by Larry Brooks
This is like trying to describe The Hunger Games like this: “Katniss must overcome overwhelming odds to get back to her family.” Well, sure … that’s great for the book jacket, but for this purpose (analysis, with a view toward getting the story accepted), it totally misses the entire core of the plot, the action, the drama, the ethos. You’ve done the same thing here—you’ve skipped what is important, conceptually, at the core of the story. Read your answers again. You’re circling the wagons without telling us what those wagons are.
This could be simply how you’ve answered the questions, or it could be symptomatic of a story problem at its core. With all good intentions, you may well be lacking relative to this critical story core. However you define this core, it needs to be conceptually compelling. It needs to give your hero something specific to do: a problem to solve, an opportunity to seize, a wrong to right. But again, even after I’ve asked for it, the answer is not here. Yet.
Notice, too, that your answers regarding premise have absolutely no connection to this notion of “connected minds” you introduced in the concept. It’s gone, completely. That’s a sign of a writer who isn’t yet clear on the story she’s writing. You might still be in the “search for story” phase, still drafting, without having landed on the highest, best, most compelling core story.
What dramatic question does this concept ask? (Example: Will Katniss survive the to-the-death contest into which she has been thrust?) The dramatic question is an extension—leading toward a story—of the premise itself.
Will Juvie bring down the Oakland politicos, and in the process of showing her young friend how to change his life, discover that she knows how to change her own? Yes!
Notes from Larry: I like it. I don’t quite love it yet, though … which could be rooted in how you’ve answered rather than in the story plan itself. This question doesn’t seem to connect—yet—to the “one unified mind” concept, though. It’s hard to see how that is being used in the story, how it colors the hero’s journey in any way. Also, what is at stake? What is at risk, what threatens, what is the ticking clock (the essence of a thriller), and why her? You haven’t even hinted yet at what the bad guys are up to.
What does your hero need or want in this story? What is his or her “story journey”? (Note: This is one that stumps a lot of writers, and yet, it’s perhaps the most important thing you need to know about your story. For example, in a concept in which your hero needs to find the man that kidnapped his children, don’t answer this question with something like this: “His primary need is to conquer the inner shyness and hesitation that extends from his childhood as the son of a disapproving father.” That may be the case, but it’s not the answer to the question. For that particular concept, a good answer would be “The hero needs to find the location of the kidnappers soon because his daughter needs medicine and she’ll die before he can scratch up the ransom money.”)
Juvie needs to obtain proof of the City Hall corruption that flows back onto Oakland’s city streets before those two forces combine to neutralize her as a threat. She wants to rekindle her old flame, help her young buddy start a new path in life, and unstick herself from her own rut.
Notes from Larry: It is critical that you define what, specifically, the evil city hall villains are doing. Why? Because we need to care about it, be frightened or disgusted by it. Are they cheating on their expense accounts? That wouldn’t move us. Are they blackmailing local businesses? That’s stronger. Are they covering up corruption, working with the mafia, scamming the local tax coffers, running a prostitution ring? We need to know what, specifically, they are doing, and why Juvie cares about it. Is Juvie diving in simply as a good citizen, or is the corruption touching her life, or someone she knows and loves, directly? Before we can care about her quest in this story, we need to understand the stakes of it, the threat of it, and why she is moved to take action. We need to care. This is an emotional issue, and you need to manipulate the reader into emotional engagement through a better answer, one that would cause us to take action, too.
What is the primary external conflict/obstacle to that need or goal?
The city hall official and the street-level crime lord (and, by extension, all of the street-level hoods involved) who will try to buy Juvie off and scare her to protect their scam. She knows that if they get desperate enough, they’ll kill her.
Notes from Larry: You have some good conflicting elements here, but this answer doesn’t yet seem to embrace any sort of paranormal consciousness, as promised in your concept.
Would corrupt city officials really “buy her off?” How does she threaten them? Moreover, how could a teenager logically and realistically pose a threat to these villains at all? How does she even know about it? It’s not like teenagers, as a rule, are privy to the inner machinations of local politics, so what is Juvie’s window into this dramatic setup? I fear this is too thin; you’re not telling me what I need to know here. Is that because you don’t realize how critical these answers are to the process, or that you truly don’t know the answers at this point?
What are you asking your reader to root for in this story?
The reader needs to root for Juvie to succeed in bringing down the city hall corruption ring and come out of it alive.
Notes from Larry: Good—once you show us why she needs to do this (stakes).
What is the First Plot Point in your story? (Note: This is the most important moment in your story, and it should connect directly to the concept and the dramatic question.)
Lester and Juvie bond through a startling discovery: They can both recall the exact details of a time neither of them ever experienced, and it seems the two knew each other in that long-ago time. When Juvie decides to help Lester (age sixteen), she gets an introduction to Calvin, the crime lord. Just as Calvin gets threatening with Juvie, in walks Calvin’s sister, Q—Juvie’s old flame.
