Creating Story by Using the Three Levels of Conflict

By Gamal Hennessy

If I can write a book, you can write a book. This article just offers a few tips to help you explore your own creative gifts.

When writing, I’ve always found it helpful to understand the vast majority of all fictional plots boils down to a struggle to achieve a goal. A protagonist or hero has an object of desire that is material or situational. Maybe they want to get a rare item or get into a relationship with a particular person. To get what she wants, your heroine has to exert effort against everything that stands between her and her goal. The power and intensity of her obstacles will define both your heroine and the strength of your story. But where do those obstacles come from and how can we build them into the story in a way that tests the heroine in the most satisfying manner for readers?

I’ve found one answer in playing with the different levels of conflict.

Three Levels of Conflict
A level of conflict is a source of antagonism that stands between your protagonist and their goal. Robert McKee's book Story defines three major levels of conflict:

• Internal: where the thoughts, feelings or physical characteristics of a protagonist block achievement of the goal
• Interpersonal: where relationships with other people or groups block achievement
• Extra-personal: where institutions, natural phenomenon and situations block achievement

As an example, let's say you're writing a story about a Jewish boy living in Jerusalem. He has just seen a beautiful Arab girl and in that moment realizes he’s in love. What obstacles does Adam face in his quest for a relationship? As a writer, you have several options:

• Internal: His shyness, lack of experience with women and unattractive features could get in the way of his budding romance. 
• Interpersonal: The girl might resist his advances for her own reasons, or she might have a boyfriend who wants to remove him from the picture. Also, his parents could try to prevent him from getting involved with an Arab girl. The girl's brothers might threaten him with violence.  His own friends might reject him.
• Extra-personal: The wider Arab Israeli conflict could also inhibit our hero. Hezbollah bombings into the settlements could disrupt Adam's life or create a curfew situation. A suicide bomb could destroy everything or even kill the girl. Protests, strikes or other mass social events could tear their relationship apart before it even gets started.

This is just a few examples of what this boy might be up against. If he is able to win this girl's love, the obstacles he'll have to overcome could make an amazing story.

The type you choose is often a function of genre. An action adventure might have heavy interpersonal and extra personal conflict when the hero battles the arch villain on the top of a mountain in a blinding snow storm, but very little internal conflict. A cozy mystery might have strong internal focus as the detective quietly strains her intellect to solve the crime. Every style of writing can tap into each type of conflict, but some genres lend themselves to specific conflict types.

Conflict as Spotlight

The best way I've found to develop conflict in my work is to focus on the aspects of my protagonist that I want to reveal and then creating conflicts that explore those traits. One of my main characters in my new novel Smoke and Shadow is a man named Harrison Trent. At the most basic level, Harrison’s conflict is internal. He wants to forget the mistakes he’s made in his past and he is willing to place himself in extreme danger because the immediacy of a life and death struggle is the only way he can forget the things he’s done. To show his dedication to this goal, I put several obstacles in his path every time he steps into the readers mind.

The best stories have the strongest conflicts. While it's not necessary to throw every obstacle at every character in every story, a weak story is most often the result of weak antagonists. Pit your heroine against the strongest combination of antagonism that you can think of. Your characters will hate it, but your readers will thank you for it.

Now go write something. ;-)
Gamal

Consequential Violence: The Impact of Combat in Fiction

The action and thriller genres rely on certain established tropes. The hero needs someone or something to protect. He (or in rare cases she) will define their individuality by being a lone wolf with no affiliation or being a rebel in an existing power structure. When it comes to physical prowess or combat skill, the hero will be placed in situations where they can to injure, maim and kill to show how badass they are. This is one of the pillars of action stories from The Odyssey to Spectre and it can be the best part of a story. But combat, fight scenes and violence lose their impact when they become inconsequential.

Defining Consequence

Dictionary.com defines consequence as:

1. The effect, result, or outcome of something occurring earlier
2. An act or instance of following something as an effect, result, or outcome.
3. The conclusion reached by a line of reasoning; inference.
4. Importance or significance
5. Importance in rank or position; distinction:

In action and thriller fiction, violence often has no consequences for the characters or the hero. I’ve read a best-selling novel that started with a six man shootout in New York’s Central Park during the day in the 21^st Century.  The hero moved through the plot without any acknowledgment of the effect that event would have. The cops never arrived and never investigated the event, even though there is a police precinct in Central Park and the surrounding area has a heavy police presence because of all the high priced real estate around. No one had any video of the incident, even though there are cameras in the Park and everyone has an iPhone. The hero was shot during the incident, but suffered no physical, mental or emotional impact from the incident. There was no mention of any news story about a massive gun battle in the middle of the most famous park in New York City. This lack of consequence gnawed at me until I was forced to put the book down because I couldn’t suspend enough of my disbelief to keep reading.

