Micah Charlson

Is It Time to Rethink Swain's Sequels?

I’ve been wanting to follow up on my last post for some time, but every time start to dig in I get overwhelmed by the sheer size of it.

And if I, who wrote it, am having trouble, I have to believe most of you are also.

To that end I’m reposting it, in an attempt to summarize what I was really trying to say.

In particular, I’m going to be ripping apart the comments that were copied into that post and selecting only what’s necessary for understanding my point.

In this version of this post, I’ll still be keeping some good deal of the original post entirely though. And, to clarify things a bit more, I’ve added some section headers to set off different areas of the post, and added an area where I summarize what the key point of that section is. Occasionally I’ve tried to add paragraph breaks and other whitespace to give the post a less dense look for improved readability.

Somewhat briefer, then:

This article is in response to a guest post by Peter von Stackelberg on K.M. Weiland’s blog, and what he had to say about creating scene structure (An Intuitive 4-Step Process for Creating Vibrant Scene Structure), as well as the questions it raised for myself and others.

An understanding of Dwight V. Swain’s Scene and Sequel technique is necessary for every writer hoping for success, but if you’re unfamiliar with it then reading Weiland’s series on How to Structure Scenes in Your Story should get you up to speed.

This will be my attempt to synthesize Swain’s concepts with what von Stackelberg had to say about creating scene structure, specifically regarding how I feel von Stackelberg’s concepts fits into Swain’s. (It’s entirely possible I’ll find it makes more sense looking at it the other way around—how Swain’s concepts fit into von Stackelberg—though when all’s said and done, I’ve knows about Swain’s work longest.)

When relying on comments left on Weiland’s blog, I’ll give credit to the commenter and note the time/date of their comment.

To begin…

My Initial Thoughts

Here are my initial thoughts before reading any of the comments readers left. That is, my initial thoughts based solely on von Stackelberg’s post.

I believe before implementing von Stackelberg’s four questions under “Scene Structure as a Writing Template”, writers must understand the character’s scene goal.

Once the character’s scene goal has been determined, it’s possible to proceed to those four questions. After they’re used to flesh out the scene, they can be interwoven into Swain’s scene structure. Sequels are another matter entirely.

The resulting merging of the steps looks like this:

Step 1: Identify the POV character’s immediate goal for this new Scene.

Step 2: Determine what the Scene’s Peak action is.

Step 3: Identify what set into motion the Peak action? What is the Initiate element?

Step 4: What is the result of the Peak action? What is the Release?

Step 5: Where did this all happen? When? Who was involved? This is the Establish element.

Step 6: Fill in Orienting information about the setting, timing, or context of the scene which will help the reader understand the where, when, and who of the scene.

Step 7: Fill in additional Details about character’s, settings, or significant objects in the Initiate (or, sparingly, the Release) elements.

Step 8: Add Prolongs, additional actions that prolong the overall action, to create suspense—which heightens dramatic tension—typically in the Initiate sequence (or, rarely, in the Release sequence.)

Step 9: Write the Sequel (Reaction, Dilemma, Decision) as normal, creating the character’s goal for the next scene.

Key Point of My Initial Thoughts

I believed scenes and sequels were alike, yet different from each other.

My Subsequent Thoughts (During/After Reading Comments)

Reading through all the comments forced me to reconsider some of what I earlier determined to be true. In the comments below, I’ve italicized items of particular interest.

On the topic of cliffhangers:

Based on this snip from a comment from Peter Moore (JULY 13, 2020 AT 12:52 PM):

How do scenes that end with heightened tension fit into this scene structure?

And this snip from von Stackelberg’s response (JULY 13, 2020 AT 1:58 PM):

From the story flow perspective, this kind of cliffhanger is very disruptive for a couple of reasons:

It leaves readers hanging without any sort of resolution to what happened in the scene.

It disrupts the flow of the story because you then need to have the Release at the beginning of the next chapter/scene or, if there are intervening chapters/scenes, at the beginning of the scene where you return to the part of the storyline where you left off with the cliffhanger. The research (and I tend to be a believer in research) tells us that the sequence of Establish > Initiate > Peak > Release is important for readers/viewers understanding of what happens in a scene.

As a writer, I want my scenes to end in a way that prompts readers to move on to the next chapter.

