The Maze Runner Trilogy & Killing A Reader's Friends

              The Maze Runner.                                  The Scorch Trials.

The Death Cure.

And I just have to say..."Good that." These book were my favorite Young Adult fiction of the year, as I said in my 2013 Summer Reading List and Recommendations. I gushed about them there and in my reviews of the three books, which you can find by clicking through these links: The Maze Runner, The Scorch Trials, and The Death Cure.

But this whole series by James Dashner also taught me some lessons about killing off a reader's friends: the characters.

In my experience, male authors of Young Adult Fiction don't hesitate to break a reader's heart for fear of reader displeasure. Nope. They go there. I wouldn't call them "insensitive" to the reader's emotions, but they aren't entirely "sensitive" either. Perhaps that's a bit of a generalization, but I've noticed it with a couple of them*, including James Dashner.

*Scott Westerfield in his Uglies series is one, and John Green seems to have the same idea, although, I admit I haven't ever finished one of his books.

One particular character in this series stole my heart (typically, if I like a book, it's because a character stole my heart). And then Dashner killed said character. This is something I can understand, even though I hate it. Sometimes, a character must die to keep the integrity of the plot, to teach another character a lesson, or to add another layer of meaning to the message of a novel.

It's a risky move. After all, you want to leave your readers with some happy feelings intact by the end of the story. If you kill off their favorite character, they might just stop reading. Would I have done it what Dashner did? I don't know! He didn't pull any punches with this character--brutal death, very tragic. Still, he did it well. The situation met all of the criteria I mentioned--it kept the integrity of the plot, taught a character (and the world of the book, and a reader) a lesson, and it added layers of meaning to the novel. It still sucks, but I understand.

But then he killed off an interesting character when he could have instead killed off a less interesting secondary character. Granted, I was not even very fond of the interesting character (and from the reviews, I see that most aren't), but the death still shocked me. It was so unexpected and, well, detrimental. Whatever point Dashner was making with that kill, it was fairly lost on most readers. Why kill the interesting one, the one the readers know and understand better?

So overall, Dasher killed off not one but two major characters--one a major favorite, the other a more interesting character than her competitor. I felt like hosting a funeral after reading this series. For days, poor Kevin had to deal with Snivelly Christy asking, “Why? Why did Dashner do it? It’s not fair!” Both kills were very risky moves. On one hand, you don't want your book to be forgettable, and Dashner's work certainly isn't that. On the other hand, you want your readers to care about the resolution. If you lose them when you kill off their favorite characters, or your ending falls flat because you killed off the more memorable or interesting ones...well, you lose readers.

One risk paid off, one didn't. I learned from this, and you can too, Scribbler.

What I learned:

1.) Be in touch with your readers. Give them something to be happy about at the end. Dashner gave a psychologically satisfying ending, but the emotional satisfaction took some time to show up. At first, I just felt like a friend died. I actually had to take a break from reading for a bit and get back some perspective.  I really had to let the novels sit on me before I "got over it" and realized what an unforgettable story they told. I know for a fact that Dashner was sad about killing the first character (my favorite) because he said as much on Twitter. He was in touch, he knew the cost and he paid it.

2.) Be careful who you decide to kill and who you decide leave behind. When Dashner killed off the other interesting character, I thought, "Well, how boring for the survivors!" I'm sure he measured the cost, here, but I think he made the wrong decision.

But this is truly great entertainment, Bandits- 4.25/5 stars, I'd give it. Great "boy" appeal, too. There are few Young Adult books so perfectly geared to male teenagers.

These books are on ebook and audiobook at the library through Overdrive Media Console. They're also available through the free mail order system from nearby libraries (for Lake County Book Bandits). Read them before the movie comes out!!!

The movie is set to open on February 14, 2014 (thanks to GreenBeanTeenQueen's blog for the news).

P.S. Check out this adorbs pic of The Maze Runner actors on set. It's entitled "Maze Life." "Thomas" is the farthest actor to the right.

P.P.S. There is a prequel to this series...and I didn't really like it. It feels sort of irrelevant to the whole series. If you would like to read my review of it, here 'tis.

Permission to Brainstorm, SIR!

