It’s Not About The Monster

by Christina Lay

It’s Not About the Monster

Beware of the stories you read or tell; subtly, at night, beneath the waters of consciousness, they are altering your world. -Ben Okri, poet and novelist (b. 15 Mar 1959)

I just finished writing an entirely different post about the TV Show Stranger Things. Then, after walking away from the computer, it occurred to me that I hadn’t said a single thing about the flashy bits. You know, the monster, the cool other dimension, the ick and awe factor, the “strange things”.

Spoiler Alert – If you haven’t watched Season One yet, you might not want to read this

If you don’t know, Stranger Things is an Amazon original series that I would put in the genre of “Cozy Horror”. It is cozy because our favorite characters tend not to die, and good triumphs over evil, eventually. However, people do die, either at the hands of a rogue government entity or at the ick-dripping talons of the monster.

However, it doesn’t really matter how they die or who/what is chasing our heroes around. The source of The Horror could just as well be an infestation of pissed-off dragons, or powerful magic gone awry, or a swarm of giant ants, or an out of control disease. Personally I prefer monsters. What is important in a show like this is the characters, and how they react to The Horror.

In the first post I wrote, I discussed how we as writers might make up for the fact that we don’t have a three-dimensional Winona Ryder who will leap out of the page and bring our brilliant prose to life for the reader. I’m full of admiration for Winona’s skill and her excellent job of bringing Joyce Byers, the distraught mother in Stranger Things, to life. She is a lot of what makes this show so compelling. So as writers stuck with mere words, we can focus on character development, adding layers and depth to our characters by giving them everything from quirks, gestures, odd habits and facial tics to long and murky histories, skewed motivations, poor coping skills and a smorgasbord of emotions that may or may not control their actions. Winona and the true-to-trope hard drinking sheriff with a murky history, skewed motivations and poor coping skills get most of the action, character-development wise. The true-to-trope gang of nerdy and plucky kids are all great, as is “The Chosen One” with the powerful magic gone awry. A couple side characters like the Princess and The Loner/Outsider have some good moments, and even the good-looking Jock/Jerk gets a shot at redemption. They’re all interesting in their way, adding to the fun by roping us in with their charm.

But it’s Winona as the mom and David Harbour as Chief Hopper who really get to face The Horror, which is what this show, and most stories like it, are all about. In facing The Horror, a character is either destroyed or they prevail. There are so many ways either can happen. One, they can get their head ripped off. That is the ultimate failure. But they can also fail to face their fear, they might run away, they might turn their backs on their friends, they might join the enemy, they might deny the existence of the Horror until it shows up and rips their head off. They might choose to destroy themselves, with alcohol or a supremely reckless act, all the while denying those repressed emotions that are controlling them. The sheriff is drinking and denying in order not to face the emotional truth of having lost a child. The mother, on the other hand, steamrollers her many flaws and actually utilizes them in a supreme effort to save her child. Sometimes, it is an asset to be slightly crazy.

To prevail, one must survive the season (or the novel). Beyond that, the hero must grow, realize her own strengths, identify what is most important, listen to her instincts and intuitions, trust in her allies if they exist, overcome all those cleverly developed character flaws, and defeat the monster. At least for now.

Some viewers might disagree, but I believe this is the key to a successful show, not the cleverness or wow factor of The Horror. Don’t get me wrong, I think the monster in Stranger Things is cool. The Upside Down is a creepy and clever concept that they do well. But it would all put me to sleep if it weren’t for the people who are dealing with, reacting to, dying in the face of, and kicking the ass of The Horror. If those people are one-dimensional, shallow, too true-to-trope to swallow, or just flat out dull, no amount of pyrotechnic evil wizardry is going to keep me tuning in.

