What Good are Heroes?

Without heroes and heroines, fantasy worlds fall flat.  Heroes put the oomph into enchanted settings and heighten emotions in everyday relationships.

Men and women build stories, but what qualities create a heroic figure?

The hero evolved hundreds of years ago, well before stories of survival were written down.  Initial storylines portrayed heroes with superhuman characteristics capable of overpowering the gods.  As storytelling progressed, the hero became humanized.  His special quality became his courage to confront danger.  His personal sacrifices aided mankind.  Over time, heroes expanded from possessing exceptional combat skills to holding high morals.  Military leaders and politicians represented heroic geniuses who improved civilizations.

Fantasy heroes speak for the reader and respond on behalf of the reader.  Therefore, the hero’s persona resembles a regular, down-to-earth guy, yet, he holds a unique outlook on life with extraordinary abilities.  Heroes are attractive and sensitive to other’s feelings.  Readers prefer heroes wise enough to accumulate and manage wealth.

In the opening chapters of a story, heroes reveal their strengths and reasons for going out into the world.  Even if he begins his journey for personal reasons, the hero realizes all of mankind relies upon him.  Readers respond to heroes with special skills and outstanding inner-strength capable of overcoming negative odds.

Eventually, the hero’s strengths bring about his weaknesses.  The hero acts inappropriately but then justifies his behavior after completing his purpose. His fatal flaws inspire introspection while his strengths prevent him from becoming overpowered by emotional pain.

No hero can survive without a cast of characters.  Fantasies must supply civilians to save and enemies to fight.  Relationships with others establish the hero’s character.  His survival depends upon his interactions with others.

The main purpose of a hero in the fantastical world is to fight evil forces.  Heroes must overcome their fears in order to acquire empowerment.  Readers relate to the hero’s universal fear of suffering as a result of making sacrifices to gain divine knowledge.

A critical element of a hero is his separation from his tribe.  Abandoning his tribe grants him the opportunity to explore his inner self and discover life’s truth.

Readers yearn to watch heroes evolve spiritually.  On his journey, the hero’s intelligence awakens and he develops wisdom.  Doubting his abilities and questioning the concept of a higher source of power, the hero confronts his demons alone.  His recurring flaws surface throughout the story until he overcomes his defect.  The hero returns to his tribe to share his new gifts of truth and expanded awareness.

Critical to fantasies, heroes represent mankind’s desire to find unconditional love.  The hero persistently destroys forces in opposition to mankind experiencing love, regardless of what he loses in the process.

Heroes instill hope for the reader that the gods haven’t abandoned mankind.  Like the hero, man must learn to listen to his inner voice and rely upon his intuition when making life decisions.  Discovering personal power prevents man from being vulnerable to life’s influences.  Through the hero, the reader awakens an inner knowing and spiritual power wherein he realizes his true purpose and improves his life.  Heroes and heroines reveal the ultimate life lesson for readers.

Coville and Stine, Lewis and Riordan: The Makings of Geniuses

I never paid attention to my seven-year-old son’s hobbies, until his school held a reading marathon and I recorded his daily page count. My first grade son read 164 chapter book pages per day. He attended school, participated in sports four days a week and played hard on the weekends; yet, dedicated free time to reading.

Where did it all begin?

Perhaps two weeks after he was born. Feeling stir-crazy, I played folk songs while wiggling his arms and legs as if he were a puppet in The Sound of Music. Three times a day, I read seven picture books – twenty-one picture books per day. That made for hundreds of fantastical stories with dazzling artwork and catchy phrases. I covered numerous Bible picture books. We visited the library two or three times a week and hung out at the Thomas the Tank Engine section of our local book store once a week. I questioned whether such a young child gained anything  but appreciated interacting with him and staying busy.

By the time he was two, he became interested in non fiction books. Not only obsessed with weather, horses, and reptiles, he taught himself the spellings and facts about dinosaurs. I only wished I could go back to high school and retake a few tests.

By the time he was four, I read Bruce Coville books out loud. Imaginative, ironic and inviting, Coville novels sparked in my son a yearning to know the “what ifs” of the world. My son proved he was listening all those years by finding similarities in the plots. He gathered his Coville books together and counted the pages.

“Hey, in all his books, his first chapter is X number of pages long. They enter the fantasy world around Y number of pages. The bad guy shows up around Z page. Do you think the author did that on purpose?” He flipped through several books to show me the similarities.

“Really? The author follows a rhythm for his outlines? That’s impressive that you noticed.” I wondered why I never thought to count the pages.

He’d ask me to reread certain scenes from the Coville novels, digesting whether a boy would actually twist a ring and say the magic words if he knew he’d turn into a monster. Was it bad to be a monster? He was never quite sure whether a girl should trust a unicorn. He wanted to fully understand the cave scene.

When he was five, I was in charge of reading R.L. Stine books to him, but I wasn’t dedicated enough. He wanted to know what happened too soon for me to keep up and so he started reading by himself in the bathtub. No boy could resist opening the cover when rewarded with a moaning ghost.

Along came the Black Stallion. A boy, an adventure, and my son read it independently and noticed typos. By then, he wanted to be a hero.

Vacationing in Virgin Gorda, his reading appetite peaked when I bought aTreasure Island book with a CD narrative. Ignoring the beach toys, he followed along, learning how to spell. When we snorkeled in the caves that inspired the story and he was mesmerized.

When he was a six-year-old first grader, he graduated to the C.S. Lewis,Chronicles of Narnia so he could beat his older sister who read them when she was in second grade. Sometimes, he accidentally dropped his books into the bathtub. While one book dried on the towel rack, he’d switch to another, adopting the habit of reading three books at once.

“Don’t forget number 154.” He called out numbers whenever he had to stop reading and go to school. His system was for me to remember where he needed to pick up later.

He stuck with non fiction adult books. At a silent auction, he insisted we bid on a series about ghost sightings throughout the state. We spent weekends at the ghostly destinations because he was curious what they were like.

After years of his persistent questions regarding the differences between the movie and novel versions of The Lightning Thief, at age seven, still in first grade, he demanded I purchase all of the books at once, swearing he would read them. I doubted he would but bought them anyway. His comprehension and speed developed with the Riordan series. Finishing each book in three to five days, he was able to discuss mythology and teach me a few facts. He crossed over to being an official story junkie.

Is that all it takes, starting to read great books at an early age?

