Characters in Conflict – Plotting Your #NaNoWriMo Novel

Are you doing #NaNoWriMo? If so, I hope by now you have a solid story idea. But it’s possible you got started and realized your idea might not be strong enough, or complex enough, to sustain a whole novel.

A strong story needs conflict. Without conflict, you have one of those “slice of life” episodes that isn’t a real story. But conflict doesn’t just come from dramatic things happening. It comes from the character – what he or she needs and wants, and why he or she can’t get it easily. Conflict comes from a character with a problem or a goal.

Some authors prefer to start with a plot idea, while others start with an interesting character. Either can work, but ultimately the plot and character must work together. Let’s look at character development, as it intersects with plot.

We’ll start with a premise: a kid has a math test on Monday. Exciting? Hardly. But ask two simple questions, and you can add conflict.

·                     Why is it important to the character? The stakes should be high. The longer the story or novel, the higher stakes you need to sustain it. A short story character might want to win a contest; a novel character might need to save the world.

·                     Why is it difficult for the character? Difficulties can be divided into three general categories, traditionally called man versus man, man versus nature, and man versus himself. You can even have a combination of these. For example, someone may be trying to spy on some bank robbers (man versus man) during a dangerous storm (man versus nature) when he is afraid of lightning (man versus himself).

For our kid with the math test, here’s one example: It’s important because if he doesn’t pass, he’ll fail the class, have to go to summer school, and not get to go to football camp, when football is what he loves most. Assuming we create a character readers like, they’ll care about the outcome of this test and root for him to succeed.

Our football lover could have lots of challenges – he forgot his study book, he’s expected to babysit a sibling, a storm knocked out the power, he has ADHD, or he suffers test anxiety. But ideally we’ll relate the difficulty to the reason it’s important. So let’s say he has a game Sunday afternoon and is getting pressure from his coach and teammates to practice rather than study. Plus he’d rather play football anyway.

We now have a situation full of potential tension. Let the character struggle enough before he succeeds (or fails and learns a lesson), and you’ll have a story. And if these two questions can pump up a dull premise, just think what they can do with an exciting one!

Fears and Desires

As that example shows, conflict comes from the interaction between character and plot. You can create conflict by setting up situations that force a person to confront their fears. If someone is afraid of heights, make them go someplace high. If they’re afraid of taking responsibility, force them to be in charge.

For example, my middle grade fantasy The Genie’s Gift is set in the fifteenth-century Middle East and draws on the mythology of 1001 Arabian Nights. It could have been simply a magical adventure tale, but the main character gives the story depth. She is anything but the typical swashbuckling hero:

             Thirteen-year-old Anise, shy and timid, dreads marrying the man her father chooses for her. Her aunt tells her about the Genie Shakayak, the giver of the Gift of Sweet Speech, which allows one to charm everyone. Anise is determined to find the genie and ask for the gift, so she can control her own future. But the way is barred by a series of challenges, both ordinary and magical. How will Anise get past a vicious she-ghoul, a sorceress who turns people to stone, and mysterious sea monsters, when she can’t even speak in front of strangers?

Because Anise is so desperate to reach her goal, she tackles challenges far beyond her comfort zone. This makes the dramatic action even more dramatic, while providing a sympathetic character and a theme about not letting your fears stop you from achieving your dreams.

You can also create conflict by setting up situations that oppose a person’s desires. Sometimes these desires are for practical things. In my middle grade mystery set in ancient Egypt, The Eyes of Pharaoh, the main character is a young temple dancer whose one goal is to win an upcoming contest. When her friend disappears, she has to decide if winning the contest is really more important than helping a friend.

Perhaps your character simply wants an ordinary life. In my Mayan historical novel, The Well of Sacrifice, Eveningstar never dreams of being a leader or a rebel. But when her family, the government, and even the gods fail to stop the evil high priest who is trying to take over the city, she’s forced to act. The reluctant hero is a staple of books and movies because it’s fun to watch someone forced into a heroic role when they don’t want it. (Think of Han Solo in Star Wars.)

Even with nonfiction, you can create tension by focusing on the challenges that make a person’s accomplishments more impressive. In Jesse Owens: Young Record Breaker, I made this incredible athlete’s story more powerful by focusing on all the things he had to overcome – not only racism, but also childhood health problems, poverty, and a poor education. I showed his successes and his troubles, to help the reader understand what he achieved.

To build conflict:

• Start with the character’s goal. Create conflict by setting up situations which oppose a person’s needs and desires.

• What does your main character want? What does he need? Make these things different, and you’ll add tension. It can be as simple as our football player who wants to practice football, but needs to study. Or it could be more subtle, like someone who wants to be protected but needs to learn independence. (Or the reverse, someone who wants independence but still needs to be protected. Those two characters could even be in the same story. Life is complex, with many shades of gray, and books can explore that. Subtle concepts may be confusing for younger readers, but they are entirely appropriate for middle grade and young adult books.)

