Well, because the whole writing thing is really coming together, finally.

• My second novella Blood Sky at Night will be released in about two weeks.
• I'll be launching the free sample issue of The Lazarus Device comic book somewhere in that time.
• I'm planning a major non-fiction book related to my day job to be released in the summer.
• My serialised story Frozen Beauty continues to develop on the Voidships website.
• And, at long last, I have been commissioned to write a feature film script for real money. (To be delivered in eight weeks or so, and filmed this summer - they're on a deadline.)

Not that I can afford to give up the day job yet, but this is all just brilliant.

---

What's on the turntable? "Hljómalind" by Sigur Ros from "Hvarf/Heim"

Energise!

I did go to the London Screenwriters Festival and it was good. Very good. I almost didn't go, I'm very glad I did.

But that's not what this blog is about.

It's about something screenwriters talk about in relation to scripts but something I have never seen defined: "Script energy".

This came to mind because of John August and Craig Mazin's podcast this week. You can listen here, the relevant bit is around 33 minutes - but why not listen to it all?

[Of course, it was a risk writing this before I finished listening to the podcast and, of course, they carried on and said much of what I wrote here, but less pedantically. But what the hell. I'll leave it, it was still my realisation, at the time.]

So "energy": Craig is talking about scenes ending with an energy that propels the viewer forward. But what is this energy? Just saying "your script lacks energy" or "this scene lacks energy" is unhelpful. Am I supposed to fry it with 20,000 volts? Okay, disingenuous, but still. What. Is. It?

So I applied some of the old mind power. And this is what I came up with, you may feel differently.

When talking about this energy we're actually talking about the viewer's reaction. It's not actually energy in the script, it's the energy the script generates in the viewer. I got a grip on it by looking at a scene which lacks energy (a metaphorical scene, not a real one):

Let's say someone watches this metaphorical scene, and at the end of it they sigh and say "so what?" The scene engenders nothing in the viewer, or rather it engenders boredom, disinterest. An emotional state of nothing much really. That scene has no energy.

A scene that brings about any emotional state reaction is a scene that has energy. But that's not all of it.

A scene could of itself be complete, it could start somewhere, cause an emotion and then complete. It still wouldn't have the energy we're really talking about because at the end of it there is no impetus to continue. The viewer could just stop and be satisfied. And we don't want that. (Want to know a reason why you get out of a scene as early as possible - that.)

What we want is the viewer to cry out "What happens next???!!!" They want to know, they must know what happens next. They cannot stop watching they have to know.

And, in my view, that is the energy, it's the desire to keep going, keep watching, keep listening, to stick with it because they have to know. (In horror it's a kind of negative: they have to know, but they really don't want to, but they have to...)

'Nuff said.

---

What's on the turntable? "BWV 1004 Chaconne by Bach" by Steve Hackett from "Tribute to Bach"

The Ice Furnace

Hallo peeps.

I've been ultra busy with writing stuff, production stuff, work stuff, family stuff, so I've decided to do something else as well.

It's ScriptFrenzy time again!

This is that awesome time of year when you are provided, free, gratis and for nothing, with a built-in deadline to get your feature script written in just 30 days.

I've done it every year of its existence which means I have five feature scripts I might not otherwise have had.

This year I am writing The Ice Furnace which is a sequel to the film script I wrote last year (and thus part of the collaborative transmedia Voidships project) but I'm doing it as a graphic novel instead - and I even have an artist who will (hopefully) get the some of the first chapter on paper before the end of April. Pretty graphics, yay!

Anyway, thought I'd just keep you up-to-date on what's happening.

Do ScriptFrenzy - you know it makes sense - what are you going to write?

---

What's on the turntable? [at work so nuffink]

The Mystery of Suspense with a side-order of Sex

Writing 101.

The concept called Dramatic Irony sounds complicated. It isn't.

