KDP and AI Rules

When it comes to book creation or cover design, there is no question some writers and designers are using Artificial Intelligence. Regulation follows the advent of any major shift in creation. So, what are the rules when publishing through KDP using AI? How do they know it is AI? What will they do if it is AI-created? Let's take a look.

1. Can AI created text and art be copyrighted? 

Short answer, no. Since AI pulls from many copyrighted materials to make its word and art salad, your spin on the AI site is not considered an original work. Therefore, you cannot upload it to any site and claim copyright: not on KDP, Deviant Art, nor any stock photo sales site.

2. What is the difference between AI created versus AI assisted?

AI assistance can come in the form of answering questions, doing research for you, and helping you outline your novel. There is nothing wrong with assistance. There are software and books and blogs to help you outline a novel, do research, etc. I have a whole series on Story Building Blocks to help you outline your novel, build your characters, and your world. That kind of assist is okay. The line is drawn when AI creates the content for you, in part or in whole. If you are copying and pasting content AI has created, it is not considered an assist. It is considered plagiarism because of the sources AI was trained on.

In regard to covers, if you go to one of the many delightful AI art sites and say "I need an image of a fantasy village with dragons," you cannot use the resulting image for your cover. The work around to use AI only to assist is to make a collage of what you want a village or dragon to look like, upload it to AI to make it fleshed out, then put it back in your photo manipulation program and make changes. That makes it "original" to you. Just a brief detour to say, you have to pay for commercial licensing for most stock art and fonts. Just because it appears on a "free" site does not mean you have a commercial license for it. Those "free" sites are tricky that way. Free for personal use, yes. Free for a product you sell, not necessarily. If you have a commercial license for stock art, you can manipulate it for your cover. Same with a special font.

KDP requires you to inform them of AI generated content (text, images, or translations) when you upload you title or republish a title. You are not required to disclose AI-assisted content. So, what's the difference?

Per KDP's website:

"AI-generated: We define AI-generated content as text, images, or translations created by an AI-based tool. If you used an AI-based tool to create the actual content (whether text, images, or translations), it is considered "AI-generated," even if you applied substantial edits afterwards.

AI-assisted: If you created the content yourself, and used AI-based tools to edit, refine, error-check, or otherwise improve that content (whether text or images), then it is considered "AI-assisted" and not “AI-generated.” Similarly, if you used an AI-based tool to brainstorm and generate ideas, but ultimately created the text or images yourself, this is also considered "AI-assisted" and not “AI-generated.” It is not necessary to inform us of the use of such tools or processes. You are responsible for verifying that all AI-generated and/or AI-assisted content adheres to all content guidelines, including by complying with all applicable intellectual property rights." KDP "

3. Can I use AI to translate my novel?

Not if you upload your content and tell AI to create a foreign language edition. It's important to note that AI sites, even Google translate, cannot be relied upon for accuracy. You really should have a native speaker or trained translator assist you. If you rely on ChatGPT, that's on you.

4. How can they tell?

This is probably the most critical part for anyone wishing to slip under the radar. The answer is filters and algorithms that can identify AI-generated content and plagiarism. Do they make mistakes? Yes. Can you appeal? Yes. There are filters for art and filters for writing. It is similar to the plagiarism filters. So, don't be like the cut and paste thief. You could get sued by Romance Writers of America. Some filters can recognize paraphrased plagiarism too, in case you wondered. If you are caught plagiarizing, your account is deactivated. They are not, to my knowledge, doing that with AI-created content.

There are programs and filters for plagiarism and AI content. Most require an account and payment. There are many plagiarism sites not listed here. These serve as examples.

Turnitin states it can detect paraphrased AI content and ChatGPT generated content and Quillbot paraphrasing with 99% accuracy.

TraceGPT, also referred to as AI Plagiarism Checker & ChatGPT Content AI Detector, is part of PlagiarismCheck.org. You must make an account to use it.

Winston AI integrates with Blackboard, and Google Classroom, and can be used by businesses to detect plagiarism. Can also give you a readability score. It can scan documents, pictures, and handwriting. Can be used with Google, Edge, and Firefox.

Hive is a free AI content detector for text, image, and voice.

GPTZero detects ChatGPT, GPT4, Google-Gemini, LLaMa, and new AI models.

Originality.ai is a plagiarism and fact checker.

Does KDP run every file through a filter? I couldn't find a clear answer. I know they run a grammar and spelling filter for the virtual proof.

5. Why are AI-generated novels sold on Amazon?

A recent speaker bragged that he wrote and published 7 books with AI in the past year. I looked him up. The books are there. I have seen obvious AI created covers on traditionally published books too.

How is that possible given KDP "doesn't allow" AI work? Well, it kinda does.

“While we allow AI-generated content, we don't allow AI-generated content that violates our Kindle Direct Publishing content guidelines, including content that creates a disappointing customer experience,” Amazon spokesperson Ashley Vanicek says.

That's a non-answer if I ever saw one. Which is it? You do or you don't? The answer is, you probably aren't safe from plagiarism or copyright infringement claims, but they won't stop you from trying.

Under the current guidelines, authors are required to disclose whether their book contains AI-generated content by checking the box on upload. You can mention AI-created in the book description or author's notes.

KDP Content Guidelines

So, you can, in fact, sell it through Amazon.

Why allow it at all? I suspect they are gauging whether AI-generated books will make them money.

I use AI spins for character creation. I start with a paper doll created in Photoshop and spin it on NightCafe then refine it in Photoshop. There are always identifiable artifacts. AI is horrible with hands, ears, and facial features. It adds extra limbs. It is bad with images that look real instead of drawings. The resolution can be quite poor, so you have to paint over it anyway. I have played with keywords for days before I get anything remotely usable. If I knew animation, I would prefer to make images that way. Sadly, I don't have those skills. Yet. I have grown leaps and bounds with Photoshop over the past five years. I get that people don't want to take the time to learn. I prefer stock images I manipulate which I pay for when I create a cover. If AI can spit it out, I can recreate it on Photoshop. I prefer to pay the original artist or photographer and font designer for a commercial license when possible.

It may be tempting to create a bunch of books with ChatGPT if you need cash. However, writing is only half of the job. Marketing and publicity are the other half. If you upload a book to KDP or any other platform, it sits there unnoticed for 90 days until it falls off the algorithm entirely. You need a platform and your reputation is on the line. You will have to work just as hard to sell an AI created book as you would one you wrote. There is no fast easy cash in the publishing business. Is that the reputation you want? Are you willing to risk the ramifications if you unknowingly plagiarize someone else's work?

In summary, just because you can doesn't mean you should. Someone presented a monkey-created painting as fine art. "Experts" oohed and aahed about the lines and colors and said it was worth millions. They were humiliated when it was revealed the painting was by an ape. I imagine the reaction would be the same if it was revealed that ChatGPT wrote your book. So, proceed with caution.

As always if you find this information helpful, share it, like it. If you want more free information, sign up to follow the blog on blogger or the Story Building Blocks Facebook Page. Free tips and tools are also available on my site https://dianahurwitz.com/.

2024 04 04 Situation Is Not Story

I've heard a lot of great ideas for stories from people over the years. The problem? They describe a situation, not a viable plot. Ideas are a dime a dozen. Inspiration from dreams ditto. They can be a seed that grows into a story, but not without a lot of work. The conversation usually goes like this:

Writer: "This girl is in this really unhappy relationship. I mean the guy is an obvious psycho, but she just can't leave him."

Me: "So it's a woman in peril story. " Could be Thriller & Suspense or Literary Drama depending on the way it is told. "She has to escape the psycho boyfriend?"

