Matt Black's Writing Attack: Making Bad Writing Good and Good Writing Great

Chapter 3. What's the STORY, morning glory?

So, a question? Have you ever asked yourself, What exactly is a story? What makes it tick? What's at the heart of this thing called "Story"? If you haven't or never thought to do so, yet you want to write a story ... what the heck? What gives? How the hell can you do a thing without really ever thinking about what it is you are doing?

Forgive me. That may seem mean, and I don't intend to be hurtful. What I want to suggest, though, is that many people who want to write a story haven't really examined what "story" entails. There's a common assumption, I think, that we just know what story is. After all, we are immersed in a narrative culture from almost the moment we are born. Stories are read to us. We learn to read stories in school. We listen to stories on the radio. We watch stories on television, on the internet, in theaters, and in playhouses. How can we not know what a story is!

Well, then, what is it that TRULY turns writing into STORY? Do you know the secret and single necessary ingredient?

They say, (whoever they are, those all-knowing beings who guide the universe of literature, I suppose) anyhow, THEY say that there are five elements to a story. So let's start there. You probably already know the five elements like the back of your hand, but for shits and giggles let's repeat them: plot, theme, setting, character, and conflict.

Good. If we can agree that these things do indeed comprise the core of what "story" is, then we have a place to start. If we can't, well then, I guess we also have a place to finish, because quite frankly, that's the assumption, the a priori, I am taking as the foundation for the rest of this essay. So, agree to disagree and we'll talk about something else tomorrow.

But if you do accept these elements as the foundation of "story," let's continue, shall we?

A story, then, as we currently define it is a thing with plot, theme, setting, characters, and conflict.

But do any of these elements matter more than any others?

I would say, Yes! Absolutely Yes!

To begin, let's take a closer look at plot first of all. What is plot? Actually, it's a term that probably comes from geometry or cartography, the idea of mapping out the sequence of the events in your story. That's all it is. A map of what happened. But in order to have plot, well, you kinda have to have a story, don't you? To me, plot is something that comes after...here's the story I have to tell, now let's record. It sort of exists in a de facto sort of way. You wrote a story, so you have to have a plot. Know what I mean? So let's step away from plot as something that makes a story, and think of it instead as something story makes. If making a story is a sort of chemical reaction ... plot is the result, not the key ingredient.

Okay. Theme is next, right? Theme to me (and others like Louise Rosenblatt) is something generated between reader and text, not necessarily reader and author. Authors can suggest themes intentionally, but readers may well infer something else based on what they bring to the text. If you were ever annoyed by an English teacher telling you what a dead author intended, I think you get my point. Who the hell knows what the author intended? Especially dead ones. When it comes to theme, what matters is what the reader can construct and support from the text—we don't need the author's approval for this at all! So, theme, like plot, is just gonna happen if we tell a story, whether we "intend" it or not. Therefore, like plot, theme is not what defines a story. It is what occurs as a result of a story. So let's move on.

Next up? Setting. Time and place. Where and when. I can actually imagine a story where neither of these things is directly articulated and yet we still have story...so right there we can see that setting isn't the engine that drives the bus we call story. But perhaps I digress. Let's instead look at setting a bit more optimistically. Stories, once they exist, do exist, however abstractly, in a time or many times and a place or many places. True enough. But much like plot and theme, once we write a story, these things can take care of themselves without much attention from the author. That would be a mistake, of course. Generally, readers enjoy a little attention to the setting.

But let's flip this on its head. Imagine pages and pages that only describe setting. The writer gives us lots of color. Precise details on the movement of time. Tick tock. Stunning descriptions of every object in the room. Beautiful. Informative. And quickly boring. Why? Because it is not story. It's exposition.

Plot. Theme. Setting. Characters? How about characters? I've often heard readers comment that they love a story because they were invested in the characters. Fair enough, and more on that in a later blog. But let's first focus on story, shall we? What if we only concerned ourselves with creating characters. Really awesome characters with unique physical and emotional flaws and strengths. Detailed histories and thorough psychological profiles? Eating habits? Hygiene routines? Favorite colors? Allergies? In other words, what if all we wrote for our stories was character description? Would that be story? No. It, too, would be exposition. The kind of stuff readers complain about as "info dumping."

In short, none of these elements of a story are the heart of a story. Only one is. Conflict. Until we add conflict to the mix we don't have story, my friends. Story is conflict. Story is a problem and typically its solution. But once the problem is solved? Your story is over.

I'm sure in reading this, you may have disagreed from time to time along the way. Especially with setting and character. But the truth is, the other elements of a story work in service to the central conflict of a story...or if they don't, they often detract from the story's development.

No, you say. This is ALWAYS true. Maybe you're thinking something like, without the story taking place during winter, the man wouldn't have frozen to death...or without that child's traumatizing past with Voldemort, he would never have felt compelled to save the world. Yes, these examples involve setting and character ... but setting and character in the service of conflict. Freezing to death. Saving the world.

Just ask yourself, when did plot, theme, setting, or character actually matter to the story? I bet you discover it's when they are tied somehow to the central conflict or a problem of some sort.

So, then. Two definitions of story for you. Story is ...

1. A problem. Meh.

2. A problem involving "people" in a place and unfolding over time until a solution is reached.

The first definition is simple and true. But it gets a lot of new writers in trouble. They start writing, and they sense they have a story unfolding because they've got a killer problem...but they haven't gone so far as to figure out the solution. This often leads to " problem meandering" and stories that wither on the vine. More on this later, but yes, I'm pointing at you, seat-of-the-pantsers!

So, I'd go with the second definition, personally. That said, ask yourself these two vital questions about your story:

What is the central problem and how is it solved?

When you can answer those two things, you're truly ready to rock-n-roll!

If you can't answer them, please stop writing and think it through. You'll thank me later, I promise. One of these days, I'll set up a Ko-fi account, and you can buy me a cup of coffee.

Seriously, though, as you write, constantly remind yourself of your story's central problem and its solution. Sometimes one or the other or both need to be tweaked to incorporate a new idea. That's fine. But the problem and the solution should be at the core of your story. Everything else should work in conjunction with these ideas. In service to those ideas. Make the problem greater. Make the solution more exciting, unexpected.

Got it? Good. Glad we had this talk. Now go out there and make beautiful problems with far out solutions for others to enjoy!