Scenes are an essential component of storytelling because they are the fundamental building blocks of any story. Without scenes, all you have is a string of exposition (“this happened, then this happened, then this happened”). That does not create an immersive story experience for your reader. Scenes give readers the feeling that they are right there in the story, experiencing the events alongside the characters. If you imagine a story like a movie playing in your head, scenes are what create that feeling.

Why Scenes Matter

I like to think of scenes as the lowest common denominator of storytelling. A scene is the smallest possible unit that still contains all the essential elements of a story: character, plot, world, and theme. Any smaller unit than a scene—a paragraph or a sentence, for example—might contain a couple of those elements, but likely will not contain all four.

To me, scenes are the cellular component of the story organism. Just like an individual cell contains all the same DNA as the full organism, a scene contains all of the story’s “DNA” by representing all four storytelling elements. And just as different cells may manifest the DNA in different ways—a brain cell is different from a muscle cell after all—different scenes will highlight different aspects of the story, but they still contain all four of the basic components.

In other words, a scene taps into all of the five W’s: who, what, when, where, and why. The “who” is the character (or characters) present in that scene. The “what” is what happens, or the plot events of that scene. The “when/where” represents the world as it appears in that moment, and the “why” is the theme and how it is infused into the scene at hand.

I’ve had a lot of writers ask me: “How can I tell the difference between one scene and the next?” While this is not a hard-and-fast rule, I like to look at the 5 Ws, and when one or more W changes, that’s often a clue that the scene might be changing as well. For example, if a character enters or leaves the scene, if we change location, or if a new plot event comes into play, those are often possible indicators that we are shifting from one scene to the next. While this is not always the case, it’s usually a sign that we should take a closer look at the scene and see if it has indeed changed.

Scenes vs. Chapters

Another question that often comes up for writers is this distinction between scenes and chapters. For some writers, scenes and chapters are one and the same in that each chapter is a single scene. Still, it’s important to understand the distinction between the two, because they are, in fact, different.

If scenes are the smallest unit of storytelling, chapters are an artificial construct created by writers to deliver a particular experience to the reader. This means you can have many scenes within a single chapter or one scene spanning multiple chapters. Shorter chapters make the pacing feel faster while longer chapters can stretch out the pacing and increase suspense.

For example, in the novel Sweethearts by Sara Zarr, there are two timelines, one in the present and one in the past. The present-day timeline is paced with moderate-length scenes while the past timeline is one long scene stretched out over the entire length of the book. This creates a sense of suspense. The reader wants to keep turning pages to find out what happened in that intense scene in the past timeline.

Another example is the chapter break during the Reaping scene of The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. The first chapter of the book includes a few different scenes—Katniss and Gale hunting, Katniss and Prim at home getting ready, and the beginning of the Reaping scene. The chapter ends abruptly at the moment when Prim’s name is drawn from the tribute jar. The scene then continues into the second chapter, where Katniss volunteers to take her sister’s place. That chapter break (right at the height of tension) builds suspense with a cliffhanger at the end of chapter one. Readers want to keep turning pages to find out what Katniss will do.

As these examples show, while in some cases you might have scenes and chapters that are equivalent, chapters are an artistic choice and a tool that writers can use to create a desired effect in the story. Scenes, on the other hand, are a fundamental unit of storytelling, not an artificial construct. 

Scene vs. Exposition

If scenes are the “show” part of storytelling, then exposition is the “tell.” Many writing teachers hammer home the idea that you should “show, don’t tell” but I prefer to think of it as “show and tell.” The truth is that showing and telling are both essential parts of storytelling. Scenes and exposition both perform important functions and one is not necessarily better than the other.

Scenes, as mentioned before, have a certain immediacy to them. The reader feels like they are right there with the characters, experiencing the moment at hand alongside them. Scenes have an immersive feel to them and oftentimes we don’t even realize we are reading when a scene really pulls us in.

Exposition, on the other hand, is great for skipping time or zipping from one location to another. If scenes are like the basic cells in a story organism, I think of exposition as the connective tissue that helps to hold everything together. Exposition is what allows us to say “Five years later” or “The next morning in Timbuktu.” It allows us to skim over the less important (or less interesting) parts of the story, until we get to another section that merits a scene.

Consider this example. Suppose you have a character who walks to work every day by the same route. The reader doesn’t need to know about every crack in the sidewalk or every random stranger that crosses the character’s path. If it’s a regular, ordinary day, the story can just say “He walked to work that day” and then craft a scene when things get interesting.

But let’s suppose, on a particular day, something dramatic happens on the way to work, like they meet the love of their life. Now it makes sense to craft a full scene, so we can capture that dramatic moment. Exposition lets us skip over the mundane, everyday stuff, while scene lets us dive into an important moment for the character.