You can certainly do it by going Release (for previous scene) > Establish > Initiate > Peak. However, as both a writer and a reader, that sequence of elements leaves me feeling unsatisfied. I want some sort of conclusion to the scene.

I think the answer to “Where do you end a chapter?” is not in moving the Release to some other chapter, but to focus on using the Release as a place where you basically let your audience know whether the scene’s main character achieved his/her scene goal. The suspense comes not from withholding information (i.e. the Release), but by adding a tidbit of new information.

For example, your protagonist has achieved (or not achieved) his/her scene goals but…is now in deeper doo-doo because…

This raising and releasing of dramatic tension is a real challenge to pull off. Once you master it, however, you are well on your way to writing some real page-turners.

And this response (JULY 22, 2020 AT 11:07 PM):

Your comment about not liking cliffhangers resonated with me. Giving the reader more information to ratchet up the tension is so much more difficult but also more organic/less contrived.

But more relevant information, that builds on what the reader already knows, thrusts/carries the reader forward into the next scene with the confidence that their questions are going to be resolved. They are eager to read to the end of the next scene.

I must conclude that a scene isn’t finished until the Release has been incorporated. The resulting suspense isn’t built so much from “What happened next?” as it is from the reader asking “How did what happened just affect the character, thereby changing the character’s thinking, plans, and the character’s core being?”

Key Point on the Topic of Cliffhangers

Suspense at the end of a scene can be maintained by causing the reader to wonder how what happened to the character is affecting said character.

On the topic of mapping Swain’s concepts to von Stackelberg’s for vibrant scene structure:

Based on this comment from Jennifer Bobrowicz (JULY 14, 2020 AT 9:40 AM):

Your article helps me better understand how to keep my scenes focused while including important details. In a nutshell, the scene’s Peak drives the writing of that scene.

However, I’m confused on how I could use your framework along with the model of scene/sequel KM Weiland explains in her books. Katy’s method has helped immensely with structuring my WIP, but I’d like to know if I can meld the two. So, here are my specific questions.

The Peak Action seems like it could be the Disaster in the Scene (Weiland) and the Outcome [Micah Charlson’s note: I believe this is the Release?] seems like it could apply to the Reaction in the Sequel (Weiland). The Outcome would then go into the next scene or even the next chapter. Your framework has scenes divided into 4 parts, while Katy shows two types of scenes (Scene/Sequel) with each divided into 3 parts. Perhaps, I’m splitting hairs or not fully understanding something. The Scene/Sequel framework (Weiland) seems to work well in establishing goal, conflict, and a mini climax (Disaster in the Scene), and then it (hopefully) keeps the reader wondering how the character will respond in the next scene/chapter.

So, can the two methods be melded together? In your opinion, is ending with the Peak and picking up with the Outcome a mistake? Do I understand correctly that the scene should be wrapped up (no cliffhangers) with the Outcome, then a new question should be raised to keep the reader going?

And this partial response from Peter von Stackelberg (JULY 14, 2020 AT 1:51 PM):

…

These two scenes from “All the President’s Men” — https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gn3MSQogVeY — for a great example of how to use the Establish > Initiate > Peak > Release structure. As well, these two scenes are an excellent example of how to do the 1-2 punch of Scene & Sequel that Katie talks about.

The terminology of “Scene” and “Sequel” can, I think, be somewhat misleading because it makes it appear that there is one of each. In fact, I think as Katie has pointed out, both the “Scene” and “Sequel” are scenes as we would normally define them — they have their own set of characters interacting in a well defined time and space.

Both the initial scene and the one that follows should be developed using the E.I.P.R. structure. In the clip from All the President’s Men, these phases are pretty clear in the first scene but a little more subtle in the second scene but also follows the E.I.P.R. structure.

I’ll admit this twists my thinking a bit. To explain, I’ll use the following definitions of Scenes and Sequels as I’ve always understood them:

A Scene is a scene in which the character attempts to achieve an immediate goal—this attempt being one type of action in the cycle of “Goal, Conflict, Disaster”, though I prefer the terminology of “Goal, Conflict, Outcome”—in the service of achieving the overall story goal, whatever that may be. I think I’d say most of the time, if not always, Scenes provide the external action, or the plot. (But it is early as I write this, “early” herein defined as “I haven’t had nearly enough coffee yet.” Still, I’d bet I’m correct, keeping in mind I did say “most of the time.”)