• Even if your main problem is external (man versus man or man versus nature), consider giving the character an internal flaw (man versus himself) that contributes to the difficulty. Perhaps your character has a temper, is lazy, or refuses to ever admit she’s wrong. This helps set up your complications and as a bonus makes your character seem more real.

• Your character may change or grow as a person during the story. This is called a character arc. A character who changes is usually more interesting than one who does not. However, growth does not always mean a reversal of attitude. The growth can come from reaffirming what the character already knew. For example, a child could know what is right but struggle to do it. In the end he does what is right, growing by following and reinforcing his beliefs.

• A character’s growth can reflect your theme, by showing what the character learns.

• Test the idea by considering different options. Change the character’s age, gender, or looks. Change the point of view. Change the setting. Change the internal conflict. What happens? Choose the combination that has the most dramatic potential.

• The conflict must be important enough to sustain the story, and it must not be too easy to solve. This will vary by story length and readership age group.

• It should take more than one attempt to solve the problem – three tries works well for shorter fiction. For longer fiction, add more attempts, or have each attempt made up of several parts.

• To build original plots, brainstorm 10 possible things that could happen next. Pick the least likely, so long as it makes sense for the story.

Some writers start with plot ideas and then develop the character who’ll face those challenges, while others start with a great character and then figure out what he or she does. Regardless, remember to work back and forth between plot and character, tying them together with conflict.

Do you tend to start with plot or with character? How does this affect your writing process?

This post was adapted from You Can Write for Children: How to Write Great Stories, Articles, and Books for Kids and Teenagers. The book is available for the Kindle, in paperback, or in Large Print paperback.

Chris Eboch is the author of over 50 books for children, including nonfiction and fiction, early reader through teen. Her novels for ages nine and up include The Eyes of Pharaoh, a mystery in ancient Egypt; The Well of Sacrifice, a Mayan adventure; The Genie’s Gift, a middle eastern fantasy; and the Haunted series, about kids who travel with a ghost hunter TV show, which starts with The Ghost on the Stairs. Her writing craft books include You Can Write for Children: How to Write Great Stories, Articles, and Books for Kids and Teenagers, and Advanced Plotting.

Learn more at https://chriseboch.com/ or her Amazon page, or check out her writing tips at her Write Like a Pro! blog.

Kill the villain? Or save them? by Joanna Roddy

For my last post, I talked about villains and the layering of roles often seen in kids lit: rivals, agents, and the true enemy. I want to continue that discussion and talk about what we as writers do with our villains in the end. 

Disney (and for that matter, most traditional story-telling) tells us that the villain needs to die. Especially the true enemy, especially if they are powerful through magic or supernatural ability. They're too dangerous to live. Lesser villains, like agents, need to be punished, and rivals and bullies need to be humiliated. It's often an eye-for-an-eye system in which just deserts are served up to satisfy the viewer's sense of fairness. In these narratives, good is good, though it may be flawed or misguided; and bad is intentionally bad. The hero must vanquish evil. Ultimately, these stories have a power struggle as the central conflict and the story ends when power ultimately resides with the protagonist. 

Other story-tellers, like Japanese animated fantasy film-maker Hayao Miyazaki, show us villains who are unquestionably bad and clearly set against the protagonist, but the hero's path to overcoming that villain isn't through violence or a show of definitive power. This is because the hero has a different skill-set altogether. Where traditional heroes need to harness their power in physical or magical battle, these alternative heroes are equipped with empathy, loyalty, and kindness. They will still need bravery and perseverance, but the result will be something far different than vanquishing the villain. Rather, the villain can be saved. 

Take for example Spirited Away, Miyazaki's 2003 Oscar-winning film in which the ten-year-old hero, Chihiro, defeats a monstrous spirit feeding on people's greed by simple indifference to its offers of gifts and gold. After returning it to its benign form, she befriends it, taking it as a traveling companion. Later, Chihiro is able to win her freedom from a witch, Yubaba, who is holding her and her parents prisoner, through her wits and monopolizing Yubaba's weak spot: her devotion to her bratty son. Does Chihiro hold the son hostage or threaten him? No. She earlier made friends with him, transforming his selfishness into compassion that then is leveraged in her favor. The story is left with the possibility that Yubaba's love for her ennobled son will lead to her own transformation.

Another example: Tomm Moore's Song of the Sea. Based on Irish folklore, the villain in this film is Macha, the owl witch. She steals people's emotions, keeping them in glass jars while the people themselves are turned to stone. We learn that she does this because her son's broken heart was too painful for her to witness, and, thinking she was giving him mercy, she turned him to stone. Now she is determined to do the same for everyone, including herself. The child protagonists break the jars and the emotions all come flooding out. Macha realizes that allowing oneself to feel things, even great emotional pain, is preferable to feeling nothing and being barely alive. In the end she becomes their ally and her relationship with her son is restored. 

