Recently I have been thinking a lot about character development, for the purpose of making my lead an actual person to the people who read what I write. After about an hour of reading, I found a lot of helpful advice. But not a whole lot of it was about morals, and I can't recall any of it that was specifically about moral choices a character has to make. So here I am to give you never-before heard advice, as far as I can tell.
In the first chapter, something has to happen, your main character should have to make a choice. (This doesn't always happen, but it's advisable that it does.) That choice must have a reason behind it, and the same choice has to be made for a reason. If there is, indeed, such a choice, it should be of a moral significance, even if only slightly. And your lead should make the questionable or wrong decision.
Think about it: if you really have to make a tough decision, more often than not, you would make the right one. Maybe you would regret it, maybe you would make it for questionable reasons, but it would still be the right decision. When you really have to think about something, and yet you still make the wrong (moral) decision, that shows a lot more about your character.
It is a rare occurrence when someone really has to think hard about a choice, and then makes the wrong one (talking about morals, not life decisions).
Everyone has something that they spend a lot of energy, thought, effort, research, money, time, relationships, friendships, or sanity trying to hide. That one deep, dark corner of their heart. And yet, the wrong moral decisions they make give you a glimpse into that inner person.
With all that said, the never-before heard advice is: your lead character should, in some chapter of your novel, make the wrong moral decision. Preferably, this paradox of creating a likable character would occur within the first or second chapters of your amazing story you have to tell the world. But it still should be there.
It doesn't even have to be the wrong decision. It could just be the questionable one. For example, do you get fired from work and chase the guy who just robbed a store, or do you leave it to the police? If that's a tough decision for your main character to make, the reader knows more about him than if it never occurred to him to help the store owner.
Just remember that thoughtful, yet wrong decisions on the part of your lead can help develop him or her so much more than the right ones, or none at all.
I say this at the end of every blog post, but thank you for your time. It comes in short supply these days, and I appreciate your willingness to lend me such a valuable currency. Thank you.
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Book Review: Master of the World by Jules Verne
Nowadays, not many stories or novels have moral lessons hidden in the ink. But all the classics do. Jules Verne's novel Master of the World, which he published about a year before he died, is no exception. It's a fantastic story that also serves as a lesson in pride and power.
It's an event story, with very (very) strong elements of idea. It begins when a mountain in South Carolina is suspected of being a volcano. The news goes wild, the locals freak out, but no one can get a look at its crater. The news dies down, of course, because eventually it becomes old. Shortly after that, however, an incredibly swift automobile is seen, and the news picks up on that. Another very fast vehicle, a boat, shows up, and the news writes about those for a while. However, when a fast submarine is discovered soon after that, one newspaper hypothesizes that all the machines are one and the same. This is widely accepted, and happens to be correct.
The main character, a detective, is one of the most thoughtful characters in literary history, and what's better is that he has a right to be, because he's a detective. He is the eyes through which we are given the main moral lesson delivered through the book, that of power and pride. In the novel, a single man has an incredible vehicle, and he makes sure that everyone in the world knows it. After a while, the public is so terrified, yet in awe, of the mysterious vehicle that many governments offer very large sums of money in order to own the machine. The prices offered go up and up, until finally the inventor puts a notice in the newspaper that he refuses all offers.
But he doesn't stop at that: he says that "with [the vehicle], I hold control of the entire world, and there lies no force within the reach of humanity which is able to resist me, under any circumstances whatsoever." If the public had been hysterical before, it was nothing compared to what the reaction was after the letter was published. That's when the main character is called to arrest the driver of the vehicle. And he gets close. I don't want to spoil the ending, but it's a surprising one.
The monopoly of power in relation to the public is the most obvious, and the least subtle of the moral lessons: everyone wanted it. When they couldn't have it, they still wanted it; when it was a threat, they wanted it destroyed. The power was so far advanced, they had no way of even addressing it. However, it was not simply the love of power that drove their desires; it was the pride of having power, being associated with it. When the public's prideful love of power couldn't be applied, they wanted the power gone. Also, they were more than just a little bit scared.
To put it in a more modern light, it would be as though someone had singlehandedly mastered interstellar travel, teleportation, and nuclear fusion - and put them all into one vehicle. People would have mixed reactions; they would be terrified, yes, but if the owner were benevolent, it would be slightly less terrifying, and they would hope that the latter was the reality. Governments would probably make a lot of stupid decisions trying to get it, because they want power. The pride of owning the machine, the reputation it would bring, would flare brighter than the rational fear (so Verne predicted).
