Category Archives: The Craft of Writing

Articles about writing craft, from plots to scenes.

“The first idea to final book”-scale in creative writing

When talking about the craft of writing, one piece of information regarding techniques and advice is more fundamental than many others: Where on the scale from first idea to final book does this piece of information or advice belong?

The scale

The scale loosely:

  1. Idea + (maybe) Synopsis
  2. First draft
  3. Editing
  4. Final draft (from the author)
  5. More editing/drafting in preparation of editing, perhaps with a publisher
  6. Final draft ready for publishing
  7. Published book
  8. Literary analysis etc.

You may also have a bunch of drafts from a beta reader process.

Where does that piece of advice belong?

A book is very different when it is a first draft to be edited and when it is a published work to undergo literary analysis.

Advice that is perfectly reasonable for a final book may be totally inappropriate for a first draft.

A first draft really only have to exist (or more bluntly, it’s always going to be shit in need of editing). Applying the whole “what must exist in a good piece of literature” to a first draft or even before sitting down to write one just risks deadlocking the writing process and cause anxiety and anguish.

Once you know if the advice or technique speaks of the draft, the finished work, the editing, the ideas phase or whatever else, you also know when to apply it, if it is important for you right now, or maybe even more importantly, if it’s something you want to use at all.

First drafting paradigms

One important discussion is what should happen between ideas and the first draft. Should anything happen (outlining) or should the first draft come purely from ideas (seats of pants) and then be edited into something that seems very planned?

This one depends on who you are as a writer. I’ve landed in that how “quick” your creative engine is will be one important factor. If you can switch it on and off, jump between scenes in the story with it without problem, then outlining may be for you. If, on the other hand, it’s like a hundred-car train that need a lot of effort to get going and then will keep going no matter what and no matter where, then seat-of-the-pants may be more your style.

Understanding Antagonists

A key ingredient to a good story is to make sure your antagonist is fantastic. They need to be stronger than the protagonist, they need to evoke empathy in the reader, and they need to have a believable plan.

To give the antagonist a great plan, ask “what will the positive consequences of the antagonist’s plan be, if they are successful?”

Yes, you heard right. The positive effects of the villain’s plan.

There are several types of conflicts where this isn’t hard to answer. If the villain and the hero are competing against each other in some form of zero-sum game, then the villain will be the winner if their plan succeeds.

If you can convince your reader that the villain believe in their plan, and believe it will make some part of the world or their world a better place, the reader will believe in the villain and their plan, and while they might not agree at all, they’ll understand where the plan comes from, and that understanding is crucial to believing in the antagonist.

Of course, if you want to go into very deep water with a villain that for instance decides to solve global warming by killing off half the population, you have a much harder work to both motivate the villain’s thinking and keep them empathetic to the reader.

I think the most important function of an antagonist is to show that however evil they are, what they do falls within the boundaries of the human condition. Given the right circumstances, it could be you or me. And it is in exactly that point of doubt the greatest chills from a fantastic antagonist comes.

If you want to write a good story, convince the reader they could be the victim of the murderer. If you want to write a fantastic story, convince them they could be the murderer.

Then, of course, the final step is to use story and the story world to show the reader why they would not want to be the murderer by showing the consequences of being a villain. The villain is, after all, the antagonist of the story.

First drafts

In short, writing a novel consists of the following steps/phases/whatever you want to call them, hurdles?:

  1. Come up with an idea, research etc. to get enough to know what to write about. Here, you may also want to polish that idea into a synopsis, snowflake or other “writing plan” (there are tons of different ideas out there on how to do this)
  2. Write the first draft.
  3. Edit the first draft. (+ likely more researching).
  4. Now we’ve reached the point where we either involve editors etc. for self-publishing or try to shop the book to an agent or publisher.
  5. More editing, more rewriting, more more until finally you push the “publish button”. I’ve also heard, breathing into paper bags might be involved in the before or after of pushing that button…

Not to mention marketing a novel or a career, regardless of if you are self-publishing or working with a publisher/agent.

