Day 35: Narrative Situation Part 1

The narrative situation of a story consists of the fictional circumstances we can create when we begin to consider how we will present our story to readers. As film and literary critic Seymour Chatman explains, narrative situation is “how the illusion is achieved. By what convention does a spectator or reader accept the idea that it is ‘as if’ he were personally there on the scene, though he comes to it by sitting in a chair in a theater or by turning pages and reading words.” I think of the narrative situation as a story the writer tells themselves and sometimes the audience to explain the existence of the story. It provides useful constraints to help us make decisions and stay on track. It is directly connected to the story’s essence and its primary message. 

One of the most important macro choices we have to make is point of view. Point of view describes the mode of presentation (first person, third person omniscient, etc.), but it’s really about perspective. From what perspective are the events of the story presented? This includes when and where but also from what level of experience and knowledge, and through what worldview. 

To begin to wrap our minds around this concept, it helps to understand that a story is communication. Communication simply involves someone sending a message to someone else. With a story, we’re thinking about this on multiple levels.

First, the writer presents the story to a mass audience of readers. Knowing a little about the audience will eliminate some options that won’t work for our story. For example, if I’m writing middle grade fantasy fiction, my ideal reader might be a ten-year-old girl. With that assumption, I know I shouldn’t include expletives in the dialogue. That’s important, but it doesn’t immediately help me to make decisions like which events do I need to dramatize in the story, in what order should I present them, and within those scenes, what details of the characters and story world are relevant? That’s where the narrative situation comes into play.

Let’s take a couple of clear examples. 

  • Bridget Jones’s Diary is a story presented in the form of a diary that Bridget keeps to keep track of how well she is sticking to her New Years resolutions. It’s a contemporaneous account of her life that Bridget writes to and for herself. 

  • Treasure Island is presented as an account by Jim Hawkins of his encounter with pirates for the authorities after he returns home safely. 

In both of these stories, the writer has made up a situation that explains the existence of the story, and they have chosen to share that with readers. The narrative situations create constraints that help the writer make decisions. 

In future posts, I’ll continue exploring narrative situation and how we can use it to make effective story decisions.


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 34: Thinking about the Primary Force of Antagonism

Photo by Denise Chan on Unsplash

In the day 29 post, I wrote about how we can identify key aspects of the story world and elaborated on that in the day 31 post. In the day 30 post, I wrote about the key details of the protagonist. Using these exercises, we’re expanding the initial premise (a person in a place with a problem) so that we can write a coherent story where all the parts align and support sending the message we want to send. 

In this post, I’ll consider the primary force of antagonism (the person, group, or thing acting in opposition to the protagonist) that creates change and puts a fundamental human need at stake, forcing the protagonist to grow and transform. The primary force of antagonism is what causes the problem of the premise. This antagonist force could be an individual villain, an oppressive system, or even the hostile environment itself. That’s why we talk about forces of antagonism. It’s as if there is an unseen force moving through the world and characters and causes change that the protagonist must confront through a problem they must solve.

As we think about forces of antagonism, it’s useful to begin with what we think is the source of most of the bad things that happen in the world. We can also ask the question this way: What force of antagonism threatens our human needs the most? We live in a complex world where it’s difficult to get to the root cause, but we often have beliefs that we may or may not be aware of about what causes the most pain for the most people. (Asking why five times is a useful tactic here.) When we’ve figured this out, we’ll want to find a way to incorporate this into our story’s forces of antagonism.

With all of this in mind, we identify the five to ten fundamental characteristics of the primary force of antagonism in our story. We’re looking for details that express the vision of the story’s essence and support sending the message we want to send. We want to find the details that make the antagonistic force the right one for this story. 

Keep in mind that the forces of antagonism identified below do not represent the only antagonism the protagonist faces in the story, but they are the primary force creating the problem and driving conflict. 

Examples

  • The Hobbit - Thorin 

    • He and the dwarves are homeless. Losing his homeland grounds Thorin’s vengeful motivation.

    • He is the leader who decides the priorities and strategies for the group. His leadership drives the perilous quest.

    • He feels entitled to the treasure they seek, and this entitlement/greed blinds him, endangering the other dwarves and Bilbo, as well as the wood elves and men living near the Lonely Mountain. 

    • He is stubborn and prideful. His scornful pride isolates the dwarves from potential allies, who are all in danger. 

    • His obsession over the Arkenstone damages friendships.

  • Pride and Prejudice - Societal Norms

    • People belong to rigid economic/social classes, and it is easy to fall but difficult to rise in society.

    • People are expected to socialize with and, therefore, marry within their own social class instead of for love.

    • Failure to follow society's norms, from the silly behavior of Mrs. Bennet at public occasions to Lydia's running off with Wickham, indicates immorality by which people are judged.

    • People can be judged by the actions of their family members and close associates.

    • Women lack power, and to survive and thrive in this time most must marry.

  • The Body in the Library - Josie Turner

    • She is of the working class, and her ability to earn a wage is dependent on staying healthy and pleasing the owner/manager of the Majestic Hotel.

    • She has grown dissatisfied and impatient with her working class status and lifestyle, spurring her risky scheming for a quick elevation in status.

    • As an experienced performer, she is adept at concealing her true thoughts/motives behind a façade and giving people what they want in order to avoid suspicion.

    • As an experienced card player, she thinks strategically about the long game, reading adversaries, bluffing at key moments, and ultimately winning through skill rather than luck.

    • She identifies and takes advantage of opportunities (e.g., putting Ruby forth as her temporary replacement to keep the job in the family, but also forming a relationship with Gaskell who could inherit money from Conway).


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 33: Opening Lines Exercises Part 2

In the day 18 post, I offered some thoughts on crafting opening lines. In the day 32 post, I broke down three types of opening lines (focus on action, character, or story world) from three stories to identify the elements communicated to the reader. In this post, I’ll use details from my own story idea to craft opening lines based on the examples. 

Here are a few of caveats: First, this exercise is not exactly like comparing apples to apples because my story’s premise and essence are different from those of the example stories. Also, my story idea will be realistic historical fiction, and the example stories are fantasy stories. Finally, the story examples would be considered middle grade fiction, and my story’s main audience will be adults. These differences will mean I need to make subtle alterations in the execution of the lines. Still, it’s been a useful exercise to see what’s emphasized in the examples and what it would be for my story idea. 

Action: A sailing master was endeavoring to stay alert on a starless night. 

This line captures the essence of the action-focused opening. It introduces a character (who is not the main protagonist) engaged in a specific action with a goal, and sets the scene (dark night at sea). The use of endeavoring implies a struggle, which creates tension. It's concise and (I hope) intriguing, much like the dragon example from Wings of Fire, “A dragon was trying to hide in the storm.”

