Guest Bloggers Anah Crow and Dianne Fox - The Shape of the Story

There’s a saying on the Write To Work blog we’re sharing and Anah put it there to remind herself and any other writers who drop by: Is namhaid an cheird gan í a fhoghlaim. It reads, “The craft is an enemy when not learned.” As we’re working on our craft, we’ve been taking a look at plot structure. It’s kind of fun to play with.

Structure is not usually visible. If it’s done well, it’s felt more than seen. We recognize it subconsciously because it’s at the core of every story we’ve been told since we were kids. We expect it. There are two common structures that are the foundation of most stories we know: the line and the circle. Sometimes they can even exist in the same story—a linear story in terms of fortune and geography, a circular story in terms of the heart.

Put simply, the line is a trip to a new place. You leave the apartment on the last day of your lease, hand over the keys, walk out into the bright and hopeful day to find that your car won’t start. The door behind you is closed, you can’t go back. Your phone is packed in a box somewhere, you lose your wallet, miss the bus, anger a bank manager, befriend a homeless man, meet his wealthy brother, and hop into his private limo for a ride to your new apartment

A circle returns you to the place from which you started. Perhaps looked at from the side it’s more of a spiral, because on one plane you progressed but, on the face, you return to your starting place. In most books, that place is a positive one. You leave home for university, crossing the threshold of admission. You struggle with finances and romances, overcome one challenge after another until you find true love. You cross the threshold of marriage and find yourself home once again.

We thought the best way to play with these structures was to match them up to the movies that we’ve known and loved. In hopes of including as many people as possible, we picked some classics: PRETTY WOMAN, DIRTY DANCING, ROMANCING THE STONE, and AN OFFICER AND A GENTLEMAN.

Pretty Woman is a linear story for the heroine, an uphill climb in which she finds love, leaves sex work, and attains a new social status. She faces a variety of challenges, including the dismissive salesgirls at the dress shop, the polo event, and the aggressive come-on and insults from the hero’s lawyer. In the end, as she prepares to rescue herself from a life she no longer wants by leaving to earn a GED, the hero arrives to help her complete her journey, bringing her back with him into his world.

Dirty Dancing is circular, a trip into the ‘other world’ of summer holidays from which the heroine returns to the same life she left as a different, wiser person. She faces obstacles in her path—the performance at another resort, going to her father for help in an emergency—and the process of overcoming those obstacles and her experiences with the dancers and resort staff change her. At the end she re-enters her parents’ world and, in conquering her final challenge, brings the resort staff with her, effectively bringing the two worlds together even as she returns home.

Romancing the Stone is linear for the hero, he gives up his former life of adventure to be by the side of his new love—the movie ends with his boat being trailered through the streets of New York City as he comes to a new home. For the heroine, the plot is cyclical, as she begins the movie submitting a manuscript and returns home to do the same.

An Officer and a Gentleman is circular for the hero because he crosses a threshold into a time of testing and emerges on the other side in almost the same place he left, only as a better person. For the heroine, the story is linear, an escape from the grind of the working class life. She also breaks the cycle that has trapped many women in her area, including her mother, finding herself a real love instead of being briefly seduced by a man on his way to better things.

Some readers may prefer one form of story over another, same with writers. Anah loves to write plots that are linear in terms of character fortunes and development but does find a certain satisfaction in bringing stories full circle. However, she prefers to read linear plots. Dianne prefers to write linear plots, but likes looking at them in terms of the cyclical story in order to dig up more details and new ways of looking at the same events. Like Anah, though, she prefers to read stories in which the primary plot is linear.

Is there a plot structure that you prefer? Are you an eclectic who goes for spirals or frames or other esoteric shapes? Are your favorite stories laid out with cyclical plots or linear ones?

Anah Crow and Dianne Fox have been writing together for years, in a variety of genres. You can find them at www.anahcrow.com, www.foxwrites.com, as well as anahcrow.livejournal.com and diannefox.livejournal.com. You can also find them on Twitter as @anahcrow and @diannefox, or sign up for their newsletter at http://www.foxwrites.com/newsletter.

Surviving Winter

It's snowing...again.