Perhaps, his interest developed prior to his birth? During my pregnancy, I dutifully listened to classical music and limited my diet to fruits, vegetables, dairy, and during the third term, fish. I meditated, walked three miles every day and did floor exercises until my seventh month. After he was born, I took him for daily walks, stopping to show him the cackling egrets during mating season, and collecting leaves and rocks along our path.

Once he was old enough to sit up in his stroller, we took the Audubon field guide everywhere we went, looking up which birds lived at the lake and which preferred the trees. Each day, we ate popsicles in a flowering thicket, waiting forpileated woodpeckers and jeweled hummingbirds and barred owls to join us so we could reread their narratives.

Maybe it was generational, going back to how much my family loved books. His father’s a genius reader – an exceptionally smart man. He retained the knowledge he gained at those swanky schools he attended.

I studied my older siblings’ schoolbooks to compare the prior scientific conclusions with the then-current findings. My sister’s social studies book devoted a chapter on why man would never reach the moon. An encyclopedia set dated around 1903 intrigued me by listing great men who had been forgotten. I read aloud to my Siamese cat each night. Her favorite story was about a lost dog looking for his mother. Before that, my mother took me to the library once a week where I discovered Little Babaji.

Outstanding authors motivated my son to read. The ability of Coville, Stine, Lewis and Riordan to arrange words to share their imaginations enticed him to read. Their ingenious skill with incorporating history with fantasy prompted my son to evaluate the characters’ behaviors.

By studying their work, my son developed an awareness. He noticed someone mentioned in chapter three was never brought up again. He asked me whether it was a mistake or perhaps Suzanne Collins intended for the boy to stay behind in the underworld.

“You’ll have to read the book in order to find out. If you want an answer, you have to look it up.” It was the same answer I gave when he asked about gaps in movie plots and like always, he took my advice.

Which came first, the chicken or the egg? The geniuses wrote the books, which taught children how to think like geniuses.

Novel Outlining: Strategize

First and foremost, decide the core elements of your plot.  Take your time and keep your initial structure simple.  Establishing what you intend to accomplish keeps you aimed on the bull’s eye of your target.

The main structure of your story has an Act I for the beginning, an Act II for the middle and an Act III for the end.  Write down the basic plot for each.  Some examples are as follows:

  1.  Act I:  The hero meets the protagonist.
  2. Act II:  The hero cheats on the protagonist.
  3. Act III:  The hero reaffirms his love for the protagonist.
  1. The Beginning:  The protagonist runs away from home.
  2. The Middle:  The protagonist changes his identity.
  3. The End:  The protagonist returns home as a hero.

Within your beginning, you promise to answer the question, “Why?”  The Middle pumps the story full of specifics.  The End feels complete because you answer the “Why” and provide an unexpected ending.

Once you have determined the core of your plot, list your setting for each of the three acts.  Include the location, the mood, and the environment.  Think about your protagonist and hero as if they were your friends whom you can call or meet for lunch to find out how their lives are going.  Notice what about them is unique from anyone else you know.  Start with this list and expand your information to include whatever you consider relevant.

Act I – The Beginning:

  1. Where does the protagonist live at the beginning of the story?
  2. What year does the beginning take place?
  3. How does the protagonist feel about her age at this time?
  4. Is the protagonist happy with his appearance?
  5. What jobs did her parents have?
  6. Did the protagonist enjoy his childhood?
  7. What type of friends does the protagonist have?
  8. What is most important to the protagonist?
  9. How did the situation, the driving action, in the Beginning result?
  10. When did the situation first evolve?
  11. Why does the protagonist care whether the situation took place?
  12. Who else was affected by the situation?
  13. Did the protagonist tell his friends?

Act II – The Middle:

  1. How did the protagonist reach this point?
  2. What caused the situations to develop?
  3. What motivated the protagonist to react the way she did?
  4. List three clues about how the story ends?
  5. What effect did the action by the protagonist in the Beginning have in the Middle?
  6. What mistake does the protagonist continue to make?
  7.  What situations have become worse for the protagonist?
  8. How is the protagonist vulnerable?
  9. What are the protagonist’s strengths?

Act III – The End:

  1. What would you like to see happen?
  2. Which outcome is best for the common good?
  3. How did the protagonist manage to survive this far without giving up?
  4. How does the protagonist feel at this point?
  5. When will the protagonist feel content with the circumstances?
  6. Where should the protagonist go from here?
  7. What happened that the protagonist wanted to avoid?
  8. Why should anyone care about the protagonist?
  9. What is similar in the End to the Beginning?
  10. What has changed in the End from the Beginning?

Like, Do You Really Mean It?

Ever since author and ex-agent, Nathan Bransford, blogged about the benefits of adding Like buttons all over websites and Facebook, I’ve been inundated with Like requests. Oftentimes, I punch those buttons not of the content, but because I like to help others. The Like button reveals what a likeable person the punchee is. 

I Like charities and businesses and unpublished manuscript descriptions and ebooks and artwork and pictures and novels and contests and publishers and unorganized groups and a few colleges. But the thing is, I’m not so sure the hundreds of pages I Like reciprocate my feelings. It’s like having a one-night stands. The fleeting joy of clicking the Like button is forgotten and I never hear from them again.

There are my friends who want to dump me from their conversational links and have a noncommittal relationship instead. It’s like being told, “I don’t want to speak to you ever again but I still want you to Like me.” Liking in cyber-space leaves the same void as when I had crushed on a boy during my childhood and never bothered to actually speak to him. 

Just as I never checked a box in a “Do you like me, yes or no?” note from a boy because it seemed contrived, unless someone shares my blood or speaks to me on a regular basis, I don’t Like him. Don’t take that as an insult. If I don’t Like you, it means I want substance. I want to interact with you. I don’t check out my interests pages to see what generic postings are happening with my siblings’ businesses. If I ever Like you, it means I won’t notice what you are up to again.

Noteworthy authors allow fans to converse with them on their friend pages. Acceptance by people I admire encourages me to remain loyal with following their publications. Marketing strategies evolve and images emerge according to the reactions of readers to simple tag lines.         

Cyber-space is sterile enough without the formalities of Like. I crave communication. By conversing with peers, I tweak my writing skills and tailor my words. Interchanges develop my craft. Feedback directs my future. 

Therefore, Nathan Bransford, I don’t Like you. It’s like my mother told me in a round-about way, “You can Like some of the people some of the time, but you can’t Like all the people all of the time.”

Clarify Scenes: Keep track of their purposes.

