Showing posts with label storytelling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label storytelling. Show all posts

Friday, October 12, 2012

The Gift of a Writer's Eye

Photo: sxc.hu
I came across the following story in an old Highlights Foundation publication squirreled away in my files from way back in 1996 and, I think, worthy of sharing. It's a quote from Patricia Broderick. It goes like this:

"...I submit to you that writers see differently. They see the everyday world differently than do others...This is a story from the Chicago Daily News:

I've heard of the problems newly retired men and their wives face when confronted by too much togetherness, and I was always amused at the way they so often get on with each other's nerves. I never thought I'd face such a problem, but it's been two months now and matters around here are pretty bad. I ran out of patience that first Monday. There we were, the two of us. Dave busied himself by following me around, inquiring into my household routines. I tried to be pleasant, but my surly nature surfaced when he asked, 'Why don't you vacuum all the way under the bed?'

I've tried to interest him in any number of activities with little success. I've even shouted the merits of daytime TV. 'What you really need is a job,' I told him, knowing he'd never be able to find one at his age. Yesterday was typical. Dave and I spent the morning together as always now. He sat looking out the window for a while, sighing intermittently. Then he came into the kitchen. 'What are we having for lunch?' he wanted to know. This was at 8:30. We went lockstep to the bedrooms, where he watched me make the beds. To his query, 'What should we do now?' I snarled, 'How about a duel with sabers?' A lengthy discussion followed of my system of sorting wash. I don't like to sort wash, much less talk about it. The situation is getting to me. You'd think someone with so much intelligence, someone I truly love, would not be so totally annoying when faced with a change in routine. Oh, well, my problem won't last forever. Next fall Dave will be in kindergarten.

"My wish for each of you is that you view the world with the gift of a writer's eye every day of your life."--Patricia Broderick

Have a great weekend! May we all nurture the gift of the writer's eye as we go...

p.s. Speaking of viewing the world with the gift of a writer's eye, here's a link to a great writing opportunity. Ladies' Home Journal is sponsoring a Personal Essay Contest (here), "Tell Us About The Day That Changed Your Life." They say, "Ladies' Home Journal is a community that shares stories--and we're dying to hear yours. For our second annual Personal Essay Contest, we want to hear about a memorable moment in your life--the day, or the hour, or the second that changed everything. We urge you to be poignant, reflective, funny. Make us howl with laughter. Make us blubber in our cubicles (we can take it!)." Top prize is $3000 and the chance to have your essay published in the Journal. Deadline: Dec. 7, 2012.

(Thanks to my friend Lanita who passed this along.)
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Thursday, January 12, 2012

On Logos, Arrows, and Storytelling

"Storytelling reveals meaning without committing the error of defining it." --Hannah Arendt

We can blame my brother for sending me off on this tangent--but I'm glad he did. You see, he's the one that mentioned it first.

"Have you ever seen the arrow in the FedEx logo?" he asked. And that's when the adventure began.

We had never heard of the arrow. Have you? When we first looked for it, as we'd be out on the road somewhere and pass a FedEx truck, we'd ask each other--hubby and I--where is there an arrow? What's he talking about? I don't see any arrow. We looked every which way but up--on the truck, on the letters, around the letters. Nothing.

But. Then. We. Saw. It. Embedded as it is between the capital E of "Ex" and the smaller case x. I immediately texted my brother: "We saw the arrow!" We were on I-75 south heading toward Cincinnati at the time.

Again, did you know about this? Wouldn't we feel silly if everyone else but us knows it's there?

Anyway, the idea sent me off to explore if this optical illusion if you will was intentional in the design or just a fluke. It was intentional and it isn't a fluke.

The creator of the logo is a man named Lindon Leader. In an interview with Mr. Leader (you can read the interview here), he describes how he designed the logo, even to the point of developing a new font in order to make the arrow fit. "I thought," he said, "that if I could develop this concept of an arrow it could be promoted as a symbol for speed and precision, both FedEx communicative attributes...The power of the hidden arrow is simply that is a hidden bonus."

And that got me thinking about embeddedness (is that a real word?)  in our stories. What hidden elements help communicate our purpose, our stories? I suggest these five:

1. Embedded Theme. "By its nature, theme can't be obvious. At best it's open for interpretation, thought, and discussion, an echo left to resonate long after the book itself is read. We can't present theme directly. Sometimes we have trouble grasping it ourselves." This gem comes from Martina Boone over at Adventures in YA and Children's Publishing (here).

2. Embedded Symbolism. "Symbolism," says Stephen King in On Writing, "(is) more than just chrome on the grille. It can serve as a focusing device for both you and your reader, helping to create a more unified and pleasing work. I think that, when you read you mss over, you'll see if symbolism, or the potential for it, exists. If it doesn't, leave well enough alone. If it does, however--if it's clearly a part of the fossil you're working to unearth--go for it. Enhance it."