Exploring Consequence

In real life of course, violence has consequences for everyone involved. Books like Violence: A Writer’s Guide, Real World Self Defense, On Combat and the Writing Violence series discuss the consequences of violence in depth, but in broad strokes physical combat can affect a character’s

•          Mental facilities: people often see and perceive the world in a different way after a violent encounter. Depending on the situation, their view of the world, other people and themselves can undergo profound change. This can happen whether they win or lose.
•          Emotional well-being: We have learned a lot in recent years about the impact of post-traumatic stress disorder on people who go through violent encounters. It doesn’t just impact soldiers engaged in drawn out conflict. PTSD can hit anyone involved in any number of encounters. It should also be noted that some people react in the opposite way, developing emotional frameworks that seek out and enjoy violence.
•          Physical health: It might be obvious to say violence often hurts and can sometimes kill, but when reading action novels or watching action movies, this reality is often ignored. Characters can be shot, stabbed, beaten and bruised in one scene and restored to full health in the next. I know people who have suffered long term injuries in the relative safety of practice. Why ignore all those realities in fiction?
•          Legal Status: Most types of violence are officially illegal in most countries of the world. People who engage in violent acts can easily face arrest, prosecution and prison for something as simple as a street fight. The more over the top and bloody the encounter, the more likely the police will be to get involved, and the legalities of “self-defense” usually don’t protect people who willingly participate in violence
•          Social Status: Different segments of society react to violence in different ways. While a shoving match at a high society party might send someone into exile, a friendly fistfight might not even be remembered the next day in another part of the city or country. In either case, if the event is in public it probably won’t go unnoticed or undocumented in the modern world. Just type in “street fight” or “fist fight” in YouTube to see what I mean. In addition, the “winner” and ‘loser” of the fight will have to deal with the repercussions of their actions in their social circles, whether they are positive or negative.
•          Daily lifestyle: Violence often creates more violence. The winner of a fight today might find himself hunted by the loser, or his friends, or his company, or his country depending on the importance of the loser. The winner of a fight might find himself constantly looking over his shoulder for the revenge attack. In the worst case scenario, he might not be able to ever go home again.
•          Financial Status: Between doctor bills, legal bills, psychology bills and protecting against future attacks, the cost of violence in dollars and cents can cause more long term damage than the physical beating. People have been bankrupted by violent encounters even if they won and even if they were exonerated in court.

Consequence in Story

Barry Eisler is one of my favorite writers and his style inspires my own work when it comes to depicting violence. The John Rain Series is full of violent scenes, but consequence always plays an important role before and after the fight. Mr. Eisler’s characters often spend most of the novel trying to anticipate, eliminate or reduce the impact of impending violence, creating a tension few other writers can create.

In my next book, Smoke and Shadow, I tell stories of two combat operators and their missions against warlords, slave traders and insurgents. In each novella, the characters take the time to plot, plan and prepare for what might go wrong in their violent encounters. I hope the result creates a dynamic both interesting and realistic.

The Truth about Fiction

Not every story benefits from complex portrayals of violence. Part of the fun of a James Bond or superhero film is ignoring legal and emotional realities for a few hours. But some stories and characters can be enhanced and improved if their violent actions had more consequences.

What do you think? Let me know in the comments. I look forward to hearing from you.

Have fun.
Gamal

Are You in Love With Your Writing, or Are You In Lust With It?

By Gamal Hennessy

I’m coming out of my summer break from posting and I wanted to jump back into the craft with a few thoughts on a writer’s relationship to their writing.

Before I start, please understand that I'm not an expert on self-publishing. I don't even refer to my business as self-publishing. I call it independent publishing because it implies that I publish outside the traditional publishing system. ”Self-publishing” implies that I do everything myself and that's not true. I have a lot of formal and informal help with my books that make them better than anything I could do alone. I want to acknowledge that every time I talk about this business.(See What is the Difference Between Self-Publishing and Independent Publishing?)

Anyway, I've only been in the game for about two years. As of July 2014, I’ll only have one novel, eight short stories and one anthology to my name. Because I don't have a book publishing background, I spend a lot of time reading and learning about the business. Some of my education comes from research. Most of what I've learned comes from making my own mistakes. I make a lot of mistakes, so I guess I've learned a lot.