A stimulating plot consists of twists and turns, ups and downs, highs and lows – all accomplished by variety in the types of scenes.  Intentionally distinguish the purpose of each scene to avoid repetition in the pacing of your storyline.  The following are categories of scenes for building a well-crafted storyline.

Opening Scene:  There will be one opening scene and it serves a critical purpose.  Introduce the protagonist to the reader and establish the mood of the story.  Inner thoughts or immediate action aid with revealing the mindset of the character.  Make clear the underlying question of the overall story.

Conflict Scenes:  It is no secret that conflicts are critical to a story.  Conflicts results in attentive readership.  After developing the protagonist with the opening scene, reveal what is at stake.  Introduce a critical event.  Conflict surfaces when two characters desire a different outcome.   Emotions are peaked and character flaws exposed; however, make the reactions fit the personality types of the characters.  Don’t force the characters to respond in a way that will justify having a conflict.  Allow the conflict to develop over time and subtly by mentioning the resistance or negative thought prior to the conflict scene.  The conflict can be internal and unjustified.  The only requirement is for a struggle to warrant more than one possible result. 

Setup Scenes:  Provide background information during setup scenes to orient the reader within the setting.  Use the past to establish the intentions of the protagonist and evoke empathy regarding his current circumstances.  Setup scenes link together the elements of the plot and give depth to the characters.  Insights about the characters’ past provide motivation to take action, thereby propelling the plot forward.  Include family and economic background of the characters to spark readers to care.    

Confirmation Scenes:  Following each setup scenes, the movements and thoughts of the characters confirm the background information by revealing the results of the past.  If you mentioned that your protagonist’s mother died in a car wreck, take time to describe her reaction to a traffic jam due to a jack-knifed 18-wheeler.  Make sure you confirm previously provided information about the characters at a point in the plot that will provide the most impact.  For instance, don’t talk about the car wreck after she takes a shower and before she gets in the car.         

Time Warp Scenes:  Pacing the plot invites the protagonist to think of his past or even wonder about his future.  Time warp scenes supply critical information the reader must know before understanding what is to follow.  Make the time change obvious, whether it goes into the past or into the future.  Keep the reader oriented as to the place and when the situation occurred.  To justify the lull in action, only shift to a different time when the past or future is more intense than the current situation.  Do not remain in the time warp for a long.  Remember that shifting to the future thrusts the reader out of the story.  Consider beginning the story at the point of the flashback, thus making it a current event.

Obstacle Scenes:  Instill complexity in your plot by preventing the characters from attaining their desires during several obstacle scenes wherein a physical force prevents him from moving forward.  Emotional impact rises when outside forces prevent the character from reaching her intended outcome.  Give the protagonist a morsel of his desire and then replace his advantages with difficulties without losing momentum in the storyline.  Obstacle scenes intensify the plot with suspense.  Allow the protagonist to believe she is reaching her goals and then reveal that she is on the wrong path.  The more setbacks, the more heightened the resolution becomes.  Make sure the obstacles are unique for your circumstances.   

Pivotal Scene:  Allowing the protagonist to overcome the obstacles, show his suffering from mistakes, and resolve any misunderstandings in his relationships, then slap him with a sense of having no solution to an even greater problem.  Only one pivotal scene will be in each novel.  This bleakest moment provides greater impact than the obstacle scenes.  Sensationalize the impact with an uncontrollable force the protagonist is unequipped to handle.  It could be making the wrong decision or having a fallback to prior destructive behavior.  The solution of the pivotal scene invokes discontentment and additional suffering.  Follow the pivotal scene with several more obstacle scenes and then one final, blow-out conclusion scene.

Climax Scene:  The plot guides the reader to one climax – the moment the obstacles dissolve and the desires are fulfilled.  The peak of the plot is the most significant moment in the protagonist’s life of the novel.  Her mental state rises above the outstanding issues and inner conflicts.  A love scene can climax as a man vows to remain with a woman even if they never resolve their differences.  The end of a chase or resolution to a question other ways to reach a climax.    

Conclusion Scene:  At the end of your story answer open-ended questions and fill in the blanks.  Ease the reader out of the story instead of providing a jarring halt to the events.  Provide a sense of contentment like a flavorful dessert to clear the pallet.

It takes a flavoring of the different type of scenes to satisfy the reader’s senses.  Keeping track of what types of scenes you have guarantees your plot will be balanced.  Clarity of mind sparks the imagination.  An easy way to keep up with the types of scenes you have created is by underlining the text in a color you have selected for each scene type.  The colors provide a visual as to whether you have provided the right amounts of each element to your storyline.

Vaporize the Dark Zone

At some point in drafting a manuscript, you might realize your plot is dull and your characters are shallow and your storyline is weak.  Break through your dark zone with a jolt of inspiration. 

Share your overall concept with others in order to get a sense of the market reaction to your unique spin of an original theme.  Feedback fuels ideas for weaving together the details.  An objective reaction aids you in the formative stages so that you either gain confidence in your masterpiece or realize a better direction. 

Make sure not to give away the milk before you sell the cow.  Cherish the particulars you incorporated into your manuscript by keeping them a secret.  Only share the overall theme and a few original elements.  Retain the enigmatic thrust you’ve created for when your completed manuscript is ready to be presented as a whole.

Boost your initial spark by molding the plot around an issue you feel passionate about.  Recall the moments in your life that changed your way of thinking.  A situation where afterwards, you expressed more compassion toward others than you did before understanding the emotions and struggles relating to it. 

For instance, who was the first person you realized had passed away?  Perhaps as a child, a distant relative or one of your parent’s acquaintances died.  Even if your first encounter with mortality wasn’t without your household, you felt something.  What caused the person to pass away?  How did you react?  How did the people around you react?  Now consider the first time you realized killing a bug might not be necessary.  Include less traumatic realizations, such as a school visit to the fire department or perhaps the time you lost a favorite toy.  In what ways did pivotal experiences change your way of thinking?  Reveal the insights you mastered to others with the storyline you are currently building. 

Brainstorm for a novel manner of depicting your awakening.  Presenting the universal lesson with a fresh outlook seasons your solid foundation with a sense of the unknown.  View all of your plots as having a mystery, even if the unsolved question does not fall within the mystery genre.  The setting could be mysterious with its other-worldly physics.  The characters could be odd and complex with secrets unraveling about their past to justify their reactions.  The plot could present unexpected puzzles as to the how and when of resolving the issues.  Withholding information is a key element of captivating the reader.

