Category Archives: tools

3 Ways to Write Better Poetry

So you’re a poet who wants to improve your craft. Maybe you’re a writer who’s thinking about making the jump into poetry. Or maybe you’re a creative person looking for a new way to express yourself.

Whoever you are, wherever you are in your life’s journey, welcome to poetry.

Poetry is a powerful, timeless art form unlike any other. It twists and conforms language into unusual combinations to deliver meaning and expand our perspective of the world.

What is a poem?

A poem is whatever it wants to be. When someone says “poetry is ____” they destroy the essence of a poem. If that’s the case, then how do you define a “poem”?

A poem is a brush stroke on an empty canvas.

A poem is a gust of summer breeze that clutches your hair on its way to the north pole.

A poem is a mud puddle.

A poem is a falling leaf.

A poem is the first sip of a fresh beverage.

A poem is a broken pencil covered in dog sh*t on the sidewalk.

A poem is whatever you want it to be.

How to write better poetry

Now that we know what a poem is, let’s get down to brass tacks: how to write better poetry.

I could tell you to go out and experiment with poetic forms , classic rhyming poetry and modern free verse poetry, but you can learn how to do that from anywhere.

Instead, let’s take a look at three strategies that have served me well in my personal journey as a writer, both in terms of growth and getting poems published.

Want to read some of my published poems? Check it out.

1. Describe around something

This technique is one of the most helpful for a poet. The idea here is to describe something without ever directly labeling it for what it is. In labeling something, you diminish it only to the 1- or 2-dimensional image conjured by the label’s name.

For example, try describing a tree without using the words “tree,” “wood”, “forest,” or “bark”—much like what we did in the What is a poem? section above.

Try it out, see where it leads you. Surprise yourself with what you get.

In the following poem by Erin Cunningham (used with permission), the poet describes a river without using the words “river,” “stream,” or “water.” The subject matter is only labeled in the title, but not in the body itself.

American River, North Fork
by Erin Cunningham

foam tents tumble down
	the forest’s snake

ice scurries through my
	toes, my fingers

immersed with angled stones,
	silt, sand shimmers

spent sun paints your road white
	like gems, it glitters

how your calm rinses city’s stain,
	the stink of stress and toil

what wonders wait around
	your emerald elbow

what secret snakes, minnows,
	bears, hawks hide?

will golden flecks settle
	in slick palms?

will my feet sink
	into her bed

become her loam?

perhaps I’ll build a roof
	upon her beachy banks

retire from all societal care
	my mind made smooth

as her whispering rhythm

but with daylight’s eclipse
	Monday is waiting

Note how, at the very end, she gives the poem an additional layer of meaning that makes us re-examine the entire poem with a new perspective.

2. Write write write, then cut cut cut

This is another powerful technique to add to your poetic toolbelt. After you’ve written your poem, go through and cut all unnecessary words. Then go through it and cut out even more. Small words like articles and prepositions and even many adjectives should be at the top of the list.

Now cut out even more words. Chop down each line to just the bones.

And then cut it again.

Cut beyond what you’re comfortable with and see what’s left (remember, you can always add words back in).

Experiment with using punctuation, white space, formatting, and placement on the page to enhance your minimalist poem and replace eliminated words.

As with technique #1, you’ll surprise yourself.

For example, let’s take the four-line stanza:

When the lightning rod stands upright
defiant in the weather, unbreakable femur bone
against the rain, you are thunder’s shivering spear
strike deep, Thor’s arrow, find your mark!

And cut cut cut, then cut some more. Until we get the much leaner, more modern:

lightning rod
weather bone
thunder's spear
strike deep

Has a completely different feel, doesn’t it?

You don’t have to write every poem like this—you don’t have to write any poem like this—but it’s a good technique to master to help improve your poetic craft.

Less is more.

3. Imitate another poet

Life imitates art. Art imitates life. Poets imitate poets. There’s nothing wrong with this. In fact, many poets find themselves so inspired by a poem that they simply must write a poem of their own to celebrate the original.

In this technique, you will use an existing poet’s style or individual poem as a jumping-off point for your own.

Look to the poem in question as you write, following the phrase structure, line length, punctuation, topic—whatever you feel in the moment—as you go.

Here are a few helpful tips to get you started:

  • Use the same number of words or syllables per line.
  • Follow the same phrase structure, but change the text itself.
  • Start the poem by replacing words with antonyms.
  • Copy the shape, lines per stanza, or length of lines.
  • Write your poem on the same subject but with a different perspective.
  • Contradict the original with a direct rebuttal.

You may find that halfway through this exercise your poem has taken on a life of its own. That’s wonderful! Feel free to leave the original poem behind as you explore your own poem’s life.

How to become a better poet

Write. Keep writing. Continue writing every day, all the time, forever and into infinity.

Even if no one ever reads half of your work, every new poem brings you one step closer to becoming a stronger poet. Practice makes perfect, right?

In addition to writing, seek to explore new forms, styles, and subject matter. Instead of just imitating the greats, try perusing published works in several of the hundreds of online poetry journals out there. You’ll get a lot out of the amazing and daring poetry you find there on the cutting edge. Besides, there are too many under-celebrated poets out there.

In the meantime, we are always growing. Life is a process of becoming. We are always becoming better poets.

