Insecure writer: changing point of view

Right now with my writing I'm debating which point of view to use in my next project, after I've heard rumbling from several different places (such as Authoress at the Miss Snark's First Victim blog) that the publishing industry is getting tired of first person present tense. A famous example from a book that probably influenced a lot of writers in recent years to choose this tense (including myself):

When I wake up, the other side of the bed is cold. My fingers stretch out, seeking Prim's warmth but finding only the rough canvas over the mattress.

Authoress says she might rewrite her entire work-in-progress from first person present into third person past tense. Wow! Re-writing an entire book to change tense?

The first Wednesday of the month
 is time for Insecure Writers Support Group,
hosted by Alex Cavanaugh and his
excellent team. 

Ironically, at the same time I'm hearing this talk about how first present tense (made famous in Young Adult by The Hunger Games) is no longer in vogue, I started reading Dodie Smith's coming of age book, I Capture the Castle, written in 1948.

And written in first person present tense! (In the form of journal entries). And here I thought this point of view was a fairly recent innovation.  But it shows that no matter the time period or current trends in publishing, a really good story will trump anything.

I think it's a good exercise to play with different points of view when you are getting started with a new story, finding which one is the perfect "fit" for your characters and the style of the book. I've never really given much thought to which tense I use: for my last story, I just jumped right into first person present tense instead of picking what was the most natural fit for my story, I was reading a lot of present tense in other books at that time. To be honest, all my most favorite books are written in third person past. (Though now that I've fallen in love with I Capture the Castle in present tense, I wonder....)

The omniscient narrator in all her glory

You don't see many books written with an omniscient narrator in modern literature. The omniscient narrator knows the whole story and can add her opinion about the events as they unfold, but on the flip side, it can distract from the characters themselves, keeping us from getting close to the characters and getting "into" the story. But a really, really good writer can pull it off... and I'm about to wax analytical (and fangirly) over one that worked.

Most young adult fiction is written in first person point of view (see my footnote for a famous, or perhaps notorious example).  I've read a few YA books in third person point of view (see footnote for another example), but the only two young adult books I've read with an omniscient narrator were The Book Thief, by Marcus Zusak, and one I just finished: The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, by E. Lockhart, mostly written from Frankie's point of view but often interrupted by an anonymous narrator.

Now, I loved The Disreptuable History: not just because of the opinionated narrator but for SO MANY REASONS (which will be listed later). But before I go all fangirly about this book, first I have to analyze WHY the book makes me go all fangirly.

First, a one sentence summary of the book: Frankie is a sophomore at a boarding school and doesn't like it that her boyfriend won't tell her about the secret, all-boys club he's part of, so she secretly one-ups the boys in the club by out-performing them in all their pranks... but with unexpected consequences.

Next, I simply have to share the first spot in the book, in the first chapter, that made me fall in love with the omniscient narrator in all her glory:

By summer's end... Frankie was curvy, lithe, and possessed of enough oomph to stop teenage boys in the street when they passed her. But if we are to accurately chronicle Frankie's transformation  and so-called misbehavior in these pages, it is important to note that her physical maturation was not, at first, accompanied by similar mental developments. Intellectually, Frankie was not at all the near-criminal mastermind who created the Fish Liberation Society, and who will, as an adult, probably go on to head the CIA, direct action movies, design rocket ships or possibly (if she goes astray), preside over a unit of organized criminals. At the start of sophomore year, Frankie Landau-Banks was none of these things. She was a girl who liked to read, had only ever had one boyfriend, enjoyed the debate team, and still kept gerbils in a Habitrail. She was highly intelligent, but there was nothing unusually ambitious or odd about her mental functioning... 

She had never been in love.

After the narrator spouts her opinion about Frankie's transformation and how it will likely lead to impressive future scenarios (head of CIA, movie director, criminal mastermind), the story immediately zooms back to a close focus on Frankie and what she's going through right before school starts, and the narrator doesn't interrupt for a while, which is important. Because we've got to get close to Frankie in order to get INTO the story, not just be amused from a distance like the narrator is.

How to use an omniscient narrator but still form close connections to the characters:

1) an omniscient narrator can start a story off with a real flare, by raising anticipation about cool things to come in the story, by inserting wry/witty opinion, and by layering on hyperbole

2) after a short introduction, the omniscient narrator has to step down from the spotlight and let the main character(s) become the focus, so we can connect with them

3) the narrator can reappear again at the beginning of some, but not all chapters to impart a little more opinion-laden information, but must pass the spotlight back to the characters after a few pages. Any information imparted by the narrator before the real action begins again with the characters should be delivered with distinctive voice and must be somewhat quirky information, maybe even a bit soap-opera-y, (for instance, details about Frankie's parents' divorce), but also modestly insightful.

4) The narrator can appear again at the end to impart some omniscient wisdom about how things all turned out, but the characters must also be allowed to show the same thing by their actions.

Okay, now that I've got all the analytical stuff out of the way, here we go with the fangirly part. I LOVED this book because:

1) it reminded me of a version of The Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil Frankweiler for teenagers

2) loved how Frankie was a strategist: how she thought about everything before she said anything; she'd consider all sorts of possibilities and consequences in a matter of seconds and then (almost always) come up with a response that kept people guessing about her

3)  loved how Frankie beat the boys at their own game in so many clever ways, but also, she was vulnerable, too (can't go into much details without being spoilery about that part)

4) loved how Frankie manipulated language (like using "nocuous" as a word, the opposite of innocuous)

5) loved the pranks she came up with

6) I loved the ending, so perfectly bittersweet: how Frankie gained something very important to her, but lost something too, but most importantly "she will not be what other people tell her to be"

End fangirl part, and on to footnote part:

FOOTNOTES:

Lots of discussion and examples of the different types of narrators and point of views for fiction can be found from far more reputable sources than myself, but of course I want to share examples from my own experience because it allows me to showcase books I love.

So, here are three examples of different points-of-view from the beginning paragraphs of three famous books.

First person (main character identified by use of "my" and "I")

My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. It was seventy-five degrees in Phoenix, the sky a perfect, cloudless blue. I was wearing my favorite shirt – sleeveless, white eyelet lace; I was wearing it as a farewell gesture. My carry-on item was a parka.

(If you know what famous book this is from, tell in the comments; then again, you might not want to admit you know what book this is from).

Third person limited (main character identified by name and by his/her perceptions)

Walking to school over the snow-muffled cobbles, Karou had no sinister premonitions about the day. It seemed like just another Monday, innocent but for its essential Mondayness, not to mention its Januaryness. It was cold, and it was dark--in the dead of winter the sun didn't rise until eight--but it was also lovely. The falling snow and the early hour conspired to paint Prague ghostly, like a tintype photograph, all silver and haze.