I share what little I know through my newsletter, The Independent Publishing Network. Every week I explore the minutiae of an industry that is changing every day. People have told me that information is really helpful, but if I had to boil down all the details of what I know into one piece of advice for a new writer, I would say treat your writing with love instead of lust.

Now what the hell does that mean?

When a person falls in love, they offer their time, energy and creativity to the loved one with enthusiasm. They bring the best aspects of themselves to the process. They make an effort to keep the relationship going, because they want it to last as long as possible. They are always looking for new ways to express their love. They are proud to display that affection in public. Part of what defines the lover is the person they are in love with.

A person in lust wants to get something from the object of their desire as quickly as possible. They are often single minded and ruthless in their pursuits. They jump from target to target, never taking the time to establish a bond or relationship with anyone. They often repeat a scripted pattern of behavior with each new target. They often act in secret or with a certain amount of shame. They are more defined by their hungers than their connections to others.

All this might seem very abstract, but the concept of love vs. lust has concrete applications for an independent publisher.

• A writer in love with writing wants to publish as many books as they can in their lifetime. A writer in lust with writing wants that one book that will give them money, recognition, sex or whatever it is they are really after.
•  A writer in love with writing writes about things that they are passionate about. A writer in lust with writing writes stories that they think are "hot" or take advantage of a pop culture trend.
• A writer in love with writing takes time to learn their craft and find their voice. A writer in lust doesn't want to invest time and effort because they think writing is fundamentally easy. (It’s not.)
• A writer in love with writing uses social media to make connections with readers and other writers. A writer in lust with writing uses every social media post to scream "please buy my book"
•  A writer in love with writing reads a lot. A writer in lust with writing is only interested in other writers when he's trying to sell them his book.
• A writer in love with writing will start on a new project soon after the current one is done. A writer in lust with writing checks the sales figures on their book every thirty minutes instead of writing, hoping they'll see a magical flood of royalties.
•  A writer in love with writing will experiment and try new things to improve both their writing craft and their publishing business. A writer in lust with writing is looking for that one gimmick or magic bullet that will make his book sell.
• A writer in love with writing takes pride in their catalog and tries to expose it to you as many people as possible in as many ways as they can. A writer in lust with writing will reject independent publishing as dead after the first book fails because their book isn't a bestseller.

I could go on, but you get the idea.

I'm not trying to imply that I haven't committed lustful thoughts and actions (both inside and outside of writing). As far as the writing is concerned, the things I’ve done based on lust have been some of my biggest mistakes.

I'm not saying that writers in lust always fail and writers in love always succeed.  I am saying that when I started loving the process of writing I had less stress and more fun with the experience. You may or may not become the next Stephen King. If you love what you're doing, it won't really matter.

Have fun.
G

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What is the Best Media Outlet for Your Writing?

By Gamal Hennessy

I was discussing my new novel with a friend over brunch when we got into a discussion about how story medium affects the message. I mentioned my plan to release my work in paperback, audiobook and graphic novel. He asked how I knew which stories would translate best into which media outlet. It is a good question, so I decided to elaborate on my brunch answer here.

A basic goal of every writer is to create a good story and tell it in the best way possible. Modern entertainment and technology have given us a variety of different vehicles to deliver our work including books, theater and film. Each of us choose to release our work in one medium over another based on a variety of personal factors. In most cases, the types of stories we tell are better suited for one medium over another. How do you know which vehicle fits your writing best? If you consider your stories primary level of conflict, you’ll get a much better idea of where your work would have the most impact.

Levels of Conflict

According to Robert McKee’s Story, stories are about the conflict between the desires of the protagonist and their reality. McKee points to three primary levels of conflict in his system:

• Internal: the struggle between the protagonist and his own body, mind and heart. For example, a man could want to resist the advances of a certain woman, but he might not be able to convince his heart or body to comply
• Interpersonal: the struggle between the protagonist and the other people in their lives either based on their social role (parent/ child, boss/employee) or personality conflicts outside of formal definitions. A woman might rebel against her mother as a teenager and have disputes with her later in life for reasons that have nothing to do with their respective social roles.
• Extrapersonal: the struggle between the protagonist and his environment, institutions and society as a whole. A protagonist could fight against nature in a flood, the court system in a legal drama or an entire system of government.

Most stories have conflict on all three levels at once (See Hitting Your Hero from All Sides), but many stories have a primary level of conflict where the main struggle is located. For example, Luke Skywalker has several instances of internal struggle in the Star Wars series, and interpersonal battles between his companions and his father, but it was his extrapersonal fight against the forces of the Empire that comprised the primary conflict in the story.