View your manuscript as a thinking entity.  React to the words you strategically arrange on the pages.  Develop a relationship with your story.  Accomplish achieving this mindset in a variety of ways.  Imagine a Greek muse entering your study and relaying the key elements of your story you skimmed in the outline.  Was there more to the protagonist than you realized?  Perhaps you needed to get to know the protagonist in the first Act before you could accept the undesirable revelations.  Consider why your protagonist wasn’t ready to expose the weaker aspects of his character.  Do you blame him for being guarded when you were so reluctant to present him in his three-dimensional form?  

Incorporate the truth of life and human nature into your tidy storyline.  Don’t limit your characters and setting to your interpretations.  It is impossible for any one person to live the full beauty of life, because true beauty cannot be compressed into one limited perception.  Plunge into your subconscious in order to access the bigger universe.  The truth is, you and every one of your readers are greater than our material reality.  Sizing down a storyline and characters to fit into an overview of your surroundings won’t tell a true story.  We are influenced by a broader knowing than what we see.  By recalling your dreams and remembering your happy moments and appreciating your miseries, you tap into truth.  Meditation and discipline and exercising and researching, and endless other methods contribute to finding truth.  Burn incense, sit in your favorite chair, work outside, take a retreat, paint your room, bake goodies, fast, whatever suits you in connecting with the larger consciousness.     

Overlapping your knowledge about life and your interpretation of difficult experiences, even your feelings about pleasant moments, with the universal truths you no longer remember creates a cosmic force.  To channel the forgotten truth with your current state of mind, rely upon your instincts while disciplining your body.  Set time limits for writing, even if you don’t feel the urge and allow your stream of consciousness to speak through the characters in their voices and attitudes.  Resist rewarding your efforts, such as by eating or taking a break, until you have accomplished a new goal.

Reverse your creative process by building your storyline from the characters.  Allow the reactions of the protagonist to develop the surprise ending of a chapter.  Present the antagonist’s feelings as the main twist.  Piece together the extraneous ideas you haven’t yet managed to work into the plot.  Draw a pyramid on your notepad wherein the concepts merge at the conclusion of your story.  Loosen your concept of heroes and villains.  Blur the lines between the two. 

When all else fails, keep writing.

Feel the Voice Inside You

An inner voice inspired you to write your story.  Your take on the old fairy tale promised to be different.  You held an original vision of vampires.  A unique concept for lost love flowed into your daydreams and directed your characters.

That interpretation that spoke to you inside your head is your voice.  Voice flows naturally for many writers because they expose their perspective on life to the reader.  Voice is a character who verbalizes his thoughts on situations.  Each writer’s voice is unique because past experiences, background, social status, failures and successes, and everything else he cares about as the day passes and the night lingers, taint his opinions about every single scenario.

Feel what you are thinking as you write.  Are you anxious about dogs surrounding a swing set?  Did your big brother train your pet pooch to nip your toes while you soared up in the air and over the wall?  Incorporate the mood associated with your personal experiences.  Do fights bore you?  Perhaps your father always laid you by his side while he watched late night boxing matches until you fell asleep in his arms.  Feelings derived from memories determine the flow of your story.

Shine through the point of view.  Readers appreciate your thoughts about the world.  What do you think?   Put it in there.  How do you feel about what happened to your protagonist?  Your perspective is your voice.

For example:  Your next door neighbor uses your hose to wash his car on a no irrigation day for your district. 

Your child might say:  That mean man wants my fountain.

Your grandmother might say:  A large vagabond broke open the fence and showed complete disregard for your hard earned money.

You might say:  That good-looking guy is finally going to ask me out on a date because he thought of sharing with me first. 

Your ex-husband might say:  That cheesy creep who dresses like Moe is too cheap to pay his own way. 

A police officer might say:  College students steal water from this area so they won’t be cited for violating irrigation codes.      

You decide how to describe the events; thereby, you decide how the reader feels about your characters and events.  This is your voice.

Retain the same feel of your point of view through the good times and the bad.  Use your dear friends as a template.  One pal takes every comment as a criticism no matter how much you explain it was a compliment.  An eternally optimistic buddy never realizes when he’s worn out his welcome.  Those are people with a voice that carry a story.

Derive a character to narrate the story.  Rely on that same voice inside your mind that convince you to buckle up when you are in a hurry and advise you not to eat that extra doughnut.  Avoid casual slang and clichés while writing the way the character playing the point of view speaks naturally. 

Putting feeling into your narrative draws the reader into the story.  Every time he returns to your tale, the voice transports him into your world, with your interpretations and your imagery.  You drive the tale.  Through feelings shaped by your opinions about your past, you set the mood and tell the reader what to think.  This is you.  Feel your voice.

Justify the Why

To create a cohesive storyline, provide the Why for all of your characters’ actions.  No matter whether the scene revolves around your protagonist or introduces new information, explain why your characters have peculiar behavior.    

We’ve all heard the advice: before writing your story, make a list of family history, hobbies, and major life experiences for each character, no matter how minor their role is in the storyline.  Planning ahead produces a more complete first draft and provides inspiration for you to give complexity to your plot development. 

Admit it, new ideas arise while writing your story.  Even during a full re-read, you glean additional facts about your character’s past that is crucial for understanding why he reacts in a particular manner. 

Learning the motivations of all your characters is a positive sign you crafted compelling personalities.  The critical step that is necessary for capturing the reader’s interest is to educate the reader as to why your character deserves love. 

Keep in mind the first love you experienced.  You noticed a special something about your dear mate.  You grew closer and life switched from dull to blissful.  The sky illuminated brighter, children no longer annoyed you and congested traffic on the freeway hardly mattered, until you discovered your mate’s flaws.  Everything changed.  Your perception shifted.  You hated qualities you once aspired to adopt.  Nothing eased your mind, and your life’s quest centered on finding out Why.     

Why did your mate commit such retched acts before you two met?  Why did your mate treat you in a disrespectful manner when you mentioned certain situations?  Perhaps it was whenever you wore a blue jacket, your mate insisted you change clothes.  Maybe whenever your mate saw a certain person, the two of you had to leave the restaurant with your heads ducked. 

Oftentimes, you never understood the Why and ended your relationship, disappointed and lonely.  Then again, if you are currently in a relationship, it is proof that at some point, you chose to stay.  You committed yourself to understanding all the Whys that raced through your mate’s memories in order to keep love in the relationship.