By the end of today we'll have had about two feet dumped on us in the last couple of days. I don't think Mother Nature got the message that the ground hog didn't see his shadow. She really should be wrapping things up by now I think. On top of the snow, my boys are home and hyped up by the unexpected day off from school. The way I see it, I only need a few select things to get me through the day and the rest of the winter.

1. A plow service. My arms are really tired of shoveling, and with a temperamental snow blower, I've been doing a lot of shoveling. But now that the banks are taller than I am in places, I'd have better luck slaying demons than tossing heavy piles of snow above my head.

2. A personal chef. One that wouldn't mind cooking topless and showing off a yummy six pack I can admire while I'm sipping wine and watching him whip me up a feast.

3. Kids that will clean their own rooms. Which is probably even less likely than number four.

4. Gerard Butler. I think this one is pretty self explanatory. :)

5. Someone to finish my book. Yes, headphones are my friend, especially when the musical sounds of Barney are competing with Super Mario Galaxy and the yells of fierce competition between my boys, but even I can only be so productive under those conditions.

What about you? What do you need to get through the rest of winter, or even just the rest of the week?

Promo Items--What's Your Fantasy?

Cue the Ludacris...and ignore me if the music reference makes no sense.

As you all know (or now know), the Romantic Times convention is fast approaching, and we Nine have spent far too long agonizing over the best promo stuff--yes that's the Official Author Term. Instead of wringing my hands and trying to guess what readers (which includes other writers) want from us, I'm asking you!!


So...if you were going to a conference, what non-book swag do you want to leave with? Bookmarks, postcards, excerpts, tchotchkes, pens/pencils...temporary tattoos? Magnets?

And aside from what items are cool, which ones have/would make a lasting impression on you--something unique, practical, pricey, etc?

Personally, I like leaving with pens because they're useful--we're writers, after all. But if 100 writers all offer pens, well, single names will get lost in the fray and really, I don't need that many writing utensils. That being said, if a certain group of almost-ten awesome writers were to offer badass pink pens, I'd be stocking up there. Just sayin'.

I also like cover flats, but they're less practical, unless they're signed. And even then, they'll probably just find their way into my memory box to never again see the light of day.

Your turn! Help a Naughty out!

I Love CA!

I realized today that I haven't posted an ode to my adopted home state in a really long time. To be honest, part of the reason is because lately I haven't been feeling the love for Cali like I used to. It's hard times in the Golden State with eight (I think) cities making Forbes "20 Most Miserable Cities in America" list and most state agencies cutting back on hours and staff to the point where  there's very little here that still works like it's supposed to. I mean, four months to get your new driver's license mailed to you? And that's on top of the two hours you had to wait in line at the DMV to renew it! 

Yeah. Not exactly efficient. Good thing we're as laid back as we are...never mind all the road rage you've heard tell of.

This is not the state I fell in love with all those many years ago (never mind how many! ). This is not the state I celebrated in book after book after book, or whose loss I mourned loudly and obnoxiously every single muggy day of the year-and-nine-months I had to live in Florida.

Sorry, Florida. It's not you, it's me.

Recently, I've even given serious thought to making my home elsewhere. Hawaii, for instance. Or Belize, Ecuador, Tonga, New Zealand...or any of the other places my peripatetic, empire-building hubby has his eye on.

Now, if I could just figure out how to get my dog out there...

But this week, I think I might be falling back in love with California. It helps that the sun's finally out--after a solid year of unusually cold and wet. It helps that the cherry blossoms and daffodils are in bloom. But what really sealed the deal was the cuisine.

See, I'd been having a bad week. A really bad week. I'd already given myself a fat lip and a twisted ankle--in separate household accidents. I'd lost the insurance card to my jeep (still no idea where it could have gone) and nearly blew up my son's car when the coolant ran low and the hood release malfunctioned. 

Then, every computer in the house apparently decided that, President's Day--it's not just for humans anymore! And staged a work stoppage. Really weird glitchy things which spontaneously corrected themselves for no apparent reason.

And it was still only Tuesday morning!

So, when my daughter (brilliant young woman that she is) suggested we drive up to Sonoma for lunch I jumped all over the idea.  Right after my insurance agent emailed me a replacement insurance card, of course. Have I mentioned lately how much I love, love, love the internet? Well, when it's working, anyway.