The Elements of Scene Structure

At DIY MFA, we consider scene structure as it relates to each of the four story elements: character, plot, world, and theme. I like to think of these story elements as mapping directly onto the four natural elements: fire, water, earth, and air. 

Plot, for example, represents water or the ebb and flow of the storytelling. The plot events are often a sequence of actions and reactions, where events happen and characters respond, prompting other events to happen, and so forth.

When you put the elements of a scene together, you end up with something akin to the image below. The bead-like shape is intentional because scenes are like beads on a string, each one building on the one before and helping the necklace take shape.

This four-pronged approach to scene craft is only the tip of the iceberg. In our signature DIY MFA programs (like Plan to Plot), we go much deeper into these story elements and how they intersect with each other. For example, key moments in the plot thread overlap with significant points in the character’s arc through the scene. This is not coincidental.

Do a Deep Dive!

If you’re curious about scene craft and structure, one of the best ways to understand the techniques is to do some close reading and analyze what you see on the page. Choose a scene from a favorite novel, memoir, or story and see if you can tease apart the four different elements.

What sections relate to the character’s arc through the scene? What components are the ebb and flow of plot events? How does the author ground the scene in place and time, and what symbols or thematic elements help bring the story’s theme to life? See if you can identify and analyze the different parts of a scene. After that, you’re well on your way to crafting great scenes yourself. 

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: Scene Craft: How to Create Stronger Scenes appeared first on DIY MFA.

But there’s more to writing than just the writing itself. There are many elements that touch our writing but are not necessarily writing-related. Still, these elements can have a huge impact on how we get words on the page.

There are a lot of experts teaching about the craft of writing, but not as many who talk about the “other stuff” like resilience, focus, overcoming blocks, setting boundaries, and other such topics. This is why I created the DIY MFA FLOW Framework.

The DIY MFA FLOW Framework has four parts to it. These four components represent four different aspects of our creative lives. In fact, the word FLOW is itself an acronym. (And if you’ve been in the DIY MFA ecosystem for more than five minutes, you probably know we love our acronyms!)

• F = Find Your Focus
• L = Live Your Learning
• O = Overcome Your Obstacles
• W = Work Your Words

The idea behind the FLOW Framework is that all these ancillary skills which surround our writing are just that: skills. This means that they are teachable and learnable, not esoteric, amorphous concepts that are impossible to figure out. At DIY MFA, we believe that you can practice specific skills related to your creative life. Then you’ll have these skills in your back pocket, so you can implement them at crucial moments.

Find Your Focus

Focus is the foundational aspect of the FLOW framework, because without focus, none of the other FLOW components are feasible. In addition, focus is essential for getting words on the page and is a necessary first step to be able to write. No matter how many creativity hacks we might try, if we can’t focus, we can’t do our creative work.

Find Your Focus skills include how to:

• Set effective goals
• Find the right project that lights you up
• Make empowered choices
• Eliminate distractions
• Discern when to emphasize life vs. writing

Live Your Learning

As writers we are constantly learning. We like to learn new craft-related techniques. We also learn about our own subject matter so we can write compelling and authentic stories. In terms of the FLOW Framework, learning is the day-to-day maintenance piece. These are the skills we will draw on most often as we are living our creative lives.

Live Your Learning skills include how to:

• Determine our best writing process
• Handle failure and avoid guilt
• Use deliberate practice to learn new skills and techniques
• Develop ideas through imitation, improvisation, and incubation
• Structure your ideas and give them a concrete shape

Overcome Your Obstacles

Sooner or later, all writers hit bumps in the road. Whatever we might call it—writer’s block, resistance, “The Wall”—the result is the same. Sometimes we face a creative crisis and we need techniques to help us get through it. These skills are ones we may not draw on every day, but we want to practice them and keep them handy so that we have them when the need arises.

Overcome Your Obstacles skills include how to:

• Side-step obstacles by acting “As If”
• Use your creative identity to anchor you during tough moments
• Identify your creative monster and take away its power
• Craft a creative survival kit in case of emergencies
• Put together a Peace Corner to keep you grounded

Work Your Words

This element is the interpersonal part of the FLOW Framework. While the other elements address more individual aspects of the creative life, we must also accept that creative work exists in an ecosystem, and we must learn to navigate that system. This FLOW component is all about communication and using our words effectively with others.

Work Your Words skills include how to:

• Reframe language that does not serve you
• Use language for problem-solving
• Set boundaries with strategic word choice
• Ask for what you need effectively
• Redirect and deflect verbal attacks

Skill-Based Learning and the Importance of Practice

One thing to keep in mind with the FLOW Framework, is that the emphasis is not on vaguely understanding amorphous concepts. When I teach this framework, the main task at hand is for writers to learn specific, concrete skills, then practice them in a safe space—a journal, a worksheet, a virtual workshop—so that when the need arises, they have that skill ready.