It is impossible to find a person who doesn’t have a past that influences his present-day actions.  Notice that if you mention a situation where your mate reacted inappropriately, he will begin a story about his past.  He will tell you about his childhood, his family, his feelings, with an intention to justify his behavior.  His backstory is a request to continue conducting himself in a manner he wants as opposed to having to change.  If you are one of those lucky ones, he will beg for you to help him end his destructive behavior – all the more reason to spend countless evenings discussing his past. 

Whether you realized it or not, there are times you accepted the justifications.  You stopped nagging and wishing for changes.  You embraced your mate for having survived, for having suffered and for having feelings, despite everything he’s been through. 

Reveal your backstory in the same methods your mate shared his unwanted past.  Argue.  Allow the tension to build until your POV character can’t stand the behavior any longer.  Arrange a scenario where your characters can vent and accuse and justify by sharing their experiences.

Suzy always cheats because her mother never played Barbies with her and left the house for days at a time, leaving poor Suzy and her little brother alone with their pet alligator.  Give Suzy a chance to explain herself.  She wouldn’t list all the reasons she cheats, but she might blurt out incoherent excuses during a heated exchange.  These excuses provide backstory.  In the middle of all the yelling and accusations, your protagonist suddenly feels guilty for putting so much pressure on poor Suzy.  She never even had a chance. 

Consider shifting your POV to an ominous voice that narrates the justifications for your character.  Thoughts of the minor character revealed by an all-knowing presence looking over the world you’ve orchestrated is making a comeback and you might as well be one of the first to employ the reinvented method. 

Warrant justifications by giving your characters a chance to think things through.  Without knowing a character’s motivation, the reader disconnects from the action.  Everyone evaluates his life and analyzes whether his fellow beings have a right to conduct themselves in the ways they do.  When a reader comes across inner dialogue, he identifies with the character.  Processing the words gives the sense of having concluded the very same thoughts.  Agreeing with your character’s opinions instills companionship and loyalty.  A bond forms between the reader and the character, far greater than any relationship the reader will ever have with the author.

Inner monologue, otherwise known as flashbacks, controls the pacing.  The world slows down when you stomp out of the room to end an argument and walk across your yard to collect your thoughts.  You think about why you had a right to feel the way you did.  You recall previous conversations where Suzy swore she would never be unfaithful.  You visualize the abusive neglect Suzy experienced, and you reach a conclusion.  Perhaps you decide to punish Suzy, slowly and heartlessly, or you might race into the house to shout a few more points that support why she needs to end her behavior, and then again, you might forgive the poor thing for not knowing any better.  Whatever reaction you make, while you were thinking about events leading up to your argument, the world around you slowed down. 

Backstory adds depth to your characters and elevates tension within your scenes.  The secret to using them effectively is to reveal information after the reader is curious as to the Whys.  The less often backstory is given, the more secrets you create.  Secrets spark curiosity.  The unknown keeps readers attentive.  Provide justification for your character’s behavior by utilizing the exciting method of backstory with the purpose of answering Why. 

Coupling Characters

Love is sad, at least, if your sweetie-pie pulls you into her antagonizing world.  Personal perceptions rev up the complexities of our lives by creating hopes and disappointments, ambitions and setbacks, indulgences and abuses.  If your protagonist is special, he won’t accept a forgettable companion.  Vividly create a complex love interest worthy of your protagonist’s focused interest.   

  1. The love interest must evolve into an equal match to your protagonist.  Consider your protagonist to have qualities on a scale of 1 to 10.  However bold and charismatic your protagonist, his love interest must carry the same intensity. 
  2. Have their dynamic personalities clash over an issue critical to their wellbeing and happiness.  For example:  Your protagonist must tear down his crush’s home in order to eradicate nuclear radiation while he must preserve his castle in order to protect the soul of his long, lost son.
  3. Your protagonist carries the theme of your tale.  He is the common man with outlandish characteristics.  Someone such as a coal miner able to survive and care for his crew over eight months while buried deep within the earth.  Sharing his impressive qualities allows the reader to bond with the character.  After all, readers are real-life heroes.  Now, max his lover’s strengths to upstage his greatest accomplishments and self-sacrifices.  
  4. Incorporate into your story mankind’s amazing ability to rise to any crisis.  Reveal the strongest aspects of your weakened love interest while delving into your protagonist’s vulnerabilities.  Why is the lover angst and unavailable?  Why can’t she understand the protagonist’s point of view?
  5. Don’t stall with exposing your characters’ opposing strengths.  Hiding intriguing qualities about   your protagonist and his leading lady diffuses their contrasting interests.  Throw their dirty laundry into the forefront immediately.
  6. As soon as you introduce her love interest, plunge into his desires and thoughts.  Save the mystery in romance for your personal life.  What does he worry about most?  Does he analyze how he feels or just react without considering his own motives?  Is there anything he yearns to change about the world?  Does he daydream of a better environment?  Why does the protagonist spend time thinking about him?

Providing a direct opposite of your protagonist raises tension, which is a good thing.  Surprise the reader with your protagonist’s positive motives amid her many annoying traits.  Then, flip the tables for the love interest to have the same vivacity.  Embellishing her strengths allows her to surpass anyone your reader has ever met in order to peak complexities within your tale. 

Superstar Appeal

The storyline revolves around the protagonist, while the hero holds larger than life characteristics.  To fascinate readers and make them swoon over your lead character’s every gesture, develop heroic traits within your protagonist.  

Humanize your protagonist’s inner being.  Delve into his thoughts and understand his feelings.  Then, heighten dramatic impact by emphasizing his attributes.  Make them gigantic.  As long as you keep him grounded with down to earth qualities, don’t hold back on exaggerating his regular-guy strengths. 

Whereas the uneducated janitor in your apartment complex holds the door open for you and carries your groceries up the stairs, have your protagonist drop out of college to start a multi-billion dollar computer company and design chips that keep each room of his mansion at his heroine’s ideal body temperature.

Whether you open with the protagonist’s great deeds or her humble side, hint at her alter ego, her opposite characteristics within the beginning of Act I.  A passionate introduction to her current mindset provides a stepping stone for exposing her fantastical loveliness.  She might want to save all the deer in the world and begins by divorcing her husband of three months for going deer hunting with his pals. 

Readers consider themselves to be great people.  They contemplate their strengths and intellectual cleverness all day long, until they pick up your book and begin reading.  If they don’t meet a mirror image of their puffed up personas, readers feel disappointed in your story, disappointed in humanity, for being as pitiful as they really are.   Exaggerate positive qualities within your protagonist.  Turn him into a hero that rivals the attributes of that heroine who wrestles an alligator attempting to eat his ruan-away parrot.  Your readers bond with characters they believe are as superior as they are.

