writing the heart of your story (3 page)

The First-Page Checklist

I am often asked to do one-on-one critiques at writers’ workshops and events, and because those appointments are usually a scant fifteen minutes long, I came up with a way to dive into each writer’s story in that short time. They are instructed to bring page one of their novel, and in that short span of time I read it, then go over a number of important elements that need to be on the first page—using my handy “First-Page Checklist.”

Granted, not everything on the list must be on page one, but the idea is to be aware of all the elements needed to appear early in a novel—in order to set up that strong entrance to the mine. I believe that the closer to page one you can get all these components, the better. I have heard other writing instructors say similar things in their workshops as well. Without sending you into cardiac arrest by listing nearly twenty important items you need in that first scene, I’m going to concentrate on some important ones—the ones that really need to be considered.

So here, and also available
here for download
from my website using this link, is the First-Page Checklist.

First Page Checklist

___ Opening Hook: Clever writing and image that grabs the reader

___ Introduction of main character in first few lines

___ Starting the story in the middle of something that’s happened (or happening)

___ A nod to setting; avoid excessive exposition or  narrative

___ A catalyst, inciting incident, or complication introduced for your character

___ A hint at character’s immediate intentions

___ A hint at character’s hidden need, desire, goal, dream, fear

___ Unique voice/writing style

___ Setting the tone for the entire book

___ A glimpse at character’s personal history, personality—shed light on motivation

___ Introduction of plot goal

___ A course of action/decision implied: introduction of high stakes/dramatic tension

___ Pacing: jump right into present action. No backstory

Think of:

* One characteristic to reveal that makes your character heroic and vulnerable

* One element of mystery, something hinted at that raises curiosity

* One element out of the ordinary, unusual, that makes your book different/stand out

* Concise, catchy dialog (if in the first scene) that is not boring or predictable

* A way to hint at your theme, if you have one

We’ll be going over these elements in the various chapters in this book, but here’s a simple list to whet your whistle:

* Introduction of the plot goal for the book

* Determining the Major Dramatic Query (MDQ) for your main character

* Opening hook

* Hint of protagonist’s visible goal, intentions, need

* Delving into an inciting incident or moment of conflict

* Sympathetic introduction of your protagonist

* A nod to setting

* Establishing tone and voice

So be prepared to begin at the beginning to mine your way to the heart of your story. If you start well, I am confident you will finish well. A well-built foundation ensures a solid house, but, well, you may have heard what Jesus said in his Sermon on the Mount about the man who built his house on sand. When the wind and waves [read: the critics and reviewers of your novel] lashed at the house, it crumbled. Jesus referred to that kind of person as being foolish. The fact that you are reading this book tells me you don’t want to be cast in with that guy who was left scratching his head at the ruins of his house, wondering what he did wrong. And just as with any building structure, it’s all about the foundations—the materials and design used to ensure that house or skyscraper or whatever you have delineated on those blueprints before you will stand the test of time. You can “build” you novel so it, too, stands the scrutiny of critics and has lasting power as it speaks to untold people regardless of time or place.

My Caveat

Of course, there are always exceptions to every rule, and I’m sticking my caveat in here right now. This is my method and what I have determined is the best “way” into the tunnel to get to the heart of your story. You are welcome to disagree with some or most of what I present, but, for the fun of it, come along with me as I lead you through these tunnels and see what you pick up. If it’s only a small chunk of gold here and there, who’s to say the trek was a wasted effort? I hope, though, that you will load up your sack with gold, and you’ll get so proficient in establishing a firm structure for your mining operation that it will serve you time and again with each novel you write—leading the reader to the heart of your story.

Think about
. . . the novel you are presently working on—whether you’ve finished a draft or are just in the plotting stage. Take some time to think about the first scene you have in mind and whether it holds the potential to reveal all the necessary components needed in a first scene. Grab one or two of those favorite novels you looked at earlier and highlight the items in the First-Page Checklist as you encounter them in each novel’s first scene. This will help you start to see how other authors build that entry to their story’s mine.

Chapter 3: Unloading the Nonessentials

“Words, words, mere words, no matter from the heart.”

~William Shakespeare

Before we begin to shore up the mine shaft leading to the heart of our story, we should examine which materials we need and those we should ditch. No sense hauling a huge load of useless, even detrimental, materials up that long, winding road if they aren’t going to help us accomplish our goal. There is nothing worse than expending valuable time and energy on building something that you will just have to throw out, right?

I am truly astonished at how many successful authors (some who put out a best seller each year) spend months writing draft after draft of their novel, tossing each draft in the trash before they finally get the story fixed in their mind well enough to write the “keeper.” No wonder these authors tell me how stressful writing is to them, how they often hate their vocation and struggle with every word on every page. I can’t help but wonder why they’ve chosen the method they have and stick with such a painful, wasteful process when they could have a much more enjoyable time creating.

I picture them hauling a heavy iron cart full of weighty building materials up a steep hill, week after week. Then, upon arriving at the top of the mountain where sits the entrance to their mine, they sift through their cart, tossing one giant item after another over their shoulder in realization they really can’t use it, until all that’s left in the “useful” pile is a handful of nails or a few short two-by-fours. With great weariness they realize they have to make yet another trip down the hill to get more supplies, but rather than make a list, they stumble on, unsure of what they need, without a plan or blueprint, and repeat this same futile process over and over again.

