Nathan Bransford - The Forums

In theater and cinema, you know when you see overacting. You also recognize the not-so-subtle manipulations of soap operas and action movies alike -- they keep you interested by getting your heart pumping in different ways. As a reader, I'm hard pressed to think of good novels that don't include death, romantic passion, or danger. I suppose this is mostly because when people write about "what matters" the stakes have to be high enough to keep the reader's interest. However, I am starting to feel a little cynical about this stuff when I include it in my writing, even though it appears to flow from the story. It's almost like I'm planting a chase scene to keep the reader on the edge of his/her seat. I'm not schooled enough to understand how, if at all, you know when you are manipulating and when you are creating an appropriate level of empathy/passion for your story. I understand that real interest is created through the characters' inner conflict, but much else should go on in a story to keep the pace up and to raise the stakes, right? Is the answer that this is more art than science, or is there any wisdom out there about when to know you've crossed the sensationalism line?

I try to think of them as connected. You have the inward action and the outward action, but they should be intertwined and playing off each other. The outward action should develop from the inward action, and the outward action should then in turn influence the inward action. I think problems arise when you can pull them apart without any real effect. If you can, some of these elements will likely be superfluous. The inner and outer conflicts should be endlessly pushing at eachother.

Just my take, anyway.

Do you write thrillers, Seamus? It seems people want something very specific from them, and it's up to an author to find a way to be creative when they go "big".

A side of me thinks you're reaction to sensationalism will lead to a birth of some new way of doing what you do for you. To step off the path and try something else requires a degree of bravery, and if I'm right, I hope you successfully "break" what isn't broken.

The concept I believe lying there at the edge of perception I know as melodrama, which can be, like all things writing, contributing or distracting. Studies of the concept of melodrama should provide guidance and insight. It's a Wikipedia topic, a dictionary topic, for places to start and go forward from.

Wow. What a great topic. And Ink's comment hit the nail on the head.

You said, "I suppose this is mostly because when people write about "what matters" the stakes have to be high enough to keep the reader's interest."

The question is, what is it that matters? The answer to that is different for every character, and for every reader. But there are a few basics that are at the core of every person, of which you can present your own twist, or simply build upon. I recently had a discussion with novelist Therese Walsh (via Christina Katz's new site) about this very thing. In reply to one of my questions about character development, she said,

"Blake Snyder, who sadly passed away in 2009, wrote a book for screenwriters that I highly recommend to all writers called Save the Cat. In that book, Blake distilled storytelling secrets including this one: If you want your story to be compelling, your characters' goals must be primal -- they must be things everyone on the planet can relate to (e.g. death, love, family). So choose primal goals for your characters that people can identify with, create loads of conflict and make your characters overcome those hurdles (creating a character worth rooting for, investing readers), and then in the end bring it all full circle."

The hurdles your character must overcome do not necessarily have to be "high speed chases" in order to be intense. The climax of Walsh's novel, The Last Will of Moira Leahy, was not a dramatic fight scene, or a heated argument, etc. It was a "conversation" between two sisters who had finally found a way to forgive each other nine years after a certain event that changed both of their lives forever (if you read the book, you'll know why I put the word conversation within quotation). The emotional significance was much deeper than that, really, but you get the idea. That book made me cry, and that's not something I do often.