Writer: "No. It isn't that kind of story."

Me: "So what kind of story is it?"

Writer: "It's about abusive relationships."

Me: "So what does your character do about it? What makes her realize the danger? How does she get away?"

Writer: "She can't leave. That's the point. Women get trapped in these things and they can't get out. There's no one that really helps them." Okay, so Literary Drama with a down ending.

Me: "True. So what happens in this story?"

Writer: "This woman lives with his horrible guy. And he does (fill in list of awful things)."

Me: "And she learns to fight back?"

Writer: "No, no. She can't fight back or he'll kill her."

Me: "So she escapes." Women in danger Thriller then. 

Writer: "She can never leave. That's the point."

Me: "So, she dies?" This could work as a Literary tragedy with a strong thematic message.

Writer: "No. She's not murdered."

Me: "So what actually happens between Chapter 1 and the End?"

Writer: "That's it. She lives in an abusive situation. So many women do. Readers will relate, right?" 

Me: "Yes, too many women are in that situation. But what kind of story do you wish to relate? You have to pick a genre."

Writer: "Oh, I'd never write genre fiction."

Me: Sigh. "Changing the topic ..."

However you wish to tell a story, you must pick a story form unless you are keeping a journal. Even an epistolary novel has a form.

The author could highlight this plight in a nonfiction article, this isn't a story with structure. This is a character with a problem but not a plot. Until the character does something, even if she fails, this is just a horrible situation.

For it to become a story, the main character trapped in a hellish situation becomes the hero by finding a way out. A catalyst comes along that makes the situation untenable enough that she is forced to take action. It could be a literary story. It could be a thriller, or even a police procedural.

But, until the character defines a goal, makes a decision or takes action, and faces obstacles, it's just a situation. The story could have a down ending. The woman could try and fail and try again and end up dead. Not too many readers would love the ending, but it would be a realistic cautionary tale. The struggle for safety is the story.

A situation is Dick being in an unhappy marriage. The story begins when something comes along to make him want to leave it or fix it.

A situation is Sally hating her job. The story begins when she is fired, competing for a promotion, or finds the courage to start her own company.

A situation is Jane being betrayed by a friend. The story begins when Jane decides to do something about it: get revenge, confront and heal, or make her friend see the error of her ways in a misguided fashion.

A story goal with obstacles and responses are the gears that power narrative. You can write pages and pages of anecdotes that, while entertaining, do nothing to propel the story forward.

If you can't identify a central conflict and resolution of your plot, you could be illustrating a situation and that is how you lose readers.

Every chapter should include conflict represented by obstacles and responses. Every chapter should show characters moving toward or away from the goal until they reach the final outcome.

There's nothing worse than turning pages and wondering what the whole point of a chapter was. If I have to go back and reread it looking for a point, the book goes in the "to be burned" pile.

As you go through your first draft, make sure each scene pulls its weight. Don't waste the reader's precious time, or you might find your book in ashes, your name blackened in the process.

To learn more about obstacles and responses, check out Story Building Blocks II: Crafting Believable Conflict and the free tools on dianahurwitz.com/theory.html. 

How Does The Story End?

At the conclusion of your exciting tale, most readers are rooting for a happy ever after ending. They want the bad guy punished, the good guy rewarded, and the lovers to be in love.

Sometimes a tidy ending isn’t where the story should go. Should you change it to conform or end it the way you feel deep in your gut it should end? It depends on genre. A Romance should end happily ever after, or at least happy for now. A down ending gets moved to Women's Fiction or added as another layer to a different genre. A murder Mystery should be solved. There can be an overarching foe for a series, like Professor Moriarty in Sherlock Holmes, but each book has a case that is solved.

Beyond that, the resolution of your story can be a little more creative.

Every story has a central question. Will the protagonist succeed in his overall story goal? There are multiple answers.

1. Yes. Dick succeeds and there are no gray areas or hanging questions. The plot is tied up in a neat little bow. He feels good about it. This is an up ending. Readers love up endings.

2. No. Dick fails and feels bad about it. He fought tirelessly, but in the end just couldn’t win. This is a down ending. Readers are sometimes disappointed by down endings.

Romance: The lovers walk off into the sunset happy.
Thriller & Suspense, SciFi, Fantasy: The threat is averted and life goes on in a better way.
Horror: The monster is defeated, never to return.
Historical: The revolutionaries win and push the enemy off the battle ground.
Western: The shootout occurs and the Sherriff survives to fight off bad guys.
Con, Heist & Prison Break. The heist is a success and the gang take off with their winnings unscathed.
Team Victory: The underdog team wins the tournament or game. The crowd goes wild.
Gothic: The governess survives the crazy woman in the attic and lives happily ever after.
Mystery: The case is solved and the murderer either put away for life or dies.

3. Yes, but. Dick succeeds at one thing but fails at another. He succeeds but there are ramifications of his success that carry on into the future. He succeeds but at a terrible cost he didn’t calculate. This is a form of up-down ending. These work well in a trilogy. The first two  books end Yes, but so there is another story to finish the series.

Romance: The lovers walk off into the sunset happy, but it leaves others in a bad position. This is shuttled off to Women's Fiction or another genre. Love comes with a cost.
Thriller & Suspense, SciFi, Fantasy: The threat is averted, for now. Either a greater threat has been uncovered or there were consequences to the win that they couldn't foresee.
Horror: The monster is defeated, they think. It either isn't really banished or there is another greater threat coming up the pike behind it.
Historical: The revolutionaries win the battle but not the war. There are more conflicts to come or their actions create a new worse conflict.
Western: The shootout occurs and the Sherriff survives to fight off bad guys. Sometimes the Sherriff dies. Sometimes another threat arrives to be vanquished in another book.
Con, Heist & Prison Break. The heist is a success but the gang members are imprisoned. Maybe the heist leads to a prison break. 
Team Victory: The underdog team comes in second but still feels good about it. There is always next year.
Gothic: The governess survives the crazy woman in the attic and leaves realizing love does not overcome all.
Mystery: The case is solved, but the mastermind survives to fight another day.

4) No, and further more.  Dick not only fails, but he is further punished or must try again in a sequel. Dick may have been going for the wrong goal and not only does he realize he is wrong, he  must take on a new challenge to make it right.  Dick fails at his goal, and we realize he was the bad guy all along. This is similar to the Yes, but option for all genres.

5) Yes and No. Dick thinks he has succeeded or failed in his goal but there is a twist ending and he finds the opposite is true.  He can kill monster A only to find out the real monster is B. Dick may win the battle but cause a major war. Dick may succeed but hurt everyone affected.  Dick succeeds at his goal but during the final credit roll, he gets nailed by an oncoming bus. This is another type of up-down ending.

6) Maybe Yes/Maybe No. The ending is left ambiguous. It is never made clear what really happened or how the story ends. The reader is left hanging. They may want to hang you. It is a risky artistic choice.

Whichever ending you choose, your story architecture must support it. The ending must grow organically from the actions and decisions leading up to it. You don’t have to make everyone happy. You just have to leave your audience satisfied. The worst thing is an unsatisfying ending that makes the reader feel like they wasted their money. I once read a book where an alternate ending was tacked on at the end by a new POV character and it basically undid the nicely wrapped up package. Never read that author again. 

As always if you find this information helpful, share it, like it. If you want more free information, sign up to follow the blog on blogger or the Story Building Blocks Facebook Page. Free tips and tools are also available on my site https://dianahurwitz.com/.