The Relationship Between Story Conflict and Story Medium

Each modern media that we have specializes in a different type of conflict. This specialization comes from the way information is conveyed by the artist and received by the audience.

• Prose (novel, novella and short story) specializes in internal conflict because it gives the ability for the artists to convey what is going on inside the characters. The reader is able to see all the struggles of emotion, belief and values inside the mind of the protagonist without needing any external actions or reactions to assist this understanding. (Example: A Spy in the House of Love)
• Theater (play, musical or audiobooks) specializes in interpersonal conflict because it focuses on the verbal interaction between people without reliance on internal dialogue or major external stimulus. Entire stories often play themselves out in a single location with all conflicts resolved within the context of each actor playing of the emotional reactions of the others. (Example: Twelve Angry Men)
• Visual Media (TV, Film, Sequential Art, Interactive Media) specializes in extrapersonal conflict because it has the ability to deliver huge amounts of information in a single image. Viewers have the ability to understand setting, conflict, and tone in seconds, without a single word of dialogue being spoken. Conflict that would be difficult or impossible to convey in words or discussion can be brought to life with pictures that are larger than life. (Example: The Matrix)

Finding a Home

This is not to say that stories cannot crossover from one media to another. Movies are made from books and plays every year. Broadway shows recreate both books and movies and novelizations of movies are also common. Some translations like Johnny Mnemonic fail completely. Others, like Sin City, don’t offer any additional benefit from being translated. A few translations, including Damage, are able to surpass the original work. But each story has a natural home. Your stories probably also have a medium where they would work the best. Are you writing in your natural medium?

Writing for one media instead of another is not just a matter of personal taste and creative disposition. Each one has it’s own business model and creative conventions that need to be understood if a writer wants to get his work into the world. Every writer can’t just produce a play or get a screenplay picked up. Many of us find our home in prose because it has the lowest barrier to entry. Even as the cost of audiobooks, experimental theater and independent film shrinks, books will probably remain the media for most of us.

But that doesn’t mean that we can learn from other media when it comes to developing our craft. If you know your stories lean towards interpersonal conflict, then it pays to learn and adopt techniques of the playwright when crafting your stories. If you want stories with an epic extrapersonal sweep, steal what you can from the screenwriter. Our craft is the creation of story. Each type of storyteller can help us find the tools we need to build the best work possible.

Have fun.
Gamal

Nine Good Reasons (and One Bad One) Why Independent Novelists Should Write Short Stories

By Gamal Hennessy

Most authors I know (both independent and traditional) see the novel as their main creative outlet. It has the substance, gravitas and size to mark it as a major achievement. Few of them focus on shorter works as a beneficial aspect of their craft. (I include both short stories and novellas into this discussion See Just How Long is a Novel and How Much Should it Cost?)  I feel that independents, even more than traditional authors can get enormous benefits from writing short fiction. I've identified ten virtues of writing shorter stories that cover the business, craft and lifestyle of writing.

Business Virtues

1) Production benefits: Independents have several aspects of the production process that they have to be comfortable with in order to get their work out into the world. The best way to understand the nuances of pre-production, production, post production and launch is to get in there and do it. (See The Four Stages of Novel Production) There is a natural discomfort that comes from trying to understand all these moving parts when the 'test study' for your publishing education is the 120,000 word manuscript that you've worked on for two years. That hesitation is reduced when the “test subject” is a 15,000 word short story that you wrote in a month. You would still try to produce the best book possible, of course. But the emotional cost of each inevitable mistake would be less damaging to your psyche.

2) Cost benefits: One of the major costs in independent publishing is editing (See How to Find an Editor without Going Insane). The editing cost for a 120,000 word book can easily be $2,000 or more. The price is often based on word count, so a 15,000 word story might only cost $240 under a similar pricing model. This lower price offers flexibility on two fronts. First, you're more likely to try different editors if you know the cost associated with each one isn't that much. Second, the release of each book won't take such a huge chunk out of your limited personal budget. There is an increased cover cost for multiple books (See the Mystery of Cover Design) but there are ways to keep those costs substantially lower than your editing costs.

3) Sales benefits: The popular wisdom about independent publishing is that the more products you have in the market, the easier it is for readers to find you and the more success you'll have in the long term. The problem with that is that it might not be feasible to get 10-15 novels out in a reasonable period of time. Releasing 10-15 novellas on the other hand is a more manageable production plan (See What's Your Publishing Plan?)