The only irredeemable villains in these films are destructive forces. Miyazaki presents war and pollution again and again in his films as true evils that must be resisted. Moore's Song of the Sea offers only time and the rules of magic as the heroes' greatest enemies. 

I find myself torn. Evil is real. Just look at the news. Kid readers understand this in a pure and simple way, often overlooking the nuance and splitting the world into good guys and bad guys. I think the longing to see justice for wrongdoing is innate. But as writers, I feel we owe it to children to represent the world as it truly is: seemingly evil people have complicated motives, and no one is completely irredeemable. Our choices have power and the possibility to choose good is always there. Some villains will never choose good--that's the power of free will too. 

Typically our heroes destroy the villain in a final showdown in which good prevails against all odds. The hero seems ill-equipped and powerless until that last moment when what is needed to overcome impending doom finally arrives, and they win. But what if instead the thing that arrives against the odds is that elusive magic--the kind we all wish we had--that gives the hero the exact key to unlock the villain's heart and return them to a path of love? Everyone wins. What if we told stories like that, and instilled the belief in children that maybe there's something inside them that can transform the world through love instead of violence? Through peacemaking instead of division. 

Maybe that's idealistic, but doesn't our world need those kind of heroes now more than ever? 

Chris Eboch Asks: Does Plotting Take Away the Fun?

We talk a lot about writing process on this blog. (You’re welcome.) It’s always interesting to see how other authors work. In general terms, we are often broken into two groups – plotters who plan things out in advance, and pantsers who make things up as they go (writing “by the seat of the pants”).

One statement I’ve regularly heard from pantsers is that plotting would “take the fun out of writing.” Today I got wondering… Is this something people know from experience, or is it an assumption? Possibly a false one?

Let me give you an example from my current work in progress. This is a mystery novel for adults, but the process would apply to middle grade as well.

I started by developing a main character, some family members, and a mystery premise. I knew “whodunit” but not much else. At a recent small writing retreat, we sat around talking about our WIPs (works in progress) and people tossed out reactions and feedback. This gave me some great new ideas. I brainstormed additional ideas and wrote down everything on scraps of paper. (I hadn’t brought index cards, which I would normally use for this kind of thing.)

Then I shuffled the ideas around until I had a plot I thought worked well, alternating quieter investigation moments, such as interviewing people, with more dramatic action scenes, and weaving in subplots. Finally, I wrote this up as an outline.

Now that I know “everything” that happens, did I remove all chance for spontaneity and surprises in the writing?

No way!

Let’s look at my upcoming scene. First, some background: Kate is a conflict journalist who has returned to her childhood home to recover after a serious injury. Her mother is in an Alzheimer’s care unit, and the director there – an old acquaintance of Kate’s – asks Kate to quietly look into some suspicious deaths at the Home. Besides the two deaths, one woman had a mysterious illness but recovered. Here is the description of the scene I’m about to write, from my outline:

Visit woman who got sick while [the woman’s] family is there. Discuss the symptoms of her illness. A family member makes the comment that it would be better if she had died.

Does this look like there are no opportunities for creativity or surprises in the scene? Here are some of the things I don’t yet know:

•         Where should the scene take place? In the patient’s room, or a common room? What is the room like? How can I describe it vividly with a few specific details?
•         What is the elderly patient like? What’s her appearance? How does she behave? She’s in an Alzheimer’s care unit, so I may want to watch some videos of Alzheimer’s patients.
•         What are the family members like? How many are there? What is their relationship to the patient? How do they behave?
•         How does the scene play out? How does Kate asked questions without revealing that she’s investigating?
•         Kate has a strained relationship with her sister, who is also present but doesn’t know about Kate’s investigation. How does the sister react to what’s happening? Can I create more conflict between the two of them?
•         Kate’s father has recently learned what she’s doing and wants to help her. What can he do in this scene? What about Kate’s mother and other secondary characters?

As you can see, having an outline doesn’t mean you don’t have flexibility, creativity, or surprises. Besides the questions above, I may come up with a new twist or a way to drop in a clue that I hadn’t anticipated.

What Works for You?

I fully believe that when it comes to writing technique, there’s no one right answer for everyone. If you have a process that’s working for you, congratulations! Keep at it! If you feel there’s room for improvement, you might want to try some different things.

And if you’ve always assumed that brainstorming and outlining would ruin the creativity and fun, please don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.

Here are some posts on plotting and process from other Project Mayhem authors:

• Plot Maps by Lee Wardlaw (focusing on some basic questions)
• Revision Technique: Book Mapping by Caroline Starr Rose (a very detailed technique that works best for complete manuscripts)
• What to Do with a Franken-Draft by Dianne K. Salerni at Writer Unboxed (also analyzing a complete manuscript, with some color coding)

Plus a few more plotting resources:

• The Blake Snyder Beat Sheet (designed for screenwriters but many authors find this 15-step questionnaire helpful)
• Janet Fox’s Diagram of Plot Points for different systems

Also, my book Advanced Plotting offers a tool for outlining and analyzing your plot, along with articles on fast starts, developing middles, plot points, cliffhangers, and more advice on making your work stronger. Get the paperback or e-book on Amazon.