                                 -from Daughter of Smoke and Bone, by Laini Taylor

Third person omniscient: (main character identified by name, but described by a narrator or storyteller)

Though not, in hindsight, so startling as the misdeeds she would perpetrate when she returned to boarding school as a sophomore, what happened to Frankie Landau-Banks the summer after her freshman year was a shock. Certainly upsetting enough to disturb Frankie's conservative mother, Ruth, and to rile several boys in Frankie's New Jersey neighborhood to thoughts (and actions) they'd never contemplated. 

                               - From The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks

Do you have any memorable stories told by omniscient narrators?

Analyzing an alien exchange student

Ready to fall in love with your alien (yes, bonafide extra terrestrial) exchange student? Alienated, by Melissa Landers, releases today. This story is a sleek mix of American high school hijinks, romance, civil unrest and Star Trek Vulcan-ish culture-clash... without being as overwhelming as this sentence is.

Cara Sweeny, soon-to-be valedictorian and debate team queen, agrees to host an alien exchange student. It's been two years since the aliens made contact with Earth, and everything about them is still very mysterious and unnerving, even though they have the same DNA as humans. Even though they've provided a universal cure for cancer.

This post is going to be part book review, part analysis of writing technique, and part sheer jumping up and down in delight. I LOVED this book. It started me laughing in the first chapter and kept me smiling through out, even though it tackles some tough issues and includes some very tense scenes. Cara and her alien exchange student, Aelyx, are a pair you love to see clash. They make each other uncomfortable and frustrated and yet they still manage to grow on each other.

Okay, now that I've totally sold you on the book (wait, you're not sold yet? Please proceed to the review section with excerpts and tidbits that will surely delight you and win you over), the writer side of me has to point out a really well executed dual-point-of-view take off in this book.

The book starts off in Cara's point of view as she discovers she and her family have been selected to host an alien exchange student. She's shocked, (why me???), and justifiably concerned. This is going to change her life. But ultimately she knows it will be worth it, as a unique experience and unprecedented chance to learn about a new, um, culture. It's a great hook for starting a story and Cara's inner dialogue is hilarious, I immediately knew I liked this girl. She's smart and full of quips.

But then, just as I'm getting settled in to Cara's point of view, bam! the point of view switches to Aelyx as he leaves his planet, heading to Earth, and not at all happy about being selected to go there.

Now, this was a seriously risky writing move, because you're putting the reader into an alien head. It has to be different enough to be convincing (yeah, he really is alien), but still relatable, because if it's too alien, it's going to be a hard read, yanno? Well, trust me, the author pulls it off. But the big advantage with Aelyx's point of view is we immediately discover that he plans to sabotage the peaceful intentions of the exchange program. So when the point of view switches back to Cara, with her being all excited and nervous about her new responsibility, and us knowing it's doomed to fail, it really sets the story up with good page-turning tension.

Okay, enough analyzing and on to more happy rave reviewing.

Alienated starts off light-hearted and fun, mostly set in high school; and boy I was glad Aelyx was coated in his alien superiority because it made him immune to all the pettiness. At the same time I loved his brief moments of vulnerability, like when he flashes Cara a grateful look when she rescues him from a pack of L'annabees, freshman girls obsessed with him to the point of dying their hair and spray-tanning and dressing to look like a L'eihr. Speaking of which, "Friends don't let friends abuse self-tanning spray," is a perfect example of the inner dialogue Cara has with herself that kept me grinning through the first half. 

The second half - or about where Aelyx starts thinking of Cara as Elire - the whole tone of the book shifts into something far more serious and heart-wrenching. I loved Cara's courage (and at the same time I ached for her) as she doggedly sticks by Aelyx when anti-alien sentiment continues to rise at their school, in the town, and even globally. This girl has a big heart, and I just love to see how she cracks open Aelyx's well-bred coldness. 

She also has an eye for beauty, which I don't see often enough in YA lit. 

She lingered on the back steps to watch the sheets of foliage flutter to the ground like sunset-colored rain.

And the second half is where we also get the best dialogue, and repartee between Cara and Aelyx:

"Isn't there anything democratic about life on L'eihr?"

"No." He said is unapologetically, as if equally unimpressed with her government as she was with his.

"And you're really okay with that?"

"Of course."

He had to be lying. "I can't believe it doesn't bother you."

"What doesn't bother me? The corruption within your system of government?" He tapped his textbook as if the proof lay within its pages. "The inefficiency? The uninformed masses choosing whichever candidate made the most outlandish promises?"

"The lack of freedom, wiseass."

"Ah, freedom." He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, so cocky and sure of himself. "It's overrated."

"How would you know?" she asked. "You've never tasted it."

The tension continues to ratchet upwards both internally and externally, though a couple scenes with Blake the policeman and with the soldiers add some humor to balance things out.

One soldier propped against his Hum-V was even munching popcorn from a Smartfood bag. He nodded for her to continue as if she's pressed the pause button, and now he wanted to resume watching Romancing the Clone.

The science fiction elements of the book were just enough to intrigue and make me itch for more details about Aelyx's planet, their culture, L'eihr space ships, technology and weapons, and it's all introduced in small, well-paced chunks that imparted a lot information without ever overwhelming. 

But my favorite alien touch, (no pun intended), is the part with the pulse rate. In fact, I'm going back to that bookmark right now to re-read it. Oh, and the part where Aelyx was chanting the periodic table... swoon. Mere mention of the periodic table of the elements usually gives me hives, but not so with Aelyx, TRUST ME. 

I loved the ending: the tough choices Aelyx and Cara have to make and the consequences...and discovering the real reason why the L'eihrs sent exchange students to live on Earth. 

Everything in this story resonated with me except one scene in the very beginning, when Cara first meets Aelyx. If that scene bothers you like it bothered me, don't let it keep you from reading more because the book really isn't like that, I promise. 

I received a digital copy of Alienated in exchange for my honest review. I was not paid or in any way compensated for raving about it. I truly, honestly, deeply enjoyed this book. I plan to buy myself a copy to always keep, but thank you to the publisher for giving me a sneak peak.

Sorry this was such a long post, but wow! what a good book. So, your turn...

Are aliens intriguing to you? Or more like, no thank you, let's stick with humans please?

Musing on theme

What makes a book really stick with me? Of all the story components, I think theme is the "stickiest" one. A good book must have memorable characters, good pacing and interesting plot, but theme is what gets me thinking, even after the story is over. Many books will also stick with me because they surprised me with some unexpected twist, but often it's only the surprise that sticks with me... theme goes much deeper.

Theme is how the story relates to reality and life in general; it can present a view of an issue, or better yet, it can present multiple views of an issue, and consequences of choices related to that issue. One of my favorite books, The Archived by Victoria Schwab, explores what it means to live a lie, coupled with what it would mean to have access to the living memories of dead loved ones. (The sequel, The Unbound, comes out today!)