Craft Virtues

4) Playground for Ideas: If you're playing with a certain characters or scenarios for a larger work, but you're not sure if you want to tell that story over an entire novel, then a short story can help you explore the narrative potential. If you get to the end of the short story and you're itching to write more, go ahead. If the idea fizzles after 10,000 words, then you can avoid wrestling with the concept for 30,000 to 40,000 words before you realize you've written yourself into a space that you can't get out of.

5) "Extra" ideas: I often come to points in my novels where minor characters suggest stories that won't fit into the main narrative. At other points they hint at something in their backstory that deserves to be explored. Instead of trying to cram it into the story where it might not fit or forgetting the idea altogether, I often use that idea as a separate short story to satisfy my creative detour without derailing me from the main plot.

6) Building blocks: I work under the concept that the chapter of a book is a mini story in its own right that includes a beginning, turning point and end (See Analysis of Story Structure Part 1: The Chapter). The only difference between short stories and chapters is that the chapter needs an internal consistency that also serves the broader book. Writing short stories is great practice for manipulating the individual elements of a novel that can be strung together to complete the story in the same way a season of a TV series is made up of discrete episodes. 

Lifestyle virtues

7) Project management: Cooking dinner for two is less intimidating than cooking for twenty. A 15,000 word project is less intimidating than a 150,000 word project. Breaking your creative work into smaller chunks might get you to a place mentally where you are more productive. This is even more beneficial if you use your short stories to build a larger novel.

8) Greater sense of accomplishment: When I look on my author page on Amazon, I feel better when I have more titles up there. The bigger catalog gives me a sense of progress and productivity that inspires me to write more. I don't know if I would get the same sense of accomplishment if I only saw my novels.

9) Creative freedom: When you know all your writing isn't tied up in one project, you can take risks. You can explore different genres, perspectives and ideas. You can push concepts farther than you normally would without sacrificing your main books. These might be stories that you never even release, but the creative freedom that they give you will come back and make your main stories even better.

The Vice of Short Stories

If there is a downside for releasing short stories, it is their length in relation to their price. With many independents selling full novels for $2.00 less, some readers and writers might reject the idea of selling 15,000 words for $.99. While I might disagree with the $.99 novel concept, I understand the economic problem it creates. 

My solution is to release a series of short stories in an anthology that is cheaper than the cost of all the individual stories. For example, I released an anthology of related short stories called Smooth Operator in 2013. The book contained five short stories and one novella for a total of 65,000 words. If I released each one individually, the price of the set would have been $7.99. I released Smooth Operator for $4.99 or 40% off the individual story cost. It's still more than the $.99 novel, but I don't believe in selling full novels for a buck.

Your turn

Do you write short stories in addition to or instead of writing longer novels? Do you do it for some or all of the reasons I listed, or do you have another rationale? Please share in the comments below. 

Have fun

Gamal

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Creating Your Own Niche: Developing Your Own Sub Genre

When I wrote about the opportunities and pitfalls of writing genre fiction last week, I suggested that we as independent authors have the chance to distinguish ourselves by pushing the boundaries of our chosen genre. (See Genre Conventions, Clichés and Evolution) Now, I'd like to focus on the specific I work with to help illustrate this idea.

Genre Combinations

It’s common in modern fiction for stories to blend more than one genre together. The tension or interaction between the different conventions gives the narrative a particular flavor that can work very well. Historical romance, military science fiction and dystopian YA have been and continue to be popular combinations.

I combine crime thrillers and spy fiction into a sub-genre that I refer to as criminal espionage. The connection between the two base overlaps to the point of almost being seamless. Intelligence officers often deal with smugglers, assassins, thieves and other criminal elements to carry out their missions. Espionage itself is often defined as breaking the laws of a foreign government to acquire information. Many of the major historical events that revolve around spies including Watergate, the Iran Contra Affair, and even Madame Butterfly also have a distinct criminal component.

The Why and the How

So if there is a basic link between crime fiction and spy fiction, what makes mine unique? The two aspects that I try to focus on are process and motivation.

Motivation: Unlike the standard spy fiction tropes, my stories are not about terrorists trying to kill the President, finding secret nuclear facilities or recovering the list of every undercover agent that always happens to be lying around waiting for someone to steal. (See How to Write Spy Fiction) The goals of my characters are much more sordid. They're driven by things like greed, lust, revenge and hate. Of course these negative drives find their way into spy thrillers of all types, but in my work they are not subsumed by concepts of avoiding war or saving the world. I feel the scope and reach of their actions and consequences is much closer to the reader's perspective. Hopefully that makes the characters and the story easier to relate to.

