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Using the 3-Act Structure: Adjusting Expectations

Most writers use a 3-act structure and for good reason. It works.

• Act 1:
  25% of the length, sets up the story conflict and ends when the main character (MC) commits to doing something about the conflict.
• Act 2:
  50% of the length, develops and deepens the conflict and ends when the main character begins to make a last, heroic effort to solve the problem.
• Act 3:
  25% of length, is the last attempt to solve the problem and eventually ends in either success or failure (tragedy).

Top-heavy manuscripts fall over!

Somehow, in all the revisions, the structure has become top-heavy. Skimming those chapters or laying them out in a shrunken manuscript revealed that several scenes repeated; there was escalation with each repetition, so it wasn’t all bad. Still, I wondered if I could cut a considerable chunk from the first section.

Today, I cut 2000 words! Hurrah!

But, with a sinking feeling, I realized that it is still top-heavy. Could I stand to cut another 8000 words? Probably not. That would gut too much of the emotion and story.

Restructure the 3 Acts

The only answer then, is that I must restructure the story, must think about it differently, set it up differently. Fortunately, there are 29 plot variations or plot templates and at least three types of character arcs. Will one of those work?

As is, it’s set up as a quest: now in a quest, there should be character growth and often what the character sets out to discover is not what they need, not what they find. But it’s that definitely stepping into a “new world” that is bothering me in this story. The new world can’t be the fantasy world they find in the story because that now comes at about halfway through the story.

IF I consider this a story about maturation, and not a quest, then the current structure is very close. At page 21, out of 80 (single spaced, small font—just the way I like to work; I will reformat before I send it out), there is a first step of defiance of Father, a step into the world of adulthood, if you will. That’s about the 25% point and works perfectly. Likewise, the rest of the plot points fall into line.

Making this type shift is subtle: it’s not about the plot or actions, per se. Instead, it’s about setting up expectations in a reader’s mind. They intuitively understand this deep structure of dividing a story into acts, and subconsciously expect it to happen. If I set up the story, with subtle word changes, as a story of maturation, I think it will work. That crucial transition from Act 1 to Act 2 will be the move into the world of adulthood, of bei

OK, so I have this revision to do and one key element of it is to deepen characterization and relationships. Uh, oh. My weakness! How did the editor know that it was my weak area? Even after spending agonizing hours on characterization, I’m still not hitting the mark.

Which left me stumped on this revision. I’m not blocked. Just don’t know what to do next.

Here’s my analogy. In China, we passed by open doorways that led to teensy courtyards from which four houses (or more) might front onto. We could look through the doorways, but the glimpse was brief, you didn’t get much detail.

That’s how I tend to write characters, from the outside looking in. But this week, I’ve been rephrasing the question.
NOT: How can I deepen this character?
INSTEAD: What is the relationship in this scene? How do these characters affect each other? What is each character fighting for in this scene?

The answers can NOT change the plot, the actual actions of what is going on. I’m actually happy with the plot. Instead, I’m looking at the inner person, the relationship which is revealed by the plot events.

Asking about relationship seems easier to me than asking about how to characterize. It’s interactive, as one character does something, the other must respond. If I can find a central thing around which I can center conflict and reveal character with that, it will work.

In the current scene, the characters are discussing going somewhere and they both agree that they need to do that. Well, there is conflict in the plot, because it’s a daring thing they do. In the revision, though, I’m having Character A hesitate, wondering if she should consult her father or someone other adult before going. Meanwhile, Character B is impulsive and confident. “A” generally has a superior attitude to B, so she can’t let him get the upper hand by being so bold. And thus the relationship develops. Who will bluff the other into action? Who will compromise their ideals to prove to the other they are tough?

It’s like zooming into that Chinese courtyard to see the small details. Suddenly, the relationship has revealed details of the character and we see clearly.

Working on a novel revision, I realize that I need to refocus the relationship between two characters. The question is where to start.

Grand Entrance for Your Character

I once heard the late Sid Fleischman talk about the importance of giving a character a Grand Entrance. Think about a stage play, where a character sweeps onto stage commanding the attention of the audience. It’s a first look at the character and sets the tone for everything that follows.

Characters out of focus? Start revising with the Grand Entrance Scene.

Actions. First, I’ll look at the action verbs. A story is almost always contained in the verbs. Too many “to be” verbs (is, are, has, had, am, etc.) and the story is flat, uninteresting. Action verbs characterize and I want to sharpen the characterizations while setting up the relationship differently. It’s not that the ACTION — what the character DO — will change much. But the meaning of the actions will take on a different tone.