It's when the audience knows something one or more of the important characters in a story doesn't know. As in Hitchcock's bomb under the table[1], if the audience doesn't know it's there and it explodes, that's a surprise. If the audience does know it's there and it doesn't explode... the fact the audience knows is dramatic irony, the effect it causes is suspense. Though it only causes suspense if it's got consequences, the bigger the consequences the better the suspense.

Bombs generally have consequences.

Suspense is a very good thing, it keeps the audience on the edge of their seat. It enforces their participation and without audience participation a story is worthless.

Mystery is the opposite of suspense, being just something the audience - and one or more important characters also doesn't know. Hopefully the audience wants to know, but they don't and the story hinges on it, then it fails.

I'm getting interested in this stuff because I've nearly finished Winter and I'm heading into the "let's analyse the story scene by scene using screenwriting tools and see how we can make it better" stage.

In Winter I'm reasonably happy with the suspense factor - even though it's based on a mystery. The audience knows that the protagonist has a major secret, it's a mystery although it's almost certainly something bad (good things are seldom any use). The audience also knows that this secret is going to make something bad happen to one of the other characters. Eventually.

And I wrote my first sex scene which was an interesting experience. It only occupies half a page (this is a script after all) but it does the job it needs to do.

But what's even more interesting was how to get the two characters from strangers to making love in 30 pages. For that I did some research and found the 12 Steps to Intimacy[2] which, like all things, are guidelines rather than rules.

Have you written your first sex scene yet? How was it for you?

[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Themes_and_plot_devices_in_the_films_of_Alfred_Hitchcock

[2] http://terryodell.blogspot.com/2010/03/12-steps-to-intimacy.html

---

What's on the turntable? "Spare Some Love" by Renaissance from "Prologue"

When I say "Oh dear"...

I realise my empty last posting needs some explanation. I mean I could delete it but where would the fun be in that?

Fun? Not feeling very fun-ny today I must admit. This is not because anything bad is happening in my life, it isn't. Just had a bad night a combination of the weather suddenly turning hot and humid (just for a couple of hours), people just down the way having friends round and making just enough noise to prevent sleep, cats deciding to take objection to other cats, and our dog taking exception to the cats taking exception to each other.

Very sad. So I'm tired, hence the unfunny feeling.

The "Oh dear" was because I was going to make a comment about how I had completely failed to make any further posting about the London Screenwriters Festival. But the inter-tubes in the place I'm staying decided to behave badly and that was as far as I got. Except I managed to post it.

Not very exciting at all.

London Screenwriters Festival

I went to others of the sessions of course, nothing truly major stuck in my mind. Ellin Stein's session on editing down scripts was interesting enough; and the one on a new way of analysing scripts was passingly interesting, though the speaker was primarily selling his products - and his clientele is directors rather than writers.

I can sum up what he said: The key moments of a script are when a character perceives something different in their environment.

I think, on the whole, it's a valid tool for directors, is it a valid tool for writers? No idea. I'll have to try it out.

I had a go at the Pitch Factor on Saturday evening. It was fun and I was rubbish - but considering I wrote the pitch on the back a cigarette packet half a  minute before speaking that comes as no surprise. (I'm lying professionally here. It was a note pad, and I wrote it half an hour before.)

I also had a Speed Pitch session booked, which was also a bit poo. But I was similarly unprepared. No surprise there then.

I went to the Writing Fantastical TV session which had a good panel and the overwhelming advice was - smuggle it in. Of course, as I read elsewhere, it's ludicrous if TV commissioners say "oh that last SF TV series really bombed we won't do any more of those". After all, do they, when a cop show bombs, say "We won't do any more cop shows?" No, they don't.

There was also the Writing for Comics, another good panel and something I knew nothing about, so I was suitably enlightened. Interesting.

And, of course, I met new people and generally had a good time. So I'll no doubt do it again.

Family Drama

So, the Boy has been doing exams (his school push them through early GCSEs) so it's been a bit a stressful time for him. But he has come out the other side safely.

