When you are composing your story, you can add as much narration and backstory as you want. Feel free to cram in everything you see, hear, imagine, know, and wonder about.
You can do that because you are writing for yourself. Capturing lots of details and getting down the history can build a wonderful base for a convincing, layered, and rich story. The only danger you face in the drafting stage is slowing things down so much you miss the action and harm the pacing. Unless you fall in love with what you put down.
That's a real danger, and the most common flaw I see in manuscripts. You should never force any readers (including contest judges) to wade through big blocks of worldbuilding, flashbacks, memories, reflections, and descriptions. They may like all of these, but they come for the story and most commercial fiction proceeds at a brisk pace, moment to moment.
Why does slowing things down matter? Why does commercial fiction need to
consist overwhelmingly of action and dialogue in the present? Because
we like to identify with the characters. Since we live moment to moment,
any deviation from that in the world of the story is distracting and
distancing. It takes us out of the story.
Now, some narration and backstory needs to be there. A cardinal sin in writing is being unclear. Except in cases where you are deliberately raising questions (which happens a lot in some genres, science fiction probably leading the way), your readers should know what's going on. But they don't need to know as much as you do. I had the pleasure of hearing Candace Havens speak recently, and she referenced icebergs. The story your reader gets is the visible tip, while most remains hidden. Now, you don't have a full iceberg unless the portion below the waterline exists. (Meaning, the writer needs to know a lot more that is expressed in the story or doesn't work.)
For most writers, the hidden part of the story finds expression in exercises (like character building) and what pours out in the first draft. So the problem comes with a failure to deal with all the extras -- the parts that need to be out of sight -- in rewriting.
How to do that, to get the balance right, and to keep the story from being hobbled, is what I'll cover in the next post.
Sunday, June 29, 2014
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
My Writing Process - Answers to four questions
I've been tagged by Nancy Bilyeau, scriptwriter and the brilliant author of The Crown and The Chalice to participate in a blog hop on the writing process. I have four questions to answer, and then I have to tag two authors to do the same.
Here goes.
1. What are you working on?
I always work on two fiction pieces at once. In the morning, I add to a work in progress. Ingenious Daughter is a historical YA romance based on the life of the first female scientist in North America. With no formal training, she outdid her male colleagues and earned the admiration of Ben Franklin. All the while, she had to evade her father's attempts to marry her off to wealthy landowners. I have the story, but my word count is low, so I'm adding fresh chapters.
In the afternoon/evening, I do revisions on a completed draft. Knocked Off Balance is a contemporary YA about a circus arts fanatic who transfers into a school that's had a shooting. I'm sprucing it up in response to an agent's request to see the full manuscript.
2. How does your work differ from others of its genre?
One thing I bring to Ingenious Daughter is a deep knowledge of the joy of experimentation and exploration. I've worked as a chemist and interviewed dozens of scientists about their approaches, so this adds a dimension that's unusual in a romance. I know what drives the heroine to persist even though everyone pressures her to stop research and return to more feminine pursuits.
In Knocked Off Balance, the main character has a weird talent that allows an exploration of what happens to students after the news crews are long gone but the rupture of violence is still fresh.
3.) Why do you write what you do?
I resisted writing YA because I did not want to revisit my teenage years. It took a mentor to point out that much of what I was doing in novels included YA themes and many of the short stories I'd sold were YA stories. So, despite myself, I've found these tales, whether historical or contemporary or SF/F, evoke the emotions that hook me and carry me through to the final words of the project. In the end, it's all about powerful, sometimes overwhelming, emotions.
4.) How does your writing process work?
Not surprising, I work at top speed. For new works, the day before, I decide what scenes I'll compose, usually writing complete sentences. This is as close as I come to outlining nowadays, but I'm not a pure pantser. Years of plotting have worked structure into my bones, so I tend to move toward story beats without planning. I dictate the scenes the next morning (using Dragon Dictate) in 40-minute bursts, breaking for coffee and stretching in between sessions. I keep at it until the scenes I wrote sentences for are all done.