This brings us to the question of why we do this to ourselves. Why do we like to watch clever, likable, heroic characters be tortured and tested in this way? I think the answer is pretty simple, and it’s why we tell stories at all. We all have a Horror in our life, maybe several. Maybe they’re small horrors, but the world is full of big horrors and it takes very little imagination to conceive of The Horror being visited upon ourselves. A cozy horror TV show like Stranger Things allows to process some of that pent up fear, and it lets us watch “ordinary” characters take the bull by the horns and defeat The Horror. Yes, it is cathartic, and it is just scary enough to let off some of scream steam and, possibly, allow us embrace the happy for now ending and the hope that good not only can but will triumph over evil.

Now Non-cozy Horror, where everyone dies? I don’t know what’s up with that. Liz?






Reconciling Fiction Techniques in Memoir


Reconciling Fiction Techniques in Memoir, by Eric Witchey

Something new for my blog this time. Instead of waxing dreary on some topic of my own choosing, I’m answering a question from a person who took a class from me at the Write on the Sound Conference in Edmonds, Washington. The last time I was there, I taught a class that included a brief discussion of a concept I first presented in an article for The Writer Magazine in October of 2011. The concept is the Irreconcilable Self (I.S.).

The writer, a memoirist, dropped me a line last week. The question has two parts. The first part is whether the I.S. the writer is working with is precise enough. The second question is more of a presupposition about whether the I.S. tool can be used in memoire. Also, note that the writer used Wallace Stegner’s book, Angle of Repose, as a reference point. It has been a long time since I read it, so my examples from memory may or may not fit the experience of people who have read it more recently. I did not go back and check the book to verify my memory, which is a swiss cheese muddle of too many stories that often blend together.

The Question:

I’m presuming that the I.S. can apply to a memoir ‘character’ since I’m treating myself as the character? Good. So then, my opposing conflicts of ideals are — ideal notions of country/”smaller” living and (true) community not a neighborhood VERSUS ‘freedom’ of city life and anonymity.

My questions — is that SPECIFIC enough?? Or is it too linked to place and time? Do I need more soul-searching to really get at stronger conflicting notions here? I am conflicted in the idolization of country living vs the reality and want to expose that a little more via my experience, but also have notions and real experiences of longing for that country living.

The Answer:

Hi, again, Writer X:

First, I’ll be teaching an 8 hour seminar on this subject in Eugene, OR in May. I have a couple of memoirists already signed up. You don’t have to sign up for all six classes. You can just take this one alone, but I would recommend this one and the one in June for a full sense of how I.S. works in conjunction with other story elements. The people at WordCrafters can help with accommodations. The classes are set up so people can drive or fly in on Saturday and drive or fly out on Sunday. Anyway, here’s the link.

Second, I always welcome “one-off” emails, but I can’t always answer them. Also, I’ll only answer one or two before I send you a contract to set up a formal relationship as a sort of piano teacher of words. Too many people think of me as a private encyclopedia of writing techniques if I let them, and I do have to fulfill my own obligations in life.

So, no worries. I’m especially happy to hear from people who have read my stories and taken one or more of my classes.

Interesting that you mention The Angle of Repose. Not many writers who contact me have read it. Stegner is brilliant. Before I talk about that, I’ll talk a bit about Irreconcilable Self.

When I teach I.S., especially in a short form venue like a conference (60 to 90 minutes, total), I teach it as a binary form to get the idea across. It can be more complex. The form I teach has two parts and relies on “I believe” statements in juxtaposition—something like this:

“I believe Romantic idealism is the only truth in this world.” Vs. “I believe deeply in personal honor and family honor and pride.”

This would be Romeo.

Notice that I have already put in more than one thing in the second “I believe” statement. The juxtaposition of these deeply held, untested beliefs is what’s important. The beliefs are deep and often, but not always, unconscious. They are, however, untested. The only way the character is able to believe both things at the same time is that the beliefs have not been tested in his or her life.

That’s the short version of I.S.