Never stop writing!

Subtext, Part 2: What Does Subtext Do?

In Part 1 of our article series on subtext we began a thorough introduction to the subject. Here in Part 2 we are going to dive into greater depth on how subtext functions in storytelling. As for the specific types of subtext (and there are many), we will get to that in a future article.

So…

What does subtext actually do?

The short answer: Subtext enhances storytelling by tapping into the subconscious to make the story more memorable and more impactful. It applies to every genre and every medium.

The really short answer: Subtext helps tell a better story.

But how, exactly?

Storysci.com's illustration of how subtext creates depth in storytelling.
Subtext adds depth and dimension to your story.

Subtext Sets Tone, Atmosphere & Mood

At its most basic level, subtext communicates the overall feel of the story. This can be a subtle undertone, a collection of background mood elements, or the setting of the story itself.

For example’s sake, let’s take the following sentence, devoid of subtext:

Hawker walked through the street that night.

Now let’s add a bit of subtext in the form of mood:

Hawker pushed through the murky night, parting the dense fog like a shadow in a snow drift.

Quite a difference, isn’t there?

Take it a step further by throwing in a larger atmosphere element that recurs throughout the story. Maybe everyone Hawker passes on the streets walks briskly, arms tucked, closed off from communication, not stopping when they bump into him.

Without having to directly tell the audience anything, the added subtext communicates Hawker’s isolation and introspective defensiveness, putting him into a world where every individual must fend for oneself.

For a few real-world examples, check out:

TV: Twin Peaks
LIT: The Red Badge of Courage
FILM: Body Heat

Subtext Illustrates Story, Reduces Exposition

You’ve probably heard the mantra, “Show, don’t tell.” The idea here is to aim for illustrating story through the playing-out of conflict, desires, obstacles and goal-seeking rather than telling the audience what happens through direct exposition. Here’s where subtext comes in handy. Subtext is all about showing because it doesn’t allow you to explain things outright (“on-the-nose,” or literally as they are).

Subtext illustrates story by communicating between the lines. It’s as simple as that. Much of the time, this kind of subtext naturally arises during the storytelling process through the choices our characters make. The selflessness or selfishness of the decision in that situation expresses something about their character, and so long as the narrative doesn’t come right out and say “this is what that choice means for this character,” then the subtext happens all on its own.

This is where the superhero genre really excels: The protagonist is repeatedly put into situations where (s)he must choose between a selfish, gratifying act or a selfless, self-harming act. Subtext comes into play when the hero makes that key decision. We (the audience) know that if the hero makes a selfish choice that (s)he will be personally rewarded, but because of ignoble cowardice and/or weakness. Likewise, we implicitly know that the hero’s selfless act will come with great struggle and personal pain, and will win our admiration for doing the right thing. All of that from a choice—and we don’t even have to spell it out for the audience. They’ll get it. Audiences are smart.

Want to see this in action? Try:

TV: The Office
FILM: Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man 2
LIT: Of Mice and Men

Subtext Creates Emotional Impact

As we’ve mentioned previously, subtext communicates below the textual level, nesting itself in the pregnant quiet space beneath the surface message to create immediacy, greater meaning and emotion than would otherwise be possible. If you’ve ever seen a sitcom, then yes, you’ve seen this aspect of subtext in action.

Imagine a TV show conversation between Rock and Stone. Rock has been in love with Stone for 10 years. We’ve been following Rock and Stone’s comical near-love connection mishaps for 5 seasons now. They’ve never actually gotten together but both characters have repeatedly demonstrated their secret love and willingness to sacrifice all for each other since episode one. During the season 5 finale, Rock accidentally reveals those feelings for Stone in public while accepting an award. Embarrassed, Rock flees to hide beneath a tree. Having heard the flub, Stone finds Rock and confesses the same feelings. That fuzzy, tingly, heart-swelling moment that accompanies their first kiss? That’s right. From subtext.

But how?

The text of the moment isn’t all that interesting by itself: Stone finds Rock beneath the tree, confesses feelings and they kiss. How many times have we heard a story like that? What lends this particular situation the gravity and emotional impact is the fact that in that scene between Rock and Stone, we carry the subconscious build-up of all past 5 seasons of unrequited love. The power of everything that led to this huge payoff is the subtext. As the audience, we don’t have to be reminded of the past 5 seasons because we’ve already experienced it, so by not calling attention to that directly, we’ve avoided blocky exposition to let the subtext ride out the moment.

Additional great examples:

TV: Friends
LIT: Age of Innocence
FILM: Lord of the Rings trilogy

Subtext Adds Depth by Conveying a Greater Message

Here’s where subtext gets storytellers really excited. When your story is attempting to convey a theme, moral, or greater commentary, subtext is the most effective means to do so. Beginning storytellers tend to go straight to soapboxing—beating the idea over the audience’s head through direct exposition. This preachy/didactic approach rarely sticks with the audience for long, and can even turn them off from future connection with the story if it rubs them the wrong away. The more proper—and challenging—way to communicate higher messaging is through skillful implementation of subtext.