Another favorite is The Help, by Katheryn Stockett, which gives three perspectives on racism from three different main characters. These Broken Stars, by Amie Kaufman and Meagan Spooner, has a subtle theme of having preconceived notions about other people based on their background, and the roles we force ourselves to play to be accepted by others.

 The story has to pierce the heart of the reader. A great story is always relevant to life on a personal level… for the reader.  (Larry Brooks: Theme Simplified) 

The path toward thematic richness in a story isn’t persuasion, but the exposure of consequences that tweak the emotions. That gets the reader thinking and feeling. (Larry Brooks: The Thing About Theme)

I believe storytelling is one of the most useful tools we have for achieving meaning (Ursula K. LeGuin: A message on messages) 

From the writing side, about how to write theme, I found this comment interesting:

I think it was Ray Bradbury who said something along the lines of, You can’t consciously write the theme, it has to develop on an unconscious level or it feels forced.

I've found that's true in my writing. I can't start out with a theme that's important to me and write a story about. Instead I write a story about an idea, image, or scene that resonates with me, and as the story expands, some themes sneak in (and some sneak back out again) and it isn't until the rough draft is nearly done that I even start to recognize the theme (or that it's missing).

You don’t need to solve the issue for humanity, or recruit anyone to a point of view… just explore it, allow your characters to navigate the core story from within this microcosm and all its nuances and influences.

Larry Brooks' blog, StoryFix, is a wonderful source of information about theme (and concept, that's a whole other curiosity I might muse on next week). Here's something else from his blog that helped me understand theme better:

Think of a song lyric. Something serious and weighty.  The first one that pops into your head.  Got one?  Got several? It’s important to notice that the lyric that came to mind has remained with you over time.  Maybe a long time.  Which means there’s something about it that resonates with you. Your lyric is perhaps the gateway for a story that needs to be told.  And because it was you who remembered it, perhaps you might be the ideal writer to tell it (Larry Brooks: Finding and leading with theme)

So even before I was finished reading this paragraph the first time, a song lyric was in my head, and the theme that once had resonated so strongly to me... and still does. It's the lyrics from Shimmer by Shawn Mullins, and it goes to a story I rough-drafted back in 2008/2009 and have since put on the back-burner to simmer some more (Raining Toward Heaven). Don't know if I'm ready to start working on this again, but I am definitely making note here of how the theme (found in those lyrics) I need to explore more in that story.

What book has a theme that really stuck with you?

Getting to the core of a character

Somewhere before you hit the first big turning point in a story, there's got to be a crucial scene where you connect with the main character. You also need a connection on the first page, or darn close to the first page, but I've talked about first pages lots before. What I'm starting to notice more now in my reading are the subtle scenes that come a little bit later.

Here's what a good story needs right away:

The "first pages connection" isn't quite the same as the hook, or as dramatic, but it's just as important: the character wants something. Never underestimate the power of want! In the first pages, the want  is usually an external one. In Altered, by Jennifer Rush, right away we know Anna wants to spend time with Sam, and to get him to open up more. But he's guarded; he doesn't share much of himself. Who can blame him? He's locked in a tiny cell in a basement.  Anna's free to come and go as she pleases, but she's inexplicably drawn to Sam.

About thirty pages into the story, there's what I call the "getting to the core of the character" scene. We know enough about Anna and Sam and the other boys in the basement to be intrigued. But so far it's been mostly externals.

You know like when you meet someone in real life and you both like Star Trek and horses and writing and mythical creatures and chocolate. (Someone like me, hah). If you like all those things (or even just one or two of those things) I'm going to automatically want to spend some time with you, talking about those things and curious to learn more about you. But it doesn't mean we're going to be best buds, or ever even talk again unless we happen to run into each other again.

I think it's the internals, the core of characters and real people, (wait, characters are real people, right? oops, delusions at high altitude getting me again) that make for a more lasting relationship. Or in other words, get a reader to really connect with a book. (At least for females. Females and males and relationships is a whole other dissertation, there).

Anyway, books that have a "getting to the core of the character" scene are ones that end up sticking with me.

Rather than trying to describe the elements of a "getting to the core of a character" scene, here's an example of an excellent one from Altered which shows up about 30 pages into the story:

"What about what you want? Your hopes, your dreams? What are you passionate about?" He swiveled to face me full-on. "Your instructor was telling you to dig deeper." 

The look on his face transitioned from open understanding to something guarded, as if he was silently prodding me. As if he was holding back what he wanted to say because a frank answer would make it too easy. 

I rested my head against the wall and stared at the ceiling, at the pockmarks in the tile. Trev liked wrapping his advice in complex philosophies. Nothing was ever simple with him. 

The problem was, I didn't know what I wanted out of my life. [How many of us do? We think we've got it figured out, and then things change. Or we change!]. What was I passionate about? The boys. The lab. Dad. Baking. But sketching a pumpkin pie sounded pretty darn boring. 

Maybe Trev read the confusion on my face, because he added, "Start with your frustrations. How about that? It's easier to tap into anger or annoyance."

When I returned to my room that night, I'd opened my sketch book and stared at the blank page. [Or me as a writer, staring at a blank page]. What frustrated me? My mother being dead, yes, but I needed something fresh. 

And then it came to me: Nick. Nick frustrated me. 

Soon, my pencil began to slide across the paper at an alarming pace. As I sketched, I felt it, a fire in my arm, a tingling sensation in my fingertips, like I was bleeding that passion onto the page. When I was finished, I had one of the best drawings I'd ever done. In it, Nick stood in the middle of a deserted street, bottles broken around him, liquid spilling everywhere while he peered out from the page....

You can see by my bracketed comments within the scene just where I was really connecting with this character, with this story.

There's lots of other things that drew me about this story, too. The ending had an incredible twist. Actually, two twists:  a character twist and a plot twist. The book had intense action nicely balanced with  introspection and character development. Tension "thick enough to braid." Details that you notice, but later they come up again and you realize they had another meaning than what you first assumed.  That is such a cool trick, that one there with the lemonade (key word to remind myself) (sorry, I know it makes no sense to you). I definitely need to brainstorm how to include layered meanings in my own writing. 

I could go on and on about cool writerly things I found in this book but I will limit myself to one last one. The infamous looking-into-the eyes cliche!  I looked into his deep amber eyes, and I was lost... gag. Almost as pervasive and terrible as the main character looking in a mirror to describe himself! But here we have something quite different: 

When he didn't immediately counter, I looked up and met his eyes. An unremarkable green, like river water, his eyes were nothing to look at, but they were something else to be watched with.