When I work on revisions in the afternoon or evening, these are done with a timer set and I am very specific about what work must be done -- a pass for missing scenes or checking story logic or reading aloud for the sound value of words. I never just sit down to "rewrite." I focus in on one task at a time.
Of course, this blog (How To Write Fast) is filled with details on every aspect of the writing process, and I apply most of these to my own work. Feel free to explore.
I'm passing the baton to two writer friends whose fiction I admire.
Melanie Meadors
A writer of speculative fiction and lover of geeky things, Melanie R. Meadors lives in central Massachusetts, in a one hundred-year-old house full of quirks and surprises. She's been known to befriend wandering garden gnomes, do battle with metal-eating squirrels, and has been called a superhero on on more than one occasion.
Her short fiction has been published in Circle Magazine, The Wheel, and Prick of the Spindle, and has consistently received honorable mentions in the Writers of the Future contest. One of her short stories was a finalist in the 2014 Jim Baen Memorial Science Fiction contest. She’s a publicist with Market or Die Author Services and Publicity Coordinator at Ragnarok Publications. Her blog address is www.melaniermeadors.wordpress.com
Alison McMahan
Alison McMahan writes historicals romances and mysteries for YA and NA audiences. She has an MFA in Creative Writing from the Stonecoast Program at the University of Southern Maine. Her short story, "Monsters on the Border," won an honorable mention from Writers of the Future. Her YA historical mystery- romance, "The Saffron Crocus" won third prize in the Joyce Henderson Contest, second prize (historical category) in the Melody of Love contest, second prize (historical category) in the Utah RWA Great Beginning's contest, and finaled in Daphne and Rosemary contests. She reviews books for Entangled and the Historical Novel Society. Member of RWA, FRWA, AWP, the Historical Novel Society, MWA and ITW.
McMahan is an award-winning screenwriter and author. Published books: The Films of Tim Burton: Animating Live Action in Hollywood (Continuum 2005), and Alice Guy Blaché, Lost Visionary of the Cinema (Continuum 2002), which won two awards, was translated into Spanish, adapted into a play, and optioned for a film. She has written hundreds of articles; complete list on her website. Her blog address is www.AlisonMcMahan.com/blog
Here goes.
1. What are you working on?
I always work on two fiction pieces at once. In the morning, I add to a work in progress. Ingenious Daughter is a historical YA romance based on the life of the first female scientist in North America. With no formal training, she outdid her male colleagues and earned the admiration of Ben Franklin. All the while, she had to evade her father's attempts to marry her off to wealthy landowners. I have the story, but my word count is low, so I'm adding fresh chapters.
In the afternoon/evening, I do revisions on a completed draft. Knocked Off Balance is a contemporary YA about a circus arts fanatic who transfers into a school that's had a shooting. I'm sprucing it up in response to an agent's request to see the full manuscript.
2. How does your work differ from others of its genre?
One thing I bring to Ingenious Daughter is a deep knowledge of the joy of experimentation and exploration. I've worked as a chemist and interviewed dozens of scientists about their approaches, so this adds a dimension that's unusual in a romance. I know what drives the heroine to persist even though everyone pressures her to stop research and return to more feminine pursuits.
In Knocked Off Balance, the main character has a weird talent that allows an exploration of what happens to students after the news crews are long gone but the rupture of violence is still fresh.
3.) Why do you write what you do?
I resisted writing YA because I did not want to revisit my teenage years. It took a mentor to point out that much of what I was doing in novels included YA themes and many of the short stories I'd sold were YA stories. So, despite myself, I've found these tales, whether historical or contemporary or SF/F, evoke the emotions that hook me and carry me through to the final words of the project. In the end, it's all about powerful, sometimes overwhelming, emotions.
4.) How does your writing process work?
Not surprising, I work at top speed. For new works, the day before, I decide what scenes I'll compose, usually writing complete sentences. This is as close as I come to outlining nowadays, but I'm not a pure pantser. Years of plotting have worked structure into my bones, so I tend to move toward story beats without planning. I dictate the scenes the next morning (using Dragon Dictate) in 40-minute bursts, breaking for coffee and stretching in between sessions. I keep at it until the scenes I wrote sentences for are all done.
