What Does James Scott Bell Have To Say About Theme?

I've been studying a book by Larry Brooks called Story Engineering: Mastering the Six Core Competencies of Successful Writing. When I got to the chapter on theme, I found my eyes glazing over as I read. I didn't get it. Theme isn't tangible, like a character's hair color or a villain's choice of weaponry, and understanding intangible things isn't part of my skills set. So I went to my personal library and grabbed a couple of books that had something to say about theme. James Scott Bell's book Revision & Self-Editing had an entire chapter devoted to the subject, so I had to check it out and pass along to you my new-found wisdom.

Bell says theme is a big idea, a message that the story contains. "Look to the characters, and what they're fighting for, and you'll find the theme of your story."

That doesn't sound too hard. Then he says something even more comforting: "Don't worry about theme. Worry about struggle. Give your characters humanity and passionate commitment to a set of values. Set them in conflict and as they fight, the theme will take care of itself." I love that last part! It will take care of itself. I don't have to worry about...

Then I remembered that Larry Brooks said that we shouldn't let theme just happen -- we should consciously build it into our stories, or we might end up with a mess. Which is correct? Build it myself, or let it happen?

If I'm understand these men correctly, it's a bit of both. Bell says to build my hero with depth, passion, and a strong worldview. Then, when the conflict comes, the hero will react based on these beliefs. Out of that emerges theme. Theme will shine through the main character's dialogue and inner monologues. Theme will be reflected in the metaphors and symbols I choose (if they're chosen well and truly reflect the hero). Theme will resonate in the last chapter, in the last sentence. Theme will Be There. And it didn't "just happen," because I worked on building those meanings, those messages, into the hero's make-up.

Bell ends the chapter with three exercises. I couldn't actually do the first one, but something in the instructions grabbed me. It goes like this: "Many of us hated 'theme' exercises in literature class." (I totally agree with this statement -- I loathed them. I usually copied off the kid in front of me.) Then came the most important part: "Maybe this is because there's so much debate about themes. Critics often disagree about a book's meaning." What a reassuring thing to hear! If the *critics* can't nail down theme, how can I? I'm not using that as a cop-out. I'm putting extra effort into identifying the theme of my book. But it's good to know I probably won't get it wrong. The critics can disagree all they want about the theme of my book, and that won't bother me a bit.

I've got more to share, so stay tuned.

-Sonja

Implementing Theme

Larry Brooks, in his book  Story Engineering: Mastering the Six Core Competencies of Successful Writing, attempted to teach me about theme. Thankfully, building a theme into my story is a skill that can be taught. Unfortunately, I'm a slow learner when it comes to abstract ideas. In high school lit class, I was always the last one to figure out the theme of the story. Now that I'm writing my own stories, I'd better figure out how to do it. After all, Brooks says, "The more you value and cultivate the themes in your stories, the better those stories will be." I want my stories to be fantastic, so I've got to master this concept of theme.

I'll admit, I'm only six pages into the chapter and I'm feeling a little stupid. Brooks says theme is the meaning of the story. It reflects me. And then he says theme divides into two realms: stories where theme emerges from character, and stories in which the character experience has been crafted to focus on and communicate a specific theme.

He gives two examples. In The Da Vinci Code, Dan Brown's point of view comes out clearly about issues of religion, the church, and the veracity of history. The plot and character arc specifically pointed to this theme, to challenge the reader's belief systems and values.

The Cider House Rules by John Irving speaks about right-to-life issues, like abortion and orphanages. Unlike Dan Brown, John Irving didn't land on one side of the issue. He explored all sides of it, allowing the reader to experience the emotions of both sides and thus decide if his or her opinion has shifted after reading the book. 

Brook says, "Brown was selling us a point of view on an issue, while Irving was exploring an issue."

I clearly see the difference between these two realms. I can't identify which of them MY story fits into, but I understand them. That's a step in the right direction!

-Sonja

Theme Happens

I'm continuing my study on theme in the hopes that I'll actually understand it once I'm done writing several blog posts about it. Larry Brooks started me down this path with his book  Story Engineering: Mastering the Six Core Competencies of Successful Writing. 

Deep in the heart of the chapter about theme, Mr. Brooks says this: "You can't write about life experience without saying something about life's experiences. When a story is strong enough, when a character is deep enough, and when the conceptual landscape is universal and accessible, theme happens."

Huh. After reading that, I figured I'm in hot water. A theme will just happen in my story if it's strong enough, if the character is deep enough, when all this other gunk is universal and accessible? How do I know if I did it right? How do I know if it's deep enough? What does accessible mean?

Thankfully, Mr. Brooks went on: "Sometimes this works, sometimes not. The more you want your story to say something specific about life and the world in which it unfolds, the more you can't rely on this organic emergence of theme."

Whew! Brooks then said it's like flying an airplane. I can understand how the plane gets off the ground, but I wouldn't be able to fly one if someone handed me the controls. I've got to learn how to create/build theme. I need "a working knowledge of theme implementation," says Brooks.

The good news: it can be learned. 

The bad news: I'm not there yet.

-Sonja

Theme: By Larry Brooks

A new book arrived in the mail Saturday, and I couldn't help but dive in. It's Story Engineering: Mastering the Six Core Competencies of Successful Writing by Larry Brooks. I was swimming along fantastically until I got to the third core competency, theme.

I'll admit, abstract ideas are tough for me. I'm a math/music type of person. If it's tangible, touchable, tastable, I can grasp it. But the chapter on theme was wibbly wobbly. My brain went *huh*and then shut down, refusing to try it again.

