Plot and Character, the Two Great Variables

When you are writing, there are--at the most basic level--two variables in your story. The flow of the plot, and the characters. The plot is that thread you weave throughout the pages of your book, you twist you turn, you knot it into a brilliant tapestry that leaves yoru readers guessing at every turn. The plot is what keeps your reader up at night, what keeps them wanting to know what happens next, and apparently what gets you fangirls. That last bit is just personal experience.

A lot of writers can come up with a halfway decent plot without much trouble. Just throw a few dragons in there, a betrayed brother, an assassination attempt, and a feuding set of countries and you're good. What these writers--and I was one of them for a long time--fail to realize is that plot will not drawn in without character. Yes, it can be fascinating, but if you have bland caharacters, there is no substance.

Ultimately, we pick up a book and read a slice of a character or multiple character's life. The book may be about a civil war between two halves of the elven nation, but it has to be viewed through someone's eyes. And if that person is uninteresting, so will be the story.

What I'm saying is that any plot is uninteresting without interesting characters.

On the flip side of the coin, interesting characters without any significant plot will typically just meander. They'll have interesting dialog and perhaps a few exciting incidents, but there will be nothing driving you forward. An excellent example of this can come from TV shows. I'm assuming I'm going to be somewhat hated for this, but please... This is my blog. Shut up.

NCIS is a character based show. There are occasionally over-arcing plots that pull you forward and make you want to watch the next episode, but they are not going on the entire show. NCIS has some pretty awesome character interaction, but at least for me, the stickyness--or long-term viewer retaining--is low. Now, let's take a look at a plot driven show, one of my favorites: 24. Good characters, but there are certainly shows with better ones. Yet, sit someone down to watch two episodes and they suddenly can't wait for the next two. It's like TV crack.

I use 24 because it provides a perfect example of what a good plot requires: a ticking time bomb. Not necessarily a real one like in 24, but something that the hero(es) has to race against to 'win' or to save the day. It could be an actual bomb, an invading army, a political plot, etc. The point is that there have to be clear stakes. Furthermore, the stakes need to threaten death. And again, this does not neccessarily have to be literal. It could be physical death, but it could also be the death of relationship, the death of a job, etc.

The point here is that a good book needs good characters--one(s) who's personalities and personal issues are very clearly defined--and a good plot--one that threatens death and gives the hero(es) a deadline. Lean two much towards having only one of those and your book might start to suck.

My Recent Addiction

     Swing dancing. I've always loved it. But over the past month, I've really become addicted to it. I don't have a partner to practice with every day like one of my lucky friends--you know who you are--does, but swing dancing is on my mind a lot these days.

     I plan to swing dance a lot in 2013.

     I plan to do a lot of stuff in 2013. I plan to write. I plan to dance, and I plan to lift. I plan to go to college.  plan to get a tattoo. I plan to weigh 200 pounds. I plan to score a lead in the spring play.

     To be honest, 2012 was not a good year. There were a lot of things that were messed up. A lot of things I saw burn, a lot of things I let go of. Towards the end I wasn't in a good spot. But that's changed now. The night was darkest before the dawn... I can see that dawn now.

     It's not the dawn I expected it to be, but let's be honest... is it ever?

Short Stories With Matt

     So I'm going to undertake a side quest in my epic journey towards publication. Don't worry, Alduin, I'll still slay you, I'm just going to take some time to help out this poor guard who took an arrow to the knee five years ago. Skyrim reference. Move along, move along.

     I'm going to write some short stories. These will be related to the main story of my books. They will enhance your understanding of events, but they will not be necessary to understanding the plot. I'm not going to cause Continuity Lockout, at least, I hope not.

     These stories will center around a few characters, some of whom surface in the main books, some of whom do not. The story will be centered around events mentioned in the book, namely the war in Benfor, and the Wilderness War between the Pathkeepers and the Karad.

     Yes, I'm name dropping to get you a little curious about what happens in my books.

     I'm going to be working on outline work for these stories for now, so you can expect an update on that around Thanksgiving time. Each short story will be about 10,000-30,000 words. I hope they'll be something you can enjoy reading.

That Girl, or, Why I Wasted a Year of My Life and You Don't Have To

     Listen up, it's past midnight, and so I'm liable to talk a little crazy. I've been ruminating over details of my life, and I realized for the first time ever that there is actually something I regret doing.