To suggest the stakes more clearly because it’s not fully evident from the line as written, I might revise the sentence this way: A sailing master was endeavoring to stay alert on a starless Caribbean night, aware that a moment's lapse could doom the convoy.

Character: This story begins in the quarters of the Commander-in-Chief of His Majesty's Ships and Vessels in the West Indies in Kingston, Jamaica, with the delivery of Admiralty orders to a ship's commander. A newly promoted commander. The most junior commander and the only one available to escort fifty-six merchant ships across the Atlantic Ocean to Great Britain.

This character-focused opening closely mirrors the structure of The Tale of Despereaux example. “This story begins within the walls of a castle with the birth of a mouse. A small mouse. The last mouse born to his parents and the only one of his litter to be born alive.” 

It introduces the setting, the inception of the story about to be told (delivery of orders), and key information about the protagonist. The relevant quality of the character is not his physical stature, but his inexperience in this role. The repetition of "commander" emphasizes this role, similar to the repetition of mouse in the original example. The role of a commander is to carry out orders (commands or orders that are given to him) and to command his subordinates (including junior officers and sailors and the merchant captains). Lawford is struggling with this at the outset as the merchant captains do not follow orders, and as a result, he is unable to carry out the orders that kick off the story. 

Story World: In the Caribbean Sea during the French Revolutionary Wars, where rogue winds and strong currents could send a ship off track on a dark night and French patrols lie in wait for unfortunate vessels, it is quite unfortunate to be the commander escorting a large convoy in a small, fifth-rate frigate. It is well established that the mission could fail for a dozen different reasons, any of which will be blamed on you and adjudicated at a court martial. 

This opening adapts the style of the Howl's Moving Castle example: “In the land of Ingary, where such things as seven-league boots and cloaks of invisibility really exist, it is quite a misfortune to be born the eldest of three. Everyone knows you are the one who will fail first, and worst, if the three of you set out to seek your fortunes.”

This opening establishes the setting, time period, and key challenges of the story world. The use of second-person perspective in the second sentence closely mirrors the original example, putting the reader in the protagonist's shoes.

These are what I would call strong working drafts and not final products. As I’ve written before, we usually nail down the opening lines of a story near the end of the work because it must hook the reader while promising the entire story in a (usually) concise sentence or paragraph (but see the opening of A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens). 

I’m still at the very beginning of planning the Wreck of the Ten Sail story idea, and there are many things to work out before I begin drafting. Still, if I can compose opening lines that capture the essence of the story I want to tell, this is great way to focus my planning efforts and help me to stay on course. 

When looking for great models of opening lines for my story in particular, I would look at historical nautical fiction, especially stories that deal with salvage operations or heists which are similar in form (e.g., Hornblower and the Atropos by C.S. Forester and Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson), but also stories in other genres with salvage or redemption themes (e.g., Mistborn: The Final Empire by Brandon Sanderson or The Little Paris Book Shop by Nina George). I would also analyze my favorite stories, especially those that were compelling to me right from the start, even if they are quite different from my story (e.g., The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien, 2 A.M. at the Cat’s Pajamas by Marie-Helene Bertino, or Black Swan Green by David Mitchell). 

Wreck of the Ten Sail story development posts can be found here: day 10, day 11, day 12, day 13, day 19, day 21, day 26, and day 27.

As you read these posts on how I’m developing my story idea, consider how I’m thinking through the problems of understanding what I want to express in the story and planning the story elements so I can write a coherent draft. The process is much more useful than my specific results.


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 32: Opening Line Exercise Part 1

In the day 18 post, I offered some thoughts on crafting opening lines. While thinking about this again recently, I thought of an exercise that may help in the discovery process. If we take a few of the great examples of opening lines and plug in our story details to try them on for size, we may produce some instructive results.  

So while I’m not ready to consider opening lines for my Wreck of the Ten Sail story idea, I will take a crack at possible opening lines based on the examples from the first post on this topic. First, I want to break down the elements of the examples I shared. 

Here are those examples with the elements I’ve identified:

  • Action: “A dragon was trying to hide in the storm.” —Wings of Fire: The Dragonet Prophecy by Tui T. Sutherland

    • The subject of the sentence is a type of individual (dragon), but they are not identified by name. Because I’m familiar with the story, I know that the dragon referenced who is trying to hide is not the protagonist. 

    • The action shows that the individual is actively engaged in pursuing a specific goal. Note that hiding creates intrigue. We don’t know who or what the character us hiding from. 

    • The weather is the context. The storm adds drama. It could help or hinder the character.

  • Character(s): “This story begins within the walls of a castle with the birth of a mouse. A small mouse. The last mouse born to his parents and the only one of his litter to be born alive.”  —The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo

    • The work is explicitly identified as a story, and we’re directed toward its inception.

    • Though the overall focus is on a character, we’re given the location and an event in the first sentence. The character is the protagonist, though we don’t know that yet, and he’s unnamed.

    • The contrast of the castle and the mouse begins to emphasize the character’s size.

    • The second sentence provides a physical feature of the character. We would typically assume this is the most important physical characteristic. 

    • A mouse is typically small, so this one must be extraordinarily so. The repetition of mouse emphasizes the character’s identity.

    • In the final sentence, we learn where he fits within his family. Because of the prior sentence’s setup, we can assume his parents will not be thrilled about his birth. 

  • Story world: “In the land of Ingary, where such things as seven-league boots and cloaks of invisibility really exist, it is quite a misfortune to be born the eldest of three. Everyone knows you are the one who will fail first, and worst, if the three of you set out to seek your fortunes.” —Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynn Jones

    • In the first sentence, we learn the story’s setting and two unique facts that tells us the story is intended for someone unfamiliar with it. 

    • The facts also convey that this is a fantasy story. 

    • The rest of that first sentence tells us the way misfortune works in this world.

    • The second sentence uses second person point of view to elaborate on this truth. This is immediately helping us to put ourselves in the shoes of the protagonist who has not yet been introduced, but also establishes a conversational tone, as if the story is being spoken rather than written. 

In another post, I’ll apply these elements to aspects of my Wreck of the Ten Sail idea.


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 31: Relevant Characteristics of the Story World

Simon Berger on Unsplash

In the day 29 post, I asked about the five to ten characteristics of a story world and offered three examples. In part we’re thinking about the way we set up different kinds of conflict that affect the pursuit of what we need as humans. It helps to consider the qualities of the story world we need to allow the forces of antagonism to threaten the needs of the protagonist and other characters. But we shouldn’t forget the qualities of the world that make it possible for the protagonist and other characters to meet those needs. 

The human needs we’ll want to consider include those in Maslow’s Hierarchy: survival, safety, belonging/connection, respect/esteem, self-actualization, and transcendence. It’s true that the problem and primary force of antagonism will emphasize one of those needs in particular. But stories are engaged in the transmission of knowledge, which means, the protagonist and other characters will need to contend with needs that at least appear to be in conflict.