Returning to the idea of showing, not telling, the subtext of greater messaging emerges not in one particular moment or scene, but over the course of the longer story as the various arguments associated with that message are played out through the plot. In a high-level sense, we can call this subtextual messaging theme, but it also extends to motif, religious/political messaging, morals, commentary or criticism, warnings, thought experiments and what-if scenarios as well. The means by which subtext illustrates this greater messaging is by showing how that main idea (and its subsidiary ideas) play out through goal-seeking, obstacles and conflict, rather than coming out and telling the audience exactly what it’s doing. After all, would you rather have someone explain a painting to you or see it for yourself?

Satirical TV shows like Family Guy or South Park make use of subtext to lampoon political and religious ideas on a regular basis by putting characters into the situation they wish to comment on, and then using humor to express the desired opinion or viewpoint of the show as the situation plays out during the episode. George Orwell’s famous novels Animal Farm and 1984 both take a more serious approach, using literal situations to illustrate the dangers of communism—without ever directly saying “communism is bad.” In this way, the plot (“text”) tells a compelling story while the subplot simultaneously acts as an invisible force, forming the proverbial iceberg beneath the water and granting the plot its impact and staying-power.

Wan more real-world examples? Check out:

TV: Family Guy
LIT: 1984
FILM: Harold & Maude

Whew! That is a lot to digest—and there’s more to come! Stay tuned for Part 3: How to Use Subtext, where we will move away from theory and dig into the more practical applications of subtext in storytelling.

In the meantime, share your thoughts and favorite subtext-laden stories with us. We’d love to hear from you!

Still lost? Receive additional guidance from StorySci by contacting us or filling out the form below:

Subtext, Part 1: What is Subtext?

Subtext is one of the strongest, most powerful narrative tools a storyteller has in their arsenal.

That’s awesome! But what exactly is subtext?

The short answer: Information that is communicated without coming out and directly saying it.

The very short answer: What ISN’T said.

What does that mean?

Great question. Big, complicated answer.

To answer that question thoroughly, we will start by grazing the surface of subtext with Part 1 in our article series before proceeding to a deep dive into the subject. Part 2 will explore what subtext is, how it functions, and the many forms in which it can be used in significantly greater depth.

Back to the question at hand:

What is Subtext?

Subtext is many things, and nailing down a helpful description in a single phrase always falls short. The trickiness lies in the fact that subtext isn’t directly written, stated or spoken. It is the ever present invisible context inhabiting the shell we call text—that is, the underlying story beneath the outer story crust.

Like any informational source, story consists of two layers: Text and Subtext. In a conversation between two people, text represents the words each participant says to the other while subtext includes everything they aren’t saying. That doesn’t mean subtext includes everything they could possibly or potentially say in that situation, but rather the meaning behind the strategy and delivery of the text.

storylayers_sqx2.jpg
Where Subtext falls in the layers of storytelling.

 

If Person A asks Person B, “Did you drive today?” The text of Person A’s question is obvious—exactly what (s)he came out and said. However, the subtext—what Person A didn’t say—is far richer and meaningful: Do I have to give you a ride today? The tone of Person A’s voice, the emotional backing and the context in which the question was asked add subtext as well. So while the text may be a simple question, the subtext alters the meaning depending on whether it was asked with a groan or with the intent of helping out a friend in need.

What Does Subtext Do?

The short answer: Subtext creates meaning.

The not-as-short answer:

Subtext represents the emotional core of your story. Not restricted by genre, medium or storyteller, subtext is the hidden power that gives the text its emotional and thematic punch. Depth and nuance are almost entirely contained in this layer of story.

A story cannot succeed without effective subtext because the text itself cannot adequately communicate meaning in a way that feels fulfilling or satisfying. The audience will notice when subtext is missing—whether they are consciously aware of it or not—because the story will feel hollow, motivations poorly formed, and characters lacking in dimension.

If Subtext is so Important, Why Do I Need Surface Text?

The short answer: You need both. Always.

The not-as-short answer:

Surface text acts as a simple vehicle to put the subtext into a context that makes it tangible, specific, and easy to understand. By itself, subtext comes across as abstract and vague. Text without subtext feels superficial and forgettable. Therefore, every story needs both subtext and text because the story will feel incomplete with only one or the other.

To review:

  • Surface text tells us what happens, not what it means.
  • Subtext tells us what it means, not what happens.
  • Text + Subtext tells us what happens and what those events mean.

How Do I Create Subtext?

The short answer: By talking around the obvious.

The not-as-short answer:

Subtext arises through restraint from revealing the mystery and explaining all, creating implication of the greater struggle that lies beneath the surface—conflict, the heart and soul of story. Basically, by not using direct exposition (text). Don’t say what you mean; say all the things that approach the subject indirectly without giving away the whole story. Think about the exposition as an aerial view of the whole forest but the audience only gets to see the trees up close at ground level. Subtext provides clues to solving the mystery without directly saying, “The butler did it.” The audience will absorb the evidence and come to that conclusion themselves, but in a way that creates a more cathartic experience because they were actively involved in the emotional journey and not just a passive participant.

A few ways to approach subtext:

  • If a character wants something in a scene, don’t let them say so. Have them employ different tactics to approach the subject indirectly without identifying the want directly.
  • If a character feels an emotion, don’t let them say exactly who they feel. Have them express or explore other secondary emotions or outward effects without dialing in on the root cause.
  • If a setting or environment evokes a certain ambiance, don’t say so. Describe it in terms of sensations, feelings, emotions and similarities without pigeonholing it with over-simplified description like “creepy” or “romantic.”