Process: Unlike a lot of crime fiction that I've read, my characters commit their crimes with the skills and tactics normally reserved for elite spies and Special Forces. My criminals are not desperate degenerates. They are skilled specialists. They don't rush blindly into an action. They study, evaluate, prepare and execute their operations with precision. They plan for not only the violent action but the legal, medical and social consequences of their actions. There are many real and imagined criminals that approach their craft with the same rigor. By combining high training with low motives, I try to capture a flavor in my work that will set me apart from other thriller writers.

Pioneers of the Craft

While I may or may not have coined the term criminal espionage, I certainly did not come up with the idea first. There is a significant body of work in this subgenre that spans across several types of media including:

• Books: 100 Bullets, A Lonely Resurrection, Thick as Thieves, The Killer, Silence and Co.
• Film: The American, Bad Company, Driver, The Professional, The Usual Suspects, Way of the Gun
• Television: Burn Notice, Leverage
• Video games: Hitman, Watch Dogs, Sleeping Dogs

All these stories provide more than just inspiration. They provide a road map that other criminal espionage writers can follow by introducing the concepts that can become conventions over time.

Your Turn

So what subgenre are you working in? What major works define your space and what have you learned from them? How do you make your work stand apart? Please leave a comment and let me know. We can all learn something by both finding our own space and watching others build their own genres too.

Have fun.

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Genre Fiction: Conventions, Clichés and Evolution

by Gamal Hennessy

Fiction writers balance their work on a creative tightrope. On one hand, we create books that fit within one or more categories defined by the public and the creators who came before us. At the same time, we are expected to create stories that transcend the limits of previous tales and break new ground with our craft. If we stray too much on one side, our work becomes derivative. Too far the other way and we run the risk that no one will understand what we are talking about. How do we deal with this balancing act and produce art? I have a theory, but before I explain that, it might be helpful to start with some definitions.

Genre Definitions and Examples

Genre: Broadly speaking, genre is a category of art formed by specific conventions. Fictional genres include traditional categories like mystery and romance and newer concepts like YA and slasher horror.  There are also sub-genres within most of the major genres. For example, thriller is a very large genre that includes legal thrillers, spy thrillers, medical thrillers and many others.

Convention: The conventions in genre fiction are certain standards of storytelling. They can be defined by location (westerns), levels of activity (action adventure vs. cozy mystery), expected emotional impact (romance or horror), type of protagonist (crime or YA), or definition of reality itself within the story (fantasy and science fiction). Within each genre, the interpretation of the conventions can vary wildly. For example, Ian Fleming, John Le Carre and Tom Clancy are all pillars of the spy thriller genre, but each one approached the conventions from very different perspectives with very different results.

Cliché:  is an expression, idea, or element which has become overused to the point of losing its original meaning to become trite or irritating. You are probably all too familiar with the clichés within your genre. The unearthly beauty of the vampire, the maverick FBI/ CIA/ former SEAL of the thriller and the naïve young girl of the historical romance can all fall into cliché because some writers have abused the convention and robbed it of its vitality.

From my perspective, the dilemma lies in how we play with and manipulate the conventions of genre without slipping into cliché. It would be hard to set a western story in modern day Manhattan or have a vampire story where no one sucked blood (or anything else), but how do we differentiate our work from all the other books, TV shows, movies and other stories in our genre that came before us?

I have two ideas. They aren’t really original, but I believe they can help us create work that is.

Creative Combinations

The idea behind creative combinations is that unique concepts can come from the blending of different genres. The resulting work contains more of a unique flavor because the conventions of one genre play off and against the conventions of the other. Examples that I’m familiar with include the criminal fantasy of Thieves World, alternative historical psychological thrillers like The Alienist, criminal horror like Grendel and sci-fi cop stories like Blade Runner and Alien Nation. My latest novel A Taste of Honey is an attempt to combine the crime and spy genres in the tradition of The Usual Suspects, The Way of the Gun and Miami Vice.

The good news about this method is that it allows the writer to combine whichever genres appeal to her, so she doesn’t have to sacrifice her interests for her craft. The bad news is that even with the broad number of combinations that are possible, most of them have already been explored in one form or another, so creative combinations serve as a stop gap measure at best.

Evolution of the Art

The best use of genre is to transcend the conventions to bring the craft into a new era. Writers who understand their genre completely have the chance to redefine the conventions and the genre itself.

Star Wars is the example that comes to mind first. The film at its heart is a monomyth that blends elements of fantasy and science fiction. I’m sure that has already been done before, but I don’t think it’s been done to a level this potent. Star Wars played on standard tropes to become synonymous with space opera. The knights of fantasy stories became Jedi and Sith. The science fiction trope of lasers became lightsabers. The fantasy concept of good and evil itself became personified in the Force.  If you want an idea of how successful genre manipulation can be, look no further than Darth Vader and his friends.