For the drama exam (part of English Language) they had to write their own 5min script based on Saving Private Ryan. Scripts is something we know something about so he got the job in his groups. (Actually it makes no sense, this is a drama exam so he gets nothing for the writing - surely they should just give them a script?)

Anyway, without going into detail, there was much to-ing and fro-ing with this script. He wasn't sure what to do, so we discussed conflict in scenes. His first version barely made 90 seconds. Then he got something sorted that was long enough. Then he found that his part was too short so had to add a completely new sequence into the scene, but we discussed what could be done and came up with something he liked and he wrote it.

I'm currently working away from home during the week so the Teacher (okay, that's potentially confusing - when I say "the Teacher" I mean my wife, not his schoolteacher) helped him clean up the spelling and grammar. And then she wanted to put some additional instructions into the action lines and the Boy says "No, mum, you can't do that, that's director stuff."

There humour. (For the sake of completeness, yes, I know, in stage work the writer is god, so "director stuff" would be fine - but that wouldn't be funny.)

Anyway it all went off well and he got the equivalent of an A grade for the drama part - I'd have given him the same for the writing, but I'm a bit biased.

Winter Blog

I am also instigating yet another blog - just a sucker for punishment - this one is specifically about writing the web series Winter which is going very nicely and I have some observations to make (well, I think they're interesting - others may differ.)

---

What's on the turntable? "The Third Hoorah" by Jethro Tull from "Warchild"

What are your characters doing?

It's been a while since I wrote a blog exclusively on writing, the craft of. And that's what this is.

I've been reading "The Tools of Screenwriting" and finding it a very useful book indeed. I'm not one for formulas (except Aristotle) but I'm always keen on tools for the screenwriting toolbox - they don't necessarily make things easier but help you to incorporate those things that make your writing better.

This isn't a review and I'm not going into depth (you can buy the book) but this afternoon, as I travelled home on the train, I've been working on something that came from just a single sentence in the book:

"Determine the actions that reveal character and move the story forward first."

I'd been working on character background for the web series Winter and applying various other tools (such as Bill Martell's "just come up with scenes, lots of scenes, more than you need") but when I came across this gem I put all those aside.

There are three main characters in Winter and I knew the overall arc of the story (I had roughly plotted the acts and there is an earlier draft), so I sat down with the Protagonist and went "What does she do first?" and wrote it down, then I went through the whole story listing her actions that drive the story forward and reveal character.

The thing I observed was that nailing it down to the specific actions could not help but reveal character - a character is what they do - and character is story. It was a revealing experience to go through and nailed the story so much better than I ever had before.

Then I did the same for the other two characters. After all they are the protagonists in their own stories.

All in all it was a very productive couple of hours - I highly recommend it.

---

What's on the turntable? "Will you love me tomorrow?" by Carole King from "Tapestry"

It's more than writing

David Bishop just* posted a blog on the invisible bits of a writing career, which reminded me that I needed to write an email to a producer. Which I was just doing when I thought that's something that needs saying.

I have a feeling that new writers think the only thing that's important in a writing career is the writing. Even though all the experienced writers will tell you that networking, staying in communication with people and knowing what's going on in the market are very important.

As a web developer I have to stay up-to-date with my industry: learning all the new stuff; seeing what the trends are; even staying aware of relevant legislation. Because even though the visible part of my job is to "just create websites" according to a supplied specification, my skills have to stay relevant and I need to know whether any new laws affect what I'm being asked to do (which happened recently). This is all part of the job. And if a website specification says "do this" and I know that "doing this" might contradict a relevant law I can say so (at the very least it protects me) - and that's what makes me a professional in my industry.

As a writer it's worth knowing, for example, when the BBC commissioning rounds take place. Because it's worth talking to producers and production companies in advance of those commissioning rounds if you have a script that might go into them. And giving that as your reason for contacting the producer shows that person that you are a professional.

