At the time of writing this newsletter, I had just spent an evening hanging out with a writing friend who was attending a big conference for the first time. Our conversation inspired me because it occurred to me that there might be other word nerds out there attending events this summer who may not know how to navigate them.

Fear not! Even if you’re a total introvert (like me!), writing conferences can be incredibly valuable and—dare I say it?—even fun. You just have to have a plan for the before, during, and after.

Before the Conference

You did it! You signed up for a writing conference, got your travel plans figured out and booked your hotel room. Give yourself a huge pat on the back and take a sigh of relief because the biggest hurdles are behind you. That said, if you want to get the most out of your writing conference experience, it’s good to have a game-plan going in. Here are a few things you can do to prepare:

Look Over the Schedule

Most conferences will give you a schedule when you arrive, but they also often post their schedules online. This way, you can see what sessions are being offered in advance and start mapping things out before you get there.

Look at the sessions being offered. A lot of conferences will have more than one track, which means you’ll have to choose between a few different options for each time block. I recommend having both a first and second choice. This way, if you get to one session and it’s not your jam or it’s over-packed and you can’t find a seat, you can easily go to the other session. I’m obsessed with office supplies, so if I were doing this, I’d print out a copy of the schedule and use colorful highlighters to mark up my first and second choice sessions.

Research Some Speakers

Some of the speakers might be familiar names. Others might be completely new to you. Take a little time in advance to read the bios of the speakers for the sessions you’ve selected so you can get to know them a bit. Most conferences post speaker bios online. This research may also help you decide between various options if you’re torn between multiple sessions.

If speakers have an online presence, you can follow the breadcrumbs to learn more about them, beyond what’s on the conference site. If they’re on social media, you can follow them there. If they have a newsletter, it might be worth checking it out. Take a little time to familiarize yourself with the speakers, so you can get a better sense for how they teach.

Connect on Social Media

Once upon a time, Twitter was the go-to place where most pre-conference networking would happen. Conferences would have a hashtag and you could follow that hashtag and see updates about the event and connect with fellow attendees. Alas, Twitter (I refuse to call it X) has gone sideways and much of the publishing world has exited to other platforms like Threads, BlueSky, or even Facebook or Instagram.

Some conferences (I’ve mostly seen this with online events) may have Facebook groups associated with them. In those cases, the conference will usually advertise the group in its pre-conference communications. If you’re on Facebook and the conference has a group, it can be worth joining. Sometimes speakers will pop in, and it’s also a great way to meet some fellow attendees.

During the Conference

The day has come! You’ve boarded your plane, train, or automobile and you’re on your way to the event. Now the fun really starts!

What to Bring

You’ll want a notebook and pens so you can take notes (trust me on this!). Some people bring computers, but not all conference rooms have tables (sometimes it’s just rows of chairs) in which case a laptop could be cumbersome. Plus you may not easily find a power outlet if you need to recharge your computer. Tablets can be a great, portable option, especially if your tablet has a keyboard case so it can double as a laptop. Personally, I’m a paper and pen sort of gal, so I just pack a notebook and my pen case and I’m ready to go.

Also not a bad idea to bring some cough drops (in case you get an annoying tickle in your throat), some portable snacks (like protein bars or trail mix), and a small bottle of water. Some conferences may offer coffee and snacks throughout the day but that’s not always the case, so be prepared. Also keep in mind that while some conferences have time set aside for a lunch break, others might have sessions back-to-back all day, in which case you may have to miss a session in order to grab lunch.

Go to Sessions

Remember that beautiful schedule you mapped out before the conference? Now’s the time to use it. Go to the sessions you selected. Take notes and have fun! Chat with the people sitting near you and see if you can make a friend or two. If you’re sitting in on a session and it’s truly a dud, tiptoe out discreetly and go to the back-up session you selected (this is why you want to choose two sessions for each time block.)

Breakout speaker sessions are pretty straightforward to navigate. Speakers usually have slides or a handout so all you have to do is take notes. Panels are a little trickier because they can be somewhat unpredictable. You never know which direction the conversation will go. This is why I always recommend to writers attending panels: search for 3 takeaways and 1 action step. If you’re listening to the conversation, looking for key takeaways and an action step, you’re more likely to get value from that session because you’ll leave it with concrete information. (By the way, you can use this rule of thumb with individual speaker sessions as well.)

During the Q&A (either of a breakout or a panel), if you have a question, ask it! Just make sure you frame it in a way that’s productive for all the other attendees in the room. (I.e., don’t make it too specific to your own book.) If you have a more specific question, see if you can chat with the speaker(s) after the session. Some breakout speakers and panelists will hang around for a few minutes after their talk is over and that’s a good time to ask a more specific question.

Build In Some Breaks

I get it. It’s super-tempting to try to squeeze every last drop of value from an event. After all, you invested a lot of time, money, and energy to go in the first place. But make sure you pace yourself. If you burn yourself out on the first day, you could end up missing out on something later. This is why it’s so important to build in time for breaks.

Play hookey now and then, and just skip a session or two. Things to do with those breaks include: taking a nap, hanging out in the bookstore, browsing the sponsor booths, relaxing near the coffee or water station and chatting with fellow attendees. Open yourself up to serendipitous meetings with other folks at the conference. This can be a great opportunity to network and make some new friends.

Pitch Your Book or Meet an Agent

Some conferences offer pitch sessions or agent consults where you can either pitch your book or have a short sit-down with an agent. Every conference does things a little bit differently, but regardless of the event, it’s always a good idea to arrive with a strong elevator pitch for your project, in case somebody asks you what your book is about. Plus, if you’re attending a pitch session or meeting with an agent, you’ll need to have a pitch anyway. Practice your pitch at every opportunity you have so that when the chance to share it comes up, it’s ready to go.

After the Conference

You had a blast, but now the event is over. (Cue sad face emoji.) The after-conference piece is perhaps the place where most writers drop the ball. This means, if you get awesome at follow-up, you’ll immediately rise above the crowd.

Follow-Up with Your Contacts

If agents asked you for materials, send those materials as soon as possible. That said, do not send materials unless you have the full book ready in the wings. An agent might say “I loved your pages… send me the full” and it will be really embarrassing if you haven’t finished writing the whole book yet. So hold off on sending partial materials until you’ve got the manuscript ready, but get it ready as fast as possible.

If you made friends and met fellow attendees at the conference, the week or so after the event is a great time to send a quick note to say “hi” and keep that connection going. Some of these fellow-attendees could become great critique partners or accountability buddies, so don’t let those connections go cold.

Take Time to Debrief

Make yourself a nice cup of coffee or tea and give yourself a good hour or so after the conference to debrief. (The plane or train ride home is a great time to do this.) Go back through your notes and highlight any insights or key points. Remember those 3 takeaways and 1 action step you hunted for during the panels? Go over those and think about how you’ll implement what you discovered. The key is to turn all that great learning you did at the conference into practical tools and techniques you can put into practice. Knowledge is great, but it won’t help you make progress unless you take action.

There you have it, an in-depth guide on how to navigate the before, during, and after of a writing conference. If you do go to a conference or event this summer (or later this year) I hope it’s a blast and that this guide is helpful!

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: How to Get the Most Out of a Writing Conference appeared first on DIY MFA.

The IDEA Method

This signature DIY MFA technique is based on the premise that creativity is not some mystical process. It’s not about magic bullet ideas that you simply pull out of a hat. Rather, creativity is like a muscle that you must exercise and strengthen through repeated practice.

The IDEA Method also posits that idea generation is only a tiny part of the creative process. It’s not enough to have a great idea, you have to know how to put it into action. Idea generation is fruitless without implementation.

There are four stages in the IDEA Method: Inspiration, Development, Evaluation, and Action. As you can see, these four stages spell out the word I-D-E-A. (You know we love our acronyms at DIY MFA!)

Inspiration

This stage is what most people imagine when they think of the creative process. This is the stage where you come up with fresh new ideas. The other stages are where you build out those ideas and put them into action, but the inspiration stage is where idea generation happens.

The key to inspiration, in my opinion, is play. Have you ever watched and paid attention to kids playing? They don’t ever run out of ideas. It’s like an endless font of creativity and they are constantly coming up with new possibilities. They start with those magical words “let’s pretend” and suddenly they’re reenacting all sorts of adventures and playing endless games. The key for us as adults to tap into an never-ending source of ideas is to approach creativity through play. One of my favorite ways to get inspired through play is with the Oracle. I wrote a whole article about this creativity tool here.

Development

This stage is where the rubber meets the road. If inspiration is that initial jolt of creativity, development is where we dig deep and bring that concept to life. There are three components of this stage: imitation, improvisation, and incubation (or what I call the 3i’s of idea development).

Imitation is perhaps the most overlooked part of the development stage, but often the most valuable. This is the reality that we learn and create best when we acknowledge that our ideas exist in context rather than in a vacuum. Most of what we create is going to be a partial imitation of some other work that has come before. In fact, some of the most prominent artists and creatives use imitation heavily in their work.

Consider the impressionist Edgar Degas. Best known for his drawings, paintings, and statues of ballerines, what you might not know is that he was also in the habit of copying his own drawings over and over with slight variations. I discovered this when I went to a special exhibit of his work at the National Gallery in London, where I saw rows and rows of his ballerina sketches, virtually identical to each other, almost as if he had traced and retraced his own work.

Similarly, Vincent Van Gogh painted “First Steps, After Millet” imitating the pastel drawing by Jean-François Millet almost identically, only in a different medium (oil-on-canvas) and with his signature bright colors and swirling brush strokes. Artists of all types are constantly borrowing from each other and writing is no different. Imitation can happen both with an artist imitating someone else’s work or their own.

The key with imitation is that sooner or later, the artist moves from copying other work to improvising and making it their own. And if we’ve tried imitation and improvisation and we’re still struggling for ideas, the best thing is to pause and do something else. This is where incubation comes into play.

Evaluation

Once an idea is sufficiently developed, it’s good to take a step back and evaluate it objectively. This is not about letting the inner critic derail your process. Instead, the point is to take your writing project to a point where you have a critical mass, enough of it that you can determine whether it’s working. Bring your inner critic into the process too soon and you will derail your creativity, but you also don’t want to get so far along with your project that then if you realize it’s not working, you have to go back to the drawing board.

For every writer, the evaluation process will be a little bit different. Some writers have critique partners who provide this type of feedback throughout the writing process. Other writers might get a third or half of the way through their project, then pause and give it an objective look. The goal here is for us to avoid investing hundreds of hours in a project before we realize we’ve written ourselves into a corner.