A Sequel is a scene in which the character processes the Scene’s Outcome (good or bad)—this processing itself being simply another type of action, in the pattern of “Reaction, Dilemma, Decision” (leading to the next Scene’s Goal.) So a Sequel, it could be said, is just a scene with a different type of goal than the goal of a Scene:

The goal of a Sequel could be stated as “to process the previous Scene’s Outcome, weighing the pros and cons of each option going forward, and considering all the benefits and consequences inherent in each possible action, in order to determine the best course of action for continuing to pursue the overall story goal.” This processing of the Outcome is, in a Sequel, known as the Reaction. (This is a kind of cost-benefit analysis (CBA) of the contemplated actions for the next Scene.)

This pursuit of the Sequel’s goal—the actual performance of the CBA if you will—is the Sequel’s version of the Scene’s Conflict, which in a Sequel is called the Dilemma, an internal conflict.

This internal conflict, this CBA (even if a team effort, with much back and forth dialogue and apparent plot action) must lead the character—alone, in essence—to make a Decision (the Sequel’s version of the Scene’s Outcome) he or she will commit to—if only in the short term. This commitment to the Decision will always be initially an internal act, even if expressed explicitly after the Decision has been made. (You gotta decide before you can tell anyone what you’ve decided, right?)

Key Point on the topic of mapping Swain’s concepts to von Stackelberg’s for vibrant scene structure:

Sequels are Scenes where the Goal, Conflict, and Outcome are internal versus external, and thus have the same structure.

Are sequels even needed?

Now, before I make my controversial suggestion here, let it be known that I still believe Dwight Swain was a genius and I’ll highly revere all that he’s taught all of us.

That said, if a Sequel is simply another type of Scene, and should be developed no differently than a Scene employing the overlying mesh of E.I.P.R., then perhaps it’s time to scrap the idea of a Sequel completely. Because, in reality, a Sequel could also be viewed as having these parts:

Goal (react to the Scene’s Disaster and determine the next course of action—i.e., the next Scene’s Goal)

Conflict (struggle within—i.e., an internal conflict—with the pros and cons alternative courses of action and the consequences of each; literally, a Dilemma)

Outcome (whereby a decision is reached and the next Scene’s Goal is established)

So, it might be helpful (to some of us) to forgo any thought of writing Sequels altogether, and instead think of writing internal Scenes in their place.

That’s probably the same end result, but changing our own internal thought processes might point our minds in different directions, and unlock other possibilities for our stories.

Another possibility is when, while reviewing previous work writing in the Scene/Sequel format, making the attempt at looking at these Sequels through this different lens.

In Conclusion

So, finally, bringing all this back to von Stackelberg and his excellent post, each scene—Scene or Sequel—will end with an Outcome, which will require the Release element be incorporated into the Scene (external/“Scene”, or internal/“Sequel”.) Deleting Step 9 from the merging that resulted, the steps look like this:

Step 1: Identify the character’s immediate goal for this new Scene

External: What action has the character decided upon after the last internal scene.

Internal: How did the previous scenes Outcome affect the character as he or she begins to come to a decision what to do next?

Step 2: Determine what the Scene’s Peak action is.

Step 3: Identify what set into motion the Peak action? What is the Initiate element?

Step 4: What is the result of the Peak action? What is the Release?

Step 5: Where did this all happen? When? Who was involved? This is the Establish element.

Step 6: Fill in Orienting information about the setting, timing, or context of the scene which will help the reader understand the where, when, and who of the scene.

Step 7: Fill in additional Details about character’s, settings, or significant objects in the Initiate (or, sparingly, the Release) elements.

Step 8: Add Prolongs, additional actions that prolong the overall action, to create suspense—which heightens dramatic tension—typically in the Initiate sequence (or, rarely, in the Release Peak sequence.)

I promise you, I still have some unsettled feelings on some level that I’m having trouble coming to grips with, let alone being able to articulate. But when that day comes that I can put what I’m feeling into words, I’ll have more to say on the topic.

This post is in response to a guest post by Peter von Stackelberg on K.M. Weiland’s blog, and what he had to say about creating scene structure (An Intuitive 4-Step Process for Creating Vibrant Scene Structure), as well as the questions it raised for myself and others.