Today, I’m focusing on step 2 and 3.

I’ve seen some interesting questions from people struggling with their first draft. The interesting thing about these questions is that they are seldom “first draft questions” in the sense they are questions about how to perfect the text in a time when perfection will be your enemy.

I once read a book (I think it was by Sanaya Roman) about how we avoid being successful by piling on enough hard tasks that it will be impossible to change.

Let’s say you decide to quit smoking. Your devious mind, all against change, suggests, if you really want to be healthy you need to eat better as well, and exercise, and hey, it’s healthy with social interactions, join a club or two, and that garage needs fixing too. Now that you’ve decided to become a better person, let’s add the garage and the garden to the list as well.

You quickly decide quitting smoking seems like a major task, and maybe you could postpone it a bit.

While writing a novel is hardly like quitting smoking, it is a change in its own way. You may very well fear what would happen if you became a famous bestseller and had fans chasing you down the street, or maybe more commonly nobody wanted to read what you wrote, and it was in fact crap even though it seems so great right now in your head.

Your mind will want to protect you against that change, just like any other change.

One way to do that is to claim the first draft must be PERFECT or you might as well quit right now.

Hence, all the questions about proper verb usage, dialog writing, theme, tension, style, etc. etc.

We worry about the details in order to prevent ourselves from finishing the first draft and risking realizing that it is crap and useless and no good and by no means ready for publication.

Now the hard truth. But for it to sink in properly, I give you a quote from Hemingway himself:

“The first draft of anything is shit.”

Hemingway via Arnold Samuelson

That’s a bit harsh, but what it really means is that in order to have a text ready for publication, you’ll have to edit it into shape after the first draft is finished.

Others have also said, writing is rewriting, and you can’t edit an empty page.

So, rather than worrying about the text not being perfect in the first draft (or God forbid, sending your unedited first draft to a publisher or agent assuming you’re no good when they won’t reply or send you a form mail back) you produce a first draft that stinks seven ways to Sunday, and then you edit it, rewrite it, and polish it until you’ve removed everything from that slab that wasn’t David.

Here’s another quote if you feel the above one is unkind to your newborn first draft:

“Every first draft is perfect because all the first draft has to do is exist.”

Jane Smiley

This, of course, is not true for the final novel, but without a first draft you have nothing to edit into a final novel.

Rethinking the Sequel

I’ve been thinking about Dwight Swain’s Scene–Sequel construct for some time now, and I’ve come to the conclusion that its definition and interpretation by today’s writers is causing some serious problems, especially for inexperienced writers.

Scene-Sequel?

What is a Scene and a Sequel? These are two types of elements in a fictional story as defined by Dwight Swain in his “Techniques for the Selling Writer.”

The Scene consists of:

  • A character goal
  • Opposition to this goal resulting in conflict
  • An outcome, preferably a negative one… even a disaster….

The main function of the Scene is to create drama by showing us the point of view character trying to achieve the goal in spite of the opposition.

The Sequel on the other hand consists of:

  • An emotional reaction to the previous outcome
  • A dilemma and deliberation on how to go on
  • A decision that will in turn give rise to a new goal for the next Scene

The main function of the Sequel is to propel us from one scene to the next. To telescope between scenes as Swain calls it.

One way to use these would of course be to mix them in a Scene-Sequel-Scene-pattern on and on. But usually, you’d have more Scenes than Sequels.

Problem 1: What is a Sequel?

Why did Dwight Swain call the Sequel a “Sequel”? Why didn’t he use some other terms suggested by interpreters of his theory, like “reaction scene” (as opposed to the “action scene”) or “reactive scene” (as opposed to the “proactive scene”)?

He didn’t do that. He called it a Sequel.

My interpretation is that he did this because the Sequel was never supposed to be a scene on its own or even worse a scene in its own chapter. The Sequel was always intended to be a follow-up on a scene. Something that follows a scene like a tail follows a dog.