Action

Finally, after we’ve figured out if the project is working, we simply need a plan for putting those words on the page and getting to “The End.” Here is where I like to do a little writing math and reverse-engineer from the end goal to where I am now.

Suppose you’re writing a novel and you’ve written about 20,000 words already. For a typical novel, the typical word count for most genres and categories is 80,000. This means you have 60,000 words to go before the end. Suppose you want to finish this book in 4 months, that means you need to produce 15,000 per month which amounts to about 3,750 words per week. If you write five days per week, you just have to produce 750 words per writing session to reach your goal.

For some writers, 750 words per session might be easy, but for others it might be a stretch. If you’re in the latter camp, you might need to work your way up to that 750-word pace. This is where I recommend the ten percent rule. Choose a word count number that’s super-easy, so easy you could probably knock out that word count in your sleep. Suppose that easy number is 500 words. Take that number and add ten percent (so 550 words).

That extra ten percent might not seem like much, but it’s enough to make you sit up a little straighter and lean into your work a little bit more. It’s not so high as to set you up for failure, but just enough challenge to keep you engaged. Eventually that baseline-plus-ten-percent number will become easy. At that point, you simply add another ten percent (now 605 words). Keep adding ten percent as each new baseline feels easy until you reach the goal of 750-words per session.

The point of this exercise is to avoid setting pie-in-the-sky goals to motivate ourselves to work harder. The truth is, though, when we set those high goals, we’re just setting ourselves up for possible failure. By working our way up from an easy baseline to a more reasonable goal, we set ourselves up for success.

Conclusion

The creative process is so much more than just that initial bolt of inspiration. There are three other stages that are equally—if not more—important. There is so much more to the IDEA method than the concepts shared here today. If you’re interested in learning more, check out our on-demand webinar Don’t Wait for the Muse which is part of the HUB lessons archive. You can learn more about the HUB here.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: The IDEA Method: What to Do When You’re Out of Ideas appeared first on DIY MFA.

At the same time, I think putting our fingers in our ears and saying “La-la-la-la-la I’m not listening” with respect to AI is about as practical as being anti-internet in the 1990s. Unless you plan to live in a cabin in the woods next to Walden Pond and isolate yourself from all society, you have to accept living in a world where generative AI is part of our reality.

How do we use AI ethically?

I’m neither a lawyer nor a philosopher, so I’m not about to try parsing out the ethical nuances of AI use. Instead, I’ll point you to a source I trust—The Author’s Guild. This organization has been instrumental in helping writers navigate the process of getting fair compensation for their unlicensed work being used to train LLMs. It has an excellent online guide on the ethical use of AI.

After reading this guide, I feel cautiously optimistic that big corporations may eventually do the right thing and start licensing the work they use to train their models. And if they don’t, at the very least, artists and organizations like the Author’s Guild will take to the courts and maybe force these companies to do it.

Speaking of cases, many people have asked me how I feel about the Anthropic settlement, especially since my book is one of the thousands listed in that database. My response is always the same: It’s not great, but it’s better than nothing. I think authors and artists should be compensated far more than what the settlement has determined. (Let’s be real, $1.5 billion divided among however many thousands of books is not going to yield very much for each writer, nor do I think it’s punitive enough to prevent this kind of nonsense from happening again.)

Still that settlement sets a legal precedent, which is important because it makes it less of an uphill climb for other, similar cases to be decided in the artists’ favor. In my opinion, the legal precedent is in many ways more important than the pecuniary outcome.

I’m also gravely concerned about what AI is doing to people’s brains and to education as a whole. As the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, I’m a firm believer in self-motivation, especially when it comes to learning. But AI is now baked into so many online tools (including search engines) that it’s virtually impossible to do even the most basic research or creative work without coming across some AI generated result.

I suppose this would be tolerable if AI’s accuracy were not so hit or miss, but the way things are right now, it’s garbage in, garbage out. There’s no quality assurance department—aside from our own brains—to help us determine the accuracy of something generated by AI. This means if we’re not careful, we could be using AI generated content and inaccurate information without even realizing it.

What can we do about this?

First and foremost, get informed. AI isn’t going anywhere. Unless we want to live in the dark ages while everyone else is zipping into the future, we need to understand what AI is about and be aware of any controversy that surrounds it. Arm yourself with the right resources. I already mentioned the Author’s Guild, but I also highly recommend Jane Friedman’s paid newsletter The Bottom Line, where she reports on all things publishing-related, including generative AI (when relevant). This is one of those go-to publishing resources I recommend to any author who’s serious about getting published and understanding this industry.

Second, be cautious about what material you feed into AI tools. Make sure you understand all the terms of service. Read the fine print. I know we’ve been conditioned to click “accept all terms” when signing up for a new app or piece of technology. Do not do this with AI. Make sure you understand exactly how that AI tool uses and stores your data. I especially caution you against entering your entire manuscript into an AI chatbot or software. Unless you are absolutely certain that you retain all ownership and that it will not be used to train the model, do not feed it into the AI.

You also need to be aware of who owns the output. It does you no good to input your manuscript into an AI tool if you don’t own whatever material it spits out. Do your due diligence. If you choose to use AI, make sure you understand exactly what happens to both the input and the output.

Third, recognize that AI is deeply flawed and often inaccurate. If you’re going to use it, take the resulting output with a grain of salt and always supplement it with your own research and brainpower. Do not take AI at its word. Make sure to verify all results.

AI’s Impact on Education

Where things have gotten fascinating for me is the impact AI has had on education. My kids are in 6th and 8th grades, and it’s interesting to see how their schools handle the use of technology and are responding to generative AI.

My daughter (the 6th-grader) goes to a school where they’ve gone back to paper-and-pencil exams (remember the good ol’ days of blue books?) because they don’t want the students using AI during tests. My understanding is that they are opting for forms of evaluation where the students do most of the work in class, like presentations and in-class projects. This is all in an effort to prevent the use of AI in cheating.

My son (the 8th-grader) goes to a school that has taken things even a step further. In addition to monitoring the students’ use of technology, they have baked AI awareness into their curriculum. They have an entire subject called Media Literacy, where they focus on identifying generative AI outputs and also learn how to navigate the landscape of social media and the internet responsibly.

If generative AI challenges us to pause and take a step back to more basic forms of learning and testing, that might not be such a bad thing. In fact, I’m not opposed to teachers and administrators limiting the use of screens in the classroom. It’s hard enough to limit screen time at home when all the homework requires logging into a school portal. If more of those screen-related boundaries can be set in the classroom, so much the better. If avoiding AI forces classrooms to go “back to the basics” and my kids end up writing more with pencil in hand, I am all for it.

To AI or Not to AI… Where Do You Stand?

Now I’m curious. Where do you stand on generative AI? Are you opposed to its use for writing but feel it’s okay for things like checking errors? Do you find it useful for brainstorming or marketing purposes? Are you completely against it in all forms (aside from maybe spellcheck)?

I’d like to get a bit of a poll going and if we get some interesting results, I may share it in a subsequent newsletter. (Don’t worry, we’ll only share the aggregate, not individual, results.) Click the link below that best represents your take on AI.

I’m an AI user.

I use AI regularly in many contexts. It saves me tons of time doing tasks I dislike, which allows more time for writing.

I’m AI-cautious.

It may turn out to be useful, but before I can make up my mind about AI, I need more information. I want to wait and see how things develop.

I’m AI-avoidant.

I dislike what AI is doing to our world and our culture. I refuse to use it in any form. If it’s anything more than spellcheck, I avoid it.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: How Do You Feel About AI? appeared first on DIY MFA.

Spoiler Alert! If you have not read A Christmas Carol, hop to it! It’s a novella, so it’s super-short, plus, you can get a free ebook copy via Project Gutenberg, or read it via your browser. Personally, I recommend the browser version because then you can see the original full-color illustrations by John Leech, which are lovely. Even if you decide to read it via a device, check out those illustrations because they are lovely.

While there have been any number of versions of this story as films, I recommend reading the original. This is because no film version quite captures the nuance and depth of the original text. This is why I have based this entire analysis on the text. Let’s dive into our analysis of A Christmas Carol.

ACT 1: In Act 1, we meet our protagonist, Ebenezer Scrooge. He is a miserly, stingy man, who doesn’t even let his clerk have coal to make a fire. He has a grumpy disposition and he doesn’t care for other people. He is a This excerpt best captures Scrooge’s character:

External heat and cold had little influence on Scrooge. No warmth could warm, no wintry weather chill him. No wind that blew was bitterer than he, no falling snow was more intent upon its purpose, no pelting rain less open to entreaty. Foul weather didn’t know where to have him. The heaviest rain, and snow, and hail, and sleet, could boast of the advantage over him in only one respect. They often “came down” handsomely, and Scrooge never did.

As Act 1 develops, we learn that Scrooge has a particular distaste for Christmas. When people (like his cheerful nephew) mention Christmas, his response is “Bah! Humbug!” Throughout Act 1 we also see examples of Scrooge’s miserly attitude. He refuses to give money to help the poor, absolutely will not dine for Christmas at his nephew’s house, and when his clerk asks for Christmas day off, he balks and says: “”A poor excuse for picking a man’s pocket every twenty-fifth of December!” 

His stinginess is not just reserved for others, but for himself as well. He eats “his melancholy dinner in his usual melancholy tavern” all alone, and even his home is not truly his, but belonged to his deceased business partner, Jacob Marley. After changing for bed, he sits down in front of the fire to eat his gruel. Clearly, while this man has much money, there is nothing about him tht is extravagant.

The five promises also get answered within the first stave (or chapter).

Character: Ebenezer Scrooge is our protagonist and we follow him throughout the story.

Voice: The novella is told entirely through Scrooge’s limited third person point of view so we have access to his thoughts, but no one else’s. Also, keep in mind that the third person narrator occasionally interjects and speaks directly to the reader. This gives us a sense of the story being told to us by someone who has seen the events unfold.

World: The story takes place at the time in which it was published, the mid-9th century. The setting is London.

Problem: Scrooge detests Christmas almost as much as he dislikes being in the company of others or spending money. Yet everyone around him is in the Christmas spirit. His nephew invites him to dine for Christmas. Two gentlemen call upon him at his office, asking for money for the poor. And even his own clerk has the audacity to ask for Christmas day off. Scrooge has jut about had it with all this Christmas nonsense. Bah! Humbug!

Event: The story begins with his partner, Jacob Marley, dead. Seven years later, on Christmas Eve, as Scrooge goes home and opens his front door, the knocker transforms to look like Jacob Marley’s ghostly face.

