Everything I did
Tag: story
Five Essential Elements for Compelling Stories
A stereotypical formulaic story:
An ambitious and spunky woman hits a low point in her career, so she leaves the big city to visit her small hometown, where she rekindles an old flame and learns a lesson about what’s really important in life. *cue heartfelt music*
Which basically means that once you’ve read one such story, you’ve read them all. *yawn* Yet a lot of writers keep sticking rigidly to the “basic plot” for whatever their chosen genre is, which ultimately makes them uninteresting to read.
I’ve decided to go ahead and break it down farther, to give you the analysis of the framework, so you know how to write a story without relying on imitating a plot that’s already been done.
I give you, the bare bones:
1.Exposition – Tell us who the story is about, the setting, and anything else that’s relevant to understand the rising action.
From our example above, this would be the description of ambitious and spunky woman, her chosen career, why she’s in a slump, why she chooses to return to her hometown.
To mix it up: An introverted yet successful cake decorator is given the challenge of a lifetime — making a cake to welcome the alien invasion. Describe how she’s successful, and why she was chosen.
2. Rising Action – This is usually the bulk of the story. The conflict has been introduced, and now it’s up to the characters to play it out.
From the example: The spunky woman meets her old flame, swoons over how gorgeous he is, then gets upset that he’s a jerk. Meanwhile, she has several deep conversations with her mom and/or best friend.
To mix it up: The cake decorator is teamed up with some important guy from the government, and together they work out the alien symbology to avoid accidentally offending the invaders. Meanwhile, they discover the aliens are allergic to buttercream, and need to come up with a substitute.
3. Climax – This is the culmination of events, and often the turning point in the story. It’s usually exciting.
From the example: Spunky woman and her old flame are stuck together somehow. They reveal their feelings and begin their relationship.
To mix it up: The cake decorator and government man realize that they were set up as scapegoats, and decide to hijack an alien cruiser to flee to the stars. Earth is doomed.
4. Falling action – This is where the characters work through the consequences of the climax.
From the example: The spunky woman is offered a new job, and she must choose between returning to the big city, or staying in her hometown with her old flame.
To mix it up: The cake decorator and government man discover an established colony of humans on Mars. Turns out, the aliens have been kidnapping people to populate it for years. They settle down together to live inside a dome city.
5. Resolution – The conflict is resolved, and the loose ends are tied up. Basically, it’s the author’s job to bid us a proper farewell so we feel satisfied that the story is over.
From the example: The spunky woman learns an important lesson about life and love, and decides to spend a little less time working, and a little more time living.
To mix it up: The cake decorator opens a new business on Mars, because frosting is her passion in life. Thanks to her knowledge that the aliens are allergic to buttercream, the colony can live in peace as long as they eat cake regularly. She is much happier than she ever was on Earth. She and government man have an unbreakable bond because of their shared experiences.
It’s essential that every story have all five parts. The climax doesn’t necessarily have to be big and dramatic, but there does need to be some pivotal event. Also, if you just end abruptly without a resolution, the story is going to feel unfinished.
If you use the story map as a guide for the events in your fiction, you can come up with new and exciting plots that don’t repeat the same old tropes over and over and over. Branch out, do something new, and still leave your readers feeling satisfied in the end.
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Concept Story – The Goddess Mask
I had wanted to write a fun short story for Halloween, but that ain’t happenin this year.
I did come across this concept story that I had written in 2011, for one of my more surreal ideas, though.
Good enough.
Esriel shivered, holding the brick tighter in her hand, fearful that the rain could compromise her ability to use it. In a moment the girl would be close enough, and Esriel would fix her mistake. It had been wrong of her to descend to the lower realm, and unfortunate that she had been seen. It was disastrous for the girl, however, that she had chosen to follow Esriel.
Never leave a loose end.
The girl was clumsy. Her breathing was loud, and her footsteps louder. She kicked pebbles, and cursed when she unexpectedly stepped into a puddle, soaking her shoe up to her ankle. Then, just barely out of position, she stopped.
“I saw you . . .” she began, her voice quavering. “I want to know . . .”
For a moment there was a twinge. No, she thought, never back down. Never let a mistake go unfixed. It wasn’t guaranteed to be a killing blow at that range, but it would do enough damage to let the second one do its work.
“Please, come out . . .”
Closing her eyes, Esriel steeled herself for the task and began to slowly count down. Three . . . two . . .
The signal.