What’s Next?

We’ve only just started talking about subtext here in Part 1 of our article series. Stay tuned for Part 2: What Does Subtext Do?

Feeling lost? Story Science is here to help! Contact us right away and we will help you find your way.

Create Subtext Through Implied History

writing_exercise

Today’s writing exercise focuses on a particular type of subtext.

A quick review –

Text operates on two levels: surface text and underlying subtext. While text represents the surface action, subtext consists of everything that’s really going on beneath that surface action—aka what’s not being said.

WHY

Identifying or explaining subtext is one thing, but actually embedding it into storytelling is quite another. In this exercise we will tackle the challenge of using subtext to create implied history in a character relationship.

PURPOSE

To help walk you through aging a character relationship by building successive levels of implied history through the use of subtext. With every successive layer of implied character history you add, note how the resulting subtext affects the way characters interact with each other.

CHALLENGE

Two characters walk into a kitchen to find dirty dishes in the sink.

Write a short conflict-laden scene between the two characters regarding the dirty dishes and using the following situational context:

  • The two characters are strangers who have just met for the very first time.

Now write a new version of the scene with the same two characters in the same situation, only with new added history:

  • Roommates who hit it off for the first week, but have come to their first disagreement.
  • Now roommates for six months and the dirty dishes are a regular point of conflict.
  • In a relationship and living together for two years and again the dirty dishes lead to a confrontation.
  • In a relationship and living together for forty years when another dish incident occurs.

Did you come up with something interesting? Let us know!

 

Need some help?

Having trouble with this exercise? Here’s a little help to get those creative juices flowing —

WRITING PROMPT: Create Subtext Through Implied History

Roommates who hit it off for the first week, but have come to their first disagreement.

Not wanting to come off as mean or judgmental, Judy eases her way into asking Maggie about the dishes by approaching the subject indirectly. Then, after expressing her grievance in a polite, mild form, she closes her statement with a casual “…if that’s cool with you.”

How does Maggie respond? Does she respond with the same tone and tactic? Is she irritated? Maybe she feels like she doesn’t have time for beating around the bush, so chooses to escalate the situation, setting a bad precedent for encounters to come?

Now roommates for six months and the dirty dishes are a regular point of conflict.

Sticking with Judy as our protagonist, she once again comes home to find a sink full of smelly, dirty dishes, even though (once again) it’s Maggie’s turn to clean them. Maybe Judy’s a bit of a neat freak while Maggie tends to let house hygiene slide somewhat more. While the dirty dish arguments remained somewhat polite for the first few months, they have since become increasingly forceful with raised voices, personal insults and wild gesticulations. Tempers flares. Doors slam. You get the picture.

But today is different. Her previous tactic having failed, what does she do or say differently to get her point across this time?

In a relationship and living together for two years and again the dirty dishes lead to a confrontation.

Somehow, somewhere, Judy and Maggie were able to look past their dish differences and form a long-term relationship of sorts (best friends, lovers, entrepreneurial partners—take your pick). It’s been a brutal 10-hour workday for Judy, so when she comes home to find that familiar odorous specter waiting for her in the kitchen, she’s finally had enough. Judy storms over to Maggie’s room, pounds on her door with all her might. Maggie finally emerges, ready for a fight. They scream, accuse, maybe even graduate to throwing dirty dishes at each other. Either way, the fight ends with Judy leaving for the local dive bar, vowing to move as soon as she’s saved up enough for a deposit on a new apartment.

In a relationship and living together for forty years when another dish incident occurs.

It’s been four decades since Judy and Maggie began their journey of communal living and over the years Judy has learned to pick her battles, knowing that for some things Maggie may never change. One of those things? Dirty dishes. Judy knows Maggie won’t clean the dirty dishes, even if it’s her turn. So when Judy comes home, sees the sink piled high with grimy porcelain, she already counts the confrontation as a loss. Instead of confronting Maggie about the neglect, she chooses to just suck it up and let the dishes rot. If worst comes to worst, Judy will do the dishes herself. Either way, Judy feels Maggie’s neglect of the dirty dishes is a fact she cannot change, and at this point, not worth the energy. So this time says nothing at all.

 

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10 Characteristics of Good Dialogue

So you want to write dialogue. A lot of people think they write “good” dialogue without understanding even the basics. That’s okay. Dialogue is one of those technical aspects of storytelling everyone can learn. Let’s take a look at valuable characteristics found in truly good dialogue.

dialoguebubbles

Good dialogue…

1. Reveals character and plot in every line.

This is rule #1. Write dialogue with purpose. If each line doesn’t move the plot forward or say something about the character saying it, throw it out!

2. Doesn’t rely on itself as a crutch.

Dialogue shouldn’t be a crutch used in place of quality storytelling. Explain the minimum, draw in the audience, and trust in their brains’ ability to fill in the rest. Max Max: Fury Road and Interstellar are two recent great examples.

3. Distinguishes each character.

Every character should be recognizable and distinguishable by their dialogue alone, using cadence, vocabulary, and communication style to make it clear who is speaking without having a character name attached. When this rule is followed, the reader’s brain will fill in the character names for them, especially when reading stage and screenplays.

