Does Your Story Write Itself?

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Writing stories, someone once said, is like raising a child. You, the author-parent, set out with dreams of where you want to story to go, what you want it to accomplish, who it's going to meet, and how it’s going to “turn out.”

But stories, like children, have minds of their own.

They take detours. They explore dangerous places. They bring home uninvited guests.

What’s a good author-parent to do?

I’m currently trying to figure this one out. Three-quarters of the way through the second revision of my novel-in-progess, The Power Club™, a new character has entered the story.This character was in earlier drafts, but he just didn’t fit into this one, so he was omitted.

But, suddenly, there he is again.

By bringing back this uninvited guest, my story is starting to assert its independence.

Sometimes, this can be a good thing; other times, not. Writers should always be in control of their stories. A grad school professor once told me that when a story “writes itself,” it's a sign the author hasn't thought it through carefully. 

And yet sometimes those unexpected detours and uninvited guests can be the best thing about the story.

Back when I was working on my comic book, Gold Dust, I introduced a minor character who appears for one panel. A short time later, when I had the opportunity to write a story for an anthology that was never published, I decided to use my minor character. At this point, I still had no idea who she was or her motivation.

But as I was writing the story, she told me who she was—and her background and setting worked well with the end-of-the-world story I was telling.

(And, yes, I am being purposefully vague.  There’s always the hope of publishing that story some day.)

Characters, of course, don’t actually talk to writers—though it doesn’t hurt to believe they can. Writing usually involves your subconscious working itself out through your characters.

The lesson I took from this was to let my stories live and breathe.  Let them explore their world, but hang back and make sure they don’t stray too far. 

Naturally, this entails judgment and guesswork. How do you know when a story is straying too far from its original purpose? You don’t—though repeated practice can develop your sense of what might work and what definitely will not.

I’m not sure if I’m going to keep the “uninvited guest," but I’ll let him stick around for awhile and see what develops.

What about you?  What do you do when your story writes itself?

If you like this article, you may also like:

• "How to Stop Procrastinating: Trust the Writing Process"
• "Arguing with Sharks: Overcoming Your Writing Fears"
• "Letting the Fiction Take Over: How to Turn Your Reality into Fiction"

What Star Trek Can Teach You (Not to Do) About Keeping Your Characters Consistent

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Spoiler warning: The following post discusses plot elements of the films Star Trek III, V, and VI.  Read at your own risk.

Last week, I discussed Mark Twain’s advice that characters in a story should behave like real people.  I thought I’d said everything I had to say on the topic and was ready to move on.

Then I watched a marathon of Star Trek movies on the Syfy Channel.

I’m a Star Trek fan from way back.  Like most fans, I was thrilled when the original cast reunited for six feature films from 1979 to 1991.  And, like a lot of fans, I was willing to overlook certain flaws in the writing of these films.

But time has made me wiser, or at least pickier.  Although these movies are still enjoyable and feature all of the elements that made Star Trek the enduring franchise it still is, I couldn’t help but notice the inconsistency in the portrayal of ST’s iconic hero, Captain James T. Kirk, in the fifth and sixth films.

For some reason, Syfy aired the films out of sequence.  I came in during the middle of Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (released in 1986 and perhaps best known to non-fans as the movie with the whales).  Then came Star Trek IV: The Undiscovered Country (1991; the last film to feature the original crew of the USS Enterprise) and, finally, Star Trek V: The Final Frontier (1989; known derisively by some fans as Star Trek V: In Search of God).   I can only guess that someone in programming was not paying close attention and took the title of the fifth film literally, assuming it to be the last movie with the original cast.

In any case, showing the films out of order made the inconsistencies in Kirk’s character stand out like a Democrat at a Tea Party rally.

The Only Good Klingon . . . 

Some background information:  In the third film, Star Trek III: The Search for Spock (1984), Kirk’s grown son, Dr. David Marcus, is murdered by a Klingon—a member of the warlike race that served as the original TV series’ primary antagonists.  In Star Trek VI, however, a Klingon moon has just exploded, threatening the Klingons with extinction unless they sue for peace.  Kirk and the Enterprise are assigned to escort the Klingon chancellor and his delegation to a peace conference.

This poses a significant problem for Kirk, who is so angry over the death of his son that he blames all Klingons, calling them animals and shouting to his first officer and best friend, Spock (who supports helping the Klingons), “Let them die!”

Kirk’s animosity, though deplorable, is understandable and very human.  It also gives him a starting point to grow from as a character.  This is all well and good—except that such attitudes are totally absent from the previous film.