Weaving Separate Plot Threads

A parallel plot tells two stories of equal importance, moving from one to the other and back again as opposed to a subplot. It can be a past versus present story. It can be one or more characters whose plots intersect. The more threads, the weaker the connection to the story. It can be done but requires advanced craft to do it well enough that you keep the reader entranced.

It can be hard to get caught up in one plot when the writer shifts the verbal camera between separate story lines, especially if they don’t connect. The potential for plot holes is enormous.

If you choose a parallel plot or plots, ask yourself these questions:

1. Who do you want the reader to care about?

Splitting the focus between two (or more) protagonists weakens the reader’s attachment to them. Every time you move the verbal camera between them is a point where they can put the book down. If you fail to make them care about either of them, they may skim past those scenes or simply quit reading. Every single thread needs to have its own impact and tension. Too many point of view characters can stretch the reader’s connection to the story. Do you truly have two protagonists or does a secondary character just play a main part? The love interest really isn't a protagonist. There is (almost) always a person's whose POV starts the ball rolling and has the decision to make, action to take, and stakes for not doing it. Just because a character's POV is followed does not make them a protagonist in terms of story cast. You can have five a-list stars in a movie. They aren't all protagonists.

2. What do the threads have to do with one another?

If you use this technique, it is critical that the plots intertwine, not run along aside each other, meeting only at the end.  When the reader doesn’t understand the point of the split, they are likely to put the book down. I am not saying it hasn't been done, but it is a choice that can have negative consequences. I once skipped half a book because one thread simply didn't matter and held no tension. That is not the kind of page turning to aim for.

3. Are the threads equally intriguing?

It is hard enough to maintain tension in one plot line, much less two. Making both threads equally thrilling is twice the work. Making both threads equally thrilling and related is grueling. If only one thread is interesting, the reader will do a lot of page skipping, unless they toss the book in the do not finish pile. Plot out each thread separately. Are all of the pieces there? How do they impact one another? How can you layer the scenes to keep the pace moving forward? Backstory, flashbacks, and memories are not story plots. They augment a plot. There are many stories that explore a story that happened in the past that has impact on a story in the current era or a future era. For example, a modern-day literary love story that is impacted by a romance in the past. A mystery with a modern day sleuth mirrors a case from another time and place. A historical thriller has a plot in the modern day that uncovers the full story of what happened in the past. Each layer has a main character, friends, foes, goals, stakes, and outcomes. 

4. Does it suffer from too many characters?

Each protagonist interacts with friends and foes and either the same antagonist or different antagonists. Two protagonists and antagonists equal twice the work. Every primary and secondary character you add dilutes the emotional connection to the story. Keeping track of a vast cast, especially if one needs to consult a list or take notes, can put your story in the do not finish pile. As much as George R. R. Martin is heralded, his books suffered from cast bloat and many readers didn't finish the books. They were happy when it was adapted for TV. I suggest sticking to the POV of the main character for each plot or stay in omniscient POV. Using a close POV can also cause problems if not done well.

5. Does it have a satisfying conclusion?

There is nothing worse than wading through complex construction only to reach the end and find a weird twist or obscure denouement. Don’t make one of the plot threads a dream. There are genres that require a happy ending. Romance requires a happy ever after for the main couple. A mystery requires the resolution of the current case, even if there is an overarching evil villain that returns in the next book. Moriarity in Sherlock Holmes is an example of a retuning mastermind. But each of Sherlock's cases are solved in the books. The rest of the genres can have an up, down, or even up/down endings. 

6. Is it appropriate for the genre?

Separate plot threads are not the same as different point of view characters. It is two separate plots. If you use it for a Romance, it becomes a literary Romance. Romances follow one story line. There can be a subplot where the main lovers' best friends also fall for one another. That is not the same thing as two full plots. A murder Mystery follows one sleuth solving crimes. Switching between sleuths and timelines may not be pleasing to your ordinary mystery lover. In a recent television series Bodies, there were four sleuths and four cases and four timelines. I love Mysteries. They make up forty percent of my story consumption. However, it was not my cup of English Breakfast tea. It had mixed reviews. Dual plots can work in Historical, Thriller and Suspense, Fantasy, Literary Dramas, perhaps even con, heist, and prison break.

7. Are you depriving the reader of full engagement?

The goal of any story should be full immersion. The plot should be fully-formed and the tension gas pedal applied expertly to control the speed of the narrative. Are other layers simply an annoying distraction? Can you make multiple threads work together in a way that keeps the reader eager to turn the page? If you don't know how or assume the reader will forgive you for shorting them of the full-immersion experience, then reconsider.

I would not suggest this method for a first-time author. Build your skills first. I’m not saying it can’t be done, or even done well. Some examples of parallel plots are:

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

Holes by Louis Sachar

Blueberries for Sal by Robert McCloskey

The Lady of Wild Beasts by Debra Spark

The Sex Club by L. J. Sellers

Day of Atonement by A. Alvarez

Sarah’s Key by Tatiana de Rosnay

Stephen King's The Stand is a complex layering of plot threads. Even the master of horror struggled with it because of the large number of characters and storylines.

George R. R. Martin's Game of Thrones followed three separate but simultaneous storylines. Some readers gave up because of what I call cast bloat. If a reader has to start taking notes, they often give up.

As you can see, they are very different books. Some were more successful than others. 

Plot bifurcation has inherent structural weaknesses. If you choose to build your story on this skeleton, be prepared for the writing equivalent of a biathlon. Each plot must have solid structure, a full cast, and tension that builds. It is essentially writing two novels. You don't have to outline it if you are allergic to the process. You will need to do a detailed dissection of your story scene by scene and chapter by chapter after the first draft.

It is critical that you have other people read it before submitting it or self-publishing it. The details in your head may not make it onto the page. It can be easy to lose your audience. They don't know the story in your head. What makes sense to you might confuse the reader and that results in bad reviews.

As always if you find this information helpful, share it, like it. If you want more free information, sign up to follow the blog on blogger or the Story Building Blocks Facebook page. Free tips and tools are also available on my site https://dianahurwitz.com/.

Creating Conflict With Backstory

We have learned how to avoid backstory plot holes and discussed how to use backstory as plot devices. This week, we look at how to use backstory to create conflict.

1. It is tempting to cheat by inserting letters, news articles, and pages from a book or diary to impart information. There may be instances where it works, but rarely. These shortcuts are generally boring in nature. Even worse, they are often placed in italics. If you insist on this, keep it short and simple. Pages of italics strain the eyes.

Backstory in the form of letters or journal entries tests a reader's patience. They draw the reader out of real time. A few readers adore them. Most don't. I scan read them. If they are too long, I skip over them. They rarely contain conflict and are a lazy way of delivering information.

If the contents can be summarized quickly through internal dialogue or dialogue, do that instead. We don't need to see a long news article about a body being found. Dick can read the article and comment on it to Sally, offering her the juicy parts. Most of us do this when we read something to someone across the kitchen table or office desk. We don't read the whole article. We react emotionally to the contents. We skip over the blah, blah, blah parts and read the good stuff.

"Reading Mom's diary is so surreal. I had no idea she was such a free spirit, a freethinker, and a party girl."

Jane reached for the book. "When did that change? She was so prim and proper." 

Sally dodged her and kept reading. "Oh my lord, she slept with Phyllis's husband before they got married."

Jane attempted to grab the journal a second time. "Are you certain that's what she meant?"

Sally turned the page. "Last night was so romantic. We walked to the back of the garden and stood under the weeping willow, my favorite hiding spot. We kissed. He slowly undressed me. The night air was cold, but his skin was so warm."