4. Isn’t redundant.

Don’t repeat information we’ve already heard or can see for ourselves. Don’t tell us about the action; show it to us. Cut down redundant beats and never say the same thing twice unless the tactic, subtext or context has changed.

5. Is appropriate to tone, setting, and time period.

Comedy dialogue should be funny. Thriller dialogue should be terse. Emotional dialogue should be heartfelt and passionate. When writing in a certain time period or language, be sure to do thorough research to ensure the dialogue feels authentic.

6. Doesn’t try to be real conversation.

This is a common mistake. Dialogue is not actual conversation. Dialogue is purposefully written in a way which reveals character and story, using tactics appropriate to the character to overcome obstacles and achieve a particular goal. In contrast, real-life conversation is vague and messy, filled with “well” and “um,” conflicting internal monologues and complex, muddy intentions and psychology, leading to what we hear on the surface.

7. Avoids hedges and fences.

Well, um, you know? Opening and ending sentences with these little words bogs down pacing, takes up valuable space, and decreases the strength of each line while wearing on the receiver’s nerves. Why? They’re essentially filler. While people say these things all the time in real life, characters are not real people and dialogue is not real conversation.

8. Minimizes direct exposition.

This is a big one screenwriting. If characters stand around and explain the story through direct exposition (which is telling, not showing), then the audience gets cheated out of sharing the experience of those events with the characters, which is how we build a relationship with them and grow to like, love, or hate them. Rather than revealing backstory or though processes through dialogue, try showing the characters make these decisions and take action to illustrating the story. Although there are some exceptions in TV writing and lower budget films, it’s still a standard guideline follow wherever possible.

9. Avoids tired clichés.

Avoid clichés like the plague. Rather, don’t use them at all, unless making a joke (see previous sentence). They stick out like a sore thumb (sorry), highlight lazy storytelling, and, more than anything, each instance bumps the audience out of immersion in the story’s world.

10. Doesn’t reveal major story points without evidence or setup.

Building on previous points, avoid advancing the plot through direct exposition via dialogue, especially when there has been no previous evidence or setup to clue the audience into the characters’ though processes or clue-seeking. It cheats the audience out of shared experience with the characters, delivers exposition clumsily, and leaves the audience out of the loop. Never leave the audience out of the loop. The story is for them, after all.

 

Want help on your dialogue? Let us know. Storysci is here to help!

Top 10 Storytelling Basics

shorthand list of top 10 storytelling basics everyone needs to know from StorySci.com by James Gilmore

No matter if you are a writer, filmmaker, gamemaster, or stand-up comedian, here are the top 10 most important basic points of storytelling you need to bring your story to life.

1. Include a beginning, middle and end.

This occurs at every level. Just as a trilogy has three parts, so does an individual story have a beginning, middle and end. The same goes each and every scene within that story. How can you tell the difference between a beginning, middle and end? A beginning sets up the story. It’s a blueprint or road map to the rest of the plot. In a good story it won’t be obvious. The middle develops the story from the point of setup to the climax. It plays out the “promise of the premise” and shows how the new status quo introduced at the end of act one affects the world of the story. This takes us to the end. An ending centers around the obligatory confrontation between protagonist and antagonist. It concludes by answering all the questions raised in the story, even if the answers are new questions (aka, cliffhangers).

2. Show, don’t tell.

Instead of telling the audience that something is happening, show them by devoting screen time (or page time) to the illustration of these events. Telling (aka “summary”) is not very interesting in comparison to the audience experiencing the same thing. You don’t need to state what is going on directly. The audience will figure it out for themselves, and in so doing will create a stronger bond with the story than if you simply told the audience that it happened.

3. One word: Conflict.

Conflict is the natural result of one character’s desire intersecting an obstacle. Conflict increases proportionally to the amount that each side pushes back. It drives the story forward and keeps the audience interested. Without it, nothing in the plot would be worth mentioning because story without conflict is not story, it’s summary.

4. Make your protagonist proactive, not reactive.

The more proactive your protagonist is, the more invested in him/her your audience will be. They will want what (s)he wants. A protagonist is proactive when (s)he is the one to take charge and initiate events that advance the plot. The opposite of this is a reactive protagonist who responds to events forced on him/her by the plot. A reactive protagonist will not only make the audience feel like something is missing in your story, but they will fail to build a personal connection with the protagonist as well.

5. Have a central core to your story.

Your story ultimately needs to be about something, and that something is the central through-line (also called the “spine”) around which everything in your story is based, especially the theme. The central core brings unity and order to all the elements of your story. For example, the film Love, Actually has a central spine about love, from which it thematically branches off into different types of love. Or the novel Catch-22 whose central core explores the concept of the same name in various circumstances.

6. Know what your story is about.

It doesn’t matter if your story is based around a character, plot or theme. At some point you will need to know what your story is about—not just at its core, but at every level—in order to weave a story around it. For example, on the surface your story may be about a father-son road trip and the hilarity that ensues, but underneath that veneer it’s actually about father-son relationships and an estranged parent bonding with his troublesome child while also exploring other related thematic material, such as what it means to be male in today’s society.