3. Embedded Story Question. Ann Whitford Paul, in Writing Picture Books, suggests the importance of finding your story's question. "It behooves writers to think of a general question about the underlying issue they are trying to unravel in each new story...it is critical each story has a question. If not, the story probably will not be focused. Discovering your question will keep your story moving in the right direction."

4. Embedded Ending in the Beginning. A personal favorite of mine, as I try to bring this around in my stories. The idea is stated in Leonard Bishop's Dare to be a Great Writer, 329 Keys to Powerful Fiction. "Somewhere in the opening of the novel the writer should include a suggestion of the conclusion. Readers will not recognize the 'end-in-the-beginning.' How can they? But when they reach the novel's conclusion--no matter how many side journeys you have led them along--they will feel a sense of completion to the novel...If you do not know the conclusion of the novel, begin writing anyway. When you reach the end you can include some of it in the opening by rewriting. The end is already there, but it all starts from the beginning."

5. Embedded Hope. I like this concept, too, which comes from Steven Taylor Goldsberry's The Writer's Book of Wisdom, 101 Rules for Mastering Your Craft. "You can write about blood and fire, human bodies scorched like forgotten cookies, about misery, torture (etc. etc.)...But in the end there must be a glimpse of gold, the first bright feather of a rare bird reborn from the ashes of a mythical bonfire. One of the great traditions of art is that it provides hope...Make your audience gasp at suspenseful or wondrous adventures, but get them home safely. Let them breathe easy once more."

I debated whether or not to reveal the arrow, in case this is the first some of you have heard of it, and maybe you'd like to find it on your own. But like they say, once you've found it, you'll probably never "not" be able to see it again--it will pop out at you every time. And it's stuck in my head now, so I guess I'll spoil it for you. Here's the arrow.

Any "obvious but hidden" things you seek to include in your stories?

(Disclaimer: I do not, nor have I ever worked for FedEx. This is not a paid advertisement!)
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Sunday, September 19, 2010

Storytelling Wisdom

"Literature was not born the day a boy crying "wolf, wolf" came running out of the Neanderthal valley with a big gray wolf at his heels: Literature was born on the day a boy came crying "wolf, wolf," and there was no wolf behind him." --Vladimir Nabokov

There are no wolves where I am this weekend (at least I hope not)--but I thought I'd take a moment to share this tidbit of wisdom as we consider the stories we'll be working on this upcoming week. Have a good one! 

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Suspense in the Night

"If you want to hold your readers, give them something to worry about." --Ayn Rand

One of the highlights of our recent trip (next to seeing the new grandbaby, of course!) was a hike in the Claremont Hills Wilderness Park in the foothills of California's San Gabriel Mountains. There were five of us adults and baby Nicholas snuggled securely in his mommy's carrier-wrap.

The climb was moderate at first, but soon twists, turns, and sharp drop-offs made things more complicated. Still, we were having fun. Other hikers greeted us, joggers nodded, and those with dogs on leashes peeked over at the sleeping baby.

After a time, though, conflict arose. Trail signs proved confusing. The "loop" we thought we were on never looped back. Did we miss the turn? How much farther should we go? How long before nightfall?

And then the baby cried.

In the diminished evening light, it became more and more difficult to see things: dog doo-doo, ankle-twisting ruts, how close we were to the edge. Fewer travelers passed by. The bushes rustled with the sounds of unknown animals. A supplemental bottle for hungry baby emptied all too quickly.

Subplot: a man going up the mountain pushed a stroller, young child strapped in. Where in the world was he going in the quickening darkness?

Crisis. Baby's needs could no longer be ignored--but there was no place along the way to stop. Alone on the mountain, there was only one way out--and that was to keep walking. With the night's curtain dropping lower and lower, Mommy Suzan nursed baby as she cautiously stepped along on the shadowy trail.

Resolution? All downhill from there! We finally emerged in a parking lot bathed in moonlight.

Several vital elements in a good story--complications, conflict, subplot, crisis, resolution--entered into our hike that night. For us, it was suspenseful to say the least!

Suspense, says Tina Morgan at Fiction Factor, is one of the most crucial ingredients in our books. "Without it, there is no reason to continue reading or to continue watching a movie or play." And suspense is vital, she adds, to all genres.

Ironically, my "fun" reading on the plane both coming and going were books by Mary Higgins Clark--an author billed as the "Queen of Suspense."

Suspense. In our hike, it led to a memory that will go down in family archives. In stories, it's what keeps readers reading. How important is suspense to you?