THE LOGIC OF FICTION

By Sharon May

Almost 40 years ago, workers in a small town in Kentucky uncovered human bones. The next day, a retired sheriff confessed to the county attorney that he had buried a teen-aged friend near that site during World War II. Carbon dating revealed the bones were of Indian descent, and thus, could not be those of his friend. The former sheriff then recanted, stating that he was drunk when he confessed and probably was retelling bits and pieces of cases he worked.

I heard the recording of his confession, and to this day remember his excitement as he described the car in which he rode to the bootleg joint. His voice cracked with fear as he recounted the walk up the riverbank at gun point as he was forced to bury his friend. I heard the truth of his words, and felt compelled to tell his story.

All would have been fine if I were a journalist. Then I could have just reported the facts, and my job would have been done. But I wanted to write a novel about the sheriff and tried numerous times to find the narrative voice and the plot to tell the events of 1943 along with those of 1987.

A few years ago, I wrote a novella-length draft of the “truth.” But the sheriff I discovered in that draft wouldn’t have recanted once he took the risk to tell. The fear that quietened him at 16 was as real 35 years later. If Lafe had faced that fear and confessed, there would have been no going back. He was a man of his word. The conflict for him was whether to confess at all. To make the best story, my novel could not rely totally on the events as I experienced them.

How can something taken from reality not work in fiction? I mean, it’s real right? William Dean Howells, in the late 1800s, argued that realistic fiction is not only possible but that it required of writers. He believed reality could be captured by relying on the five senses and focusing on the ethical and moral dilemmas of the characters. But the Realistic movement gave way to Modernism and Post-modernism, both of which recognize the artifice of fiction.

Just because fiction is artificial doesn’t mean that it doesn’t work logically. Even Magical Realism and science fiction have physical and metaphysical rules that operate in the story.  

Readers expect a world that makes sense no matter how bizarre that world is. The story needs logic so that readers can envision and believe the plot. Characters’ actions and motivations have to be plausible. Conflicts need to be tangible and create angst and fear of the unknown for the reader as well as the characters. All of that creates a world with meaning, one a reader wants to visit.

After years of rumination and revision, I realized fiction doesn’t have adhere to reality, but it does have to ring true.

 

  

The Latest Addition

Meet a New Columbia II Blogger

NICK ROLON

I dedicate my first blog post to my mother, Teresa, who has been battling brain cancer for nearly  three years. She has been an inspiration as she has hand-written over 3,000 cards during her life with notes of hope, thanks, and goodness to others.

I earned a bachelor’s degree in Sociology from John Jay College, New York City, and was a staff member of its newspaper The Lex Review. I have spent over 30 years in the retail industry. Sharon, my supportive wife, and I have two adorable dogs, Tucker and Madison. In addition, I have been active in many charities during the last 35 years including the March of Dimes, St. Jude's Children's research hospital, Adam Walsh Center, DARE programs, Kiwanis club, and many local good-news community initiatives. My favorite book/movie is The Natural starring Robert Redford.

Nick's first blog post on this page follows.

THE GIFT OF WRITING

By Nick Rolon         

Writer Somerset Maugham, once said “If you can tell stories, create characters, devise incidents, and have sincerity and passion…It doesn’t matter dammit how you write.”

At 50 years old, I woke up one morning and decided I wanted to re-new a passion I left behind in college over 31 years ago. I had spent a majority of my life dedicated to my career, leaving little time for the important things in life. I hope this blog post will inspire others to “Just Write” – cards, letters, short stories, blogs, social media posts, novels, even a simple post-it note. 

I had been a member of our college newspaper staff and enjoyed contributing articles of social issues, school events, and our sports news. I had always enjoyed writing since elementary school but after college I stopped. That passion was replaced with the fast moving train of life we all experience.

Recently, a group of friends gave me a list of organizations and associations in South Carolina including music, photography, athletics, cooking and then I spotted the South Carolina Writers Association (myscwa.org).   I went to the website, signed up, paid my annual dues, and began attending the Columbia II workshops in November 2018. 

As a novice, I was nervous about attending my first few workshops as I listened to the readings of outstanding writers.  I was amazed with the talent and creativity of the members.  But I heard a common message from everyone around the table, “Just Write.”

The group echoed “We all started writing at some point and it will become easier over time.” Their words of encouragement motivated me and on my second workshop meeting I was able to write six pages of a story about my dogs Tucker and Madison. I received constructive feedback from Ginny Padgett and the Columbia II writers that attended the November 19^th workshop. This motivated me to continue writing and writing without fear.

I was fortunate to have had Flora Rheta Schreiber as my college English professor. She was a writer and author of several books including the non-fiction book, Sybil, which covered the treatment of Sybil Dorsett (a pseudonym for Shirley Ardell Mason) for a dissociative identity disorder (up to 16 different personalities). After spending seven years writing the book, she was published in 1973 and soon the book became a best seller and a TV movie.

I remember Mrs. Schreiber emphasizing the importance of keeping the writing simple to help readers understand the story.  She would walk the classroom aisles, look you in the eye, and say, “Writing is a gift everyone can give; empower yourself with the ability to positively impact the lives of others through your words.”

This holiday season make time to write a note of thanks to someone you love; write a story you always wanted to share; partner with your spouse or child and write what brings happiness to the home; or just doodle on some scrap paper. As J.K Rowlings will tell you, maybe someday that scrap paper will wind up in the Smithsonian Institute.