This is not unlike how I teach the craft. Yes, there are certain aspects of writing that are very cerebral and abstract, but the goal is always to translate those amorphous ideas into concrete techniques that writers can implement right away. This is why so many of our programs at DIY MFA include a live classroom component, where writers can participate in real time.

It is difficult to practice skills in isolation, though not impossible. If you find you don’t have the opportunity to join a life workshop or take a class in real time, you can still learn techniques and practice them on your own. The key is learning to look at the work you do in practice with an objective outlook. There is one DIY MFA technique I find particularly useful for practicing both the technical aspects of writing and those ancillary skills represented in the FLOW Framework. It is called the Petri Dish Technique.

The Petri Dish Technique

The idea behind the Petri Dish Technique is that you identify the skill you want to learn, practice it in isolation, then put the technique back into context after you have solidified it. For example, imagine you want to learn how to write better dialogue. First you identify that dialogue is, in fact, the problem you want to solve. Next, you find some dialogue exercises online or in a book of writing prompts and you do those exercises until you feel like you’ve nailed down the dialogue. Then and only then do you go back into your work-in-progress and fix the dialogue throughout.

The reason this technique works so well is because it allows you to practice a technique outside the context of your current project. This lowers the likelihood of you tinkering your story to death and making your voice feel stilted and artificial. This is not unlike how scientists might take a cell sample from an organism, run tests on it in a petri dish, then infuse the cure back into the organism once they’ve solved the problem. The petri dish allows for a safe space to run those tests and not kill the organism in the process. The same is true with your writing.

But what about those ancillary skills from the FLOW Framework? How can we use the Petri Dish Technique with those?

In this case, we have to get a little more creative. Instead of doing writing prompts, we need to find some other safe space where we can practice those skills. I find journaling to be especially effective for this purpose. If I don’t have a circle of trust immediately handy where I can try some of the skills out on real people, I find that writing about the skill in a journal can be an effective alternative.

This is why, when I teach the FLOW Framework I like to have worksheets handy so writers can practice the techniques on the page. This is especially helpful because I find many writers to be introverts, and introverts don’t often want to practice techniques through roleplay or other more extroverted activities. For writers, processing concepts through pen and page is often more compatible with their introspective natures.

Reclaiming Your Creative Flow

If you’re having trouble finding your creative flow, start by using the FLOW framework to identify which area of your creative life needs the most attention. Is the problem that you feel scattered and can’t concentrate on your creative work (Focus)? Is it something relating to your everyday writing process (Learning)? Are you perhaps struggling with a creative crisis like writer’s block (Obstacles)? Is the issue one of setting boundaries or communicating your needs (Words)?

Once you have a sense for the overall cause of this lack of flow, look at some of the skills listed above and see if you can find one that might help address the issue. (Note: the lists of skills are by no means exhaustive, so you might identify something that’s not on a list. That’s okay!) After you’ve selected a skill, grab a journal and spend a little bit of time writing about it.

A great way to journal about this is with the “So What?” Technique. Start by making some sort of statement about the topic at hand, like “I don’t feel inspired to write.” Then write “so what?” Answer with another statement, then ask “so what?” again. Keep doing this for five or six “so whats?” until you hit on the core reason behind the lack of creative flow. After that, write a few paragraphs about what you’ve uncovered. The purpose behind the five or six “so whats?” is that they allow you to go deep and not stop at the most obvious answers.

There you have it: a step-by-step guide to reclaiming your creative flow, using the FLOW Framework alongside practical tools like the Petri Dish Technique and the “So What” Technique.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: Lost Your Creative Flow? Use this Framework to Get it Back appeared first on DIY MFA.

At the same time, I think putting our fingers in our ears and saying “La-la-la-la-la I’m not listening” with respect to AI is about as practical as being anti-internet in the 1990s. Unless you plan to live in a cabin in the woods next to Walden Pond and isolate yourself from all society, you have to accept living in a world where generative AI is part of our reality.

How do we use AI ethically?

I’m neither a lawyer nor a philosopher, so I’m not about to try parsing out the ethical nuances of AI use. Instead, I’ll point you to a source I trust—The Author’s Guild. This organization has been instrumental in helping writers navigate the process of getting fair compensation for their unlicensed work being used to train LLMs. It has an excellent online guide on the ethical use of AI.

After reading this guide, I feel cautiously optimistic that big corporations may eventually do the right thing and start licensing the work they use to train their models. And if they don’t, at the very least, artists and organizations like the Author’s Guild will take to the courts and maybe force these companies to do it.