     Everything you do creates a path that leads you to this moment in time, that makes you who you are today. If you like who you are today, that's a good thing. And I do like who I am today. But there is a very large event in my not-too-distant past that I have taken issue with as of late.

     If you're just starting high school, and have any sort of romantic leanings, let me explain something to you. Sometime over the next four-ish years, you are going to meet an absolutely amazing girl(or guy). It will be love at first sight, and when you actually do summon the balls to ask them out, you will fall head-over-heels for them. 'I love you' will be said far, far, far too early into the relationship. You will get wrapped up in each other. You will be convinced that they are 'the one'.

     You're throwing your life away, your prime years. Run as far away from that person as you can, they are trouble for you. 'The one' does not exist. 'The one' is a delusional fantasy created so that you would bind yourself to a person and become dangerously co-dependent upon them. If you get in a relationship with That Girl, you are going to waste over a year of high school. For me, it was most of my junior year and the very start of my senior year.

     That Girl was bad for me. I couldn't see it because I was so 'in love' with her, but because of her, I allowed my talents and my gifts to stagnate for almost one full year.

     The worst part? From the beginning of the relationship, I heard God tell me to leave her, to break up with her. I heard God say that he had something better. I now know that my foolishness ruined a year of my life. Yeah, I had one heck of a dopamine and oxytocin high, but I allowed this girl to wrap me around her finger, I allowed her to take my focus from God and the use of my talents.

     I sit here and realize I threw a year of the time I was supposed to use to prepare for life straight into the trashcan.

     Don't do that. Long-term relationships have no place in high school. Period. High school years are supposed to be a term of preparation for the real world, not a time to prance around and play house with some chick or some dude who makes you feel fuzzy inside. Grow up.

     Furthermore: high school ruins things. Suppose you do meet someone you are insanely compatible with, shares your faith, and wants the same number of kids you do(ladies, I want none, keep that in mind when trying to get my attention); do you really want to have to endure high school together? If there's one thing that being a minor, having a job that barely pays a thousand a month, and having a buttload of schoolwork to do relationships, it's ruin them. This is only magnified by the fact that most people don't even know who they are yet.

     Young relationships are not a bad thing. Far from it. The Bible is constantly saying 'the wife of your youth'. And youth back then was really young. But if you just look at that phrase, you're missing another point, another key verse. Genesis 2:24- "For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh." Hey, guess what? You can't leave your father and mother in high school, you nimrod.

     "But, Matt," you say. "I'm so in love I feel sparkles in my happy place when she/he's around."

     If you're a guy, come a little closer so I can smack you across the face. Love is not a feeling. Get that through your head! Attraction is a feeling. Infatuation is a feeling. Love is the highest commitment to a person that you will place their needs and desires above yours, even unto the ending of your own life. Again, read Genesis 2:24. That's God's description of how dating is supposed to go. Are you a Christian? Are you in high school? Are you in a high school relationship? You're sinning. Get out of that relationship and stop screwing around with your life.

     It's called tough love, deal with it. Stop crying and get over yourself, you'll be a better person for it.

This random late-night post has been brought to you by Monster, the unofficial drink of writers everywhere.

Light

     Light pricked the darkness.

     No legend knows how long that single spot of light shined out of nowhere, no legend tells whether it was bright or whether it was dim.

     The light vanished, for a time. The darkness that had become worlds continued to exist, unsettled by the existence of the light, for the light was a sign of life—that which the darkness had outlasted, that which the darkness had destroyed. The darkness continued to wait, swirling on itself, violent in its stillness.

     Light shone again, this time brighter. As the universe spirals downwards, so it must begin again once it has reached bottom. The darkness shuddered as the light continued to shine brighter and brighter until almost nothing existed save the light.

     The light vanished still again.

     The darkness was disturbed now. It knew that its existence wasn’t forever, that an end to void would soon come. The darkness could do nothing but wait, tensed to smother the light. The darkness heard, as no ear had heard in many thousands of ages, a sound. The sound of a single word, spoken against the void of chaos. In tongues of ages past, that word was known as “death”.

     And so the darkness died, its place now taken by eternal light. Unending, blinding, the light became the universe, shone until nothing save the purest white existed. Energy pulsed in the light, radiating in all directions from everywhere and nowhere at once. Infinite light in every part of the universe. Where once had been the Earth, there was light, where once had been Orion’s Belt, there was light. Black holes that had been swallowed by the darkness were now replaced with the energy of light. Light was all that existed.