It can also be used to introduce a scene. A “how we get from the previous scene to what’s going to happen now.”

This way of turning the Sequel into a “prequel” is common when you want to use the outcome or setback to create a page turner. You want to end the scene with a catastrophe and do the transportation in the beginning of the next scene instead.

Problem 2: So, you’re only allowed to react in the tail end of the scene?

The definition of a Sequel as something that (may) begin with a reaction is very problematic and it risks luring the inexperienced writer into thinking you should save all your reactions for the Sequel and have none in the Scene.

Obviously, every single one of your scenes should be an intricate web of actions and reactions, stimuli and responses. This is not something that should only happen in one section of the text, it should permeate the text from the first to the last page.

Other things that have been suggested that only the sequel should contain (which I contend should also be present at selected locations or throughout your Scenes):

  • Showing theme
  • Showing setting
  • Revealing backstory
  • Flashbacks/Backflashes
  • Setting the mood

I’m even going so far as saying a flashback is a scene—you’d better make it at least as dramatic as one of your scenes or we’ll start skimming. And a backflash (when you do a micro flashback in one, or at most two, sentences) belongs in a scene as well.

As for deliberating on solutions for previous disasters and making decisions about how to go on? Yes, most of the time this is likely boring and should be part of the Sequel, but not always. There can be points, for instance, in suspense or comedy where a Scene should contain these elements.

Rethinking the Sequel

The definition of the Scene is pretty solid, with the exception that sometimes, especially when creating tension or tempo, scenes may not actually have all the elements of the scene as proposed by Swain. When Tom Clancy does 50-word scenes in his plot points the whole apparatus of goal-opposition-setback will be spread out over several such scenes, creating a “Swain-Scene” spread over several shorter scene-snippets.

But on the whole, presented as one solid section of text, or spread in several, a scene should definitely have a goal, opposition, and an outcome, and to make the text dramatic, that outcome should mostly be negative to the protagonist.

The telescoping/transporting quality of the Sequel is also a very solid proposition. It should definitely be something that propels us from one scene of showing to the other. However, some things need to be redefined with regards to the Sequel.

It is not the only place for reactions.

By placing the reaction to the setback in a separate “section” of the text Swain might have wanted to suggest the scene and it’s finalizing setback should be handled in one section of the text and then the reaction to that setback should be handled in another, later, part of the text, in order to create for instance a cliffhanger or otherwise create suspense.

Using cliffhangers and building suspense can be done with or without a specific scene structure, and with or without Sequels that contains reactions. The on-page text can be designed however works best. Placing the reaction in the sequel only adds problems rather than solving them.

The Sequel is also not the only place for things like flashbacks, theme, setting, and/or mood. These things should be employed both in a Sequel and a Scene.

Ask yourself, with for instance theme and tone, do you do these best as something you tell the reader or something you show them? Do you do them best mixed up with action or in some kind of pause/reaction/deliberation chamber separated from the ongoing events of the story? How will, by the way, such a parking-lot section of the text feel to the reader?

The Sequel can contain just the same content as a Scene can.

The difference between a Scene and a Sequel is in their respective sizes and if you only show them or also tell them.

In the Scene, you show (preferably with no telling at all) and it’s long.

In the Sequel, you mix showing and telling and it’s as short as it can be.

How short? Half a page? Great. One page… uh, ok… two pages… ooohkay… Three… getouttahere!

Remember, it’s purely a transportation between dramatic scenes! If you can get away with one sentence, or one paragraph, and you often can, you do it!

An “at the same time in Bob’s apartment,” might not win you a Nobel prize but it will get the job done and if you vary it enough it will be perfect. You don’t need a whole scene if it’s not important.

Whether to use a Scene or a Sequel is all about the dramatic potential of the event and the focus of the story.

If it is dramatic and if that drama is relevant to the story, make it into a Scene. Otherwise, use a Sequel.

