Plot Bunnies and Writing Thoughts

How can you say something about your character's personality without having to say it in plain-words to your reader?

So often, readers hate being told what they are supposed to feel about a character, and instead want to come to their own conclusions.

You can find great examples of this in books as well as film, so I actually want to share this example from a John August screenplay, which I think really smashes this concept out of the park.

Do you see how we have already made assumptions about these characters, not just as individuals, but also about their dynamic together. I have completely fabricated a wild back story about their divorce in my brain, all with a few simple words from John.

You know what needs to happen in your story. But, your characters can't know what needs to happen.

Since you know where they are ending up, send them a bit out of the way first.

For example, if your plot is a straight line, send them off of that straight line and then make it hard for them to get back on track. That will make it more meaningful when they arrive at the next checkpoint along the line.

In short, you control the plot, but the characters control the story.

The story is the characters trying to figure out the plot and arrive at the end. Which is why it is so important that they cannot know where they are going.

When a piece of writing falls apart in the second act, it is often because you were just shoving action-filled plot down the characters throats and not allowing them to be part of a bigger story.

Therefore, the characters are exhausted and so are we. There is nowhere to go because we aren't invested in the story and neither are the characters.

Could you take any piece of dialogue in your work and know exactly which character is saying it? Yes? Great. No? No bueno.

Could you take a piece of dialogue and give it to any character and it would still make sense? If so, that ain't good pal.

Is the character saying what they want to say? Or what the story needs them to say?

It should always be what they want to say, and then that just happens to move the story forward. Otherwise, they are puppets on strings with no personality.

Your story, novel, fic, whatever, is made up of scenes, right? These scenes should always have a point and should be moving the story forward in some way in order for your readers to not get bored. Nobody loves 100k of just fluff (if you do, bb we need to unpack that).

One way to structure an impactful scene and story is to follow something called the Hegelian Dialectic, which is where you take a thesis (true statement) and then apply that to an antithesis (no, that's actually not true because of 'x').

When those two things collide, your characters then have to confront that difference and create a new thesis based on this information. Then they enter the next act with that new thesis, get confronted with another antithesis, and so on and so on.

And who is the person torturing the characters and making them confront these? You.

How do you start this process? Your character should be introduced to us in some kind of stasis. Some kind of norm that they are used to, and then you need to disrupt it. Really shove the knife in and make it uncomfortable, make them really face the thesis head on.

Then you should force them into a decision where they can never go back to that stasis ever again. And then make that painful.

In short, your character should have a different outlook when we leave them than when the story began. They should be changed and we should believe it. That is why, they need to be given the opportunity to go back to the old stasis ways, but then reject the opportunity because they have grown and now know better.

Quick questions I answer before I get too deep into my writing. These specific questions came to me via the Scriptnotes podcast, which you can find here.

What do they think at the beginning? 

What do they think differently at the end?

Why is that difference interesting?

What decision are they going to make, that can epitomize that new state of mind. Which action?

In six seconds, you’ll hate me.

But in six months, you’ll be a better writer.

From this point forward – at least for the next half year – you may not use “thought” verbs.  These include:  Thinks, Knows, Understands, Realizes, Believes, Wants, Remembers, Imagines, Desires, and a hundred others you love to use. 

The list should also include:  Loves and Hates.

And it should include:  Is and Has, but we’ll get to those, later.

Until some time around Christmas, you can’t write:  Kenny wondered if Monica didn’t like him going out at night…”

Thinking is abstract.  Knowing and believing are intangible.  Your story will always be stronger if you just show the physical actions and details of your characters and allow your reader to do the thinking and knowing.  And loving and hating.

Instead, you’ll have to Un-pack that to something like:  “The mornings after Kenny had stayed out, beyond the last bus, until he’d had to bum a ride or pay for a cab and got home to find Monica faking sleep, faking because she never slept that quiet, those mornings, she’d only put her own cup of coffee in the microwave.  Never his.”

Instead of characters knowing anything, you must now present the details that allow the reader to know them.  Instead of a character wanting something, you must now describe the thing so that the reader wants it.

Instead of saying:  “Adam knew Gwen liked him.”