Robert McKee said that genres are useful to writers because they help shape and define our creations into “knowable worlds”. A story that tries to contain too many concepts, too many characters and too many conventions is quickly overcome by cliché. Our job then is to know our genre conventions through research and practice. Our goal can then be breaking from the convention to take our genres into unexplored territory or to create a new genre altogether.

So how do you use genre in your work? Please leave a comment and let me know.

Have fun.
Gamal

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Levels of Conflict: Hitting Your Hero From All Sides

by Gamal Hennessy

The vast majority of all fictional plots boils down to a struggle to achieve a goal. A protagonist has an object of desire that is material or situational. To get what she wants, your heroine has to exert effort against everything that stands between her and her goal. The power and intensity of her obstacles will define both your heroine and the strength of your story. But where do those obstacles come from and how can we build them into the story in a way that tests the heroine in the most satisfying manner? One answer lies in playing with the different levels of conflict.

Three Levels of Conflict
A level of conflict is a source of antagonism that stands between your protagonist and their goal. Robert McKee's book Story defines three major levels of conflict:

• Internal: where the thoughts, feelings or physical characteristics of a protagonist block achievement of the goal
• Interpersonal: where relationships with other people or groups block achievement
• Extra-personal: where institutions, natural phenomenon and situations block achievement

To put this into perspective, let's say you're writing a story about a boy named Adam living in Jerusalem. Adam has just seen a beautiful Arab girl and in that moment decides that he is in love. What obstacles does Adam face in his quest for a relationship? As a writer, you have several options:

• Internal: Adam's shyness, lack of experience with women and unattractive features get in the way of his budding romance. 
• Interpersonal: The girl might resist his advances for her own reasons, or she might have another suitor who wants to remove Adam from the picture. Also, Adam's parents could try to prevent him from getting involved with an Arab girl. The girl's brothers might threaten him with violence.  His own friends might reject him.
• Extra-personal: The wider Arab Israeli conflict could also inhibit our hero. Hezbollah bombings into the settlements could disrupt Adam's life or create a curfew situation. A suicide bomb could destroy everything or even kill the girl. Protests, strikes or other mass social events could tear their relationship apart before it even gets started.

This is just a few examples of what Adam is up against. If he is able to win this girl's love, the obstacles he'll have to overcome could make an amazing story.

The Different Directions of Conflict

After you determine the conflict against your hero, you have three main choices when deciding on the direction you’d like to go with each one:

• Broad: where the protagonist has to deal with conflict on each level, either at once or simultaneously
• Deep: where the conflict is primarily on one level, but the impact on that level is this hammers at the core of the character
• Compound: where the conflicts are both broad and deep and the hero fights intense battles on all fronts to achieve their goal.

The direction you choose is often a function of genre. An action adventure might have heavy interpersonal and extra personal conflict when the hero battles the arch villain on the top of a mountain in a blinding snow storm. A cozy mystery might have strong internal focus as the detective quietly strains her intellect to solve the crime. Every style of writing can tap into each type of conflict, but some genres lend themselves to specific conflict types.

Conflict as Spotlight

The best way I've found to develop conflict in my work is to focus on the aspects of my protagonist that I want to reveal and then creating conflicts that explore those traits. One of my main characters is a young woman named Nikki. She wants the affection of her mentor and lover Chris. To show her dedication to this goal, I put several obstacles in her path in the first twenty five pages of the book.

Nikki has to deal with the extra personal danger of spying on the Russian mafia for Chris. She has to face the interpersonal roadblocks of abusive teammates. The internal doubt she has about who Chris really is and her own feelings for him create the largest source of conflict. As the story progresses, each level of conflict deepens and interacts with the others to build a story that reveals Nikki's true character as the narrative unfolds. (See Creating Complex Characters)

The best stories have the strongest conflicts. While it's not necessary to throw every obstacle at every character in every story, a weak story is most often the result of weak antagonists. Pit your heroine against the strongest combination of antagonism that you can think of. Your readers will thank you for it.

Have fun.
Gamal

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Analysis of Story Structure Part 1: The Chapter

by Gamal Hennessy

Exploring the building blocks of story is a helpful exercise in the development of any novel. Writers who plot can use this technique to help map a story’s progression (See Building a Better Story Part 3: Plot Construction). Discovery Writers can use it during their rewrite phase to understand how the story developed. They can also use it to modify elements that might inhibit the flow of the narrative. (See Plot vs Pants: Which Road Do You Choose?) This essay will look at the second level of story structure, the chapter. I plan to discuss beats, sequences, acts and sequels in later posts.