PIVOT POINT 1:  Scrooge locks the door and retires to his room. Suddenly the ghost of Jacob Marley walks in through the double-locked door, dragging chains and boxes of riches. When Scrooge asks about the chains, Marley says: “I wear the chain I forged in life… I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it.”

Then he continues to tell Scrooge that his own chains will be even heavier and longer in the afterlife. He says: “the weight and length of the strong coil you bear yourself? It was full as heavy and as long as this, seven Christmas Eves ago. You have laboured on it, since.” Scrooge is afraid.

The ghost of Marley tells him that there is a chance for him yet. He will be haunted by three Spirits over the course of three nights. As he says to Scrooge: “”Without their visits… you cannot hope to shun the path I tread.” Scrooge immediately resists, first saying he would rather not, then trying to bargain with the ghost that maybe the Spirits could visit him all at once. While Scrooge does not openly acquiesce, at the end of the stave, when he tries to say “Humbug!” he stops himself.

As we’ve discussed in the past, every pivot point has two components: an external event and an internal choice. In this case, the external event is the appearance of Jacob Marley’s ghost. The internal choice, on the other hand, is Scrooge complying with the visit of the three Spirits.

ACT 2:  In Act 2, we have two of the three Spirit visits: Ghost of Christmas Past, and the Ghost of Christmas Present. (The Ghost of Christmas Future arrives in Act 3) All three of these Spirits take Scrooge around to different locations, where he can see both events of Christmas in the past, present, and future. As Scrooge makes these visits, his outlook begins to change.

Ghost of Christmas Past: This Spirit is small like a child, with a candle flame coming up out of its head and a cap shaped like a candle extinguisher.

The journey begins at the school where he had been a young boy. While all the other boys cheerfully went home for the holidays, Scrooge was left stranded at the school. While he sees himself alone and neglected, he feels pity for his past self and in feeling that pity he begins to empathize with others (in particular a boy who came caroling to his office the day before).

After visiting his former self at school, the Spirit takes him a little into the future, when Scrooge was a young apprentice for Mr. Fezziwig. On Christmas eve, Fezziwig and his wife had all their employees clear away the desks and furniture in the warehouse where they worked and they threw a dance to celebrate the holiday. Seeing the sort of employer that Fezziwig was and how kindly he treated his employees, Scrooge says to the Spirit:

He has the power to render us happy or unhappy; to make our service light or burdensome; a pleasure or a toil. Say that his power lies in words and looks; in things so slight and insignificant that it is impossible to add and count ’em up: what then? The happiness he gives, is quite as great as if it cost a fortune.

Scrooge begins to realize how unkind he has been to his clerk and when the Spirit asks if something is the matter, he says: “​​I should like to be able to say a word or two to my clerk just now. That’s all.”

The third visit Scrooge makes in the past is where he sees himself talking to a young woman. As the scene unfolds, it becomes clear that they have been engaged, but she is now releasing Scrooge of the commitment because she has been replaced with an idol of gold (i.e., money.)

Scrooge’s preoccupation with wealth and greed has supplanted the love he once felt for this young woman, and even if he were to force himself to stand by the engagement, she insists that he would eventually regret it. At this, Scrooge begs the Spirit to stop and show him no more, but the Spirit insists on one more vision. This time the Spirit shows a woman and her children waiting for her husband to get home. The family is loving and kind, a clear illustration of everything that Scrooge could have had but chose to give up.

At this point, Scrooge has had it with the Spirit. He takes its extinguisher cap and plops it on its head, putting out the candle flame and reducing the Spirit to nothing. While Scrooge does have a few moments throughout this journey to the past where he begins to show a change of heart, this final action reveals that he is not yet ready to make a change.

Ghost of Christmas Present: This Spirit is a giant and is dressed in a long robe with a holly wreath on its head. It holds a torch shaped cornucopia.

The first stop on their journey is the house of Bob Cratchit, Scrooge’s clerk. Interestingly, Bob is not mentioned by name until this point in the story. It is as if, until we see him in his home environment, that Bob’s very identity is defined by being Scrooge’s employee. It is only here that we see Bob as a fully-developed character, one with a loving family and a young, disabled son, Tiny Tim.

In this scene at the Cratchit house, Scrooge sees a family that has virtually nothing, but even so are grateful for what they do have. Bob even goes so far as to toast to Scrooge and calls him the “Founder of the Feast.” While his wife is not as enthusiastic about drinking to Scrooge’s health, she eventually does, as do the children. This scene shows Scrooge that true wealth comes from kindness and love, rather than money.

MIDPOINT: During the visit to the Cratchit home, Scrooge asks the Spirit what will become of Tiny Tim. The Spirit answers: “I see a vacant seat… in the poor chimney-corner, and a crutch without an owner, carefully preserved.” This is a false failure because it looks like the worst possible outcome will happen, but it turns out not to be the case. In fact, without Scrooge believing that Tiny Tim would die, he will never reach his change of heart.

When the Spirit tells him what is to come, Scrooge begs the Spirit to let Tiny Tim live and the Spirit quotes his own words back at him: “If he be like to die, he had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.” These are the self-same words Scrooge said earlier when the gentlemen visited his office, asking him to give money to help the poor. In this moment, Scrooge starts to realize that his outlook is wrong. “Scrooge hung his head to hear his own words quoted by the Spirit, and was overcome with penitence and grief.” This is the moment of self-reflection.

ACT 2 (cont’d): The Spirit takes Scrooge to various places where they see people of meager means celebrating the holiday. Eventually, they end up at the house of Scrooge’s nephew. Here the nephew, his wife, and their friends have a jolly celebration filled with food and games. Scrooge gets so wrapped up watching the games that he does not want to leave.

Eventually, Scrooge notices that the Spirit has grown quite old. He asks the Spirit if its life is very short and the Spirit replies that its life ends at midnight that same night.

PIVOT POINT 2: Before the spirit goes, Scrooge sees a claw-like hand emerge from beneath its robes and the Spirit unfolds its robe to reveal two children. The Spirit tells Scrooge:

This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased.

Scrooge asks what can be done and again he hears his own words quoted back to him: “Are there no prisons?… Are there no workhouses?” This is the second pivot point. The external event is the appearance of Ignorance and Want, and the internal choice is Scrooge wanting there to be something that can be done..

Note that many modern adaptations (films, etc.) of A Christmas Carol omit this portion of the story, perhaps because it is the section that feels most on-the-nose and didactic. It is also, in some ways, the most visually disturbing part of the story and stands in direct contrast to the jolly, Christmas imagery in other parts of the novella. Interestingly enough, when adaptations omit this section, they are losing a crucial part of the story arc: the second pivot point.

ACT 3: As Scrooge looks around for the Ghost of Christmas Present, he sees that the Spirit has disappeared and in its place has appeared a silent, looming figure.

Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come: As with the other figures, this one takes Scrooge to various places where he sees shadows of the future. The first stop is a rundown shop where a few people are gathered. They are bringing in things to sell, items belonging to someone who has died. While we do not know the identity of the deceased (though, we can guess!), the purpose of this scene is to show how little these people seem to care about this man. They have even stolen his bedcurtains to sell!

At one point, Scrooge says to the Spirit: “Spirit!… I see, I see. The case of this unhappy man might be my own. My life tends that way, now. Merciful Heaven, what is this!” He has begun to realize that he needs to change his ways, though he has not yet made a full transformation. The scene changes and Scrooge and the Spirit are in a room where a dead man lies covered on a bed. This is the man whose belongings were being sold in the shop and he now lies alone in a room without friends or family to mourn him.

After these, the Spirit takes Scrooge to a home where a woman sits waiting anxiously for her husband by the fire. When he arrives, she asks him what the news is and he replies that the man to whom they owe a sizable sum is dead. (I wonder who that man might be…) While they do not necessarily celebrate the man’s death, they do go to sleep with peace of mind, knowing that their debt will likely be transferred to a more humane creditor.

Finally, the Spirit takes Scrooge back to the Cratchit home, where Tiny Tim has died and the family is in mourning. Unlike the mysterious deceased from the previous scenes who died with out anyone feeling sorry, this family is clearly grieving for its youngest member, in particular Bob Cratchit. This scene shows the immense impact that Tiny Time has made on his family and how much they love him and miss him. It is a stark contrast to the nameless deceased man from the earlier scene in the shop, where all people care about is how to dispose of his belongings.

CLIMAX: The Ghost of Christmas Yet to come takes Scrooge to one final location: a cemetery. The Spirit walks among the graves and points to one in particular. Scrooge approaches the gravestone and sees his own name carved into it. He is the deceased man whose belongings the people in the shop were selling. He is the man lying covered on the bed. He is the creditor whose death the young couple considers with relief. Scrooge finally understands what the Spirits have been trying to show him. He says:

“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone!”

Ending Type: This is a “change of heart” ending. Scrooge starts out the story wanting to have nothing to do with Christmas. He despises other people and wants only to be left alone with his money. lBy the end of the story, he does not get what he wants, but he also no longer wants it. In the climax, he chooses to embrace Christmas and also to treat others with kindness and generosity.

DENOUEMENT: Scrooge finds himself in his room and runs to the window. He calls down to a boy in the street to ask what day it is and learns that it’s Christmas Day. The Spirits have done everything in one night and he has not missed Christmas. He asks the boy to run to the local poulterer and buy the biggest turkey, which he instructs should be sent to the Cratchit house.

Next, he dresses and heads out to his nephew’s home. On his way, he runs into the two gentlemen who had asked him to give money for the poor one day prior. He makes an apology and pledges a large sum of money for their cause. Finally, he arrives at his nephew’s house for Christmas dinner, where he enjoys all the games and joyfulness he had seen on his visit with the Spirit.

Finally, the next day, when Bob Cratchit arrives at work a few minutes late, he summons him to his room and announces that he will give him a raise. Then he tells Bob to get more coal for the fire. The story ends with the narrator telling us:

“…it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God bless Us, Every One!”

I hope this holiday season brings you much joy and happiness, and that the new year gives you renewed energy and excitement for your writing. Remember: the world needs your stories, and there are readers out there waiting with bated breath for a book just like yours. 

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: Three-Act Analysis of A Christmas Carol appeared first on DIY MFA.

I first saw this movie at a very pivotal moment in my life. I was in ninth grade and a total nerd who preferred reading to socializing. When I watched Beauty and the Beast, I felt seen. It was empowering to see a heroine who was more concerned with cerebral pursuits than pretty dresses or charming princes. This is probably why this film made such an impression on me—because I could see myself reflected in the main character.