Now, Stegner. Keep in mind that Stegner is telling several stories. Lyman is narrating. He’s telling both his story and the story of Susan. Susan’s story includes the story of Oliver and Frank. Each of these major characters has an I.S. that generally functions beneath their consciousness and either drives or allows them to act in the ways they do. Each character has their beliefs tested. Lyman’s is tested by the telling of the story and the revelations that come because of that. His I.S. is something like, “I believe I am a good man from good stock” vs. “I believe the world and my family owe me for their betrayals.” His I.S. is tested by revelations and experience. He abandons the second belief, modifies the first one, and reconciles his experience into, “My choices create the love around me.”

Okay, I’m making this up on the fly, so don’t expect “correct” summary descriptions of a novel I read a long time ago. I’m just trying to give an example that might be useful for you.

Frank can’t reconcile his beliefs. He kills himself. That’s, more-or-less, the definition of tragedy. I’d say his belief was something like, “I believe I’m a good and loyal friend” vs. “I believe I love Susan beyond life itself.” Yeah, that doesn’t work out for him. If memory serves, he kills himself.

Oliver is something like, “I believe I’m an honorable, educated, man worthy of love and loyalty” vs. “I believe one more shovel full of dirt and I’ll strike it rich and save everyone around me.” Or, maybe, “I believe I’m a good husband and hard worker” vs. “I believe my worth is determined by the success of my next project.” I’d have to go back and reread it to do better.

Now, Susan, who is probably the most interesting character in the whole nested story mess, appears to be dragged through events, but she really isn’t. She’s just more subtle. Her I.S. is something like, “I believe in the trendy, romantic idealization of love and the West” vs. “I believe in family values and am a good wife and mother.”

The end position for a character who has resolved their I.S. (transformed) is one of the following:

  1. Experiences force the character to reject both beliefs and die (Frank). I might also argue that Oliver ends up in this position, but he dies emotionally and spiritually.
  2. Experiences force the character to reject both beliefs, but they find a new belief on which to base life choices and actions (Lyman).
  3. Experiences force the character to reject one belief and embrace the other (Susan).
  4. Experiences force the character to find a way to reconcile the two beliefs and live on in harmony with both (Nobody in that story).

Okay, on to memoir.

The chief problem I see when memoirists approach the use of fiction techniques in telling their stories is that they have difficulty stepping back to examine themselves for the underlying psychological, philosophical, and sociological understanding that fiction writers apply when working with made up characters. Finding your own I.S. is like trying to grab your shoelaces and lift yourself up so you can reach a book on the highest shelf. Even if you succeed in violating the laws of physics, you can’t let go of your shoelaces to reach for the book.

The various successful memoirists I have worked with have had to do extensive work in separating themselves from the character who represents them in the story. It’s much harder than making someone up from scratch, but the techniques are the same. For Memoirists, the trick is to do a lot of work figuring out what the core significance of the experience was both for the writer and for the reader. Sometimes, a very clear statement of the experiencing character’s main transformation will allow you to work backward into the land of unconsidered beliefs. Sometimes, deciding to assign an I.S. and then attempting to cause the story to conform to that I.S. will result in either success or failures that provide insights into what was really going on deeper down during the experience.

Regardless, one of the tasks the memoirist must always remember is that no matter what they think the experience meant to them, the end result is only useful if the reading experience means something to the reader. Those two positions are not in any way connected except through craft. Sometimes, they are two completely different meaning results.

I haven’t read your story, and I don’t know enough about it to name the I.S. for you. Frankly, that’s probably a bad idea anyway. However, I can say that once you know it, it is only one of three core control structures I teach. The other two are “arc” and “premise.”

That said, here’s how you described your I.S.: “opposing conflicts of ideals are — ideal notions of country/”smaller” living and (true) community not a neighborhood VERSUS ‘freedom’ of city life and anonymity

The description you provided could be translated into I.S. form like this:

I.S.: “I believe I will only be whole if I am a known, respected member of a small, rural community.” Vs. “I believe only the anonymity of city life will let me fully express who I am.”

