Advanced Fiction Writing Blog

What with the July 4 holiday and various deadlines in my life, it’s been a whole week since I blogged. I’ve got my critique group tonight, so I’ll need to be brief today.

My question for today: What are you reading this week? (You can cheat and say what you read last week, if you want.)

I’ll start. Last week I read Tosca Lee’s forthcoming novel HAVAH for endorsement. If I could write as well as Tosca, I’d consider myself a writer. HAVAH will be out in October. It’s a novel about Eve (as in Adam and Eve). I had thought there was not much to say about that story. I was wrong. One thing I like about Tosca is that she makes me think about things in a whole new way. Tosca tells me she’s not good at math, but she is (despite that tragic flaw) brilliant. If you read her first novel DEMON, you know what I mean.

I also read THE GOOD GUY, by Dean Koontz, which is about a “regular guy” in a bar who meets a stranger who mistakes him for a hired assassin and gives him $10000 and the photo of a woman to murder. Of course, this regular guy has to poke his nose into this business and try to save the woman. A good, fast yarn, very much the kind I like to read. Here’s a link on Amazon.

I was on quite a roll last week, and I also reread BLOOD BROTHERS, by Rick Acker. I had read it several months ago for endorsement, and got an autographed copy in the mail from Rick last week. I don’t normally reread books, but I did this one. I enjoyed it even more the second time than the first. This is a legal thriller about two feuding brothers who own a pharmaceutical company and are fighting it out for a new billion-dollar drug, so there’s a nice science backdrop and some good fight scenes PLUS really authentic legal manuevering in the courtroom (Rick is a lawyer in the Bay Area). To be honest, I liked this novel better than the Koontz novel. That takes nothing away from Dean, of course. It’s just that Rick’s book is EXACTLY the kind of book I like to read. And it was very well done. BLOOD BROTHERS is just off the presses and is available on Amazon now.

I’m also rereading Book #6 in the Harry Potter series. I’ve been reading the whole series aloud to my kids for the last several months. They’re of course way too old to be read to, but it’s a family tradition that goes back almost 20 years, and we all really enjoy it, so we’ve kept it up a lot longer than you are “supposed to.” My kids don’t much like Book #6 for some reason, although I do. They like Book #5, which was not such a favorite of mine. But hey, they’re all pretty darned good, and I’ll no doubt end up reading the whole series another 10 times.

What are you reading this week? Got any recommendations for some GREAT fiction?

I am working on my Advanced Fiction Writing E-zine today, and am taking a few minutes off to blog.

Today is also the day a new online magazine about fiction is launching, and I was asked to write a humor column for it. (Am I qualified to write humor? I have no idea.) The editor asked me to write like Andy Rooney. I decided I didn’t know how to write like Andy, but I could write like Randy. So I wrote an article and it was the absolute most fun I’ve had writing anything in ages.

Check out the results here, in my spoof article titled Three Reasons To Ban All Non-Amish Novels. The editor found it necessary to explain one of my jokes in parentheses, but other than that, the article made it through the gamut unharmed.

OK, I’m going back to work on my e-zine.

It’s Friday, which is not normally a blog day for me, but I thought I’d comment on a couple of reader comments on yesterday’s post on subtexting.

Wayne wrote:

So subtext would then seem to be a literary technique like dramatic irony involving information withheld from the characters.

But you say “I don’t plan subtexting either. I just write.” Why not plan subtext? Shouldn’t an author plan what info to withhold?

Also, what is the broader term for literary techniques that withhold information?

Randy sez: I’m not sure if it’s a matter of withholding information from characters, so much as it’s a matter of characters acting the way real people do–which is to say they lie, fib, prevaricate, obfuscate, and dissimulate. Once in a while, they even tell the truth, if it suits their interest.

Elizabeth wrote:

You said that you “don’t plan subtexting either. I just write.” which I’m surprised to hear; when I write dialogue or interior monologue, I’m very aware of what my characters aren’t saying, as much as I am of what they are — perhaps I’ve spent too much time studying Pinter, but that’s crucial for my character development.

