The Mind of Bryan Lee Peterson

I think I’ll write some reviews of what I’m reading so that some of you might be able to follow what is going in that creates some of my output. I picked this book to read because I like things that start off with obscure science and math and tries to make it accessible to the reader. I’m certainly not an expert in any of these topics, but usually I can follow well enough to get the book on a more than the average human. I am also feeling a little shy on my hard SF background, and I had the money and the book was there and I wasn’t finding much more at the time. Seem fair? I’ll try to give you an idea of what I learned about writing for each book that I review as well.

The plot centers around Ranjit Subramanian, a math student at a university in Sri Lanka. The first act of the book sets up some of the later characters, but I’m going to focus on Ranjit. Plus, I don’t remember most of their names (shows how memorable they were) and I’ve loaned the book out. The second plot-line features a race of super beings called the Super Galactics who decide the humans on Earth are a threat and need to eliminate them. They send some races there to observe while they send in their henchmen. We’ll discuss some of the races of aliens in a bit. The first act doesn’t really do much in reality, so we’ll move to act 2. In the setup parts of act one, a family friend gets into some trouble, and disappears, leaving a family behind.

Act 2 focuses on Ranjit reuniting them, and finding out that he is now working as a pirate. Ranjit winds up as a hostage on a cruise ship, watching the children and teaching them maths tricks. Eventually the ship is liberated, but Ranjit is held prisoner, during which time he solves Fermat’s last theorem. Shortly after he memorizes his proof, his ransom is met, and he is freed. It is worth mentioning that a new weapon is used to fight the pirates, a non-lethal weapon, and this kind of weapon is interesting to the races rushing to destroy the human race, after all, if they can fight their battles without killing, they aren’t a threat anymore.

Act 3 begins with an ethical dilemma. There is a new weapon on Earth and it is used first on North Korea. The weapon is kind of like an EMP which disables all electronics and weapons in a given area. The group that is in charge of this weapon is part of the U.N. Ranjit is asked to be a part of the group by a childhood friend who is now working on codes and the like for some intelligence services. Ranjit decides not to join.

This is the point where I’ll stop giving you plot details because this is where for all intents and purposes, the plot ends. Ranjit spends the rest of the book, something like 60% of it, watching the world as he gets older, has kids, watches the space elevator get built on Sri Lanka, and teaches at a university. And that’s the real problem with the book, halfway through, the main character walks away from the conflict. Had Ranjit taken the job, and been entwined in the ethical issues presented by the weapon, there would have been a book there.

Fred Pohl indicates that by the time the book was handed to him, Clarke was getting spotty, and so he had to interpret and invent a little bit to get the book right. Problem is, the main character is as much of a spectator as the reader. This is emphasized by how much business Pohl had to invent for Ranjit to do while watching. He has problems figuring out how to be a good professor, he reads a lot of newspapers. He has some personal business to attend to. Nothing that makes for an interesting book. You keep hoping that this is just a lull that is leading to something else, but it never does.

Another disappointing element of the book is the aliens. They can fly millions of light years, and then they get here and ask some of the dumbest questions, like “Why do you live in certain areas of the planet, instead of spreading strictly evenly about the world?” Apparently their planet is evenly rosy and beautiful all over.

They also describe some of the aliens and they make little sense. There’s a race called “The nine limbeds” that are so called because htey have eight limbs that they walk on, kind of like a centipede, and one on their butt that they use to do all of the rest of their “business”. I’m tired of the notion that aliens are stranger than we can imagine, and certainly not beings with two arms and two legs like us and every Star Trek episode. I’m more of the idea that there’s a good chance that they are. We evolved this way for a reason, because it is an efficient model for what we need to do to survive. I think there’s a reason that throughout our planet’s history, the larger animals had four limbs, and it isn’t directly related to a common ancestor with four limbs, and the rest of us are just variations on a theme. The menagerie of aliens in this book reads like a spore creature designer on a little too much acid, and not enough good design sense.

So my review of the book is this: a promising act one, no conflict, dumb and poorly designed aliens, flat characters, and a book that could have been much better.