Esriel’s eyes snapped open, the urge to obey already tearing at her body. She couldn’t leave the girl here, not with what she had seen. Willing herself to believe that she didn’t have any other choice, Esriel bounded out of the alcove that she had hidden herself in and grabbed hold of the girl’s shirt, dragging her along as her form shifted and dissipated, taking both of them to the higher realm.
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Accidentally writing a novel
I’ve hit 30,000 words with Alice and the Warden. While I had originally intended it to be a cutesy little side project, I just keep having more ideas. Thus, the story is still ongoing, and I haven’t even proven who the real murderer is yet.
At this point, I’ve realized that if I properly fleshed out the descriptions and gave it a (very) solid round of editing, I could publish it as a novel. Insert philosophy about additive writing, blah blah blah, etc. Basically, with my writing process, I metaphorically paint in broad strokes with the first draft then go back and add the details in later. That means that 30,000 words is going to end up being longer in the final version just from adding in details.
Not right now, though. Right now it’s July. My brain is melting out of my ears, and I’m having weird dreams about my children eating moldy cabbage. Like they’d ever willingly touch cabbage. I do not handle this part of summer all that well.
Anyway, it is kind of funny that my little romantic story has taken on such a life of its own.
I haven’t even gotten the two of them laid yet. XD
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Concept story – THEM
In the spirit of mentally changing the scenery to help stretch the kinks out, I wrote this concept story. It’s an idea that I’ve been playing with for awhile now — one o’ them scifi-fantasy hybrids. Anyway, it’s still very much a rough draft and needs a great deal more fleshing out before it can become a full blown story, but I think it has a good core.
Anthea grabbed Sebastian’s arm and pulled him underneath a nearby pine tree, holding him close as she pressed her back against the rough trunk. The bark made her skin itch through her shirt, but she kept her eyes locked on the gray clouds above them, barely daring to breathe.
After a minute, she whispered, “I don’t think They saw us.” Then she looked down at the four-year-old boy clinging to her leg and smiled. “There’s a great big house over there. If we can be quick and sneaky, we can hide inside.”
Sebastian nodded, his eyes huge with fear. Turning around, Anthea bent down to hoist him up onto her back, paused to loosen his grip around her neck, then darted from tree to tree, careful to remain underneath the branches as much as she could. It seemed as if the sky grew darker and more menacing as she went, but she didn’t dare pause to check if They were there.
There was a good 20-foot gap between the branches of the last tree and the stairs leading to the front door. Anthea took a deep breath before she sprinted, praying with every step that she’d reach the eaves of the house. It was almost surreal to discover that they were still alive as she pulled the door open and dumped Sebastian inside, and she hung in the doorway to stare out at the sky. The gray clouds churned and for a heart-stopping moment she thought she saw a flash of one of Them, but nothing happened as the seconds ticked away.
Sebastian’s hand tugged at her shirt. Anthea turned around, then compulsively pulled the small child against her as she let out a stifled gasp.
The sorcerer watched them from several feet away, he hand lax on his staff. He had very long, and very straight black hair that matched his matte black robe, making Anthea think he was more reminiscent of the ancient stories about vampires.
“It’s all right, Anthea,” he said with a smile. “I’m not dangerous.”
“Who are you? How do you know my name?” she blurted, then immediately felt foolish for asking such stereotypical questions. The sorcerer’s appearance was so unexpected her mind had turned itself off, and all she could do was default to cheesy cliches.
“To put it simply, we are betrothed,” he answered softly.
“Betrothed? You mean . . . marriage?” Anthea was feeling even more numb. “How is that possible? I’m not from . . .”
“Kyros brought you here from the past, I know,” the sorcerer said as he stepped forward. “And I am from the future. However, we must find our small pleasures whenever we can, and this night will belong to us.” He then knelt down next to Sebastian, who scooted to hide behind Anthea’s leg, and smiled as he asked, “Are you hungry? I have prepared a feast for us, with an assortment of sweets for dessert.”
Sebastian looked up at Anthea.
“I think it will be okay,” she told him, still struggling to process what was happening. “They didn’t see us come here, and we have to stay put until morning anyway.”
Anthea felt mesmerized by the sorcerer as he led them to the dining room, and she wondered if she had died during her sprint from the tree to the house after all – it felt too much like a dream to be the harsh world that Kyros had brought her into. However, Sebastian’s hand in hers felt solid, and the tantalizing smell of food was real enough. She hadn’t eaten that well since she had been yanked out of her previous life, and she couldn’t resist the urge to dig in and enjoy herself. Sebastian gave his serving of meat and gravy an obligatory nibble, helped himself to a pastry filled with whipped cream. Anthea almost scolded him for not properly eating his dinner, then stopped with the thought that he had likely never tasted whipped cream before in his entire life. If this truly was a dream, then it might as well be a good one, so she let it slide.
