“That’s the problem with all you readers. You know all the plots.”
That line jumped out of SUNSET BOULEVARD the other night. William Holden is speaking to a studio reader, a young woman who earns a living by reading books and scenarios for possible adaptation. But it gave me an idea for today’s entry, which is about plotting and recreational readers.
If anything can be learned, it’s plot. First of all, you already know more about plot than you realize. As a reader and a movie-goer and a television watcher, you have absorbed a lot of information about plot. Ask yourself this: How often does a book or film truly, truly, truly surprise you? How often do you not know how something is going to end? Oh, you might not know the particulars, especially if you’re reading a twisty guy like Harlan Coben or Jeffrey Deaver. But you know where things are headed. You know who’s going to get together at the end of the romantic comedy, who’s going to survive in the thriller. You know when a story has failed you, you can spot plot holes. You know when you can forgive plot holes. (GODFATHER PART II, I’m looking at you.) You know when you can’t. (DALLAS, Bobby in the shower.)
You really do know how to put a story together and if you don’t, you can always do what Harry Crews did with Graham Greene, according to the Francine Prose book, READING LIKE A WRITER. Just take apart a book you admire. Take it apart like children once took apart watches. There’s no risk. You can’t break the book, you won’t leave it in pieces.
And once you do all that, once you persuade yourself that plotting can be learned, that the crime genre, in particular, is about taking simple stories and making them complicated — know this: Your readers know all the stories, too. If you’re a writer, you are read by people who have more time to read than you do. They read more and probably more widely.
This information should be liberating. It freed me. Once I realized that there would always be readers who could suss out key elements of a story (assuming the writer plays fair), I started writing for that person. If you’re the kind of person who likes to figure out the end of a crime story, then I think: Okay, how do I keep you in the text once you’ve got it figured out?
My solution? I withhold the “why” of things. I try to create characters interesting enough so that the reader cares what happens when the characters finally realize what’s going on. And, within my feeble limits, I try to make the prose rewarding.
But, generally, I head into every novel, repeating this mantra, which I first heard Dennis Lehane utter ten years ago: “Chinatown is a very simple story”
SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER
“if you know that Evelyn Mulwray was raped by her father and had his child.”
SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER END.
Someone close to me, a voracious reader and a very smart guy, admitted to me recently that he has the plot for a novel, but he can’t find the characters. Another writer, hearing that confession, said to me later that it was gratifying that this smart guy realized what we do isn’t that easy.
Where do characters come from? I guess we’ll have that discussion tomorrow. Given that this is sort of like discussing where babies come from, be sure to bring your parental permission slips.
Now I know why I don’t enjoy some movies-when I can tell the ending within the first half hour and the characters are not engaging me enough!!!! Thank You so very much!!!!!!! Now I know how to improve my writing- the plots are life, they are all around us, but the charaters, we have to make them come to life, we have to become creators-that is hard work-ask any mother in childbirth!
Thanks, all. I didn’t really have much of a plan going in, decided very last-minute to write off the top of my head, natural, about my own process. Coming topics: Characters. First Authoritis. Self-Publishing. Mulching. Oh, wait — that’s just a note to myself about some household tasks.
It must be a sign of getting old, but I’ve given up on American made movies. I can predict exactly what is going to happen and the characters are plot devices instead of people (that is, when they are actually PEOPLE instead of aliens).
But, I’m okay with knowing what is going to happen if the how it’s going to happen is worthwhile.
Well, I don’t want to provoke the schoolmarm again, and I don’t think this veers (very far) off the ‘off the top’ topic – but this question of plot versus character (more or less) reminds me of the relationship between books and then the movies made from those books.
My lovely wife invited me to the movies a weekend ago, and off we went to some movie that I had NO preconceptions about. It was called Dear John – and Pam had read the book. It was a matinee, and when we walked in the theater was already packed – easily 250 people – and I was one of maybe 5 men in the whole place! (at first it felt a little like I’d been had, but then I thought ‘oh well’)
To cut to the chase – I loved the movie! It had a beginning, a middle, and an end – and it kept me interested all along the way (plus, having the young actress from Mamma Mia helped immensely!)
But – and I’m not kidding – when the movie hit the end, and the credits began to roll, there was an audible gasp from some portion (10%?) of the assembled audience – including my wife! She was somewhat put off with a series of small departures that the movie made from the book, as (apparently) were some number of other audience members.
But when I asked her about these items, what emerged was that really nothing in the plot was different at all – but some of the details within the characters got switched around, and she disliked that very much!
You remember the plots except when you are 2000 years old…which makes it fun to re-read. And I probably average six books a week and have for years and years.
Will be interested in your words of wisdom about where characters come from. If the characters aren’t interesting or if they don’t appear plausible, I quit reading.
I’ve never stopped reading a Laura Lippman book
What is this? You’re suddenly blogging every day? I’m not complaining, as long as your real writing, which I eagerly await, doesn’t suffer.
I may at some level know how to plot, and I do seem to guess the story-behind-the-story in every mystery I read (I wish I didn’t; too often I just give up on a book part-way through because I know what’s going to happen), but I have a terrible time plotting my own books. I feel as if I’ll never learn how to write.
I remember that quote!
I love that you’re being taken to task for not writing by your commenters!
It’s been observed that audiences/readers stay with well worn plots waiting for the rewards they know come at the end. The writer’s task is to throw enough obstacles in the way to threaten the expected outcome. Consider “North by Northwest” and what happens (for over two hours) before Grant and Saint can climb into the upper berth.
Great example of a familiar plot that gripped readers and moviegoers is “The Day of the Jackal.” Everyone knows DeGaulle was never assassinated. The fascination comes in following the Jackal’s meticulous plans to kill DeGaulle and the suspense comes in waiting to see how the Jackal will be stopped.
It’s an ideal time to blog every day because I’m in the final leg of prepping galleys, a time in which I don’t try to write fiction because the new book gets all mixed up with the last book.
I don’t know a writer who thinks plotting is easy, but I do think it’s the most accessible part of what writers do, the one thing at which one can improve through sheer hard work.
Being married to a former filmmaker and script writer, I’ve gotten pretty good and figuring out plotlines on tv shows and in movies, but not in books. In fact, I can reread mysteries because I can’t remember details.
Wow, I think I learned more today reading this than from all of the “writing” books I’ve read. Seriously. You make it seem simple but you’re right, it is simple. Hmmm. Thanks, Laura. I’m sharing your blog entry on Facebook today.
Then just let me throw in that I am enjoying the new daily TMP posts immensely. Thanks.
True story: I really don’t like the #13.
Well you know – 13 doesn’t bother me.
But if, for example, I have to figure a selling price on a thing that costs $499.50, and our usual margin on that sort of item = 25% margin; then when I do the math and the selling price pops up as $666 –
that result would NOT fail to bug me (and I’d knock a buck off there, or whatever)
Such ‘bothersome’ numbers pop up with (somewhat surprising) regularity