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

I'll grant that Kirk has minimal interaction with Klingons during ST V (and none at all in ST IV; hence its exclusion from this discussion) ; however, Klingons are present in the fifth film, and the only time he expresses any sort of emotional reaction toward them is when he thinks he’s about to be blasted by their battle cruiser.

Furthermore, once hostilities have ceased, Kirk and crew welcome the Klingons aboard the Enterprise for a celebration.  There is no mention of David Marcus’s death or Kirk’s embittered feelings.   However, when Kirk invites the Klingon delegation aboard the Enterprise for dinner in the sixth film, he does so with reluctance and palpable hostility.

(His inconsistent attitudes, by the way, are mirrored by some members of his crew.  Watch how Chekov and Sulu follow a female Klingon warrior around in ST V.  Then listen to Chekov utter the infamous, bigotted line, "Guess who's coming to dinner" in ST VI).   

All in all, the fifth film ends with the crew of the Enterprise exhibiting a cordial if wary attitude toward Klingons.  This cordiality all but vanishes in the sixth film.

Why Inconsistent?  Because the Plot Demands It. 

So, how was Kirk able to put his feelings aside in Star Trek V but not in Star Trek VI?

The answer, of course, is that movies are self-contained universes even when they are part of a series.  The filmmakers of ST V chose to focus on the story at hand and not bring in extraneous bits of continuity from past Star Trek films. 

Most of us, however, don't have the luxury of feature films with a built-in audience that may "forgive" us for such transgressions.  Inconsistent characters can throw readers right out of the story.

What do you think?  Do your characters behave consistently?

Mark Twain Rule No. 3: Make Your Characters Act Like Real People

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More words of writing wisdom from Mark Twain:

. . . the personages of the tale shall be alive, except in the case of corpses, and . . . the reader shall be able to tell the corpses from the others.

This is Twain’s way of saying that your characters should behave and talk like real people.

Sounds simple, but it isn’t.  As writers, we sometimes have bizarre ideas of how human beings behave or talk.  In an attempt to impress readers with our wit, style, or intelligence, we may end up with characters who do things no real person would do or say things no real person would say.  Instead of impressing readers, we leave them with the impression that we’ve never seen or talked to another human being!

 My Cousin, My Unbelievable Lawyer

One of my favorite examples of characters behaving in unbelievable ways is the film My Cousin Vinny, starring Joe Pesci.  The movie goes to great lengths to establish Vinny (Pesci) as the proverbial fish out of water.  A lawyer from New York who has only recently passed the bar (after six attempts!), Vinny tries to defend his cousin against a murder charge in the Deep South. 

While the film is entertaining at times, the first half drags along with scenes that establish Vinny as an inept boob.  He gets his car stuck in mud and ruins his only suit, he’s held in contempt of court for careless infractions, and he doesn’t know basic court procedures.  We get it that Vinny’s not the best choice to defend a client from a parking ticket, let alone murder.  But credibility is stretched past the breaking point.

In fact, the only way Vinny emerges as a credible lawyer is to be pitted against a southern judge, prosecutor, and witnesses who are equally inept.

The characters in My Cousin Vinny are drawn as broadly as possible for maximum comic effect. While this was a deliberate choice on the part of the filmmakers, it prevents me from getting fully lost in the story because the characters are too unbelievable.

You Can't Handle the Truth (But You Can Handle Characters)

For comparison, check out A Few Good Men, starring Tom Cruise.  This film is also about an inexperienced trial lawyer who takes on a murder case, but the characters behave like real people. 

Cruise’s Lt. Kaffee is cocky and self-involved and does not believe he can get his clients off, regardless of whether they are guilty or not.  However, he demonstrates a wily competence and even brilliance in cross-examining witnesses and outwitting the prosecution.  This combination of good and bad traits, of brilliance and self-involvement give Kaffee a degree of credibility as a character.

That credibility pays off huge story-telling dividends in the end when Kaffee goes up against the imposing Col. Jessep (Jack Nicholson).  We understand what's at stake for Kaffee and his clients if he does not win.  More important, the outcome is believable because Kaffee is believable.

It may be unfair to compare a comedy to a drama, but Twain’s advice holds true either way.  A Few Good Men shines because the characters behave like human beings.  My Cousin Vinny is only passably entertaining because its broadly drawn caricatures serve the needs of the plot.

What do you think?  What’s your favorite example of characters acting or not acting like real human beings?