The sorcerer didn’t speak as they ate. He seemed content to sit and watch Anthea, and something about his eyes made her heart pound. He had said that he had come from the future, and it was strange to think of herself as the wife of someone who was quite literally dark and mysterious.
Anthea was a nanny. An important nanny who looked after the prince, perhaps, but still one just the same. The story that Kyros told her was that her older, original, incarnation had cared for Sebastian since his birth, until she had been killed protecting him when their settlement had been discovered and destroyed by Them. Kyros then journeyed into the past and brought the younger, current her forward with him, swearing to take complete responsibility for her afterwards. Anthea had assumed that meant she belonged to Kyros.
How could she end up married to the sorcerer?
When they were too stuffed to eat any more, the sorcerer took them to the den. There was a chest of toys for Sebastian to play with, and the sorcerer motioned for Anthea to join him on the sofa. He put his arms around her and pulled her against him, but Anthea remained stiff.
“I don’t understand . . .” she protested, attempting to sit back up straight, but the sorcerer didn’t let her.
“I wanted to see you,” he murmured. “There isn’t enough time in the future, so please indulge me.”
His words were even more confusing. “You make it sound like I’m going to die,” she said.
“No.” He chuckled slightly. “I’ll keep you alive.”
Anthea allowed herself to relax and watched Sebastian play happily with an assortment of cars and airplanes. She could hear the sorcerer’s heart beating inside his chest at a slightly quickened pace, and the thought of him experiencing some sort of emotion underneath that placid exterior was oddly comforting.
Was it love?
Sebastian was shrieking with delight as he played, behaving more like the four-year-olds that Anthea had known from her previous life – before They had arrived and driven humanity away from the surface. The sight brought tears to her eyes.
The sorcerer remained silent as he held her, his mouth slightly down turned as he stared at the floor. As the night wore on, Sebastian climbed up onto the sofa next to them and fell asleep with an airplane clutched in his hand, and the sorcerer produced a warm blanket that he spread over the three of them. Anthea couldn’t help but drift off as well, feeling oddly safe with that strange man who had so mysteriously appeared. She decided that when she met him properly in the future, she would fall in love and marry him . . .
*
Sunlight woke her up. Anthea’s muscles ached, and she felt empty as she sat up and looked around. Her movement roused Sebastian, and after a minute his small voice asked, “Where is everything?”
“I don’t know,” Anthea replied. The room was now empty and dilapidated, with no sign of the sorcerer anywhere. The only things that remained were the airplane in Sebastian’s hands, and the blanket that had covered them both. “Last night really happened, right?” she asked.
“I think so,” Sebastian replied.
She stood and stretched, hoping to shake off the dazed sensation that pressed against her ears. “C’mon, let’s get you home. Kyros is going to be mad enough as it is, without us dawdling.”
Anthea carefully folded up the blanket, and with it tucked under her arm she took Sebastian’s hand and slipped out the front door, casting one last glance back as they left.
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Realistic Fiction
I don’t normally write realistic fiction.
I was put off the genre back in my Creative Writing classes, when everyone assumed that my realistic stories were biographical, to the point where it caused some unwelcome drama. No, I did not base any characters off of you as some sort of passive-aggressive attack. Chill out.
Currently, Alice and the Warden is my only story that doesn’t contain fantastical elements, since my main reason for writing it is to indulge in over-the-top adorableness and romance. Throwing in things like magic, dragons, or aliens would detract from that. Aside from being set in a castle-prison in an ancient forest, everything could sort of actually happen maybe? Since it’s more realistic than, say, The Scion Suit, I have anxiety that others will think that it’s biographical.
Especially because a lot of authors really do base characters off of real people.
No, I have never met any women who ran off with degenerate boyfriends in their teens, then turned their lives around when they had a baby (and that never happened to me either). I could say that Alice is based off of attributes from a wide variety of people that I’ve met in my lifetime, but in my opinion, the most accurate way of describing it is that she sought me out on the spiritual level to tell her story.
Things writers don’t talk about because it makes them sound crazy, lol.
Truthfully though, I could never write anything too realistic. I like to take too many creative liberties. After all, castle-prisons are far more romantic than regular prisons.