Speaking of cases, many people have asked me how I feel about the Anthropic settlement, especially since my book is one of the thousands listed in that database. My response is always the same: It’s not great, but it’s better than nothing. I think authors and artists should be compensated far more than what the settlement has determined. (Let’s be real, $1.5 billion divided among however many thousands of books is not going to yield very much for each writer, nor do I think it’s punitive enough to prevent this kind of nonsense from happening again.)

Still that settlement sets a legal precedent, which is important because it makes it less of an uphill climb for other, similar cases to be decided in the artists’ favor. In my opinion, the legal precedent is in many ways more important than the pecuniary outcome.

I’m also gravely concerned about what AI is doing to people’s brains and to education as a whole. As the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, I’m a firm believer in self-motivation, especially when it comes to learning. But AI is now baked into so many online tools (including search engines) that it’s virtually impossible to do even the most basic research or creative work without coming across some AI generated result.

I suppose this would be tolerable if AI’s accuracy were not so hit or miss, but the way things are right now, it’s garbage in, garbage out. There’s no quality assurance department—aside from our own brains—to help us determine the accuracy of something generated by AI. This means if we’re not careful, we could be using AI generated content and inaccurate information without even realizing it.

What can we do about this?

First and foremost, get informed. AI isn’t going anywhere. Unless we want to live in the dark ages while everyone else is zipping into the future, we need to understand what AI is about and be aware of any controversy that surrounds it. Arm yourself with the right resources. I already mentioned the Author’s Guild, but I also highly recommend Jane Friedman’s paid newsletter The Bottom Line, where she reports on all things publishing-related, including generative AI (when relevant). This is one of those go-to publishing resources I recommend to any author who’s serious about getting published and understanding this industry.

Second, be cautious about what material you feed into AI tools. Make sure you understand all the terms of service. Read the fine print. I know we’ve been conditioned to click “accept all terms” when signing up for a new app or piece of technology. Do not do this with AI. Make sure you understand exactly how that AI tool uses and stores your data. I especially caution you against entering your entire manuscript into an AI chatbot or software. Unless you are absolutely certain that you retain all ownership and that it will not be used to train the model, do not feed it into the AI.

You also need to be aware of who owns the output. It does you no good to input your manuscript into an AI tool if you don’t own whatever material it spits out. Do your due diligence. If you choose to use AI, make sure you understand exactly what happens to both the input and the output.

Third, recognize that AI is deeply flawed and often inaccurate. If you’re going to use it, take the resulting output with a grain of salt and always supplement it with your own research and brainpower. Do not take AI at its word. Make sure to verify all results.

AI’s Impact on Education

Where things have gotten fascinating for me is the impact AI has had on education. My kids are in 6th and 8th grades, and it’s interesting to see how their schools handle the use of technology and are responding to generative AI.

My daughter (the 6th-grader) goes to a school where they’ve gone back to paper-and-pencil exams (remember the good ol’ days of blue books?) because they don’t want the students using AI during tests. My understanding is that they are opting for forms of evaluation where the students do most of the work in class, like presentations and in-class projects. This is all in an effort to prevent the use of AI in cheating.

My son (the 8th-grader) goes to a school that has taken things even a step further. In addition to monitoring the students’ use of technology, they have baked AI awareness into their curriculum. They have an entire subject called Media Literacy, where they focus on identifying generative AI outputs and also learn how to navigate the landscape of social media and the internet responsibly.

If generative AI challenges us to pause and take a step back to more basic forms of learning and testing, that might not be such a bad thing. In fact, I’m not opposed to teachers and administrators limiting the use of screens in the classroom. It’s hard enough to limit screen time at home when all the homework requires logging into a school portal. If more of those screen-related boundaries can be set in the classroom, so much the better. If avoiding AI forces classrooms to go “back to the basics” and my kids end up writing more with pencil in hand, I am all for it.

To AI or Not to AI… Where Do You Stand?

Now I’m curious. Where do you stand on generative AI? Are you opposed to its use for writing but feel it’s okay for things like checking errors? Do you find it useful for brainstorming or marketing purposes? Are you completely against it in all forms (aside from maybe spellcheck)?

I’d like to get a bit of a poll going and if we get some interesting results, I may share it in a subsequent newsletter. (Don’t worry, we’ll only share the aggregate, not individual, results.) Click the link below that best represents your take on AI.

I’m an AI user.

I use AI regularly in many contexts. It saves me tons of time doing tasks I dislike, which allows more time for writing.

I’m AI-cautious.

It may turn out to be useful, but before I can make up my mind about AI, I need more information. I want to wait and see how things develop.

I’m AI-avoidant.

I dislike what AI is doing to our world and our culture. I refuse to use it in any form. If it’s anything more than spellcheck, I avoid it.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: How Do You Feel About AI? appeared first on DIY MFA.

Spoiler Alert! As with all three-act analyses, it’s impossible to talk about a book’s structure without giving spoilers. This book in particular has something of a twist at the end, so if you don’t want this analysis to spoil it for you, grab a copy and read the book first. It’s super-short and has lots of illustrations, so it’s a very quick read.