When I work on revisions in the afternoon or evening, these are done with a timer set and I am very specific about what work must be done -- a pass for missing scenes or checking story logic or reading aloud for the sound value of words. I never just sit down to "rewrite." I focus in on one task at a time.
Of course, this blog (How To Write Fast) is filled with details on every aspect of the writing process, and I apply most of these to my own work. Feel free to explore.
I'm passing the baton to two writer friends whose fiction I admire.
Melanie Meadors
A writer of speculative fiction and lover of geeky things, Melanie R. Meadors lives in central Massachusetts, in a one hundred-year-old house full of quirks and surprises. She's been known to befriend wandering garden gnomes, do battle with metal-eating squirrels, and has been called a superhero on on more than one occasion.
Her short fiction has been published in Circle Magazine, The Wheel, and Prick of the Spindle, and has consistently received honorable mentions in the Writers of the Future contest. One of her short stories was a finalist in the 2014 Jim Baen Memorial Science Fiction contest. She’s a publicist with Market or Die Author Services and Publicity Coordinator at Ragnarok Publications. Her blog address is www.melaniermeadors.wordpress.com
Alison McMahan
Alison McMahan writes historicals romances and mysteries for YA and NA audiences. She has an MFA in Creative Writing from the Stonecoast Program at the University of Southern Maine. Her short story, "Monsters on the Border," won an honorable mention from Writers of the Future. Her YA historical mystery- romance, "The Saffron Crocus" won third prize in the Joyce Henderson Contest, second prize (historical category) in the Melody of Love contest, second prize (historical category) in the Utah RWA Great Beginning's contest, and finaled in Daphne and Rosemary contests. She reviews books for Entangled and the Historical Novel Society. Member of RWA, FRWA, AWP, the Historical Novel Society, MWA and ITW.
McMahan is an award-winning screenwriter and author. Published books: The Films of Tim Burton: Animating Live Action in Hollywood (Continuum 2005), and Alice Guy Blaché, Lost Visionary of the Cinema (Continuum 2002), which won two awards, was translated into Spanish, adapted into a play, and optioned for a film. She has written hundreds of articles; complete list on her website. Her blog address is www.AlisonMcMahan.com/blog
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
How to Give Positive Criticism - Clues for other writers
One of my earliest experiences with writing criticism was of an editor flinging my pages at me and shouting "This is an insult!" Some contest crits are just as harsh. I'm coordinating for two contests at the moment and the spirit of that editor is alive and well.
Here's my radical statement: Every writer is good at something.
It is the job of the contest judge, mentor, crit partner, and writing buddy to find that good thing and articulate it. Not only will this make what needs to be fixed easier to hear and absorb, but it will provide real knowledge.
Many critics assume writers know what they are doing right, but that's not necessarily the case. Those editors in their heads may focus on what's totally messed up, awful, inept -- an insult. They don't have time to worry about the "good" stuff. And maybe that's true for the critics (who usually are writers, too). It makes me wonder what they tell themselves about their own writing.
When I teach a face-to-face class, the simple solution is to ask people to lead with "what worked." In fact, I usually write it in big letters on a whiteboard. When someone gets his or her turn and begins with a screed I hold my hand up, wait for silence, smile, and point to the board. People may stumble a bit with the positive words, but they find them.
Since I can't stand in front of contest judges or online students or most of you who are criticizing manuscripts, here are some things you might consider saying first:
The follow-on words come much easier once the one positive sentence is spoken or written. I think we all want to tell people what they did right and a help them to keep doing it. Having a starting point releases the good words and pushes the harsh editor into the background.
Now, I am not averse to telling people what needs fixing. We all need that (in consumable doses, not laundry lists). But "catching them doing something right" (advice I heard in the context of parenting) reenforces the talents and capabilities of writers. It is just as important to their growth as eliminating problems.
As an added bonus, when you learn to provide positive criticism for others, you can provide it for yourself. And that will help with your own growth as a writer.