"She never! That can't be our mom, can it?"

This type of delivery keeps the reader in real time and in the presence of characters they care about.

2. Short snippets of backstory can be revealed through inner dialogue and thoughts. What a character thinks reveals character. A conversation or situation can bring back pleasant or unhappy memories. Memories can differ. This is part of interiority. Dick can think:

Sally thinks she knows everything. Even when we were in kindergarten, she thought she knew everything. No one in this town ever changes.

This reveals that he has a history with the town, he has known Sally since kindergarten, and he isn't too pleased with her. In this example, he keeps the negative opinion to himself. The same information could be related as dialogue.

In the next example, Dick shares the same information and antagonizes Sally in the process.

"You thought you knew everything back in kindergarten, too. Nothing ever changes in this town."

3. Short summary can propel the story. Jane might drive past her old house, the one she shared with her ex-husband, and think:

I pulled up to the curb and left the engine idling. God, I missed the cottage. I loved the symmetry of it, the gables, and the white picket fence. I loved the rosebushes and the neighborhood cat that used to sun itself on the steps. I should have been sitting on the front porch swing, drinking tea, and reading a good book instead of driving past it like a lovesick teenager. It wasn't the affair or the divorce that gutted me. Dick wasn't worth a single tear. It was knowing that he had taken the cottage from me out of spite and moved in that lanky-skank ho. Killing him wouldn't make a difference. It would still belong to her. I'd have to figure out a way to drive them out.

This reveals that Jane used to live in the house, her aesthetic preferences, she likes tea and reading books, and she loved the house more than her ex. It gives us the story goal. You could have spent pages telling us about Jane's past and setting up her motivation. Instead, it was summarized in a few short, bittersweet sentences.

4. Backstory can be revealed though dialogue. Avoid horrible "As you know, Sally" information dumps. Make sure your characters would utter the words in a real conversation.

"As you know, Sally, our great-grandpa started this tea business in 1893 when he came over from old England. He built the place from the ground up."

 Of course Sally knows. It's her grandfather. Let's slip this in with a little character conflict.

Dick ran a hand over the smooth wooden chest, tracing the Sinclair name and the year 1793. "I wish grandpa Mac had lived to see this."

Sally didn't look up from her phone. "He'd be 200 years old."

"Not the point." Dick lifted the lid, inhaling the sweet smell of peppermint. "He left England with a small tin of tea and a dream and look at us: international distribution, thirty varieties, new hybrids."

"And disgruntled employees, greedy investors, irrational vendors."

"Forget it. Let me buy you out. You'll never love the place the way I do."

"I'll never love anything the way you do. You're obsessed. You should leave this cave occasionally. Go on date. Get laid."

"Get stuffed."

Sally slipped her phone into her pocket. "Every chance I get. I'm hungry. Let's do lunch before I pass out."

"I'm serious. I want to buy you out."

"I'll think about it on a full stomach."

A character's hot buttons, prejudices, and conceits can rear their ugly heads during heated conversations. Backstory is best revealed through a verbal sparring match, not a lazy trot down memory lane. You add conflict when the characters block what needs to be said, reveal painful secrets, point out a person's flaws, or expose old wounds along the way.

5. Differing memories can cause conflict. Memory is fallible. If you ask three children about their formative years, each has a different rendition based on how they perceived their experience. 

"You were always their favorite," Dick said.

Sally snorted. "Me? You were the golden boy, the heir. I was the spare and an afterthought."

"They let you get away with murder. I had to be perfect. I had all the pressure of their expectations. You were free to do whatever you wanted."

"You got all the attention. They didn't know I existed. I could have paraded around the mansion naked and they wouldn't have noticed."

"Oh, they noticed. They had massive arguments about you."

"On how to get rid of me."

Dick looked at the side by side caskets. "I guess it sucked for both of us."

"Now we can't even confront them over it." Sally walked away from the grave site.

Dick followed. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"

Sally opened her car door. "That's what we are, strangers. Maybe we should officially meet some day."

Masterful use of backstory elevates you from beginner to master craftsman.

As always if you find this information helpful, share it, like it. If you want more free information, sign up to follow the blog on blogger or the Story Building Blocks Facebook Page. Free tips and tools are also available on my site https://dianahurwitz.com/.

Backstory As Plot Devices

Last time, we discussed how to avoid backstory plot holes. This week, we offer ideas for using backstory as plot devices.

1. You can reveal your protagonist's critical flaw by explaining something that happened in the past. The critical flaw is revealed near the beginning to explain why Dick is drawn into the story problem and trips him up along the way. The flaw, his kryptonite, can stem from a traumatic episode from the past.

2. The secret weapon is revealed early on to explain why Dick, and only Dick, can solve the overall story problem. It can be a talent, strength of character, belief, or an actual object. You can show him using his secret weapon, or refusing to use it, in the past before he is called upon to use it in the present.

3. Whatever skills or failings Dick has, don't whip them out at the last minute by saying, "Oh, yeah, back in school I used to (fill in the blank)." That is backfilling and it is a no-no.

4. Backstory can raise questions rather than answer them. You can show Dick doing or saying something in the past, but not explain why until later. Mystery keeps the reader invested.

5. Backstory can be revealed in layers, like peeling an onion. Each reveal adds a slightly different twist to the reader's understanding of what happened. Write the backstory then select the bits you want to reveal and order them in the most effective sequence. Slip them in when needed.

6. If Dick did something in the past, he can repeat the action or find himself in the same dilemma in the present day, only there is an obstacle this time. His old method no longer works. He knows better now and this time it's uncomfortable. Perhaps he has the skills or experience to do things differently.

7. Backstory can create conflict for Dick by presenting him with difficult choices. In the past, the decision might have been easy. The current situation, or new knowledge, makes the same choice more difficult. Maybe he used to easily run toward danger, but he has new responsibilities and has to seriously consider the wisdom of his past actions.

8. Backstory can reveal change. If Dick is afraid of spiders because he was bitten by one as a child, he may have to take on the giant spiders that invaded Earth at the climax. If Dick was a coward in the past, he can be brave in the present. If Dick denied his feelings in the past, he can embrace them in the present.

Stay tuned for our wrap-up on how to use backstory effectively.

As always if you find this information helpful, share it, like it. If you want more free information, sign up to follow the blog on blogger or the Story Building Blocks Facebook Page. Free tips and tools are also available on my site https://dianahurwitz.com/.

Backstory Basics

Backstory, when used properly, enriches a plot. Used poorly, backstory creates a plot hole your reader is forced to skip over or sludge through. Most readers skip the boring bits.

The problem with backstory is often two-fold: too much too soon or way too much information at once.

Backstory can be related through dialogue, flashback, internal dialogue, thoughts, and narrative. Over the next few posts, we'll explore the finer points of using backstory with mastery.

1. Don't begin your novel with backstory. Invest your readers in the current situation before trying to explain the character's history. Otherwise, why should they care?

If the action has already passed, we know the characters lived to tell about it. It may have bearing on the plot, but the characters survived and have moved onto what is happening now. The reader may feel there is no need to read a long passage detailing what happened in the past if the characters are clearly functioning in the present.

2. Backstory is best presented in short bursts not long-winded information dumps. The delicate balancing act is giving the reader enough backstory to help explain the current situation, but not so much that she is derailed from the forward momentum of the story.

3. If you feel a section of backstory requires a full scene with its own beginning, middle, and end, it should contain tension and a scene goal. A chapter or two of backstory loses the reader. She pages forward until she gets to the part that matters. That is not the kind of page turning to aim for.