Do keep in mind that at story open the character rarely knows they believe both things. Given the above I.S., I can certainly see how a story that demonstrates this conflict of values and transformation of a person could be told. I can’t, however, really speak to how your character and your character context will manifest these belief systems on the dialectic, tactical, conflict set, scene, sequence, or movement dramatic levels. I think that’s where you’re getting stuck. You have an I.S., but the translation of it into increments of stress and change caused by experience isn’t taking your story “from-to” in a way that feels both true and satisfying to you on the I.S. level. For that kind of analysis, I’d also need the premise, arc, and a synoptic outline that captures emotional change resulting from the conflict for each dramatic scene.

I don’t have time or space to do a full exposition of these ideas here, but I can say that by using the control concepts of arc, premise, and I.S., it is possible to analyze the story along the conceptual boundaries readers use to internalize emotions while reading. Subconsciously, readers look for moments of emotional change. In fact, physiologically, they respond to those moments before they have time to think about them. The speed of emotional response overriding the speed of cognitive response is one of the things that keeps readers in the story. Being able to name the I.S., being able to see how each moment of the story either stresses the character’s belief system or confirms it (which is another kind of stress since things will get worse because of confirmations), being able to incrementally move the stress levels toward a personal, emotional/psychological crisis in which the character experiences one of the reconciliation results described above, and being able to deliver the emotional power of that moment of transformation to the reader in a context that allows the reader to FEEL its value to them is, at core, what all story telling is about.

I’m sorry I can’t provide more insight than this. The woods are lovely, dark, and deep and…

Best of luck and skill to you.



For the love of…

By Cheryl Owen-Wilson

I thought it appropriate to discuss the topic of love in this month of February, a month where you can’t escape the concept of it, no matter how hard you might try.

I have yet to meet a writer who hasn’t used a writing prompt. Thus my title—For the love of…and is it any wonder that the topic of love, is written about and published more than any other genre given its many variations?

Let’s look at a few—For the love of…a spouse, a child, a parent, a friend, the job, money, yourself, a worthy humanitarian cause; anger (yes one can fall in love with one’s anger). For this particular writing prompt the list is literally endless. We have at our fingertips a menagerie of topics to explore and write about.

However, as I shared in an earlier blog, when I personally attempt to write about romantic love, someone always has to die. Yes, no matter how many times I’ve tried there is never a happily ever after for my lovelorn characters. I must insert here, for those who don’t know me personally, this is not the case in my own life. In my own life, I’ve been happily married for 28 years. Okay, there were rocky times, how could there not be with eight children (big surprise—this is the love I mainly focus on in my fictional and memoir writing—a mother’s love, or lack there of), two parents working full time, and no “Alice” to have meals prepared at the end of the day (for you youngsters Google “The Brady Bunch”)? But isn’t that what true love is? In going through the gauntlet, aren’t you supposed to find the “Holy Grail” at the end?  Well, at any rate, the happy survival of a long-term marriage is just one of the many scenarios of this thing called, love.

I also use prompts when looking for new painting ideas. Here are the results of the, For the Love of…paintings. One of them even elicited a poem.


For the Love of a Cold Heart

“Ice Heart” and Original Painting by Cheryl Owen-Wilson



For the Love of the Universe

“Cosmic Heart” and Original Painting by Cheryl Owen-Wilson



For the Love of Clouds

“Heart Sylphs” and Original Painting by Cheryl Owen-Wilson



For the Love of a Music Continue reading

How a Writer Might Live Forever

By Cynthia Ray

The world is fascinated with creativity and how it works, perhaps because it has an almost magical quality to it, where ideas and inspiration seem to arise out of nowhere.  Science continues to study, research and even map the brains of creative people, uncovering new and amazing things about creative expression.

Research has validated what many cultures throughout time have known, that creative expression can make a powerful contribution to health, well-being and healing.

That making art and participating in creative endeavors, whether it is photography, collage, music, dancing, painting or writing has mental and physical health benefits is now accepted as a scientific realty.  Creating art and music enhances health and wellness, and specifically, expressive writing is linked with improved immune system response.