Here's my radical statement: Every writer is good at something.
It is the job of the contest judge, mentor, crit partner, and writing buddy to find that good thing and articulate it. Not only will this make what needs to be fixed easier to hear and absorb, but it will provide real knowledge.
Many critics assume writers know what they are doing right, but that's not necessarily the case. Those editors in their heads may focus on what's totally messed up, awful, inept -- an insult. They don't have time to worry about the "good" stuff. And maybe that's true for the critics (who usually are writers, too). It makes me wonder what they tell themselves about their own writing.
When I teach a face-to-face class, the simple solution is to ask people to lead with "what worked." In fact, I usually write it in big letters on a whiteboard. When someone gets his or her turn and begins with a screed I hold my hand up, wait for silence, smile, and point to the board. People may stumble a bit with the positive words, but they find them.
Since I can't stand in front of contest judges or online students or most of you who are criticizing manuscripts, here are some things you might consider saying first:
- The beginning really hooked me.
- I love the main character.
- The voice is fresh.
- I wanted to read parts of it out loud.
- I never got confused.
- I didn't see the twist coming.
- I could see the images.
- I felt like I was in the setting.
- Great premise.
The follow-on words come much easier once the one positive sentence is spoken or written. I think we all want to tell people what they did right and a help them to keep doing it. Having a starting point releases the good words and pushes the harsh editor into the background.
Now, I am not averse to telling people what needs fixing. We all need that (in consumable doses, not laundry lists). But "catching them doing something right" (advice I heard in the context of parenting) reenforces the talents and capabilities of writers. It is just as important to their growth as eliminating problems.
As an added bonus, when you learn to provide positive criticism for others, you can provide it for yourself. And that will help with your own growth as a writer.
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Audience Again - Fast writing gold
I was chatting with my niece this weekend. She is an award-winning backyard pond designer and builder. This time of year is a tour of past accomplishments for her. Many people "improve" or neglect their ponds, and she has to bring them back to life.
She wants to write a book of dos and don'ts for them. The basic maintenance and the big mistakes to avoid. Just 30-40 pages she can put together to leave behind with clients and make available online for others who live outside her region.
Her audience is very clear in her mind -- people with the love of nature that makes them invest in ponds, but limited knowledge of how to keep these pocket ecosystems healthy.
A short book makes sense for her, and, with independent publishing and access to online book markets, creating one has become feasible. But how do you write a book if you haven't written one before? She already has the answer: audience.
She knows what they don't know and want to know. She knows the bad ideas they fall for that ruin their ponds. She hears their questions and comments every day. For a practical book, all she needs is to write down the questions and comments she hears, and then put down her answers and responses. And, since she naturally adds in specific examples of disasters, she can illustrate her information in a way that will make it come alive.
So here's the four-step formula for this kind of nonfiction book:
1 - Think of a specific client.
2 - Write down his or her questions and comments about the subject.
3 - Respond directly to these with helpful answers and suggestions using language they would understand, as if you were speaking face-to-face.
4 - If you haven't already done this, add examples that bring the points home.
That's it. The work, for someone who regularly has conversations with clients, is basically recording memories of past discussions. There's no need for prose pyrotechnics -- in fact, they are likely to get in the way.
Of course, it helps that this is a simple example with straightforward information to convey. The more demanding storytelling process is limited to the examples. But having an audience in mind provides a powerful focus for writing and discourages the kind of self-hypnosis that can bubble up as the music of the words and memories of college literature teachers takes over. You don't bring overwrought prose to people who ask you a question. You keep it simple.
Storytellers can take a lesson here. Write to one person first and keep it simple. It's harder to do this than it seems. Many writers do have an audience--themselves. For some, that's fine, but I've seen too many who forget it's about communication, who turn storytelling into exercises in impressing themselves. That never works.
Or they worry that if they pick out one person to write a story to, especially if it's a long story like a novel, they'll have to do a lot of rewriting and may even find it impossible to bring it out to a larger audience. Essentially, this is an attempt to avoid rewriting entirely. Too many writers think they can dodge all those drafts by getting it right the first time. I suspect there are rare exceptions who can do this (what an artist friend calls "freaks of nature"), but I think these writers already know they have that capability. Trying to write the salable draft in the first composition phase is a false economy.
