In essence procrastination is not just a lack of action, but also a lack of decision making. Closer to the root of the problem, it is a lack of desire to make a decision. You’re not sure what to do with a character in a scene, or how the plot twist will unfold. So you get out the mop or do the dishes, or watch a movie, or play a game.

There is nothing wrong with doing any of those things, and in fact maybe it’s good that you do because you will quicker realize that the tricky problem that was waiting for you on your story is still there and as long as you avoid it, there is nothing you can do and you will never finish your story.

The more decisions you face up to and make, the less likely you will be to procrastinate. You often see evidence of this after the fact. Once you roll up your sleeves and get down to work, you think to yourself, “Hey that wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. What was I so hung up about?”

Making a decision. That’s what you had hang-ups about.

I have a very apt day-to-day household corollary (coronary?) for this one. When guests are coming over I often have a bad tendency to just shove things in drawers and closets, and worry about what these items are and where they should ideally be (in the garbage, most of em’) at a much later point in time. But then be it six, or eight months, or a year later I’m digging in the closet and I realize that all this drawer and closet-stuffing means I just need to clean the closet. Wherever you go, there it is.

The fundamental issue is that every article or item requires a decision and sometimes I feel overwhelmed and that there are just too many decisions to be made and I just don’t have the time or inclination to make them all.

Until I just go and make 10 decisions and realize the boogeyman doesn’t really exist and sooner, rather than later, is probably better. And all of you out there struggling to write know exactly what I’m talking about! :)

Stories get made a decision at a time. So get busy making a decision or ten. The more decisions the better, and the faster you’ll get the job done. Nobody ever finished a novel or screenplay by refusing to make decisions.

So get on with it!

For me it’s all of the above. I like it all, on one condition; The sacrifices have to be meaningful.

I don’t read stories or watch movies to find out that change is impossible and the hero ultimately fails. And yet storytellers still pull these kind of shenanigans.

If the hero throws themself in front of certain death to buy another character more time to escape, that is heroic because the sacrifice bought something. If the hero throws themself on certain death but the other character doesn’t escape, and they both die, you’ve just wasted my time and I’ll probably never buy another story of yours again.

Human culture crafts myth to entertain, but also to feed the soul. Hopelessness is a poor form of nourishment.

There are far too many stories out there where the creators were intent on communicating hopelessness, and if I had to guess why I’d say the creators have a poor understanding of sacrifice.

Anything goes in a story. There’s no rule that says what characters live or what characters die, or even that the characters accomplished what they set out to do. There is only one rule in my book…

The sacrifices must be meaningful.

I’ve read The Mist short story by Stephen King, but haven’t read No Country for Old Men, by Cormac McCarthy of “The Road” fame.

Both involve strong characters stuck in sticky dilemmas, forced to make hard choices which the audience may or may not agree with. But wait! Doesn’t the title of this thread imply this post was about Hollywood and formula?

Well here it is; Formula is officially dead. Or maybe it never existed. Love it or hate it, these movies break a couple fundamental rules. Rules that, if there were such a thing as The Formula, are clearly being violated in Hollywood left and right.

One is substituting gritty drama in place of high action. While The Mist does give you a glimpse of its monsters, that glimpse is a fraction of the time invested in the movie. You more often hear characters talking about monsters or arguing about what to do than actually fighting them. It clearly violates the “show don’t tell” rule on many levels. Considering both movies come from books, that’s not surprising.

But to me, the most anti-Hollywood, and anti-formula aspects of these movies involve their endings. I won’t give any details away, but one is about the most anti-heroic ending I’ve ever seen in a movie, and the other ending is non-existent.

Clearly if Hollywood were ramrodding formula down the throats of audiences, not only would these endings not exist — but their movies might not either!

Now, being a bit more of a storytelling classicist and feeling a bit sympathetic towards the principles behind formula (do not piss off the audience, etc.), I must say that I wasn’t satisfied with the ending to either movie.