7. It is better to be simple and clear than complicated and ambiguous.

Simplicity creates clear understanding in the minds of the audience. They won’t view it as overly simplistic if it smoothly and adequately conveys your story. A common mistake storytellers use is to try and tell too much without spending enough “screen time” on each segment. Set aside the big picture to work on the simple steps needed to get there. Want to see this point in action? Pick up a copy of J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.

8. Say as much as possible with as little as possible.

Convey maximum information using minimal text (story) to do it. Implicit over explicit. This requires the use of subtext: whereas text is what is said, subtext is what is not said. Without subtext, your story will be dull and shallow. Some subtext occurs naturally but very often you have to work at it. For examples, a brother and sister talking about their lives at college but not talking about the recent death of their father colors the scene very differently than if they were just catching up like old friends. It also tells us their emotional state—that they aren’t ready to confront the truth about their father’s death.

9. Get in late, get out early.

Start as late as possible in your scene or story to provide both audience interest and optimal conflict, and then end the scene as soon the conflict has run its course. This doesn’t mean truncating valuable exposition or foregoing a beginning, but it does mean opening where the vital information starts. And once the scene or story has said all there is that needs to be said, get out! Don’t hang around and dawdle or you will be diluting your story’s final punch. For example, the audience doesn’t need to witness an entire 4-hour board meeting. They only need to see the handful of minutes that that count. In short: focus on where the action is happening.

10. Characters, characters, characters.

Even if you have a plot-driven story, your characters are what make a story really shine. A bland or passive protagonist makes for a boring story. Interesting and unique characters are memorable, if not timeless, even when relegated to smaller roles. Go the extra mile to give each character distinction, depth, and history. Consider writing character bios for each member of your cast and see if it gives you further insight into how to portray them.

 

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Short Form Storytelling, Part 1: One Story, One Idea

Let’s start with the obvious: What is short form storytelling?

Short form is a story condensed into a brief, compressed format.

Storytellers tend to receive the majority of their training in long form techniques so this article is devoted to preparing you for short form storytelling, specifically the short story and short film.

What is considered short form?

Short form includes such familiar formats as television (30 minute sitcoms, one-hour dramas, etc.), short stories, short films and poetry, whereas long form includes the feature-length film, novel, and epic poem. Of course there are also forms which fit somewhere in the middle, like the long story, novelette, and 70-minute film.

Although the numbers vary depending on who you ask, here are some quick and dirty guidelines to give you an idea of lengths for short and long forms:

SHORT FORM LONG FORM
Film: under 70 minutes 70+ minutes
Prose: 7,500 pages or less 7,500 pages or more
Poem: up to 2 pages 2 pages or more

Typically a short film is under 30 minutes long but they can run up to 70 minutes. For more information on word counts in prose, refer to Prose Length and Word Count.

Shorter is simpler, but harder

Short form is deceptively difficult. It’s tempting to believe that shorter means easier, and while it does make the story simpler, it actually makes the piece more difficult to perfect. Most writers are accustomed to long form storytelling because that is the easiest way to fully express their ideas. In short form you do not have the luxury to explore every nook and cranny of your idea, so you can only include that which is absolutely relevant and necessary for your story.

In fact, short form is so challenging that many famous literary authors of the 20th century believed that the short story was not only the hardest type of story to write, but also the finest mark of a writer’s ability. Many an author has spent his/her career attempting to perfect the short story. (Short film and poetry have similar stories.)

Short Form is About One Idea

The key to short form is to concentrate on one clearly defined idea and bring it to fruition. The nature of short form does not allow you to cram more than one main idea into a short story without diluting its impact and creating an ambiguous mess. You also do not have the luxury of spending long periods developing characters or fleshing out your B- and C-plots. The longer your story becomes the greater its complexity will be, making it more difficult a story to tell. So keep your story compressed and strong by staying simple and always focused on your main idea.

Only that which is necessary and relevant

Short form is a compressed storytelling format where every ingredient has to carry its own weight. Prose, visuals, events and characters must count absolutely and definitively with no room for extraneous details or events. We call this necessary action. Necessary action means that only material directly relevant to the story should be included. Each element should be lean and efficient. Where possible, make each element count for multiple uses in regards to character, plot and theme.

Why Short Form is Worth the Effort

Although the market for short form storytelling is very select, it can be one of the best ways to improve your craft and learn invaluable skills such as compression (the subject of Part 2 of this article).

A few things you will learn while using short form:

  • How to tell stories efficiently.
  • How to say more with less (by means of compression).
  • How the story creation process works from beginning to end because it takes less time to complete short formats than long ones.

In the end, you may discover a new found joy in working with short form. Not only is short form liberating in its brevity, it requires a smaller commitment than long form and will ultimately lead to a greater understanding of your craft.

Stay tuned for Part 2: Compression, Compression, Compression.

 

Want to perfect your short film, script, play or story? Contact StorySci to get professional help right away.

Powerful Rewriting Tools #1: The Laundry List

Rewriting is difficult. It’s daunting. It can be overwhelming.  And every writer has been there.