However, Jules Verne shows quite effectively that governments would not be alone in their desire; the people would want the machine as well. In his novel, the citizens knew very well that the millions of dollars offered for the new vehicle would be taken from their tax dollars. But they didn't mind, because of both national pride and the hunger for that kind of self-image, the association with power.
The power and pride in relation to the driver/inventor of the vehicle, the self-proclaimed "Master of the World," is a little more intricate and implied. The inventor is a very intelligent man, and obviously a master technician. He could have made millions, if not billions, by using his talents across multiple industries. Instead, he wanted to rule the world. Why?
In the prequel to Master of the World (yes, there's a prequel, and it's called Robur the Conqueror) he had already put himself above the rest of humanity (pride). He had a new and innovative flying machine, and he decided that society wasn't ready for it, because of their love for power. They would, he figured, use it for their own personal and destructive gain. He didn't want that, so he flew away and didn't reveal his secret.
So basically, he already knew that his judgment skills were better than everyone else's, that he was less selfish, and that he was just a better person. This turned into hypocrisy, to the point where he decided that since society was so degraded and behind him, they needed a guiding ruler, who would tell them how to do better, and who could do whatever he wanted. His pride, his love of power, got in the way of his judgment. This is, in the end, what made things that much more difficult for him.
And that's really what happened with society and government: their pride in their image and love of power, the sense that they could do things better, led them to make decisions that very well could have made things worse. The only difference is that things didn't actually get worse, the perception got worse. The "Master of the World" wasn't so lucky, but you'll have to read the book.
Should you read this book? Yes. It's short, it's a good read, and I only scratched the surface of Verne's moral lessons in the book. And it's free. Get it, read it, and see for yourself if it's a good lesson in morals and society.
I appreciate that you read to the end. If you disagree, or think this was a terrible review, or think I'm as dumb as a horse, let me know in the comments so I can disagree with you. Thanks!
It's an event story, with very (very) strong elements of idea. It begins when a mountain in South Carolina is suspected of being a volcano. The news goes wild, the locals freak out, but no one can get a look at its crater. The news dies down, of course, because eventually it becomes old. Shortly after that, however, an incredibly swift automobile is seen, and the news picks up on that. Another very fast vehicle, a boat, shows up, and the news writes about those for a while. However, when a fast submarine is discovered soon after that, one newspaper hypothesizes that all the machines are one and the same. This is widely accepted, and happens to be correct.
The main character, a detective, is one of the most thoughtful characters in literary history, and what's better is that he has a right to be, because he's a detective. He is the eyes through which we are given the main moral lesson delivered through the book, that of power and pride. In the novel, a single man has an incredible vehicle, and he makes sure that everyone in the world knows it. After a while, the public is so terrified, yet in awe, of the mysterious vehicle that many governments offer very large sums of money in order to own the machine. The prices offered go up and up, until finally the inventor puts a notice in the newspaper that he refuses all offers.
But he doesn't stop at that: he says that "with [the vehicle], I hold control of the entire world, and there lies no force within the reach of humanity which is able to resist me, under any circumstances whatsoever." If the public had been hysterical before, it was nothing compared to what the reaction was after the letter was published. That's when the main character is called to arrest the driver of the vehicle. And he gets close. I don't want to spoil the ending, but it's a surprising one.
The monopoly of power in relation to the public is the most obvious, and the least subtle of the moral lessons: everyone wanted it. When they couldn't have it, they still wanted it; when it was a threat, they wanted it destroyed. The power was so far advanced, they had no way of even addressing it. However, it was not simply the love of power that drove their desires; it was the pride of having power, being associated with it. When the public's prideful love of power couldn't be applied, they wanted the power gone. Also, they were more than just a little bit scared.
To put it in a more modern light, it would be as though someone had singlehandedly mastered interstellar travel, teleportation, and nuclear fusion - and put them all into one vehicle. People would have mixed reactions; they would be terrified, yes, but if the owner were benevolent, it would be slightly less terrifying, and they would hope that the latter was the reality. Governments would probably make a lot of stupid decisions trying to get it, because they want power. The pride of owning the machine, the reputation it would bring, would flare brighter than the rational fear (so Verne predicted).