Sensory Details. Likewise, the choice of sensory details will be crucial: visual, auditory, tactile, gustatory (taste) and olfactory (smell). For example, if you want to talk about a romantic relationship, you might describe a guy with these details: musky smell, soft curly hair, rough baritone voice, brush of his lips and –well, let’s forget the taste one for now.

On the other hand, a more platonic relationship might be sweaty smell, greasy hair, clear voice, firm handshake and –well, taste just doesn’t work here, either.

I’ll be looking at the actual choice of words carefully. I don’t expect that the scene’s actions will change much, but the reader should get a very different feel for the character relationship.

Tone

Of course, all of this relates to a slightly different tone set up in the relationship. Tone is that underlying attitude that characters have toward something that comes out in the language choices of the writer. I don’t want romance here, but an honest, growing friendship. I’ll use action verbs and sensory details to change that tone in this scene of Grand Entrance. If I can nail it here, it should act as a touchstone as I revise the rest of the novel.

So What? That’s the question you must get past in your fiction. Why should a reader care?

Keep Reader’s Interest: Make Everything Matter More

The best way to make a reader care about your story, your novel is to make things matter more, put more at risk, up the stakes.

Personal Stakes

This can be accomplished on multiple levels. The first is a personal level. We must care about your character for some reason. A typical kid in a typical school is boring. Why do we care about this character?

• Moral Character. Because they are honest or loyal, kind or brave, respectful or trustworthy, loved by one and all. Some character trait must endear them to us and that usually has to do with a high moral character, at least on some level. And of course, your story will challenge that moral fiber
• Someone Loves Them. It’s important that you Show-don’t-Tell that someone loves this character. We like likeable folks; especially if you have a rough character, someone must let the reader know that the character is still lovable. It might be just a dumb animal who loves and is faithful to Mr. Rough Mouth, but it must be something or someone.

Public Stakes

In the world of your story or novel, something must also be happening that has consequences. If A doesn’t figure things out, then X, Y and Z will happen and those things add up to one major catastrophe for the city or nation, the neighborhood or the ranch, the business or the spy endeavor.

• Stretch out the tent pegs. Give the story’s consequences a wider influence than you had originally planned. The events reach tentacles into the very fiber of society (on whatever level is appropriate).
• Price of Success. What’s the price your character must pay to succeed in their quest? How can you increase the price in terms of moral character or personal relationships? How can you make the character hurt more, while also taking the results to a wider field?
• Self Sacrifice. Funny–if a character volunteers to endure something, we admire him/her. If they are forced to do it, we sympathize, but we don’t admire them as much. A willingness to pay an unusually high price will raise the stakes.
• Extreme Effort. Here’s where a story can easily go wrong: you make the trials and ultimate resolution too easy. Instead, push your character to his or her physical limits, mental limits, emotional limits. You love this character that you created, yet you MUST tighten the screws in every way possible, make them suffer, force them to fight for every inch of success. Whatever trials and conflicts you’ve thrown at them, intensify it. Think about extreme sports: the triathon combines on three hard races for a grueling competition. And yes, it’s no accident that upping the public stakes can hardly be separated from its impact on your character.

I’m working on a novel and have just gotten a couple rounds of feedback from friends. Here’s what I noticed.

They didn’t give me the answer I wanted!

Be Open. I wanted them to say that this version was perfect, ready to send out. What they said was:
Are you sure this should be chapter 2 and not chapter 3?
Are you sure that you want to start the chapter this way?
Are you sure that you want to end the chapter this way?
If you do X, then later it will mean Y or Z. Are you sure you want that?

Notice: They are not telling me that I must change anything! They are merely giving me a professional opinion about what might need a second look.

Sigh. Good friends, aren’t they? They don’t let me get by with mediocre.

They Let Me Ask Questions

Accept Ultimate Responsibility. I have no idea where it started, this idea that authors should sit quietly and “take criticism.” It’s ridiculous. At least, to me.

No, I’m not arguing and saying that YOU are wrong. Of course, you’re just giving me “your opinion.” Of course, I need to know what you, as the reader, were feeling and experiencing as you read.

That’s great. But what I ALSO need is to understand exactly what you mean when you say, “I didn’t like that part.”

I need to ask questions to clarify the feedback, or the feedback is pointless to me. Did you not like it because you–personally–hate dogs and would never voluntarily read about them? Or did you not like it because the pacing was off? Or was it a single word choice that would make a difference?

Did you pick up on something in the last chapter that leaves you expecting something here? If so, can I change that bit in the last chapter and make this work here? Or, do you really think I must change this bit here?

There are so many, many variables in writing fiction: everything builds on what was done before and the choice of WHERE to revise is open; everything builds on the interconnections between ideas and language and the choice of WHERE to revise is open.

How can I make a wise choice, if I don’t understand exactly–with a great deal of precision–where the problem lies?