Get The Plot Arc Exercise as a free Word download you can edit at my website.

Chris Eboch is the author of over 40 books for young people, including The Eyes of Pharaoh, a mystery in ancient Egypt; The Well of Sacrifice, a Mayan adventure; and the Haunted series, which starts with The Ghost on the Stairs. Her writing craft books include You Can Write for Children: How to Write Great Stories, Articles, and Books for Kids and Teenagers, and Advanced Plotting.

Learn more at www.chriseboch.com or her Amazon page, or check out her writing tips at her Write Like a Pro! blog.

As Kris Bock, Chris writes novels of suspense and romance involving outdoor adventures and Southwestern landscapes. The Mad Monk’s Treasure (FREE at all ebook retailers!) follows the hunt for a long-lost treasure in the New Mexico desert. Whispers in the Dark features archaeology and intrigue among ancient Southwest ruins. What We Found is a mystery with strong romantic elements about a young woman who finds a murder victim in the woods. In Counterfeits, stolen Rembrandt paintings bring danger to a small New Mexico town.

Read excerpts at www.krisbock.com or visit her Amazon page. Sign up for the Kris Bock newsletter for announcements of new books, sales, and more.

Villains: Rivals, Agents, and Enemies by Joanna Roddy

Antagonists come in many forms: natural disasters, well-meaning friends, or even unwitting coincidence. But I think the most fun to write are villains. 

Project Mayhem has posted some great material about villainy in the past, but I thought I'd revisit the subject with some ideas that have been helpful to me lately.

Many many types of villains have been identified before. But I've noticed lately that there are often three levels of villains that come up within the same novel, especially those with young protagonists. So let's break them down and look at their roles, functions, and pitfalls.

RIVALS:
What they are: Rivals are someone on the same level, or close to it, with the protagonist. They may only serve to drive the protagonist forward as a competitor who poses a true challenge, or they may become a bully who actively causes harm. Rivals are not typically the main threat. They are usually unrelated to the true villain of the story; however, they may be conscripted to become an agent of the greater enemy, or used as a pawn. They may also be somehow redeemed before the end, often as a result of their encounters with the protagonist. 

Examples: Draco Malfoy (Harry Potter), Josie Pie (Anne of Green Gables), Boromir (Fellowship of the Ring), Edmund (The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe), Marion Hawthorne (Harriet the Spy)

Function: The Rival creates situations that test the protagonist, calling out and revealing their strengths, weaknesses, and true character. They also serve as a foil to the protagonist, so that readers become more invested in the main character through seeing their virtues in contrast to the Rival's character flaws. They are a training ground for the climactic confrontation with the greater enemy and create try/fail cycles to track the protagonist's progress. In reality-based fiction, the Rival may be the only intentional human antagonist. 

Pitfalls: Like all villains, Rivals need to have a good reason in their own minds for treating our protagonist the way they do. Just being a spoiled brat or the next best competition isn't enough for them to single out the protagonist. Get inside their head and figure out what pressures, insecurities, and prejudices make them the way that they are. Frenemies, former friends, or family members can make for a much more complex kind of Rival who has both love and hatred at play in how they relate to the protagonist.

AGENTS:
What they are: Agents are tools used by the true enemy to do their evil work. Often they are secret Agents, posing as allies but actually working against the protagonist. Sometimes they are overtly acting as a representative of a greater evil but are clearly motivated by lesser impulses and desires, which can allow for crueler and pettier torments for the protagonist. Sometimes they are corrupted or possessed by evil, or they may be a henchman. Often Agents are in positions of power or inherent trust, which lends to more surprising revelations and to abuses of that power, amplifying the largeness of the overall threat.

Examples: Wormtail/ Peter Pettigrew (Harry Potter), Barty Crouch Jr./ Mad-Eye Moody (Harry Potter), Professor Quirrel (Harry Potter), Luke (Percy Jackson: The Lightning Thief), Saruman (Lord of the Rings), Darth Vader (Star Wars)

Function: Agent villains allow for layers of complexity to the greatest source of antagonism in a novel. They create good plot twists when their motives and loyalties are revealed. They give the reader a sense of the pervasiveness of the evil and the immensity of what the protagonist has to overcome. Agents are often the more interesting villains because their ability to deceive about their true motives gives the reader both good and bad interpretations of their character, heightening the horror of what seemingly good people are capable of. 