Finally, there are those who can't find or stick to the audience. I saw this recently in a course where students were supposed to write about the experience of the story from an audience's point of view. It was a real struggle, filled with essays on the writer's intent or the main character's experiences and reactions. And even reworked attempts at doing the lesson fell away from the audience's point of view from time to time.
Putting yourself in someone else's shoes is essential to good writing. For some people, it is difficult, but, whether you write fiction or nonfiction, it is a skill worth mastering.
She wants to write a book of dos and don'ts for them. The basic maintenance and the big mistakes to avoid. Just 30-40 pages she can put together to leave behind with clients and make available online for others who live outside her region.
Her audience is very clear in her mind -- people with the love of nature that makes them invest in ponds, but limited knowledge of how to keep these pocket ecosystems healthy.
A short book makes sense for her, and, with independent publishing and access to online book markets, creating one has become feasible. But how do you write a book if you haven't written one before? She already has the answer: audience.
She knows what they don't know and want to know. She knows the bad ideas they fall for that ruin their ponds. She hears their questions and comments every day. For a practical book, all she needs is to write down the questions and comments she hears, and then put down her answers and responses. And, since she naturally adds in specific examples of disasters, she can illustrate her information in a way that will make it come alive.
So here's the four-step formula for this kind of nonfiction book:
1 - Think of a specific client.
2 - Write down his or her questions and comments about the subject.
3 - Respond directly to these with helpful answers and suggestions using language they would understand, as if you were speaking face-to-face.
4 - If you haven't already done this, add examples that bring the points home.
That's it. The work, for someone who regularly has conversations with clients, is basically recording memories of past discussions. There's no need for prose pyrotechnics -- in fact, they are likely to get in the way.
Of course, it helps that this is a simple example with straightforward information to convey. The more demanding storytelling process is limited to the examples. But having an audience in mind provides a powerful focus for writing and discourages the kind of self-hypnosis that can bubble up as the music of the words and memories of college literature teachers takes over. You don't bring overwrought prose to people who ask you a question. You keep it simple.
Storytellers can take a lesson here. Write to one person first and keep it simple. It's harder to do this than it seems. Many writers do have an audience--themselves. For some, that's fine, but I've seen too many who forget it's about communication, who turn storytelling into exercises in impressing themselves. That never works.
Or they worry that if they pick out one person to write a story to, especially if it's a long story like a novel, they'll have to do a lot of rewriting and may even find it impossible to bring it out to a larger audience. Essentially, this is an attempt to avoid rewriting entirely. Too many writers think they can dodge all those drafts by getting it right the first time. I suspect there are rare exceptions who can do this (what an artist friend calls "freaks of nature"), but I think these writers already know they have that capability. Trying to write the salable draft in the first composition phase is a false economy.
Finally, there are those who can't find or stick to the audience. I saw this recently in a course where students were supposed to write about the experience of the story from an audience's point of view. It was a real struggle, filled with essays on the writer's intent or the main character's experiences and reactions. And even reworked attempts at doing the lesson fell away from the audience's point of view from time to time.
Putting yourself in someone else's shoes is essential to good writing. For some people, it is difficult, but, whether you write fiction or nonfiction, it is a skill worth mastering.
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Irreversible Choices
As discussed last time, lots of interesting characters can be passive victims, but the hero/heroine cannot be. Your main character needs to take an active role within the story (at least in commercial fiction - with, occasionally, comedy being the exception).
The typical structure of a novel or a screenplay includes turning points. These moments need to be created by your characters through irreversible decisions.
Let's take this in two parts. First, the decision. All sorts of big and wild things can happen to your character. She can win a big lottery. Or be kidnapped. Or be elected President. Or have Mr. Right walk into her shop.
Any of these may be important to the story, but they are not, strictly, turning points. They may be catalyzing events, but none are choices by an active character. They all happen to the character.