4. Bits of backstory can be related through narrative, but keep it short and simple. Transition in and out and don't offset it. A paragraph or two should suffice. Resist the urge to insert large sections of italicized words. You should be able to transition into and out of backstory without resorting to special fonts or italics.

5. Backstory is not the same as weaving separate story threads together. A subplot set in the past has its own story arc and every scene should contain conflict. You should order the past versus present scenes in a way that has the most impact. Badly braided scenes can ruin an otherwise riveting tale.

6. Backstory should not cram in the character's past all at once. People don't tell each other everything about themselves and their lives the first time they meet. If they do, their psychological boundaries are fuzzy. They make people nervous by offering too much information. You don't need to tell your readers everything up front either. If you do, your structure is fuzzy. Once the reader has formed a relationship with your character, their past has more resonance.

7. Backstory works well in internal conflict scenes when your protagonist struggles with his personal dilemma which can be rooted in his past. It could be the partner he didn't save, the girl he didn't get, or the friend he failed. The backstory makes the current situation more poignant and should be relevant to the overall story. Resist the urge for a long memory scene. It is more powerful if the character is remembering while doing something to progress the current plot.

8. Backstory must, above all, be relevant. Don't spend paragraphs telling us about Dick's botany hobby unless he uses botany to solve the overall story problem. It bores your readers. They don't need to know about every Civil War battle, every lover the protagonist ever had, or the life stories of everyone who sank with the Titanic. Backstory that has no relationship to the current story is irritating. Readers flip past it or skim read it. If it happens often enough, they put the book down and walk away.

Stay tuned for more discussion on how to layer backstory to create conflict.

As always if you find this information helpful, share it, like it. If you want more free information, sign up to follow the blog on blogger or the Story Building Blocks Facebook Page. Free tips and tools are also available on my site https://dianahurwitz.com/.

Recognizing Narrator Intrusion

The biggest problem with any point of view, other than omniscient, is narrator or narrative intrusion. The author interrupts the story to deliver his commentary, thoughts, opinions, or information. They create speed bumps that disrupt the reader's total immersion in the story. This is especially a problem when you use first person and third person close up.

Let's learn how to search for it.

1. Ideally, comments, thoughts, opinions, and information should be filtered through the characters, not the writer.

Omniscient narrators are able to be in everyone’s head at all times. You lose a certain number of readers with this method. But the omniscient verbal camera can go anywhere and take in anything. 

With other points of view, narrator intrusion removes the verbal camera from the shoulder or the eyes of the viewpoint character to take in action on the stage the character isn’t aware of. The speed bumps can be low or high depending on the severity of the intrusion.

Example: What Nora didn't see was the shadowy figure hiding in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to grab her.

Example: Meanwhile, on the opposite shore, the enemy troops boarded a ship to sail to America.

2. Key intrusion words to look for include: as before, after, behind, believed, considered, debated, discovered, during, felt, figured, hated, inside, knew, liked, loved, noticed, realized, pondered, remembered, sensed, since, smelled, tasted, thought, wanted to, when, while, wished, understood, until, used to.

3. Showing versus telling is not necessarily the same as narrator intrusion. An example of intrusion would be:

Dick Malone, a dark, handsome, intelligent man stared through the window of his fortieth-floor penthouse at the brooding LA skyline.

This sentence is simply awful, but you get the point. Yes, I just intruded with an opinion. If you write in omniscient, this is perfectly acceptable. In all other cases, it isn’t.

Even in third person, a character does not think to himself:

I’m a handsome, intelligent, man standing in my fortieth-floor penthouse. My décor is ultra-modern and shows I have expensive taste.

To fix the intrusion, the writer can show the character entering his building or getting off at the fortieth floor. The character places his keys in a ceramic bowl on a glass and steel hall table or hangs them on an ornate message board above it. The character walks into the living room, across the deep pile carpet, and places his jacket on the back of a white leather sofa. He can look at himself in the mirror (overused but effective) or catch a glimpse of himself in the glass as he stares at the brooding LA skyline.

He could notice a photo of himself and his wife. He can think about the way they used to be, so young, so good looking, so idealistic. He can wonder if she still finds him as attractive as he finds her. He can miss her presence in his swank apartment, one they chose together but he now occupies alone. In this way, you show the reader his world rather than tell them about it. This would be strongest in first person or third person close up, relating it through the character's lens. How does he feel about the space? What irritates or soothes him? Is coming home a good thing or a bad thing?

The door closed behind me with its familiar whoosh. I tossed my keys onto the slick glass table. As they slid onto the white marble tile floor, I resolved to find a coconut shaped ash tray like the one I stole from a hotel in the Bahamas. It had comfortably held my keys for years before I met Sally. I could take a sledgehammer to the table, pity she wouldn't be around to see it. I could replace the white leather furniture with soft suede lounge chairs with cupholders. For the first time in five years, I could do anything I wanted. I flung my coat across the metal back of the dining room chair and used the remote to lift the automatic blinds from the panoramic windows. They were useful and could stay. I slipped off my tie and rolled up my sleeves. The fancy, useless rugs, monochromatic vases that didn't hold flowers, and artfully arranged books she never read, could go to Goodwill. They'd make some poor schmuck's day. I popped a frozen burrito in the microwave, no plate, and popped the top off a Corona. I needed boxes and some paint, yeah, brown and beige to relieve the endless white. She left, but it was time for me to erase her.

4. Another example is when a writer inserts statements for suspense:

Sally didn’t know that Dick had other plans for her and that his plans would change her life forever.

Little did Dick know that Spot, so peacefully curled up at the end of his bed, would attack him in the middle of the night. If he had known what the dog was capable of, he might have put Spot in his crate.

These are extreme examples, but you get the point. Who is giving us this information? It isn’t Dick or Sally. Some writers do this on purpose, to say, “Wait for it: a tense situation is coming.” It does the opposite. The author just told us there is going to be an attack in the middle of the night, removing the suspense factor.

The author could have shown Dick snuggling up with dear Spot, holding the dog close, feeling all warm and safe. Then Spot growls and wriggles away from Dick. The dog’s fur stands on end. Cut scene. Next chapter. The reader keeps turning pages to find out what upset the dog. That is well-crafted suspense.

5. In third person limited point of view and first person, a writer often tells the reader things the point of view character couldn’t possibly know.

Jane sat in the café, sipping a cooling mocha latte, lost in thought, a book open on the table. The man in the booth behind her stared and wondered why someone so good looking was so sad.

Unless Jane has eyes in the back of her head, she isn’t aware that she is being watched. Unless she reads minds, she won’t know what the man behind her is thinking. The verbal camera panned away from Jane and followed the man in the booth. This is either head-hopping or author intrusion, depending on the point of view.

Another example would be:

Sally perched on the edge of a park bench. She closed her eyes, wiping the sweat from her brow. When did it get so hot? A man sat down on the grass, not close enough to be obvious, but near enough to catch her if she decided to run.

Sounds suspenseful, right? However, Sally’s eyes are closed. She can’t see the man sitting on the grass. She doesn’t know why he is sitting on the grass, or that he intends to grab her if she leaves the bench. The author thinks he is setting up suspense, but he is shifting point of view or intruding.

The scene can be fixed by simply having Sally open her eyes, see the guy sitting on the grass. She can decide he is a problem and calculate whether she could run before he could grab her. This keeps us in her head and sets the tension. Will she go for it? Will she make it?