“I Just Can’t . . .”

Sounds harsh? I suppose it is. Some writers say they cannot write at all if they plot anything out. They can’t seem to find their creativity or come up with a story if they try to work any of the details out in advance. Some throw up their hands and say, “I can’t plot. I’m a ‘seat-of-the-pants’ writer. I need to let my creativity flow, let the muse take me, wait for inspiration . . .” I understand that mind-set—I truly do. But if you are one of those people, I want to say this to you: I don’t believe this is your only choice. I don’t believe that if you took the time to set up all the needed elements in advance to provide a sturdy, clear entrance to your mine that you would not be able to write your story. I do believe it’s a matter of determination and choice.

We are not victims of our nature and personality. Would a surgeon say, “I just don’t feel I can stitch up this patient’s injury that fast and in the recommended way? I need to go at my own speed and be spontaneous so as not to compromise my style or talent or gift. If the patient dies, oh well. I need to be true to who I am”?

Granted, writing a novel is not a life-or-death matter (although sometimes we feel it is). But it is something that requires a skill set and proficiency of craft. Some artists choose to paint spontaneously without much advance thought—just let the brush strokes come and the colors fly. Some artists create masterpieces that way. The same goes for dancers and street poets and musicians. There can be great art produced without planning or preparation—bits of genius expressed that pour from the heart and soul, and spontaneity can be a beautiful thing.

But I will venture to say writing a full-length novel is a bit different from creating a poem off the top of your head. A novel comprises thousands and thousands of words. Each word must somehow string together with other words into sentences and paragraphs and scenes and chapters and create a holistic, cohesive whole. Throwing one hundred thousand words into a blender and spilling them out onto a page does not a brilliant novel make. There are way too many elements that must fit together beautifully, and every word should count and every nonessential piece discarded.

With that said, let’s take a look at the most important element that needs to be omitted from your first chapters—backstory.

Take a Backseat, Backstory!

Okay, we’ve heard that forever. But it’s true. In order to start your story with a punch and draw your reader in, you need to construct a scene happening right here and now (or with something in the past, like a historical, right then and now). Regardless of the semantics here, you get the point.

Some writing instructors say things like “no backstory in the first fifty pages.” Some editors at publishing houses will be so bold as to say they would be happy if they saw none in an entire book. Maybe that won’t quite work for your book, but it’s sad to say that countless scenes start with a line or two in the present, and then, whoosh! There you are reading about the character’s early life or marriage or something she did right before the scene started. Which should make you ask . . .

Are you really starting your story in the right place? More often than not, the answer is no. That’s what second and third drafts are for—throwing out your first scene or two.

At the Breakout Novel workshop given by Donald Maass that I attended, he commented that a good number of novel submissions he reads should really be starting with chapter three or four. He noted that a lot of beginning writers spend ten, twenty, or thirty pages just “setting up” the story by explaining a mountain of information they think the reader must have before the story can actually be underway.

In an exercise he had us do, we went through the first thirty pages of our novel, removed every single instance where we used backstory or informative narration, and then chose only three brief sentences containing a “backstory fact” we felt we really must include in the opening chapters so the reader would “get” the story. These three sentences were to be conveyed by the protagonist in dialog to another character (forcing us to avoid narrative and share backstory via dialog, which is usually the best way to do so) or as a thought in the character’s head. Needless to say, when asked, we students all agreed our novels read much better without the backstory, and we had indeed learned our lesson.

Give Readers Some Credit

So think about weaning yourself off the need to explain—or as it’s put in writer’s circles, RUE: Resist the Urge to Explain. Your readers aren’t dumb—really! They don’t need you to explain everything, and they actually enjoy a mystery and being allowed to start figuring out the puzzle you are presenting. Don’t just eliminate backstory—think about all that excessive explanation and narrative and description that goes on and on and delays the reader getting into the mine shaft to take the journey you want them to take.

Dump the Excessive Explanation

Every time an author stops the present action of a scene to explain, it’s akin to a playwright stepping on stage in the middle of an act, pushing aside the actors, and telling the audience something she thinks they absolutely have to know about why or how she wrote the play or what is really going on behind the scenes. I wouldn’t be surprised if the audience started throwing tomatoes at the writer and yelling, “Get off the stage! We didn’t come to see you!”

That’s exactly what the reader feels like when the author of a novel interrupts a scene to give “a word from your sponsor.” No one likes commercials, right? When the commercial comes on, we get up and go into the kitchen to find something to eat. When a reader encounters a bunch of backstory and tedious explanation, they skim over it until they get back to the “real” story.

Most of the books I read and edit don’t “get going” until page twenty or thirty. All that up-front explaining, narrative, setting up the scene, etc., was all great back in Dickens’s time (A Tale of Two Cities, for example), but we don’t do that anymore. TV, movies, and video games have changed the modern reader’s tastes. Readers today want cinematic writing. Sol Stein in his book Stein on Writing says, “Twentieth-century readers, transformed by film and TV, are used to seeing stories. The reading experience for a twentieth-century reader is increasingly visual. The story is happening in front of his eyes.” This is, of course, even more true in the twenty-first century.