The Things I've Seen About This Whole Fucking DOGE Thing, From Reputable Sources, So Far Have Been

Writing from Scratch #2:

What is a Plot?

Different people mean different things when they use the word “plot,” and they are all correct, if not as descriptive as they could be.

Some people mean a story structure, like the 3-Act Structure; some people mean a plot archetype, like an underdog sports plot or a heist plot; some people mean the negative to positive or positive to negative trajectory of the main character, like Rags to Riches; and some people mean “to plot” as in “to outline.”

Throughout Writing from Scratch, when I say “plot,” I’ll be referring to the definition I’ve already hinted at: a plot is a problem and its solution. Plots of this nature can be very long if the solution takes a while for the character to arrive at or very short if the solution is solved without much trouble. In a story with multiple plots of this type, the plot that has its problem first introduced and last solved is what I will call the Long Plot.

Plot-Problems

There are four umbrella types that plots of this kind fall under – all based on the type of problem the plot has. And these are called the MICE* plot-problems.

Milieu

Inquiry

Character

Event

Over the next few posts, I will be diving into each in turn.

*The MICE Quotient was developed by Orson Scott Card, but I do deviate in my approach from the way Scott Card developed it and from the way most other writers teach it.

Plot-Solutions

A plot’s solution comes through what are referred to as the Try-Fail Cycles. The character is introduced to the problem, tries to solve it, and succeeds or fails. Most plots are solved after the character has failed to solve it at least once.

The Try-Fail typically goes in one of two directions: “Yes, but…” or “No, and…”

The “Yes, but” failure follows the character trying something with “yes, that technically worked, but now a new aspect of the same problem has been revealed.”

Obi-Wan and Luke hire Han and Chewie to take them and the droids to Alderaan. Yes, Han and Chewie get them to where Alderaan should be in orbit, but the Death Star got there first and blew the planet up.

The “No, and” failure follows the character trying something with “no, that didn’t work, and now the situation has worsened as a result.”

Harry and Ron run off to warn Hermione that there is a troll loose in the castle and get her to come back with them to the Gryffindor Common Room. No, they do not get a chance to warn Hermione about the troll, and they have locked the troll in the girls’ bathroom with Hermione.

“No, and” can also be a final – fatal – plot-solution, but this is not usually very satisfying. The ultimate plot solutions are typically either “Yes, and…” or “No, but…”

Prompt: Analyze a plot (that is a problem (subject) and solution with try-fail cycles (predicate)) in a favorite book, movie, or TV episode. I'll be posting my analysis this Sunday; if you're from the future, check it out here!

If you want to read more, you can check out my over 80 WfS posts on my website theferalcollection.com

Writing from Scratch #4

The Milieu Plot

The problem of the milieu plot involves a problem of location or setting. The character is often either in a place they need/want to escape from or not in the specific place they need/want to be in. The try-fail cycles will involve traveling away from or to the location. Gulliver’s Travels, The Great Escape, and The Hobbit contain milieu plots.

The Lord of the Rings contains one very large milieu – the problem of getting the One Ring from the Shire where its been hidden for a number of years to Mordor where it can finally be destroyed. We can further break this down into smaller milieu plots. Let’s look at one: the problem of crossing the Misty Mountains. (And we’ll use the events as they occur in the movie, since more people have watched that than read the book)

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Structuring a Series: Part II

Structuring a Series: Part II: Extrapolating Complete Episodes from the Trilogy #writerslife

Welcome back! If you haven’t checked out Part I already, go ahead and do that; we’ll be right here when you get back. Extrapolating Complete Episodes from the Trilogy (more…)

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Writing from Scratch #1

Welcome to Writing from Scratch!

I’ve been writing a long time, and sometimes it feels like I lose the trees for the forest. Writing from Scratch is a chance for me (and you!) to get back to the basics of storytelling.

If you’ve never written a story before, if you’ve never felt like you could come up with one that would be worth writing, my hope is that if you follow along with me here, you will have the confidence and know-how to come up with an idea, build it into a story, and share it with the world.

These posts will be little, easy-to-digest nuggets. At the end of every post, look for a prompt and share your response in the comments!

What Is a Story?

A story can be defined by what it contains: at least one plot, character, and setting, and a style through which it is told.

Story Bits

To begin, let’s take a look at the second smallest unit of a story – the sentence. A sentence is a set of words that conveys a complete thought. And communication is fractal, meaning each part shares the same pattern as the whole. A story and its components, therefore, will also convey a Complete Thought.

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Review of The Dresden Files: Peace Talks (spoilers ahead)

This review is gonna be slightly different than my normal reviews as I am the only Paules Sibling of Awesome who reads The Dresden Files, so I have not talked through my thoughts with B beforehand. I also don't see the necessity of providing a rating for a book that is the sixteenth in a series (not counting the short story collections) - clearly I enjoy the books. Spoilers ahead!