Several great examples of writing this holiday season include the poem, “The Night Before Christmas” which was published anonymously in 1823 and the letter written by 8 year-old Virginia O’Hanlon, to the editor of the New York Sun on September 21, 1897 titled “Is there a Santa Claus?”

I wanted to provide the letter to the Sun editor and the response to show the compassion and positive influence the gift of writing has on society:

“Dear Editor

I am eight years old – some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.  Papa says If you see it in the Sun it’s so.  Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?

Virginia O’Hanlon

115 W. 95^th Street”

Please open the link to see the original response from the Editor of the NY Sun in 1897.

PROPPING UP the MIDDLE

By Kasie Whitener

On last week’s episode of Write On SC, we discussed the challenge of writing the middle of the story.

Often, as writers, we are inspired to write the beginning when some specific inciting incident catches our interest. My vampire novel begins with Lord Byron being rescued by a vampire. My GenX novel begins with Brian learning his best friend is dead. I’ve started short stories with a character recognizing a high school classmate in a magazine, making eye contact with an old lover across a lobby, and pulling into the driveway of a ski cabin on a summer night.

The beginning sometimes feels easy. Or sometimes we draft the beginning and decide during revision to start the story earlier or later. The beginning answers specific questions like, “What makes this day significant?” and “Why are we seeing this character now?”

Sometimes it’s the ending that comes easy.

The inevitable outcome of the vampire novel is that the protagonist will murder the woman he loves. Brian must return to San Francisco after burying his friend. And in the short stories: a football game ends in defeat, a couple agrees to stay committed even while the woman takes an overseas assignment, and power is restored to a community after a Derecho allows an old woman to relish the freedom of being alone.

The ending is where we’re headed and usually writers know where we’re going before the story even begins. The ending can feel inevitable, can feel like closure, and can feel satisfying.

But what happens in between?

What happens between rescuing Lord Byron and killing his sister? Between learning the best friend is dead and letting him go?

The middle of the story is where a lot of writers get stuck. We struggle to line up a good progression of action and settle for a series of conversations. We fail to escalate the action and settle for a series of events that all have the same ebb and flow. We fail to select the most relevant scenes and cut the superfluous chatter from the story.

The middle is also where we lose momentum. We know the beginning is compelling and we know where want to go, but the middle may sag or stall.

What I loved about that Write On SC episode was all the different suggestions for how to prop up the middle of the story. I found this resource and this one, too. Both offer advice for adding the necessary action, tension, and escalation you need to drag the reader through all those long pages before the climactic end.

I immediately went home and looked at each of my stories with a more critical lens. Specifically, I applied these actions to the short stories:

1) listed each scene by what action occurred in it;

2) evaluated whether the actions got progressively dramatic;

3) re-organized the series of actions to ensure they were progressing, and

4) raised the stakes in each scene.

Stories are not compelling without action, tension, and escalation. The middle of the story is where these progressions occur. Taking care to craft the middle of the story can help you ensure your reader’s journey is as compelling at the protagonist’s.

For more craft talk and South Carolina writers, listen live on Saturdays at 9 a.m. at makethepointradio.com or visit our podcast channel on simplecast.

ESCAPIST LITERATURE SHOULD BE MOSTLY ESCAPISM

By Rex Hurst

Now while this statement seems almost self-evident, it’s practically a tautology, I’ve noticed a current trend in the traditional genres of escapism (Fantasy, Superhero, & Science Fiction) have become more and more preachy, as if they’re using the medium to talk down and “educate” the idiot masses. Sometimes it’s a smug little quip about some “social justice” issue. More and more it’s been almost feature length “messages” horned into previously popular franchises.

For me the breaking point was a recent episode of Dr. Who. The new Doctor, in a female incarnation, meets Rosa Parks- not so bad in itself – but most of the episode, 55 minutes in length, was spent of lecturing the clueless companions (and through them, us the idiot audience) all about the Civil Rights era – a lot of which was incorrect or way too condensed. The actual “story” took up about fifteen minutes of time and revolved around some racist from the future coming back in time to knock Rosa Parks off before she could sit at the front of the bus. Not an alien who happened to be around at that time, maybe trying to get home, maybe dealing with similar issues on their own planet. No it was some cookie-cutter red-faced racist who wanted to destroy Rosa Parks. Why? Because he’s evil, that’s why. What more do you need to know, you racist! The entire endeavor was as subtle as a sledgehammer.

The purpose of these escapist genres was to allow the reader to cast their minds away from the nonsense of the world. For the reader to believe that the biggest evil in the world could be cured by throwing a magic ring into a volcano, that there was no problem too big for Superman to handle, that only a spaceship ride away was a world of adventure and beautiful green-skinned women. The escape from reality is why all of these genres became popular in the first place. People want to leave the world and have fun.

That isn’t to say, you cannot talk about social issues in your story. Take a look at any issue of the X-Men from the 1980s (the Claremont era for those in the know) and you will see a message of tolerance for those who are different from you. Somehow this straight, white, male author managed to place this message without disrupting the story or being preachy.

How did he do this? By putting the escapism and story first. If you are working in the fantasy, science fiction, horror, or superhero genre and the purpose of your tale is to push forward an ideological message, then you have a clunker on your hands. Stick to being outraged on Twitter. In escapist genres, the world, the oddity, the break from reality, has to come first. People don’t want a lecture, they want to see something beyond the norm. If you can’t deliver then, more onto a different type of writing.