An understanding of Dwight V. Swain’s Scene and Sequel technique is necessary for every writer hoping for success, but if you’re unfamiliar with it then reading Katie’s excellent series on How to Structure Scenes in Your Story should get you up to speed.

This will be my attempt to synthesize Swain’s concepts with what von Stackelberg had to say about creating scene structure, specifically regarding how I feel von Stackelberg’s concepts fits into Swain’s. (It’s entirely possible I’ll find it makes more sense looking at it the other way around—how Swain’s concepts fit into von Stackelberg—though when all’s said and done, I’ve knows about Swain’s work longest.)

When relying on comments left on Weiland’s blog, I’ll give credit to the commenter and note the time/date of their comment.

To begin…

My Initial Thoughts

Here are my initial thoughts before reading any of the comments readers left. That is, my initial thoughts based solely on von Stackelberg’s post.

I believe before implementing von Stackelberg’s four questions under “Scene Structure as a Writing Template”, writers must understand the character’s scene goal.

Once the character’s scene goal has been determined, it’s possible to proceed to those four questions. After they’re used to flesh out the scene, they can be interwoven into Swain’s scene structure. Sequels are another matter entirely.

The resulting merging of the steps looks like this:

Step 1: Identify the POV character’s immediate goal for this new Scene.

Step 2: Determine what the Scene’s Peak action is.

Step 3: Identify what set into motion the Peak action? What is the Initiate element?

Step 4: What is the result of the Peak action? What is the Release?

Step 5: Where did this all happen? When? Who was involved? This is the Establish element.

Step 6: Fill in Orienting information about the setting, timing, or context of the scene which will help the reader understand the where, when, and who of the scene.

Step 7: Fill in additional Details about character’s, settings, or significant objects in the Initiate (or, sparingly, the Release) elements.

Step 8: Add Prolongs, additional actions that prolong the overall action, to create suspense—which heightens dramatic tension—typically in the Initiate sequence (or, rarely, in the Release sequence.)

Step 9: Write the Sequel (Reaction, Dilemma, Decision) as normal, creating the character’s goal for the next scene.

My Subsequent Thoughts (During/After Reading Comments)

Reading through all the comments forced me to reconsider some of what I earlier determined to be true.

In these comments below, any italicized text indicates points I found to be of particular interest.

Based on this comment from Peter Moore (JULY 13, 2020 AT 12:52 PM):

Great post. Thanks for having Peter as a guest. The more us newbies learn about the craft, the better. I have a question though. How do scenes that end with heightened tension fit into this scene structure? For example, chapter ending scenes in action/detective/sci fi/fantasy movies and books where characters are wounded, the scene fades and we don’t know if he/she lives or dies. I’m thinking of Peter Jackson’s movie adaptation of The Return of the King where Frodo is stung by Shelob. He immediately sends us to scenes with other characters. Tolkien handles it more like Peter states, even placing it as one of the last scenes of The Two Tower, and ending the book with ‘Frodo was alive but taken by the Enemy.’

I’ve seen a lot of posts that advise increasing the tension at the end of each chapter as a page turner device instead of releasing the tension. Is that one of the ‘except when it doesn’t’ things that Peter says at the beginning of the post, or am I misunderstanding something?

And this response from pvonstackelberg (JULY 13, 2020 AT 1:58 PM):

In my opinion, the use of cliffhangers needs to be approached with great caution. As a reader or viewer, I absolutely HATE obvious cliffhangers that appear manipulative and intended solely to get me to move on to the next chapter/episode. An example of this kind of thing is when the shot is fired…and then nothing…there is no Release.

From the story flow perspective, this kind of cliffhanger is very disruptive for a couple of reasons:

1) It leaves readers hanging without any sort of resolution to what happened in the scene

2) It disrupts the flow of the story because you then need to have the Release at the beginning of the next chapter/scene or, if there are intervening chapters/scenes, at the beginning of the scene where you return to the part of the storyline where you left off with the cliffhanger. The research (and I tend to be a believer in research) tells us that the sequence of Establish > Initiate > Peak > Release is important for readers/viewers understanding of what happens in a scene.

As a writer, I want my scenes to end in a way that prompts readers to move on to the next chapter.

You can certainly do it by going Release (for previous scene) > Establish > Initiate > Peak. However, as both a writer and a reader, that sequence of elements leaves me feeling unsatisfied. I want some sort of conclusion to the scene.