Here are some questions to help develop the story world. 

  • World Foundation: Is there a clear starting point or analogue (e.g., Victorian era for Steampunk, modern day for contemporary fiction, near future for some science fiction)? This is like a sourdough starter for your story world.  

  • Physical laws: How do physics, magic, or other fundamental rules operate in this world? If the story is realistic, this will likely be the same as in our world. If the story is a fantasy, like The Stormlight Archive by Brandon Sanderson, you’ll need to consider what’s different. 

  • Geography and environment: What is the terrain, climate, and physical setting? How will this environment affect the pursuit of needs?

  • Technology and innovation: What tools, inventions, or advancements exist? The existence of mobile phones, for example, changes so many other behaviors and what’s possible. 

  • Social structure: What hierarchies, rules, and norms govern society? Here, we’re interested in unwritten norms that dictate behavior in addition to enacted laws. For example, in contemporary life, most people respect a red velvet rope when they encounter one, even though it’s not a sturdy obstacle. 

  • Economics and scarcity: What resources are valued? What is plentiful and therefore cheap? What is scarce and therefore expensive or difficult to obtain? Here’s an interesting example: In the world of The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck, fuel is so cheap that it’s more efficient to keep a tractor running during lunch than to restart it.

  • Causality: How does cause and effect operate? Are there unique consequences to certain actions? If there is a system of magic, for example, how does it impact cause and effect?

  • Cultural dynamics: What are the belief systems, traditions, and cultural practices? How difficult is it to move up in society?

  • Power dynamics: Who holds authority, on what basis, and how is it exercised?

  • Outsider experience: How does the world treat newcomers or those who don’t fit in?

  • Conflict sources: What conditions give rise to the primary forces of antagonism?

  • Change catalysts: What factors can incite change in this world (e.g., external threats, internal pressures)?

  • Political structure: How is the political system organized? What are its rules?

  • Access Points: How do characters enter or exit the main setting? Are their limitations?

  • Character-World Relationship: How does the world interact with or reflect its inhabitants?

  • Internal Logic: What makes sense in this world that might not make sense in other worlds? 

  • Challenges and dangers: What threats exist in this world?


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 30: Thinking about the Protagonist

Character descriptions often focus on information that is interesting and even captivating but won’t necessarily assist the writer to send a clear signal with their story. We’re looking for details that enact the vision of the story’s essence and support sending the message that’s most important to us. What does that mean? We want to find the details that make our protagonist the right one for this story. 

Just as we ask about the important qualities of the story world, we ask, what are five to ten important qualities of the protagonist? Consider why the aspects listed below matter to these stories. 

Examples

  • The Hobbit - Bilbo

    • He’s a hobbit, a small and peaceful group of people who enjoy the comforts of home.

    • Bilbo is at the top of the social hierarchy in Hobbiton and leads a quiet, conventional, and comfortable life. 

    • His father is a Baggins (very respectable); his mother is a Took (attracted to adventures). 

    • He is a 50-year-old bachelor but is not yet elderly. 

    • He has a family connection to Gandalf. 

  • Pride and Prejudice - Elizabeth Bennet

    • She is single. 

    • She is the second of five sisters. 

    • She and her sisters can’t inherit her father’s estate. 

    • She lives in Meryton where there are few unmarried men of good fortune. 

    • She has firm ideas about who would and would not make a good husband. 

  • The Body in the Library - Miss Jane Marple

    • She is an unmarried elderly woman. 

    • She has lived in the small village of St. Mary Mead for a long time.

    • She is well-connected within her village, with acquaintances in different levels of society. 

    • She has several nieces and nephews.

    • She is curious about human nature. 


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 29: World-Building

I’m still recovering from being sick, so today I’ll share a couple of questions about world-building and offer examples from great stories.  Where and when is the story set? What are five to ten important qualities of the world in these stories? Consider why the aspects listed below are relevant.  

  • The Hobbit: Middle Earth in its third age. In the context of the larger story, this is about 60 years before the beginning of The Lord of the Rings. (Bilbo turns 51 during The Hobbit and celebrates his 111th birthday at the beginning of The Fellowship of the Ring). 

    • A world with magical beings and objects.

    • Historically safe travel paths have grown more perilous recently due to a rising lawless evil. 

    • Insular factions avoid cultural blending despite a largely shared history.

    • Overarching conceit of diminutive heroism rising. 

    • Corrupting seductions of power amongst “moral races.” The fading strength of Gondor and lack of unified leadership in the North contributes to a power vacuum where corruption creeps in and spreads. 

    • Cyclical oscillations between darkness and light.  

    • The world is in danger of tipping into chaos from which it would be very difficult to recover..

  • Pride and Prejudice: Fictional town of Meryton, England during the Regency era, in the 1790s (contextual details of calling the militia and style of dress narrows the time window).

    • Strict rules of etiquette comprise the culture’s unwritten social code. 

    • Rigid class structure is encoded in the laws and customs around inheritance and marriage prospects. 

    • The lack of opportunities to pursue education or work and to inherit property means women typically must marry to survive and thrive in the environment.

    • Subtly shifting economic mobility allows some deviation from birth order destiny.

    • Provincial village microcosms reflect broader aristocratic assumptions, and the bucolic country life harbors secrets beneath tranquil facades.

    • Order/chaos balance is weighted toward enforced stability. 

  • The Body in the Library: St Mary Mead, England in 1936 (reference to King Edward VIII allow us to pinpoint the year). Note the social DNA here is similar to Austen’s Meryton, but we need to look at the differences that are specific to the environment and the story.

    • Rules of etiquette are similar though subtly changed. Keeping up with appearances and reputation are still vital to social standing.  

    • Rigid social structure is a little looser in the time after WWI when increasingly democratic processes allow merit-based social mobility. 

    • Imposing Victorian country houses harbor aristocratic life now in decline.

    • Secrets fuel gossip as a pastime, enabling neighbors to feel superior.

    • Servant class networks (and others like Marple who are paying attention) observe others while being barely visible themselves.

    • Post-World War I, there are subtle changes in gender roles and sexuality. 

    • Rising middle class members blur the sharp money-birth distinctions. 

    • Mass media spreads ideas of American glamor and social mobility. 

    • Crime/parallel economy offers a different means to rise in social status.

    • World in danger of tipping toward being overly ordered.


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 28: The Story's Main Message

I’m posting a short piece tonight because I’m recovering from being sick (nothing major, but I’m a bit run down).

A story’s main message is the cause-and-effect statement that a writer sends through the action the protagonist takes in the story’s climax (cause) and the story’s resolution (effect). 

Here an example from The Tale of Peter Rabbit: We survive when we are willing to take a risk to escape a villain.