Without further ado, let’s dive into our analysis of The Little Prince.

ACT 1: The book opens with an anecdote where the narrator tells how, as a child, he drew a picture of a boa constrictor eating an elephant. When he showed it to adults, they all seemed to think it was a picture of a hat and they could not see the terrifying truth that it was really an elephant inside a snake. This anecdote is meant to show us the contrast between how adults and children see the world.

Many years later, the narrator’s plane crashes in the desert and he is completely alone, until a little boy—the little prince—appears as if out of nowhere. The boy asks him to draw him a sheep but no matter what the narrator draws, nothing seems to satisfy the boy. Eventually the narrator draws a picture of a box with holes in it and tells the boy that the sheep is inside. The holes are so the sheep can breathe. This is the first moment when the narrator begins to think like a child, rather than an adult.

For the rest of Act 1, the little prince tells the narrator his story. He is from a tiny planet where he lives alone, tending to the plants and trying to prevent baobabs from taking root. (This is why he needs a sheep, so it can eat the weeds and dangerous plants.) As the days pass, the little prince tells the narrator more and more about his planet.

Character: The little prince is the protagonist of this story. He begins seeming very childlike but by the end he shows wisdom beyond his years.

Voice: This book is told through the point of view of a nameless first person narrator. Like the book’s author, the narrator is a pilot, and at the beginning of the story he has a very grown-up mindset. As the story progresses, however, the narrator begins to identify with the little prince and think the way a child would think.

As with The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Little Prince is written in the first person peripheral point of view. This means that the character narrating the story is not the protagonist but a supporting character.

Note also that the voice and tone of the story shifts. At first, we are very much in the voice of the narrator relaying to us what the little prince has told him. As the story develops, however, and we get more entrenched in the story of the little prince’s adventure, the narrator begins to disappear from the picture and we slide into what almost feels like a third person limited point of view. Toward the end of the story, the narrator resumes his more prominent role and we are back in the first person peripheral point of view.

Periodically, the narrator’s voice shifts into the second person, as though he is speaking directly to the little prince (though it is clear that we are in the narrator’s thoughts). While the second person can be hard to sustain for a longer book, these short bursts of this unconventional point of view work well sprinkled throughout the story. In these moments of second person narration, we feel as though we are right there, inside the narrator’s head.

World: There are two primary worlds in this story: the harsh desert where the narrator meets the little prince, and the fanciful world of the asteroids and planets that the little prince visits along his travels. Each planet he comes to has its own quirky inhabitant and these people are meant to represent different facets of society.

Problem: The little prince lives alone and he worries about dangerous plants (like baobabs) taking root and overwhelming his whole planet.

Event: The story begins off with the narrator’s plane crashing in the desert, which is where he meets the little prince.

PIVOT POINT 1:  The little prince tells the narrator of the arrival of his flower, whose seed blew to his planet “from no one knew where.” He immediately falls in love with the flower and does everything he can to take good care of her. Yet, she is vain and selfish, and she torments the little prince with her constant requirements. Eventually, he decides to leave his planet.

The morning of his departure, he puts everything in order on his small planet. He cleans out the volcanoes and says goodbye to his flower. She apologizes for her past behavior, but he leaves nonetheless. The external event at this pivot point is first meeting the flower. The internal choice is the little prince’s decision to leave his planet.

ACT 2:  The second act has two distinct parts to it, split almost directly down the middle. The first part comprises all the planets the little prince visits before he gets to the Earth, and the second part takes place after he has reached our planet. 

SUPPORTING CAST:  As he stops at different planets, the little prince meets different men who represent various facets of society. When he meets these characters, the little prince wonders at their odd behaviors and remarks that adults “are certainly very, very odd.” These characters include:

The King: This king sits alone on a tiny planet, barely big enough to hold his throne and extensive robes. He instantly assumes the little prince is a subject because to him “all men are subjects.” He also commands the little prince to do things that he would have done anyway, simply as a way to flaunt his power. For example, when the little prince decides to leave, the king tries to prevent him, but eventually lets him go, calling him an “ambassador.”

The Conceited Man: Just as the king views everyone as a subject, the conceited man thinks of everyone as an admirer. Both the conceited man and the king are alone on their planets, which is ironic because the conceited man has no one there to admire him and the king has no one to rule over. Yet, they both believe they are the best or highest rank on their respective planets.

The Drinker: The next planet houses a man who sits alone, drinking. According to him, he drinks in order to forget that he is ashamed of drinking. As it turns out, drinking to forget is a vicious cycle.