Randy sez: I’ll answer Wayne’s second question and Elizabeth’s first at the same time. There are really four main activities we do as writers when we create fiction:
1) Research
2) Planning
3) Writing
4) Editing

Different people put different amounts of efforts into each of these, depending on their personal tastes. Let’s look at each of these:

Research: Michener was a research puppy and Clancy is one now. Grisham doesn’t care for research. I like research, and have done some rather insane amounts. I have a lunar calendar valid for Jerusalem between the years A.D. 50 and A.D. 75. I made it myself, using astronomical tables of new moons. I once wrote a computer program to calculate trajectories of spacecraft between earth and Mars (for my novel OXYGEN). It took me 3 weeks to answer a question my coauthor and I had about whether a deep-space rendezvous could be done. I showed that it could, and calculated the exact date it could occur. We revised our plot slightly to accommodate this.

Planning: Frank Peretti and Davis Bunn like to do quite meticulous outlines. Jerry Jenkins and Robin Lee Hatcher prefer to just sit down and type the story without any planning. My Snowflake method is a planning tool that is very flexible and will accommodate both the meticulous folks and those (like me) who want to have some structure but leave some surprises, although it is not much use for those who don’t want to plan anything. I need to plan out the large-scale structure of the story, but I need to NOT plan out the details. There is no right or wrong choice on planning that works for everyone–there is only the right or wrong choice for YOU.

Writing: Some people hate writing first drafts and some love it. I love it and write quite fast. In January, I interviewed Susan Meissner on this blog, who shared how she routinely writes a novel in 30 days or so. That speed is about right for me, too, IF I’ve done my research and my planning. But there are also those who write very slowly and painfully, leaking the story out of their veins one word at a time. Again, whatever works for you is whatever works. I have tried writing slower and the result was worse writing.

Editing: Some people love editing and others hate it. I don’t particularly like it. I have a suspicion that those who hate the first drafts love the editing, whereas those of us who love the first draft tend to hate the editing. Once again, this is a choice each writer has to make.

The bottom line then is that you only have 100% of your time and effort to give to any project. You can apportion more or less of it on the four phases: Research, Planning, Writing, and Editing, but it’s all going to add up to 100% in the end. There is no set of proportions that is “best” for all writers. But for YOU there is probably one best way to split your time in order to get the best out of yourself. Your mission is to find that split and stick to it.

Here’s roughly my split:
Research: 40%
Planning: 20%
Writing: 30%
Editing: 10%

Now I can answer Wayne and Elizabeth on why I don’t plan my subtexting–I prefer not to. It works better for me not to. But for some people it works better to plan it.

I’m curious how my Loyal Blog Readers split their time. If you’re brave, post a comment with your estimated apportionments for Research, Planning, Writing, and Editing.

Yesterday, I started a new series of posts on the topic of subtexting in dialogue. I gave an example from Harry Potter Book 4. Today, I’m going to respond to comments from my loyal blog readers:

Sean wrote:

Ah, great subject! I’ve been pondering this one for a while–how exactly does one go about writing subtexted dialogue? It’s easy enough to spot, and it’s wonderful to read when done well (as in the example of Lizzie vs. Lady Catherine in Pride & Prejudice), but how do you do it? Clearly you must have a previously established context that drives the subtext. But where I stumble is on the actual dialogue. How should what is said relate to what isn’t said?

Randy sez: Subtexting happens when the characters, for one reason or another, can’t say what they really think. So they dance around the issue. In the example I showed yesterday, Ron is scared to death to admit (even to himself) that he likes Hermione. Since Hermione likes Ron, she doesn’t want to mess things up by saying that she likes him. If she didn’t like him, she’d laugh in his face and tell him, “You’re just jealous!” And there wouldn’t be much conflict, because Ron would just scowl and say, “You’re mental!” and then he’d be off the hook and so would she.