In television, the one-hour drama is based on a four act structure. These acts are defined by the commercial breaks in between them, and usually end on a cliffhanger. The series I am working on now started off life as a hour long television drama pitch, and I did quite a bit of analysis of current shows at the time. Your average television scene is two minutes. If you time it, you’ll almost always get a scene break at every two minute mark. The first and second act have about eight scenes each, the third will have six, and the fourth will have ten. I’m sure there’s some marketing reason for this, more so than a writing choice reason. In television, you have to have your four to five commercial breaks.

I think this structure is useful in writing narratives of all sorts. In act one, the protagonist becomes aware of the problem. In act two, the protagonist becomes entangled, and this complicates the problem. In act three, the protagonist tries to solve the problem, and fails, which usually raises the stakes in some way. In act four, the protagonist must overcome all of this to solve the problem.

This formula is what I don’t like with some television shows. I’ll pick on House since it is very popular right now. At first, I really enjoyed this show. The characters were interesting, House was as sardonic as I am, the stakes in the story were very real to the characters in the story. On the other hand, the stories became so formulaic that I could almost set my watch to the patient’s seizures and the mention of lupus. I don’t watch it anymore, but my wife does, so I’m going to flip on my DVR, and as I veg out, I’ll make some plot notes. Then we can go back and do some analysis.

Read the rest of this entry »

Go directly to the other parts of the essay:

Part 1: Introduction

Part 2: Film

Part 3: Theater

Part 4: 4 Act Teleplay

Part 5: Aristotle

Part 6: Wrap up

This is the notes for the Compulsive Writer’s Support Group for 11-15-08. If you’d like to subscribe to the podcast, use this link:

http://www.mindofbryan.com/cwsg/feed/podcast/

Writers in general are a curious bunch of people, especially when it comes to another writer’s process. The curiosity is most often centered on outlining versus freewriting, and advice from pros is kind of spotty, and sometimes not all that helpful. I want to give some guidance and some ideas for you.

We can break writers into two different groups, or create a spectrum between these two points. Some writers are completely organic, and some are completely structured. There isn’t anything wrong with either. It’s just an individual way of working. The organic writer has no plan in mind when writing commences, and the path of the piece is discovered in the writing process. The structured writer comes up with a kernel, and may do some early exploration but tends towards finding a plot quickly, creating an outline and writing the way through. I have a tendency to feel that these are two words for the same thing in some ways, but we’ll get to that.

My word of warning is this: if you want to experiment with organic writing and you are a structured writer, you might want to pick a short subject to start with. Any sort of writing is a skill and it takes work to develop not just the skill, but the confidence to push through. A case in point from my own life was in the original writing sessions for The Hidden. We were writing television scripts, and each was 60+ pages of script, which can equate to 75 pages of novella. One of the better episodes was written by Dan Haracz, and he wrote in a very structured way, we talked out the story, had an outline and scene breakdown, and things maybe changed somewhere in the middle, but the structure was viewed as flexible and it all worked out. His next episode he decided to try to let it grow organically, and it fell apart. He wasn’t used to dealing with ideas in disparate parts of the timeline, couldn’t organize thoughts, and just kind of lost the story. I still remember the story, and have it in my head, and will write it soon. I think the failure was that he wasn’t used to writing in this manner, and so organization became an issue, but also that he didn’t have the confidence that he could push through.

I’ll tell you what I do. I’m very organic on most of my short stories. I know at the very most if I take a wrong turn, I’m going to lose 5,000 words, which for me could be a couple days, could be a couple hours. I heard one writer talking recently and he said he writes organically, and the most he’s ever had to throw out was 90,000 words. Gulp. But we have a lesson to be learned here. Don’t be afraid to write the wrong words, or the wrong story. I have had times where I knew a story was wrong, but it wouldn’t go away until I had it written out. The wrong story was a block to the right one. Beginning writers are generally afraid to set down the wrong thing, or to throw away stuff they’ve set down. Pro writers will tell you that this is quite common, an accepted part of the trade. Don’t fear it. Every word that you write makes you a better writer. Every word you don’t write puts you farther from being a good writer.