So, the peace talks in question went about as disastrously as expected knowing Harry Dresden was involved, but obviously I didn't expect that. Years ago, Jim Butcher promised us an apocalyptic trilogy to end the series (titled Stars and Stones, Hell's Bells, and Empty Night, in case you missed it), but I never figured we'd actually get to a point where that ending seems in sight.

My big fear going into this was that Karrin Murphy would not survive. I was pleased to see that a) she did and b) she was as badass as ever, despite her injuries from Skin Game. Of course, who knows what will happen in Battle Ground, but really my only hope is that Murphy makes it to the end of the series. Just Murphy and Harry at the end of things, just as they were at the beginning.

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On Liking Stuff (or not)

So, back when Ancillary Justice was essentially sweeping that year’s SF awards, there was some talk from certain quarters about it not really being all that, people only claimed to like it because Politics and SJWs and PC points and Affirmative Action and nobody was really reading the book and if they were they didn’t really enjoy it, they just claimed they did so they could seem cool and woke.

My feelings were so hurt that I wept bitter, miserable tears every time I drove to the bank with my royalty checks. I mean, those people must be right, it’s totally typical for non-fans who don’t actually like a book to write fanfic or draw fan art, totally boringly normal for students to choose to write papers about a book that just isn’t really very good or interesting, and for professors to use that boringly not-very-good book in their courses, and for that book to continue to sell steadily five years after it came out. I totally did not laugh out loud whenever I came across such assertions, because they were absolutely not ridiculous Sour Grape Vineyards tended by folks who, for the most part, hadn’t even read the book.

Now I am sorry–but not surprised–to see some folks making similar assertions about N.K. Jemisin’s historic (and entirely deserved) Hugo Threepeat. Most of them haven’t read the books in question.

But some of them have. Some of them have indeed read the books and not understood why so many people are so excited by them.

Now, Nora doesn’t need me to defend her, and she doesn’t need lessons from me about the best way to dry a tear-soaked award-dusting cloth, or the best brands of chocolate ice cream to fortify yourself for that arduous trip to the bank. Actually, she could probably give me some pointers.

But I have some thoughts about the idea that, because you (generic you) didn’t like a work, that must mean folks who say they did like it are Lying Liars Who Lie to Look Cool.

So, in order to believe this, one has to believe that A) one’s own taste is infallible and objective and thus universally shared and B) people who openly don’t share your taste are characterless sheep who will do anything to seem cool.

But the fact is, one doesn’t like or dislike things without context. We are all of us judging things from our own point of view, not some disembodied perfectly objective nowhere. It’s really easy to assume that our context is The Context–to not even see that there’s a context at all, it’s just How Things Are. But you are always seeing things from the perspective of your experiences, your biases, your expectations of how things work. Those may not match other people’s.

Of course, if you’re in a certain category–if you’re a guy, if you’re White, if you’re straight, if you’re cis–our society is set up to make that invisible, to encourage you in the assumption that the way you see things is objective and right, and not just a product of that very society. Nearly all of the readily available entertainment is catering to you, nearly all of it accepts and reinforces the status quo. If you’ve never questioned that, it can seem utterly baffling that people can claim to enjoy things that you see no value in. You’ll maybe think it makes sense to assume that such people are only pretending to like those things, or only like them for reasons you consider unworthy. It might not ever occur to you that some folks are just reading from a different context–sometimes slightly different, sometimes radically different, but even a small difference can be enough to make a work seem strange or bafflingly flat.

Now, I’m sure that there are people somewhere at some time who have in fact claimed to like a thing they didn’t, just for cool points. People will on occasion do all kinds of ill-advised or bananapants things. But enough of them to show up on every SF award shortlist that year? Enough to vote for a historic, record-breaking three Hugos in a row? Really?

Stop and think about what you’re saying when you say this. Stop and think about who you’re not saying it about.

You might not have the context to see what a writer is doing. When you don’t have the context, so much is invisible. You can only see patterns that match what you already know.*

Of course, you’re not a helpless victim of your context–you can change it, by reading other things and listening to various conversations. Maybe you don’t want to do that work, which, ok? But maybe a lot of other folks have indeed been doing that, and their context, the position they’re reading stories from, has shifted over the last several years. It’s a thing that can happen.

Stop and think–you’ve gotten as far as “everyone must be kind of like me” and stepped over into “therefore they can’t really like what they say they like because I don’t like those things.” Try on “therefore they must really mean it when they say they like something, because I mean it when I say it.” It’s funny, isn’t it, that so many folks step into the one and not the other. Maybe ask yourself why that is.