This message is an assertion or an argument, not the objective truth. The story is evidence for the argument, and the reader can decide for themselves. 

Stories are very persuasive because they put us in an almost hypnotic state, what I call the narrative dream. We sometimes accept the assertion without evidence so long as it resonates with us on some level. 

As writers we’re responsible for the messages in the stories we write and share. As readers, it’s useful to consider the messages we’re receiving in the stories we read.


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 27: Problem Assessment Part 4

Today, I’m responding to more of the questions I’ve generated to assess the problem of the Wreck of the Ten Sale story idea. These are rough notes to help me make sure the problem is aligned with the story essence as I’ve defined it: "A young captain facing a catastrophic failure must navigate not just treacherous waters, but also human nature and his own limitations, to find a new way forward and leave a positive mark on the world."

Thematic Resonance Check: Consider the major themes suggested by the essence—resilience, leadership, redemption—and evaluate how well the problem explores them.

Resilience

Resilience is the capacity to recover or adapt after things go wrong. In the same way that our muscles and bones are stronger from the stress of exercise, everything that happens to us—good and bad—can be grist for the mill of transformation. This requires a level of maturity to face what is as we find it rather than resisting and wishing things were different. 

In facing this potentially career-ending crisis, Lawford is forcing his mind to adapt immediately to a new set of challenges. The two missions—to escort and to rescue and salvage—are very different undertakings. He must quickly solve large problems involving hundreds of people and few resources. 

He must retool in the physical environment by using what he has available to salvage vessels that are two miles offshore. He must retool mentally to take stock, prioritize, and create a plan even as he is arriving on the beach in life a boat after abandoning his ship. There is no time to mull over the transition, and he alone is responsible for the life of each sailor and officer and the property damage. This is what’s required when a leader faces catastrophic failure.

The physical challenges are exciting, but I’m most interested in how we adapt our thinking when life throws us an unexpected curveball. This seems very relevant to contemporary readers because the world is changing so quickly. 

Leadership

The kind of leadership I’m exploring is not about a title, position, or uniform, but the behavior of someone in carrying out their duties. True leaders consider the welfare of everyone and prioritize according to values rather than their own selfish desires. Stressful situations test how committed we are to our values. 

Lawford must weigh the well-being of his officers and crew, the merchant ship officers and crew, and the locals on the island. With so many people to consider, every decision will be complicated. He could use his authority to take what little the locals had, and that might be tempting in the short term. By seeking aid for all concerned, he is playing a long game. 

Redemption

Redemption is about repairing, restoring, and making others whole after things go wrong. I want to explore how we make a positive effort and leave things better than we found them—no matter the circumstances. This is an additional constraint that requires more resilience and greater leadership.

There are two things operating here for me. First, if everyone leaves things a little better than they found them, things tend to be better for everyone. I’m reminded of the request to wipe out the sink in the bathroom on a plane. We’re all in this together, and we ought to act like it. That means sharing what we’ve learned with others and not keeping a story to ourselves that could help someone else. 

Second, no one achieves anything worthwhile without the good will and action of others. For example, without the excellent scholarship of Margaret E. Leshikar-Denton and the work of the Stuff You Missed in History Class Podcast, I probably would never would have heard of this historical event that has become so meaningful to me. 

The situation involved in this story should present Lawford with opportunities to offer his unique gifts unconditionally or selfishly withhold them. It is tempting to consider only our own needs and desires when things go wrong. I want to set up circumstances that force Lawford to make the hard choice over and over. 

Wreck of the Ten Sail story development posts: Day 10, Day 11, Day 12, Day 13, Day 19, Day 21, and Day 26


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share. 

Day 26: Continuing to Assess the Problem Part 3

Photo by WEB AGENCY on Unsplash

Today, I’m responding to more of the questions I’ve generated to assess the problem of the Wreck of the Ten Sale story idea. 

Growth Potential: Identify how the problem sets up opportunities for the protagonist to grow in ways that align with the story’s essence. 

  • How might the rescue and salvage efforts push Lawford to find "a new way forward"?

Lawford will find a way forward in part by repurposing people, equipment, and his own skills. Thematically, I like this because his ship, HMS Convert, was once a French ship (Inconstante) taken as a prize a few months before the voyage and repurposed as a British. For a large part of the story, Lawford will not be commanding a ship but will be  engaged in the salvage effort. To repurpose, he will have to change the way he sees everyone and everything around him, including himself. He can’t be stuck in rigid thinking or outdated models of his world. 

  • What aspects of the problem could lead Lawford to "leave a positive mark on the world"?

Once the locals became aware of the hundreds of survivors who landed on their shore, they communicated with Lawford that he needed to leave as soon as possible. As a result, Lawford sent as many of his crew members as could fit to the nine merchant ships that had waited. Those ships were sent to the nearest friendly port for help, including food and other necessary supplies. While waiting, Lawford and the members of his crew who remained salvaged equipment and stores from the ships through the use of local boats. This would relieve some of the pressure on the local population initially. The aid that arrives from Cuba and later Jamaica could be used to restore what was lost in the hurricane that came the prior October. 

In addition, after this wreck sailing charts will include more specific cautions to help other ships avoid the reef in the future. 

  • What external and internal needs from Maslow’s Hierarchy is Lawford forced to consider as a result of the problem?

    • Survival: Lawford must see to the survival needs of the people in his care, which includes the local people. 

    • Safety: Ships and cargo. Lawford must secure as much cargo and equipment as possible. The ships were likely carrying cargo needed (even if indirectly) in the war effort. Safety is also at stake because French ships will be in the area. The salvage mission will have to be efficient to ensure safety.  

    • Belonging/Connection: The stress of the failed escort mission could strain relationships between Lawford, his officers, the crew members.

    • Respect/esteem: The shipwreck represents a failure. Lawford will need to metabolize this setback and find a new definition of success. He will need to fulfill his duties with honor in order to continue his career and maintain the respect of his peers and superiors. 

    • Self-Actualization: Lawford will need to change the way he sees everyone and everything around him. 

    • Transcendence: Lawford will consider how to balance his own needs with those of the people in his care. 

Wreck of the Ten Sail story development posts: Day 10, Day 11, Day 12, Day 13, Day 19, and Day 21


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words.

Day 25: Story Analysis Part 4

Looking at and Looking through a story

When we read a story, we’re looking through it and at the characters, world, and events. We read words and sentences that magically conjure up a virtual reality within our minds. When the storytelling is done well, we fall into a narrative dream, transported from our reading chair to the Regency era, Mars, Middle Earth, or anytime and anywhere. 

When we study a story, we look at it. We read the text that creates the illusion of characters, world, and events. We are transported, not to the story world, but to the mind of the writer who created the story. The story is an artifact that allows us to travel along as an apprentice to a master craftsperson. The text itself is our mentor and reveals more than the human writer could about how they accomplished their task. 