The Businessman: This man sits alone with his ledgers and counts the millions of “little glittering objects” in the sky (i.e., the stars). The businessman insists that he owns everything that he counts and makes a distinction between kings and businessmen—kings do not own, they reign over, whereas businessmen own the things they count. The little prince tells the man that he owns his flower and his volcanoes, and that in owning them he is also of use to them, but the businessman is not of use to the stars he supposedly owns.

The Lamplighter: On this planet stands a man, alone with a single streetlamp that he must light and extinguish over and over again. He does this because it’s what he has been ordered to do. While at first the little prince admires the lamplighter’s industrious calling, thinking it a useful and beautiful profession, he soon begins to realize the futility of the man’s role. He is simply doing as he is told. “Orders are orders,” after all.

The Geographer: This man sits alone on a planet, writing in voluminous books. While the man claims to be a geographer, he does not know where anything is on his planet because he is not himself an explorer. In other words, his job is to catalogue the information related by the explorers, but he does not acquire any of that knowledge for himself.

MIDPOINT: If we look at the exact halfway point in the story, that brings us to the lamplighter planet. This chapter has a somewhat of different quality to it than the other planetary visits. Even the little prince himself says of the lamplighter: ”he is the only one of them all who does not seem to me ridiculous. Perhaps that is because he is thinking  of something else besides himself.” He goes so far as to say that the lamplighter is the only man with whom he could have been friends.

This scene with the lamplighter has a different quality to it than scenes on the other planets and we do get some sense of self-reflection in that the little prince is considering the lamplighter’s beautiful occupation. That said, this scene does not really operate as a Temporary Triumph (or a False Failure). Yes, it seems as though the lamplighter is the only person among the planetary visits with whom the little prince can be friends, but the little prince is unable to stay on his planet because it is too small.

A bit later in the story (about 60% of the way through the book), we find a more significant Temporary Triumph when the little prince arrives on earth.

The Earth is not just an ordinary planet!  One can count, there, 111 kings… 7,000  geographers, 900,000 businessmen, 7,500,000  tipplers, 311,000,000 conceited men—that is to  say, about 2,000,000,000 grown-ups.

To give you an idea of the size of the Earth, I  will tell you that before the invention of electricity  it was necessary to maintain, over the whole of  the six continents, a veritable army of 462,511  lamplighters for the street lamps.

At first, it seems like the little prince has found what he has been looking for, but then he realizes that there are no people anywhere on the planet. His Temporary Triumph quickly dissolves into failure when he realizes that he has reached this significant planet and is still all alone.

ACT 2 (Cont’d): While the little prince meets various people on his planetary visits, when he comes to Earth, his interactions are at first with other creatures of the flora and fauna varieties.

First he meets a snake who tells him he is in a desert, which is why there are no people to be found. This interaction with the snake foreshadows the ending because while the little prince says the snake is “no thicker than a finger” the snake counters that he is “more powerful than the finger of a king.” The snake says it will send anything it touches back to earth, and that if the little prince should feel homesick for his own planet, the snake can help him.

Later, the little prince crosses the desert and meets a solitary flower with only three petals. The flower tells him there are no people because men have no roots and “the wind blows them away.” Eventually, the little prince comes across a garden filled with roses that look just like his flower back on his planet. He is distraught because he had thought his flower was unique and now he has found several just like it. He is overcome with grief and he cries.

PIVOT POINT 2: The second pivot point occurs when the little prince meets the fox. The little prince is very unhappy because he has just left the garden with all the roses and he asks the fox to play with him. The fox says it cannot play with him because it is not tamed. It asks the little prince to tame it and the little prince does.

When the little prince is ready to leave, the fox is very sad and the little prince realizes that in taming something you can both do it good as well as harm. The fox tells the little prince: “Go and look again at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world.” When the little prince goes to look at the roses, he realizes that his own rose is, in fact, unique. The little prince tells the roses of the fox: “I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world” and he realizes that the same is true of his rose. His flower is unique because she is his.

The event at this second pivot point is the little prince taming the fox. The choice that he makes stems from realizing that his rose is, in fact, unique and that he is now responsible for those he has tamed—the fox and his rose.

ACT 3: In Act 3, the little prince meets a few other adults: the railroad switchman, the merchant, and eventually our narrator. Like the men the little prince meets on his planetary visits, the railroad switchman and the merchant each seem to have a futile existence.

The railroad switchman simply sends people on their way, going left and right. All the travelers are never satisfied with where they are and they also don’t seem to pursue anything. Instead, they seem to move simply for the sake of moving. Only the children seem to be interested in the journey itself, pressing their faces against the train windows.

The merchant sells pills that quench thirst, and claims the pills will save people fifty-three minutes every week. The little prince says to himself “if I had fifty-three minutes to spend as I liked, I should walk at my leisure toward a spring of fresh water.” In other words, the pills the merchant sells don’t seem to have any significant impact or importance.