I think the answer to “Where do you end a chapter?” is not in moving the Release to some other chapter, but to focus on using the Release as a place where you basically let your audience know whether the scene’s main character achieved his/her scene goal. The suspense comes not from withholding information (i.e. the Release), but by adding a tidbit of new information.

For example, your protagonist has achieved (or not achieved) his/her scene goals but…is now in deeper doo-doo because…

This raising and releasing of dramatic tension is a real challenge to pull off. Once you master it, however, you are well on your way to writing some real page-turners.

And this response from Elizabeth L Richards (JULY 22, 2020 AT 11:07 PM):

Your comment about not liking cliffhangers resonated with me. Giving the reader more information to ratchet up the tension is so much more difficult but also more organic/less contrived.

Thinking about why cliffhangers are not fun, I realised that a cliffhanger requires me as the reader to devote part of my attention to maintaining the unresolved scene. Which leaves less of my attention to focus on the next part of the story. And given that humans have limited ability to hold multiple concepts in working memory (4-7 depending on what you read), you are actually Distracting your reader from the next scene. With less attention To focus, they are less invested. And so they wander off – maybe to jump ahead and see how the dangling bit gets resolved or to do something else that caught their limited attention.

But more relevant information, that builds on what the reader already knows, thrusts/carries the reader forward into the next scene with the confidence that their questions are going to be resolved. They are eager to read to the end of the next scene.

I think it’s like going into a restaurant that smells really good, reading a compelling menu, oRedoing something that sounds great…and then waiting too long for the entree to be delivered. Waiting doesn’t increase my pleasure, And it doesn’t make me want to come back.

I must conclude that a scene isn’t finished until the Release has been incorporated. The resulting suspense isn’t built so much from “What happened next?” as it is from the reader asking “How did what happened just affect the character, thereby changing the character’s thinking, plans, and the character’s core being?”

Based on this comment from Jennifer Bobrowicz (JULY 14, 2020 AT 9:40 AM):

Your article helps me better understand how to keep my scenes focused while including important details. This is my first attempt at a novel, so my learning curve has been steep. In a nutshell, the scene’s Peak drives the writing of that scene.

However, I’m confused on how I could use your framework along with the model of scene/sequel KM Weiland explains in her books. Katy’s method has helped immensely with structuring my WIP, but I’d like to know if I can meld the two. So, here are my specific questions.

The Peak Action seems like it could be the Disaster in the Scene (Weiland) and the Outcome [Micah Charlson’s note: I believe this is the Release?] seems like it could apply to the Reaction in the Sequel (Weiland). The Outcome would then go into the next scene or even the next chapter. Your framework has scenes divided into 4 parts, while Katy shows two types of scenes (Scene/Sequel) with each divided into 3 parts. Perhaps, I’m splitting hairs or not fully understanding something. The Scene/Sequel framework (Weiland) seems to work well in establishing goal, conflict, and a mini climax (Disaster in the Scene), and then it (hopefully) keeps the reader wondering how the character will respond in the next scene/chapter.

So, can the two methods be melded together? In your opinion, is ending with the Peak and picking up with the Outcome a mistake? Do I understand correctly that the scene should be wrapped up (no cliffhangers) with the Outcome, then a new question should be raised to keep the reader going?

Thanks for this article. This website has been so helpful to me and given me a boost of confidence to begin. Hopefully, this makes sense.

And this partial response from pvonstackelberg ( JULY 14, 2020 AT 1:51 PM):

…

These two scenes from “All the President’s Men” — https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gn3MSQogVeY — for a great example of how to use the Establish > Initiate > Peak > Release structure. As well, these two scenes are an excellent example of how to do the 1-2 punch of Scene & Sequel that Katie talks about.

The terminology of “Scene” and “Sequel” can, I think, be somewhat misleading because it makes it appear that there is one of each. In fact, I think as Katie has pointed out, both the “Scene” and “Sequel” are scenes as we would normally define them — they have their own set of characters interacting in a well defined time and space.

Both the initial scene and the one that follows should be developed using the E.I.P.R. structure. In the clip from All the President’s Men, these phases are pretty clear in the first scene but a little more subtle in the second scene but also follows the E.I.P.R. structure.

I’ll admit this twists my thinking a bit.