Now, I have a lot of stories floating around in my head, and they all get worked on constantly, and so the organic portion of my process happens without paper and computer. I take notes as things happen, but mostly I wait until a story is ready to be written before I write it. With as many stories as I have, that is possible. A younger writer might not have that, and so the process is much more on paper.

With longer projects, I definitely outline. I start at the beginning and usually have a good idea of where things are going from beginning to end. In fact, a lot of the time, I can’t even outline fast enough for my head. My outlines are a list of scenes with occasional bits of dialog. The descriptions may be 20-250 words, more if they have pieces of what I think will be finished text. For my next book, I think that for an expected 1000+ pages, my outline is going to be 200 pages on its own. I remember mentioning that to a friend, who was currently working on his largest project, twenty five comic pages. It blew him away. Read the rest of this entry »

Go directly to the other parts of the essay:

Part 1: Introduction

Part 2: Film

Part 3: Theater

Part 4: 4 Act Teleplay

Part 5: Aristotle

Part 6: Wrap up

This is part two of notes from a planned podcast called The Compulsive Writer’s Support Group. It will be available on my official website, www.mindofbryan.com, as well as via a link here. In this section I’m going to talk about the three-act structure of film. I believe this might be a good way to give structure to a novel, especially a shorter Nanowrimo sized novel.

Screenwriters and filmmakers employ a couple different structures: acts and reels. These are simultaneous structures, and I’m much more used to thinking in acts.

In terms of reels, let’s imagine that every movie is 90-120 minutes. This number works for most films. There is a physical limit to how much film we can load onto a projector, and that’s something like 20 minutes. That is a reel. I hear reels being used more in pitching a movie, and producers like to hear very significant things about the first reel, explosions, car chases, a body, whatever really gets the action going. Most acts wind up being two reels in length. If we think about it, most movies have a very significant plot point 15-20 minutes in. Maybe this is a good number for the average movie viewer, the point where we make a decision whether this movie is worth another hour or so, and so we put something major here, just to keep the viewer interested. After this point, we’ve got them.I don’t think we can as writers of novels think in reels, but there are lessons to be learned in the reel. First, the inciting incident needs to come early. There is no better way to lose readers than to bog them down with exposition early. Second, as a smaller division of time, we can think about whether we have the right balance of action, story, character development and plot for a given breakdown of time or pages.

Let’s move on to acts.

There are almost invariably three acts to every screenplay. I suppose you could make a case that Brazil has a fourth act tacked on, and there might be others, but this is the exception to the rule. Acts can be thought of in terms of action, or they can be thought of thematically, or you can think about them as they apply to a character’s development. Thinking about one will often lead you to the others, or you can think of them in conjunction. If you want some support for the theory of a fractal story structure, a film script has three acts, and larger stories that are written at one time are most often trilogies.

There are basic standards for what each act does, however, and knowing them gives us our story’s main structure. Act One is introduction. It introduces the world, the characters, the relationships of those characters, and the problem. Act two is complication. We put more obstacles in front of our hero. Act three is resolution.

Once I have thought about those, I’ll come up with actions and themes to lay over them.

So let’s look at our standard model, Star Wars, for some structural analysis. In terms of on screen actions, the first act of Star Wars establishes the entire series. Since we have a three-fold plot (Empire, Rebellion and Force) we have three main story lines in each act. In act one, Leia gets captured, which in this case represents both the Empire and Rebellion storyline. The Force reaches out in the form of two droids who bring the secret plans to Luke and Obiwan. We meet Han and Chewie, and we escape from Tatooine. We end the act with Luke beginning his training in the Force, and the destruction of Alderaan. I choose this point because it brings us to see the larger conflict, back to the Rebellion and the Empire, and we see just what is at stake. Up to this point, the conflict is hinted at, but not fully elucidated. This keeps the viewer interested in something that was at the time a very foreign idea, and through what is kind of dull in many respects, even though it is necessary storytelling. Read the rest of this entry »