The third person the little prince meets is the pilot-narrator.

CRISIS: The little prince has told the narrator his story. The narrator has run out of water and goes looking for a well. They find the well and together they both collect some water. The little prince tells the narrator that he needs a muzzle for his sheep because he is responsible for his flower and does not want the sheep to eat the rose. The narrator realizes that the little prince has plans he is not telling him about. 

CLIMAX: The little prince tells the narrator that he is going back home, but that it is too far. He says he has the sheep (in the box) and the sheep’s muzzle. The narrator realizes that the little prince is becoming afraid and the little prince says that he is.

The narrator says he wants to hear the little prince laugh again and the little prince says:

All men have the stars… but they are not the same things for different people. For some, who are travelers, the stars are guides. For others they are no more than little lights in the sky. For others, who are scholars, they are problems. For my businessman they were wealth. But all these stars are silent. You—you  alone—will have the stars as no one else has them… In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of  them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky  at night… You—only you—will have stars that can laugh!

The narrator does not want to leave the little prince alone. The little prince says that it is too far to get home and he cannot carry his body with him. They sit out under the stars and when the little prince stands up, there is a flash of yellow near his angle and he falls to the ground. 

Ending Type: This is a Tragic Ending because the little prince starts out wanting to take care of his flower, but after he travels, his planet becomes too far away. Instead, he gets bitten by the snake and it is the only way for him to get back to his rose and his planet.

DENOUEMENT: Six years pass and the narrator still mourns the loss of the little prince. He imagines him back on his home planet, sheltering the flower under a glass globe and tending to his sheep. He worries whether the sheep will have eaten the flower. The narrator says: “no grown-up will ever understand that this is a matter of so much importance!” 

CONCLUSION: Before we wrap up this three-act analysis, it’s important to note one thing about the little prince: he never answers any questions himself, but when he has a question he refuses to let go of it. In fact, we have a Rule of 3 where three times, the narrator says of the little prince that he “never in his life had let go of a question once he had asked it.”

The first time the narrator says this is when he is speaking with the little prince about the subject of thorns. The little prince wonders whether the flower’s thorns will be sufficient to protect it from the sheep and prevent the sheep from eating the flower.

The second time this phrase comes up is when the little prince is meeting the businessman and he wants to know what the businessman is counting. While the businessman is focused on owning everything he counts, the little prince later learns that what really matters is forging a connection with something (like his flower) and feeling a sense of responsibility for it.

The third time we hear that statement about how the little prince never lets go of a question, he is speaking to the geographer about the ephemeral nature of his flower. All three instances relate to his flower in some way—truthfully, everything in the story comes back to the flower, because she is the driving force behind the little prince’s motivations.

If we look at the order of the above instances as they appear in the book, it may seem as though the cadence is inverted. But if we consider the events chronologically, the first instance is actually the last one to happen (even though it appears first in the book). That instance is different from the other two because the little prince is actively trying to do something to protect his flower.

In this scene, the narrator responds to the little prince’s question with the first thing that pops into his head and says the thorns will not protect the flower at all. When the little prince pushes back, the narrator says he is busy with “matters of consequence.” The little prince replies:

If someone loves a flower, of which just  one single blossom grows in all the millions and  millions of stars, it is enough to make him happy  just to look at the stars. He can say to himself,  ‘Somewhere, my flower is there.. .’ But if the  sheep eats the flower, in one moment all his stars will be darkened… And you think that is not  important!

This is the moment when we realize just how important the flower is to the little prince. We also understand why the little prince never lets go of a question: because the matters he is asking about are truly of grave importance, even if they may not seem so to a grown-up. In this way, this inverted Rule of 3 underscores not just what the little prince is asking, but why his questions are significant.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: Three-Act Analysis of The Little Prince appeared first on DIY MFA.

This is one of the reasons I am such a huge fan of the Pomodoro Technique. If you’re not familiar with it, this is a method designed to help you eliminate distractions and get your work done. It originated in Italy in the 1980’s, where a young college student, Francesco Cirillo, was struggling to get through his studies. Using a tomato-shaped kitchen timer (hence the “pomodoro” in the name) he broke his study sessions down into short sprints where he would focus on the subject at hand until the timer went off. After experimenting for several years, he eventually found that the optimal length of time for each “pomodoro” (i.e. sprint) was 25 minutes with five-minute breaks in between.

The idea behind the Pomodoro Technique is that you set a timer and then focus on one thing until the timer goes off. After this focus session, you take a break, then come back for another one. You can keep doing this for as long as you like or until you have finished the task at hand. Every four or five sprints, you can also give yourself a longer break.

Why the Pomodoro Technique Works

There are two primary reasons why the Pomodoro Technique is so effective. First and foremost, it enables focus and helps you avoid multitasking. It also forces you to take much-needed breaks, which can have major health benefits.