However, Jules Verne shows quite effectively that governments would not be alone in their desire; the people would want the machine as well. In his novel, the citizens knew very well that the millions of dollars offered for the new vehicle would be taken from their tax dollars. But they didn't mind, because of both national pride and the hunger for that kind of self-image, the association with power.
The power and pride in relation to the driver/inventor of the vehicle, the self-proclaimed "Master of the World," is a little more intricate and implied. The inventor is a very intelligent man, and obviously a master technician. He could have made millions, if not billions, by using his talents across multiple industries. Instead, he wanted to rule the world. Why?
In the prequel to Master of the World (yes, there's a prequel, and it's called Robur the Conqueror) he had already put himself above the rest of humanity (pride). He had a new and innovative flying machine, and he decided that society wasn't ready for it, because of their love for power. They would, he figured, use it for their own personal and destructive gain. He didn't want that, so he flew away and didn't reveal his secret.
So basically, he already knew that his judgment skills were better than everyone else's, that he was less selfish, and that he was just a better person. This turned into hypocrisy, to the point where he decided that since society was so degraded and behind him, they needed a guiding ruler, who would tell them how to do better, and who could do whatever he wanted. His pride, his love of power, got in the way of his judgment. This is, in the end, what made things that much more difficult for him.
And that's really what happened with society and government: their pride in their image and love of power, the sense that they could do things better, led them to make decisions that very well could have made things worse. The only difference is that things didn't actually get worse, the perception got worse. The "Master of the World" wasn't so lucky, but you'll have to read the book.
Should you read this book? Yes. It's short, it's a good read, and I only scratched the surface of Verne's moral lessons in the book. And it's free. Get it, read it, and see for yourself if it's a good lesson in morals and society.
I appreciate that you read to the end. If you disagree, or think this was a terrible review, or think I'm as dumb as a horse, let me know in the comments so I can disagree with you. Thanks!
Friday, September 12, 2014
The Different Types of Stories (and how it should affect your writing)
There are a lot of different ways to look at stories. Seriously, a lot. I've only known four or five of them, but I've seen many more than that. In this post, I will give you the Story Structure Theory that has helped me the most in my work as an author.I won't be so arrogant as to claim that this is the best of all the systems. Nor will I take credit for something I didn't invent. This blog post is a shameless summary of Orson Scott Card's ideas, which I think are fantastic.
He sets up four story types: Milieu, idea, character, and event. They've helped my writing improve, and I hope they do the same for you. I'll go over each of these story types and give examples, starting with milieu.
Milieu literally means "a person's social environment." So, a milieu-type story will focus on the world around a character, whether it be social (for things like romance or thrillers) or aesthetical (for sci-fi/fantasy). It is the world itself, the society, the weather, the MC's family, and basically every element that pops out when you create the world in the first place.
Every story has a world, a person's environment, but in this particular type of story it is what the author focuses on, what they write about the most. There can be a good standard plot line with things happening and so on, but those won't be as strong as the world the author creates. I haven't read for myself, but I've heard that author Hugh Howey creates milieus very well.
Milieu structures are, in essence: an common observer with our same perspective gets to the new/strange/different place, observes things, is changed by what he sees (positively or negatively), and then returns as a different person. Milieus don't have to just be the trees and the grass; they can be the evil emperor who constantly sends out his minions to attack the protagonist. Or a milieu could be the odd weather in a place.
A good example of this played out in a book would be Gulliver's Travels, or even Planet of the Apes. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is a good example: the story doesn't end when Dorothy kills the witch. It ends when she goes back to Kansas.
Second, there is idea. This story type is about characters who look for, and eventually find, new information (or make discoveries). To quote OSC himself, "The idea story begins by raising a question; it ends when the question is answered."
I think it would be safe to say that nearly all mystery stories follow this structure. The beginning question is "who committed this crime?" and the book ends when the question is answered. Other types of stories can follow this line as well; for example, raising the question "how did Ancient Rome fall?" and ending with the author's opinion, or just a good or interesting explanation.
The character type of story is quite common today. It focuses on the changing of a character's role in the places that matter most. Sure, in one sense, almost every story is "about" one or more characters. However, most stories are not about who the character really is. Character type stories are.
OSC words it very well, so I'll quote him again: "The story begins at the moment when the main character becomes so unhappy, impatient or angry in her present role that she begins the process of change; it ends when the character either settles into a new role (happily or not) or gives up the struggle and remains in the old role (happily or not)."