6. Writing in first person POV, a passage might read:

I bent over to pick up the note that fell from the boy’s backpack. The paper was crumpled, from the kind of yellow legal pad a businessman would use. I unfolded it and examined the crabbed handwriting. A red stain colored my cheeks as the profane words registered. What kind of boy would write such a thing?

This is very subtle intrusion. Why? Because the character can’t see her own face, so how would she know it was red? She could feel her face flush. The reader knows that a flushed face looks red. You don’t have to explain it. These mistakes are hard to catch. A good critique partner, beta-reader, or editor helps you find them.

7. Another example is when the author gives the reader the reason for someone else’s behavior:

Jane lifted the hotel receipt from the table. She held it up so Dick could get a good look at it. “And you were at the Savoy last week for what reason?” Dick turned away to hide his panic and formulate an excuse.

If the piece is written in omniscient point of view, this passage works. Otherwise, it doesn’t. Jane can see Dick turn away. She might guess why, but she wouldn’t think to herself: Dick turned away to hide his panic and formulate an excuse.

Jane could see him turn away. She can surmise that he is hiding something and press Dick for an answer. Dick’s lack of response tells her he is formulating a lie.

When he comes out with, “It was a business meeting,” Jane assumes it is a lie.

Jane can then call him on it by saying something like: “An overnight meeting?”

Dick justifies it with: “No, but it ran late and I was tired, so I got a room.”

Jane could top it off with: “You paid for a room instead of a cab? We only live five blocks away.”

Lie exposed and you have tense dialogue with a great zinger at the end. The fight is on.

8. Another problem is describing details a character would never notice.

Dick is standing at the coffee machine in the break room and Jane walks in with designer shoes and a dress that hugs her curves. Unless he is really into fashion or works in the fashion industry, he won’t know the dress is Dior and the shoes are Manolo Blahnik. A lot of female readers, me included, won’t know what the heck Dior or Manolos look like either. It is best to describe the dress and the response it creates within Dick (he is turned on by stiletto heels), than to toss in labels a reader wouldn’t recognize.

A reader forgives a few of these. If the book is riddled with them, and he feels the need to Google, you may lose him forever to social media.

You can use the shorthand references for inspiration, but you need to describe it. You can say:

Jane had on a tight, knee-length dress and uncomfortable-looking heels.

This statement reveals character more than blatant references. If a man observing a woman thinks her dress is too tight and her shoes interfere with her ability to walk, it tells you he is either sizing her up as a potential victim who can’t outrun him, or deciding that she would make a very high-maintenance girlfriend. He might like women who dress like runway models or prefer a girl who wears cargo shorts and sneakers. The way he describes Jane’s outfit tells us a lot about the way he views women.

9. Inserting descriptive shorthand for people, places, and things can be intrusive.

The author might know all about fashion or might throw designer names in to impress or to define character. It can have the opposite effect if the reader is frustrated by not grasping the reference. When a writer inserts cultural, geographical, designer, celebrity, and product references, she assumes her readers are familiar with them. When the references are lost on the reader, he flips the page. He might waste time Googling the reference. In order to Google, he must put the book down or switch screens. This is not the kind of page turning to aim for.

Writers are frequently cautioned to show not tell, though there are times when the character has to tell. It is a fine, hotly debated line and one most writers struggle with. Don’t tell us someone is sad, show us. Don’t tell us someone is angry, show us. The advice makes many writers throw darts at their manuscript. It is still good advice.

Intrusion is difficult to avoid. Stringent editing can fix it. Read through each scene. If possible, have other people read through each scene to look for intrusions. Pull back and look at what you’ve written with a jaundiced eye. Ask yourself if you’ve put anything there that the POV character couldn’t see, hear, feel, smell, taste, touch, notice, know, or do. When you’ve identified the intrusion, it is fairly easy to repair it. Rephrase it in a way the POV character would say it or do it, or change the scene’s choreography to show instead of tell.

As always if you find this information helpful, share it, like it. If you want more free information, sign up to follow the blog on blogspot or the Story Building Blocks Facebook Page. Free tips and tools are also available on my site https://dianahurwitz.com/ .

Who Is Telling Your Story?

There are several methods for relating your story through point of view.

The verbal camera location depends on the method you choose. Each method has strengths and weaknesses. You can alternate point of view from person to person by changing the POV with each chapter or scene. Don't switch POV characters from sentence to sentence or paragraph to paragraph to avoid “head hopping.”

In most genre fiction, a protagonist viewpoint is preferred, either protagonist only or protagonist as main viewpoint. The antagonist, love interest, friends, and foes may also chime in depending on the needs of your story. You can have an unbiased narrator or the cold eye of an unmanned camera.

Stories have been narrated by friends or observers. Stories are rarely told by the antagonist, but it has been done. Sometimes the protagonist proves to be the antagonist.

Sometimes POV methods are intentionally mixed, but you must carefully edit for random, unintentional shifts. A single method is easiest to follow. There have been stories where the protagonist is written in first person and other characters are written in objective or close third.

There are many opinions about which point of view you should use. Omniscient is the most distancing and first person is the most intimate. You should use whatever works for the story you wish to tell.

First Person: The reader experiences the story through the character’s lens. The verbal camera records from inside the character's mind. The reader is limited by what the protagonist can see, hear, overhear, and  know about. The story is influenced by their outlook on things. You are privy to their intimate thoughts. They have to be in every single scene. It uses I, me, and mine. The reader in essence becomes the character.

First Person Subjective: The point of view character is the narrator of the story but rather than relating his experience, he gives his version of someone else’s story. This is told in first person using I, me, and mine. The story is told through his filter and can limit the suspense potential. The verbal camera records through this observer’s eyes. It is limited to what he can see, hear, etc. You cannot explore anyone else’s thoughts unless they voice them. This can be used if you want an unreliable narrator or to mislead the audience.

Modified Objective: This viewpoint character might not know what the other characters are thinking, but will put their own spin on it. This is told in third person using he, she, and they. The point of view character interprets what is happening through the filter of his beliefs and feelings. However, it can be hard to summon the requisite sympathy for the protagonist if the story is told from someone else’s viewpoint.

Second Person: With this viewpoint, the reader becomes the POV character and is referred to as "you." The narrator describes 'you" seeing, hearing, acting, etc. It is often told in present tense. This method is rarely used. It is quirky and can be a turn off. It doesn't work in all genres.

Objective Third Person: The story is told from the viewpoint of a portable verbal camera. It records whatever it sees and hears. Thoughts and feelings are related through actions and dialogue instead of internal narrative and dialogue. It uses he, she, and they. This method allows you to follow different characters and record their interactions. The advantage is you can let the reader in on information the protagonist could not know. This works well in stories where the reader is allowed to see what the antagonist, friends, and foes are up to.

Third Person Close Up: allows you to enter a character’s mind and films like first person, except you use he, she, and they. This is useful when you have multiple point of view characters, but the verbal camera remains tight on each character as they relate their part of the story.

Limited Third Person: is a bridge between third person and omniscient. The camera is off to the side. It picks up what it can see, hear, and experience. It can stand aside as an observer, taking in other people's body language, emotional reactions, interactions, etc. It is not always reliable. In limited third, a writer often inserts something the character misses, You can comment on an expression or behavior going on in the room where the POV character isn't looking. This can sometimes turn into blatant author intrusion. You have to tread the line carefully.