How do we do this? We read a lot including stories we’re not naturally drawn to. We stay open and curious as we sift through the details. We consider the options available to the writer and the possible reasons for their choices while withholding judgment. We gain other perspectives on the same story by hearing what others have to say about it. Above all, we question our assumptions about what we see and what it means to us.

As we study the minds of other writers, we are simultaneously studying our own minds. We notice our reaction and ask why. We consider how we might handle the same situation differently. In this way, we take our first steps toward being in conversation with the writers we admire. And when we share our own story that explores a similar territory, we join the universal, eternal conversation about human life. 

This makes me think of a favorite line from Professor Henry Higgins’s in My Fair Lady: “I know your head aches. I know you're tired. I know your nerves are as raw as meat in a butcher's window. But think what you're trying to accomplish—just think what you're dealing with. The majesty and grandeur of the English language; it's the greatest possession we have. The noblest thoughts that ever flowed through the hearts of men are contained in its extraordinary, imaginative and musical mixtures of sounds. And that's what you've set yourself out to conquer, Eliza. And conquer it you will.” 

If we change the language to story, it describes the challenge we’ve accepted. If we think too much about the seriousness of our undertaking, we could psych ourselves out. So hold it lightly, but don’t ever forget that as a writer you are participating in the pursuit and sharing of wisdom

If you’d like to join a cohort of writers actively engaged in this conversation, studying storytelling together, raise your hand by filling in the form below.


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words.

Day 24: Story Analysis Part 3

In my posts on days 22 and 23,I shared my analysis of a simple short story to help show the way we shift from thinking as readers to thinking as writers. This post offers more thoughts on how to draw insights from the text of a story. (For more information on literal action and essential action, see A Practical Handbook for the Actor by Bruder, Cohn, Olnek, Pollack, Previto, and Zigler.)

As a reminder, literal action is what the characters are doing or what we could be observe them doing and saying. We spot these actions by making note of the external actions (verbs) that happen in a scene or short story. 

For example, in the opening paragraphs of The Tale of Peter Rabbit, Mrs. Rabbit speaks (said), took (an umbrella and basket, very sensible), went, and bought.

In response, Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail went while Peter ran and squeezed. Once there, he eats a lot.

This can be tedious and fiddly work, but we already can make an interesting comparison between Mrs. Rabbit and the siblings, and Peter. The siblings went, which is just what their mother did. This is not an unintentional echo of went; it emphasizes that Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail are good bunnies following directions and the example set by their mother. 

Peter, whom we’re told is very naughty, ran and squeezed under the gate. He made a hasty decision and did precisely the opposite of what he’d been told and warned not to do. Notice that Beatrix Potter uses more specific verbs here and that Peter’s actions seem more exciting than that of his siblings. 

From these initial actions, we gain useful information. What the characters do in response to what they observe points to what they want and how they pursue that. 

  • Peter’s mother warns the children in response to the death of her husband and the need for food. She is trying to put her children on the right path because she wants them to stay safe.

  • Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail heed their mother’s warning. Their actions aren’t as specific as the other characters (also they act in unison). We can guess that they also want to stay safe, but the emphasis on “good little bunnies” suggests that they are seeking their mother’s approval.

  • Peter immediately disregards the warning, rushes into the garden without regard for his safety, and begins eating. He’s trying his luck because he doesn’t want to be constrained by his mother’s rules and wants the veggies in the garden. 

You can see how this is setting up conflict between Peter and his mother. The main conflict of the story is between Peter and McGregor, however.

  • McGregor, upon spotting Peter in his garden, jumps up, runs, waves his rake, and calls out, “Stop thief.” He is defending his patch because he wants to keep his vegetables. 

They both want the vegetables and can’t both get their way, setting up a scenario in which McGregor uses deadly force.

When we understand what the characters want and how they are pursuing it, we can make character behavior consistent over time and show change in those who transform. And, just as important, we can fill our stories with conflict to keep readers engaged.


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words.

Day 23: Story Analysis Part 2

In my day 22 post, I shared an analysis of a simple short story to help show the way we begin to shift from reading for enjoyment to reading as writers. 

This analysis had three components:

  • Literal action

  • Essential action (conflict)

  • Change

With this information we know what happens (we can “see” the action), why it’s happening (the essence of the conflict between the protagonist and antagonist), and the most important change that happens. 

Writers show the conflict and change through what happens, or the literal action. In this story, we can summarize the literal action this way: Peter infiltrates, then escapes from McGregor’s garden. This brief description collapses specific events so we can think about them at a more macro level. Generally speaking, the verbs infiltrate and escape suggest that this is a story about someone who enters a dangerous labyrinth, where a villain runs the show, but manages to get home.

We can add some details to the literal action this way. 

Peter ignores his mother’s warning about his father’s death and enters McGregor’s garden. When Peter gets lost and stuck in the gooseberry net, then is nearly caught with a sieve, he runs past McGregor to the gate to escape. 

We’re unpacking “infiltrate and escape” with these two sentences and adding some qualifiers. For example, Peter wasn’t only entering the garden, he was ignoring a warning as he did so. We’re also adding specificity to the obstacles Peter faces in getting back home. He gets lost, stuck, and nearly caught. 

How can we unpack this even further in a useful way that helps us understand cause and effect from beginning to end?

  • Peter’s mother reminds her children of an ongoing threat—their father entered McGregor’s garden, was killed, and put into a pie. Peter’s actions in infiltrating the garden show us he doesn’t take it seriously, a clue to his essential action. 

  • Running from McGregor, Peter gets caught in a gooseberry net as the farmer approaches with a sieve. Peter realizes the threat was real, which is vital to his survival, but now he’s stuck in the garden. He can choose to hide or run past McGregor. Either way, he risks his father’s fate. 

  • Peter runs for the gate. (Notice, he is able to ignore the food, what he wants, this time.)

  • Peter escapes the garden (labyrinth), but he is ill and doesn’t get to have dinner with his family. In other words, he survives, but doesn’t come through it unscathed. He is, however, wiser about the threat McGregor presents. 

How can we summarize all of these actions in a brief and meaningful statement?

Peter is safe but ill when, after he is almost caught, he runs right past McGregor to the gate, despite the risk he’ll be grabbed and killed.

This process of breaking down a story helps us understand the decisions the writer made while crafting the story. We use the text and what literally happens to identify the essence of the conflict and the change that occurs. 

When we write our own stories, we can work in the other direction. With a clear understanding of the conflict and change we want to show, we can imagine specific literal actions the characters can take to do that. We uncover the conflict and change by building on our story’s essence.