Spoiler Alert! If you have not yet watched Disney’s Beauty and the Beast… What have you been doing with yourself? Seriously, this is an amazing film (the first ever animated film to be nominated for Best Picture in the Academy Awards) and you need to watch it. It’s part of what many call the “Disney Renaissance,” a period of time when Disney went back to making more animated films based on well-known stories.

Personally, I think Beauty and the Beast is the best film Disney has ever created and quite possibly one of the best films across the board. So, if you haven’t watched Beauty and the Beast yet, get thee to a streaming service! Trust me: it will be ninety minutes well-spent. (Also, if you’re like me and you cry during movies, bring tissues!)

Okay, let’s dive into our analysis of Beauty and the Beast.

PROLOGUE: The movie opens with a narrated sequence where stained glass windows depict the story of the young prince before he became the Beast. The music is haunting and shimmery (reminiscent of the Aquarium movement in Camille Saint-Saens’ Carnival of the Animals) and the stained glass images are striking and like nothing else in the entire movie.

In this sequence we learn how the young prince is spoiled and unkind. When an old woman comes knocking at his door seeking refuge from the cold, he turns her away only to discover that she is, in fact, an enchantress. This enchantress curses the prince (and everyone who lives in the castle), turning him into the Beast. In order to break that spell, he must fall in love, and the other person must also love him in return.

Like a true prologue, this one gives us backstory and sets the scene for what comes later, but it feels separate from the main action of the story. The movie could begin right in Act 1 and would not lose any meaning, though it would miss out on some of the best music and artwork in the entire movie.

ACT 1: We shift gears to a small provincial town where our protagonist, Belle, lives with her father, Maurice. She longs for adventure and spends most of her time either with her nose in a book or dreaming of faraway places. Maurice is an inventor and many of the townsfolk do not think kindly of his somewhat whacky ideas and inventions.

At the beginning of the film we also meet Gaston (who later turns out to be the primary villain). He is arrogant, boorish, but also handsome, and he wants to marry Belle because she is the most beautiful woman in the town.

The opening scene features the ensemble song “Belle” where we meet various villagers as well as Belle and Gaston. It sets the tone for the entire rest of the film.

Character: Because this is a romance, we have two protagonists: Belle and Beast. Most of the key landmark moments in the story involve both characters.

Voice: As with most films, there isn’t so much a voice here as there is a mood. In this case, the mood is whimsical and magical, though it also has moments where things get a little bit dark and spooky.

World: There are two vastly different worlds in this story: Beast’s castle and the provincial town. These two locations exist in stark contrast to each other.

Problem: Gaston wants to marry Belle, but she can’t stand him. She rejects him outright, but unfortunately, he refuses to take “no” for an answer.

Event: Maurice goes to the fair to sell his latest invention. On the way there he gets lost and then becomes stranded in the woods. After being chased by wolves, he comes to Beast’s castle and eventually becomes Beast’s prisoner.

PIVOT POINT 1:  When the horse and cart return without her father, Belle sets off at once to find him. She finds clues that point her toward Beast’s castle and eventually she locates Maurice locked away in the tower. Beast startles her and tells her to get out. Instead, Belle volunteers to take her father’s place as prisoner.

Struck by her sacrifice, Beast offers Belle a guest room instead of the tower. The external event at this pivot point is Belle finding her father locked in the tower. The internal choice is twofold: (1) Belle takes her father’s place as Beast’s prisoner, and (2) Beast is moved by her choice and begins to drop his beastly facade.

The pivot point ends with Beast inviting Belle to dinner. Unfortunately, it’s not a gracious invitation. He says: “You will join me for dinner. That’s not a request!” Belle in turn throws herself on the bed in her room and cries as a storm swirls outside her window.

ACT 2:  From here we move into Act 2. It kicks off when we find Gaston sulking in the local tavern. This is typical of Act 2, where often supporting characters become more central to the story.

Gaston’s sidekick, LeFou, tries to cheer him up by singing “Gaston.” At the end of the song, Maurice arrives at the tavern, raving about a horrible beast that has captured Belle. This gives Gaston an idea. He decides to pay off the head of the local asylum to commit Maurice, only releasing him if Belle agrees to marriage.

After that sequence of scenes, we move back to Beast’s palace and spend some time with the castle staff, a group of enchanted people-turned-to-objects. There’s Lumière the candlestick, Cogsworth the clock, Mrs. Potts the teapot and her son Chip, along with various other characters who play smaller roles. The West Wing of the castle is forbidden and we discover that this is where Beast keeps the enchanted rose that serves as a sort of timer for how long he has to break the spell before it becomes permanent.

After fighting with Beast and refusing to go down to dinner, Belle sneaks out of her room and makes her way to the kitchen. There she finds the castle staff, who are lamenting the waste of a good dinner. Lumière, with the help of the others, puts on a dinner show for Belle (“Be Our Guest”).

After the dinner show, Cogsworth and Lumière give Belle a tour of the castle. She wanders into the West Wing and Beast startles her. When he loses his temper and roars, she decides she’s had enough and gets on her horse to run  away.

MIDPOINT: This midpoint is a False Failure in that it seems like Belle is leaving for good and she and Beast will never end up together. After riding away from the castle, Belle gets chased by wolves, but Beast saves her, injuring himself in the process. When they get back to the castle, they argue about whose fault it was that Beast got hurt. Eventually, Belle says “Thank you… for saving my life” and Beast says “you’re welcome.” This is a moment of self reflection on both their parts because they both realize that they were partially in the wrong.

ACT 2 (Cont’d): This is where the courtship happens. Beast wants to do something special for Belle so he gives her the castle library as a present. They also play in the snow and start to see each other in a new light (“Something There”). Later, they have a romantic dinner and dance into the night (“Beauty and the Beast”). Beast is falling in love.

After dinner and dancing, Beast asks Belle if she’s happy at the castle. She confides that she wishes she could see her father again. He takes her to the West Wing and lets her use his magic mirror that will show her whatever she wants to see. She sees her father lost in the woods, struggling to walk through the deep snow, trying to come rescue her. When Beast realizes how worried Belle is, he lets her go to her father. But, the spell has not yet been broken. While Beast has finally learned to love, he has not yet earned Belle’s love in return.

PIVOT POINT 2: Belle finds her father and brings him home. There, Gaston and the head of the asylum are waiting to take Maurice away. Belle takes out the mirror (which Beast had given to her when she left) and shows everyone the Beast. She tries to convince the townsfolk that Beast is really kind and gentle, but Gaston will have none of it.

ACT 3: Gaston takes away the mirror and riles up the townspeople (“The Mob Song”). He locks up Belle and Maurice in the basement of their house but Chip (the enchanted teacup, who snuck into Belle’s satchel) helps them escape. The angry mob of villagers marches up to the castle and fights the enchanted castle staff. The castle wins!

CRISIS: Beast fights Gaston. They jump and dodge around the gargoyles and turrets of the castle. It seems like Beast has won, when suddenly Gaston pulls out a knife and stabs him.

CLIMAX: Gaston falls from the tower but Beast survives. Belle goes to him as he lies dying. Just as the last rose petal falls, she says “I love you.”

Suddenly the spell begins to break. Fireworks stream down like rain and Beast turns back into a human. At first, Belle isn’t sure he’s really Beast, but she looks into his eyes and recognizes him. Beast and Belle kiss.

Ending Type: This is a happy ending for Belle. She starts out the film wanting to leave the provincial town where she lives. She ends up getting exactly what she had hoped for and more. Not only does she leave that provincial life behind but she finds true love.

For Beast we have a change of heart ending. He starts out the film spoiled and only thinking about himself. By the end of the movie, he has shifted his priorities completely, focusing more on what makes Belle happy than what would make himself happy.

DENOUEMENT: The spell is broken and all the enchanted castle staff turn human again. They all live happily ever after. The film ends with Belle and the Prince dancing in the ballroom while all their friends and family look on.

CONCLUSION: Part of what makes this film so great is that it turns the Disney princess stereotype on its head. Up until this point, all of Disney’s princesses (e.g., Snow White, Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty) are characterized by their goodness. They are sweet, beautiful damsels in distress who endure one injustice after another without complaint. In the end it’s their goodness (and also their beauty) that makes “prince charming” rescue and fall in love with them.

Belle is different. Yes, she’s beautiful, but she has a mind of her own. She knows what she wants and she’s not afraid to stand up for herself or to make her opinions known. She doesn’t let an oaf like Gaston or even a gigantic Beast push her around. In fact, she’s not a damsel in distress, and she rescues Beast, not the other way around.

You could argue that the “heroine with a mind of her own” really first appears with Ariel in The Little Mermaid (which is the film that marks the beginning of the Disney renaissance). Yet I would say that Ariel’s character doesn’t quite reach the same level of depth as Belle’s. While Ariel is headstrong and impulsive, Belle is thoughtful and confident. While Ariel becomes timid when she loses her voice, Belle grows with inner strength when she loses her freedom. Ariel might be the first headstrong heroine in the Disney canon, but that character type really solidifies in Belle, and later continues with characters like Mulan, Tiana, and Moana.

The original Disney princesses—Snow White, Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty—don’t have much agency in their stories. They get pushed around by other characters and very few of the story events happen because of choices that they make. I think this is why Belle really resonates with me as a character. Everything that happens in Beauty and the Beast is a product of her choice. And while she never sacrifices her goodness or integrity to make those choices, she still has agency throughout the story.

This is one of the reasons why the three-act structure is so powerful. This story structure isn’t about making things happen to the main character. Rather, the plot events are a result of choices the protagonist makes. This means the character is the one driving the story. While sometimes plot events must happen where the main character has no control (think: the tornado in The Wizard of Oz), it’s how your protagonist reacts to those events that makes the story interesting.

As you work on your own writing, think about your characters’ agency, particularly that of your protagonist. Are story events simply buffeting your main character to and fro? Or is that character making active choices that shape the plot and move the story forward?

Agency is especially important when you have a character who is very meek or quiet. Just because they don’t have a big, bombastic personality doesn’t mean they can’t have agency. Belle, after all, is an introvert. She’s an avid reader who’s not particularly interested in making lots of friends or socializing with people. Yet, she still has agency and her choices shape the story, not the other way around.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: Three-Act Analysis of Beauty and the Beast appeared first on DIY MFA.

Tip #1: Find your own “best practice.”

Once upon a time, when I was an itty-bitty baby writer, I read the book On Writing by Stephen King. This is a wonderful book, with a ton of great insights. I highly recommend it to any writer because it gives a window into the life and practice of one of our craft’s greatest giants.