Omniscient: An omniscient narrator knows all, sees all, and reads every mind at any given time. This is done with he, she, and they. The omniscient narrator can offer commentary and opinions and supply information. He never becomes one of the characters. The characters are not aware of the narrator. He is merely there to tell the tale. This method was used in literature from previous centuries. The verbal camera pans the scenes from afar. There are few limitations as to where it can zoom and what it can record. It can distance the reader from the character. Sometimes with this method, the writer “tells” the reader a story, much like reading a book to someone. The challenge is in shifting the vantage point of the verbal camera. The shifts should not be random and should be easy to follow. It can notoriously result in “head hopping.” The other danger with this method is consistency, meaning you stay in this point of view and not veer off into first person or third person close up.

In addition to type of POV, you need to decide how many point of view characters you need. The more often you switch from one narrator to the next, the more you risk diluting the reader's emotional connection to the story. 

Shifting between different character POVs allows the reader to know things the protagonist doesn't. This can add to the suspense level.  Deciding when and how to shift is a skill worth learning.  POVs can be mixed. The protagonist has been written in first person while the other characters are written in third person close up. It requires strict editing.

In the Poisonwood Bible, Barbara Kingsolver cycles through five first person POV characters: Orleanna Price and her four daughters Rachel, Leah, Adah, and Ruth May. It is one of the few stories with that many POVs in one book that I consider successful.

Switching characters does not work in all instances. One of my favorite cozy mystery series written by Ann Purser follows Lois Meade as she meddles in cases while cleaning houses. The author detoured in one book to follow the secondary characters. It was irritating rather than pleasing to find Lois relegated to the dust bin for an entire book.

Shifting the point of view in a series can keep it fresh. Tana French does so successfully in her gripping Dublin Murder Squad mysteries set in Ireland by following a different investigator in each book. In The Woods is narrated by Rob Ryan. The Likeness is narrated by Cassie Maddox and so on. I did something similar in Mythikas Island. Each book in the series is narrated in first person by a different character. In Book 1 it is Diana, Book 2 Persephone, Book 3 Aphrodite, and Book 4 Athena.

If you switch point of view within a series or from chapter to chapter, make sure it adds rather than detracts from the tension.

Breaking the fourth wall is a character intentionally speaking to the reader and was used in 18th and 19th century novels and in some modern Sit-Coms. It works best with comedy and satire.

The biggest problem with any point of view, other than omniscient, is narrator or narrative intrusion, which is when the author interrupts the story to deliver commentary, thoughts, opinions, or information dumps. This can be highly annoying. Omniscient narrators are able to be in everyone’s head at all times. With other POVs, narrator intrusion creates subtle speed bumps in the story’s flow. It removes the verbal camera from the shoulder or the eyes of the POV character to take in action on the stage the POV character isn’t aware of. The speed bumps can be low or high depending on the severity of the intrusion.

We will examine narrator intrusion in depth next week.

Crafting the Ending

At the conclusion of your exciting tale, most readers are rooting for a happy ever after ending. They want the bad guy punished, the good guy rewarded, and the lovers to be in love.

Sometimes a tidy ending just isn’t where the story should go. Should you change it to conform or end it the way you feel deep in your gut it should end? Some genres have specific expectations. A Romance should end happily. A Mystery should be solved. Beyond that, the resolution of your story can be a little more creative.

Every story has a central question. Will the protagonist succeed in his overall story goal? There are multiple answers.

1) Yes. Dick succeeds and there is no gray area or hanging questions. The plot is tied up in a neat little bow. He feels good about it. This is an up ending. Readers love up endings.

2) No. Dick fails and feels bad about it. He fought tirelessly, but in the end just couldn’t win. This is a down ending. Readers hate down endings.

3) Yes, but. Dick succeeds at one thing but fails at another. He succeeds but there are ramifications of his success that carry on into the future. He succeeds but at a terrible cost he didn’t calculate. This is a form of up-down ending.

4) No, and further more.  Dick not only fails, but he is further punished or must try again in a sequel. Dick may have been going for the wrong goal and not only does he realize he is wrong, he  must take on a new challenge to make it right.  Dick fails at his goal, and we realize he was the bad guy all along.

5) Yes and No. Dick thinks he has succeeded or failed in his goal but there is a twist ending and he finds the opposite is true.  He can kill monster A only to find out the real monster is B. Dick may win the battle but cause a major war. Dick may succeed but hurt everyone affected.  Dick succeeds at his goal but during the final credit roll, he gets nailed by an oncoming bus. This is another type of up-down ending.

6) Maybe Yes/Maybe No. The ending is left ambiguous. It is never made clear what really happened or how the story ends. The reader is left hanging. They may want to hang you. It is a risky artistic choice.

Whichever ending you choose, your story architecture must support it. The ending must grow organically from the actions and decisions leading up to it. You don’t have to make everyone happy. You just have to leave everyone satisfied.

As always, if you find this information useful, please like and share. 

The four layer method is laid out in Story Building Blocks: The Four Layers of Conflict, available in paperback and e-book if you wish to have a copy with all of the information. The theory information is also available on https://dianahurwitz.com/theory.html.

Dressing Up The Skeleton with Subgenres

What if we decided the meteor story worked better as a Romance? We continue with Dick, love interest Sally, and friend/foe Jane and Ted and the meteor and try on different subgenres.

If we select the Romance skeleton, the focus is on Dick meeting, possessing, or losing the object of his affection: Sally. The meteor, Jane, and Ted present antagonistic and interpersonal obstacles to this goal. There are different ways to dress up a romance.

1. You can add the Contemporary Romance jacket. This is defined by the time period. The obstacles to their love occur post World War II to modern day. It is often combined with or related to the term “women’s fiction.”  Most romances are told from the female’s POV, but doesn’t have to be in certain subgenres. Ted wants Sally, or Jane wants Sally. Jealousy and rivalry keep Dick from achieving his goal. The impending meteor strike adds an element of anxiety. At the final turning point, Dick saves the day and wins Sally's heart forever. Or, Sally and/or Jane saves the day if you want to add a feminist touch.

2. If you add the Historical Romance mantle, it means that the obstacles to love occurred prior to World War II and may feature elements of mystery or “damsel in distress.” In this instance, Sally is directly threatened by Jane or Ted while the impending meteor strike provides atmosphere and heightens emotion. We learn a bit about the history of astronomy along the way, but not too much. In the end Sally and Dick live happily ever after.

3. If you choose the Romantic Suspense trench coat, the meteor strike is a Thriller and Suspense subplot. The setting could be contemporary or historical. The couple’s relationship is tested by the race to save the planet. Will they live to love or will the meteor obliterate them? Ted is foiled. Jane is mollified. Dick and Sally live happily ever after.

4. If you select the Paranormal Romance cloak, one or all of your characters could be vampires, werewolves, ghosts, zombies, or witches. The focus is on the romance and the paranormal elements as they attempt to thwart the meteor strike. The different species may have different agendas. In the end, Dick and Sally wind up together, the normal world is saved, and they are happy about it. Except for perhaps Ted. Or Jane. Or Ted and Jane.

5. If you prefer the Science Fiction Romance jumpsuit, the setting becomes the future, perhaps on a remote lunar outpost. A rocket may circumvent the tragedy, taking out the antagonistic Ted along with the meteor, leaving Dick and Sally to love uninterrupted in their space capsule as Jane waves forlornly from the control room.

6. If you adopt the Romantic Fantasy cape, your story will feature dragons, wizards, or fairies working to repel the meteor heading for them, preferably with magic. Perhaps the near miss with the meteor was foretold in a prophecy naming Dick The Chosen One, which tests his relationship to Sally. Dick and Sally hold onto their love in the face of fantastic odds.