     Lately, I've been studying different processes of writing. Most of us have probably heard of the debate between "Outline People" and "No-Outline People," or "Pantsers." (Planners...plan. Pantsers...don't. In case you haven't heard.)

Whichever type of writer we happen to be, I think a little pre-planning can help us.

     Why? Because when we build a story, we want to make sure the foundation is strong. Pre-planning sets up that foundation. It's prep-work. Without a strong foundation (premise & structure), even the best technical writing won't save a story. First, I want to show you a video that helped me discover this (I learned about it in my Commercial Fiction class), then I'll give you a bit more of my opinion on the matter. This video was mind-blowing for me! If you are unsure about your position as a planner or pantser, I hope you'll stick around and watch! It is a portion of an interview with John Truby, a terrific story doctor. He begins by discussing some misconceptions about prewriting, then goes into why many writers fail at the beginning of the writing process.



     We could spend weeks on all the good stuff Truby talks about here, but let's tackle the idea of prep-work and planning from the beginning.
     Obviously, Truby recommends the "planner" method rather than the "pantser" method; he does not acknowledge that some writers plan their story while writing a first draft. If you use this latter method, you are using the "pantser" method. Writing a first draft this way is crazy and creative. Anything can happen. However, after writing that first draft, a pantser almost always needs to throw it out and start anew with the knowledge they've gained from that last attempt. Truby may be assuming that most writers would be discouraged about having to throw out all their work, or he may think the pantser method is worthless. In the case of the latter, he's wrong. After all, it is the method Ray Bradbury used. Worked for him, right? "Pantsing" is a viable method, as long as the writer knows that he'll write a lot of words he won't use.
     Some people like writing this way; not me. I don't like the pantser method because it frustrates me to throw out those masses of words. (Of course, even after planning there will be plenty of rewriting. That's different though--there won't be as many ginormous structural issues if I plan correctly.) I have tested out the "pantser" method for myself. Originally, I wrote my current work-in-progress about a prison break...then I discovered that not all my characters would condone such a thing. I ran right through the first draft (during NaNoWriMo) without realizing this. After spending six months trying to figure out what went wrong, I discovered the flaw in my premise and a whole vein of necessary research I had overlooked. I've been reworking my ideas ever since. I have not begun writing my next draft yet because I just finished researching and am coming to the end of the planning phase. I began my first draft before I was ready because I was in too much of a hurry. I should have taken time to let my ideas "ripen," as Orson Scott Card, the famous Fantasy author, recommends (he is a pre-planner, like me).You'll have to test out each method and find out which kind of writer you are.
     Orson Scott Card wrote that at some point, there will be planning stage. It may be in one form or another, before or after your first draft, with or without outlining, but it will come. Whether you are a planner or pantser, most of your ideas and work will change before you discover your true story.
     Even so, every writer will have a different writing process--two planners may plan differently--so don't be discouraged if you find you have to throw out lots of work before discovering a process that works for you. It's a part of learning! If you like this video of John Truby, I suggest you read this book by him called The Anatomy of Story. You can order it from the local library, if you live around Lakeport, CA. (If not, try your own library!)
     Now, you may be wondering how to begin this so-called preplanning. What does it entail? Remember when John Truby talks about developing a "Premise" or "Logline" in the video? The premise is the beginning. This is kind of a magical concept for me, because I didn't understand it for a while. I'll talk about it in a future post. Next week, we can journey through this drippy, murky cave together. Headlamps, everyone! We're a-goin' spelunkin'! *
     If you have any comments about all this, I'd love to hear them. Have you tried different orders of story process? Tried some preplanning before? What methods, what tools? Or have you gone on that mad dash called NaNoWriMo?

*Here is the promised post on Premise.

Works Cited:

Card, Orson Scott. How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasy. Cincinnati, OH: Writer’s Digest Books, 1990. Print.

Truby, John. The Anatomy of Story: 22 steps to Becoming a Master Storyteller. New York, NY: Faber and Faber, Inc. 2007. Print.