Pitfalls: Again, this type of villain needs a strong personal reason for doing what they do. They may believe in the cause of the true enemy, or they may be acting under duress, but their willingness to be used as an Agent has to have that additional personal motivation based on past experiences, beliefs, and circumstances. It can be tricky to keep a secret Agent disguised from your reader while finding that balance of giving them believable flaws, a compelling motivation for what they're doing, and some well-hidden hints before the reveal. Likewise, a too-perfect Agent will automatically be suspect. 

THE ENEMY:
What it is: This is the mastermind, entity, Dark Lord, or true source of evil who will pose the greatest threat to the protagonist, which they must overcome. These are the more traditional villains. 

Examples: Sauron (Lord of the Rings), Voldy (Harry Potter), The White Witch (The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe), The Emperor (Star Wars), Lex Luther (Superman), Kronos (Percy Jackson)

Function: The Enemy's main function is to pose the greatest threat and bring the protagonist to their ultimate limits as they try to overcome that threat. They personify everything the protagonist must reject, and good Enemies actually do make clear the allure of their perspective, or offer such horrific consequences that the reader would understand why the protagonist would capitulate.

Pitfalls: One pitfall here is having only the central Enemy. As you can see from the above, layers of challenges with lesser villains better prepares the protagonist, and in turn the reader, for the final confrontation with the true Enemy. If you do layer in this way, though, you shouldn't just plunk in the Enemy at the end. Threads of the Enemy should be woven throughout the story, and the challenges the protagonist faces should relate in some manner to the ultimate challenge in the climax. Another major pitfall is to make the Enemy one-dimensional. Remember that every villain is a hero in their own eyes--they are a distortion of what goodness and heroism should be, not necessarily the total opposite of it. Understand why they do what they do.

I hope you find this as helpful as I have! Please let us know in the comments if you've noticed this hierarchy before, or if you think there might be other things to add to the levels of villainy. Now go practice your evil laugh. 

Chris Eboch on Wrapping up a Story with Bookends

A story can be circular.

Strong stories have a distinct beginning (introducing the main character and problem), middle (where the character tries to solve the problem), and end (where the character succeeds or fails, and possibly learns a lesson).

A story can feel especially satisfying if the end clearly echoes the beginning. Perhaps a character has gone on a journey, and at the end he returns home. Maybe she starts by struggling with some physical task, like hitting a baseball, and at the end she succeeds. Or he’s resisting a change, such as a new sibling, and the story ends with them connecting.

When the final setting or situation is similar to the opening, creating “bookends” to the middle, the pattern feels satisfying. It also ensures that the story is tied together and hasn’t wandered off on tangents.

Carolyn Meyer often uses a prologue and epilogue as bookends for her historical fiction. Cleopatra Confesses (Simon & Schuster) includes a prologue where Cleopatra hears that her enemy, Octavian, is at the gates of Alexandria. The body of the novel shows her remembering her life as she waits. In the Epilogue, Octavian has arrived, demanding her surrender.

An Echo, Not a Copy

While the ending echoes the beginning, it shouldn’t duplicate it. With a few exceptions, a story requires change. Quite likely, a problem has been solved. Hopefully, the main character has grown. The traveler returns with a new appreciation for his home. The girl who thought hitting a baseball was impossible is satisfied with her progress. The boy who wanted nothing to do with the new baby appreciates the advantage of having a sibling. They haven’t just solved the problem; they’ve changed how they feel about the situation.

Bookend scenes may illustrate the changes by using a scene or language similar to, but slightly different from, the opening. If you open with a girl trying to hit a baseball, close with her back at the same park, swinging at a baseball again. Try making the circumstances as similar as possible, with the same weather and other characters present.

The bookend format doesn’t work if you end at a different point, such as with the character at home telling her parents what happened, even if the problem was solved in the same way. You want the echo of a similar scene. This can help you figure out where to end, so you don’t stop too early or drag on too long.

You can also experiment with using similar language, with small shifts to show what’s changed. In the opening scene of Uma Krishnaswami’s The Grand Plan to Fix Everything (Atheneum), the narrative reads, “Two happy sighs float off the couch....” Of course, something quickly intrudes on this happiness. But after a madcap adventure, the narrative concludes, “There are many kinds of sighs. The one Dini sighs now is wrapped in contentment.”

Nonfiction and Art Bookends

Bookends can work with all kinds of writing, including nonfiction. In Jennifer McKerley’s early reader Amazing Armadillos (Random House), the book begins and ends at the same point in the yearly cycle of the armadillo’s life, but with a twist. The beginning features an adult armadillo, while the end shows her pups in the same situation.

Shirley Raye Redmond’s Pup’s Prairie Home (Picture Window Books) starts with the lines, “Pup and his mom lived in a prairie dog town. Their home was a deep dark hole in the ground.” Although his mother insists this is the best place for him, Pup wants a more exciting home. He changes his mind after a close call with a hawk and ends by saying, “A deep, dark hole is the best home for a prairie dog pup like me.”