Rewriting (also called “editing”) is a different skill from writing with its own set of techniques. While the initial writing process utilizes many of your instinctual and emotional creative energies, the rewriting process taps into a separate part of your brain, making use of your logical and analytical acumen. No matter which way you approach rewriting, it is still mentally taxing and a lot of hard work.

rewriting tools the laundry list to rewrite creative fiction story scienceTo help you through this brain intensive process we are going to bring you a series of powerful rewriting tools, the first of which is called the Laundry List. The Laundry List is a “to-do” list of items that need work in your current draft, allowing you to organize and address each issue with surgical precision and without becoming lost or sidetracked.

Here’s the short version:

  1. Read the piece all the way through.
  2. Reread the piece again, this time making notes in the form of a to-do list.
  3. Rewrite your piece based on only one item at a time.
  4. Address all items on list.

Now let’s break it down:

Step back, let it sit.
You’ve just finished the colossal task of completing a draft and you are feeling on top of the world. Your head is still awhirl with the details as you enjoy a self-congratulatory pat on the back. Don’t jump into rewriting yet. Leave it alone for a few weeks, possibly a few months (3-6 months at most).

Reread it from beginning to end.
Now you can return to your draft with a fresh set of eyes. Dust off the old manuscript and reread the entire piece from beginning to end without stopping to rewrite. Allow yourself to make a few notes along the way but don’t start the actual rewriting process until you have finished your read-through. This will re-familiarize you with the material as work your way through the next step.

Make a to-do list.
Read the piece again, this time making a to-do list of every item, big or small, that needs addressed. Be sure to designate which issues are major and which of those are minor. How you organize your list is up to you, but here are a few suggestions:

  • OUTLINE: Traditional outline with smaller issues nested beneath larger parent items.
  • COLUMNS: Place issues under major headings such as character, structure, protagonist desire, etc.
  • CHRONOLOGICAL: List items in the order that they occur in your story, using some kind of notation to indicate if major or minor.

Rewrite with purpose.
Each item of your laundry list gives you a clear, reasonable goal to work toward and will keep you from becoming overwhelmed. As you tackle each issue only work on one item at a time, no matter how tempting it is to do more. It’s very easy get sidetracked and lost if you don’t stick to your goal.

Start with the big things, end with the small things.
Address major issues first. The bigger, the better. You can go smaller from there. By fixing the major issues you will probably eliminate some of the smaller points on your laundry list and save the unnecessary stress and hair loss of having to cut minor rewrites that have become irrelevant during subsequent revisions of major points. Things like dialogue polishes and punctuation, vocabulary, etc. should be saved for last.

And voila! You have just completed a thorough rewriting of your piece. It takes some work, but by diligently chipping away at your lump of raw material bit by bit until you have your very own Statue of David left in its place. So the next time you are thinking about jumping into the editorial pool start by making yourself a Laundry List and soon you will be on the road to rewriting your next masterpiece.

Until next time, bon courage and keep writing!

Pink Slip: How to Handle Rejection

“The difference between the amateur writer and the professional writer is that the professional didn’t quit.”–Richard Bach’s Jonathan Livingstone Seagull, rejected 26 times before becoming one of the most inspirational books of all time

Every creative type must handle their worst, most intimate fear when they share their work with others: rejection. It doesn’t matter if you are a writer, filmmaker, musician, actor, painter, or live performance artist, someday you will face rejection by someone, somewhere, and that person may be a friend, colleague, critic, agent or even the viewing public. Some of the rejections will be polite, if not gracious, while others will be cruel and soul-shattering.

THE HARD FACTS ABOUT REJECTION

Story Science stock image of a frustrated creative man smashing his laptop on the ground due to rejectionEveryone gets rejected. And more often than not, everyone gets rejected multiple times. It doesn’t matter what form the rejection is in, everyone will get rejected and how you handle that rejection is the true test of your character. Oprah Winfrey was fired from her job as a TV anchor and deemed “unfit for television” before going on to become one of the most prolific personalities in television history.

Rejection is a matter of taste. One rejection doesn’t mean anything. 50 rejections doesn’t mean anything, for that matter. One of the reason rejection rates are so high is because you have to catch the right organization with the right piece that is the right fit for the right person’s taste at the right time on the right day. Just because one person rejects your work doesn’t mean that another one will. Sometimes the very same person who rejected your work initially will accept it later on down the road. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to revise or polish your work between pink slips, but it does mean that you shouldn’t feel disheartened over a handful of rejection letters

Rejection will make you a better at your craft. Just because someone rejects your work doesn’t he mean (s)he was right, but it doesn’t necessarily mean (s)he was wrong, either. Listen to what critics say about your work. You don’t have to take every piece of advice thrown your way but use their feedback to polish and improve your work instead of letting nasty comments degrade your self-confidence.

It isn’t personal. Rejection can be difficult to handle because in rejecting your blood-sweat-and-tears creative endeavor, you probably feel that YOU are being rejected as a person. After all, your creative work is a part of you. Even if you know on an intellectual level that the rejection isn’t personal, in many ways it’s as personal as it gets, but the person rejecting you probably doesn’t see it that way. To them it’s just business.

You will get used to it. Rejection hurts the most at the beginning. The more rejection letters you get the less they will affect you. After fifty or a hundred rejections or so a pink slip won’t mean much at all. You are building up a tolerance and becoming a professional.