And that's why I had to write an email to a producer. There's a commissioning round on the way (only four months, so it's close) and if the producer likes the script we can put it in.

And if I hadn't been to the Kid's TV event on Friday, I wouldn't have known. And if I didn't read David's blog I wouldn't have been reminded, because even reading blogs is part of the job.

* When I say "just" it was a couple of days ago but I have delayed publishing this blog entry.

---

What's on the turntable? "South Horizon" by David Bowie from "Sound and Vision"

The Quality of Dirty Laundry

Hop over to the BBC iPlayer here and listen to the wondrous Alan Bennett introducing his Talking Heads monologues.

More than an introduction, he discusses the process of writing them, how monologues differ from playwriting, something about creating characters - and writers finding themselves with dirty underwear in their suitcases.

Quality stuff - and then you can listen to the Talking Heads themselves and marvel at how he generates scenes with conflict with just a single voice.

We are not worthy.

---

What's on the turntable? "Deckard & Roy's Duel" by Vangelis from "Bladerunner Trilogy" Disc 2

The Undeserving

No one deserves success.

I'm not saying that because I'm upset, or received a rejection, or been pipped at the post by some other writer. (I love it when others gain success - I used to watch Blind Date, not for the angry break-ups or hate-filled diatribes, but for those precious and rare times when people liked each other.)

"I deserve it" is for those X-Idol-Got-No-Talent no-hopers.

The harder you work the luckier you get.

So why are you wasting time reading this?

---

What's on the turntable? "Bouncing Metal" by Laurent Garnier from "Shot in the Dark"

And I'm back in the room

and I have so much to say that I just don't know where to start - the end result is that this is probably going to be quite disjointed.

Currently I'm having fan-girl squees all over TV writer Howard Overman - which sounds as disgusting as something he might write for Nathan in Misfits; now in its second season and as brilliant as ever (he created and writes the series - it's not for the easily offended). Plus he wrote the new Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency adaptation - on BBC4 no less, not known for its fictional drama.

Since the London Screenwriters' Festival I have been waiting on the results of certain activities. I foolishly failed to take my own advice and had high hopes of the Channel 4 mentoring scheme. My usual advice to anyone is "enter and forget", I didn't do this and was seriously disappointed when I failed to get in. Very silly me.

On the other hand the Shine Pictures competition I did indeed enter and forget- just as well.

There is one more thing I entered which I was expecting the results of before Christmas but I suspect I won't hear anything until afterwards now. Which is fine.

(Note to self: reprogram computer keyboard driver so that when I type ';' with a 't' immediately after it it changes the ';' to an apostrophe - because that is the most common typo I make and it's really annoying.)

(Note about note to self: learn how to reprogram computer keyboard driver.)

The site I was working relaunched pretty successfully - and rather better than the US version of the site which had problems every time they did a relaunch of each of its eight sections (which they did by stages). We received a personal congratulatory email from the person at the top. Very nice.

As previously mentioned I do my "I am a rock" impression during these difficult periods (though not with the bad connotations of the Simon and Garfunkel song of the same name). And today one of the staff referred to me as a "saint" - I think she was going for a Saint Peter comparison but didn't quite make it. Being a rock is all very well but, you know, sometimes even rocks need to cry. (See what I did there? No? Check the lyrics, man!)

It's Christmas. And we have rail network problems. This does not bother me. I ignore them. And travel long distances by train and arrive as required. It's been said that if someone comes back with the instant quip, he's a comedian. But if he comes back half an hour later with the quip, he's a writer.

Well, I was standing on a busy station with 500 commuters who were waiting for a train that was going to be packed, and two people decided to take out their frustration on a network rail employee. I will not stand for that sort of thing so I told them to leave him alone, in my extreme writerly cleverness I said "Why don't you leave him alone?" so then they tried to take it out on me, I gave them my best condescending smile and just turned away as in "I am not listening to your nonsense."