Illustrators can use bookends as well. In Robin Koontz’s wordless picture book Dinosaur Dream (Putnam Juvenile), the story begins and ends with the child sleeping in bed, framing the dream adventure with dinosaurs.

Using bookend scenes is one form of showing rather than telling. The reader can see how things have changed, and whether or not the change has satisfied the main character. This typically suggests the theme, so you don’t need to explicitly point out the lesson learned.

Bookends aren’t necessary for every story, but by thinking about bookends, you may find a natural ending point for your story. Don’t end too early, before you’ve had a chance to echo the beginning. And don’t go on too long, traveling past the natural bookend. With bookends, you can illustrate the change in the character or situation subtly but clearly, while using a repetition pattern that’s especially appealing to children.

Chris Eboch is the author of over 40 books for children, including nonfiction and fiction, early reader through teen. Her novels for ages nine and up include The Eyes of Pharaoh, a mystery in ancient Egypt; The Well of Sacrifice, a Mayan adventure; The Genie’s Gift, a middle eastern fantasy; and the Haunted series, about kids who travel with a ghost hunter TV show, which starts with The Ghost on the Stairs. 

Chris's writing craft books include You Can Write for Children: How to Write Great Stories, Articles, and Books for Kids and Teenagers, and Advanced Plotting.

Learn more at www.chriseboch.com or her Amazon page, or check out her writing tips at her Write Like a Pro! blog.

Are You Ready to #NaNoWriMo? - Prep for National Novel Writing Month with Chris Eboch

During National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), thousands of people work on writing a rough draft of a novel in the month of November.

Why? How could you possibly write an entire novel (defined, for the purpose of this month, as 50,000 words or more) in a single month? More importantly, how could you possibly write a good novel in a month?

Writing a good novel is not the point. Maybe writing poorly sounds like a bad idea, but taking on this intensive challenge for a month has several advantages. The time pressure forces you to put aside your editor and critic hats and instead focus on getting words on paper. This helps some people avoid the insecurity that can come with starting a new project, or the temptation to endlessly edit the first few chapters instead of moving forward. Writing fast quickly gives you material to develop.

It also encourages you to schedule writing time – plenty of it, every week. It’s easier to give up TV, reading, and other hobbies for a single month. It’s also easier to get family members to adjust their schedule to yours if you are requesting a favor for a month, not forever. (You may even discover that your family, and the world, can function with less of your attention than you thought.)

So NaNoWriMo can get you jumpstarted on idea, give you a big, messy draft to work with, and help you establish new habits Even if you can’t devote the same amount of time to writing after November, maybe you can carve out some time every week.

Finally, the challenge provides a strong sense of community. You can network with other writers, encourage each other, and find inspiring blog posts or helpful tips to keep you moving for your project. (Just don't spend all your time reading about writing and talking about writing, rather than actually writing.)

Are You in?

The first step is establishing your own goal. Maybe you don't want to attempt the official goal of 50,000 words. For a middle grade novel, 30,000 words may be more realistic. That's *only* (?) 1000 words a day for the month! (Of course, you have to consider whether you can actually write seven days a week, and if you're in America, don’t forget Thanksgiving break.) Or maybe there's a cool that's better for you – writing for 15 minutes every single day, or making progress on a novel you've already started.

Making the Most of an Idea

If you want to be ready to write a novel in November, it’s best to start brainstorming and planning in advance. Even if you are a "pantser" who prefers to dive in and figure out your story as you go, you might avoid some time staring at a blank screen by brainstorming your basic idea and a few things that could happen. If you're a plotter, you might want a more developed plot outline before you begin.

Here's a condensed excerpt from my book Advanced Plotting to help you get started.

A story has four main parts: situation, complications, climax, and resolution. You need all of them to make your story work.

The situation should involve an interesting main character with a challenging problem or goal. Even this takes development. Maybe you have a great challenge, but aren’t sure why a character would have that goal. Or maybe your situation is interesting, but doesn’t actually involve a problem.

For example, I wanted to write about a brother and sister who travel with a ghost hunter TV show. The girl can see ghosts, but the boy can’t. That gave me the characters and situation, but no problem or goal. Goals come from need or desire. What did they want that could sustain a series?

Tania feels sorry for the ghosts and wants to help them, while keeping her gift a secret from everyone but her brother. Jon wants to help and protect his sister, but sometimes feels overwhelmed by the responsibility. Now we have characters with problems and goals. The story is off to a good start.

Tips:

·         Make sure your idea is specific and narrow. Focus on an individual person and situation, not a universal concept. For example, don’t try to write about “racism.” Instead, write about one character facing racism in a particular situation.

·         Ask why the goal is important to the character. The longer the story, the higher the stakes needed to sustain it.

·         Ask why this goal is difficult. The level of difficulty will vary depending on the length of the story and the age of the character, but the task should be believably hard.