Rejection is a professional matter. Rejection is part of what makes an individual a professional in his or her field. Rejection weeds out those who are unable to compete at the professional level or maintain persistence in their field when setbacks (like pink slips) arise. When you are starting out in your career consider submitting your work to smaller, newer places with smaller pools of work (and talent) to draw from. If you start by submitting to the top places, it will take much longer to receive an acceptance, if ever. The longer you work in your field the better you will become at identifying places that have the right fit for your kind of pieces, eliminating your number of rejections. In the film industry, less than 1% of screenplays are ever sold or produced, meaning movie scripts are ultimately rejected over 99% of the time.

HOW TO USE REJECTION TO YOUR ADVANTAGE

Adopt, adapt, improve. Refine your proposal/query letter between rejections. A poorly crafted or unenthusiastic pitch will scuttle your piece no matter how good it is. Consider hiring a specialist or an editor to help you write a killer intro to your work.

Be patient. Set aside your story for awhile and work on something else so you can return to it with fresh eyes further down the road. Imagine if Herman Melville got fed up with publishers and threw his manuscript into the waste bin—no one would have ever heard of Moby Dick.

Don’t get discouraged. Use rejection as fuel to motivate you to try again and try harder. Joseph Heller named his book Catch-22 because it took 22 attempts to get his book published.

Be persistent. Persist long enough and you will succeed. What do George Orwell, Louisa May Alcott and Richard Adams have in common? They believed in themselves and never gave up on their craft. As a result, millions of people can enjoy classics like Animal Farm, Little Women, and Watership Down, respectively.

REJECTION STATISTICS FROM THE PUBLISHING WORLD

Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling: rejected 12 times, sold 400+ million copies, led to four consecutive records for fastest-selling books in history, and made Rowling one of the most famous authors in the world and one of the richest people on the planet.

Carrie by Stephen King: rejected 38 times and was even tossed in the garbage by the author at one point, sold 100+ million copies in its first year alone and made Stephen King a household name.

The Help by Kathryn Stockett: despite 60 rejections, once published Stockett’s book spent over 100 weeks on the New York Times bestseller list.

Agatha Christie: started out with 500 rejections in 4 years, now only outsold by William Shakespeare with $2+ billion in book sales and one of the most famous mystery writers of all time.

Chicken Soup for the Soul by Jack Canfield & Mark Victor Hansen: 140 rejections, sold over 80 million copies and now nothing short of ubiquitous, spawning numerous spin-offs.

Dune by Frank Herbert: rejected 23 times, now the best-selling sci-fi novel of all time, spawning dozens of sequels, four movies, and several video games.

The Thomas Berryman Number by James Patterson: after 31 consecutive rejections, the book went on to win the Edgar award for Best Novel while the author followed up by scoring 19 consecutive #1 hits on the New York Times bestseller list with sales in excess of $220 million.

For more statistics on rejected manuscripts see:

Daily Writing Tips: “Famous Books Rejected Multiple Times”

Green Leaf Books: “How Many Rejection Letters is Too Many?”

James Hughes: “Literary Rejections”

Smink Works Books: “Surviving Rejection”

The Turntable Group Writing Exercise

Gather ‘round writers and wordsmiths, it’s time for the Turntable Group Writing Exercise, from Story Science. This is a great exercise for writing groups, classrooms, teams, comedians and friends. Think of it as improvisational writing in a collaborative environment, a group brainstorming session.

Story Science atom logo for the Turntable Writing Exercise blog article.Why: Because two (or more) minds are better than one. Writing is a very solitary activity, requiring the storyteller to isolate himself for many hours at a time in order to tap into the creative energies fluttering about inside his or her brain. Today we are going to be social and write together.

Purpose: To engage in a group improvisational freewrite. Also, it’s fun.

Challenge: Your group is going to write a collaborative story, scene or sketch. Come to an agreement on the exercise terms before you begin, such as length, format, and if any house rules apply. On a piece of paper or using collaborative document software*, every person in the group will take turns writing a sentence, line, or short beat before passing it on to the next person. This repeats until the agreed upon length is reached or someone writes “THE END.” Don’t be surprised if the final result looks like something out of a comedy sketch show or an episode of a daytime soap opera (that’s part of the fun).

RULES:

  • Start with an opening and end with a conclusion.
  • Use a stack of paper or some form of collaborative document software so everyone can read the results.
  • Come to a group consensus on terms before starting, including length, format, and any house rules.
  • Screenplay or stageplay formats work very well for this exercise but prose, rhyme or poetry have their place too if your group is up to the challenge.
  • The action must occur within the same scene/location.
  • Do not hog the table. You are allowed to write more than one sentence, but limit the length to one beat or less. Pass onto the next person.
  • The exercise is over when it has been concluded and someone has written THE END.
  • At the end, assign segments to members in the group and read the entire piece aloud.

VARIATIONS:

  • Anyone can “cut” to a new location or scene.
  • Place a time limit on each person’s turn. When the time is up, control must be passed onto the next person, even if the current writer is mid-word.
  • Every other line must rhyme.
  • Make it a musical: insert song numbers/lyrics like a musical libretto.
  • Make it a piece of prose short fiction with a clear beginning, middle, and end.
  • Add a tag or postscript after THE END.


*See examples here.