Parker wrote:

If I’m understanding this correctly, it seems that an overtly sarcastic remark is frequently the visible side of subtext.

Randy sez: Sarcasm can be a cover for a different message. Or it can just be rudeness. Subtexting happens when people can’t or won’t say what they think, whether from fear, anger, jealousy, or just plain cluelessness. And I’m sure there are a bunch more reasons.

Paulette wrote:

I have heard two different viewpoints about dialogue in our CBA fiction writing. One is that people who write dialogue are lazy and the other is that to tell a good story it should be full of dialogue to describe the characters in full.

Randy sez: What you are looking for is balance. The dialogue should be in the amount appropriate for your story and your genre. In an action-adventure novel, you’ll have less dialogue and more exploding helicopters. In a romance, you’ll have more dialogue.

Lois wrote:

And…Turn aside and cover your ears, Grammar Police…if your characters’ personalities, motives and situations drive the dialogue, doesn’t it happen naturally, or do we, should we, program it in? Does it, subtexting, should it, appear in all forms of writing?

How might it differ from one character to another? Dialogue has been one of my stronger points, so I’m told, but I have not been aware of planning it, or even if I’ve accomplished it.

Randy sez: I don’t plan subtexting either. I just write. Subtexting happens when appropriate and it doesn’t happen when not appropriate. When I go back to edit, I see it and buff it up to be better, but I don’t have a schedule that tells me, “Write 2000 words today, and make sure 184 of them are subtexted dialogue.” I wouldn’t know how to write like that.

Gerhi posted a fairly long section from Alice in Wonderland. I have no understanding of this story at all, because I never read the book. Can somebody explain what is going on here? I have no context for it:

`Have some wine,’ the March Hare said in an encouraging tone.

Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but tea. `I don’t see any wine,’ she remarked.

`There isn’t any,’ said the March Hare.

`Then it wasn’t very civil of you to offer it,’ said Alice angrily.

`It wasn’t very civil of you to sit down without being invited,’ said the March Hare.

`I didn’t know it was your table,’ said Alice; `it’s laid for a great many more than three.’

`Your hair wants cutting,’ said the Hatter. He had been looking at Alice for some time with great curiosity, and this was his first speech.

`You should learn not to make personal remarks,’ Alice said with some severity; `it’s very rude.’

The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; but all he said was, `Why is a raven like a writing-desk?’

`Come, we shall have some fun now!’ thought Alice. `I’m glad they’ve begun asking riddles.–I believe I can guess that,’ she added aloud.

`Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?’ said the March Hare.

`Exactly so,’ said Alice.

`Then you should say what you mean,’ the March Hare went on.

`I do,’ Alice hastily replied; `at least–at least I mean what I say–that’s the same thing, you know.’

`Not the same thing a bit!’ said the Hatter. `You might just as well say that “I see what I eat” is the same thing as “I eat what I see”!’

Today I’d like to begin a new topic, and I think it would be cool to talk about dialogue for a bit. Dialogue is a big topic, of course, so let’s focus on subtexting.

Roughly speaking, subtexting refers to the art of putting a whole different layer of meaning under the surface, so that the dialogue is not really about what the dialogue appears to be about.

Let’s look at an example. This is from Book 4 of the Harry Potter series. Harry and his friend Ron are at the Yule Ball, very much not enjoying themselves, when they’re joined by their friend Hermione, who’s date for the evening is Viktor Krum, a student from the rival school Durmstrang:

“It’s hot, isn’t it? said Hermione, fanning herself with her hand. “Viktor’s just gone to get some drinks.”

Ron gave her a withering look. “Viktor?” he said. “Hasn’t he asked you to call him Vicky yet?”

Hermione looked at him in surprise. “What’s up with you?” she said.

“If you don’t know,” said Ron scathingly, “I’m not going to tell you.”

Hermione stared at him, then at Harry, who shrugged.

“Ron, what–?”

“He’s from Durmstrang!” spat Ron. “He’s competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You–you’re–” Ron was obviously casting around for words strong enough to describe Hermione’s crime, “fraternizing with the enemy, that’s what you’re doing!”