Of course, half an hour later, after replaying the episode many many times I realised that a much better line - played loudly to the entire audience - would have been "Do you understand the meaning of the word bully?" which would have left them speechless. Then I could have turned away without the condescending smile to thunderous applause.

Might have got a punch in the mouth though. But it would have been in the cause of art, and there is no better cause than that.

Speaking of writing (brilliant segway) I am in the middle of a rewrite of the feature script Running. Thing is this: I had two chunks of feedback from the Blue Cat competition this year and both readers liked aspects of it but there were things to work on.

I began by completely re-working the opening - not the first few scenes because they are cool - but after that. And then I got stuck. Took me a whole 24 hours to realise that I was making a huge blunder: the readers liked the story, and here I was changing the story. Major ooops.

So I threw those changes away and put back what I had before.

However I do have a slight problem: the original version of the script was set in a generic US city, so cops with guns is perfectly normal. The new setting is Edinburgh (because I have someone who wants to read it and it needs to be set in Scotland - and Edinburgh is perfect for the premise). So guns suddenly cease to be common. Bit awkward, still, I'll manage.

And then I realised the first few scenes, though very exciting and jolly good action, don't actually make much sense if you examine the logic. Ooops again. Now this is the second time this has happened to me in the last three months (I had also realised the premise of Winter made no sense either - yes, Jez, you did say that. What can I say? I can be thick as a brick.)

So, as I crunched through snow this evening I figured out how to make it make sense, which then allowed me to have the original scenes and the new scenes. Script writing can be very satisfying.

Which brings me to my last point, for now.

Writers often say that they must write. It's a curious thing to me, as if it's some obsession, because I look at myself and I think "I'm not like that". I have no compulsion to write, I enjoy it but I don't mind stopping. Failing to write does not hurt.

But my recent failure in the Channel 4 mentoring scheme made me wonder whether I should bother writing at all. I fell to imagining not writing - thing is, I couldn't. I am incapable of imagining myself not writing. So while I have less compulsion - the creativity is there and it just isn't going away any time soon whether my work gets picked up by a film or TV company or not.

Funny that.

---

What's on the turntable? "All I want" by Joni Mitchell from "Blue"

Rumours of my demise

The day job has been very busy - I'm responsible for the redesign, rebuild and relaunch of a major UK website, next Thursday.

Lots of writing things have been going on in the background which I am not in a position to discuss at present. As with much writing stuff it may not even happen.

There have been some personal events which have been damned inconvenient.

But one maintains a jovial outlook and provides a rock for all others to cling to. (A pompous way of saying I don't let the bastards grind me down.)

The Boy is gearing up for Christmas - as a member of a brass band he's got lots of gigs. The Daughter is finishing her first term at Uni - there have been highs and lows. And The Teacher soldiers on - anyone who thinks it's easy being a teacher is living in cloud-cuckoo land. If only I could tell you what she tells me...

And if anyone thinks Amazon Studios is a good idea - try reading the small print. They make a big fuss about how bad Hollywood is, but they are a hundred times worse and are tied in the Warner Brothers anyway, so duh? If you believe your script is worth something, don't sign it away forever, which is what you will be doing by merely uploading it to Amazon Studios. And I do mean forever.

EDIT: Okay, not forever. But 18 months, during which time you get nothing.

You can't crowdsource creativity.

---

What's on the turntable? "Rhayader goes to Town" by Camel from "The Snow Goose"

That's interesting

You may have gathered from my recent posts that I've been thinking about Story a lot. This may or may not be a good thing, but I usually do it while walking so I'm not wasting valuable writing time.

I've been trying to get back to basics, down to the quantum level you might say (though I think that's (a) pretentious and (b) probably inaccurate). Anyway I thought I'd run a bit of it by you so you can say "that's stating the bloody obvious, mate".

Whenever I pretend to know something about writing I claim that Rule #1 is "don't bore the audience". This is not original though I don't know who said it first. Note that I'm using audience in the sense of "one or more individuals that perceive the work".