·         Even if your main problem is external, give the character an internal flaw that contributes to the difficulty. This adds complications and also makes your character seem more real. For some internal flaws, see the seven deadly sins: lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, and pride.

·         Test the idea. Change the character’s age, gender, or looks. Change the POV, setting, external conflict, internal conflict. Choose the combination that has the most dramatic potential.

Building the Middle

If a character solves his goal easily, the story is boring. To keep tension high, you need complications.

Try the “rule of three” and have the main character try to solve each problem three times. The first two times, he fails and the situation worsens. Remember: the situation should worsen. If things stay the same, he still has a problem, but the tension is flat. If his first attempts make things worse, tension rises.

This can play out in many ways in novels. In my first Haunted book, The Ghost on the Stairs, I made sure each ghost encounter felt more dangerous. As Tania tries to get closer to the ghost in order to help her, Jon worries that she will go too far and be injured or even killed. With enough variety, you can sustain this kind of tension indefinitely (witness the ongoing battle between Harry and Voldemort in the seven-book Harry Potter series).

You can worsen the situation in several ways. The main character’s actions could make the challenge more difficult. In my children’s mystery set in ancient Egypt, The Eyes of Pharaoh, a young temple dancer searches for her missing friend. But when she asks questions at the barracks where he was a soldier, she attracts dangerous attention from his enemies.

The villain may also raise the stakes. In my Mayan historical drama, The Well of Sacrifice, the main character escapes a power-hungry high priest. He threatens to kill her entire family, forcing her to return to captivity.

Secondary characters can cause complications, too, even if they are not “bad guys.” In The Ghost on the Stairs, the kids’ mother decides to spend the day with them, forcing them to come up with creative ways to investigate the ghost while under her watchful eyes.

Finally, the main character may simply run out of time. At her first attempt, she had a week. At her second attempt, she had a day. Those two attempts have failed, and now she has only an hour! That creates tension.

Tip: For each turning point in the story, brainstorm 10 things that could happen next. Then pick the one that is the worst or most unexpected, so long as it is still believable for the story.

For more help, see my blog posts on Developing Ideas and Plotting on my Write like a Pro! blog. You might also be interested in the Time Management tips. Or check out my book Advanced Plotting for the advice on getting started and various ways to outline your novel.

Don't worry if you wind up with a big messy draft. That's what National Novel Editing Month (NaNoEdMo) in March is for. You even get to rest for a couple of months before doing that.

Still, if you've developed some good writing habits… try to keep them going!

Chris Eboch’s novels for ages nine and up include The Eyes of Pharaoh, a mystery in ancient Egypt; The Well of Sacrifice, a Mayan adventure; The Genie’s Gift, a middle eastern fantasy; and the Haunted series, about kids who travel with a ghost hunter TV show, which starts with The Ghost on the Stairs. Her writing craft books include You Can Write for Children: How to Write Great Stories, Articles, and Books for Kids and Teenagers, and Advanced Plotting. Learn more at www.chriseboch.com or her Amazon page, or check out her writing tips at her Write Like a Pro! blog.

Plot-Driven or Character-Driven? Why Not Both! by Chris Eboch

Author Chris Eboch

This post is adapted from You Can Write for Children: How to Write Great Stories, Articles, and Books for Kids and Teenagers, from Chapter 5: Characters.

Some authors prefer to start with a plot idea, while others start with an interesting character. Either can work, but ultimately the plot and character must work together. Let’s start with a look at character development, as it intersects with plot.

A strong story needs conflict. Without conflict, you have one of those “slice of life” episodes that isn’t a real story. But conflict doesn’t just come from dramatic things happening. It comes from the character – what he or she needs and wants, and why he or she can’t get it easily. Conflict comes from a character with a problem or a goal.

Let’s start with a premise: a kid has a math test on Monday. Exciting? Hardly. But ask two simple questions, and you can add conflict.

·     Why is it important to the character? The stakes should be high. The longer the story or novel, the higher stakes you need to sustain it. A short story character might want to win a contest; a novel character might need to save the world.

·     Why is it difficult for the character? Difficulties can be divided into three general categories, traditionally called man versus man, man versus nature, and man versus himself. You can even have a combination of these. For example, someone may be trying to spy on some bank robbers (man versus man) during a dangerous storm (man versus nature) when he is afraid of lightning (man versus himself).

For our kid with the math test, here’s one example: It’s important because if he doesn’t pass, he’ll fail the class, have to go to summer school, and not get to go to football camp, when football is what he loves most. Assuming we create a character readers like, they’ll care about the outcome of this test and root for him to succeed.

Our football lover could have lots of challenges – he forgot his study book, he’s expected to baby-sit a sibling, a storm knocked out the power, he has ADHD, or he suffers test anxiety. But ideally we’ll relate the difficulty to the reason it’s important. So let’s say he has a game Sunday afternoon and is getting pressure from his coach and teammates to practice rather than study. Plus he’d rather play football anyway.