But there is one spot in the book where I have to quibble with Mr. King. You see, about two thirds of the way in, he says that to be a writer you have to write 2,000 words per day and read 80-100 books per year. I don’t know about you, but I can’t rack up those words like clockwork. My process is a lot more erratic, with 500 words on one day, 3,000 the next, and so on. (Lawyer hubby lovingly calls this the “feast or famine” approach to writing.)

And when it comes to reading, I’m a ridiculously slow reader. I can read maybe 30-40 books in a year, but 80-100… there’s just no way. Plus, I’ve got two kids (Little Man and Lady Bug), a full-time job with DIY MFA, and—you know—other life stuff. For me, this advice was completely unreasonable.

But I didn’t know that at the time.

You see, when I first read that part of the book, I thought to myself: “Oh my gosh! Stephen King just gave me THE ANSWER. All I have to do is follow his advice exactly and I’ll be set for life.” After all, if Stephen King said it, it must be true. Right?

Well…

I’ll tell you how I lasted following Stephen King’s advice: three days. The first day, I knocked out those 2,000 words like a boss. The second day, it was a bit more of a grind. By day three, I could barely eke out 1,000 words, much less 2,000. After that, I quickly lost momentum and after another couple of days, I gave up altogether.

Here’s the problem with taking advice or hearing people spout “best practices.” Writing 2,000 words per day might be the best practice for Stephen King, but for me it was a disaster. In writing there’s no such thing as “best practices;” we have to find what works best for us.

The key isn’t to copy-paste someone else’s advice onto our own lives. Rather, it’s our responsibility to weigh out that advice, try it on for size, and then make adjustments accordingly. We need to find our own best practices, rather than simply following someone else’s.

Tip #2: Honor your reality.

This has become something of a catchphrase in the DIY MFA ecosystem. What it means is that we have to honor and respect both our writing life and our non-writing life (AKA “reality”). It’s very easy to beat ourselves up for not writing enough, or not reading enough, or not doing enough work for our platforms, and so forth.

But sometimes reality rears its ugly head and we have to shift our focus away from our writing. During those times, we have to give ourselves grace and recognize that “life stuff” needs to come first, and our writing will be there for us when we’re ready to come back.

A lot of people talk about how we have to “find our writing-life balance,” as if it were as easy as finding items on a scavenger hunt. Creating balance between our writing and our life is a complex, nuanced concept.

When we think of balance many of us imagine scales, like the kind that Lady Justice holds in her hand. This image implies that balance is all about rigid equality. The scale is in balance when the two sides are perfectly level, and to keep that balance we can’t move a millimeter.

But balance is fluid, not rigid. When I think of balance, I imagine being on a boat. Now, if you try to stand rigidly upright on a boat, what happens? You fall on your face. The way to stay upright on a boat is to lean from side to side. If the waves raise the boat on one side, we lean into that. Then, when the waves raise the other side of the boat, we lean in that direction. And we keep leaning to and fro until we achieve what appears to be balance but is actually kind of wobbly.

The same is true with writing and life. If writing and life are like waves outside our boat, we have to lean into whichever side is calling to us in that moment.

For example, sometimes an aspect of our life demands our attention. Maybe we have a sick family member we need to care for, or maybe there’s a big project for our day job, or maybe it’s summer and our kids are home from school, throwing a wrench into our usual schedule. During these times, we have to set our writing aside and focus our attention on the “life stuff” that’s tugging on our sleeve.

But there are other times when our writing demands attention. Maybe we have a big deadline looming from our publisher, or maybe we’re gearing up for an important book launch. In these moments, we forgo things like doing laundry or cooking meals. Instead, we rewear the same T-shirt and order take-out everyday for a week.

And that’s okay.

Honoring our reality and finding balance is about the ebb and flow. It’s not something rigid like Lady Justice’s scales, and it’s not a one-and-done proposition. Instead, we constantly have to choose between writing and life, and shift our attention from one to the other.

Tip #3: Move from instinct to intention.

If you’ve taken any DIY MFA course or workshop, you’ve probably heard me talk about instinct to intention, but this is such an important topic that I had to include it in my top three writing tips. The idea of instinct to intention is simple. DIY MFA word nerds already have good instincts. I say this with utmost confidence because I know the kind of writer DIY MFA attracts.

If you’re here, reading this email, you are likely self-motivated, focused on the craft, and driven to creating excellence on the page. You’ve also probably read a fair number of books in your lifetime and you’ve learned all those writing “rules” through osmosis, just by immersing yourself in stories.

Whether you plan your story down to every detail or you write by the seat of your pants, you know the essentials for how to put together a good story. And when you write by instinct, the result is probably pretty good.

But writing by instinct alone is not enough. Our goal at DIY MFA is to help you get to the point where every nuance, every comma, every turn of phrase is in your story because you put it there on purpose, not because it just happened to come out that way.

I believe that the purpose of a workshop is to move writers from instinct to intention. When you understand the craft concepts and you can identify components in your own work, you are much more likely to make that shift from instinct to intention.

This is why when we critique writers’ work in DIY MFA courses and programs, the focus is always on reflecting back to the writer what we see in their work and what our impressions are. This way, the writer can make an informed choice and go from writing on instinct to writing with intention and purpose.

One of the best ways to make that shift from instinct to intention is to get feedback on your writing, but be careful. Not all feedback is created equal. Many workshop environments ascribe to the notion that we should “tear writers down so we can build them back up.”

Poppycock.

Ripping a writer’s work to shreds is not an effective way to help them move from instinct to intention. All it will accomplish is letting that writer feel miserable and making it more likely that they will give up and stop writing altogether.

At the same time, if all a writer’s group does is wave pompoms and go “rah rah,” that’s not an effective form of critique either. Giving feedback isn’t about making value judgements about what’s “right” or “wrong” with the work. It’s about helping the writer see their work in an objective way.

An effective critique group or workshop is like a mirror. The group reflects back to the writer what it sees and helps the writer identify what’s going on in their work, both in terms of technique and meaning. Once the writer has that objective viewpoint, they can easily make intelligent decisions about what to change (or not change) in their work.

Ultimately, the purpose of moving from instinct to intention is not to force writers to “fix” their writing. A writer might decide not to change a single thing, and that’s okay because now that choice has been made with intention, rather than just through instinct. That’s the goal: to help facilitate those decisions and give the writer agency with their work.

So, there you have it: three top tips for writers. You might be surprised that all three of these tips are mindset-based. I didn’t include any craft techniques or talk about the importance of reading like a writer and building community. Yes—craft, reading, and community are important, but if we don’t have the right mindset around our writing, no amount of technical know-how will help us get those words on the page.

If you do nothing else in your writing practice but work on making these key mindset shifts, you will grow as a writer by leaps and bounds. That’s because mindset is the thing that differentiates the dabblers from the doers. Work on your mindset and everything else will fall into place.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: My Three Top Writing Tips appeared first on DIY MFA.

I love this quote because I think it captures the nature of subplots to a T. The main plot is like a noun or verb in a sentence, it’s the part that conveys meaning and tells us what’s really going on. The subplot, on the other hand, really is like an adjective or maybe an adverb. It may add interest, but the main story can still exist without it.

Lately, I’ve had subplots on the brain, and today I wanted to talk about why subplots matter in the first place. If subplots are “sub” to the main plot, why do we even need them? If they don’t contribute to the main story, what’s the point? Why do subplots matter? Here are five good reasons.

1) A subplot makes the story more interesting.

Theoretically, we could go through life using mostly only nouns and verbs. I’m imagining a story set in a dystopian society where adjectives and adverbs are outlawed. People could still communicate and get their ideas across, but it would be boring. Adjectives and adverbs are what give sentences their flavor and make the language more interesting.

The same thing is true when it comes to plots and subplots. The main plot might drive the story forward, but the subplots add interest and give that main plot flavor. Without the subplot, the main plot might get boring.

For example, take the Wicked Witch of the West subplot in the film The Wizard of Oz. The main plot in that movie is Dorothy trying to get back to Kansas, but the Wicked Witch’s quest for the ruby slippers adds complications and makes the story more interesting. If it weren’t for the Wicked Witch, Dorothy could just meander through Oz at her leisure, and that would be boring. It’s the Witch who creates urgency and makes Dorothy want to get home right away. The Witch also complicates Dorothy’s journey, creating obstacles that she and her friends must overcome.

2) A subplot helps you get through the “muddle in the middle.”

Maybe you can relate to this experience. You start writing a story, and at first everything is zipping right along. You like the characters, the plot is interesting, you come up with a great series of events to kick off the story. But then, somewhere about fifty pages in… you stall out.

Welcome to the “muddle in the middle.”

The second act in any story is going to be a long slog. This is because this act is at least twice as long as acts one and three, sometimes even longer. The best way to get through that long stretch of the sagging middle is to add wrinkles in the form of subplots.

Keep in mind, shorter form work (like short stories, novelettes, or novellas) may forego subplots because they don’t have the space to include them. In short pieces, the main plot is sufficient to carry the story forward, and that’s good because the story’s meant to be short. We don’t want it to sprawl ad infinitum.

In novels, on the other hand, we need subplots to keep the story’s momentum moving forward. These subplots give the story variation, letting us focus on other threads aside from the main plot. This is especially important in the second act of the story, where momentum tends to flag and the plot tends to sag.

3) A subplot can help show a different side of the main character.

We all want characters who are three-dimensional and don’t feel flat. Yet sometimes it can be hard to do that without making your character do something that’s “out of character.” This is where subplots can help. They give you opportunities to show different sides of your main character, so we can see they’re not just hitting the same note over and over.

For example, in The Hunger Games, the subplot of Peeta being in love with Katniss gives opportunities for Katniss to show her softer side. When she hides out in the cave with him and feeds him the broth, we see Katniss playing “nurse,” which is definitely not something we would expect from her. Similarly, the Rue friendship subplot in The Hunger Games gives Katniss the opportunity to play the “protective big sister” role, and we see just how devastated she becomes when Rue dies and Katniss is unable to save her. Both of these subplots give us a chance to see a side to Katniss that she would not ordinarily show, especially not when she’s in survival mode.

4) A subplot can add complications to the main story.

Sometimes, a subplot can be used to raise the stakes of the main story. For example, in The Hunger Games, the Peeta subplot raises the stakes for the whole story. It is a foregone conclusion that in order for Katniss to win the games, everyone else must die. So, when Peeta declares his love for her, that’s a BIG problem and it makes her furious. After all, if she’s to win, at some point in the games, she’ll have to kill Peeta. And it’s that much harder for her to kill him if she knows he’s in love with her.

