>>> Item number 28564 from WRITERS LOG9404C --- (123 records) ---- <<<
Date:         Mon, 18 Apr 1994 18:35:02 JST
Reply-To:     WRITERS <WRITERS@NDSUVM1.BITNET>
Sender:       WRITERS <WRITERS@NDSUVM1.BITNET>
From:         Mike Barker <barker@AEGIS.OR.JP>
Subject:      TECH: More Fiction than Fact

    Gwanda D. Newcomma seems to be enjoying her dalliance with John T.,
and has pretty much decided this war-torn little piece of turf is worth
a longer look, but the question remains - how does she cobble together a
fiction story?

    Let's see - there's the notion that the fiction writer, even more
than the non-fiction writer, is dealing in some sense with a general
event, using words to mirror reality with a twist and a warp and a
little brighter light than might have been there before...mimetic
copying of the appearance of reality for entertainment, play, or some
other reason (I'll skip the bugs doing it for protection from predation,
as I don't think writing protects as much as it reveals...).
    So perhaps the simplest way to start is to take a factual story, a
true-life event, and add a few twists?  E.g., instead of having the
criminal get away with whatever they got away with, let the police be
just a touch sharper, the D.A. a bit more persuasive, and so forth, and
let justice wring the little chicken's neck?
    Such thinly disguised variations on reality are certainly one
approach to shifting from non-fiction to fiction writing, and are fairly
common in the marketplace.  One needs to be careful to change enough
names and other identifying marks, or know quite well where the lines of
libel and so forth are, but that's not too hard.  Simply "abstract" from
reality, taking what liberties one feels necessary with strictly factual
events, re-creating the basic facts into a higher "truth"?

    Gwanda's forehead wrinkles, her nose twists slightly, and the makeup
on one cheek flakes badly as she twists her mouth with distaste.
    "Lie?  Not tell the truth about what happened?"
    John T. pats her hand.
    "Not lie, exactly, honey.  Just a higher truth, not tied down to
what happened, but feeding the desires and hopes of humanity.  Now touch
up your makeup, and let the fool dig himself in deeper, he's kind of
amusing in his seriousness, ain't he?"
    He digs out a breath mint and sucks on it.

    Or, tying back to a thread that comes up irregularly, one could
start with an old story and refurbish it - starting with the general
event, then pinning it down with various bits and pieces of reality to
build a new version.  The nice part of this is that the writer has the
skeleton already available, and all they have to do is convert it into
their personal version - make the setting, characters, and so forth
unique, perhaps throw in enough variation to hide the underlying moldy
bones of the plot, but the general event is already one that is known
and familiar to both readers and writer, an "Everyman" mythos where we
are more interested in seeing how the writer keeps us interested and
fills out the expectations than in having our expectations broken.

    Gwanda winces, and pulls her dress around her legs.
    "Parables?  Does he mean fairy tales and stuff?  Religious claptrap?"
    John T. slides his hand along her thigh, then fingers idly the scarf
she's wearing as a belt.
    "Honey, he just means taking a pattern from somewhere and making it
fit your own fine proportions and color sense.  Like you've done with
the black polkadot on yellow cloth here.  Must be lots of women have
that same pattern, but you're the only one I know that would wear a
dress quite like this."

    Of course, there also seems to be some power in mixing and matching
- perhaps real people in a fictitious setting, or intertwined bits of a
real event (conflict/situation/plot) with a fictional plot, and so
forth.  The parts of the story that tie to facts help reinforce the
sense of belief for the reader, making the fictional parts easier to
swallow.  Perhaps a romance, set against one of the various wars or
other pieces of unpleasant reality that we know too well.

    Here's a "plotting" framework (from the Handbook for Mystery
Writers, I think)...

1.  What kind of story would I like to work on?  What kind of
experience, knowledge, etc. do I like to tell people about?
2.  For this kind of story, what sort of person is good for a main
character?
3.  For this kind of story and type of character, what would be a good
conflict or problem for him/her to face?  What is s/he up against?  What
is s/he trying to achieve?  What does s/he want so much?
4.  What are the obstacles to him/her achieving their goal(s)?  Who or
what must be overcome?
5.  Write one sentence describing the objective and the difficulties in
the way.
6.  Work out the middle - what kinds of peaks, valleys, detours, etc.
are they going to encounter along the way?

    A general event, I suppose, being slowly milled down towards being a
specific event, but retaining the shape of that abstract ideal...

    Sort of the reverse of the normal factual approach - instead of
starting with a specific set of events "out there" and abstracting it
into a more generic version, start with the general version and add
facts to produce a specific set of events which may never have occurred
in reality.  Take "coming of age" - add individuals, setting, etc. - and
tell the story of what happens, at least in the little "world" you've
built in your head.

    I'd suggest starting with at least two people, and probably three is
better, and giving each of them goals, obstacles, and some reason for
being together (the "crucible" - relationships, jobs, being trapped
together, whatever forces these people to work out their salvation or
damnation together instead of individually).  But that's quibbling over
the details of how to develop a specific event from a general notion,
not really arguing with the general approach.

    Gwanda lifts John T.'s hand off her waist and holds it.
    "Do you think I should do it, John?"
    He blinks, then looks up into her face.
    "Well, only if you really want to, Gwanda.  But if you do, I'll..
I'll help."
    "Oh, John!"
    She turns and runs to her terminal.  He follows, limping slightly,
tugging and pulling at his pants.
    "Er.. what are you doing, Gwanda?"
    "I'm going to write a story, of course.  What did you think?"
    He gets a handkerchief out of his pants and dabs at his forehead.
    "Oh, that.  Well, do you need to do it right now?"
    "Right now, John.  That's the best time to start, isn't it?"

WRITE!
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