Heroic protagonists don’t have to be physically strong.  She might be the most compassionate woman at her church or gentlest creature who admits her weaknesses or dreamiest individual hoping for a better tomorrow, after 2012.  Prove that an ordinary person possesses extraordinary abilities.  Make your readers fall in love with themselves. 

Heroic Contrasting

Get the most out of your hero.  Have him dazzle your protagonist, shock your antagonist, and seduce your minor characters. 

Intensify tension:  Once you have established the personality of your protagonist, introduce a hero who holds the opposite values.  If the protagonist loves animals and lives as a clutter bug, invent a hero who personally kills everything that touches his taste buds and still adheres to his strict military training. 

Strategic tease:  Place the hero and protagonist in an awkward situation that is important to both but for different reasons.  Have their dialogue and inner thoughts remain true to their opposing values.  Give their self-serving actions zing by making each intolerable for any compassionate person to understand.  Stage a relentless battle between them with no resolution in sight.  Let the hero give away her cat while she visits her mother in the hospital. 

Heighten misery:  Impose every imaginable obstacle for each character.  Don’t stop there.  Thrust them together under circumstances beyond their control, yet have their values keep them passionately involved in their conflicting causes.  Don’t feel sorry for them.  Life deals lemons without supplying a knife or cutting board.   

Personal satisfaction:  Emphasize their opposing desires.  Justify the protagonist’s actions and then validate the hero’s refusal to satisfy her needs.  Let her ban smoking in restaurants even though he owns a tobacco plantation and can’t marry her unless he wins a case against a cancerous teenager who agreed to test the brand for minimum wage. 

Wait until the bitter end to resolve their issues and don’t have the protagonist cave into the hero’s alluring magnetism in exchange for something she values.  Wishy-washy liberals lose respect and flakey conservatives become ignored. 

By all means, have the hero take control of his relationship with the vixen.  He deserves the protagonist’s devotion and earns her affections.  She can’t help herself because he’s just so outlandishly heroic.  You create the scenarios and drive the tension to ensure your readers remain intrigued until the boisterous finale.

Day-by-Day Masterpiece

Several noteworthy writers stress the necessity of writing everyday in order to draft a masterpiece.  Are daily writing exercises a requirement for completing a publish-worthy novel?

Yes, if you intend to develop your craft.  Within a 24 hour period, our minds direct our actions.  We have surges of habitual behaviors, such as brushing our teeth.  We crave food and liquids to sustain our health.  Impulses to communicate our feelings prompt socialization.  We respond to nature and fixate on our passions. 

Embracing creative writing everyday reinforces our passions through our habitual patterns.  Everyday our minds have a creative moment.  You can capture all those moments if you are persistent. 

Writing each day intensifies our imagination.  Don’t neglect your goals because of a gloomy day when you feel your writing session will produce uninspired characters, dull scenes, or stagnant conflicts.  Consistency with sitting down and formulating your thoughts builds endurance.  Over time, your work will improve regardless of your mood or how well your schedule suits your writing endeavors.

By writing each day, you take advantage of all of your inspirational moments.  Ideas arise from what we see and hear throughout the day.  Recording your personal impressions of life as you experience them allows you to retain your unique interpretations.  The details of your mental images tend to blur into clichés if you wait a few days to describe them on paper.

Keeping in mind the techniques for writing a novel well, consider what is means to own a puppy.  Time is invested with researching the pedigree of the breeders’ dogs.  When you discover a match with your expectations, you negotiate the price and take him home.  You rush to the store for a collar that represents his personality.  Regardless of how adorable the little guy is, he needs potty and obedience training.  Even though you set the stage for the puppy to evolve into what you perceive as the perfect pet, at this point, you have only a few elements for developing your champion.  Now the work begins.  You must train the puppy and spend time with him every day, no matter what other responsibilities or interests you have.

In the same way, making notations in a notebook that allude to your masterful concept does not develop a strong piece of work.  You must invest the time and building of ideas in order for your characters and plot to evolve into the images you see when you close your eyes.  No matter how clear one dreams, the particulars fade within a few hours after rising from bed.  The clarity dims into vague shapes and colors with no meaning.

Your work is your creation.  It needs care and nurturing on a regular basis in order to survive.  If you don’t bother to care for the puppy for a day or two, the puppy will become weak and suffer. 

Making a commitment to write everyday does not require a time or word limit.  On a dreary morning, if you do nothing more than revise, still you will have nourished your creation.  Another day, when you feel energized you can devote full attention to a new scene without taking time to catch up on how your characters feel.

Your concept becomes concrete as you invest greater amounts of time.  Your vision gains definition and life. 

The tedious tasks we perform each day dampen our creative fire.  Our responsibilities resent our imagination and attempt to dominate our lives.  Devote daily time to your creative energies.  Discipline your writing skills.  Create what you visualize.

Open with Feelings

You control when the reader identifies with your protagonist.  Engage the reader within the opening scene to keep the reader attentive and loyal.  Your protagonist’s feelings establish his personality and develops a friendship with the reader.

Feelings.  Reveal the protagonist’s feelings.  I worked for a corporation where every morning, my boss asked me how I felt.  It seemed contrived, but I liked it and always answered honestly.  Opening with an action scene or a flowery setting lacks depth unless you include the protagonist’s emotions.  What does he think about the chase?  Is he getting old and it hurts his joints?  Did his cat just die and he really doesn’t want to be bothered with a terrorist at the moment?  

Give your reader a reason to sympathize with your protagonist.  Help him understand the hardships or joys your protagonist has faced through his interpretation of the opening events. 

Grand descriptions about the protagonist’s appearance, his snowy bread and his twinkling eyes, won’t entice a reader to think of him as a breathing person.  Save the eye colors and wardrobe explanations for after the opening scene.  Let the reader visualize whatever character is special according to his personal experiences.  Later, your physical characteristics about his hair texture or navy eyes will deepen his impression.

Atmosphere.  The atmosphere of the opening scene can be shown through the protagonist’s feelings.  His viewpoint creates the voice.  If the mood is dark, consider having your protagonist on her way home from the best birthday party she has ever attended.  This contrast imposes tension and establishes a distinctive tone.  The reader is more likely to identify with a happy person who is in a dangerous situation than that of a bad person who deserves to suffer. 

Organization.  Structure the opening scene to build tension.  A successful chain of action is to show an event, which reveals a problem for the protagonist.  Build the tension to a point that forces the protagonist to make decisions in an attempt to resolve his problem.  Show the protagonist executing his plan.  Then, reveal the consequences of his choices. 