Randy sez: Subtext is tricky, because a lot of times you need to know the context, and that’s often not apparent in a short segment like this. The context is this: Both Harry and Ron dithered around for a long time before asking girls to the ball. Harry asked Cho Chang, who he’s had a crush on all year, and she turned him down because she’d already been asked. Ron asked Hermione, who turned him down, claiming that she’d already been asked out also. Ron didn’t believe her, but she refused to say who had asked her out. So he didn’t find out until he got to the ball and found that Hermione’s date was Viktor Krum, one of the best Quidditch players in the world.

Why is Ron so mad at Hermione? It has nothing to do with “fraternizing with the enemy.” It has everything to do with Ron being rather sweet on Hermione, and just assuming (since she’s rather a plain girl) that nobody else particularly is interested in her. So Ron’s angry at Krum for horning in on the girl he likes; he’s really angry at Hermione for not knowing it (oh, but she does); and he’s perfectly furious with himself (as he should be).

Ron can’t say any of that, of course, because it would mean admitting to emotions that he barely understands, so he makes up a rather stupid excuse to be angry.

Hermione knows all this, of course, but she can’t say anything, because this is something Ron is going to have to figure out for himself. If she explained it to him, it would ruin the game, and the game is that Hermione likes Ron.

Harry doesn’t get any of this. Like Ron, he’s way slow on the uptake, so he takes the entire conversation at face value.

That is subtexting–two different dialogues going on at the same time, one visible, one invisible.

Do you have a favorite example of subtexting in a book you like? Post a sample of it here and we can talk about some of them.

For the past few weeks, we’ve been analyzing scenes using the framework of Motivation-Reaction Units. (For a review of this tool, see my article Writing the Perfect Scene.)

Today will be the final analysis. We’ll look at a few paragraphs posted by Suzanne. We could, of course, go on forever on this topic, but I think it’s time to be moving on, which we’ll do tomorrow.

Here is Suzanne’s full submission:

Mira Johns took long strides up Chule Vista Blvd., and paused at the crest of the hill, her heart throbbing heavily in her chest, to catch her breath and admire the sprawling white brick campus of Los Robles High School.

Her hands clenched anxiously into fists at her sides. Her new clothes—plaid shorts, frayed sneakers, t-shirt, and a pack slung across her back—felt stiff and foreign, as if she were in a costume. The sudden blast of a horn from behind startled her.

She jumped and turned to see a shiny, red Neon zip past her into the school parking lot. A boy in the backseat was poking his body half-way out an open window, and yelled a string of indecipherable words that floated away with the wind.

Her fingers self-consciously tugged at the hem of her t-shirt while she watched the car pull into an empty parking space. She pushed back the fear that they had been able to see through her that easily. While painfully aware of the fact that she was no ordinary student, she reminded herself that she wasn’t all that different either. Quite literally from a different world, she only had to do one thing to succeed: blend in.

She squared her shoulders and stepped forward, moving undeterred across the street and into the busy parking lot, focused on the building directly below the looming marquee that read: Home of the Trojans. Welcome New Students.

Randy sez: This reads pretty well. The question is whether we can make it read better. Can those pesky MRUs make a difference? Let’s take a shot and see what happens.

The first paragraph is mostly one long Reaction (by which we mean it focuses on the POV character.) The end of the paragraph has a Motivation in it which is mixed up with a new Reaction. I would propose to break this longish paragraph into several shorter ones that are either pure Motivation or pure Reaction. Here’s my suggestion:

Mira Johns took long strides up Chule Vista Blvd., and paused at the crest of the hill to catch her breath. Her heart throbbed heavily in her chest.

Beneath her, the white brick campus of Los Robles High School lay sprawled out.

Mira’s hands clenched anxiously into fists at her sides. Her new clothes—plaid shorts, frayed sneakers, t-shirt, and a pack slung across her back—felt stiff and foreign, as if she were in a costume.

