Writing a character

Don't put yourself into your character's situation. Put your character into your character's situation, and let him do what he would do.

If the character goes into the basement of the deserted house and finds it full of rats, I would leave. But the character might get a crowbar and wade in. Or he might get a shotgun out of the back of his car. Or he might burn the house down. Or hire someone else to go open the door at at the bottom of the basement. Might get a 55 gallon drum full of cats and roll it down the stairs. But if you write what you would do, and you aren't the protagonist, then you're going down the wrong path and wasting your typing.

Advanced Writing Workshop: Plotting

Notes from the workshop given at MarsCon by Allen Wold.

There are some questions that every story must answer. If you lack one of these elements, you may have a piece of literature but you do not have a story. Answer each one before going on to the next.

• Who is your protagonist?
• What is the opening setting--the place where the character starts?
• What is happening at the start? (Always start from "your character's normal situation". You may start telling the story from some point after this but you need to know what his "normal" is).
• What does he really want?
• What is the starting event? (the beginning of the tale is some decision which has inevitable consequences)
• What ending do you the writer want?
• What strength does your character not know he has?
• What is his weakness?
• Who helps him along the way?
• What are the obstacles standing in his path?
• What significant change happens to the world as a result of this? What has been done that can't be undone?

When you have all this, you have enough for a story. You may change some of it as you go along, but this will get you started. Plot is what happens between the hero's beginning and the author's ending.

Example: Star Wars

• Who is your protagonist? Luke Skywalker
• What is the opening setting--the place where the character starts? He's a farmer in a desert.
• What is happening at the start? (Always start from "your character's normal situation". You may start telling the story from some point after this but you need to know what his "normal" is). He's picking out new droids.
• What does he really want? To become an Imperial fighter pilot.
• What is the starting event? (the beginning of the tale is some decision which has inevitable consequences) He picks a droid who has a message from a princess.
• What ending do you the writer want? Death Star go BOOM.
• What strength does your character not know he has? The Force is strong with that one.
• What is his weakness? He doesn't know about the Force, the Jedi, the Rebellion, the...
• Who helps him along the way? R2, Obi-Wan, Han "I shot first" Solo, and Leia.
• What are the obstacles standing in his path? The Empire and particularly Vader.
• What significant change happens to the world as a result of this? What has been done that can't be undone? Luke is a hero of the Rebellion.

Cowladin the Paladin: Slave Pens

(a bit of World of Warcraft fiction)

On the other side of the teleportal, it was dark. Cowladin hefted his war maul and waited for his eyes to adjust from the harsh sun of Thrallmar. He could hear dainty footsteps, and the sound of someone brushing his clothes. Or her clothes. With elves, you couldn't really tell. There were three elves in fancy dress, plus a silent, nondescript troll in nondescript leather armor with a pair of nondescript knives at his belt. The elves all had complicated religious or magic symbols embroidered on their brocade robes, and they were probably all named Tirralirralalirrasirra, or something of that sort. Well, he didn't really have to keep track of which one was which; as long as the healer spells landed on the good guys, and the mage spells landed on the bad guys, that would be good enough.

“Moo,” he said by way of greeting, and added, “Where are we?”

“Thangarmarth, darling,” lisped one of the elves.

“Zangarmarsh, as in mud, flies, mosquitoes, gnats, and nagas?”

“No, darling. Well, yes, nagas, but there are no nasty bugs here,” piped another elf. Or maybe the first one. “We are in a cavern under the great lake. The water is kept out by magic, inferior to the elvish sort of magic of course, but effective enough. There’s no way for insects to get in.”

“Specifically we’re at the slave pens,” added the third elf, or maybe the second one. They all looked alike, as far as Cowladin could tell. “We’re going to kill the slave masters and release the slaves. Unless they’re particularly yummy slaves, in which case we might keep them for ourselves!”

Cowladin scratched his mane. “So…we’re under thousands of tons of water?”

“Yeth, darling.”

“Said water being held up only by the magic of the naga lords?” He muttered the ritual to bless his fellow adventurers.

“Yes, of course.”

“The naga lords we’re here to kill?”

“Yes!”

Another elf put in "Speaking of yummy, you look pretty yummy yourself, big boy. What are you doing after we finish here?"

Cowladin ignored the elf’s flirting. “So…we’re going to kill the naga lords whose magic is the only thing keeping the water from flooding this cavern and drowning us all?”

“Exactly!”

“And we’re not anticipating any problems from this?”

The elves looked at each other and shrugged in a beautiful, elegant, and uncomprehending way.

Cowladin sighed. “As soon as we kill the last naga lord, the magic stops, the place floods. Right?”

One of them said, “Well, I suppose it might. Why? Oh, yes, I see what you’re worried about! Tons of water thundering in, picking up huge boulders and knocking things about, drowning any non-yummy slaves, sloshing swirls of black mud and silt all around and covering everything with yucky stuff. But don’t worry about it. The décor here was all done by nagas. If it all gets destroyed, it’s probably just as well. Although the nagas do have some quite exotic leather gear, and I'd loooove to pick up some of that."

The troll perked up at that, drew his knives and glided silently down the path to scout ahead.

Cowladin shrugged. “I was more concerned about the ‘us not getting drowned’ part, but I suppose I can bubble hearth if I have to.” He slung his maul over his back, hefted his shield into place, and drew his cutlass. "For the Herd!"