To explain, I’ll use the following definitions of Scenes and Sequels as I’ve always understood them:

A Scene is a scene in which the character attempts to achieve an immediate goal—this attempt being one type of action in the cycle of “Goal, Conflict, Disaster”, though I prefer the terminology of “Goal, Conflict, Outcome”—in the service of achieving the overall story goal, whatever that may be. I think I’d say most of the time, if not always, Scenes provide the external action, or the plot. (But it is early as I write this, “early” herein defined as “I haven’t had nearly enough coffee yet.” Still, I’d bet I’m correct, keeping in mind I did say “most of the time.”)

A Sequel is a scene in which the character processes the Scene’s Outcome (good or bad)—this processing itself being simply another type of action, in the pattern of “Reaction, Dilemma, Decision” (leading to the next Scene’s Goal.) So a Sequel, it could be said, is just a scene with a different type of goal than the goal of a Scene:

The goal of a Sequel could be stated as “to process the previous Scene’s Outcome, weighing the pros and cons of each option going forward, and considering all the benefits and consequences inherent in each possible action, in order to determine the best course of action for continuing to pursue the overall story goal.” This processing of the Outcome is, in a Sequel, known as the Reaction. (This is a kind of cost-benefit analysis (CBA) of the contemplated actions for the next Scene.)

This pursuit of the Sequel’s goal—the actual performance of the CBA if you will—is the Sequel’s version of the Scene’s Conflict, which in a Sequel is called the Dilemma, an internal conflict.

This internal conflict, this CBA (even if a team effort, with much back and forth dialogue and apparent plot action) must lead the character—alone, in essence—to make a Decision (the Sequel’s version of the Scene’s Outcome) he or she will commit to—if only in the short term. This commitment to the Decision will always be initially an internal act, even if expressed explicitly after the Decision has been made. (You gotta decide before you can tell anyone what you’ve decided, right?)

Now, before I make my controversial suggestion here, let it be known that I still believe Dwight Swain was a genius and I’ll highly revere all that he’s taught all of us. That said, if a Sequel is simply another type of Scene, and should be developed no differently than a Scene employing the overlying mesh of E.I.P.R., then perhaps it’s time to scrap the idea of a Sequel completely. Because, in reality, a Sequel could also be viewed as having these parts:

Goal (react to the Scene’s Disaster and determine the next course of action—i.e., the next Scene’s Goal)

Conflict (struggle within—i.e., an internal conflict—with the pros and cons alternative courses of action and the consequences of each; literally, a Dilemma)

Outcome (whereby a decision is reached and the next Scene’s Goal is established)

So, it might be helpful (to some of us) to forgo any thought of writing Sequels altogether, and instead think of writing internal Scenes in their place.

Probably the same end result, but the change in our own internal thought processes might point our minds in different directions, and unlock other possibilities for our stories.

Another possibility is when, while reviewing previous work writing in the Scene/Sequel format, making the attempt at looking at these Sequels through this different lens.

So, finally, bringing all this back to von Stackelberg and this excellent post, each scene—Scene or Sequel—will end with a Outcome, which will require the Release element be incorporated into the Scene (external/“Scene”, or internal/“Sequel”.) Deleting Step 9 from the merging that resulted, the steps look like this:

Step 1: Identify the character’s immediate goal for this new Scene

External: What action has the character decided upon after the last internal scene.

Internal: How did the previous scenes Outcome affect the character as he or she begins to come to a decision what to do next?

Step 2: Determine what the Scene’s Peak action is.

Step 3: Identify what set into motion the Peak action? What is the Initiate element?

Step 4: What is the result of the Peak action? What is the Release?

Step 5: Where did this all happen? When? Who was involved? This is the Establish element.

Step 6: Fill in Orienting information about the setting, timing, or context of the scene which will help the reader understand the where, when, and who of the scene.

Step 7: Fill in additional Details about character’s, settings, or significant objects in the Initiate (or, sparingly, the Release) elements.

Way back when—when I decided I seriously wanted to be an author when I grew up (I must’ve been in my mid-thirties at the time)—I started reading all I could about the craft.

Many of the books I read insisted Techniques of the Selling Writer by Dwight Swain should be among the books I read.

I’ll admit I found the book difficult to get into at the time, but I did find a four CD collection of two seminars he’d given called Dwight Swain: Master Writing Teacher that I’ve loved and listen to often.