Now, they may be the result of active choices, an accumulation of choices, and a lot of work. On the lottery, "you gotta play to win." So our heroine needs to choose buy a ticket (or accept one as a gift). Being kidnapped may be random, or it may reflect risks taken or poor security choices. If random, your character is just a victim. If lack of attention to security or active risk taking (a shortcut through a dark alley), that's a decision, with action. Being elected President involved filing the proper papers, campaigning (with numerous choices on funding, advisors, positions, etc.), and accepting a nomination.
I think a writer would need to be very creative to come up with a decision that drew Mr. Right into the shop. A Mr. Right Wanted sign in the window?
For all of these, however, the circumstances demand decision and action. Win the lottery, and you need to do something with the money and the choices (often tied to family relations) can be life-changing. Once you're kidnapped, there may be a series of life or death decisions involving cooperating, getting information out, trying to escape, and more. Even deciding to eat could be a critical decision once you're a captive.
The Presidency is all about tough decisions. The character is active and her actions have consequence. And Mr. Right? Learning about him, responding to his overtures, working through differences, choosing what to share, and answering the big question -- these are all active.
Now we come to the tougher part. The decisions at the turning points need to be irreversible. There can be no going back. If the main character can cancel the engagement or resign the Presidency and return to her old life (and these were turning point decisions), there really isn't a story.
Reversible choices with major consequences show up all the time in manuscripts I read. Someone takes a job that is horrible and doesn't move to an equivalent job, without the terrible aspects, that is available. Why? The person who entered the haunted house doesn't leave when there is nothing stopping him. The guy keeps loaning money to a friend who never pays him back so he loses his house.
In the parable of the Prodigal Son, he leaves home, spends all his money, ends up in miserable circumstances, and has the smarts to go back home. Spending his fortune is an irreversible decision. His leaving home is not. The redemption is not around returning, it's around his recognizing his foolishness. I really have high hopes for the kid. He may even reconcile with his brother.
If you step in quicksand, you may be stuck and need to do something drastic to get out. If you step in a mud puddle, you step out and clean off your shoes. Make your characters choose to step into the quicksand (to escape the lion).
And keep this in mind. Readers always know if a decision is reversible. And, as a writer, you'll lose their trust if a turning point decision leads to stress and anxiety (as it should), but is easily dodged by stepping back to the earlier situation.
The typical structure of a novel or a screenplay includes turning points. These moments need to be created by your characters through irreversible decisions.
Let's take this in two parts. First, the decision. All sorts of big and wild things can happen to your character. She can win a big lottery. Or be kidnapped. Or be elected President. Or have Mr. Right walk into her shop.
Any of these may be important to the story, but they are not, strictly, turning points. They may be catalyzing events, but none are choices by an active character. They all happen to the character.
Now, they may be the result of active choices, an accumulation of choices, and a lot of work. On the lottery, "you gotta play to win." So our heroine needs to choose buy a ticket (or accept one as a gift). Being kidnapped may be random, or it may reflect risks taken or poor security choices. If random, your character is just a victim. If lack of attention to security or active risk taking (a shortcut through a dark alley), that's a decision, with action. Being elected President involved filing the proper papers, campaigning (with numerous choices on funding, advisors, positions, etc.), and accepting a nomination.
I think a writer would need to be very creative to come up with a decision that drew Mr. Right into the shop. A Mr. Right Wanted sign in the window?
For all of these, however, the circumstances demand decision and action. Win the lottery, and you need to do something with the money and the choices (often tied to family relations) can be life-changing. Once you're kidnapped, there may be a series of life or death decisions involving cooperating, getting information out, trying to escape, and more. Even deciding to eat could be a critical decision once you're a captive.
The Presidency is all about tough decisions. The character is active and her actions have consequence. And Mr. Right? Learning about him, responding to his overtures, working through differences, choosing what to share, and answering the big question -- these are all active.
Now we come to the tougher part. The decisions at the turning points need to be irreversible. There can be no going back. If the main character can cancel the engagement or resign the Presidency and return to her old life (and these were turning point decisions), there really isn't a story.