Bridging Conflict

  
     We need bridging conflict in our writing. Without it, our readers will get bored and watch a movie, or pull out a more interesting book.
     So, what is bridging conflict? It’s the smaller conflict that keeps the reader interested during transitions and setups. Much of a novel is setup for the good stuff. By “the good stuff,” I mean the climactic scenes of a novel, the big conflicts. These big conflicts can only have big impact if they are properly set up for the reader. Bridging conflict keeps readers interested in the scenes that set up these major conflicts.
     Conflict is basically code for “another problem our protagonist must solve.” It’s another obstacle. Let’s look at an example to identify the big conflicts in a story, first. Then we’ll be able to see where and why we need bridging conflict. The Hunger Games isn’t a very original example, but the story is a beautiful example of layering conflict.
      Katniss volunteers for The Hunger Games to save her sister. This is big conflict because she’ll most likely die in the arena. But when is the next major climactic scene? When Peeta announces his love for her. And the next? When she begins the games. These are big moments in the story, but there’s a lot of setup that goes in-between these moments. Katniss must endure the capitol’s primping; she must meet her enemies; and we must begin to care about her. In order to get through all this setup, we need bridging conflict.
     So basically, bridging conflicts are smaller conflicts in between the bigger conflicts. They connect the main events…like bridges. They keep readers interested during the transitions. “Bridging Conflict” isn’t just a fancy term—it makes sense.
     Let’s look at an example of bridging conflict from The Hunger Games. When Katniss is running around in the arena, the bloodthirsty Gamemakers burn her leg with a fire ball. This is not a major plot point in the overall picture of the story, but it fills in a lull between major conflicts.
     This example also shows some other desirable characteristics for bridging conflicts. First of all, they must be interesting to the reader. Before to the fireball incident, Katniss was just figuring out how to survive in the wild. The incident forces her to run for her life and she is hurt badly. Then she runs right into the Career killers in the arena (not an accident, as we’ll see below). Life and death stakes grab reader attention—we worry for Katniss.
     Our second desirable characteristic for bridging conflict is that it shows us information. It shows us what the Gamemakers are like—they want to create action for the viewers in the Capitol. It’s their job. The Gamemakers are trying to hurt Katniss badly enough that the Career killers can murder her. The Gamemakers don't want to kill her outright, though, because they want the audience engaged in Katniss's struggle (sick, I know). It also tells us about the viewers in the Capitol, who think it’s all an entertaining game. It shows us how scary this is for Katniss. We realize she must feel like a pawn in their control.
     The third characteristic is that it seems natural. It arises organically from the events of the story all around Katniss, so it doesn't feel manufactured by the author. The Capital and Gamemakers are bloodthirsty, and this is a game of life and death. It makes sense in the context.
     How do we use Bridging Conflict? We create a believable conflict that primes the reader for the bigger, main actions in the story. It may be small thing—an injury, a fight with a friend, a temporary magical shortage, etc., but it will prepare the readers for a major plot point—a friend's betrayal, a death, the loss of a valuable artifact, etc. If your protagonist runs away from home in chapter 3, show a fight in chapter 1 that serves as an impetus for the act of running away. It's a smooth integration of conflict in to your setup chapters. The first few chapters of a novel will often need bridging conflict. As literary agent and author Mary Kole says, “A small conflict right off the bat will get us mildly invested and should carry us for a few pages" (159). If you’ve got a juicy bit of conflict on page 28 that kicks off all the action, that’s good news. You can use Bridging Conflict can carry your readers through whatever setup must come before that point. 
     This is a relatively new concept for me, but now that I understand it, it’s helping me a lot in my own writing. I hope it helps you, too!
     Thanks to Donald Maass for first introducing this topic in Writing the Breakout Novel and thanks to Mary Kole for reminding me of it in her Writing Irresistible Kidlit.

Photo Credit:

By Chosovi (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-2.5 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.5)], via Wikimedia Commons

Works Cited

-Kole, Mary. Writing Irresistible Kidlit. Cincinnati, Ohio: Writer's Digest Books, 2012. Print.
-Maass, Donald. Writing the Breakout Novel. Cincinnati, Ohio: Writer's Digest Books. 2001. Print.
-The Hunger Games. Dir. Gary Ross. Perf. Jennifer Lawrence, Josh Hutcherson, Liam Hemsworth, Woody Harrelson, Elizabeth Banks, Lenny Kravitz. Lionsgate, 2012. BluerayDisc.