A horn blasted directly behind her.

Randy sez: The first paragraph is Reaction, the second is Motivation, the third is Reaction, and the fourth is Motivation. Note that in the last sentence, I have eliminated the word “sudden” because it adds words and makes the horn blast LESS sudden (by making the sentence take longer to read.) Also, I have removed the statement that the horn startled her. The reason is that saying it startled her is “telling.” Remove that, and now it startles the reader.

For the next paragraph, I’d suggest breaking it up as follows:

“Oh!” Mira’s heart double-thumped in her chest. She turned to look.

A shiny, red Neon zipped past her into the school parking lot. A boy in the backseat was poking his body half-way out an open window. He yelled a string of indecipherable words that floated away with the wind. The car pulled into an empty parking space.

Randy sez: The Reaction in the first sentence is now clearly separated from the next Motivation–the boy in the car. The scene now has a somewhat quicker pace because we are not presenting it as if it’s all happening at the same time.

I’ve pulled part of the next paragraph forward to join up with the Motivation above. The rest of the paragraph now makes a nicely coherent Reaction:

Mira’s fingers self-consciously tugged at the hem of her t-shirt. She pushed back the fear that they had been able to see through her that easily. While painfully aware of the fact that she was no ordinary student, she reminded herself that she wasn’t all that different either. Quite literally from a different world, she only had to do one thing to succeed: blend in.

Randy sez: The reason I pulled out the bit about the car from this paragraph is because it had nothing to do with Mira. What remains is all about Mira–it’s all a Reaction.

Now let’s look at Suzanne’s last paragraph, which I again have broken up into a Reaction (that continues the previous paragraph) and a Motivation:

Mira squared her shoulders and stepped forward, moving undeterred across the street and into the busy parking lot.

Directly ahead of her a marquee loomed: Home of the Trojans. Welcome New Students.

Randy sez: Again, I’ve disentangled the parts that were about Mira from the parts that are about the school.

Now you be the judge: Have I disimproved Suzanne’s work or improved it?

Tomorrow, we’ll start on a new topic. I’ll figure out what it is between now and then.

For the last couple of weeks we’ve been analyzing various snippets of fiction posted here by my loyal blog readers. I think I’m getting ready to switch topics to something new. Any suggestions? What’s a burning problem in your writing life right now? Post a comment here to let me know. It’ll help me decide what to talk about next.

For today, we’ll look at the next submission on the list, which was posted by Lynn. It is clear from the few paragraphs posted that this does not take place in the present time. I can’t quite tell which century or country this is, however:

There stood Sarah Brown. A low growl rumbled over his
adam’s apple. She should know about Mark. His jowls
drooped and he rubbed them.

Sarah turned, and her face blanched at the sight of him.

He wanted to be angry this moment, but the pain of betrayal, the pain his own son brought him—he was not without sympathy. “You are as wicked as Anne Hutchinson.”

Her hands trembled as she set the pot she held down on the board. “Sir?”

“You told Mark he was free from sin.” Twas not that the essence?

“Sir?”

“As Anne Hutchinson denounced holiness, so has your influence on my son led to his unholy acts.” Even as he spoke the words his conscience stabbed him. He pressed his hand against the burning in his chest. He could not admit that Sarah’s influence on Mark was to any good.

Randy sez: This could be America or England; could be the 18th or 19th century; I can’t tell on either score. We also aren’t told the name of the point-of-view character, though his son is apparently Mark. Let’s look at each Motivation and Reaction in turn:

Motivation #1: There stood Sarah Brown.

Reaction #1: A low growl rumbled over his adam’s apple. She should know about Mark. His jowls drooped and he rubbed them.

Randy sez: I would recommend putting these in separate paragraphs to highlight the fact that they are Motivation and Reaction. To me, the Reactions seem to need some work. It seems a bit impersonal to say that the growl is rumbling over his Adam’s apple, as if it’s happening TO him, rather than him causing it. Also, it’s a rare guy who will admit he’s got jowls. Since this is his point of view, I’m not sure he’d think of them in those terms. And I don’t see why he’d rub his jowls because they’re drooping.