One does not have to be especially creative or artistic to reap the benefits.  Anyone can journal.  Writing is an excellent choice because it doesn’t require any special equipment to begin, all you have to do is open the computer, or pick up a pen and piece of paper and let it flow.

In addition to positive changes in our mental and emotional states, creative expression and expressive writing effect actual physical changes in the body, enhancing immune response and speeding healing from trauma and injury.

This excert from an article titled Make More Art-the Health Benefits of Creativity illustrates the effect.

“The act of writing actually impacted the cells inside the patient’s body and improved their immune system. In other words, the process of creating art doesn’t just make you feel better, it also creates real, physical changes inside your body.”

Another scholarly article documents how one experiment with expressive writing worked, and the amazing positive results.

“The researcher had students write about their deepest thoughts and feelings on an important emotional issue, with the only rule being that “once you begin writing, continue to do so until your [15- to 30-minute] time is up.”  Dozens of replications of these types of studies have demonstrated that emotional writing can influence frequency of physician visits, immune function, stress hormones, blood pressure, and a number of social, academic, and cognitive variables. These effects have been shown to hold across cultures, age groups, and diverse samples.

There are only a few examples, and here a couple of additional articles to puruse if you are interested in learning more about Writing to Heal and the health benefits of expressive writing.

Since I work in healthcare, I receive notifications of interesting health topics almost daily, and last week, I was sent a link to a study where researchers identified the top 10 things that contribute to an individuals likelihood to live longer.  They were surprised to discover that the top two contributors to reduced mortality were having a close friend or person upon whom you could rely, and talk to, and connection with others in a real way. the NY times article says:

“In a study of 7,000 men and women in Alameda County, Calif., begun in 1965, Lisa F. Berkman and S. Leonard Syme found that “people who were disconnected from others were roughly three times more likely to die during the nine-year study than people with strong social ties,” John Robbins recounted in his marvelous book on health and longevity, “Healthy at 100.”

This major difference in survival occurred regardless of people’s age, gender, health practices or physical health status. In fact, the researchers found that “those with close social ties and unhealthful lifestyles (such as smoking, obesity and lack of exercise) actually lived longer than those with poor social ties but more healthful living habits,” Mr. Robbins wrote. However, he quickly added, “Needless to say, people with both healthful lifestyles and close social ties lived the longest of all.”

 Writing is magic, and so is loving connection-the combination is potent.  My take away is this:  Writers could live almost forever if they spend part of the day writing, and the other part connecting with real live humans.

writing quote


Waiting for Inspiration

By Elizabeth Engstrom

So here I sit, facing the blank page again.

The house is quiet, I’ve had enough coffee, I’m sick of social media. I am ready to write.

But what shall I write? Shall I tune up—yet again—that old broken short story that I’ve messed with for years? Shall I pull from the trash that old novel that I have pulled from the trash several times already and work on it? (Seriously. It’s back in the office closet. It needs to be in the trash.)

Or should I imagine something new, something fresh?  Yes, that’s it. That’s what I’ll do.

But what?

I know what. It’s what I always do, and it works.



Most people will go to the garden, or take a walk, or bake something, or worse, turn on daytime television. Inspiration will rarely come to you when you’re doing something other than sitting at the keyboard. Occasionally, I’ll get inspiration in the shower or on a walk, but that almost always involves a work in progress that has hit a snag.

For the fresh idea, I have to be sitting here, right here, ready to go.

And if nothing comes, if nothing in the past few days has piqued my interest sufficiently, then I begin my 10-minute free writing exercise. Timed. Internal editor off.  I just write whatever comes into my head and through my fingers to the keyboard. Most times it’s drivel. Sometimes there comes a germ of an idea.

At the end of the ten minutes, I stop, take a sip of coffee, read the crap I’ve written and see if there’s a thread there that could be pulled up. Sometimes no, but most times yes. And then I proceed, internal editor activated as usual.

Do these things always end up as stellar short stories or novel-length work that can take up to a year of my life? No. But it keeps the writing and imagination machinery greased and working. And keeping the skills alive is  mandatory.