This observation gives me happy chills because it's such good writing. It makes you catch your breath without being overdone. The main character noticing someone's eyes is so cliche: even an original description of eyes is still cliche. But the author flips the cliche right around... unremarkable eyes, but being watched by them is what is remarkable. 

How important is "getting to the core"  to you? Am I just a hopeless romantic? 

Star Wars, writing and life

The seven-point story structure has been around maybe since stories began, with some simpler and some more complex variations. On one of my favorite blogs, the Cockeyed Caravan,  Matt Bird adds a fascinating element to the seven-point story structure with examples from the two heroes in Star Wars, Han Solo and Luke Skywalker.

This is what he added from advice he received from another screen writer: every hero should first be endangered socially, then physically, then spiritually.

The social danger comes at the beginning of the story, with the inciting incident.
By the midpoint, the danger has escalated to physical danger.
At the plot climax, near the end, the hero faces his greatest test as he/she are in danger spiritually (their beliefs are tested).

Matt Bird also does a fantastic job showing how Han and Luke have different character arcs that complement each other.

I already had the seven point structure down, but when I applied these three different escalating dangers to my latest work-in-progress, WOW!

And then when I applied the different but complementary character arcs (building on my existing character profiles) to my main character and main secondary character, double wow.

This made my brain spark with so many exciting ideas that I then did the wildest thing of all: I applied the seven point structure to my life.  I actually did this twice, once to the first 21 years of my life, then again to the second 21 years of my life (I was brave enough to share the first half of my life but not the second. That's still too close).

So here's how Star Wars showed me the story of my own life.

1)  Opening: We meet a hero who knows what they want but not what they need. They’re clever and responsible about pursuing their short-term goals, but clueless about their own true nature.

Luke: wants to join the rebellion, be a pilot, do something more exciting than be a farmer “if there’s a bright side to the universe, you are on the far side of it”

Han is hiding out in a wretched bar after screwing up his last job. He gets a huge opportunity to do a sketchy job that will get him the money to get him out of trouble.

Me: At the beginning of my senior year of high school, we're encouraged to make plans for our next step in life. I really have no clue what to do.  Most of my friends plan to apply to colleges, some of them really top-notch schools. My parents encourage me to do the same. Why not?

2) Inciting incident: They discover a scary-but-promising opportunity to get what they think they need. This often happens with a disaster in their social situation that pushes them to leave their comfort zone and  get started on the path.

Luke:  R2 leads him to Obi Wan, who tells him about his greater destiny. He waffles on this, until the Empire makes the decision for him by killing his aunt and uncle.

Han: While Han is deciding to take the risky job, a bounty hunter comes to kill him but Han shoots first, forcing him to commit

Me:  I discover an Ivy League university only 3 hours away from me, and it includes a state college where I can get reasonable in-state tuition. It seems perfect: close by, affordable, and prestigious! But my guidance counselor says "I think this university is out of your range. Pick some back ups." I'm offended by this - I'm smart enough to get into an Ivy League. I'm going to succeed even if it kills me.

3) Second quarter: They pursue this goal the easy way and have some fun doing it. It looks like they’re going to get a lot of gain for a little work.

 Luke:  gets a chance to rescue the princess, whose holo message cry for help entranced him way back at the beginning

Han: his new clients turn out to be honorable guys and he impresses them with his lightspeed piloting. Gets a chance to earn extra money by helping Luke rescue the princess.

Me:  I beef up my grades and extra-curriculars like crazy. It's hard work, but an exciting challenge, now that I am motivated.

4) Midpoint crisis (often a physical crisis, or a massive failure): Everything comes crashing down. They lose their place of safety, and stand to lose more than they hoped to gain, but it’s too late to go back now…

Luke and  Han finds themselves flushed down the garbage chute surrounded by enemies. Even the girl is unimpressed with them.

Me: I get rejected from this dream university that I had just spent 6 months working like crazy to get into. My life is over. I've failed. But I still want to go to college...

5)  Third quarter: They start over, doing it the hard way, and begin to make real progress, but this progress ironically makes the task even more personally painful, due to both external and internal consequences that it brings about for them.

Luke rescues the princess and gets to be fighter pilot for the rebellion, his original goal. But the Death Star is moving in to destroy the Rebel base.

Han gets his ship back, impresses the girl, and even gets paid! heads off to pay his debt even though his new friends feel like he's deserting them.

Me:  After I lick my wounds, I figure out that I can go to a less prestigious college for a year, then transfer to my dream university.  I keep working at it, don't give up, and a year later, I'm in!

6) Darkest moment/spiritual crisis: As a result of their hard work, the hero finally confronts what they haven’t wanted to admit about themselves (either an inner strength which they finally accept or an inner flaw which they finally reject)

Luke: All the other pilots have failed to blow up the Death Star. It's up to him, but he has to trust the force to accomplish this, and this seems counter-intuitive to him

Han has to put someone else first (his friends, and the Rebellion) before himself, which is counter-intuitive to him because he's used to putting himself first.

 Me: Oh my goodness. This university is brutally hard. The competitiveness is killing me. I take a long hard look at my motives. The main reason why I wanted an Ivy League degree was for the prestige.  But I'm really not the kind of person who values prestige. What do I really value? Turns out I value being able to express myself artistically much more (mainly through writing).

7)  Final quarter: adding their newfound inner breakthrough to the external progress they’ve been making since the midpoint, the hero resolves their problem in a way that gets them what they need, without necessarily getting them what they originally wanted.

Luke (with Han's last minute help)  saves the Rebellion by destroying the Death Star. They are heros! Han originally wanted to get his debts paid and get rich. He discovers he really want to help his friends in a worthy cause.

Luke's a little harder, because in the beginning he wants to to escape his boring farm life and become a fighter pilot for the rebellion, and that's exactly what he gets. The change he goes through is that he starts out thinking he'll accomplish his goal one way; he ends up learning he has to accomplish it another counter-intuitive way altogether.

Me: Strengthened by my new found discovery about what I want out of life, I stop competing like crazy, and  I still manage to get my degree but with a lot less stress, making time to include writing and other ways to express myself that brings fulfillment.  I originally thought I wanted prestige. Turns out I really wanted artistic (writerly) expression.

Applying this same structure to the next twenty years was equally eye-opening, dealing with big things such as love, failed relationships, career, and a long battle with depression and other issues. Last fall, I had my seven point "breakthrough."

No wonder why human beings crave stories that follow this simple, archetypal structure. In some mysterious way, it's built into our own lives, our own stories.

Do you think you could apply the seven point story structure to your own life?

What's harder, beginnings or endings?

Most people start a new novel for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). That's what you are SUPPOSED to do, according to the rules.

I used it to finish a novel, this year (my YA SF, Star Tripped).