This also applies to “pretentious” writing. “That writer is only trying to look smart! Readers who say they like it are only trying to look smarter that me, a genuine,honest person, who only likes down-to-earth plain solid storytelling.” Friend, your claims to be a better and more honest person because of your distaste for “pretentious” writing is pretension itself, and says far more about you than the work you criticize this way. You are exactly the sort of snob you decry, and you have just announced this to the world.

Like or don’t like. No worries. It’s not a contest, there’s no moral value attached to liking or not liking a thing. Hell, there are highly-regarded things I dislike, or don’t see the appeal of! There are things I love that lots of other folks don’t like at all. That’s life.

And sure, if you want to, talk about why you do or don’t like a thing. That’s super interesting, and thoughtful criticism is good for art.

But think twice before you sneer at what other folks like, think three times before you declare that no one could really like a thing so it must be political correctness, or pretension, or whatever. Consider the possibility that whatever it is is just not your thing. Consider the possibility that it might be all right if not everything is aimed at you. Consider that you might not actually be the center of the universe, and your opinions and tastes might not be the product of your utterly rational objective view of the world. Consider the possibility that a given work might not have been written just for you, but for a bunch of other people who’ve been waiting for it, maybe for a long time, and that might just possibly be okay.

____ *Kind of like the way some folks insist my Ancillary trilogy is obviously strongly influenced by Iain Banks (who I’d read very little of, and that after AJ was already under way) and very few critics bring up the influence of C.J. Cherryh (definitely there, deliberate, and there are several explicit hat tips to her work in the text). Those folks have read Banks, but they haven’t read Cherryh. They see something that isn’t there, and don’t see what is there, because they don’t have the same reading history I do. It’s interesting to me how many folks assume I must have the same reading history as they do. It’s interesting to me how sure they are of their conclusions.

(Crossposted from https://www.annleckie.com/2018/08/27/on-liking-stuff-or-not/)

Wait, so diversity is not a problem in Hollywood anymore? Nope, we solved it. Wow!

So somebody on my Facebook posted this. And I’ve seen sooooo many memes like it. Images of a canvas with nothing but a slash cut into it, or a giant blurry square of color, or a black circle on a white canvas. There are always hundreds of comments about how anyone could do that and it isn’t really art, or stories of the time someone dropped a glove on the floor of a museum and people started discussing the meaning of the piece, assuming it was an abstract found-objects type of sculpture.

The painting on the left is a bay or lake or harbor with mountains in the background and some people going about their day in the foreground. It’s very pretty and it is skillfully painted. It’s a nice piece of art. It’s also just a landscape. I don’t recognize a signature style, the subject matter is far too common to narrow it down. I have no idea who painted that image.

The painting on the right I recognized immediately. When I was studying abstraction and non-representational art, I didn’t study this painter in depth, but I remember the day we learned about him and specifically about this series of paintings. His name was Ad Reinhart, and this is one painting from a series he called the ultimate paintings. (Not ultimate as in the best, but ultimate as in last.)

The day that my art history teacher showed us Ad Reinhart’s paintings, one guy in the class scoffed and made a comment that it was a scam, that Reinhart had slapped some black paint on the canvas and pretentious people who wanted to look smart gave him money for it. My teacher shut him down immediately. She told him that this is not a canvas that someone just painted black. It isn’t easy to tell from this photo, but there are groups of color, usually squares of very very very dark blue or red or green or brown. They are so dark that, if you saw them on their own, you would call each of them black. But when they are side by side their differences are apparent. Initially you stare at the piece thinking that THAT corner of the canvas is TRUE black. Then you begin to wonder if it is a deep green that only appears black because the area next to it is a deep, deep red. Or perhaps the “blue” is the true black and that red is actually brown. Or perhaps the blue is violet and the color next to it is the true black. The piece challenges the viewer’s perception. By the time you move on to the next painting, you’re left to wonder if maybe there have been other instances in which you believe something to be true but your perception is warped by some outside factor. And then you wonder if ANY of the colors were truly black. How can anything be cut and dry, black and white, when even black itself isn’t as absolute as you thought it was?

People need to understand that not all art is about portraying a realistic image, and that technical skills (like the ability to paint a scene that looks as though it may have been photographed) are not the only kind of artistic skills. Some art is meant to be pretty or look like something. Other art is meant to carry a message or an idea, to provoke thought.

Reinhart’s art is utterly genius.

“But anyone could have done that! It doesn’t take any special skill! I could have done that!”

Ok. Maybe you could have. But you didn’t.

Give abstract art some respect. It’s more important than you realize.

Story idea: the local Academy of Magic has an Archaeology Department. They have an ongoing feud with the Necromancy Department because necromancers keep stealing bones from the archaeological lab, and archaeologists keep interrupting necromancy rites to ask the undead about their funerary rites.

The two departments also keep arguing over which one of them has the highest count of “ooops-found-an-ancient-evil-thing-and-almost-destroyed-the-world”.