Motivation #2: Sarah turned, and her face blanched at the sight of him.

Reaction #2: He wanted to be angry this moment, but the pain of betrayal, the pain his own son brought him—he was not without sympathy. “You are as wicked as Anne Hutchinson.”

Randy sez: I am lacking the context to understand what is going on here, but it seems like our POV character is awfully undecided about what he’s feeling right now. And it makes it hard for me to identify with him. At this point, I’m REALLY wondering what his name is. There are an awful lot of pronouns here. Can’t we see one use of his name?

Motivation #3: Her hands trembled as she set the pot she held down on the board. “Sir?”

Reaction #3: “You told Mark he was free from sin.” Twas not that the essence?

Randy sez: These are pretty straightforward dialogue, with an action tag in the Motivation and some interior monologue in the second. However, again, without the context, I’m not quite sure what to feel here.

Motivation #4: “Sir?”

Reaction #4: “As Anne Hutchinson denounced holiness, so has your influence on my son led to his unholy acts.” Even as he spoke the words his conscience stabbed him. He pressed his hand against the burning in his chest. He could not admit that Sarah’s influence on Mark was to any good.

Randy sez: I wish I understood better what was going on here. There is clearly some theological difference between our characters, but I don’t really understand it enough to know whom to like. The POV character is awfully conflicted here. It seems that he’s not sure what he believes. I can’t tell whether that interior conflict is good or bad, because I don’t have any context for making that decision. One thing I like is Sarah’s repeated use of the word “Sir?” She’s playing fairly tough here, while our unnamed POV character is playing fairly weak.

I am continuing to critique samples of writing that my loyal blog readers have posted here. For those of you who may be just tuning into this blog, we’re discussing those infamous “Motivation-Reaction Units” and you can read the theory about them in my article on Writing The Perfect Scene.

Today, it’s Doraine’s turn. Here’s what she posted:

Thanks Randy. This is a very helpful discussion. Here’s an excerpt from my Middle Grades novel. Four friends have named themselves The Menagerie. They are at the school playground near dark one night and see boys throwing paint on the school. Margaret is the main POV character.
—–
The other two tossed their empty cans on the grass and ran toward the darkest corner of the school yard.

“Duck!” Tyrone whispered.

The Menagerie flattened themselves against the hill. Margaret felt like a hand was reaching into her chest and twisting her insides around until she couldn’t breathe at all.

Footsteps pounded above them. None of them dared to move.

Margaret tried to force breath back into her lungs, but there seemed no room inside her body for anything besides her pounding heart.

Tyrone sat up. Lily squirmed to her knees. Agatha propped up on her elbows, put both hands on her pigtails and pulled at them.

“Huugghh,” Agatha said, disgusted. “I can’t believe they did that. How awful.”

Margaret lay with her face in the grass, still trying to breathe.

“You okay?” Agatha nudged her with her elbow.

At the touch, something inside Margaret snapped like a rubber band and air rushed back into her lungs like water rushing over a broken dam. She choked, rolled to one side, and sucked in great gasps of air between coughs that shook her entire body.

Randy sez: This is nicely done! Let’s look at each Motivation-Reaction pair in turn:

Motivation #1:
The other two tossed their empty cans on the grass and ran toward the darkest corner of the school yard.

“Duck!” Tyrone whispered.

Reaction #1:
The Menagerie flattened themselves against the hill. Margaret felt like a hand was reaching into her chest and twisting her insides around until she couldn’t breathe at all.

Randy sez: The Motivation comes in two parts, one from the vandals, the second from Tyrone, who is Margaret’s friend but is not the POV character. Doraine has wisely put these in two separate paragraphs. The Reaction is also in two parts. The group all drop to the ground, including Margaret. Then she has a delayed emotive response, which is why it is shown AFTER the hit the ground. Margaret is either having a panic attack or asthma. In either case, it’s a good solid visceral “showing” of what she’s feeling.

