Deep Inner Workings of a Story

Hi Type M's, it's Shelley here. 

I'm back in Guam and ready to get back to work writing after a kind of whirlwind of travel and so much reading. You'd think my TBR pile would be low, but no. And now I'm back here staring at my shelves and the books I left behind back in August, and they are staring back at me with accusing faces. 

Contemporary Fiction Ahead

While I continue to put the finishing touches on my Strawberry Moon Mystery files so I can upload them to KDP, I'm reworking the outline for a contemporary fiction novel that isn't in any way a mystery or thriller. This is one was written around 2019, which is hard to believe. I wrote it, as I did my Olivia Lively mystery, on Wattpad, serializing it chapter by chapter on a weekly time schedule. I did have an outline after awhile, but as usual I started out by winging it and only getting around to an outline when it was necessary to move forward. 

(Actually, it's hard to remember exactly the year or my process. That pesky pandemic happened around then and darn if it isn't something of a hard-drive glitch up in my noggin. I can see from Wattpad that I did something with the chapter files in 2021, and I have chapter files of the book from 2019 in my computer drive.)

Anyway, what I hadn't yet worked on back then was the nitty-gritty internal story structure, the inner scaffolding of a novel that wasn't a particular "genre" like mystery or romance or horror. (I've called in Women's Fiction in the past, but that genre title is sort of verboten now.) For the past several years I've taken Rosalie "out of the box" and messed around with it. I've probably made five outlines. I've written and deleted several opening scenes, trying to find the true beginning of the story. 

This year, I'm determined to get the whole thing rewritten and sent out on submission to agents. I've never tried to get an agent up until now. It seems like the absolute WORST time to do so as we can see the old trad model crumbling, but maybe that's a good reason to try it before it's gone. 

So, with that in mind, I'm delving into deep internal genre story structure, trying to determine what kind of story this really is, at heart. It's a story about making a big mistake and paying a huge price for that mistake. It's about losing your reputation and striving to regain a sense of normalcy and self-respect and fighting against societal norms that seek to bring you down. It's about remaking your life in a new community. Beneath all that runs a thread of personal growth, right? And here is where I'm having trouble.

Internal Subgenres 

Is this a coming-of-age story? Is it morality story? Is it a story about status? 

"Yes! Yes, it's all three!" I shout.

"Yeah, but you have to pick one," my internal editor replies.  

"Okay, fine." I pout and take a harder look. I'm using Shawn Coyne's Story Grid system to analyze my narrative structure. [See The Story Grid: What Good Editors Know by Shawn Coyne]

There are elements of each internal subgenre there in my book, but I need to choose one to make sure the structure is super solid. Right now I'm wavering between coming-of-age and status, so I'm going to have to examine the usual beats for those kinds of stories and decide which fit best with my current outline. This may require some more work on the outline, but in the end I'm convinced I'll have a more satisfying story for the reader. 

I'm sorry this post hasn't been so much about mystery, but keep in mind that a mystery "external" genre story probably also has an "internal" character-focused story line, too. Does your protagonist have a moral failing that he/she must overcome? Is your cozy sleuth in need of some maturation in a certain area? Does your law enforcement MC desire a move up to a higher rank or is he/she in danger of being demoted? 

Are you a reader of mysteries or thrillers with some deeper themes? Do you recognize these structures in the book you are reading this week/month? How does the author weave the internal story thread throughout the action? 

I hope you've found something of value in my ramblings about the inner workings of story. If you are interested in learning more, check out The Story Grid. Happy January and have a wonderful weekend!

Growing as a Writer

I've been thinking about the question my colleagues have been discussing about what is required to become a competent writer -- innate talent, hard work, acquiring craft-related skills? As I was thinking about that I read Donis's post yesterday about the challenges of a long-running series.

My Lizzie Stuart series is only up to the fifth book. In fact, after the fifth book was published back in 2011, I wrote two Hannah McCabe books. In July 2014, a Lizzie Stuart short story (inspired by some research I was doing) was published in Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine. But the short story did not move the characters forward. They have been in limbo for five years.

And now it's a few months later in series times, and I'm at work on Lizzie Stuart mystery Number 6. I'm writing this book because I have a story that I really want to tell. I'm also writing it because I hear from readers who they love the series and when am I going to do another book? Was that the last? What writer can resist when readers care about her or his characters and are waiting to find out what's happening in their lives?

Donis raised the issue of the character-arc. If the characters' lives are changing over the course of the series, how does one make each book in a series a stand-alone? I have always struggled with that. I can truthfully tell a potential reader that she can pick up any book in my Lizzie Stuart series and read a murder mystery that is complete in itself. No, one need not read the first Hannah McCabe novel before reading the second. But if a reader says that she likes to read a series in order because of the evolving relationships, I don't try to talk her out of that approach. As a reader, I have often picked up a book mid-series and then gone back to "catch-up" before moving on. I like relationships and back stories. That's one of the reasons I read any book, including a mystery.

But even though I struggle with the character arc dilemma, I have gotten better at dealing with it. I can now slip in back story here and there, without having Lizzie stop to say, "Two years ago when I was in Cornwall, I was involved in a murder case and that's when . . ." I'm a bit more subtle these days.

That brings me to the discussion we've been having about innate talent vs. hard work to acquire craft. I know I started out with imagination. From the time I was a small child, I told myself bedtime stories with recurring characters. When I was older, I started to write those stories down. But the process of becoming a functioning writer required that I discipline my imagination and hone any innate talent I may have possessed.

Aside from the basics of grammar and story structure, I had to learn the discipline of getting out of my comfortable chair (where I was thinking about my book) and going to my desk to get it down on paper. I had to learn the discipline of revising and revising and revising. I had to learn the discipline -- and develop a thick enough skin -- to sit quietly and listen and then ask lots of questions when someone I had asked to critique what I had written gave me an honest opinion. I had to learn the discipline not to rush the story, to let it evolve, and take wrong turns, to wait for all the pieces to fall into place.

I think that may be the difference between talented amateurs and professional writers. Having talent and imagination means nothing until one learns discipline. It's hard and frustrating, especially when working hard doesn't mean that one rises to the top of the New York Times bestseller list. But, on the other hand, discipline is good for the soul. And writing may be the one area in my life where I manage to consistently do what I should do.