Reversible choices with major consequences show up all the time in manuscripts I read. Someone takes a job that is horrible and doesn't move to an equivalent job, without the terrible aspects, that is available. Why? The person who entered the haunted house doesn't leave when there is nothing stopping him. The guy keeps loaning money to a friend who never pays him back so he loses his house.
In the parable of the Prodigal Son, he leaves home, spends all his money, ends up in miserable circumstances, and has the smarts to go back home. Spending his fortune is an irreversible decision. His leaving home is not. The redemption is not around returning, it's around his recognizing his foolishness. I really have high hopes for the kid. He may even reconcile with his brother.
If you step in quicksand, you may be stuck and need to do something drastic to get out. If you step in a mud puddle, you step out and clean off your shoes. Make your characters choose to step into the quicksand (to escape the lion).
And keep this in mind. Readers always know if a decision is reversible. And, as a writer, you'll lose their trust if a turning point decision leads to stress and anxiety (as it should), but is easily dodged by stepping back to the earlier situation.
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
50 Shades of Passive - Give your protagonist a FATAL flaw
A simple victim makes a lousy hero/heroine for a commercial work of fiction. It is okay for horrible things to happen to your protagonist. In fact, they should. But the character must have the ability to fight back and must do so.
I'm teaching a course right now, and we are hitting this as a real limit for the stories. being naive, biddable, or gullible can certainly be flaws in a character, but they don't work well as the fatal flaw. Ignorance can kill you, but, if that is all the protagonist needs to overcome to success, you don't have much of a story. The story problem can be solved with a clear conversation (something that actually wrecks the logic of some romance stories that could be better) or the person doesn't have the intellectual capabilities to absorb and understand the critical knowledge. In real life, the latter can be a cause for compassion and care. In a novel, this make for a protagonist who is Too Stupid To Live (TSTL).
Unless... a deeper flaw is blinding the main character to the evidence that is right in front of his or her face. Pride makes it impossible for the protagonist to believe he or she needs help in slaying the monster. Or Lust causes the main character to behave badly with the person who is potentially the true love of his/her life. Or Sloth makes the whole process of putting together the facts and formulating an effective plan too hard. It's easier to do what the leader demands.
Obsessions and blindness can make a simple victim into a complex one, with the real potential for success. Working on the sin (try one of the Seven Deadly Sins) is a good active stand-in for working directly on a problem that could be solved easily with insight. ("Now those magic slippers will take you home in two seconds.")
So, look for a fatal flaw in your hero or heroine, and dare to make it a big one. Like one of the Deadly Sins. That will lead to all sorts of wonderful troubles without making your protagonist into a doormat.
I'm teaching a course right now, and we are hitting this as a real limit for the stories. being naive, biddable, or gullible can certainly be flaws in a character, but they don't work well as the fatal flaw. Ignorance can kill you, but, if that is all the protagonist needs to overcome to success, you don't have much of a story. The story problem can be solved with a clear conversation (something that actually wrecks the logic of some romance stories that could be better) or the person doesn't have the intellectual capabilities to absorb and understand the critical knowledge. In real life, the latter can be a cause for compassion and care. In a novel, this make for a protagonist who is Too Stupid To Live (TSTL).
Unless... a deeper flaw is blinding the main character to the evidence that is right in front of his or her face. Pride makes it impossible for the protagonist to believe he or she needs help in slaying the monster. Or Lust causes the main character to behave badly with the person who is potentially the true love of his/her life. Or Sloth makes the whole process of putting together the facts and formulating an effective plan too hard. It's easier to do what the leader demands.
Obsessions and blindness can make a simple victim into a complex one, with the real potential for success. Working on the sin (try one of the Seven Deadly Sins) is a good active stand-in for working directly on a problem that could be solved easily with insight. ("Now those magic slippers will take you home in two seconds.")
So, look for a fatal flaw in your hero or heroine, and dare to make it a big one. Like one of the Deadly Sins. That will lead to all sorts of wonderful troubles without making your protagonist into a doormat.
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