7. If you assume the Time Travel uniform, some - or all - of the cast must travel through time to solve the meteor strike problem. Perhaps Dick travels to the past, leaving poor Sally in the present. Will their relationship survive the distance? If Dick changes something in the past, will Sally still be in the present anxiously awaiting his return? Or will he return to find her happily (or unhappily) paired with Ted? Perhaps Jane sees her chance with Dick now that Sally is out of the way. But in the end, Dick and Sally are reunited and it feels so good.

8. If you don the Erotic Romance sheet, you’ll need to add steamy sex scenes in specific chapters. The impending meteor and Ted and Jane's interference fuel the fire. As long as they fog up the windows while fighting for their lives, you're good to go. In the end, the meteor misses and Dick and Sally wind up in bed, thankful to have dodged the celestial bullet. Ted and Jane may end up in bed together as well, even though they pretend to hate each other.

Whatever costume you choose, your romance should satisfy the reader by answering the question: “Will they or won’t they?” The answer should be, “Yes.” If your reader is titillated and satiated by the story’s end, they will love you for it.

The four layers method is versatile enough to work with any genre, subgenre, and mixed genres. Breaking the story down into the types of conflict keeps the reader turning pages. A conflict can be as small as trying to get a cup of coffee and being interrupted and diverted along the way to Starbucks or as massive as a space opera with cowboys fighting aliens.

As always, if you find this information useful, please like and share. 

The four layer method is laid out in Story Building Blocks: The Four Layers of Conflict, available in paperback and e-book if you wish to have a copy with all of the information. The theory information is also available on https://dianahurwitz.com/

Stacking The Layers

We have developed our scenes. Now let's look at the best way to arrange them. We began with the premise for a story involving a meteor streaking toward earth, a conflicted scientist, his crumbling marriage, and a coworker who makes his life miserable.  We decided to make the story about Dick, love interest Sally, bossy Jane, jealous Ted, and the meteor streaking toward earth. We have selected the Disaster Thriller format and created at least ten ideas for each layer of conflict. The next step is to decide which order works best for each scene.

We have come up with ten basic ideas for all four layers of conflict. You may find you need to add more scenes to fill in the gaps in the story. You may change your mind about elements of the plot. The point is to have a series of prompts that keeps you working through your rough draft. You can tweak and enrich the draft during the revision layers. Things will come to you as you write that you didn’t think of before. Your characters will come alive and may change the trajectory of your story. That’s expected. What’s important is to avoid getting stuck in the muddy middle.

Let’s layer the scene ideas we've developed in the most logical order.

INCITING EVENT

Internal Conflict 1: Dick and Sally make plans to go on a long-awaited vacation. He gets a call.

External Conflict 1: Dick learns a meteor will strike.

Antagonist Conflict 1: Ted learns there is a meteor headed toward earth. Finally, the world can be destroyed and he doesn’t have to lift a finger. All he has to do is sit back and watch the show.

Interpersonal Conflict 1: Jane meets with Ted to declare her feelings before it is too late. He manipulates her into helping him without telling her the real reason.

Internal Conflict 2: Dick informs Sally that he isn’t retiring after all. He can’t tell her why.

Antagonist Conflict 2: Dick has come up with a plan. Ted vows to make sure it doesn’t work.

Interpersonal Conflict 2: Jane meets with Dick and gives him erroneous data.

External Conflict 2: Dick thinks of a way to stop the meteor while it is still far away. He will nudge it with a satellite.

Interpersonal Conflict 3: General Smith argues that his satellite is too important to be used to adjust the meteor’s trajectory. It could cause more harm than good. They should blow up the meteor.

Internal Conflict 3: Dick and Sally fight about the vacation. Looks like we have to cancel it.

Antagonist Conflict 3: Ted is denied access to the equipment. He has something on one of the ground crew, Bob, and uses that pressure to convince him to tamper with the equipment.  Bob objects, "But we’ll all die.”  Ted threatens, "Do you want to die now or later?"

Interpersonal Conflict 4: Bob tries to tinker with the satellite, but almost gets caught by Jane.

Antagonist Conflict 4: Ted confronts Dick. "Why are you trying to stop the inevitable?"

Interpersonal Conflict 5: General Smith relents and allows the satellite to be used.

External Conflict 3: The satellite crashes into the meteor, but doesn’t change the trajectory.

TURNING POINT ONE

Internal Conflict 4: Sally gives Dick an ultimatum: "I’m tired of waiting. It’s me or the job." Dick replies, "If I don’t do this there won’t be any me or you." Sally asks, “What do you mean?” To which Dick replies, “I can’t tell you.”

External Conflict 4: Dick comes up with plan to divert the meteor with a laser beam.

Antagonist Conflict 5: Dick has come up with a new plan. So Ted must get Bob to tamper with the laser beam.

External Conflict 5: They can’t get the beam close enough from the ground.

Antagonist Conflict 6: Ted calls Sally and tells her Dick and Jane are having an affair.

Internal Conflict 5: Sally accuses Dick of having an affair with Jane at work. Dick is called away.

Interpersonal Conflict 6: Captain Curtis balks at sending the laser to the space station.

External Conflict 6: They send the laser to the space station. The equipment breaks off and is lost in space.

TURNING POINT TWO

Internal Conflict 6: Dick finds Sally packing her bags. Dick says, "Don’t leave. I love you. I’ve always loved you."

She replies, "Then why are you ruining things?" Should he tell? Is it better for her to know or not know that their days are numbered?

Antagonist Conflict 7: Dick confronts Ted. "You had something to do with this." Ted replies, "You’ll never prove it and in a few days it won’t matter anyway."

External Conflict 7: They are back to the drawing board - all seems lost. They enter countdown mode.

Internal Conflict 7: Sally tells Dick that she received a call from Ted and that he said there was no reason for Dick to stay at work. That he is lying to her.

External Conflict 8: Dick comes up with a final plan. It is do or die. They will nuke the meteor.

Antagonist Conflict 8: Ted must find a way to make certain the shuttle doesn’t take off.

Interpersonal Conflict 7: Captain Curtis appeals to his crew. Is anyone willing to go? Captain Curtis decides to go himself.

Internal Conflict 8: Dick tells Sally the truth.

CLIMAX

External Conflict 9: They rev up the shuttle loaded with a lethal payload to intercept the meteor and, despite last minute glitches, the shuttle takes off on a suicide mission.

Antagonist Conflict 9: Ted’s attempts to prevent take off fail.

Interpersonal Conflict 8: Ted and Jane have a show down. Jane can’t believe Ted is so evil.

Internal Conflict 9: Dick and Sally spend the evening together knowing it may be their last.

Interpersonal Conflict 9: Bob rats on Ted.

Interpersonal Conflict 10: Jane and Bob celebrate when the shuttle succeeds.

Antagonist Conflict 10: Ted is led off in handcuffs.

RESOLUTION

External Conflict 10: Their plan succeeds and everyone lives, except the crew of the shuttle.

Interpersonal Conflict 11: General Smith tells Dick to stay. He is too valuable an asset to retire.

Internal Conflict 10: Dick and Sally leave for the airport to go on their vacation.

THE END

Now that we have a basic outline of the plot progression, we can begin our first draft. If massive changes are made along the way, it doesn’t hurt to repeat this exercise at the end. Make a list of each scene and the conflict it addresses. Does it still flow in a logical cause and effect order? 

Next week, we will take a look at how subgenres can affect the story idea.

As always, if you find this information useful, please like and share. 

The four layer method is laid out in Story Building Blocks: The Four Layers of Conflict, available in paperback and e-book if you wish to have a copy with all of the information. The theory information is also available on https://dianahurwitz.com/