Fortunately, my friends let me “argue.” I need that.

The Ultimate Choices are Mine: I Appreciate the Help

Be Thankful. In the end, though, my friends also leave the choices with me, as it should be. This is my story and it’s my vision for the story that matters. They suggest, prod, try to veto, nudge and encourage. That’s all they can do. In the end, it’s me and the words on the page. But thanks friends, for those nudges. I need those to keep going!

NonFiction BookBlast Sunday, June 26, 2011. 8-10 am. ALA Conference in NOLA.

I woke last night and wrote and rewrote endlessly the first line of my new novel. Yes, it is an important line, but it’s not important enough to stop me from writing a first draft of the first chapter.

Place Holders

I like the idea of place holders in fiction. That is, you write something–a sentence, a title, a paragraph, a joke, a piece of dialogue–knowing that this isn’t the best it can be, but also knowing that you’ll come back and fix it.

Place holders have an important function in the first draft. They let you get the story told, without fussing over the exact details. You get a sense of momentum, that you are moving forward. The story is the focus of the first draft, getting it down on paper, from first to last, opening scene to climax to denouement.

The function of the first draft is to find your story.
The function of the next few drafts is to find the best way to tell that story.

So, using place holders in the first draft makes perfect sense.

NonFiction BookBlast Sunday, June 26, 2011. 8-10 am. ALA Conference in NOLA.

Bettina Restrepo Debuts with ILLEGAL

Introduced first in 2007, debut children’s authors have formed a cooperative effort to market their books. I featured Revision Stories from the Classes of 2k8 and 2k9 and this feature returns this year with the Class of 2k11.

• Class of 2008
• Class of 2009

Guest post by Bettina Restrepo

Recently, I performed a paid critique of a teenager’s novel. While I carefully weighed my words to encourage the young writer, I knew he needed a vigorous critique to move forward to revise. No one wants to feel like they have to redo their work. Rewriting a novel reminds me that revision is like growing up. I want to skip childhood and get to the good part.

My novel, ILLEGAL, grew from two picture books. Each time I rewrote the book, I taught myself how to revise. I learned more about the tedious revision process. Then, I discovered the work was learning to live and listen.

Characters Calling. First, by combing through each word and sentence, I hear more parts of the story from the characters inside the book. I keep many novel ideas sitting inside a drawer. But, I only work on the stories where the characters call and beckon me with more details of their life. As I grow in maturity, I add new life experience which gives me deeper understanding of my characters. It takes life to influence great writing.

Patience and Tenacity. Second, I learned patience and tenacity. Long before I had an agent, I had to print out the pages, schlep to the post office, and send off my baby manuscript to live amongst the slush piles. Three months later I would status query. Three months later, I would nudge. But, during those six months, I went on to write other things. Each time when the manuscript came back, I looked at it with new eyes. The returned manuscript contained a generic rejection letter, sometimes with providing a golden nugget of information. I listened to the advice doled out and I heard (sometimes) what was meant. My tenacity came as I realized that these rejections weren’t about me, but rather about a story that wasn’t ready – yet.

Growing as a Writer. Third, I’m continuing to learning patience and it’s getting easier. I am no longer a baby writer, crying for Mama to read every morsel, to feed me the answers. I crawled around the publishing world putting genres and techniques into my mouth to see what worked. I did the rudimentary drills to learn multiplication, faced the schoolyard bullies. I tackled Algebra; even though I was convinced it would never apply to my life (once again, wrong!).

Lifelong Challenge. As I begin my fourth novel, I’m beginning to understand that my learning curve is a tangent – stretching out into places I never imagined. Learning how to revise will continue to b

Do you look at your old drafts?

Save!
Obsessively, I save old drafts. I number the versions of my manuscript, untill I finally decide to name it something different. I create folders for OldDrafts. But I rarely LOOK at these old drafts. Somehow, it doesn’t seem necessary.

Looking Back or Finding What Worked
This revision is difficult, though. I like this story very much, but it keeps just missing. You have stories like that, too? So, we circle back to it and think this time, I’ll do it right. Today, I’m looking back over my shoulder.

Old Drafts Yield Strengths and Options

Well, this time, I went looking at the old drafts and found some surprising things:
Placement of Backstory: I had some good options in where I put backstory. There is a legend that needs to be told at some point. I know there are tons of creative ways to do this: have someone sing a ballad, tell it to young kids, set it up as the prologue. Nothing seems to work well here. Yet, the reader needs the backstory, the ballad. It’s hard to give out dribbles because it’s a complete legend unto itself.

In one old draft, I told the story early to some youngsters. And–I like that. It worked. I’m going to try that again. But this time, I’ll rewrite the legend itself to make it a more exciting scene and not just a narrative that is told.