I thought it would be...easier. I already know my characters (or so I thought). I knew my setting. I knew *most* of my plot. Granted, all these things are constantly evolving during the writing process, but having a detailed outline to work off of and a good handle on the first half of this novel, I was sure NaNoWriMo this year would be a breeze.

Cue sighs of frustration, hair-pulling and the constant temptation to buy chocolate and cheetos to get me through yet another difficult scene. For one agonizing stretch of three days, I couldn't write at all (except in a journal format, possibly breaking more NaNoWriMo rules).

I managed to get through it, with much brainstorming and several scenes written purely on a "trial and error" basis, and some frantic stretches of writing to get caught up.

And now I officially think endings are harder than beginnings, because:

1) you have to tie your character's internal arc into the plot's turning points or high and low points

2) you have to ratchet up the tension near the end to breathless levels

3) you can wing a lot of things in the first half of novel because you're assuming you'll have it all figured for the second half. Hah.

4) you have to tie your plot strings together logically. Defensibly. Hah hah.

5) you have to account for all your characters and sub plots. How did this get so complicated?

6) your outline fails you at the end. You thought you had it all worked out, but when the rubber hits the road, it's a whole different story.

Almost literally, a whole different story.

One thing I am still sure of: NaNoWriMo rocks. I love my NaNo buddies. Leslie Rose, Highland Writer, Susan Kaye Quinn, Sunshine 21, Vicki Tremper, you guys and your progress bars kept me going. Really. Thank you, even when I wanted to kill you for almost always being ahead of me. (Except for Susan. Everyone needs a come-from-behind hero).

And you know that feeling when you write the last sentence of your novel?  If you don't, keep at till you get there. Because it is amazing. There are no words to really capture it - and I've been through 50,000 words lately.

here's my last line:

“Don’t worry,” I say with a smile, sure of myself. “He’ll come back.” 

So what do you think is harder, beginnings or endings?

17 tips for starting a story

We all know that if we don't catch a reader's attention in the first few pages (in some cases, only the first page!), we've lost them - they'll move on to another book. And a great first chapter won't keep them reading if the second chapter gets boring. 

Here's a checklist I've compiled to help make the start of the story interesting enough to keep readers hooked (hopefully). This is the third of five checklists, starting with 38 ways to check for character life signs and 21 ways to make your plot more compelling.

Only one of the 17 items of my checklist refers to a specific location in the beginning of a novel: the first page. The rest of the items might refer to the first page, the first scene, the first chapter, or several first chapters (since chapter length and number of pages used to set everything up can be extremely arbitrary). 

Some genres have more defined "rules" for starting a story. For this reason, I am prefacing this checklist with this excellent advice from Larry Brooks @ StoryFix: 

Go to a bookstore.  Pick up novels that are by known authors in your chosen genre. Read the opening chapter of as many of them as you can.  Just the opening scene. Notice how and why it works.  Or if it doesn't work for you – if you aren’t hooked – try to determine why. [My method is download free chapters to my Kindle app]. 

1. Is your opening scene/chapter about what the story as a whole is about -  a microcosm of the story? (without  telling us too much about it) (source: Larry Brooks @ Storyfix)

2. Does your first page include a compelling or striking opening image that raises a question? Make your reader ask "why is she doing that?" or "what's going to happen next?"  The teenage protagonist in Across the Universe (by Beth Revis)  has to watch her mother and father strip down and submit to being cryogenicly frozen, and then decide whether she'll  go through the same process. Why are they being frozen? Why does her father insist that her mother goes first?

3. Does your opening show your character doing something  particular or specific to him/her, that defines what she wants, or defines her character or need? The more compelling or striking the character's actions, the better. She/he should not just  be thinking or reacting to others.  In The Golden Compass (by Philip Pullman), on the first page Lyra is shown sneaking into a room forbidden to anyone except Scholars, making keen observations about the room and giving snappy responses to her nervous daemon's concerns which give us an immediate sense of her headstrong character.

4. Does your opening include an inciting incident, the event that sets in motion the central conflict of the story? (It should also at least hint at the stakes involved, though these may not come into play in the opening). Sometimes the inciting incident happens right away, sometimes it doesn't happen until the end of the first chapter or several chapters in. In The Help (by Kathryn Stockett) the inciting incident is when the antagonist, Miss Hilly, insists that her friend put in a separate bathroom for "the help" - it's not acceptable for a black maid to share a white family's toilet. Overhearing this plan makes the protagonist, Skeeter, realize that something should be done about this prejudiced attitude.

5. Does your opening immerse the reader in one or more of the three cornerstones of story – concept, character, and theme?  Concept is a what if scenario: what if teenagers were forced to kill each other off in front of a televised audience? The first scene in The Hunger Games shows the set up for the picking  of teenagers. Character: the first scene in Gone With the Wind shows Scarlett O'Hara as the center of attention. Theme: in Lord of the Rings, the first chapter shows how the Ring, with its great power, has a pernicious influence on its bearer at his birthday party. (source: Larry Brooks @ Storyfix)

6. Does your opening include your protagonist  with other characters - showing how he interacts with the world? Two or three is ideal: not too many other characters or the reader will be overwhelmed.  (source: Anne R. Allen)

7. Did you give your protagonist strong emotions in the opening scene, emotions the reader can identify with? The reader doesn't have to identify with the situation, but must identify with the emotion (source: Anne R. Allen). One caveat: don't start with your protagonist whining. In general, starting with your character in a negative mood is less likely to win the reader over (source: Elena Solodow). 

8. Does your story start in the process of something: taking a risk, something going wrong, a secret being revealed, a desire being denied?  There is a sense that something is about to happen and usually that it won't be good for somebody. (source: Janice Hardy). 

9. Does your opening include voice and some unique phrasing and avoid cliches at all cost? Example of a cliche: "His hands were like ice."  Example of unique phrasing: "His hands felt cold as the dead goldfish Mom kept in our freezer."  This works because it asks questions and its unique (Elena Solodow)

10. Does your story start with something non-typical? Waking up in the morning in your bedroom is typical (source: Elena Solodow). Waking up on the deck of a ship: better, because it asks the question - why is he/she sleeping on the deck of a ship?  But even better, find a more unique thing for them to be doing than just waking up. Solodow's post also includes a helpful list of other things NOT to include in your opening, and over-used openings.

11. Did you start at the moment closest to the beginning of the main conflict of your story as possible? (Valerie Kemp)

12. Does your opening reflect the tone of your novel? e.g. lighthearted, humorous, sarcastic, dark, suspenseful, adventuresome, etc? Identify the sensation and experience you want to evoke in your reader and then make sure you evoke it. (source: Alexandra Sokoloff)

13. Does your opening include all the senses?  Get the reader to smell the coffee as if they are actually there. (Source: The Blood Red Pencil blog). 

14. Does your opening include the main character(s) with their personal stakes, hopes and fears, immediate wants and as yet undiscovered needs? These are are included in much more detail in my checklist for characters, but this bears repeating: do you state what your main character wants within the first few pages and what's standing in their way?

15. Does your story's first act (not necessarily the opening, but definitely the first third of the novel) introduce the antagonist and other important characters which can include the mentor, the sidekick, the mirror, the foil, the love interest? 

16. Does each bit of information you reveal in your opening relate to the other parts, rather than dishing out disparate facts, emotions or actions? No matter how interesting and relevant the information you are giving the reader, if it doesn't flow, or connect, if won't hold the reader's attention (source: Moody Writing). 

17. Is it interesting? (The three word question that sums up all the rest!). 


And a late addition, thank you Laura Marcella for reminding me:


18. Does opening include foreshadowing? 

21 ways to make your plot more compelling

This is second of five checklists I've put together to help me in revising my novel. My first checklist, for characterization, is 38 Ways to Check for Character Life-signs. I'm also compiling checklists for Starting your Story (the all important first page and first chapter), Setting/Description, and Voice/Dialogue (coming soon).

To build a compelling plot, start with a tried and true structure. Here are four resources that provide variations on the basic story structure.

1. Four-part story structure (Larry Brooks, Rachel Savage): this pdf shows the four parts using a fun circus tent analogy

2. Emotional Structure (Peter Dunne): Susan Kaye Quinn created a five-point story structure based on this book.

3. The Writer's Journey (Chris Vogler): provides a 12-step story structure called the Hero's Journey

4. Save the Cat (Blake Snyder): Fifteen-point story structure. Laura Pauling shows the structure of How to Train Your Dragon in these 15 elements

I use these resources when I'm prepping and outlining. After writing my first draft, I bring my checklists into play to figure out what I need to revise. Here's my plot checklist:


Beginning

5. Does your first chapter include a hook that raises a question or sets something in motion? (source: StoryFix: Hook vs. First Plot Point)
In some cases, this can be the same thing as the compelling opening image on the first page, or it can come later in the first chapter.

6. Does the first act of your plot include a major turning point? (StoryFix: the most important point)
This is where everything changes for the main character. It forces him to make a choice. To really make a compelling plot, this first turning point should also move him/her into a new situation where everything is different (or even opposite) of what his normal world used to be.

7. Does your plot have high enough stakes? (source: Janice Hardy: What's at Stake)
There has to be something personal at risk, not just a general danger. The main character(s) can't just walk away from the problem without losing something very important to them.

8. Does your plot include a dilemma?  (source: Cockeyed Caravan)
It's not enough to force your character to make a choice between good and evil. It's got to be more complicated than that. For Clarice in Silence of the Lambs, the only way to catch one serial killer is to give another one what he wants.

9. Does your plot include plants and payoffs? (source: Laura Pauling)
A plant is a symbolic object or an event or in the first part of the story that re-appears in the middle or the end, but with a change that reflects the change in the story.

10. Does the plot include a false goal and a true goal for the character?  (source: Cockeyed Caravan)
In the movie Avatar, Jake Sully wants to be a marine again (false goal). But he ends up fighting the Marines to save the world and people he's fallen in love with (true goal). Instead of a false/true goal, you can use a  micro-problem/macro-problem, or if the problem stays the same then start with the wrong methods to solve it and end up with right ones.

Middle 


11. Does your plot include a deadline? (source: Cockeyed Caravan)
If you can't impose an actual deadline, you can create the sense of one by having one character challenge another, "You'll never be able to do that!" or "You'll never last."  I put this requirement in the middle act because setting a deadline or a challenge can be a great way to keep your middle from sagging.

12. Does the middle include a part where the hero is forced to face his/her fears or inner demons? 
Often this meeting is NOT successful. (The scene in Empire Strikes Back where Luke Skywalker faces an imaginary Darth Vader during his training and fails the test).

13. Does the middle include a place where the hero makes a mistake? (source: Adventures in Children's Publishing, Plotting Complications Worksheet)
This is often a result of his/her first unsuccessful encounter with facing their fears. Again, in Empire Strikes Back, after failing the test encounter with an imaginary Darth Vader, Luke rushes off before he's ready to "save" his friends and steps into a trap.

14. Does the middle include a revelation? A point where new information is revealed that worsens the situation? (source: StoryFix: 8 moments you must deliver)

End 

15. Does your plot include a moment when all seems lost? (source: StoryFix: 8 moments you must deliver)
This is the point where the hero has tried everything, maybe even conquered his inner demons, and it still looks like the bad guy(s) are going to win. Sometimes this is when the hero actually gives up and turns away or turns back (though we all know something will happen that makes him/her get back into the fight, we just don't know what it is, yet).

16. Does your main character have to sacrifice something to make for everything to turn out okay?  (source: Janice Hardy: What's at Stake)
It's not uncommon to see the personal stakes shift to those larger 'save the world' stakes, but at this point in the story, the larger-scope stakes feel more personal because of this sacrifice.

17. Does your ending leave a few unanswered emotions or questions? (source: Cockeyed Caravan).
A few unanswered questions and unresolved emotions are necessary to really have a profound effect. Great art shouldn’t be entirely satisfying. It has to disquiet us a little bit. It has to have a few holes for us to get stuck in.

18. Does your ending have both a "wow, where did that come from?" element AND a "but of course, it had to happen that way" element? (source: K.M. Weiland).
These may seem contradictory, but both are needed for satisfying ending. A combination of foreshadowing and enough distracting complications is required to pull this off.

Everywhere

19. Does every scene serve some function to move the plot forward?
Sub-plots have to be related to the main plot. Scenes used to develop characters should also be related to the plot.  Avoid tangents that don't serve a plot purpose.

20. Does your plot include reversals? (source: Nathan Bransford)
Star Wars is the classic reversal of fortune, where an unknown farm-boy turns into a save-the-galaxy-hero. It's also full of scene-by-scene reversals or a series of ups and downs that are the essence of a gripping story.

21. Does your plot include unexpected twists? 
A compelling plot includes unexpected events or revelations that change everything we thought we knew and takes it to a whole new level. Janice Hardy provides some ideas for coming up with plot twists.

If you like checklists, then here are two more plotting checklists that I also use:

StoryFix: the single most powerful writing tool you'll ever see that fits on one page

Adventures in Children's Publishing: Plotting made easy - complications worksheet 

What are the stories/movies that come to mind when you think of great plots?

The third character changes everything

I'm continuing to write pitches (one sentence loglines) for Sophia Richardson's 30 pitches in 30 days fest and discovering more pithy pitchy things and a cool character-driven plot tip. 


Last week I figured out that my ideas, if they weren't related to something I was excited about, couldn't evolve into a real pitch. They just sorta stayed in half-pitch limbo land (just like that brief and humiliating moment when my gym teacher wanted to see if I could pitch a ball).

So here's an example of a great pitch, from the movie Mrs. Doubtfire:

Crushed by a court order allowing only weekly visitation, irresponsible dad Daniel disguises himself as a nanny to spend more time with his kids. 

(Netflix is a great source of movie pitches like this one, btw. Also, google "Publishers Weekly previews" for some great one-line descriptions). 

Here's what my half-pitches were coming out like:

An impulsive girl takes on a dare to sign up for missionary boot camp and...

Fizzle.

Anyhoo.... what I've learned this week in building my pitches was actually from a random comment a very helpful soul named William Greeley left on this StoryFix post:

Here is a plotting method that I got from Bernard Grebanier’s “Playwriting.” It does not work for everyone:

A story is about the relationship between two characters, the central character and a second character. The turning point is an action the central character takes on a third character that changes his relationship with the second character.

For instance... In “Romeo and Juliet”, when Romeo kills Tybalt, his relationship with Juliet is doomed.

Eureka! The third character changes everything.

So here is one pitch attempt I came up with this week when I played around with adding a third character:

When a prodigal daughter returns to her family, her bitter older sister tries to ruin her chances of rebuilding her life and complicates a budding romance with a mutual childhood friend. 

Ye-ah. Still needs some work. Which leads me to Sophia Richardson's pitch check-in post today, and how "only lazy thinkers have bad ideas. Everyone else just has ideas that haven't been played with enough."

She also has more pitchfest-related posts, one with great a genre-flipping idea and another one that points out that a better pitch is one where your character is taking an action instead of just having things happen to him/her.

Katherine Owens also checks into today with a pitch and clues about where she gets her ideas, and why letting ideas cook for a while is important. 

Idea (without passion) = dud

Those people who are idea factories? Who come up with so many cool ideas they have to play eny-meenie-miny-mo to pick which to work on next? Those people frustrate me. One of them is a close friend of mine. (She's also a writer). I love her. I admire her. I admire her ideas, but I also want to strangle her when she starts yet another conversation with that dreaded "Oh, I had a great idea last night! Let me tell you about it." (And really, they are great ideas. She amazes me).

See, I have come up with exactly 4.5 good story ideas in my life (add a few more fractions if you count short story ideas). I get a lot of wonderful ideas to add to my 4.5 stories or to put a nice twist into an existing plot, but not anything original enough to boost that basic number up to 5.5. (Or even just 5.0).

But I also believe that our brains have an "idea muscle" and if we exercise it, amazing things can happen. When I'm brainstorming to flesh out one of my 4.5 story ideas, or to fix a plot hole, I start working this muscle with lots of "what if" questions, and soon cool things start to happen.

But that's with an existing plot idea to start with. What if you have to start from scratch?

What if, say, you are so fed up with your idea-less self that you decide to join a friend (like Sophia Richardson) in something crazy cool like a challenge to come up with 30 loglines/pitches in 30 days?

I spent the first six days of said 30 days scratching my head. Even with some great idea-catching tools that Sophia provided  (here's three of them)....

30 Pitches Pitstop #1 (some great tips here)
This is How I Do It (her process for evolving ideas into a pitch)
What's in a Pitch (the basic pitch components)

...I still came up with... zilch.  Experiences from my life? Booorrring. The only one worth exploring, in my opinion, I had already used in plot idea #3 out of 4.5.

Newspaper/magazine articles? Blech. Lots of ideas, but not enough spark to get them to that next evolutionary stage, the logline. Also known as the pitch. A character in conflict with consequences, in one to two sentences.

It finally occurred to me: ideas without passion were duds. The missing crucial element was passion.

What am I passionate about? (besides my family and horses. Oh, please not another kid/horse story).

Well, my own blog sidebar convienently reminded me: I love history, faith, maps and mythical creatures.

I started thinking about some of my favorite moments in history (ones hopefully not written about already). Ideas started popping like popcorn. Not very original ones, but at least the ol' idea muscle was flexing a little. Great stories of faith, ditto.

With a germ of an idea,
even if it's not very original,
if it's about something that EXCITES you,
it is only a matter of time
before you figure out
how to put a new spin on it.

Maps - well that one stumped me for a while. I'm a geography geek with maps plastered all over the walls of my home and office - but, how to get a story from that?  Then  I read Elana Johnson's most excellent post this Monday - Mixing the Strange with Normal.

Take one normal thing, a map, and mix it with a strange thing (or, not-normal thing) like... take your pick. Time travel (a  map that takes you back in time). Or, dual personalities (a double-sided map with a dark side). Oh yeah, fun ideas really started percolating. Perk, perk - no caffeine required (well, maybe a little. And a little chocolate never hurts, either). 

Then I looked at mythical creatures. There are whole encyclopedias written about mythical creatures, which I have been known to waste countless hours at work on my own time browsing through. Information overload!

So first I made a list of my favorite creatures, then I crossed out all the common ones that everyone loves to write about: dragons, zombies, vampires, faeries, werewolves, changelings and other shapeshifters (not that I wouldn't love to write about these. But I figured I might need to barter my soul to come up with a truly original idea).

Then I added a few bizarre ones to my list, ones I bet most people haven't heard of (unless you grew up in or studied about their country of origin). I started skimming the myths and folklore on these creatures. Put a spin on this myth, change the location on that myth, a modern-retelling of another myth - ideas bubbling all over the place.

Idea high! Idea rush! Idea overdose! Oh my mythical madness, what fun.

What's your favorite idea for coming up with ideas?

Mark Twain converts from pantser to plotter!

How come you never see plotters converting to pantsers?  Would this be an unnatural evolution?

I started out as a pantser, but did a lot more pre-plotting with novel #2 and even more with novel #3. I don't think I could go back to writing by the "seat of my pants." My life is so busy with other commitments that it's hard to justify the time to do first drafting without a plan, when I know it would result in restructuring and major re-writes.

Heads up: fantastic example from the Hunger Games coming up soon. Feel free to skip my musings on different plotting methods.

I'm still a panster, too. While I'm writing my first draft off my plot outline, suddenly a new idea will pop into my head, or my character will go off in an unexpected direction, and I go with it. That's pantsing.

But it's not a complete reversal from plotter to pantser, because before I go too far, I revisit my outline and work the new direction into the plot and my character sheets, readjusting to make sure everything still fits together.

With NaNoWriMo starting in less than a month, I'm spending October brainstorming and plotting to get ready for take off on November 1st.

Here's some pre-plotting methods I recommend:

First novel: after realizing that pantsing my novel resulted in glaring plot holes alongside way-too-complicated plot tangles, I chose the Marshall Plan for Novel Writing by Evan Marshall to outline my new, streamlined plot for a massive re-write.

Second novel, first draft: used the Marshall Plan with modifications from the Writer's Journey, by Christopher Vogler, which elaborates on the mythic structure of the hero's journey,  found behind most storytelling.

Third novel, first draft: used a combination of the two methods above, plus a beat sheet and other great tricks from Save the Cat, by Blake Synder.

So this year I am using all three methods above, plus another popular one: the Snowflake Method, developed by Randy Ingermanson at AdvancedFictionWriting.com.

These methods are actually pretty easy to combine because they are all based on the Three Act structure but each offers additional insights, tips and tricks.

I had to give the Snowflake Method a try because I recently read a tip from Randy Ingermanson's October newsletter that really impressed me.

You'd think folks would have run out of fodder from the Hunger Games by now - I've read soooooooooo mannnnnnnnnnnnny posts on writing technique with examples from this great book (and they've all taught great lessons). Here's yet another great lesson, thanks to Randy:

The Hunger Games is a deep and powerful story. The reason is very simple. Each of the two main characters has three values that are in conflict. Let's look at Katniss's central values:

* Nothing is more important than survival.

* Nothing is more important than my sister.

* Nothing is more important than avoiding love, because the more people you love, the more you have to lose

Each of these values is in conflict with the other two. Katniss decides early in the story that she values her sister more than her own survival. The ongoing conflict in the story comes as she feels a growing attraction to Peeta. Can she dare to return his love, when she knows with certainty that they can't both survive the arena?

Likewise, Peeta has three central values:

* Nothing is more important than survival

* Nothing is more important than protecting Katniss

*Nothing is more important than being true to who you are.

For Peeta, these values are in massive conflict.

I really believe Randy pinpointed the reason why the Hunger Games is such an emotionally gripping story. He goes into a lot more detail in his October newsletter. It's worth reading in full (actually, all of his monthly e-zines are worth reading).  But here's a great summary of it:

Look into your characters. Push them against the wall and make them fill in the sentence, "Nothing is more important than _________."

Take what they tell you and run with it. For the novelist, nothing is more important than values in conflict.

As I'm snowflaking-hero-journeying-beat-sheeting-Marshall-planning I'm also going to be brainstorming conflicting character values.

Story is characters in conflict, but powerful stories are also values in conflict.

BONUS: hey, just figured this one out my own! Identifying your character's values that are in conflict is a giant help with character development. 

Yeah, it takes me a while to see the obvious! (shaking head at myself)

Please share. Do you have a recent favorite movie or book where the main character has a conflict with values? (If you are especially brave, ask yourself this question about your own values, too. I have a HUGE conflict between two of my values. Maybe I'll share that some other time...)

What's the purpose of the sixth sentence?

The Ultimate Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, The Universe, and Everything is 42 (from the Hitchhikers' Guide to the Universe) - but what the heck does that mean? When it comes to the question of your own purpose in life, can anyone but you answer that question? But there are some things as writers that we can answer for sure: every sentence in our first chapter (or at least our first few pages), can and should have a very definite purpose.

This really hit home to me in this great post by Ann Meier hosted at Janice Hardy's writing blog. She talks about analyzing the first chapter of your favorite best-seller book in the same genre that you are writing in. Analyze it right down to the sentence level. Ann said because she is a kinesthetic learner, she took the time to retype the best-seller first chapter word for word.  I haven't got to the every word level, but I did recently do a sentence-by-sentence analysis of the first chapter of a YA book I very much admired, Jennifer Donnelly's A Northern Light. 

I learned a lot identifying the purpose of each sentence:

1. First sentence: evocative setting that asks a question. "When summer comes to the North Woods, time slows down."  Why does time slow down?
2. Second sentence: specific setting details: where (a resort on  a lake), when (1906)
3. Third sentence: creates atmosphere, shows the character's take on the world and her place in it- "children of doctors and lawyers" - we get a sense (via showing, not telling) that the main character, Mattie, is a poor girl who works at a resort frequented by rich people
4. Fourth sentence: characterization (with voice) and building tension: "I believe these things. With all my heart. For I am good at telling myself lies."
5. Fifth sentence: building tension "Until Ada comes out and slips her hand in mine" "Any other time the manager's wife would have scorched our ears for standing idle, but not now"
6. Sixth sentence: first dialogue, hint of disaster: "they've been dragging the lake"
7. 7th - 9th sentence: more dialogue - emotional reaction to potential disaster "Mattie, I'm scared"
8. 10 -12 th sentence: characterization via internal narrative "I don't answer her - words fail me sometimes. I've read almost every word in Websters New American dictionary... right now I want a word that describe the feeling you get when you know you'll never be the same person again... I imagine it's the same feeling Eve had after biting that apple..."
9. next 10 sentences: dialogue, action: a girl's body has been discovered in the lake, Mattie is asked to make sure all the guests are out of the parlor before they bring the body in
10. "save the cat" moment: an action that makes us identify with the main character and like her: Mattie remembers seeing the girl at the resort the day before, she remembers thinking the girl looked distraught, so she brought her a lemonade and didn't charge her for it
11. next sentence: raises a dramatic question: Mattie blurts out "what about the man she was with?"
12. next sentence: raising stakes, tension: the sheriff asks "Did you see something, Mattie?"
13. next sentence: directly involves main character, presents an obstacle: "I don't hear him. Behind my eyes I see a packet of letters tied with pale blue ribbon, letters I promised to burn"
14. next sentence: more questioning, tension: "Did you know something about what happened?"
15. final sentence: leaves us with a unanswered question: "what had I seen? Too much. What did I know? - only that knowledge carries a damned high price. Miss Wilcox, my teacher, had taught me so much. Why had she never me taught me that?"

In Ann Meier's post, she identifies the same list of purposes for each sentence in the first chapter (though in a different order, of course - the sixth sentence doesn't HAVE to hint at a disaster!) The best-seller she used also had two other sentences with a distinct purpose:

1. introduce a goal
2. provoke laughter

The first chapter doesn't show that Mattie has any goal, but this does show up right away in the second chapter (and the first chapter is so short it's almost a sort of prologue). Her goal is to earn enough money to move to New York City to go to college - pretty daring for a poor country girl in 1906. That's why she's working at the fancy resort, to earn money. The girl's death, and the letters the girl gave her that may contain the clue to her death, have involved her in something big that may obstruct her goal.

Provoking laughter - probably not a necessary ingredient in the first chapter of a book that starts with high drama and a potential murder mystery.

This was a fascinating exercise and worth doing for other books too to see not only the purpose of each sentence but also to see how the author accomplished each of the crucial ingredients.

I bet analyzing other books would reveal a few more helpful ingredients for first chapters - if you know of any others please share!