The Peeta love story adds additional complications to the main plot as the story evolves. For instance, at the start of act three, the Gamemakers announce that there has been a change of rules and now two tributes may be crowned victors, provided they’re from the same district. With this plot twist in play, Katniss can now allow herself to develop feelings for Peeta because she won’t have to kill him. If it were not for that change in the rules, Katniss would never have gone looking for Peeta and subsequently would not have nursed him back to health or kissed him in the cave.

Then, of course, when the Gamemakers change the rules yet again and reveal that only one tribute can win, at that point Katniss has had enough. Her frustration with the Gamemakers, coupled with a hint of feelings for Peeta, prompt her to pull out the berries and give them to Peeta. The two—seemingly out of their undying love for each other—pretend they’re about to eat the berries until the Gamemakers stop them and crown them both victors.

5) If a story is moving too fast, a subplot can help it slow down.

We see this in action movies all the time. The hero is out shooting up bad guys, but eventually, there comes a quiet moment where the hero and the love interest get together. That snippet of a love story slows the pace a little bit and gives the audience a chance to catch their breath.

For example, consider Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark. For most of the film, Marion’s character is almost like a partner in crime with Indy, going with him to Cairo and trying to find the Lost Ark. They get trapped together in the Well of Souls, but eventually escape and manage to get the Ark and get it onto a steamer to transport it back to London. It seems like they have escaped the bad guys, and they have a romantic moment. This scene serves to slow the plot and give the audience a moment to relax after all the action-packed tension.

Up until this point in the story, we have had very little actual romance between Marion and Indy. We know they have a romantic history because it’s alluded to in earlier scenes, and we know there’s romantic tension between them as well. But we don’t really get a romantic moment between these two characters until well into act three. This makes sense because the filmmakers would not want to slow the plot down too much too early in the story. At this late point in the plot, the film has earned a respite and the romantic subplot can come to the forefront for one quick scene.

As you can see, a subplot is an important part of the storytelling process. We use a subplot in any number of ways: to add interest to the main plot, to raise the stakes, or to show a different side of the main character. While you don’t want your subplot to overshadow your main plot, it can be a useful technique to help keep that story momentum going.

Now it’s your turn…

Consider your work-in-progress and ask yourself a few things about subplots. Grab a journal or a notebook and pen and noodle on the following questions.

• Do you have a subplot in your current project?
• If so, why is it necessary to your story?
• Does it fulfill any of the above reasons?
• Or does it serve an additional purpose not listed here?
• If the latter, what purpose does it serve?

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: Why Your Book Needs a Subplot appeared first on DIY MFA.

Up until now, we’ve done analyses of the novels Pride and Prejudice and The Hunger Games, the movies Die Hard and Star Wars IV: A New Hope, as well as the short story “The Story of an Hour.”

Today we examine the fairytale adventure, The Princess Bride, which follows the three-act structure to a T, showing that this story structure works across wildly different genres.

As always, if you need a refresher about the three-act structure, check out this article for an in-depth rundown on this framework.

Spoiler Alert! This movie came out in 1987, so I feel like the statute of limitations on spoilers has long-since expired. That said, if you haven’t seen The Princess Bride yet, get thee to a streaming service, stat! It’s a great movie that’s fun for the whole family and has a little something for everyone (action, adventure, humor, romance, you name it!) Alright, let’s dig into our analysis of The Princess Bride.

DUAL PROTAGONISTS: One of the things that I find particularly interesting about this film is that—like many romances—there are two protagonists: Westley and Buttercup. And because it’s a dual-protagonist story, different significant plot points focus around one or the other of the two main characters.

While Westley eventually becomes a slightly more significant character than Buttercup—particularly in Acts 2 and 3—we still have certain moments where a landmark scene seems to revolve more around Buttercup than Westley.

In a lot of dual-protagonist stories, we usually have twice as many landmark scenes (i.e., pivot points, midpoint, and climax), one for each of the two protagonists. But in some cases, the characters pass the baton from one to the other. The latter is true of The Princess Bride, where we have some landmark scenes focusing around Westley and other landmark scenes centering on Buttercup.

In novels, we often see double landmark scenes because books have more space to accommodate twice the number of significant moments. It makes sense, though, that a film would alternate between the characters, otherwise the story would become too long and the pace would drag.

ACT 1: Westley and Buttercup live on a farm. Buttercup loves to ride her horse and torment Westley, the farm boy who lives and works on the farm. What she doesn’t realize at first is that Westley is in love with her. Eventually, she falls in love with him.

Character: In this case, we have two characters: Westley and Buttercup.

Voice: From the beginning of this film, we can sense that the mood is whimsical and there’s a feeling of magic and adventure. The camera shots have a golden glow, giving the film a feeling of warmth and comfort. It feels like we’re watching a fairytale.

World: While this opening takes place exclusively on the farm, we already get the sense that we are in a magical world. Later, we realize that the world of this story is truly an enchanted place, where people have swashbuckling duels and face off against strange monsters (like screaming eels and giant rodents).

Problem: Westley and Buttercup want to be together, but Westley has no money. He decides to leave the farm and go off to seek his fortune.

Event: His ship gets attacked by the Dread Pirate Roberts, who never takes prisoners. Westley is presumed dead.

PIVOT POINT 1:  This point in the story is interesting because we never see the decision happen. The true moment of choice occurs completely off-screen.

After finding out that Westley is presumed dead, Buttercup is distraught and decides she will never love again. Some years pass and Humperdinck, the prince of Florin, decides he wants to marry Buttercup.

On the eve of their wedding, she is kidnapped by three bandits and gets carried off to the shores of Guilder. The external event is Buttercup getting kidnapped, but the choice comes from Westley—AKA the masked man—who decides (off-screen) to follow and rescue her.

ACT 2:  Now we get to the adventure. The kidnappers climb the Cliffs of Insanity and one by one, Westley faces off with each of them. First, he duels with Inigo the swordsman, and wins. Next, he bests Fezzik the giant.

Finally, he engages in a battle of the wits with the leader Vizzini. Of the three kidnappers, Fezzik and Inigo both do not seem to want to destroy Westley, so when he wins, he merely knocks them out and continues his search for Buttercup. Only Vizzini dies, and that is mostly because of his own hubris.

After being reunited, Westley and Buttercup run into the Fire Swamp, where they must face off against multiple dangers, including the flame spurts, lightning sand, and ROUS’s (or Rodents of Unusual Size). Finally, they make it past the Fire Swamp and it looks like they have escaped.

RULE OF 3:  We see two Rules of 3 in play in Act 2 of the story: the three kidnappers and the three dangers of the Fire Swamp.

With the three kidnappers, Westley does not kill the first two (Inigo and Fezzik) and they come back to help him later in the story. Only the third, Vizzini, who is holding Buttercup at knifepoint, dies because he loses the battle of the wits against Westley. Later on, Westley takes Vizzini’s place as the leader of the group.

In the Fire Swap, we have three dangers: the flame spurts, lightning sand, and ROUS’s. The flame spurts and lightning sand are dangerous but they are inanimate objects. Only the ROUS’s are living beings and Westley fights a significant battle against one of these creatures.

WORST-CASE SCENARIO: What Buttercup and Westley want most is to be together. Their greatest obstacle changes as the story evolves. At first it seems the main thing holding them apart is Westley dying. Then the kidnappers appear to become the main thing preventing them from being together.

Eventually, we realize the true obstacle between them is Prince Humperdinck and his scheme to start a war between Florin and Guilder. From the midpoint on, Prince Humperdinck becomes the primary obstacle that Westley and Buttercup must overcome.

In terms of risk, Westley is willing to do whatever it takes to be with Buttercup and she is determined to hold fast to true love (at least that’s true after she decides never to doubt again).

What’s at stake if they can’t be together is that the mythology around true love will be broken. If true love can’t save these two individuals (who so clearly embody everything that true love is supposed to be) then true love loses all its meaning. 

The two also transform throughout the course of the story. Westley goes from being a simple farm boy to being a swashbuckling pirate-hero, and Buttercup goes from deciding she will never love again to fully believing in true love and holding fast to it.

Notice that most of Westley’s transformation happens off-screen before he reappears as the “masked man.” In terms of on-screen transformation, Buttercup’s is far more significant.

MIDPOINT: The midpoint is broken up into two separate sections. In fact, we have two Temporary Triumphs, a smaller one followed by a more significant one. The first Temporary Triumph occurs when Buttercup pushes Westley down the hill and he calls out, “Aaaaaas yooooou wiiiiish!” She immediately rolls down the hill after him and the two are reunited.

When he asks her why she didn’t wait for him, she says “Well, you were dead.” To which, he replies: “Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.” She then says: “I will never doubt again.”

This is the moment of introspection for Buttercup, where she realizes that she had been wrong to doubt Westley and not fully believe in the power of true love. This scene happens a little bit prior to the real middle of the story, but it sets us up for the next Temporary Triumph at the exact middle of the film.

When Buttercup and Westley escape the Fire Swamp, it looks like they are in the clear and will be able to run off into the sunset together. Suddenly Prince Humperdinck appears with a bunch of soldiers. They are about to shoot Westley with arrows when Buttercup intervenes and says they will surrender, so long as Humperdinck does not hurt Westley.

This moment is the true midpoint of the story and a more significant Temporary Triumph because until Humperdinck and his men show up, it feels like Buttercup and Westley are in the clear.

The earlier moment (“Aaaaaas yooooou wiiiish” and “I will never doubt again”) is significant because it gives us introspection. That moment is what allows Buttercup to intervene on Westley’s behalf. If she didn’t fully believe in true love, she would not have been nearly as confident in trusting Humperdinck with her beloved’s life.

But she does now believe in true love, and she no longer has any doubts. For this reason, she can intervene and allow herself and Westley to surrender, because she knows that no matter what, true love will conquer all. If we didn’t have that earlier, smaller Temporary Triumph (with the moment of introspection) this true midpoint would not have nearly as much significance.

ACT 2 (CONT’D): Humperdinck sends Westley to the Pit of Despair, where Count Rugen tortures him. In the meantime, Fezzik finds Inigo drunk in the Thieves’ Forest and nurses him back to health. Fezzik tells Inigo that Count Rugen is the six-fingered man (who killed Inigo’s father) and Inigo insists that they must find the “masked man” (i.e., Westley) to help them hatch a plot to storm the castle.

Inigo follows his father’s sword like a divining rod and it leads him to the entrance of the Pit of Despair. Inside they find Westley, dead. Together, they take Westley to Miracle Max.

