Writing up the festival talks has helped me to understand the information and ideas.
I now want to do the same for other information gleamed from others.
Over the next few blogs I am re-looking at an online course run by IOWA university.
It is free and very good.
It is time consuming, last year I did it alongside Nano ! Not sure how.
One of the weeks dealt with Plot. Are you a Plotter or Pantser?
Plotter
Boris Fishman says - 'Don't be a plot snob.' It is a vital ingredient for your story.
Some writers spend months plotting their story before writing the first draft. They may create the main plot and leave subplots to emerge, or make a framework for everything.
Brandon Sanderson plots backwards and writes forward. He begins with the awesome ending of his story and then works out how to get there.
Pantser
'It's like driving a car at night, you can see as far as the lights allow.'
Steven Lumley believes in trusting the writing. The writer learns about the characters while writing freely and the plot thickens. It is only after the first draft that you understand the plot.
This is me - the first draft story generally comes from a character, My plots often end up too complicated. I am now refining. So not a plot snob after all, just an after the draft plotter!
It doesn't matter which way you create your plot as long as -
It drives the story onwards, encouraging the reader to turn the pages.
Plot is a combination of tension, conflict and resolution.
It is not always dramatic- it can be a human drama - a character development plot.
It is not the who did it, but the why?
The plot gives the reader a question, drops clues, and ultimately answers.
Plots are full of twists, a discovery is made but it creates more questions not less etc.
Johnathon Lethan says a plot is juxtaposition and causality. An interesting plot takes two un-related ideas and puts them together with a because.
The plot helps the reader to understand the character's motivation.
Each week we had a word limited writing assignment, this was commented on by other writers.
An external force demands all the characters react, but there needs to be a separate unrelated force which the main character is dealing with.
Here is mine -
It took Mary a few seconds to realise that she wasn’t
holding hands with Fabian on the bus. It was not a police siren forcing its way
through the traffic, but a persistent fire alarm.
‘Nobody
panic,’ said Steven. ‘It’s probably a false alarm, but we will have to leave
the room, go down the corridor and out the main exit.’ He said all this is a
loud clear voice and immediately began to help the artists to stand.
Mary’s body protested at her
sudden movement, but there was no time to stretch and restore circulation
gently. Her hastened on her numb legs to George who continued to draw,
oblivious to the noise and chaos erupting around him.
‘George,’ she touched his arm
gently, but he flinched.
‘Mary,’ he shouted, ‘am I getting
an up close view tonight?’ His eyes twinkled beneath raised bushy white
eyebrows and his face crinkled as he smiled.
‘No George,’ she replied and
slapped his hand away.’ There is a fire in the building. We have to leave.’
‘Fire? Where?’
‘Somewhere in the building. We
have to go George. Now.’
‘But I need my coat, and blanket,
and my stick.’
The volume of his voice made Mary
wince, but she calmly said, ‘George, I will help you. We can walk out
together.’
‘You will walk out with me?
Looking like that?’ His eyes flicked up and down her body.
‘Yes, you dirty old man, like
this. You won’t get another chance.’ She bent her knees and slipped her arm
under his and helped him stand. Most of the other artists were near or through
the door. She could see Steven arguing with Margaret who wanted to take all her
art materials with her, and go to the room where they left all their
belongings.
‘It’s the best I have ever done,
I can’t leave it here,’ Margaret had tears rolling down her cheeks.
‘Give it to me,‘ said Steven. He
placed the art pad on the nearest table and carefully removed the top page,
rolled it up and handed it to Margaret.
‘Follow the others to the main door.’ He said firmly, she nodded and
left. Steven continued his head count, saw that George was ok and hurried out
to ensure that they had all remembered the way out.
Mary heard him shout Margaret’s
name with a hint of frustration as she replied that she needed her bag for her
bus pass, how would she get home without it. That was when she remembered the
ring, it was still in her purse as she hadn’t given Andrew an answer yet. It
was a hard decision, she did love him, but …
‘Vi, you’re in the bloody way
woman. Move.’ George shouted and jerked Mary back to the room.
‘Violet, are you alright? Do you
have a pain in your chest?’ Mary felt her heartbeat increase. She had come to
love all the wonderful rich characters who attended this life drawing class,
and couldn’t bear the thought of one of them having a heart attack because of
the alarm.
‘No my love,’ Violet replied
while continuing to fiddle and rub the front of her cardigan.
‘Vi, move ut of the way. If you
want to burn that’s fine. But I am walking out with Mary. And Mary is…’
‘I know who Mary is, George, and
there is no need to shout. I’m not the deaf one.’’ Violet shook her head.
‘No, you are the daft one.’
‘Violet, what are you doing?’
Mary asked as she firmly removed George’s hand from her hip.
‘I am trying to take off my
cardigan.’
‘You are daft,’ said George. ‘It
is freezing outside, you need to keep it on.’
‘It’s for Mary, you selfish
bugger.’
George looked at Violet and then
at Mary, ‘You said bugger!’ He shook with mirth, and Mary smiled. Trust George
to focus on that aspect of Violet’s speech.
‘Violet, don’t worry about me. I
will be fine. We do need to get out as quickly as possible. Take George’s other
arm and we will go together.’
‘I’ll keep her warm,’ said
George. Violet’s lips pursed together.
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