The drive up was gorgeous (even if entirely too many of the other drivers were insisting on taking the meandering country roads at unsafe speeds, imo). The grass was green. The mustard was in bloom. The grapevines were budding. And the hills were dotted with painted, wooden cut-outs of sheep...

Yeah, that part was a little odd, actually.

We made good time and found a parking space (no meters--yes!) right smack in front of one of our favorite restaurants, the Plaza Bistro.

See that black car? That's not ours, but that's where we were parked.

The bistro features "wine country cuisine".  Translated, that means their dishes rely heavily on local fruit and veggies--whether fresh, dried or roasted; seafood (it's complicated); organic meat--especially lamb...which may account for the sheep cut-outs, I guess; edible flowers; as well as olives, great bread and goat cheese. Lots of goat cheese. And also, of course, wine.

You can order a glass of zinfandel (and I've been on a serious zin kick lately) with your cheeseburger and fries (or your open-faced grilled portabello sandwich with roasted red peppers, spinach and chevre on focaccia) and no one will bat an eye.  Trust me on that.

We got a table by the window, looking out at the town square. We drank great wine, (well, one of us did, anyway) ate great food, eavesdropped on incredibly silly conversations. By the time the  last of the creme brulee with fresh berries was eaten I couldn't even remember what I'd been worked up about. I was as relaxed as if I'd just spent the day at a spa. 

Although, for the sake of accuracy, I suppose I really should drive up to Calistoga next week and spend a day at the hot springs, just to compare...

Totally Inappropriate Sex

So I’m reading this historical, never mind by whom, and the hero and heroine, as so often happens in historicals, are on the run. They’re being pursued by hostile forces who will kill them if they’re found, probably with a little extended torture along the way. Moreover, they’ve only just met, having made a mutual escape pact to try to get them through the perilous country ahead. They’re hiding out, trying not to be found by the aforementioned murderous troops. Oh, and the hero is wounded and ill. So what’s foremost in the hero’s mind? How much he wants to have sex with this mysterious woman.

Yeah. Right.

As most of us are only too well aware, romance is far from the most realistic genre out there. Not that I’m against this, necessarily. Realism isn’t high on my list. And some sex scenes that take place under weird circumstances are fun—Larissa Ione has her paranormals make out in a snow-choked forest and it’s really hot. But there are limits. Trust me, there are going to be times when sex is not uppermost in a person’s mind, even if you’re a Really Hot Guy or One Sexy Babe. Some of these times include

1. When you’re being closely pursued by a hostile army and your companion is someone you hardly know.

2. When your companion is so annoying readers want to give him or her a quick kick—contrary to the logic of a lot of Hollywood romcoms, being annoying is not a turn-on for most of us

3. When you’ve just discovered a corpse

4. When you’re hiding from a supernatural being who wants to drain some of your favorite bodily fluids

5. When you’ve been through some kind of physical ordeal that’s left you broken, bleeding, and totally exhausted.

I have, in fact, encountered sex scenes that took place in circumstances that were very similar to all five of these examples. And I have to admit, occasionally I’m willing to give the author a bye, if she’s good enough at setting up the characters. But for the most part, nah.

Yes, sex is a big part of romances, and most of the time I’m willing to accept the idea that romance heroes and heroines are just exceptionally randy. But every once in a while, I find myself going, “Really? Now? They want to do it now? Are they totally insane?” At least the author could have waited until the hero and heroine had gotten around to introducing themselves.

So how about you? Have you run into scenes where you totally couldn’t believe anybody would be interested in sex? Or are you more tolerant than I am (a very likely possibility)?

Guest Blogger Miranda Baker - Good Stress

I went to see my chiropractor a few months ago. When it was my turn, Dr. Lori grabbed me by the big toe and said, “Hey Miranda, what’s up with the books?”

So I told her. I said “Bottoms Up comes out next week. My editor thinks we should release SoloPlay in April. I have a print publishing offer and they want the sequel by July. And the community college asked me to teach two classes in the spring.” I was sure she could feel tension vibrating through my toes.

“All good stress! That’s fabulous!” she said.

Whoa. I went limp, and she proceeded to rearrange my bones and muscles while I rearranged my head. Good stress. What a concept.