Not everything I write is publishable—far from it—but if the ratio is 90%/10%, then I best be getting on with that 90% of unpublishable stuff so I can get to the good stuff.

I get up in the morning, and I go to work, like everybody else. I don’t wait for inspiration.  I can’t afford to.

Sometimes I have to go hunt it down.

Deadline Heaven and Life Management Skills Hell

heaven-or-hellBy Lisa Alber

Our fantastic webmistress of the ShadowSpinners world, Christina, sent me a nice email just now pointing out that yesterday makes twice in a row that I’ve missed a blogging deadline. The funny thing about deadlines is that I’m quite good at making them.

So, what’s my excuse this time? Why am I preoccupied enough that this blog has slipped my mind?

The answer is—deadlines! Yep. Coupled with a tendency to be chaotic. In December, I spaced out about this blog because I was feverishly finishing up my Labyrinth of Souls (yay!) novel for a December 31st deadline. So excited about it—can’t wait to tell you more. That and holiday stuff and regular work deadlines were enough to put me under.

And this month? A Feb 1st deadline for a short story that will appear in an anthology in about a year. You’d think a short story wouldn’t be that big a deal, but they are for me since I don’t write them that often. That coupled with my usual seasonal affective disorder and even more regular work deadlines was enough for this month.

However, since I have a new day planner for 2018, I’m going to write down a standing reminder for the first of each month: Check Shadowspinners blog posting deadline. Doing it now … Did it!

Despite not being up on everything in my life—for example, my garage door broke over a month ago; just got it fixed yesterday—I’ve been in heaven with these deadlines. I have a sense of purpose in life anyhow, but deadlines give the purpose a nice ooomph. I like that, especially when I’m having so much fun with the writing projects. Both the LoS novel and the short story were a blast to write because they were outside my usual voice and story space.

Now I’ll be returning to my regularly scheduled writing project: the next mystery, a standalone set in California in a genre I’m calling “California gothic.” I can relax a bit with this one, but the truth is that there’s always something to cause static, isn’t there? This month it will include money stuff because my wee dog Fawnie needs double knee surgery (poor thing!) and that’s expensive. So I’ll be working more than ever.

<shrug, that’s life>

One of my goals for 2018 is to minimize static and chaos. That sense of not being able to keep up, of having life itself feel too complicated and rushed all the time. It’s an ongoing process of improvement, for sure. Here are my top four strategies, for the moment, subject to change:

  1. Less social media. Social media increases static, wastes times, and distracts. Enough said.
  2. Write things down. Said day planner – yes, actually use it in a proactive way. Chunk out sub-tasks so things don’t feel so big. At the end of the day, give it a look to see where I am and plan for the next day. This it time management 101 stuff, but I’ve always gone by the seat of my pants and kept things in my head—which increases static big time. Writing it down releases it.
  3. Embrace a few routines and rituals. I’m not into routines or rituals—I tend to free-wheel it through life. I get bored and restless. I need variety and to change it up. That said, a few small routines could help streamline my life. For example, readying the coffee, food, clothes, etcetera, for the next day before I go to bed. That way, I’m not muttering around in daze when I could be getting straight to the writing.
  4. If it’s a little task, like sending an email, just get it done then.

You’d think I haven’t been functioning well as an adult for eh-hem number of years. I have to accept the fact that I’m getting older and can’t keep everything in my head anymore, plus life is that much more complicated these days. What’s “normal” is ever a-changing!

What strategies do you employ to lessen static and chaos in your life?

Reader Experience of Character


The Instructor during A Relaxed Fiction Fluency Seminar Moment (Source: MK Martin.)

Reader Experience of Character; by Eric Witchey

First, an apology. I’ve been very busy working on consulting work and preparing a couple of classes, so I’m late on my volunteer, shared blogging commitment. Mea Culpa. To rectify that, I’m offering a few thoughts from the first class of a six month series I’ll be doing for WordCrafters in Eugene. A link to the class appears at the end of this little essay. The classes can be taken as stand-alone classes or as a coherent series at a discount. Regardless, they will be fun and applicable to both long and short form fiction.

