Writers solve problems all the time. Heck, rule #1 of good
writing is to create good conflicts and then solve them. We read (and write)
fiction for the express purpose of seeing how the hero will deal with the
conflict, solve the problem and (we hope) live happily ever after.
Think of Sherlock Holmes. Where would he be without a
problem to solve? The nuns in The Sound
of Music have an entire song dealing with the question: “How Do You Solve a Problem like
Maria?” Setting our characters up and then solving their problems are what
writers do.
Non-fiction writers, of course, deal with real-life problems
and their solutions. How do we lower the crime rate?…clean up pollution?…feed
the hungry? Readers of non-fiction expect facts and figures, fair expectations
and clear, do-able solutions. They expect the authors to dig deep into the root
causes and provide more than just a band-aid solution. They want to know what
needs to be done and how much it’s going to cost them.
Many non-fiction pieces are written in a straightforward
manner, first defining the problem and then stating the proposed solution. Not
all, of course. Jonathan Swift’s “A
Modest Proposal” takes a different tack entirely. Swift advocates for a
solution he knows will shock people, explaining with careful, logical reasoning
how the exploding population of Ireland can be controlled by the simple
solution of eating the children. Continue reading, however, and his sarcasm
becomes clear as he rounds to his real solutions (rent control, decent wages,
respect for the workers). The structure of his piece creates his argument
almost as much as his words.
So how can fiction writers translate these other elements
into their writing? It all comes back to that problem we gave to our heroes and
heroines.
Short stories are easiest because they have only one
protagonist (usually) and therefore, one conflict. You should be able to
summarize the problem in a single sentence: Montressor needs to get revenge on
Fortunato (Poe’s “Cask
of Amontillado”); Walter Mitty enjoys his fantasy life more than his
reality (“The Secret
Life of Walter Mitty” by James Thurber); Maisie grapples with her grief (“I Stay a Little
Longer” by Diana Allandale).
Because the problem is singular, the solution is often
fairly straightforward as well. SPOILER ALERT: Montressor kills Fortunato,
Mitty chooses to remain in his fantasy world, Maisie learns that life moves on.
Even Sherlock Holmes, with his twisted path of clue-gathering, still goes from
a simple problem (someone’s life is in danger) to a simple solution (catching
the bad guy).
The skill of the
author comes first, in creating the problem and second, in moving the
characters to the final solution in a believable fashion readers can understand
and relate to.
So one might think that novellas and novels, because they
are longer works, have more complicated conflicts and hence, more complicated
solutions. You’d be wrong. Take the longest novels or epics you can think of. Ram needs to
get Sita back (single protagonist, single conflict); Frodo
needs to destroy the ring at the same time Aragorn
must finally accept his heritage (two protagonists each with his own conflict).
Harry must destroy Voldemort
(again, single protagonist, single conflict throughout all seven books).
Keep in mind, in longer works there are several smaller
conflicts introduced along the way (Ram losing the trail and having to make
friends to help him out; Gollum, who’s a conflict all by himself, Harry has to
pass his final exams). Each of those smaller problems, however, serves the
larger one. They are simply roadblocks thrown up to determine just how much the
protagonist really wants to reach the solution of his problem.
Note, btw, that readers often know the solution in advance.
We know Sherlock will catch the killer, that Ram and Sita will find each other,
that the nuns will figure out what to do with Maria and that Harry will prevail
over Voldemort. Again, this is where the
author’s skill comes in: crafting those roadblocks, those mini-conflicts that
keep us reading far longer into the night than we intended.
Activity:
NOTE: This activity
can be done with either a story you’re considering (for you plotters) or one
you’ve finished and are now editing (you pantsers!)
Make a chart with five columns. Put the name of the
character in Column A and his/her problem in Column B. In the fourth column
(Column D), put the solution (see below).
I did not forget Column C. This is where the bulk of the
story resides. Are there roadblocks? How are they solved? How does each one move
your story forward (and if it doesn’t, then cut it. Be ruthless. Keep only what
makes your story stronger).
Lastly, label the fifth (Column E): Motivation. Why is it
important for the character to solve his/her problem? Why should your readers
care?
Fill in the chart for all the major characters in your story. Where do their motivations overlap, or better yet, clash? What kinds of tension can you build as you move your characters from Column A to Column D?
Column A Column B Column C Column D Column E
Character name his/her problem the roadblocks the solution motivation
Have some fun with this! It's a good exercise for those of you who plot first and its a great exercise for those of you who are pantsers and need to make sure you haven't left any holes.
Remember, I offer these workshops for free, but I do accept donations. If you're finding them useful, put a penny in the pot?
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