Why create something? Well unless it's a form of self-gratification, we create things so other people can look at them. But there's no point in them looking if there is nothing of interest.

So what we create has to be interesting. There, I told you it was obvious.

But that leads us to another meatier question: What makes something interesting?

Now I'm sure armchair philosophers could spend hours discussing this, but the only reason I even ask these questions is to get a practical and useful answer. Philosophising without a point is, well, pointless.

The trouble is that "What makes something interesting?" is the sort of subjective question that gets you nowhere. As is often the case it's better to ask the reverse: What makes something boring?

This is much easier and we can get a useful answer: lack of change.

This is easy to imagine in music: just keep repeating the same thing without any variation, it's boring. (How soon it becomes boring depends on personal taste, but it will get boring eventually.)

I leave it as an exercise for the reader to consider how this may (or may not) apply to writing.

---

What's on the turntable? "Definition of a Dog" by the Esbjörn Svensson Trio from "E.s.t. Live in Hamburg", 18 minutes of Jazz gorgeousness

A question of stakes

Not talking about fencing today though we may discuss Tae-Kwon Do. (I'm feeling in a frivolously twisted mood.)

The other day I was thinking about stakes - you know, why it's important the protagonist succeeds in their goal. There are things that have to be true about the stakes - we have to believe in them. That's the most important thing, believe that they really are important. Otherwise there's no point.

And then I thought about that utterly frivolous* film "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure" - which I love, can't deny it, it's on my list of films that I will watch again, and again, and again (etc).

So what about the stakes? The future of the world. Doesn't get much bigger. And yes it's a silly film, but within its own framework the stakes make perfect sense. Bill and Ted must pass their History presentation because without the music of Wyld Stallyns the world is doomed.

What about one of my other fave films? The Fugitive. Stakes? Protagonist accused of a crime he didn't commit - but it's all to do with a pharmaceutical company faking results from their drug trials, so the result would have a huge impact on society. (On a serious note let me draw your attention to this: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/health-11521873 .)

Of course the stakes aren't always global but if there are any bad consequences to the protagonist's failure make them as big as you can.

In other news

The Daughter is firmly ensconced at University and loving it. She says the lectures are good too. She's a Jujitus black belt but had also had some fun with TKD in the past, but the teacher wasn't very good. She's joined a TKD dojo at University and finds the teacher is part of the England squad and very good. Wouldn't surprise me if she's wondering whether she can qualify for 2012... she's not competitive, oh no, not at all.

The Boy has started his GCSE work at school, he's taken Music as an option and is getting the kind of teaching I wish I'd had: How to play Blues - you could just melt into that sax playing.

* Two frivoli in one blog. Lucky you.

---

What's on the turntable? "Morph the Cat" by Steely Dan (Donald Fagen) from Morph the Cat

What my mother never said

I went to the "Made in Dagenham" Q&A with writer William Ivory on Wednesday and I had written a blog on it. But I just deleted it because of what my mother never said: "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all".

It's not that he's a bad person or a bad writer (clearly not that) or that the interview was uninteresting, it's just I don't think he had anything to say worth repeating.

Damn. Just had to justify myself, didn't I, and see what happened?

Anyway I've been thinking about the science and technology of story. When I say technology I don't mean computers or software, or typewriters, or pens, or paper, or bits of stick with clay tablets.

Technology means techniques that can be applied to achieve a result. Anybody can be taught a technology of how to do something. Like the technology of plastering a wall. Doesn't mean they'll be a great wall plasterer but it means they could achieve a result that's not appalling (assuming they've practised the techniques as well).

Lack of technology is a bad thing when you're trying to achieve something, though occasionally you have to work it out for yourself. And sometimes there's bad technology which, if you try using it, will just end you up in trouble - and then you'll think "I can't do it" when the truth is: you don't know how, in fact worse, you think you know and you don't.