By sharing his feelings at each phase of the structure, you layer addition conflicts between his choices and his desires.  The greater the number of layers, the higher the stakes.  Your reader will identify with feelings of fear, doubt, and determination, even if he has never had the same situation occur during his life.

In order to accomplish the techniques of showing the character’s feelings during the first few sentences, you need to have already analyzed him with your character outline and interview.  See my blog tab, “Foremost,” for additional suggestions.    

Hooking Techniques

The first few sentences of a manuscript establish reader expectations.  The reader opens your book optimistic that investing his time and focusing his attention on your creation is worthwhile.  Take advantage of his positive frame of mind by applying one or more crafty hooking techniques. 

  1.  Introduce your protagonist by immediately revealing his strengths.  Is he a firefighter who can leap several feet high above ground?  Perhaps it is a child who communicates with lizards.  Choose a character trait that holds significance later in the story. 
  2. Reveal the protagonist’s limitations as soon as you show his strengths.  Example:  The firefighters’ foot slips as he leaps with too long of a stride.  The child isn’t certain whether the lizard said he wants to drink water or wants to be dunked under water.
  3. Thrust the reader into your protagonist’s thoughts.  Expose his passions and disappointments as he moves through a scene.  Establish why he feels negative emotions to justify his intentions and create empathy within the reader.  Example:  He suffered a recent lose and now confronts his opponent.  Or within his daily routine he previously enjoyed before his lose, he realizes the situation sparks new meaning. 
  4. Establish reader expectations by sharing changes your character would like to take place in the future.  Example:  Hope for a free world where no one needs to limit their use of aerosol sprays, plastic packaging or drinking water.  Readers long for change and identify with character frustrations and desires. 
  5. Give your protagonist an awareness of his weaknesses and attempt to rectify his behavior.  Example:  He regrets spanking the dog for eating the last piece of fudge.  The dog has cancer and there is no harm in having a treat before being puts him to sleep the following day. 
  6. Show your character’s concern for his loved ones, or better yet, for strangers who deserve better.  Example:  Your protagonist defends a scolded toddler who had asked her father why steam rose from their inoperable vehicle. 
  7. Even an ordinary character appeals to readers when you present his positive traits at the outset.  Readers enjoy spending time with friends and befriend characters who are kind and considerate and modest. 
  8. Have your protagonist share the opening scene with his nemesis to give the reader a sense of loyalty to the misunderstood victim.  Invent a character with opposite qualities and motivations within the first few sentences.  Show how your protagonist handles such adversity.  Divulge his inner thoughts before providing background information.  This establishes a subtle secret that lures the reader to the next page. 

Whichever technique you utilize, remember to arouse emotions and opinions within your reader at the outset.  He will be hooked, for sure. 

 

Authentic Characters

Masterful storytelling results when you create fascinating characters with authentic motivations. Bring your protagonist to life by building a relationship with him in the same way you become friends with living beings who have feelings.

Place yourself in the role of your protagonist’s therapist and invite him to sit with you at your writer’s desk. Allow him to tell you about his conflicts with the antagonist and how he feels about his love interest. Consider your protagonist to be a ghost writer of your biography. Give your protagonist the freedom to share his creative ideas with you. If you have outlined for him to jump on a boat and rush to Monte Carlo upon discovering his love interest stole his inheritance from him, but your protagonist explains that he would rather get a job as her lawn boy to prove his devotion, then, allow him to explore his concepts for the scene. Save both your idea and your character’s vision for comparison. Brainstorm new developments that could result from his inspiration, but don’t let your protagonist become the boss. You have the final say and shouldn’t waste days by rambling off topic to suit your ego centered protagonist’s whims. Keep your story within the parameters of your plot outline.

As you write, ask your protagonist questions regarding his thoughts at critical moments. Make your protagonist the most significant character in your story. Give him the best lines and heighten his reactions. Instead of having him toss a pen on his desk when it runs out of ink as he signs his love letter, accept his passion for punctuality by showing the way he dumps his junk drawer on the floor to search for a box of pens he planned to give to his nephew who graduated from high school.

Engage readers by developing a protagonist who is someone you want to become: a hero, a martyr, compassionate; yet, robust. Seize the reader’s interest with the protagonist’s remarkable qualities. Stripping the protagonist of his social façade reveals his inner strength.

To hook the reader, open with a scene that shows the character’s humanistic qualities. The sooner you reveal his sentimental side, the faster you reader will accept him as an authentic person breathing and walking on this earth, whether you create this with a shocking moment where he gives his grandmother’s car to a homeless man or within a subtle description of his pausing to appreciate an elegant egret eating his expensive koi fish from his fountain.

Show respect to your protagonist by accepting him for his feelings and thoughts even those moments you learn he is not the wonderful man you expected, or he failed to meet our ideals of the perfect hero. Knowing him as well as your best friend gives authenticity to his actions and words, and engages the reader.

What Time is It?

Before you get engrossed with your protagonist’s suffering and your antagonist’s festering, find out what time it is in your storyline.

To keep characters straight and learn the in-depth motivations of your main character, create a family tree. Not just a few answers to biographical questions about the protagonist’s parents and in-laws, but put in the effort to go back numerous generations.

Perhaps your vixen is a descendant of an outcast religious fanatic, or maybe her line of ancestry stems from beggars and thieves who didn’t make a name for themselves until they started a bootlegging business during the prohibition years.

Just as your grandmother emphasizes every holiday, the more you know about your family history, the greater you understand and appreciate where your present day personae. Your emotions become grounded. Now you know why you hate condescension, after all, one of your ancestors was a king. You appreciate your financial status, since two generations ago your family had no clue who to read or write. You respect your body because you are the first person in your genetic pool to survive cancer.

Write a timeline for all major events that occur in your protagonist’s live, even if you don’t mention that he knocked his baby teeth out when he fell off the porch on his wooden pony. Carry the timeline to the end of the story.

Go back and include the major events of your minor characters and antagonist. How old were they when your dear protagonist was living on the streets, planning how to revamp the twitter industry to become wealthy.

Incorporate character development into the story structure timeline. When does your protagonist realize he is insecure and shouldn’t abuse lizards? Even if he doesn’t mentally debate the issue, remind yourself of the point in your story when your protagonist has a critical change in his opinions and interpretation of events.