By the time she made it up to my neck, I had decided she was a genius. Good stress is chosen. It means you are in control. It’s not the sick kids, death in the family, money trouble, fighting with the partner, inexplicable creeping rash kind of stress. Good stress is the promotion at work, scary opportunity, raise your game kind of stress. The end result of the good stuff is something positive – for me, it means launching my writing career while buying groceries with my teaching money.

However, good stress is still stressful. Even though I love my jobs, I see a huge, looming, rocky, tree-lined mountain of work between me and July (when my struggles will be over… Shh, humor me). I realized I needed a plan, the equivalent of mountain climbing gear – hiking boots, a backpack, trail mix and lots of water. Or in my case – vitamins, a thousand words a day, regular exercise to keep me from curling over my keyboard like a cooked shrimp and lots of water.

What about you? How do you cope with good stress? I’d say I’m about halfway up my mountain now, but if you have extra gear I’d love to share the journey.

About Miranda Baker

It makes me chuckle to think about all the romantic short stories I wrote in my rather too literary creative writing classes in college. If only one of my professors had steered me toward popular fiction! On the other hand, if I had discovered my calling back then, I wouldn’t have gone to culinary school, I wouldn’t have met my husband, we wouldn’t have had three children and I wouldn’t have turned to erotic romance to get my mojo back during all this hair-raising kid raising.

Raising Myself

They say women fall in love with men who remind them of their fathers. I certainly did, and I'm fortunate for it. I knew when I married the Hub what I was in for.

But when I had the Diva, I had no idea I'd end up raising myself. She's her own person, of course, unique and irreplaceable, but she has so many of my traits, both good and bad, that it sorts of amazes me.

Smart mouth with precociously large vocabulary? Check.

Weight problems? Check.

Allergies and ADD? Check. (I really wish I could tell my dad, "Hey! I was never an airhead! I'm ADD!")

Math handicap? Check.

Early onset puberty? Hasn't happened yet, but there are definite indications that it's coming.

Her self-esteem is much better than mine was at that age, and she has tons more social confidence. Sure, now I'm a talkative extrovert, but back then I was a timid little thing.

She has my good traits, too: a sunny disposition and slow temper, the ability to get along with most anyone.

And she has my imagination. She sometimes has vivid nightmares, and she can't always turn off her head. When she first complained of being plagued by "bad thoughts," I knew exactly what she meant. I fear there may be anxiety attacks in her future.

She inhales books, as I did. If the book really grabs her, she imagines herself as a character in it and starts spinning new stories; apparently she's a member of the LEPRecon force (from the Artemis Fowl series) as well as a Knight of Crystalia (from Brian Sanderson's Alcatraz series). I was a member of Robin Hood's band, and later I was Aragorn's girlfriend after he dumped Arwen. I expect her to write fan fiction one day.

Oh, yeah -- she's a writer, too. A good one.

I hear her in the shower, trying out the dialogue of a story she's inventing. I did that. She says the stories come to her in daydreams, and she can't stop them - the characters are talking to each other in her head. Yep, me too (wish I'd had the ADD medication she's on). Are the characters in her head talking only to each other, I asked, or do they ever talk directly to her? She says they only talk to each other. I said cool--that's the difference between creativity and psychiatric intervention.

She complained recently that it's difficult to get the stories out of her head and onto the paper--she finds it hard to start writing if she doesn't already know how the whole story goes. I told her about Nora's dictum -- that you can't revise a blank page, but you can revise crap. Just get the story on paper, then make it better. She liked that.

So now you're wondering if I'd like to share a little bit of her efforts? Well, of course I would. Here's the opening to The Story of Christopher Fang, transcribed exactly as she wrote it, save for some punctuation assistance (she's mysteriously averse to commas).

The Story of Christopher Fang

It was a quiet night. The Fang family sat on the top deck of their boat. Six month old Christopher lay in his mother’s arms. Little did they know that the biggest storm in history on that sea was coming their way.

The storm was coming at a tremendous speed. By the time the two adults noticed, it was too late, the storm hit, Mr. and Mrs. Fang were swept off the deck and Chris was tossed down below deck. The storm raged and raged, and all Chris could do was scream. Five days later, the storm stopped. Chris was extremely hungry and tired. A mother wolf smelled and heard something, so she took her puppies and went to the boat to see. When she found Chris, she decided to take care of him.

That's a great hook, don't you agree?