PIVOT POINT 2: Miracle Max reveals that Westley isn’t all dead, only mostly dead. He pumps air into Westley’s lungs and asks,” What’ve you got here that’s worth living for?” and Westley croaks out, “True love.” Miracle Max and his wife make a magic pill and give it to Westley. Then Fezzik and Inigo carry Westley out to storm the castle.

In this pivot point, the external event is that Westley is apparently dead. The choice is Westley refusing to give up on true love. His choice to hold on (and not become “all dead”) is the choice that propels us forward into Act 3 of the story.

ACT 3: From here, the pace picks up considerably. Westley wakes up and the three hatch a plan to storm the castle. Then they execute the plan by scaring away all the armed guards and taking the castle gate key from Chief of All Enforcement, Yellin. Once inside the castle, Inigo finds Count Rugen and fights him, eventually winning.

CLIMAX: At the end of the film, Westley engages in another battle of the wits, this time with Prince Humperdinck. While lying on a bed (because he is still weak), he tells Humperdinck that he will fight him, not to the death but “to the pain.” He then describes in great detail the gruesome way he plans to destroy him.

Humperdinck, not realizing that Westley is weak, gives in. Westley and Buttercup tie him up, then meet up with Inigo and Fezzik, who has brought four white horses for them to ride off into the sunrise.

Ending Type: This is an example of a happy ending. Westley and Buttercup want to be together. They get what they want and they still want it at the end of the story.

FRAME: In addition to this perfectly plotted structure, The Princess Bride also has a frame, or a story-within-a-story. In this case, the framing device is a grandfather coming to visit his grandson who is home sick from school. The grandson is sitting in bed, playing video games, and the grandfather brings a book to read to him.

He tells his grandson that the book is filled with adventure, but when he starts reading the story, the boy immediately cuts him off. “Is this a kissing book?” he asks, clearly not enthused. The grandfather promises that the adventure sections are coming and tells the boy to be patient.

A little later, when we get to the section about the screaming eels, the boy is clearly afraid so the grandfather interrupts his reading to let me know that Buttercup will be alright. Later, when Westley and Buttercup reunite after falling down the hill, the boy again doesn’t want to hear about the romance and says: “Do we have to hear the kissing part?”

As the story continues, the boy becomes more and more invested and interested. When Buttercup supposedly marries Prince Humperdinck, the boy becomes furious and insists that his grandfather is messing up the story.

Then, when Westley dies, the boy is convinced that Westley is not dead and that Humperdinck will be defeated. He asks, “Who gets Humperdinck?” and doesn’t want to believe it when his grandfather tells him that Humperdinck survives at the end.

Finally, when the four friends—Westley, Buttercup, Inigo, and Fezzik—escape on the white horses, the boy doesn’t mind hearing the kissing part. In fact, when his grandfather tries to skip over it, he says it’s okay for him to read it. After his grandfather is finished reading, the boy asks him to come back tomorrow and read the book again. The grandfather replies, “As you wish,” and the movie ends.

This frame is important for a couple of reasons. First, just because it’s a frame doesn’t mean it doesn’t have its own structure. In fact, this frame has a neat little rule of 3 where we have three “kissing parts,” and the boy rejects the first two, but is willing to listen to the last one.

We also see a clear arc in the boy’s character development from being skeptical about the book at the beginning, to being swept up in the emotion of the adventure with the screaming eels, and finally with being convinced that the story needs to turn out a certain way (i.e., that Buttercup can’t marry Humperdinck and that Westley can’t be dead).

And at the very end of the film, we see the boy asking his grandfather to come back and read the book again. The grandfather’s “As you wish” brings us full circle, to the beginning of the story when Westley was saying those same words to Buttercup.

CONCLUSION: The phrase “As you wish” is a recurring thematic element in this film. In fact, there are two neat Rules of 3 surrounding “As you wish,” one nested inside the other.

The first Rule of 3 takes place at the very beginning of the film, when Westley and Buttercup are interacting on the farm, Buttercup makes three requests of Westley and each time, he says that famous phrase. The first time, she tells him to polish her horse’s saddle because she wants “to see [her] face shining in it by morning.” He responds with, “As you wish.”

The second time is when she realizes that every time Westley says “As you wish,” what he really means is “I love you.” This time she asks him to fill some water buckets, but it’s no longer a demand. She says, “Please.”

Finally, the third time is the moment when Buttercup realizes she loves Westley back. She makes an almost silly request—for him to hand her a pitcher that’s right in front of her. He says, “As you wish,” and does as she asks. That third instance is different from the first two in that Buttercup has finally realized she’s in love with Westley. From here on, the two are joined by the bonds of true love.

This phrase—”As you wish”—also comes up at three significant points throughout the entire story. The first time is at the beginning, with those three instances of “As you wish” while Westley and Buttercup interact on the farm.

Next, the thematic element returns when Buttercup pushes Westley down the hill and he calls out, “Aaaaas yooooou wiiiiish!” and she immediately tumbles after him. This is a crucial moment in the story because it’s when Buttercup has her moment of introspection and says, “I will never doubt again.”

The third time that element appears in the story is at the end when the grandfather says, “As you wish” to the grandson in the final scene of the film. This third and final instance is different from the first two because it’s not said by Westley but by the grandfather. In this way, it not only comes full circle and hearkens back to the beginning of the story, but it also serves as a bridge between the fairytale and the frame.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: Three-Act Analysis of The Princess Bride appeared first on DIY MFA.

That’s what this essay is all about: how to make the most of the resources we have, and how to know what to invest in next. Today, I’ll walk you through my signature “double-take” method for absorbing materials, so you can multitask while you learn, but still zero in on the things that matter. I’ll also give you some suggestions on how to vet resources before you invest in them, so you can make sure your time and money are well spent. Let’s dive in.

The Curse of Being a “Good Student”

I don’t know about you, but I’m a “Hermione” through and through, so when I take classes I go all in. I do all the assignments (including extra credit!) and I turn my schedule upside down so I can attend as many class sessions as possible. I take school very seriously.

But being a good student like this can take its toll. Sometimes, we get so caught up in cramming all that knowledge into our heads that we forget to make sense of it and implement what we learn. This is why at DIY MFA there is no such thing as “falling behind” in our courses. Wherever you are is where you’re supposed to be. The point of workshops and classes is to help facilitate learning and encourage implementation. It’s not about hoarding information while we pet it and whisper to it “my precioussss.” It’s about putting what we learn into practice.

So, if you’re a “good student” like me, I recommend shifting the paradigm. We need to recognize that it’s not the knowledge we acquire, but what we do with that knowledge that makes all the difference. Yes, being a “good student” can be a positive thing. (After all, Hermione and her smarts saved Harry and Ron’s backsides on more than one occasion.) But when that “good student” impulse overshadows implementation, that’s when things can become a problem.

This is why at DIY MFA, we place emphasis on practice rather than just learning the facts. Our courses have lots of implementation exercises, and our focused workshops include writing prompts. The goal is always to give writers ample opportunities to put what they learn into action. Many of us, after all, learn by doing, not just by studying.

We need to make the most of our writing resources—be they courses, books on the craft, webinars, summits, or anything else. But how exactly do we do that? This is where my “Double-Take” Method comes in.

Use the “Double-Take” Method

My daughter, Lady Bug, is in fifth grade and is learning how to annotate her reading. As part of her reading assignments, she’s tasked with highlighting her book in three different colors. One color indicates facts she wants to remember. Another color is for text that conveys the author’s opinions. The third color represents passages that she can relate to her own life. One of the skills she’s had to practice is learning not to highlight everything. After all, the whole purpose of highlighting is for some items to stand out over others, and that won’t happen if you highlight all the words on the page. 

The same thing is true when we take in information. It’s very easy to fall into the trap of trying to capture everything. Like good students, we take copious notes and we try hard not to let any details fall by the wayside. (As someone who is both a recovering “good student” and a perfectionist, this approach is totally my jam.)

The point of the “Double-Take” Method is to break you out of that pattern. With this method you let all the information wash over you and catch just one or two pieces that really make an impact. Here’s how it works.

You start by taking in the information via a format that allows the material to wash over you. For me, that’s listening to lessons in audio form, usually while I’m multi-tasking like riding the subway, out for a walk, or doing things around the house. I multi-task on purpose—not as a distraction, but rather to prevent myself from stopping every thirty seconds to take copious notes. While I’m listening, I’m paying attention and trying to capture 1-2 of the most important points conveyed in that lesson.

After listening, I let the lesson marinate in my brain for a little while, then I go back and revisit it, this time with a notebook in hand. (Hence the name “Double-Take.”) But this time, I don’t consume the entire lesson—I fast-forward through it and stop to listen only to those spots where those 1-2 most important points come up. That’s when I take notes, but I’m not taking notes on everything, just the most important things.

This “Double-Take” Method is based on the Pareto Principle (or 80/20 rule), which is the idea that 80% of results come from 20% of the input or effort. There’s debate about whether those percentages are exact, but the point of the Pareto Principle is that a small percentage of input will yield a large amount of output, while the rest of the input won’t lead to very much. So, when we use the “Double-Take” Method, we’re allowing a small percentage of the information gained to have a big impact on our overall learning.

But how do we know that we’ve picked the right 20%? What if we choose the wrong 20% and then we’re learning something that’s completely irrelevant?

The beauty of writing is that it’s subjective. The 20% of information that’s relevant to you might not apply to me, and that’s okay. The point isn’t to pick the “right” 1-2 pieces of information to focus on, but to prevent ourselves from getting bogged down in our learning. After all, while learning is great, it is time spent away from writing. We want to make sure that the time we spend building our craft is productive, useful, and efficient, so we can get back to writing as soon as possible.

Revisit Your Learning

One of the other habits that can be very useful to us as writers is to revisit things we think we already know. Periodically, I’ll pull up a learning resource I’ve already consumed (maybe a lesson from a course or a PDF download) and I’ll skim through it again. Inevitably, I’ll see something new in that resource, something I hadn’t noticed before.

That’s the great thing about learning. Some pieces of information might not be relevant right this minute, but if we come back and revisit that lesson down the road, those will be the pieces that stand out as most important. This is one of the reasons why we offer continuing access in our signature courses, because we know writers may need to come back to the materials again and again.

One of the things I’ve heard over and over from various course alums is “I skipped such-and-such module the first time I did the class, but now I’m taking it again and that module is exactly what I need.” In other words, different lessons or pieces of information will be relevant to us at different points in our journey. This means every so often we should revisit the writing resources we have to see what new insights we might gain from them.