Playful Elements. I also used some playful elements in earlier drafts. Why did I give those up? Maybe, I wasn’t confident enough to be that playful, to trust that the reader would get it. But I like some of the play there and want to work some of it back in.

Mostly, looking at old drafts has given me some options and perhaps, unveiled some hidden strengths of my writing. If you haven’t done it lately, open up some of those old files and look for golden words!

Balancing the Need for Foreshadowing

I’ve been revising a mss, taking a break from doing a new project. Recent feedback told me that my novel was great, except the opening didn’t set up the “magic” of the story well enough. It was too great a shock when it suddenly occurred on about page 50.

Yes, openings should set up what comes later in many ways. Opening are a balancing act, a sleight of hands between the here-and-now and the coming-story. You need to be firmly in the moment. I definitely fall into the camp who wants an opening scene with physical action, and not just a character introduction. I try to write something set in a particular place and time, with a definite goal for the characters. But you must also foreshadow.

Foreshadowing is anything that lets the reader have a hint of what’s coming.

Tone, Mood and Voice. I think I had already done a good job at setting up the tone (the main character’s attitude), the mood and the voice of the story. It has a medieval setting, with a hint of mystery and magic. But that wasn’t enough.

Hints. More than just that, I needed specific hints of what was coming. These hints needed to hook the reader, not by explaining everything but by creating compelling questions in the reader’s mind. In the new opening, I firmly stayed in the here-and-now, and if the main character already knew something, I didn’t explain it. Instead, I let the reader wonder what the main character knew that the reader didn’t.

In other words, I didn’t explain everything. I let some things just stand as stated, that thus-and-so had happened. There were some explanations, but the key here was to achieve clarity in the scene, while still teasing the reader into turning the page.

It’s a delicate dance, staying in the present, yet pointing toward what’s coming. But foreshadowing is one of the goals of opening chapters or prologues.

Here are some tips:

• Make sure you stay in the present scene. Don’t drift into long explanations or flashback.
• Don’t explain everything. If the main character would already know this, think hard about explaining it to the reader. At some point they may need to know this, but you can control the when of the explanation. If the action/emotions of the scene are clear without the explanation, consider holding off.
• Mirror what is to come. Do you need to set up an argument between a husband and wife? Maybe a smaller argument with a co-worker can foreshadow the coming blow-up. Think about how you might do a progression: argument, worse argument, worst argument.

Two agents have weighed in on my book. Agent #1, on whose critique of the first 75 pages I bid at a charity auction, said, This delivers. You have quirky characters, and people up to no good. I love the humor in the book; you’re very funny.

Here's the but. When I asked if she'd be interested in representing it, she said it wasn't her kind of book; she tends more towards family dramas. But - she did ask me to send her the rest of the manuscript, which she looked forward to reading.

And in even better news....I asked the agent who'd requested the full manuscript a few months ago for a status report. And she said,
We have been considering your manuscript, which we think is very good, but needs some revisions before we'd be able to take it on. We thought that ANIMAL CRACKER was very funny, well-paced, and irreverent. The heroine is brash and relatable, which makes what could be conventional chick lit feel fresh and engaging. We did think, though, that the second half of the book could use some work...the resolution, even for such a lighthearted work, came too easily. We'd love to see a revision that addresses these ideas.

I shall revise away.

30 Days to Stronger Scenes: Table of Contents

We spent November talking about how to write stronger scenes. Here’s a handy Table of Contents for the series.

SCENE 1: What has the Most Potential for Improving Your Writing?

SCENE 2: Elements of a Scene

SCENE 3: Scene v. Narrative

SCENE 4: Plan a Scene

SCENE 5: Beat Sheets

SCENE 6: Keeping Scenes on Track

SCENE 7: Showdown in Every Scene

SCENE 8: List of Possible Scenes

SCENE 9: Scene List v. Synopsis

SCENE 10: Plotting with Scenes

SCENE 11: Scene Cuts

SCENE 12: Avoid 5 Plotting Mistakes by Using Scenes

SCENE 13: Not Worthy of a Full Scene

SCENE 14: Omit a Scene

SCENE 15: How to Salvage a Scene

SCENE 16: Aiming for Bull’s Eye

SCENE 17: KaBlam! Dynamite Scenes

SCENE 18: Special Scenes: Flashback Scenes

SCENE 19: Special Scenes: Openings

SCENE 20: Special Scenes: Big Scenes

SCENE 21: Special Scenes: Set up big Scenes

SCENE 22: Special Scenes: Climax

SCENE 23: Special Scenes: Final Scenes

SCENE 24: Stories that Spaghetti

SCENE 25: 10 Scene Problems Solved

SCENE 26: All Dialogue Scenes