Disclaimer: The foundation of this method comes from the screenwriting book, Story.  I've modified it slightly for my own personal use.

The Story within a Story

In an ideal scenario a chapter is a miniature version of a story. It has all the structural components of a full novel in a compact form (See Building a Better Novel Part 2: The Narrative Framework). The goal of these ”mini stories” two fold; we want to move the story forward and reveal aspects of the characters. These goals are achieved when each chapter alters the condition of the characters on some level. The change can be minor or major. The change can be positive, negative or a bit of both. The change can be internal, interpersonal or extra personal. But in almost all cases, we need to create some change that drives the overall narrative and shows us who the characters are (See Creating Characters We Want to Know)

Felt but Not Seen

When the structure of a story works well it is similar to the structure of a building. People can enjoy the effects without thinking about or even noticing the details. For example, I work in an office building every day. The only time I notice the structure of the building itself is when something doesn't work. The same concept applies in your story. If a casual reader is picking out each element in your narrative, then they are not fully engaged in the story. Of course, a fellow writer might look at your story structure in the same way a building engineer instinctively looks at the working of a building. The casual reader shouldn't notice those things.

The Elements of a Chapter

I identify five fundamental structural elements in any chapter in a story.

• POV: This gives the reader the emotional perspective that you want them to follow and understand (See Managing Emotional Points of View) 
• Situation: This orients the reader in time and space, giving them an understanding of the character’s relationship to their world 
• Desire: This expresses what the POV characters want, whether it is their ultimate goal in the story or just a step that brings them closer to that goal. 
• Beats: The sequence of action and reaction designed to dramatize conflict.
• Turning Point: The action or revelation that changes the condition of the POV character
• Outcome: The result of the character's pursuit of desire. The outcome in most chapters plays a role in the situation and desire of the next chapter.

Example

The chapter structure does not require anything long, elaborate or convoluted. Consider this:

Jacob stormed up to the trailer with his Louisville slugger clutched tight in his gnarled fist. Lucky wanted to put his dirty paws on Ella? Let's see him try that with broken fingers. Jacob banged the handle of the bat on the flimsy door. It felt good to do that. If Lucky didn't open it and open it fast, it would only take a couple of swings to knock it down. Jacob had a mind to tear down the whole damn trailer.

Jacob never fired a shotgun before, but he knew the sound it made before it went off. His aunt Tee said it was a sound God created to drive off the spineless. Jacob wasn't spineless. He wasn't stupid either. The click clak of the shotgun on the other side of Lucky's door sent him diving for the mud. Splinters rained down on him. All the sound got sucked out of his ears. Jacob swallowed hard to keep his heart and his lunch from shooting up into his throat and choking him to death. Then he moved his ass.

Jacob scrambled away from the trailer on his hands and knees. He forgot about the Louisville slugger. He wasn't gonna get Ella back from Lucky with that.

My hope is that you can not only see the basic elements in that passage, but that you were also entertained enough to ignore the structure while you were reading.

Exposition and Non Events

If the goal of a chapter is moving the story forward and revealing character through conflict then there are two ways that a chapter can fail on a structural level. The first problem is referred to as exposition. This occurs if a recitation of facts is placed in a narrative for any reason other than the progress of conflict in the story. For example, in the recent series of Batman films, Bruce Wayne inherits a multi-billion dollar enterprise that seemingly built, controls and pays for most of Gotham City. No attempt is ever made to explain where this money comes from or even how much money he has. This wasn't left out because it's a "comic book movie". It's left out because it has nothing to do with telling the story. It is exposition that needs to be left out.

The second problem is the related issue of a non-event. This occurs when the condition of the characters in the end of the chapter is the same as it was in the beginning. These are the mundane events that provide no insight into the character and don't move the story along either. This is why as writers we leave out every shower, meal and bathroom break that doesn't directly impact the story. Sitting down to eat a ham sandwich often doesn't have a turning point, unless the meal is transcendent.

Stealing this for Your Own Purposes

If you want to look at the structure of your chapters, all you have to do is answer the following questions of each chapter in isolation:

1. Who is this chapter about?
2. Where are they in the story?
3. What do they want?
4. How do they try to get what they want?
5. Who or what tries to stop them?
6. Do they succeed or fail? What is the outcome?

Do you think this kind of analysis is helpful for your fiction? Do you already do something like this, or do you have your own method? Please leave a comment and let me know.

Have fun.
Gamal