Since Mr. Brooks says theme is necessary for Successful Writing, I figured I should comprehend this nebulous monstrosity. So I went to my library, grabbed all my craft-of-writing books that had a section on theme, and started reading. Over the next several posts, I'll share what I've discovered in the hopes that in explaining it all to you, my three loyal blog readers, I might actually figure some of it out for myself.

I'll start with the definition offered by Mr. Brooks. "Theme is what our story means. How it relates to reality and life in general... Theme is the relevance of your story to life."

Sounds simple, but I didn't quite get it. My story has meaning? It relates to life in general? It's relevant? I thought it was just a great mystery with plenty of suspense, a little romance, and a lot of Greek culture. How could I NOT know my story meant something? And if it does mean something, WHAT, exactly, does it mean? I had to keep reading.

I came to this statement: "Theme is life itself, as manifested in our stories, as seen through our characters, and as experienced through our plots...Theme is how you touch your readers." So there's something of ME in the story to impart to the reader. Not just my character, my plot, my voice and style. It's got my viewpoint. My values. Me.

Heady stuff. Stay tuned for more exciting revelations into the mystery of Theme.

-Sonja

Stalking Susan Review

I'm heading off for a one-week vacation today, so I need some quality reading material to take along. Somewhere on the net, I found a review by the Chicago Tribune that said, "Readers who enjoy Janet Evanovich will soon be stalking Julie Kramer." That sounded intriguing to me. I like Janet Evanovich, especially her outrageously funny Stephanie Plum series. So I went on-line to my local library, found the Julie Kramer books, and checked them all out.

Stalking Susan is the first book of the series. I jumped in fully expecting to find laugh-out-loud antics and witty dialogue. Um, not so. I guess the Evanovich novels weren't Stephanie Plum stories but rather Alex Barnaby.

I was disappointed that the Kramer novel wasn't funny. But that's where the disappointment ended. Stalking Susan was a great story. It started with Riley Spartz, a TV reporter in a major story slump. Her retired cop friend, Garnett, passed her a tip on a couple of cold cases he was never able to solve. They involved women named Susan who were raped and strangled on November 19th, one in 1991 and the other in 1992.
As a plot devise, I found this scenario engaging. Immediately, I was pulled into the investigation, hoping Riley would be able to find enough information to televise a story about it. Then, if all went well, the local police would re-open the cases and solve them. I won't give away the ending, but nothing went as planned for Riley, and her life was endangered several times (as you'd expect).

I thoroughly enjoyed Stalking Susan and have the next three books packed for my trip. If you like a good mystery, check them out.

-Sonja

Paranormal Steampunk Fun

This week I'm reading the Alexia Tarabotti series by Gail Carriger. They are so much fun! Vampires, werewolves, parasols, teapots, dirigibles... what's not to love?

The books are set in Victorian London (1873), where werewolves and vampires co-exist in harmony with humans. In fact, the Queen employs one of each as advisors. Werewolves serve in the army as fighters. Vampires are tendsetters in fashion and style. Steam engines power such wonders as ascension rooms (elevators), ornithopters (helicopters), and aethographors (similar to a telegraph). Tea is always served on time.

What stands out most are the characters. You have to love Miss Ivy Hisselpenny, with her gift of engaging in mindless chatter and her love of hideous hats. Or Lord Akeldama, the vampire fop with a love of outlandish clothes, a penchant for spying, and the uncanny ability to come up with silly terms of endearment on the fly, like squash blossom and dipped biscuit. Mrs. Loontwill is prone to wearing yellow and fits of hysteria. Lord Maccon is a large, bumbling werewolf who hates wearing a cravat and sings opera, poorly, in the bathtub.

It's the protagonist, Alexia Tarabotti, who really sticks with you. She's soulless, so at her touch, supernatural folks lose their supernatural state. She's the embodiment of practicality. She finds death threats to be trifling inconveniences, and adores treacle tarts. She's a spinster with a father who's both Italian and dead. She's eccentric, pragmatic, and wants to be "useful" in a society where women of high standing are supposed to be married and expert shoppers. It's her desire to be useful and her knack for attracting trouble that lead her on wonderful adventures against mad scientists, awkward curses, pesto-serving Templars, and plots against the queen.

If you love witty dialogue, laugh-out-loud antics, and a rich fantasy world full of supernatural wonders and romance, then you'll love this series. A word of warning, the first book has a romantic element and contains quite a bit of canoodling. If sex scenes annoy you, skip the last chapter of the first book. The remaining romantic scenes are amusing and mostly tasteful.

-Sonja

To Outline or Not To Outline

From what I've read, there are two kinds of writers: those who outline (outliners) and those who don't (seat-of-the-panters). I'm an outliner. I've tried writing without one, but my work tends to drift off in strange directions, then I've got to delete a ton of it, get back on track, and waste lots of writing hours going nowhere. So I've learned my lesson. I think through the story, get the basic direction written down, then dive in.

I have a feeling I've gone off the deep end this time. My newest work-in-progress is so thoroughly outlined, it's almost kind of boring when I sit down to write it out dramatically. There are no surprises--at least, there aren't at this point, and I'm 12,000 words into it. Yeah, it comes out really fast, but there's no mystery here. I don't find myself surprised by a turn of events, or thrilled when a character does something unpredictable and fun. I know I'm in charge of all these things, so there really shouldn't be any mystery or surprise or thrill... and yet, I remember, in other works, when something unexpected showed up and knocked the socks--er, flippers--off my feet. I kind of miss those moments.
How about you, fellow writers? Have you ever over-outlined and sucked all the joy out of the writing? If so, how'd you get the magic back without sacrificing the entire work?

-Sonja