This is the time to realize if your timeline doesn’t evolve into a full world of tension and exoneration. Possibly, your minor characters won’t take shape. They won’t have opinions of serious events from their past that shaped their personalities. Your protagonist could be a shallow flake who merely reacts to catastrophes without revealing her vulnerable side, her fears and hopes and dreams. You might realize your story isn’t ready to be formed onto paper: another excellent reason to draft that timeline before delving into writing your scenes.

 

Start at the End

Once you have your plot outlined and you’ve become familiar with your protagonist and hero, write your final scene.  Knowing the climax of the story gives you direction while writing your first draft.  Meandering toward to a vague resolution might feel creative, but aimlessly building scenes stifles spontaneous inspiration that could strengthen your plot. 

Writing the ending first allows you to drop clues as to how the story will conclude.  Readers expect to be surprised with the ending, but they want you as the writer to play fair.  When you sprinkle hints as to what happens in the climax, the reader appreciates being outsmarted and develops faith in your masterful skills.  

By planning your climax before you invest time into describing your scenes, you gain the advantage of knowing the details of your descriptions.  The conclusion of your story provides the foundation for you to fill in the gaps within the mortar of your storyline. 

Grant the reader the gift of understanding the depth of your characters by using dialogue to support the unexpected conclusions you have in store by the final sentence of your story.  Let the reader recall a conversation between the protagonist and antagonist that allows him to comprehend your reasoning in choosing your resolutions within the final chapter.  Readers turn pages to find out what they don’t know, but they enter your world full-heartedly when you prove you won’t let them down when it comes to supporting your facts and conclusions.  You must fulfill reader expectations.  That is why so many popular stories are remodeled classics:  orphaned boy discovers he has magical powers, lonely hero saves the world from natural disaster, yet another Cinderella story.

As you create your story, open-ended questions arise in the reader’s mind.  If the sub plots and innocuous issues are not resolved by the end of the story, readers resent wondering what happened.  Dangling questions craft an incomplete plot.  To compose a solid storyline and ensure you answer all the presented questions, write the ending first.

Knowing what happens to your characters at the end prevents you as the writer from creating inconsistencies within your facts and descriptions.  You are the creator, and the clearer your ideas are before you place them on paper for others to view, the more precise your recollection of the events and characters will be.

Bond with your reader by creating reliable storylines with action that flows into a tidal wave and facts that remain consistent:  start at the end.

Character Depth

The focus of your story revolves around the protagonist.  Your protagonist is the character who has issues to resolve.  He questions the activities surrounding him and carries the theme of the plot.

Your hero doesn’t have to be your protagonist.  It could be your leading lady’s adversary, her nemesis or her romantic focus.  Emphasize your hero’s extraordinary qualities.  Expose the hero’s faults and lovely weaknesses that cause anxiety for the protagonist.

Give your protagonist superhuman attributes that the reader wants to emulate.  Readers identify with positive qualities in others and it is through your protagonist’s strengths that the reader becomes engaged with your story.  The sooner you reveal your protagonist’s positive qualities, the faster the reader cares about his welfare.  Concern for the protagonist provokes the reader to turn the page.

Also, provide weaknesses for your protagonist to overcome.  Make a list of why the protagonist has those weaknesses.  Throughout your story, incorporate the reasons so that the reader can empathize with the horrific situations your protagonist must endure in order to accomplish his goals.  His negative qualities clashes with the other characters and creates intense conflicts throughout the story. 

Exaggerating the significance of an event, specific circumstances or sentimental objects to the protagonist intensifies the conflict.  The higher your conflict soars, the more connected the reader feels with the protagonist’s desire to risk his life and safety in order to resolve the main question of your story. 

Keep these attributes in mind as you free-write on behalf of your protagonist’s inner thoughts about the main events you intend to occur within the plot.

To Begin With

If you have submitted your manuscript to an agent, a writing competition, or other industry leader, most likely you are familiar with their initial concern.  Hook the reader right away. 

Telling a writer he needs to hook the reader is easy.  Dissecting your manuscript and determining how to engage the reader can be difficult. 

Start with the structure of your opening.  Make sure your first two chapters focus on your protagonist.  Reveal the best qualities of your sweetheart or macho as if you are setting the reader up on a date with your protagonist.  You wouldn’t describe cranky Auntie Footstink as having the largest honker in her high school class.  You would mention her volleyball awards and being president of her favorite activities club.  Save your protagonist’s negative qualities for a moment when the reader will forgive her for being imperfect.  Didn’t your dearest love interest handle revealing her indiscretions delicately?  

Be creative in sharing the protagonist’s characteristics.  Instead of telling the reader that she is selfish, show her give a small tip to the bellman who carried her life-size Big Boy statue to her car.  On the flip-side, describe him running into a tornado to shield a stray cat from the rain.

Introducing your protagonist with an action scene creates anticipation and gives him an opportunity to save the day.  Ensure the events in the opening scene mirror your protagonist’s state-of-mind.  For an overburdened character, a desk covered in piles of unread query letters could catch on fire.  A sad character realizes he forgot his wallet when he tries to donate money to the armless nuns’ hostile.     

While you need to introduce your supporting characters in Act I, allow your protagonist to have the spotlight.  Sprinkle information about the supporting characters, yet expose the inner workings of your protagonist. 

Within the first few paragraphs, your protagonist should spark familiarity – a moment where the reader thinks, I know that person.  You achieve creating a sense of familiarity through writing revelations that remain sensitive to man’s desire to hide his weaknesses.  Simultaneously, give descriptive details of your protagonist’s true essence so that the reader notice’s his flaws. 

Building Act I

The first Act establishes the story foundation during the initial third of the manuscript.  Give a complete image of your protagonist by including his feelings about his daily routine, his ambitions, and his interpretations of his surrounding events.  Also, provide significant details that distinguish your additional characters from the crowd.     

 As the characters interact during Act I, create subtle conflicts and strong attractions, in addition to your high energy tension.  For now, resist the urge to modify their behavior after a major event.  The protagonist repeats her mistakes and lives in denial.    

 Provide clues about how the upcoming catastrophe will erode his current lifestyle.  Leave surprises for when the reader reaches the climax, but also form solid foundations to build future events.  Having the circumstances arise as the likely outcome of the accumulating tension satisfies the reader’s sense of trust.

 By planning your first Act, you spark questions within the readers’ mind that guide him into your world.  Establishing the theme early within Act I gives the reader a comforting expectation.  Consider being forthright in revealing the essence of your story as a gift to the reader and he in turn trusts your authority in making creative decisions.