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't always give me enough space to cover these topics

Day 22: Story Analysis

In my day 17 post, I wrote about the importance of studying stories. To develop as storytellers, we move beyond our pure enjoyment of a story to consider why and how it works. We use different lenses to look at the layers within a story and how they work together. Three important lenses include what’s literally happening, what the essence of that action is, and what changes as a result of the action. 

Here’s an analysis of The Tale of Peter Rabbit to show how to apply these three story lenses to a short story. You can find the text of the story here.

What are the characters literally doing in the story?

Literal actions are what we observe the characters doing and saying. It’s what we could see and hear if we were watching the story as a play. (For more on this, see A Practical Handbook for the Actor.)

Peter infiltrates, then escapes from McGregor’s garden. 

Peter ignores his mother’s warning about his father’s death and enters McGregor’s garden. When Peter gets lost and stuck in the gooseberry net, then is nearly caught with a sieve, he runs past McGregor to the gate to escape.  

What are the essential actions of the major players?

Essential actions express the essence of character. It describes what a character does because of what they want. We focus on the protagonist and the primary antagonist to get a sense of the conflict. When we understand this, we can think of literal actions they might do to enact their essential action.(For more on this, see A Practical Handbook for the Actor.)

Peter is “trying his luck” because he wants vegetables.

McGregor is “defending his patch” because he wants to keep his vegetables.

What changes from the beginning to the end of the story as a result of the action?

There are many changes that happen from the beginning to the end, but what we want to isolate is the most relevant change. This helps us to consider what the author is trying to dramatize through the story.

Threatened to Safe but ill

In the beginning of the story we learn that a dangerous farmer lives near the Rabbit home and that he killed Peter’s father. Peter initially ignores the threat and goes boldly into the garden, gorging himself on vegetables. He chooses what he wants (vegetables) over what he needs (survival) because he doesn’t believe he will be caught. After he is caught, not by McGregor but the gooseberry bush, Peter realizes he too could be put in a pie. He recognizes he must sacrifice what he wants for what he needs. Because he runs past McGregor to the gate, he survives, though he has an upset tummy.


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words.

Day 21: Continuing to Assess the Story Problem Part 2

In the Day 13 post, I explored the problem of the premise of my story based on the Wreck of the Ten Sail. My goal was to better understand the problem and to make sure it aligns with my story’s essence. In the Day 19 post, I continued exploring this area by answering a few more questions about the story. 

In this post, I’ll share more questions that have come up during writing practice sessions to help me further explore the problem and external and internal conflict for the story. These questions are specific to the story I’m developing. You can use them to think about how I’m connecting the problem (the wreck of ten ships the protagonist is responsible for) and elements of the story’s essence ("A young captain facing a catastrophic failure must navigate not just treacherous waters, but also human nature and his own limitations, to find a new way forward and leave a positive mark on the world").

Growth Potential: Identify how the problem sets up opportunities for the protagonist to grow in ways that align with the story’s essence. 

  • How might the rescue and salvage efforts push Lawford to find "a new way forward"?

  • What aspects of the problem could lead him to "leave a positive mark on the world"?

  • What external and internal needs is Lawford forced to consider as a result of the problem?

Thematic Resonance Check: Consider the major themes suggested by the essence (e.g., resilience, leadership, redemption) and evaluate how well the problem explores them. 

Essence-Problem Amplification: Make a list of ways to amplify aspects of the problem that most strongly connect to the essence. For example, can I enhance the "human nature" conflicts or further highlight Lawford's personal limitations?

Counterpoint Analysis: Are any elements of the problem disconnected from the essence? Are these necessary complications, or potential distractions? This is getting at whether the aspects of the problem are truly aligned with the story essence. 

Stakes Evaluation: Assess whether the stakes of the problem (both external and internal) align with what’s implied by the story’s essence. In other words, does the problem create enough pressure to force the kind of growth and change suggested by "finding a new way forward"?

Character-Essence Alignment: What do I think Lawford’s initial response to the problem will be? How well do Lawford's character traits, as revealed by this initial response to the problem, align with the essence. Does his approach to the rescue and salvage reflect a character capable of the journey described in the essence?

Setting-Essence Integration: Consider how the environment contributes to exploring the essence through the problem. Are there untapped opportunities to use the setting more effectively?

Resolution Pathway: Without planning the story’s ending, consider potential resolutions to the problem. By what means will Lawford solve the problem? Do this naturally point toward fulfilling the promise of the essence, particularly "leaving a positive mark on the world"?

By considering these questions, I’m hoping to gain a deeper understanding of how well my problem aligns with and serves the story's essence. This process may also cause me to refine either the problem or the essence statement to create a more cohesive foundation for my story.


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words.

Day 20: A Closer Look at Story Essence

This post is part of my ongoing effort to articulate what a story’s essence is, why it is useful, how we identify it, and what we do with it after that. To do that, I may revisit territory I’ve already covered in this writing challenge series. One way to gain multiple perspectives on the same idea is to write about it at different times using different prompts. When we do this, we’re training our minds to slow down and look more closely. It’s as if we’ve driven a stretch of road several times, and now we’re going to get out of the car and walk, which enables us to observe the details that usually fly by unobserved. 

The Story’s Essence

A story's essence is the distillation of what's most important to you about your story, captured in a clear, pithy statement. It's not the story itself, just as an essential oil isn't the plant it comes from. Rather, it's a fractal of the entire narrative, encapsulating its meaning to you as the writer.

Every story—fiction or nonfiction—begins as a thought, sensation, or experience. This is a spark that is a response to something we’ve sensed in some way. In a way, it’s a response to everything we’ve ever encountered. That spark is the story’s essence, what we want to convey with our story. What is essential to the writer? That can be a mood, a character, a situation, a place, a problem. The essence by itself is not a story, though it can feel like a full-blown story in the mind of the writer. 

Narrative Cartography: From Essence to Coherent Story

We need a way to convert this essence into a coherent story readers love. Narrative Cartography is the process I’m developing to do just that. We distill the essence and build the elements around it so the story will express the essence. From this work, we create a map we can use to draft and revise a coherent story. 

A coherent story is one that functions as intended, with all its necessary parts aligned and working together so that the essence is transmitted from the mind of the writer to the mind of the reader. When that happens, when it works, the reader recognizes the work as a story and gains access to the essence we intended to communicate.

If we start drafting without understanding what we really want to say, we may have a series of interesting events that unfold in a logical and linear sequence, but the whole may not create the experience of a story. A coherent narrative conveys meaning because it is more than what happened. A story is what happened, why, and what the protagonist did about it told from a particular perspective. 

The Importance of Perspective

Perspective is vital. Perspective tells us from when and where the story is presented, but also through what lens and with what attitude toward the events. One way to get a feel for this is to watch multiple adaptations of the same written work. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë is instructive because there are so many versions. I recommend comparing the 2006 BBC television adaptation (written by Sandy Welch and directed by Susanna White) with the 2011 film (screenplay by Moira Buffini and directed by Cary Joji Fukunaga). The former is a faithful adaptation of Bronte’s novel, but the latter is a nonlinear presentation of the story. Why might the writer and director make this choice? 