But let's do the science bit first.

I think you can divide "Story science" into two types, I have no idea what to call them but I know how to describe them, they are the Biology and the Physics of Story.

Originally (and still to a large extent) Biology is about classification. People looked at living things and began to classify them: Birds (feathers and fly), fish (live underwater) and so on.

Then there's Physics, about looking at things, suggesting rules to describe a situation, testing those rules to see if they work and if they work 100% of the time you've got a Law.

What's the Biology of Story? Campbell's Monomyth is an example of classification. So are Polti's 36 Dramatic Situations. Vogler's work is based on the Monomyth so that's classification too.

But, and I think this is important, sometimes you find something which does not fit the current classification. Does that mean it's not a living thing? Well, some people will say "yes, that is exactly what it means", like the man who, coming face to face with a giraffe, exclaimed "there ain't no such animal". Or the so-called doctor who proclaimed "I would rather err with Galen than accept Harvey's truth." - Galen stated blood moved like tides in the body, Harvey proved blood was pumped by the heart. Proof is not enough for some people.

The Monomyth is a classification. It does not mean that all stories have to contain those elements. They may but it cannot be stated as Truth.

What about the Physics of Story? Aristotle's Poetics, is the only one I can think of. Physics is different to Biology, Physics always applies. (I've probably pulled this metaphor a bit further than it should go, it's going to break any moment.)

Aristotle analysed plays that entertained and plays that failed to entertain (even though they were the same format and on the same subject) and came up with a set of principles which can be used to analyse any story to determine the degree to which it will succeed or fail.

(You have to understand that I write these blogs off the top of my head mostly - once they've had a chance to ferment a bit. This is not wine that's been laid down for years, more like a Beaujolais Nouveau.).

Then there's Story Technology - it's engineering. Engineering is about application of techniques (using tools) to produce the desired result - like a bridge. The bridge may not be perfect but as long as it does what it's supposed to do, then it's a good bridge.

Story technology is that. It's a form of engineering which may not produce a perfect story but as long as it does what it's supposed to do, then you've got a good story. (A bridge may be so well made that it's used as an example - so could a story, of course.)

So do we have story tools? Well, you can create a story that fits the Monomyth classification but that doesn't guarantee success. This happens all the time. Or you can apply Aristotle's principles and you will end up with something dramatic.

Of course a person's ability to apply these is dependent on their understanding and talent. So there's no guarantee it would be a great story. But it would work.

There are what you might call "lesser" tools, these are purely mechanical and designed to help you think through the story (index cards, for example). You can hammer a nail by hand, but it's easier and quicker to use a nail gun.

There are little bits of technology that can be used in specific areas, like dialogue: "Keep cutting out words until it stops meaning what it's supposed to mean - even if that means cutting the whole speech" (a little gem from Russell T Davies).

There are lots of tools to help you write well, whether and how you use them is up to you.

What about McKee? He comes under classification and "lesser" tools, that's not intended as an insult, it's just where he fits in this analysis.

---

What's on the turntable? "Time has told me" by Nick Drake from "Five Leaves Left"

It isn't real, y'know

I was doing the ironing, which is something I seem to do a lot of when I get home at weekends, and watching a film - we have a TV conveniently located in the room where the ironing is done. The film in question was the new Sherlock Holmes which is a fun film and good for passing the time when you're ironing.

The next bit is spoilery if you haven't seen it, but not seriously since I'm focussing on a very specific sequence near the beginning. And you actually know the result of the sequence before you see the process.

Holmes is in the process of disguising himself while on the move; he adds a false nose as the first step, then borrows Watson's coat. There is a circus setting up in one of the London squares he passes through and here he picks up most of his disguise. And the disguise works perfectly.

So far so good, what's my point?

It's a circus. Why is it a circus?