The Hunger Games has a strong character element to it, as does Stowaway by Karen Hesse. Captain Nemo in the book 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea follows this type of story, though the book itself does not.
Finally, we have event. This may just be the most common of all the structures, and it's probably the one that most people will want to write.
The story starts with the universe out of order (to put it a little drastically). Something is wrong. This could be the One Ring being re-discovered and a powerful adversary reappearing (LOTR), a boy being transported into another world that is tyrannized by an evil wizard (Beyonders: A World Without Heroes), a father's empire dissolving and family wealth disappearing (Artemis Fowl), or the murder of a King by his brother (Hamlet). All of these have a world where things are generally good - and then they get bad. The rest of the story focuses on the protagonist attempting to put things right.
The event story ends when a new order is put into place or, in some cases, when everything goes back to being exactly the way it used to be, or, in a select few cases, when the "good guys" fail, the world goes into chaos, and all order is destroyed.
The story starts not at the point when the world becomes disordered, but rather at the point when the main character becomes involved. This is why it is rarely a good idea to write a prologue, and you should avoid it at all costs: the main character is the focus more than anything. You should know from experience that people tend to skip the prologues, and even if they don't, it will subtract from the rest of the experience of the MC's struggles and triumphs.
So, how should this affect your writing? To start, each story has every element in it. Your book, your short story, your film project, etc. automatically has an idea, or a question that should be answered, a milieu around your character where a bad event happens.
Now, not all stories have a particular focus. Maybe you decide that your story best falls under the idea and event structures, and you don't want to change it. As long as you're making sure to look past your own ideas, that's fine. (But if you can, try to narrow it down to one major genre.)
Something I found in my own story is that for the first half or so, it was more idea-focused. There was nothing particularly wrong with the world at first. Then it changed into more of an event-based story. I have yet to hear from my beta readers if that's a good idea or not, but so far they've told me they're intrigued. As long as you keep the story moving, you can't really go wrong when you're not writing blindfolded.
Well, that's it. Thank you so much for your time, and I hope this was helpful!
P.S. There's something really exciting that I've been gearing up for for a while: about once every other week, I'll do a book review. I'll start with the lesser-known or lesser-read classics, and then do some more modern writing. This is one reason I blogged about this, so you understand what you're reading when it comes to those reviews.
I'm also going to post a short story once a month, hopefully. I'm really excited about that too. I'm not sure what I'm going to do first, but I do know that it will most likely be adventure (without any magic or over-the-top tech).
Thank you for your support!
Monday, September 8, 2014
Don't Write Blindfolded

If you have started, this post is for you. From my experience as a writer and from the experiences of other writers I know, you've probably not just started one book. You're on your third, or your eighth, or you one hundred and sixty-fourth. Whatever number it is, you're probably not just working on your first. Why?
Because you got bored. Or because the story wasn't coming to you. Or because you lost inspiration. Or because you got a better idea. Or all of these. But these all have the same problem: you're writing blindfolded.
What I mean is that you don't have a plan. There is no goal to your story, and you don't intend for there to be one. You just have a bunch of cool characters, maybe some awesome gadgets or intriguing wizards. You've created mansions, huts, shacks, cars, streets, skyscrapers, entire worlds in your head. It's exciting at first, but when you lose inspiration, or when it gets old, you move on. But it can be fixed.
The easiest way to fix all this is to add a goal. What is your character doing in the skyscrapers, why is the group afraid of the bad guys, and why do we care that a side-character betrayed the main character?
We care because the main character is a vigilante, looking for his parents that the FBI took when he was fourteen. Or because Jim stole the plans for the new super-spaceship and gave them to the communists.
The more difficult way, especially because you've already started writing, is to plan it all out. Now, this doesn't work for everyone, including some famous authors, but it worked for me and many others. Probably most others.
So, plan it all out? That sounds tedious. It can be, if you plan each and every detail. All I mean is that you should have ideas of scenes. The MC goes to Paris, gets caught by the police for doing something wrong, goes to prison, escapes with another man, and they take over the French air force to attack the killer robots.
That's a little bit of a ridiculous example, but you get the point: each scene, not each time your character breathes. Be careful to remember that the story still needs a goal.
Not all stories need goals, but those are few and far between, and take a particularly good author. I'll cover the types of stories and plots later this week or early next week. For now, just try to find a goal, a reason for your character to do anything, in your story. You might be surprised.
Thank you for your time, as always.
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