My sense is that Buffini wanted to make a different point. My sense is that the intended message is Jane got lucky. It turned out that Rochester was a decent guy, but given all that happened (for example, his dishonesty and willingness to jeopardize Jane’s legal standing as his wife), she might have done as well to dismiss the ghostly voice that called her back to Rochester. I could be wrong about this, but it’s one reason to present the events out of order. 

Understanding Motivation

To write coherently we must understand what we want to say and how we plan present it. It helps us make the tens of thousands of decisions we must make and helps us stay the course when it gets tough because writing a story readers love is a lot of work. 

This is not just about choosing the story world, characters, and events, though they are important. It includes selecting the perspective and genre form we use to present it to an audience. I sometimes describe this as the clothes we want the story to wear. For example, Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn is the story of a marriage that’s in trouble, but the events are dressed up as a thriller with life and death stakes. The events are presented in the form of written narratives by the two main characters, Nick and Amy. They present the same events differently because they have different goals they want to accomplish. 

Here’s another way to think about it. When I go to the grocery store, I’m doing it to get food and other items I need. But I have a further goal that operates beneath what’s readily apparent. That deeper motivation or desire could be about getting through the week with minimum effort, providing meals that nourish my family, or expressing my creativity. The minimum effort trip might include frozen pizza and other instant meals. If my primary motivation is to nourish my family, I’ll fill my cart with healthy vegetables and fruits. There may be some overlap, but the deeper motivation will mean a different approach (time, attention, preparation) and different items in my shopping cart. If we tune into that motivation, we’ll have a more successful trip to the grocery store.

In the same way, when we unpack the inspiration for our story to understand what’s driving us, we can make more effective story choices that will communicate what we want to say. Aligning with our purpose increases the probability of a coherent story and one that readers love. 


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words.

Day 19: Continuing to Assess the Story's Problem

Image courtesy of Bigstock

In my Day 13 post, I explored the problem of my story’s premise to better understand it and to check if it aligns with my story’s essence. 

I asked and answered these questions:

  • What is the problem from your premise that your protagonist faces? In my Wreck of the Ten Sail example, the protagonist, William Lawford, must conduct a rescue and salvage mission after ten ships run aground off of Grand Cayman Island. 

  • Why is this a problem for the protagonist? Because his ship is wrecked, it means the mission is unsuccessful, and he will face a court martial inquiry into the loss of the ships. But his immediate problem is rescuing the sailors from the wrecked ship. They will need to be fed and housed until they can be evacuated. He must also see to the other vessels that didn’t run aground and begin a salvage mission to recover as much of the cargo as possible. 

  • What is the external source(s) of their problem? The environment including the ocean currents and weather pose a danger. The merchant captains are antagonists whose behavior meant some ships were lured onto the reef. The locals on Grand Cayman Island don’t have the resources to take in so many sailors and want them gone. French Navy ships or privateers could appear while the convoy is vulnerable.

  • How does the protagonist first become aware of this problem? During the voyage at night, one of the ships in the convoy signals for help because they have run aground.

Some good stuff came out of this exercise, and it all seems consistent with the problem and source. But it’s circular. I used the premise to nail down the story’s essence, and the premise includes the problem in brief. 

So how do we make this step meaningful? How can we check that the problem is working before we begin thinking about the events we use to dramatize the story’s essence? 

We use more questions to go a little deeper. 

First we consider how the elements of the story’s essence create tension or conflict within the problem. 

Note: The Wreck of the Ten Sail is a historic event that I’m using to jumpstart this story idea. I’m consulting research on the event, but because my story is fiction, I’ll be changing some of the details. 

Catastrophic failure: How does the wreck challenge Lawford's identity and self-perception?

Before the wreck, Lawford is a Royal Navy commander who has never failed in a mission or lost a ship. He’s been successful in his career. Obviously this doesn’t mean he’s never faced challenges or made mistakes, but losing ten ships in his care is a big deal. He will face a court martial where his performance will be reviewed in excruciating detail. This could be a career-ender. 

Lawford knows that if the merchant captains had followed his orders to the letter, it is likely the convoy would have sailed past Grand Cayman Island without incident. Still, as a conscientious person, Lawford will experience some doubts and replay all his actions based on what he knew at the time, what he should have known, and what he knows now. In many ways his own assessment of his conduct will be harsher than that of the court martial. The event will cause a crisis of confidence, and if he doesn’t metabolize the event and recover, he will not be able to salvage the cargo or his career. 

Treacherous waters: In what ways do the physical challenges mirror Lawford’s internal struggles?

  • The reef around one end of the island extends three-quarters of a mile from the island and lies near the surface of the water. At night, this is very difficult to spot. This is a great analogy for other obstacles Lawford can’t observe and therefore can’t plan for. He will need to learn to spot anomalies in people’s behavior faster in order to make wiser decisions in the future.

  • A strong current and weak winds act on ships passing by so that their actual location is not what they expect. Strong, unseen forces operate and exert pressure, and Lawford must become aware of them to avoid further trouble. The Admiralty, merchant captains, and other naval captains may have goals and concerns that are in conflict with what Lawford is trying to accomplish. 

  • The wind and currents prevent the other ships in the convoy from approaching to render aid in the morning following the wreck. The conditions that create the original problem continue to operate to make it harder to rescue crew members and salvage cargo and gear. So much is beyond Lawford’s control (environment and people), and he will need to find a way to work with these conditions if he’s going to be successful. In addition, he has no control how people will interpret the facts. The stories people tell about what happened will influence their behavior and his ability to solve the problem.

  • A recent hurricane has left the inhabitants of Grand Cayman without the resources to support the hundreds of survivors of the wrecked ships. The things Lawford needs to be successful are scarce. The station at Jamaica is hundreds of miles away, and he must wait for a friendly ship to happen by or send one of the merchant ships to get help. Lawford will have to improve his ability to take stock of what remains (people, food, wreckage, equipment) and make effective decisions quickly. 

Human nature: How do the various characters (crew, locals, merchant captains) complicate the rescue and salvage efforts?

Before the wreck, many of the characters have the same goal. Everyone wants the mission to be successful and to reach Britain as soon as possible. Once the wreck happens, the goals of certain individuals will change. 

  • Lawford needs to focus on rescue and salvage. To do this, he will need the cooperation of his own crew, the merchant captains and crews, and the locals.

  • The local people want the ships’ crews to leave right away. It’s already been explained that they lack resources to feed the hundreds of survivors. But it’s also true that the more cargo is left, the more they can recover after everyone is gone. 