The funny part is, I feel a bit alone on this. Am I the only one who likes a good Hollywood ending anymore? And by that I don’t mean happy ending — a story can and should have sacrifices, but at the end of it all the sacrifices should mean something. Storytelling is founded upon the sense of meaning that is grasped by the audience. The Mist left me angry, No Country for Old Men left me confused.

Formula is a myth, or if it isn’t a myth then it’s dead. These two movies prove it, in a way that makes a case for formula itself.

Times like this I wish I had spoiler tags. Time to root up a plugin I guess.

1. She implies that getting too political or philosophical in fiction makes the reading less enjoyable, and more a rolling-of-the-eyes.
2. She oversimplifies libertarianism as an Ayn Rand-ian, anti-social, “greed is good” selfishness, and in the process shows her own true colors a bit strongly — see number one.

Speaking of tautological knee-jerk reactions, I played the Bioshock demo and noted much of the same. The antagonist in the fictional underwater city of Rapture is one Andrew Ryan (Ayn Rand – Andrew Ryan, get it?) and of course the player is lambasted with sound bites that echo of Gordon Gecko in Wall Street.

Let me guess, because at the end of the game we’ll find out we’re all in this together, and we’re all obligated to serve one another out of shared humanity whether we like it or not, right? And if you disagree, then it’s off to the gulag for you! /Sarcasm Off

I’ve read on several writing blogs that authors shouldn’t use their stories as a front for their politics. I disagree on a fundamental level, not because novels should be vehicles for politics but because all ripe forms of primate conflict stem from some kind of politics. It doesn’t matter whether they be personal and petty or on an international scale found in Ludlum’s Bourne series. Read The Spy Who Came In From The Cold by John Le Carre, and tell me honestly if you think the story would be better without the political intrigue.

Stories are better for having political conflict IF the themes and material are handled in an entertaining matter. Key word being entertainment. Your job as a fiction writer is to entertain, not lecture. Fifty six page speeches are more the realm of non-fiction than fiction, and while they don’t make Ayn Rand a bad person, they may safely qualify her as a poor storyteller.

No speeches, ever? I wouldn’t go that far. The scene should not last the entire length of the speech. Think in soundbites. Also, think on several layers. It’s not so much about the character proselytizing what they believe. Consider these questions:

• What if they’re lying?
• What if they’re a hypocrite?
• What if the character is forced to say it by someone behind the scenes?
• What if the belief they’re professing to others is part of a tragic character flaw?

It’s not really about the politics, morals, or beliefs. It’s about the characters.

The politician who slams his fist on the podium in moral outrage is outrageous himself for having pocketed bribe money five minutes before the speech. It almost doesn’t matter what he gives a speech about. The more moralizing the speech, probably the better if the person is downright corrupt. Rile the reader up a bit!

Inconsistency of the character is key. Just because they believe a certain thing is justified does not mean they will act accordingly every single time. Humans are fragile, and deeply flawed creatures subject to all kinds of whims and irrational behavior. Don’t codify a character’s beliefs like the grid on a waffle iron. The waffles shouldn’t come out perfect every time.

Show the themes from different angles and zoom in on human foibles of both your hero and your villain. Whatever it is they believe (or you believe, as stated in thesis through them) — be brave enough to be wrong, and let your characters be wrong some of the time.

Concede a few philosophical points to the villain. Make them seem right, in at least a few small instances. And let others be duped by that righteousness, and fall victim to the villain’s machinations. Sometimes people have the best intentions, and they still end up exploiting others.

Politics are a source of more conflict, and mo’ conflict equals mo’ better. A conflict requires two sides, and providing a little counterpoint will strengthen it.

Novels were the absolute last thing on her list of priorities.

Worse though, her required reading during college made it so that reading was transformed from an ‘enjoyable leisurely activity’ and instead became ‘work.’

Although she’s no longer burdened by the task of studying, one of the long-lasting effects of college on her is that reading is still just another form of work. It ranks up there with doing the dishes, and other mundane chores.

I have heard of other people who were similarly burned out on reading by their journey through college. The very idea of it gives me chills.

Do colleges destroy reading and readers by turning the very act of reading into an agonizing chore?