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Alice and the Warden – Table of Contents
Alice had gotten herself in over her head with a dangerous man, and ended up in prison for a crime that she did not commit. Locked alone in a tower in the middle of a forest, she finds herself and the value that she still possesses, as she seeks to prove that she deserves to keep her unborn child.
Somehow intertwined with it all, the Warden oversees her transformation and inspires her to keep trying.
Rated M for language, sexuality, alcohol, drug use, violence
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Alice & Alicia
Lately I’ve been devoting most of my free time to working on Alice and the Warden, and I haven’t been putting much energy into blogging — reading or writing. Since I consider writing fiction to be my strongest talent, I’m at peace with the idea of posting a new story section once a week and spending the rest of my time offline.
Totally not dead. Not snubbing anyone. Not bored and on the verge of disappearing. I’m just entering my third trimester, and feeling more introverted than usual. Still completely enamored with storytelling.
I do want to say this, however, in regards to Alice and the Warden:
I am aware that I named the baby Alicia.
I know that spoken out loud, Alice and Alicia are pronounced very differently, but in written form we’re merely swapping an ‘e’ for an ‘ia’.
I know that this can get visually confusing.
In fact, I even had an argument with Alice over it (yes, my own fictional character), and pointed out that in a story that is intended to be read, it would be easier if we named the baby something else. I was promptly informed that either I write the story as it comes to me, or I can forget writing the story at all.
So, I apologize if I accidentally type ‘Alice’ when I meant ‘Alicia’ (and vice versa). I’m doing my best to keep my brain and fingers on the correct course.
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Quote from The Black Magus
Elias couldn’t shake the strange sensation that was overtaking him, the feeling that the future was shaping itself in that moment
-The Black Magus, by Autumn Rain
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Alice and the Warden – 3
Alice had met Damon when she was sixteen-years-old, and he had talked her into bed with him that night. Shortly afterwards, she dropped out of school to run away with him on his motorcycle, and somewhere along the road she lost her sense of self.
When Damon asked her to have sex with a friend to repay a favor, she did it. When he wanted leverage over someone, she became a seductress on his behalf. He taught her to steal, chose her clothing for her, and pushed her into drugs and alcohol. After four years, Alice had disappeared completely underneath Damon, to the point that when he asked her to confess to murder, she did it without hesitation.
Until the moment Alice found herself alone in the stall of a public restroom, staring down at the two lines of a nicked pregnancy test, too numb to feel her heart beat. It was then that the word ‘dignity’ had risen up sharply in her mind, spoken by that stupid, impotent warden she had vowed to hate just three weeks prior.
Dignity.
She still didn’t know what it meant, but she knew that if she told Damon he would insist on an abortion, and she wouldn’t argue against him. That wasn’t what she wanted, and she knew that it wasn’t dignified to be so blindly obedient to someone like Damon. There was no doubt that he was the father, but she couldn’t trust him with her baby.
She never told him.
A couple weeks later, they checked into a motel where Damon began to undress her as usual, but Alice didn’t have it in her to go through with it. She was more tired than she had thought possible, slightly nauseated from the pregnancy, and angry at Damon for using her too much. For the first time ever, she snapped at him to ‘fuck off,’ then for a terrifying second afterward thought that he was going to hit her in response.
Instead, he grabbed his bag and left.
When dawn broke in the morning, Alice awoke with the realization that he hadn’t returned. She waited, staring at the clock until the motel staff chased her out to prepare the room for the next guest, and she drifted to a nearby diner to continue her wait, knowing full well that he wasn’t coming back for her.
She had a $20 hidden in her bra, so she ordered blueberry pancakes with whipped cream to help make up for skimping on dinner the night before, and she ate slowly as she wondered about what she was going to do. Her mom wasn’t going to want her back in the state she was in – especially after four years of estrangement – and everyone she knew was exactly like Damon. She didn’t have any resources, but she couldn’t live in the gutter with a baby growing inside of her.
By chance, the small TV in the corner of the diner showed a mugshot of her with the words, “Wanted for questioning.” Alice stared, seeing herself for the first time. That girl, glowering at the camera with flamingo pink hair and far too much eyeliner really looked like the sort of person who would be involved in murder, even though Alice had never felt that way on the inside – she didn’t want to hurt anyone.
She dialed the phone number provided on the screen with her cellphone, then put her $20 on the table before slipping outside.
With nowhere to go, Alice turned herself in.
By Autumn Rain 