 

Beginning With Character Archetypes

     If you are doing NaNo this year, my post may be coming at the perfect time--the beginning of Week 3, when you need inspiration to begin the ending.
     NaNo covers one step in the process of writing a novel: the first draft, or the beginning. You are creating a brand new story. You need inspiration and (if you're like me) a bit of structural advice.
     I'm working on creating a routine for myself to begin writing novels. I need a refresher on story-writing basics when I begin a new story. Refreshers help structure my thoughts, plan a bit, and motivate me to get writing. In my Writing Commercial Fiction class, I was assigned a great video to add to my routine. The video goes over the 8 character archetypes, or "jobs" that must be fulfilled by characters in a story. That doesn't mean you need 8 characters, mind you, but just that there are 8 jobs that need doing. For instance, someone must be the hero, someone must teach the protagonist (the teacher), and someone else should shift beetween sides to heighten tension (the shapeshifter). If you are curious about these jobs, you can watch the video, too! I actually watched it three times. Enjoy and learn, friends.

    


Thanks to Dr. Diorio of Regent University for highlighting this awesome resource!

Works Cited
Juszak, Rob. "Green Man." Wikimedia Commons. 1 Jan 2009. 16 November 2012.http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Green_Man_by_Rob_Juszak.jpg

PHSMr.Wood. "Hero's Journey Archetypes." Youtube.com. 15 Nov. 2011. 16 Nov. 2012. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5rnV9aszXbQ

A Case Study of Plot and Character Problems

    

Fencers, McGill University, Montreal, 1925

http://www.flickr.com/photos/museemccordmuseum/5348752127/

     What with America's Olympians running around in London, now is a good time to discuss crafting our own heroes and their stories.
     We usually have no trouble identifying the hero. You know, the one who lives through a surprise attack of flaming arrows/bullets/raining acid while all of his friends/enemies die around him, then tortures himself for leading them into danger that he never could have anticipated.  Sometimes we can believe in the incredible escapes are believable, and we root for the character to overcome their obstacles...and other times, we don't. Other times we yawn and wish the story was over already. Worse yet, sometimes the protagonist annoys us so much, we root for the other side. Why is that? There are many things that can cause this apathy, but today we'll talk about two reasons I recently identified.
     Not long ago, I read about a fighter heroine (let's call her Racine) that didn't command my belief or sympathy. In her case, there were two reasons for this:
     Reason #1: Credibility of Actions. Story audiences usually have a high level of tolerance for stretching believability, but there still has to be some credibility for the reader to keep engaging. Good storytellers can suspend disbelief. When reading about Racine, I believed she could protect herself from certain things that other people couldn't; however, after a point it became ridiculous.  She was stabbed or shot with arrows several times in the book, but she never took more than a few days rest before hopping back into her usual grueling work. I know that days of black-out sleep make for boring reading, but that's what white space is for. A real person can't run around like that without physical consequences. This story stretched Racine's strength beyond the realms of plausibility.
     So what's Reason #2?
     The Pity Party. Lazy or inexperienced authors characters create problems simply by being self-absorbed. Racine could have solved three and a half out of five of her problems by snapping out of her self-pity. She kept harping on mistakes she made, or things that weren't even her fault. Sure, she made mistakes, but she needed to get over them.  I call this "hero complex," and Racine had it bad. Her self-absorption caused several other problems, like sickness, anxiety among her friends, and broken hearts. In one situation, the her soul mate  practically slobbered his love all over her, but all she said was, "Oh, but he couldn't possibly love Terrible Me. He's just being all flowery." No. He wasn't. Her problems had easy solutions that she couldn't seem to see.
      The author of this book was hinging on people feeling sorry for Racine, and wanting her to succeed. Frankly, the whole book, I was thumping my fist into my forehead saying, "DUH! Just stop being dumb!" (Okay, maybe I didn't really thump my forehead, because then I'd have a bruise, and I can't afford such a blot on my image *hair flip* (( Speaking of hair flips, conceit is rarely a good way to gain reader sympathy either. Unless we're talking about Dagny Taggart. Brag away, dear, I think you've earned it. Or Hank Rearden. SaWOON!)))