Look at it this way: he could have had all the pieces of his disguise in his rooms. But that's a bit boring, the fact that he has to pick things up en route makes it more interesting (also demonstrates his abilities as a thief, which is relevant, as is his skill at disguise). Then again he could have grabbed these items from any unsuspecting person he found along the way, perhaps some people playing cards.

But no, we do have lots of people he could have stolen from, but he has to go through a circus.

Because this is the biggest and most outrageous place he could come across in London. It's spectacle, it's exciting. And feasible.

When we write a story with a theme - something that's actually going to mean something to someone - it's not real. But it does have to be interesting and as the writer you are within your rights to make it as interesting as possible, more than a right, it's your duty.

The writer and blogger Alexandra Sokoloff wrote recently about the different rewrite passes you should do for your script (whether novel or screenplay) and that's what you need. It is possible that in the first draft of Sherlock Holmes the character did put together his disguise in his room. Or in a later draft, from people along the way. But a circus is better.

Stories are artificial constructs that have to appear completely real. The characters and the plot are a vehicle for the theme and, as such, they cannot be anything but artificial. But being artificial does not detract from the story, on the contrary, it's what makes the story.

But ironing is very real - perhaps I should spice it up with some extreme ironing.

---

What's on the turntable? "Piano improvisations" by Emerson, Lake and Palmer from "Welcome back, my friends..."

Pete Dwan...

...is hard. Seriously hard. He grew up and still lives in (I think) a place most of us would not want to drive through even at 100mph.

And he is one of the most decent people you could meet. This link is him reading the first chapter of a novella he recently completed.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vjEplsjnR70

It may be that he's not the greatest writer in the world, but there's an authenticity you can't argue with (and if you did he'd come round to your place and punch you into next Tuesday - well he would, if he wasn't such a nice bloke).

I had the honour of reading some of his early work a few years back and advising him, though I hadn't seen this and in a way I'm glad, because it was fresh.

---

What's on the turntable? Pete's story

Novel advice

A friend of mine has written a novel. It's his first - and he finished it, which is an achievement in its own right. Knowing that I have some experience with both writing and editing (I have edited novels for money) he asked if I would have a look at the first two chapters.

Like most beginning writers he was very nervous about the whole thing, and feeling vulnerable. Yup, been there. Anyway I thought I'd post my response to him here:

There were two things I had a problem with between your first and second chapter, although the first chapter is really a prologue. But they are related.

The ch.1 is not terribly interesting, it's all quite vague and in generalities, lots of "the greatest" this and "the best" that, plus the whole chapter is "telling the reader stuff" and "telling the reader stuff" and "telling the reader stuff". Way over the top. But ch.2 is very precise, it's about something happening to somebody.

Readers need someone to focus on and identify with, that's not possible in ch.1. To achieve that the reader has to become part of the creation process in the writing, you need to let them figure stuff out, let them wonder, make them think "what's going on?". Readers (viewers, whatever the medium) are not mere spectators (not even in music) - at least not if it's good. If it's good they join in. That's why ch.1 is tedious.

But look at ch.2, the reader knows nothing about what's going on. We're introduced to this character who is young and apparently a slave. And something's going on with something in his leg ... wow, weird, interesting, different. I immediately start thinking up possible scenarios about what's going on.

At least I would except...

Having read ch.1 and ch.2, I know the plot. It's obvious - okay I may not know the details, but I know the general trajectory. Ch.1 gives it all away.

It's good for you to know the backstory - in fact it's vital - but not the reader. The story needs unravel, ideally in an unexpected but logical way - the more unexpected (but still logical) the story is the better the reader will like it.

Anyway, now you've done that you need to read this:

http://thedarksalon.blogspot.com/2009/08/screenwriting-tricks-for-authors-table.html

I know it says screenwriting, but the stuff about novel writing starts halfway down.

And to any any other budding novel writers out there: No, I will not read it.

Sorry.

---

What's on the turntable? Jack Frost and the Hooded Crow" by Jethro Tull from "Broadsword and the Beast"