Motivation #2:
Footsteps pounded above them. None of them dared to move.

Reaction #2:
Margaret tried to force breath back into her lungs, but there seemed no room inside her body for anything besides her pounding heart.

Randy sez: Here, I think it might make sense to break that Motivation into 2 paragraphs. It’s kind of a judgment call. In this case, I think it would raise the tempo just a wee bit, which is good. The Reaction here is again very solid–it’s pure physical response. We can feel exactly what Margaret’s feeling.

Motivation #3:
Tyrone sat up. Lily squirmed to her knees. Agatha propped up on her elbows, put both hands on her pigtails and pulled at them.

“Huugghh,” Agatha said, disgusted. “I can’t believe they did that. How awful.”

Reaction #3:
Margaret lay with her face in the grass, still trying to breathe.

Randy sez: Well done! The various parts of this compound Motivation let us see the entire group of kids. Then the Reaction lets us feel again with Margaret exactly what she’s feeling.

Motivation #4:
“You okay?” Agatha nudged her with her elbow.

Reaction #4:
At the touch, something inside Margaret snapped like a rubber band and air rushed back into her lungs like water rushing over a broken dam. She choked, rolled to one side, and sucked in great gasps of air between coughs that shook her entire body.

Randy sez: Excellent! The Motivation this time comes from her friend, and that physical touch is what Margaret needs in order to catch her breath. I’m going to bet this is a panic attack, not asthma, and it sounds to me like Doraine knows what it feels like. (So do I.) This is really good writing, Doraine! Aside from breaking that one paragraph into two, I don’t have any suggestions for improving it.

In my last blog entry, I continued a critique of a section posted by Katie. I think we all agreed that her revision was a bit better than the original.

Gina asked this question:

Just when I thought I was getting this, I hit a speed bump. Can’t a thought (which I’m assuming is rational speech, but could be wrong) come BEFORE a feeling or reflex? In my example below it’s the thought that causes the feeling. Putting the feeling before the thought (which caused the feeling) seems out of order. What am I not getting about MRUs?

Ex:
I waved at him, but he focused on herding the students to their desks. What if I was forced to listen to a detailed lecture on forensics? The all too familiar agita churned.

Randy sez: If the feeling is more natural after the thought, then put it there. In this case, you have a Reaction (”I waved at him”) followed in the same sentence by a Motivation which is told in narrative summary (”he focused on herding the students to their desks.”) I would recommend splitting this Motivation out into its own paragraph and showing it.

Then you have a new Reaction in two sentences. Let’s look at each of them in turn. The first part of the Reaction is interior monologue, which is a rational act: “What if I was forced to listen to a detailed lecture on forensics?”

This is good so far, but now you’re worried about the sentence that follows: “The all too familiar agita churned.” This is an emotive Reaction, but what is it reacting to? The answer is that it’s reacting to the POV character’s own interior monologue. So it has to come after the interior monologue. You’ve got the emotive response in the only place it’ll work.

Now let’s turn to the sample segment posted by Sam a few days ago:

“Hey, I think they’re making out” Tim exclaimed.
“Let’s scare them” said Chuck, matching the same mischeveous smile that Tim had.
As they walked through the trees, the moonlight allowed a good view of the inside of the car. The car began to shake and rock as the noises became louder. Chuck looked back at Tim and tried to supress his laughter.
A Scream pierced the night air. The car stopped rocking. Chuck and Tim were suddenly frozen in place.
The passenger door opened and a woman’s body fell out onto the ground.
Tim stared at the body; Chuck at the man who was closing the car door.

Randy sez: I’m going to guess the genre here is Young Adult horror or suspense or something similar. The Point of View character appears to be Chuck, but I don’t think you are fully in Chuck’s head, for reasons we’ll see when we analyze each MRU in turn.

Motivation #1: “Hey, I think they’re making out” Tim exclaimed.

Reaction #1: “Let’s scare them” said Chuck, matching the same mischeveous smile that Tim had.