We now have a situation full of potential tension. Let the character struggle enough before he succeeds (or fails and learns a lesson), and you’ll have a story. And if these two questions can pump up a dull premise, just think what they can do with an exciting one!

Fears and Desires

As that example shows, conflict comes from the interaction between character and plot. You can create conflict by setting up situations that force a person to confront their fears. If someone is afraid of heights, make them go someplace high. If they’re afraid of taking responsibility, force them to be in charge.

For example, my middle grade fantasy The Genie’s Gift is set in the fifteenth-century Middle East and draws on the mythology of 1001 Arabian Nights. It could have been simply a magical adventure tale, but the main character gives the story depth. She is anything but the typical swashbuckling hero:

“Thirteen-year-old Anise, shy and timid, dreads marrying the man her father chooses for her. Her aunt tells her about the Genie Shakayak, the giver of the Gift of Sweet Speech, which allows one to charm everyone. Anise is determined to find the genie and ask for the gift, so she can control her own future. But the way is barred by a series of challenges, both ordinary and magical. How will Anise get past a vicious she-ghoul, a sorceress who turns people to stone, and mysterious sea monsters, when she can’t even speak in front of strangers?”

Because Anise is so desperate to reach her goal, she tackles challenges far beyond her comfort zone. This makes the dramatic action even more dramatic, while providing a sympathetic character and a theme about not letting your fears stop you from achieving your dreams.

You can also create conflict by setting up situations that oppose a person’s desires. Sometimes these desires are for practical things. In my middle grade mystery set in ancient Egypt, The Eyes of Pharaoh, the main character is a young temple dancer whose one goal is to win an upcoming contest. When her friend disappears, she has to decide if winning the contest is really more important than helping a friend.

Perhaps your character simply wants an ordinary life. In my Mayan historical novel, The Well of Sacrifice, Eveningstar never dreams of being a leader or a rebel. But when her family, the government, and even the gods fail to stop the evil high priest who is trying to take over the city, she’s forced to act. The reluctant hero is a staple of books and movies because it’s fun to watch someone forced into a heroic role when they don’t want it. (Think of Han Solo in Star Wars.)

To build conflict:

·     Start with the character’s goal. Create conflict by setting up situations which oppose a person’s needs and desires.

·     What does your main character want? What does he need? Make these things different, and you’ll add tension. It can be as simple as our football player who wants to practice football, but needs to study. Or it could be more subtle, like someone who wants to be protected but needs to learn independence. (Or the reverse, someone who wants independence but still needs to be protected. Those two characters could even be in the same story. Life is complex, with many shades of gray, and books can explore that.)

·     Even if your main problem is external (man versus man or man versus nature), consider giving the character an internal flaw (man versus himself) that contributes to the difficulty. Perhaps your character has a temper, is lazy, or refuses to ever admit she’s wrong. This helps set up your complications and as a bonus makes your character seem more real.

·     Your character may change or grow as a person during the story. This is called a character arc. A character who changes is usually more interesting than one who does not. However, growth does not always mean a reversal of attitude. The growth can come from reaffirming what the character already knew. For example, a child could know what is right but struggle to do it. In the end he does what is right, growing by following and reinforcing his beliefs.

·     A character’s growth can reflect your theme, by showing what the character learns.

·     Before you start, test the idea by considering different options. Change the character’s age, gender, or looks. Change the point of view. Change the setting. Change the internal conflict. What happens? Choose the combination that has the most dramatic potential.

·     The conflict must be important enough to sustain the story, and it must not be too easy to solve. This will vary by story length and readership age group.

·     It should take more than one attempt to solve the problem – three tries works well for shorter fiction. For longer fiction, add more attempts, or have each attempt made up of several parts.

·     To build original plots, brainstorm 10 possible things that could happen next. Pick the least likely, so long as it makes sense for the story.

Some writers start with plot ideas and then develop the character who’ll face those challenges, while others start with a great character and then figure out what he or she does. Regardless, remember to work back and forth between plot and character, tying them together with conflict.

You Can Write for Children: How to Write Great Stories, Articles, and Books for Kids and Teenagers offers an overview on writing for young people. Learn how to find ideas and develop those ideas into stories, articles, and books. Understand the basics of character development, plot, setting, and theme – and some advanced elements, along with how to use point of view, dialogue, and thoughts. Finally, learn about editing your work and getting critiques.

You Can Write for Children: How to Write Great Stories, Articles, and Books for Kids and Teenagers is available for the Kindle, in paperback, or in Large Print paperback.

Note: If you order the print or large print version from Amazon, you can get the Kindle version as a free add-on. You Can Write for Children includes many links to additional resources; in the Kindle version you can click to go directly to the websites or blogs listed. If you don't have a Kindle, download a free Kindle app for your computer.