Now, on to a few character concepts to consider. This is, essentially, the introduction to the first class and an invitation to join us.


Character exists in the mind/heart of the reader. Given the same text, no two readers have exactly the same character in their mind/heart. Reader perception of character is made of up of 1/3 literal text, 1/3 implication, and 1/3 projection. Once the reader has internalized an understanding of the interaction of the thirds, the writer violates the reader’s perceptions at great risk of losing the reader. I’m not saying it can’t be done to good effect. I’m saying it is rare, risky, and should only be done intentionally or if the writer believes they are a god of luck.

Figure 1 shows the components that the reader combines to create their experience of character/story: Text, Implication, and Projection.

VennImpProjTextFigure 1: The Reader Creates Character in Their Mind/Heart through Interaction of Three Mechanisms

While the reader derives their perception of character from the above mechanisms, the internalized construct that is the imagined character in their minds can be described as a different three part construct.

Thanks go out to James N. Frey for first introducing me to this consideration of character aspects.

From text, implication, and projection, the reader builds up an aggregation of beliefs about the character’s psychology, sociology, and physiology. Each of these is equal in weight in terms of interaction with one another and impact on the reader’s experience of the character.

Even though the text may not present them as equal by offering each equal real estate, the mind/heart of the reader will create the missing bits as needed (up to a point).

Figure 2 shows the components that the reader combines to create their sense of character: Psychology, Sociology, and Physiology.

VennSocPsychPysThemFigure 2: The Reader Internalizes Three Character Components, which Are Inseparable from Story Thematics

Now, what I have said so far is pretty straight forward, albeit a little abstract. Even so, most writers can begin to see how they might build a catalog of physical character traits, how they might build up a backstory for each character, and how they might set both the backstory and the foreground story in a sociological milieu they have created. All good, and these are certainly things we will explore.

However, this is where it gets interesting and where many writers run into trouble, especially if they imagine story progressively in the same order readers read stories.

For a fully satisfying read, the reader’s perception of character must be loaded with elements that are either resonant with or in contrast to the thematics of the story. The nature of characters cannot be separated from the dramatics and thematics of the story. In a very real sense, character IS story.

One definition of story I’m very fond of is: Story is the demonstration of successful personal and social change as a result of stress.

In Figure 2, the three-part overlap at the center is labelled “thematics.” The reader’s perception of characters is critical in their eventual understanding of the themes of the story. If the characters are built with sufficient skill, the reader’s perception of them will be inseparable from the reader’s perception of the themes the story demonstrates.

The themes being demonstrated, or even just touched upon, by aspects of character may be explicit or implicit in the text, which is another way of saying the actual, literal textual representation of character may present or imply themes. Additionally, the reader will project their own life experience into the story and onto the character. Note that I said “will” and not “might.” No reader can divorce themselves completely from personal experience, and the writer must manage the reader’s projections by being very specific and appropriately vague. That last bit gets a lot of writing instructors a bit up in my face. It flies in the face of the “concrete details” and “show, don’t tell” adages. However, any selling fiction writer will likely agree that knowing how to let the reader’s imagination create a story is intertwined with knowing what words to put on the page and what words to leave off.

The first two classes in the six month series will explore the above theoretical interactions by practicing hands-on techniques for developing and managing characters in emotionally compelling fiction. The first class will focus primarily on how the reader builds their understanding of character, and hence story and theme, from what the character says and does. The second class will focus primarily on how the reader builds their understanding of character from the more subtle influences of the character’s social and psychological history as presented or implied in decision making and setting experience. Both classes will explore techniques for managing the reader’s contribution to character and story.

Here’s the link to the series. I hope we fill the room with highly creative, motivated writers who challenge the limits of techniques we play with. That is when the classes really sing for everyone involved.

Luck and skill to all who write and send.