Randy sez: This is OK so far. It’s not completely clear who is the POV character here, but this would be clear in the context of the whole passage and so it’s not necessary to make it obvious in every MRU. The usual ways to let the reader know who’s the POV is by mentioning thoughts or feelings of one particular character. It appears that Chuck’s matching Tim’s smile might qualify here as an indicator of POV. But let’s move on:

Motivation #2: As they walked through the trees, the moonlight allowed a good view of the inside of the car. The car began to shake and rock as the noises became louder.

Reaction #2: Chuck looked back at Tim and tried to supress his laughter.

Randy sez: This is a strong clue that Chuck is our POV character–trying to suppress his laughter. In Sam’s text, these were both in the same paragraph. It would clarify things to put a paragraph break between them (and fix the typos, which I will not do).

Motivation #3: A Scream pierced the night air. The car stopped rocking.

Reaction #3: Chuck and Tim were suddenly frozen in place.

Randy sez: Here, the reaction is sort of shared between Chuck and Tim, which deprives us from identifying strongly with either. It would be stronger to show us Chuck’s emotive reaction here. What does he FEEL?

Motivation #4: The passenger door opened and a woman’s body fell out onto the ground.

Reaction #4: Tim stared at the body; Chuck at the man who was closing the car door.

Randy sez: Once again, the Reaction is shared between Tim and Chuck. And here it’s a little fuzzy just who is the POV character. Chuck can’t know that Tim is staring at the body. Chuck at this point only knows what he is staring at.

Overall recommendation: Try to sharpen up things just a bit so that we are experiencing this terrifying scene solely through Chuck’s eyes. Show us what he sees; make us hear what he hears; and most importantly in a visceral scene like this, make us feel what he feels.

Yesterday, I analyzed a short segment posted by Katie. Today she offered a revision, and I think it’s clearly better.

Katie wrote:

Karel barely let the door swing shut before turning on him. “What is with you? First you treat me like some empty-headed dolt only good for a kitchen, then you try to ruin the deal with the only guide we have available!”

“The man is an arrogant pig!”

Randy sez: So far, this is the same as before. But now watch…

“Who cares? Of course he’s arrogant – he’s the best guide in the area! He’s willing to take us to Paravel at the swing of an ax, knowing his earltan is after you, and you’re complaining because he’s confident about his work?” She stabbed her hands on the table between them. “You’re the one who’s too arrogant. You’re willing to throw our lives away for one condescending remark?”

The question stung. “You’re willing to risk your own country to prove you’re my equal. Why do you think I was trying to lead the conversation?” He bent forward and lowered his voice. “If he thought this was all my idea, he’d be less curious about your motives. I was trying to protect your identity!”

Randy sez: In both paragraphs, Katie has inserted a small action tag, breaking up long segments of speech into more manageable segments. In both cases, we now are getting some visuals to go with the audio. This is better!

She stared at him, her breath choppy.

Tahir felt her breath on his lips, which meant she was far too close to him. He couldn’t look away. He didn’t want to.

The rage in her eyes faded to confusion. Pink dusted her cheeks. She looked down and leaned back, away from him. “I’m sorry.”

Randy sez: This has now been broken from 2 paragraphs into 3, and we are now seeing the entire thing. In yesterday’s version, the pace moved from “showing” to “telling” to “showing” again which seemed a bit choppy to me. Today, it remained almost completely “showing” with a bit of a transition at the very end, when we see things summarized a bit: The rage “fades to confusion” which takes a bit of time, as dust “pink dusting her cheeks”. This transition is a lot more natural.

Katie asked this question:

The “far too close to him” seems a bit like a motivation, but since she isn’t moving, he’s just noticing her closeness, I placed it as a reaction. Is this correct?

Randy sez: Actually, he’s making a logical deduction, so this is interior monologue, and is therefore part of his Reaction. Katie, you’ve made just a couple of tweaks to this section and I think it now reads quite a bit better. Very good!