Notes from Larry: When you mention that Lester and Juvie can recall details of a time neither of them has experienced, is this the “one consciousness” thing? If so, good; it’s here after all.
I’m not sure this First Plot Point will work, because it doesn’t obviously launch Juvie down a new path. With more room to answer this, I’m confident you could explain how it does, but it’s vague here. Meeting Calvin—or, perhaps, the reintroduction of the sister—needs to change everything, to swing the gates of the story wide open.
Also, remember that concept you pitched? The one about “collective consciousness”? I’m wondering where that went, and how it relates, even a little bit, to the story you’re describing here. I fear it’s disappeared entirely—which is not a good sign. Concept is important; it is the source of compelling energy for a story, the thing you’ve promised the reader. But I fear you’ve broken that promise, because the concept you pitched has almost nothing to do with the story you then tell.
At what point in your story does your First Plot Point occur? (Note: The optimal location is at the 20th to 25th percentile mark.)
Ideally, the 20th percentile.
Notes from Larry: Yep, that’s ideal. A lot of work to do, though, before this FPP can work.
Do you have another question about your story, concise and linked to the discussion of concept and premise, that you’d like to toss at me?
I’ve been carrying this story around in my head for a while now, and I really want to get a tight, successful draft onto paper. I think I will have questions after I get your responses back. Thanks, Larry.
Notes from Larry: I hope this helps you move toward a more focused story. This has good potential, but after reading it, there is both confusion and lack of clarity on what this story is really about, even though, in asking these very questions, clarity is precisely what was called for. You wrote these answers, so my conclusion is that you are confused and unclear about this story. And that’s a fatal blow.
Again, your answers often read too much like copy on the back of a paperback, and too little like a compelling pitch. The core s
tory, the very thing that must be uncovered, the evil that must be stopped, remains vague. “Corruption” is not precise enough; there needs to be something specific that Juvie must prove and confront. An agent will say, “Fine, but what is the story about dramatically? Who wants what, and why? What opposes that (you dodged that one entirely)? What is at stake, and why? And what does your hero do about it?”
Lots to think about. I wish you well on next steps.
Chapter 15
Case Study Two
When the Brain Dies, the Rest Follows
This story is clearly from an author who has completed a draft. She has a response for everything (not necessarily a bad thing), which means she’s defending rather than speculating on what could be better.
A story needs to work at its highest levels—concept, premise, dramatic question, character motivations, source of dramatic tension—before any of the details of execution matter. It’s like evaluating the air-worthiness of an airplane rolling off the production line; if the engines don’t start, you don’t worry (yet) about the air conditioning. It simply won’t fly.
That’s what I felt about this story. It has potential, but I felt that it was an example of a “pantsed” story that wasn’t built from the ground up, that it was pieced together one scene at a time, based on the author’s sensibilities in a given moment. Unfortunately, in my opinion, the engines aren’t starting. The whole thing needs a tune up.
Current working title: The Knowledge Gems
Genre: Fantasy
Which “voice” will you use: first-person past, first-person present, or third-person omniscient?
Third-person POV protagonist
What is the dramatic concept of your story? (Note: The seed or idea for a story and the concept of a story are usually not the same thing. Also, the theme is rarely part of the answer here.) Try to define the concept in one sentence.
Hollity is an isolated city-state where honesty is treasured and citizens enjoy a good quality of life within a defined social structure. The talented few among the ruling elite are awarded a knowledge gem, a high honor, a “gift from the gods,” which bestows a unique gift to each holder. Zero tolerance to crime means convicts are sent away to fight “bandits,” a punishment from which no one returns. But Hollity is based on a lie: The gems are not god’s gifts, they are mined by slaves on land conquered by Hollity eons ago, and the convicts are sent to protect the mines from rebels determined to take the mines back and destroy the city.
Notes from Larry: Could be interesting. But I have one question already: What’s in it for the Hollity city fathers, the ruling class? All of this seems to be about protecting the mines, which implies (though you don’t say it explicitly) that the mines yield a treasure of some sort. How does Hollity cash in on that treasure? Do they sell the gems somewhere? In such a futuristic fantasy world, gems are worthless, unless they are not worthless, which means that they have value, something worth protecting. Especially in this case, since you imply that the entire culture and the city itself depends on the mines … but for what? Gems? That’s fine, but what do they do with the gems that sustains the people, gives them power, or otherwise makes the gems the centerpiece of everything?
This is important, because the concept of the city (Hollity) has to make sense. Gems don’t make sense as The Most Important Element of Life unless they are valuable for some reason. Do these gems have power? (And, if so, then that is the heart of the concept.) What is the “gift” you mention? And cities in reality never rely on gems; they rely on mining, perhaps, but only because they sell what has been mined.