Among the gems within, he gave me this tidbit for identifying the main idea behind a story which I use as a story sparker when stuck:

“Who wants to do what, and why can’t he?”

Over the years I’ve used that to start (but rarely finish) a story. Flash forward to the present day, where I’m currently reading Wired for Story: The Writer’s Guide to Using Brain Science to Hook Readers from the Very First Sentence by Lisa Cron. In this book, Ms. Cron says:

“The story isn’t about whether or not the protagonist achieves her goal per se; it’s about what she has to overcome internally to do it.”

This leads me to a new story sparker (a “Cron/Swain” story sparker, if you will) which would be:

“Who wants to do what, and what does she have to overcome internally to do it?”

Writing is scary, filling novice and experienced authors alike with fear. And “the scariest moment”, as Stephen King knowingly asserts, “is always just before you start.”

The best way I’ve found to overcome that fear—even if you know you have no idea what you’ll write about as you head for wherever you do your writing—is to plant your ass in the chair and start to write.

Just sit down and write.

Write anything.

Yesterday I faced this situation and wound up writing about a fictional author who sat down to write, intimidated by the blinking cursor, and started writing something just to be started on something:

Carl sat in his chair and stared at the screen. The cursor blinked its accusation at him, daring him to listen to the whisper of his muse. C’mon Carl, it seemed to say. Think you can be a writer, do you? Humph.

Carl laughed to himself, without amusement but filled with true commitment. “My ass is in the chair, damn it. I’ll show you what I can do.”

He began to type.

And type he did.The 111 words he—and by “he” I mean “I”—wrote is actually not too bad a start of something. Indeed, it’s certainly better than this section above it took to get me started, so I will probably keep just that bit “he” wrote and drop him and the blank screen bit completely.

As I mentioned in my July 28, 2016 post, The Great Idea Hunt, I’m always on the lookout for story ideas.

A quick aside: In a glimmer post-posting hindsight, it occurred to me later that the title of this post could be read two ways. The first way I could have meant it is as the hunt for a great idea, which is always to be desired.

However this isn’t what I was getting at.

Not at all.

At the time I posted this, and for that matter still, I intended it to be read as the great hunt for an idea. Dwight V. Swain said something along the lines that the best way to find a great idea is to find a whole bunch of bad ideas; sooner or later a great one will pop up in the bunch. I belief this too, as bad as I am at even coming up with ideas.

Now, since I completely agree with Syd Field’s assertion that all drama is conflict, and since I see the source of said conflict as being one or more thwarted desires, then said thwarted desires are what The Great Idea Hunt, is all about.

If I’m successful in my hunt for one or more thwarted desires, I’ve in all likelihood found an idea from which I can build a story.

As such, I’ve come up with a form of sorts. As I read a news story I will highlight any part of the story that could conceivably thwart someone’s desire, (whether it is a want to possess something, relief from something, or revenge for something), then make a list of ten desires that could conceivably be thwarted by this news.

Here’s an example of what I mean:

For a better look, click here.

I have this form as a PDF file that you can download and markup as you wish. It is available here.

I have always struggled with one oft-recommended part of creating story ideas: the tried-and-true of coming up with story ideas from news stories.

Tried and true for, apparently, many writers. I’m just not one of them. I’ve bookmarked web pages galore (or so it seems) that explain the process and when I open the paper I stare at it dumbfounded.

There were, to my dim-witted mind, no stories in the paper. But now, with my new awareness that story ideas can come from the search for thwarted desires (which must always result in conflict, right?) all I have to do is look at a story in the paper and ask myself one question: “What type of person could oppose this news, and what is there thwarted desire that drives them to such opposition?”

I haven’t tried this yet, but I’m going to give it a go the next time I sit down to brainstorm.

As a writer, I’m always on the lookout for an idea. Any idea. A character. A “what if?” A story. Gawd, yes! A story!

As an insecure writer, I’m always convinced I’ve found my last story idea. As such, when I got this in a fortune cookie some time back I—of course—pooh-poohed the first phrase. “Of course the difficulty is coming up with new ideas, Stupid Fortune Cookie,” I thought. WTF do you know?

Then there’s Orson Scott Card, who said:

Lately, however, I’m more and more reminded of what Dwight V. Swain had to say about coming up with stories. Swain said to ask yourself:

Which of course reminded me of what the late Syd Field had to say: