First Writing Exercise

I have been playing around with the first draft of Faith and, at the same time, designing the Writing Coach course.

I have come up with an exercise for people to try and I have an example so please do try this out and see if you find it helpful.

Description and Character Exercise

Not to be confused with character description this is to do with how character effects the way you describe motivation and behaviour.

You will need something to practise on: a passage from a story you have written (but if you have nothing it’s a good idea to go to the Coming Up With Ideas section and have a go at an exercise so you do have something).

You need to identify a character behaviour that doesn’t seem good enough, you can usually tell them because:
 You used an emotive adjective; she felt happy, he felt angry, she left disgusted. These don’t ‘show’ us how the character feels.
 They don’t ring true to your character
 They lack the power you intended them to have

When you have one of these passages you can have a look at the method’s below.
Firstly we need to connect with the character. I always do one of two things (or both is absolutely necessary)

1. A ten minute write on how the emotion makes me feel followed by ten minutes on how this changes my behaviour. Then re-write the passage.
2. Try writing this in first person and then translating it back into third person. Then re-write the passage.

Example

So here is an example; what is important here is that my hero is protective over the heroin. He has avoided her for two years but it is hurting and frustrating him. Intense emotion makes Alex aggressive.

First Draft
Cain cocked an eyebrow at him and shook his head.
“It’s her isn’t it?”
Alex shrugged the strap from his shoulder and lifted the guitar over his head. That was none of Cain’s business.
Cain walked over to the window. Deep set in beyond thick stone lintels, the leaded glass made the outside world look far away. The draft blew Cain’s chin length hair so it flickered back and forth. His eyes looked like they were searching out a horizon but as Alex followed Cain's gaze he could only make out the grey sheeting rain and the blurred outline of black trees branches veining the sky.
“But did you like it,” Alex asked shoving the guitar into the case lying at his feet.
“Is she the reason that you play like that,” Cain said turning to look at Alex and smoothing a hand over his hair. “You need to calm down.”
“I am calm,” Alex knelt down to flick the locks open on the case and open the lid. His heart was still pounding wetly in his chest, his hair plastered over his face. He wiped it away with the back of his hand.

This passage is not working for many reasons, not least because there is a big lump of description about Cain which slows things down and loses the impact of Alex's emotion. Yes we can tell he isn't calm - his heart is racing and he is sweating but the power of this is lost as is the main point that Alex is hurting and playing his guitar to vent his frustrations. However, to improve this lets look more closely at character's motivation and behaviour in more detail.




Ten Minutes On frustration

It flares in me like anger but thicker and heavier. Despair linked to anger and a lack of hope. I feel trapped and stifled, slipping down beneath the pressure of whatever burns in my mind. I can feel it buzzing, vibrating and tightening under my skin, if I chose a colour for frustration it would burnt red, dried blood, stagnant green, mould and dust. Dust that makes me cough and choke so I can't breathe. There is no release, no immediate lifting. It's like a tight spring the winds' tighter and tighter until it is one block of solid tension always beneath the surface always ready to make me act with anger and harsh words. I can feel the darkness in my face, the tension and the anger in my eyes. I don't know how I can feel it but I can see the hard line of my lips. I press them together and force the blood from them, blocking the words that I want to scream. I go hot, when the button is pressed. I can feel it flush instantly under my skin and tighten my jaw. It's like an animal I don't know rises in me and I can't control it. If I were to hear frustration it would buzz. It would be a dead, base sound that rumbles away in the background, like thunder on the horizon, rolling around the valley and the hills. It is background noise that is ready to flair into and angry rift of explosion, never high pitched but low a deathly it will burn into the ears and make you feel sick with self disgust that your behaviour could be so wrong, so out of character and your mouth a sick place where you hurt people.

Ten minutes on frustrated behaviour

I don't think it changes me that much. I am not twitchy, I am tight. I am waiting, like an animal stalking it's prey. I wait until I find the opportunity and without thought I attack. It's like something takes over me. I think frustration makes me listless in away. I can sense the storm is going to break and I wait for the spark to ignite the fire of anger. But how does it make me act: I think I mope, I think I wring my hands around the steering wheel of the car as I drive to work. I play my music too loud, I try to escape through my head so I must be more dreamy, not plugged into the here and now. I know if I ask Mike he would say that I am touchy and I over react to everything. Flaring. But without opening my mouth I am not sure, I don't observe myself, I think I must clamp my jaw a lot. I think I slouch and lack that feeling of lightness that can dance through you when all feels well. So I am heavy, I think I sit down more heavy and move more clumsily but not awkward. It doesn't make me awkward. I think I stoop my shoulders under the weight of the thoughts, not the worry, that I want to be free. No I do worry about the cracks, the bits where I could crack and lose it. I have lost it and drank and cried and ripped pages. I have hurt myself, scratching myself hate into my skin until I bled and hurt. I know what I am capable of and it scares me that I could turn to this. I feel like I am submerged under water and I am waiting to breath again. I am holding my breath and going slowly blue, waiting for something to give. I need my peace, I need to make peace with my soul. I think I am sad. Frustration is laced with sadness and the fear of regret, regret for all the things that could be but your not getting there fast. You might never get there - that makes me feel sick. Behaviour - though, I think I would act irrationally, looking for release in something wild and crazy because then my mind is blanked by the thrill. I would thrill seek. I would invite danger in because in that moment of fear everything is lost, everything pales into shades of grey and disappears under the instinct to survive. And I guess that's the key - you have to survive, the most basic of all instincts. People would misread me and think I was on a path of self destruction but really it was a way of surviving.

Frustration doesn't make you sweat or your heart beat go fast. Frustration tighten and smoothers, makes you feel like you are drowning and you can't breathe. It makes you gasp. You hold things down, you swallow words, you hold everything in your chest and in your throat until it burns. It makes your insides tight and your stomach clench tightly under the pressure of the spring winding itself and threatening to burst out of your guts, in an explosion of release and need and anguish. Yes like a solid spring, winding tighter and tighter until all the springs break in the winding mechanism and everything jammed, corroded and broken. A great metal ball of pressure, like lead dragging you down. A dead weight to drown beneath.


This passage again in the First Person using the findings of my ten minute writes:

Cain cocked his head to one side and gave me his look.
"It's her isn't it - the reason you play like that?"
I swallowed the heat that rose in me, and focused on the guitar case at my feet. Trying to still the sudden rise in me, I knelt beside the case and flicked the two silver catches open. Two years of a frustration being wound tightly in my guts. Two years of biting back the feeling that I was drowning under the lead weight as the spring coiled tighter until it was just a dense ball in my chest. Two years of regret nor for what had been but worse, regret of what could never be. I drowned under it, every moment I drew breath. I know what they thought, they thought I was angry, they thought I wanted to thrill seek, the truth was I was just trying to forget her for a moment. I guess I was surviving the best way I knew how.
I looked at Cain, he was waiting a knowing smile pulling at his lips. Thrusting the strap over my head I dumped the guitar in the case. It went down with a dull thud that made me wince.
"That's none of your fucking business, now did you like the solo or not?"
"You need to calm down," Cain said smoothly.
“I am calm,” I said trying to sound loose but the words hissed from between my teeth.

The Final Re-Write
Cain cocked his head to one side and gave Alex a speculative look.
"It's her isn't it - the reason you play like that?"
Alex swallowed the heat that rose in him, and focused on the guitar case at his feet. Trying to still the sudden rise, he dropped to his knees beside the case and flung the two silver catches open. Two years of a frustration being wound tightly in his guts. Two years of biting back the feeling that he was drowning under the lead weight of the spring that coiled inwardly until he was a prisoner within it. Two years of regret not for what had been but worse, regret of what could never be. He fought against it, every moment he drew breath. He knew what they thought, they thought he was angry, they thought he was a thrill seeker; the truth was he was just trying to forget her for a moment. He was just surviving the best way he knew how.
He looked back at Cain, who was waiting a knowing smile pulling at his lips. Thrusting the strap over his head Alex dumped the guitar in the case. It went down with a dull thud.
"That's none of your fucking business. Did you like the solo or not?"
"You need to calm down," Cain said smoothly.
“I am calm,” he said trying to sound loose but the words hissed from between his teeth.

Writing Well Descriptively

Well, I am still re-writing the first quarter of the Faith (Foundation Book One). It's really hard. I thought the hard bit was getting it down in the first place, you know tying something so fluid down to the page but no. Actually reading back what you have written and making decisions on: what is this scene actually about, what is the emotional driver, is it moving the plot forward and then having to cut some valuable writing that you slaved over - it's just terrible. Oh and re-write means write again - so it takes ages.

Anyway, I have found a companion to help me, it's a book called Description by Monica Wood. It's very thought provoking but then there are no exercises to put into practise what you have just read. So, for all those that know my long term project - the Writing Coach, you can watch out for some exercises around Descriptive writing. I will be using the scenes out of my book as examples so I kill two birds with one stone - so to speak.

Oh on another note - I am very excited about my spin off Manga based on the characters from Ouran Host Club. I am working on that tonight as I want to nail the drawing of Nekozawa and Belzeneffe, so watch out for these too.

So much to do and so little time - as always.

Grace's Book

At last I feel I have got somewhere and I have published Grace's book Timeless as her birthday present.

For all those that fancy trying it out, here is the link:

http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/timeless/8503786

I feel things are moving today but not on my novel. Good old writers block. I think I am phased by the re-write of my first four chapters and Cain is all I can think about which is bad as his character belongs to book two and not this book.