Vet Resources Before You Invest

If you’re anything like me, your computer is probably overflowing with webinar recordings, writing summit replays, PDF freebies, eBooks on writing, and other learning materials. With so much information at our fingertips, it’s really easy to get overwhelmed, and when that happens most of us end up ignoring those resources altogether. So, how do we know where to invest our time (and money)?

The way I go about it is to find some trusted advisors. There are certain people in the writing space whose taste and judgment I trust, and when they recommend something, I’m likely to give it a second look. You need to find a couple of writing experts whose recommendations you trust. I hope DIY MFA can be that resource for you, but I also encourage you to look to other people so you can get a broader range of perspectives.

Now, I wouldn’t advise you to include too many experts in that inner circle of trust, because then the volume of recommendations and opinions will be dizzying. Choose 2-3 people whose work you really admire and follow them. Watch your inbox for their emails, and when they recommend something, give it a closer look.

Don’t get me wrong, you can still follow other experts and be on other people’s newsletter lists. That’s great! Just choose 2-3 people who really resonate with you and follow them more closely. Those are the recommendations you should really pay attention to, and when they share a resource, there’s a good chance that it may be one where you want to invest.

Again, it’s all about finding that small amount of input that will yield the most output for you. In this case, instead of paying attention to dozens or hundreds of experts, you choose two or three. You can still keep other experts on your radar, but those 2-3 “inner circle” experts are the ones where you’ll really focus your attention.

What you’ll find, when you emphasize a limited number of resources is you’ll actually make more progress than when you scatter your attention across the board. That 20% of effort and attention will yield 80% of your results, and by zeroing in on a few key resources or experts, you’ll actually have the bandwidth and energy to implement what you’re learning rather than simply stuffing your brain with information.

Make Time for Implementation

 The last thing I’ll share with you is about the importance of implementation. All that learning you do will mean nothing if you don’t put it into action. This is why at DIY MFA, we make a point of including implementation exercises in our courses and writing exercises in our workshops. We believe that in order to learn, we can’t just talk about writing, we have to do the writing.

Whenever you take a class, go to a conference, participate in a summit, or consume any sort of writing resource, make sure you schedule time for implementation. Put it on the calendar. Carve out 30-40 minutes after you’ve consumed the information and use that time to implement what you learned. Don’t just take notes, but spend time actually putting the concepts into practice.

There you have it, a series of tips to help you make the most of your writing resources. Use the “Double-Take” Method to zero in on the most important parts of any given lesson or resource. Also, go back and revisit different materials from time to time to see if you get new insights. Make sure you vet the resources you consume, and the best way to do that is to follow a couple of experts whose taste and judgment you trust. Finally, remember to schedule some time for implementation so you can put what you learn into action.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: Make the Most of Writing Resources appeared first on DIY MFA.

That’s the topic we’re going to tackle today. Since it’s spring, I’ve got spring cleaning on the brain and I thought I’d do a quick rundown on how to go from brainstorming ideas to planning out a concrete story.

This process works best if you have a manuscript started and have at least a few scenes already written. In other words, if you’re a “pantser” (i.e. you write by the seat of your pants) this approach could be a great fit for you. That said, if you’re a “plotter” and you like to pre-plan your story before you write it, you can also use this step-by-step system and use it to plan your story from scratch. And, of course, if you’re a mix of the two extremes, this process is also a great fit for that “plotter-pantser” middle ground. 

1) Take an Inventory

If you’re a pantser, and you’ve already written part (or all) of your story, this step will be easy-peasy. Basically, all you have to do is sit down with a blank sheet of paper and make a list of every single scene you’ve written. If you’re a plotter and you haven’t started writing yet, just sketch out the scenes you think your story needs.

As you do this exercise, don’t worry about including a ton of details, just jot down a few words for each scene that will help you identify which scene is which. You also don’t necessarily need to list all the characters for each scene, but in some cases you may want to include initials with the scenes so you remember which key characters are in play.

For example, your list might look something like this:

• Scene with B alone in the park
• Dinner party (B, V, C, P)
• Scene where B shares the bad news with V
• Etc.

Don’t panic if you can’t remember each and every last scene you’ve written (or plan to write) and don’t worry about listing things in order. The goal here is just to do a quick inventory so you get a sense for all the different scenes that are part of your story.

2) Make Scene Cards

Once you’ve taken an inventory of scenes, the best next step is to make scene cards. You can do scene cards with index cards or sticky notes (hooray for office supplies!) or virtually by using a program like Scrivener.

Here’s what I put on each card:

• Scene Name (usually taken directly from the inventory)
• Major Players (just the most important characters)
• What Happens (1-2 sentences max.)
• Setting (when/where the scene takes place)
• Purpose (why is the scene in the story?)

Make cards for scenes you’ve already written as well as scenes you think you might want to write in the future. The reason I love this method is because if you haven’t written all your scenes, you can use the scene cards almost like cue cards: pick one at random, then write that scene.

I personally like index cards the best because I love office supplies and they are the most portable option, but you should use whatever method works best for you. The goal here is for each scene to be its own separate unit (sticky note or index card) so you can move things around.

Some writers like to do a more detailed inventory (or outline) where they list out characters and events for each scene in a more granular way than just a list. If that’s the case, you can just print out your inventory and cut it up so that each scene is a separate piece of paper. Voilá! You’ve got instant scene cards.

3) Lay Out Your Scenes

After making scene cards, lay everything out on a table or other larger surface. The goal is to be able to see the whole story at a glance. The reason for doing this as scene cards (rather than a static outline) is that it allows you to move things around if need be.

Leave the scenes laid out for a couple of days and look at your story from time to time. If any scenes seem out of place, try moving them around to see if they work better somewhere else. Let the story “settle” for a few days before moving on to the next step.

4) Mark the Landmark Scenes

Once you’ve laid out your scene cards, it’s time to mark your story landmarks. This includes the three acts, two pivot points (where the acts transition from one to the next), as well as the midpoint, climax, and denouement. Use sticky notes or a brightly colored pen to mark those key points in your story.

Next, it’s time to consider pacing. How long are each of your acts? On average, Act 1 is usually around 20-25% of the story, Act 2 is 50-60%, and Act 3 is 20-25%. This is not an exact science, of course, and some books might have an Act 2 that is 80% of the entire story while others might be broken up almost into thirds. The goal here is to get an overall sense for where those transition points fall and how long each of the acts are relative to the size of the entire book.

You’ll also want to look carefully at the placement of your midpoint. Usually this point in the story falls right at the halfway mark, give or take a few scenes. Sometimes, though, the midpoint might actually span multiple scenes. For example, in Pride and Prejudice, the midpoint begins with the False Failure and Mr. Darcy’s failed proposal, then spans until Elizabeth reads Mr. Darcy’s letter, and finally culminates with her famous line: “‘Til this moment, I never knew myself.”

In addition to marking the midpoint, you’ll also want to note where the climax falls in your story. Usually, the climax falls around the 85-90% mark, though there is plenty of wiggle room. The key is that the climax must occur somewhere in Act 3 and there should still be a scene (or two or more) following it as part of the closure that follows. You don’t want the climax to be the absolute last scene because the story may feel truncated. You want to make sure you leave room for that “sigh of relief” that is the denouement.

5) Map Out Your Story

By the time you reach this point in the process, you should have a pretty good idea of the shape of your story and how everything fits together. Still, if you’re a visual person (like me) you may want to take this one step further and draw a story map. To map out your story you must first identify the Major Dramatic Question (MDQ), which is the main question that drives the primary thread of your story forward. You’ll also want to identify 1-3 Lesser Dramatic Questions (LDQs), which are questions that drive the subplots. Once you have the MDQ and LDQs identified, assign each thread a color and mark the scenes that belong to that thread with a dot in that color pen.

For example, if we were doing this exercise with The Hunger Games we might say the main thread of the story (“Will Katniss survive the games?”) is orange, while the subplots might be blue and pink. Then we mark the scenes with a dot indicating whether they belong to a particular thread. For instance, the Reaping scene, which belongs to all three threads, would have dots in each color: orange, pink, and blue. If a scene does not have any dots on it, then you need to consider seriously whether that scene belongs in the story at all, since it doesn’t contribute to any of the story threads.

After you’ve identified which thread(s) each scene belongs to, you can map your story out like a subway map. Each scene is represented by a stop on the map and each thread is a subway line. The “local stops” are scenes that only appear in one story thread, while the “express stops” are scenes that appear as intersections between two or more threads. You can map out your story like a subway, like this example from The Hunger Games. It might look something like this:

Why do we map out our stories in this way? Aside from making a pretty diagram, what’s the point? The reason we do this is because once you’ve mapped out your story, you can separate out the subway lines and look at each story thread individually. This allows you to make sure whether there are any places where a particular thread sags. When we tease apart the three threads in The Hunger Games map, we get something that looks like this:

As we can see, in the pink line there is a long gap where there are no scenes. Now, in the case of this particular story, it works because that stretch of the story is when Katniss is training for the Games and then the first part when she is in the Arena. For that section of the book, it makes sense that she’s not focusing on her family because her own survival is front and center. It’s only later in Act 2 of the story, where she connects with Rue, that the family story thread becomes more important.

What’s the purpose of this exercise? When we tease apart our story threads, we can see if there are places where a bunch of scenes lump together or if there is a long gap between scenes. Once we identify those places, we can make an informed, artistic decision. It’s possible that we decide to leave it exactly as is because it works for the story… and that’s okay. But the point is that this becomes an intentional choice, rather than a haphazard outcome that “just happened that way.”

Instinct to Intention

At DIY MFA, we talk a lot about making the shift from instinct to intention. If you’re part of our word nerd community, you’ve already got good instincts. I say this with confidence because I know that DIY MFA attracts writers like you, who are dedicated to learning the craft and becoming the best writers they can be.

But instincts alone are not enough. We can write stories on instinct alone, but that would make our process random. Sometimes, we’d get it “right” and other times we might miss the mark. But once we take the time to understand what’s going on in our story and really analyze the breakdown of all the parts, we can start to make intentional choices.

When we shift from instinct to intention, our process goes from random to precise. We are no longer making decisions through trial and error. Nothing in our book will be there by accident, but because we consciously put it there. This gives us artistic control over the outcome and allows us to make our book the best it can possibly be.

There you have it: a step-by-step process to help you get your manuscript organized. You can use this process whether you are a “plotter” and you like to pre-plan every detail of your book, or if you are a “pantser” and you write by the seat of your pants. The goal of this method is not to pigeonhole you or impose a set structure and squash the life out of your story. Rather, the purpose of this exercise is for you to gain clarity on what you’re already doing so you can make intentional choices about your book. 

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

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