You’ll have to say:  “Between classes, Gwen was always leaned on his locker when he’d go to open it.  She’d roll her eyes and shove off with one foot, leaving a black-heel mark on the painted metal, but she also left the smell of her perfume.  The combination lock would still be warm from her ass.  And the next break, Gwen would be leaned there, again.”

In short, no more short-cuts.  Only specific sensory detail: action, smell, taste, sound, and feeling.

Typically, writers use these “thought” verbs at the beginning of a paragraph  (In this form, you can call them “Thesis Statements” and I’ll rail against those, later)  In a way, they state the intention of the paragraph.  And what follows, illustrates them.

For example:

“Brenda knew she’d never make the deadline.  Traffic was backed up from the bridge, past the first eight or nine exits.  Her cell phone battery was dead.  At home, the dogs would need to go out, or there would be a mess to clean up.  Plus, she’d promised to water the plants for her neighbor…”

Do you see how the opening “thesis statement” steals the thunder of what follows?  Don’t do it.

If nothing else, cut the opening sentence and place it after all the others.  Better yet, transplant it and change it to:  Brenda would never make the deadline.

Thinking is abstract.  Knowing and believing are intangible.  Your story will always be stronger if you just show the physical actions and details of your characters and allow your reader to do the thinking and knowing.  And loving and hating.

Don’t tell your reader:  “Lisa hated Tom.”

Instead, make your case like a lawyer in court, detail by detail.  Present each piece of evidence.  For example:

“During role call, in the breath after the teacher said Tom’s name, in that moment before he could answer, right then, Lisa would whisper-shout: ‘Butt Wipe,” just as Tom was saying, ‘Here’.”

One of the most-common mistakes that beginning writers make is leaving their characters alone.  Writing, you may be alone.  Reading, your audience may be alone.  But your character should spend very, very little time alone.  Because a solitary character starts thinking or worrying or wondering.  

For example:  Waiting for the bus, Mark started to worry about how long the trip would take..”

A better break-down might be:  “The schedule said the bus would come by at noon, but Mark’s watch said it was already 11:57.  You could see all the way down the road, as far as the Mall, and not see a bus.  No doubt, the driver was parked at the turn-around, the far end of the line, taking a nap.  The driver was kicked back, asleep, and Mark was going to be late.  Or worse, the driver was drinking, and he’d pull up drunk and charge Mark seventy-five cents for death in a fiery traffic accident…”

A character alone must lapse into fantasy or memory, but even then you can’t use “thought” verbs or any of their abstract relatives. 

Oh, and you can just forget about using the verbs forget and remember. 

No more transitions such as:  “Wanda remember how Nelson used to brush her hair.”

Instead:  “Back in their sophomore year, Nelson used to brush her hair with smooth, long strokes of his hand.”

Again, Un-pack.  Don’t take short-cuts.

Better yet, get your character with another character, fast.  Get them together and get the action started.  Let their actions and words show their thoughts.  You -- stay out of  their heads.

And while you’re avoiding “thought” verbs, be very wary about using the bland verbs “is” and “have.”

One of the most-common mistakes that beginning writers make is leaving their characters alone.

For example:

“Ann’s eyes are blue.”

“Ann has blue eyes.”

Versus:

“Ann coughed and waved one hand past her face, clearing the cigarette smoke from her eyes, blue eyes, before she smiled…”

Instead of bland “is” and “has” statements, try burying your details of what a character has or is, in actions or gestures.  At its most basic, this is showing your story instead of telling it. 

And forever after, once you’ve learned to Un-pack your characters, you’ll hate the lazy writer who settles for:  “Jim sat beside the telephone, wondering why Amanda didn’t call.”

Please.  For now, hate me all you want, but don’t use “thought” verbs.  After Christmas, go crazy, but I’d bet money you won’t. 

For this month’s homework

...pick through your writing and circle every “thought” verb.  Then, find some way to eliminate it.  Kill it by Un-packing it.

Then, pick through some published fiction and do the same thing.  Be ruthless.

“Marty imagined fish, jumping in the moonlight…”

“Nancy recalled the way the wine tasted…”

“Larry knew he was a dead man…”

Find them.  After that, find a way to re-write them.  Make them stronger.