In The Hunger Games, the games make sense because the president and the Capitol City cheeses use them to oppress the twelve districts. The games have a purpose in that regard, so the concept is legitimized. At a glance, your concept doesn’t quite sell itself as logical. But this is easily fixed by making it logical and more clear in that regard.
Restate your concept in the form of a “What if?” question. (Example: What if a major religion employs a secret sect of killers to keep its darkest secret secure? Notice how that question doesn’t speak to the theme; it speaks to plot and dramatic tension, which is the role of concept.)
What if an idyllic city-state, which places high value on honesty, is built on a lie? What if its knowledge and wealth, which come from highly prized magical gems, are the fruits of slavery? What if rebels want to destroy the city and take back what they believe is theirs?
Notes from Larry: This is better, but I think you’ll need to sell it. Magical gems? In what way? How does this give the city power and sustenance? And—putting on my cynic hat here—even if it’s a lie, will the people really care? The key dramatic tension implied here—that the rebels are seeking to reclaim the mines—is interesting. But the lie itself … it’s like how Europeans stole North America from the Indians … nobody cares about that anymore. (That’s not to say that the Europeans stealing a continent from the Indians isn’t a good story. Does your story spin on a similar culture-theft in this way?) So why will the people of Hollity care about this lie of how the mines were acquired?
I’ll assume you’ll sell this within the story—early—and I’ll move forward under that assumption. That said, it’s a little thin as described.
State the premise of your story. (Note: Concept and premise are different things, much like stone and statue. A statue can be made out of any number of things, including stone. One is substance, the other form.)
A talented student and herb healer, Fantine, striving for a prized knowledge gem, is unfairly failed in a crucial test by her teacher. When a gem is stolen, Fantine is wrongly convicted after being betrayed by her best friend, Berry (the teacher’s daughter), and sentenced to fight the “bandits,” a punishment assumed to be a death sentence.
Notes from Larry: This is a good opening hook and Part One setup. But you need to bring these elements, which at a glance are separate threads, together in a single dramatic thread. What does her failing the test have to do with the betrayal of her friend, and what does either of those have to do with Fantine being sentenced to fight the bandits? Whether this works depends on how you tie all of it together. It won’t work if it ends up being “here’s a bunch of stuff that happens in this city.”
Arriving at the far-away prison camp, she learns that her world is based on a lie: The gems are mined by slaves on land stolen by Hollity.
Notes from Larry: Again … she learns about the lie, but so what? There has to be stakes involved with that realization, a forthcoming mission that has purpose.
Finding herself caught in the middle of a rebel attack on the mines, Fantine gains incredible gem powers whilst saving the life of her lover. Against the odds, she makes it back to Hollity, determined to clear her name, bringing with her the dangerous truth about the real origin of the gems.
Notes from Larry: How does she obtain her “incredible gem powers”? This could seem contrived. You need to know how and why she, and not others, acquire “powers” from a gem, when everyone there is dealing with gems in their role as slave miners.
You’re betting the story on the reader’s buy-in. So far, it’s thin ice, I think. How does having the gem clear her name, and, again, why and how is exposing the truth “dangerous”? That’s critical to the premise. You have to make it dangerous, because a lie from the past is not inherently dangerous, even if it’s shocking or scandalous.
Provide the synopsis for your story.
1. Fantine, a talented natural healer and class outsider, is unfairly failed on a test by a jealous teacher.
2. Scenes that introduce Fantine’s talent and kindness, her unusual family background, the importance of the prized knowledge gems, and the social structure of Hollity, which unfairly discriminates against her.
3. After a gem is stolen, Fantine is wrongly accused and convicted, following a betrayal by her best friend, and is punished by being sent to the gem mines on a one-way journey.
4. On the way, she is betraye
d by her new friend Dac and on arrival realizes that Hollity’s power is based on a lie: The gems are mined by slaves on stolen land. After Dac comes back for her, she finds herself in the hands of rebels who want to reclaim the mines.
5. She unlocks a gem and is bestowed with energy healing, but not only that, she can use it in combination with the herb healing. This is unique, but the rebels take the gem away to deny her the chance to bond to its powers.
6. The rebels renege on their promise to free Fantine and Dac after she heals the rebel leader. They drag Dac on a suicide mission to bomb the mines.
7. Dac makes it back to her but is dying of his injuries. Fantine discovers she doesn’t need the gem to do energy healing; she has bonded to it immediately. This is unheard of.
8. She escapes with Dac and heads to Hollity not only to clear her name but to save the city, knowing she could face execution on return. It’s a race against time to get there before the rebels do. During a rebel attack she discovers she can unlock every gem and her powers deter the rebels. She is truly unique and special.
9. She gets home, finds out the truth about the original betrayal, is pardoned, and is the only one who can save the city from the rebel assault.
What dramatic question does this concept ask? (Example: Will Katniss survive the to-the-death contest into which she has been thrust?) This is often an extension—leading toward a story—from the dramatic question itself.