Drama can come both from hot action scenes and tense low key suspenseful scenes. If, on the other hand, it’s just transportation, use a Sequel.

Design your story by listing the events you think should be in it (or find the events by analyzing the first draft). Weed out anything that isn’t vital to the story in all its aspects. Pick the 75% or so most important and dramatic events. These are your Scenes. The rest are your Sequels.

You can use fewer or more Sequels to tell more or less in the same amount of pages, but at above 1/4 to 1/3 Sequels, you might want to consider cutting some low priority events or your Sequels will be too long or too numerous.

The reaction to the setback

Finally, the Scene-Sequel construct instructs us to place strong emotional reactions after catastrophic setbacks, and that is sound writing.

While the scene is a weave of action and reaction a huge setback requires a stronger emotional response.

Depending on what type of story you’re writing, your characters might swallow the response down, showing no more than a tear in the corner of their eyes before they reload and pursue the antagonist with even stronger drive and purpose, or your whole story could center around an emotional response to a catastrophe that may not even be part of the story. Or anything in between.

The important point is, you don’t need some special type of scene to write that emotional response… you just write a scene, a part of a scene or several scenes showing it. Maybe it becomes an undertone in all the scenes following the catastrophe? Or, you may even tell it in a Sequel.

What works best depends on the genre, the focus of the story, what you need to build and motivate your characters, and most importantly what you want the reader’s takeaway to be.

Examples

Alice and Bob

Let’s take an example:

Alice and Bob meet on their first day in College. That moment gets a scene. However, after that, they fall in love, become boyfriend/girlfriend and nothing of much note happens for the rest of the year. That’s a Sequel. Their tear-filled goodbyes at the end of the school year get another Scene and then the story progresses to tell us about how they cheat on one another during the summer break.

Or maybe the story is about that first year and the drama of falling in love for the first time. Then the year will be full of Scenes and Sequels.

Or maybe the story is about coming back from summer break for year two and the drama of having been unfaithful during the break.

The fact that a Scene should end in a disaster tells us that we shouldn’t use scenes for events that progress with no drama.

If Bob and Alice don’t have drama in their love story, it gets a Sequel. If, on the other hand, there are tons of drama in that love story, then it gets tons of scenes.

Alias

If you want to see a great example of Sequels used to their fullest potential, check out the TV series Alias. They manage to get a staggering amount of things done in one 45 minute episode because of the very clever use of Sequels.

For all Sydney Bristow’s travel between countries and cities of the world, we rarely see the inside of an airport or an airplane. Instead, there’s the Alias theme music, a shot of some symbolic building and a text with the name of the country or city, and boom! We’re in Spain or Paris or anywhere else in the world and we go straight to the Scene with virtually no transportation at all.

One episode can have Sydney travel across the world and still have time for her personal life and work-life and school life…

That’s using Sequels like a pro, and not a single one of them contain any emotional reactions. It’s pure transportation and it makes it possible to have tons of action and have time for some interpersonal drama and character building as well. All in under 45 minutes.

Mystery, Horror, Suspense

Distinguish between mystery, horror, and suspense:

“In a mystery you might find out that a person was beheaded. This occurs before the narrative begins, so the focus of the story is on solving the crime. If you’re writing a horror story, you’ll show the beheading itself—in all of its gory detail. If you’re writing suspense, the characters in the story will find out that someone is going to be beheaded, and they must find a way to stop it.”

/ Elements of Suspense in Writing: 6 Secrets to Creating and Sustaining Suspense – Writer’s Digest

The But/Therefore Technique of Plotting

Find boring scenes that may not belong in the story by listing the beats (scenes, maybe in some cases chapters) of the story, and if you can put a “but” or a “therefore” between two of these beats, you’re good to go.

If on the other hand you have to put an “and then” between them, you’re in trouble and likely creating a story that isn’t entirely glued together and as cohesive as it could/should be.