     

It was from here that the universe would yet again begin a downward spiral.

Rainfall

     A path in the shadow of mountains. Dirt paved by feet unseen for many years, blackened as the sun dipped low behind the stone wall to end the day. The road stretched on for many miles from north to south. A wind picked up in the east, bringing with it a wall of clouds, too arrogant in posture to yet release their flood upon the earth and turn the path to slick mud.

     The gale whipped through the trees to the east of the road, turning their boughs into a sea that flashed different shades of green as the leaves were twisted this way and that. The foliage rustled, coming alive as the wind tore at it. Thunder rumbled as the clouds drew nearer to the mountain range, to the inevitable clash of nature.

     The warrior quickened his pace along the road south, south to home. The wind buffeted his weary footsteps, and the heavy chainmail in his backpack weighted him oddly. He sniffed the air as the smell of rain grew.

     Lightning flashed from the clouds to the forest, illuminated the darkening landscape and stretched the warrior’s pupils. With a hand to the hilt at his side, he continued along, his worn boots beating out a steady pace. Blood and dirt stained what had once been a lighter shade of hide, but had now become a dark and ugly shade. The warrior looked at the clouds again, almost overhead now, the darkness almost complete as the last rays of sun poked over a peak to the west.

     The wind increased, howling, tearing at his face and hair, pulling him and pushing him. The warrior kept his pace, fleeing from the north, hurrying towards the south.

     The clouds reached mountain range. Sheet lighting cracked in the sky. Thunder boomed, echoed off the mountains and swept across the path and into the forest with a deafening roar. The warrior halted for a moment and peered at the sky, waiting. A droplet smacked against his nose, splashed into his open eye. He blinked and rubbed at his face as more rain followed. The path looked black now, the surface had turned to mud.

     The rainfall turned into a torrent, and a torrent into a deluge, streams racing off the cured leather of the warrior’s pack. His hair clung to his head and his clothes to his body as he set off again, hand ever on the hilt of his sword, head down to focus on keeping his balance as the ground grew ever slicker.

     The lone survivor of the Slaughter at Dumhaven continued through the night, and the storm did not stop.

The Bleak

     Winter turned the blackness of night to a hazy blue and clothed the cabin in a mantle of pure white. A light emanated from the single window, a lamp flickering there. The glow pierced the darkness of the cold night, a tear in the cloak of darkness. It only let one know how alone you truly were in the Bleak. The wind howled, tearing at the senses like brambles at fine clothing, blinding wanderers with ice and snow. The stars could not be seen overhead as the storm began to unleash its fury.

     The blizzard swirled around the hut, all but obscuring the glow of the lamp from whoever may have seen it. One did. The half-mile distance to the cabin may as well have been twenty leagues. The Traveler’s hands were frozen stiff, his thick cloak almost board-like from the ice. Foot after foot he managed to trudge through the snow, his eyes locked on the faint light to the north.

     He had long given up on using knowledge to escape the Bleak. Only years upon years of gathered instincts drove him forward, a whisper in his ear that he was not walking in a circle.

     The light grew.

     The Traveler wanted to spit, but the thought of another icicle dripping from his bearded chin kept his saliva in his mouth. He wanted to wipe his nose, but he kept his hands huddled underneath his cloak, wrapped tight around his body. Only the faintest sensation of cold and wetness came from his reddened face.

     Perhaps only a quarter mile remained. His mind knew the pace he kept, his body did not. The steady beat of his boots into the icy powder ticked away in his head. Another foot, another yard, another span. His mind kept the rhythm. His body grew numb. The light grew in strength. He thought he could see the outline of the cabin now. His mind told him only a hundred yards were left.

     The wind pushed him around, set his course to a stumble. His hands came out form his cloak, he flailed for balance. When he found it, he could not see the cabin. With a desperate slowness, he turned in a circle, looking for the light. He could not see it. Instinct told him north, north, but he could not see north. The stars refused to be revealed, even for the tiniest moment.

     The Traveler spat and another icicle formed on his beard, white as an old man’s from the snow. And then, sure that he could not see the light, the Traveler gave up and sat down to await his death. The blizzard raged and froze him solid.

     When the light of morning brought respite from the storm, he was revealed to be only fifty feet away from safety, yet he would never be found. He would remain one of the many objects hidden under the mantle of snow that draped the Bleak and made it the most dangerous environment in all of Andul.

     That night, another blizzard came, and the cabin was also lost to the world.