  • The merchant captains (anc crews) whose ships were not wrecked are losing money while they wait for an escort to Britain. They may feel pity for their fellow seafarers, but their interests are best served by getting under weigh. Because Lawford’s ship was also wrecked, they lack a war ship to protect them from the vessels of other countries, so some may prefer to wait until another ship can escort them.

  • The merchant captains (and crews) whose ships were wrecked, depending on their cargo, may want to try to salvage as much as they can or travel to Britain or a local port to find another ship on which to serve. 

  • Lawford’s own crew members have a much more difficult job ahead of them than they anticipated. Survival is a strong motivator. They will work with Lawford so long as it is in their best interest, but some may desert. 

Individual limitations: What specific personal weaknesses or inexperience does this situation expose in Lawford?

  • The mission began as a challenging one, and now Lawford must work with a huge setback in terms of his work and reputation.

  • Lawford hasn’t known most of the people he must work with very well. He is newly arrived in the Caribbean, and his ship, HMS Convert is a recent prize acquisition from the French with a new crew. 

  • Lawford was unable to influence the merchant captains to follow his orders before the wreck. Afterward, some will be forced to work with him for their survival, but this may not make it easier. 


I have much more to explore here, but these questions based on elements of the essence are helping me fill in some of the gaps and test that the story problem is one that will explore what matters most to me in this story. The problem of the story sets up the conflict and provides the opportunity for the protagonist to develop and change for the better. You might think of it as a nutrient-dense food that takes time and energy to digest, but if the protagonist sticks with it through the pain and suffering, they come out the other side with hard-won knowledge and wisdom that no one can take away. 


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will typically be longer than 400 words.

Day 18: Opening Lines

Once upon a time …

Let’s briefly consider opening lines. So much depends on getting them just right. They invite readers into the story, and if we’ve done our job well, they’ll want to keep reading. 

There are three main options. 

  • Action: “A dragon was trying to hide in the storm.” —Wings of Fire: The Dragonet Prophecy by Tui T. Sutherland

  • Character(s): “This Story Begins within the walls of a castle with the birth of a mouse. A small mouse. The last mouse born to his parents and the only one of his litter to be born alive.”  —The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo

  • Story world: “In the land of Ingary, where such things as seven-league boots and cloaks of invisibility really exist, it is quite a misfortune to be born the eldest of three. Everyone knows you are the one who will fail first, and worst, if the three of you set out to seek your fortunes.” —Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynn Jones

In practice, this tends to be one of the last parts of the story we nail down.

Looking at several stories in our genre and subgenre can help us get oriented. We should certainly consider our favorite openings and what we like most about them. 

  • What is emphasized, and how does this relate to the central conflict in the story and what the protagonist must overcome?

  • What is the first image we get?

  • Are we told about it or shown?

  • What assumptions do you make based on the opening lines? 

  • What does it promise?

  • How close are we to what we’re seeing?

  • On a second read of the opening after finishing the story, what do we notice?

To make an informed decision about our first lines, it helps to revisit the “five whys” of the story’s essence. The answers to these questions can help us anchor on what’s essential to the story before settling on a particular direction. 

Once we make a tentative decision, we can write the opening lines on an index card and carry it around with us during the day. Reviewing it often will help us see it from different perspectives. Our minds work in the background while we’re doing other things.


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't always give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will typically be longer than 400 words.

Photo by Heather Zabriskie on Unsplash

Day 17: Reading Practice

One of the fundamental practices successful storytellers adopt is studying stories. Lots of frameworks and lenses exist for this type of practice, but the point is to read regularly and deeply and make note of your findings. 

How do we go from reading to studying stories? Well, the first time we read a story, we read as almost any reader would. We can jot down a note or two each day (nothing onerous) about what we notice. You might write down a favorite passage from your daily reading. We’re simply enjoying the story. For some books, this will be plenty. We put those notes in a safe place so we can return to them as needed. Even if a book isn’t a good fit for us, we’re training our mind to consider what we notice and think like a writer.

Other books we enjoy so much that we grow curious about what makes them tick. We want to revel in the story a bit and try to discover how the writer created what we experienced. For these books, we go a little further: We read them again, more slowly, and analyze them. In future posts, I’ll talk more about different ways to analyze stories, but here’s one way to think about it: When reading for enjoyment, we take some notes and record passages. For books that deserve a second look, we start thinking about why the writer made the choices they did by considering what other options were available and the pros and cons of each route. 

Other stories are akin to the stories we want to write, so much so that they become a model for our own stories. Maybe it’s the same subgenre as our story, or it uses the same type of narrative situation. Maybe the protagonist’s journey is fundamentally the same as in the way Pride and Prejudice serves a model for Bridget Jones’s Diary. We read these stories multiple times because we gain something new each time, and we make a map of their terrain. We’re not copying these stories, but using them as mentors. Those writers have charted a course into the same territory we want to explore, and it makes sense to consult the maps they created. 

If you’re out of practice and need a way to start reading regularly again, begin with something you know you’ll love rather than a story you think you ought to have read. Try reading five or ten pages everyday no matter what. The number isn’t as important as the consistency. 

If you combine reading practice with writing practice and prioritize it, you will be well on your way to thinking like a writer. 


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will typically be longer than 400 words.

Day 16: Maps and Stories

Photo by LSE Library on Unsplash

Maps are tools we use to show relationships between things in our world. A map represents certain aspects of the physical world with a goal in mind. 

Different maps allow us to see the same territory in different ways. For example, a map of the London Underground shows train lines and stops, but it is not ideal if we want to see the city on foot. A political map will show us nations, states or provinces, and their boundaries. But these maps typically omit the specific details of the terrain a topographic map would include. Each map, if well conceived and constructed, enables us to avoid what’s nonessential for our purposes and focus on what we need to know. 

Just as maps help us navigate in the external environment, stories help us navigate our lives. A story represents certain aspects of life and allows us to observe a representative human try different approaches to solving it. Stories contain a lot of external action, and this is vital to keep an audience engaged, but what’s operating beneath that is an individual or group trying to wrap their head around what’s changed so they can solve their problems and meet their needs.  

Different stories enable us to test various approaches in different scenarios that cause change. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens shows one way rethink our life choices. Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson shows how to survive a brush with with danger. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen shows us different approaches to finding a romantic partner. These statements oversimplify these complex stories, but stick with me here. Because of the aspect of life the writers chose to explore, some details of the world, characters, and actions are not essential to telling these stories. The reader doesn’t need to see them, though they should be able to sense that these other details exist without their presence. 

As Alfred Korzybski wrote, a map is not the territory, and it is also true that stories are not real life. Even nonfiction stories don’t show us life unfiltered. One task for us as writers is to figure out our goal for the story and identify the details required to fulfill it.

The first step is identifying the story’s essence.


This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will sometimes be longer than 400 words.