(1) It Helps Avoid Multitasking.

The main reason the Pomodoro Technique works is because it eliminates multi-tasking, since you have to focus on one thing at a time. Multitasking may seem productive, like you are knocking out multiple tasks at once, but that is actually not the case. When you multitask, your brain can’t focus on multiple things at once so it’s constantly toggling between the various tasks. This leads to context switching.

Context switching is the phenomenon where, when you alternate between multiple tasks, your brain has to “reboot” every time it makes the switch. This might only take a split second but if you switch tasks enough times, those seconds will add up. You lose time whenever your brain has to switch tasks, which means multitasking is actually less productive than focusing on one thing at a time.

In addition, multitasking can lead to errors and can affect your brain health. When you multitask, it requires using more of your brain, which means that multitasking is less efficient than doing focused work. Multitasking can also create other health problems, like increased blood pressure or stress. Even if these problems are short-term, they can still have significant effects.

When you use the Pomodoro Technique, it forces you to focus on one thing at a time. Each pomodoro sprint is only 25 minutes long, meaning that if any distraction comes up—phone message or email ping, you can easily postpone attending to it until the 25-minute sprint is over. After all, it’s only 25 minutes. Then, when you have finished the sprint, you can catch up on anything else that may have happened while you were working.

(2) It Forces You to Take Breaks.

Another reason why the Pomodoro Technique is effective is because it forces you to take breaks. Many writers (myself included) love to immerse themselves in their writing, working for long stretches of time. But if you work for too long, you can end up injuring yourself. I speak from experience.

When I was in grad school for my MFA, I spent so much time writing that I eventually gave myself “golfer’s elbow” and ended up with my right (dominant) arm in a brace for several weeks. That definitely put a damper on my writing. If I had been more careful and taken more breaks during my sprints, I would not have injured myself and wouldn’t have had to postpone my writing for quite so long.

With the Pomodoro Technique, you take breaks every 25 minutes. This gives you time to stretch and move around, as well as rest your eyes, wrists, and hands. It may feel like you are wasting five precious minutes of writing time, but prolonged typing or staring at the computer screen can have adverse health effects. If you take care of your body, you will be better able to keep writing for the long term.

Not only that, but sometimes a break is just the ticket to help you get unstuck when you’ve written yourself into a corner. A short change of scene or activity can help your mind recharge and when you come back to your writing, you’ll be refreshed and more creative.

How to Use the Pomodoro Technique

Here’s a quick step-by-step on how to use the Pomodoro Technique.

1. Choose a timer. This should preferably be a dedicated timer that you only use for Pomodoro sessions. There are several Pomodoro apps out there (I like an iOS app called Focus Keeper) but you can also use a good, old-fashioned kitchen timer.
2. Set the timer for 25 minutes. During that pomodoro session focus on nothing else except your writing.
3. Take a 5-minute break. When the timer buzzes, stop and take a 5-minute break.
4. Rinse and repeat. Every four pomodoro sprints, extend your break to 15 minutes. 

Just remember that while you are in a pomodoro session, you should not do anything but write. No checking your email, no sending a text message, no logging into social media. All of these things can wait until the pomodoro session is done and you are on your break. If something comes up that is truly important—for example, you have a brilliant idea for another story—jot down a quick note to yourself, then get back to your focused work.

The Pomodoro Technique works best when the task at hand is big and overwhelming. If you choose a task that’s too short, you run the risk of completing the task before the pomodoro session is done. Doing pomodoro sessions is especially helpful when you need to break down a big, scary task (like writing a novel) into smaller, more manageable chunks.

For example, let’s say you are working on a novel or a memoir. It can feel daunting to crank out those 80,000 words, but with the Pomodoro technique, you can break that project down into smaller parts. Let’s do a little back-of-the-envelope math and see how you might map out those incremental steps.

Suppose that in a 25-minute Pomodoro sprint, you can crank out 500 words.That means you’ll need 160 Pomodoros to reach your 80,000-word goal. This may seem like a lot, but if you can do two or three Pomodoros in one day, that brings the number of writing days down to around 64. If you can work on your writing three times per week, you could have your first draft reach “the end” in around five months! Suddenly, that 80,000-word goal might feel a lot more doable.

I would also recommend, when applying the Pomodoro Technique to your writing, that you keep a log so you can track your progress. At DIY MFA, we are big fans of iteration and the best way to tweak and improve your writing process is to log your writing sprints. After all, you can’t modify what you can’t measure.

Make Adjustments to the Technique

As we wrap up this discussion of the Pomodoro Technique, I want to encourage you to give it a try, but also make adjustments as necessary. I find, for example, that for my own writing process, a 25-minute sprint is far too short, but 45 or 60 minutes gives me more time to immerse myself fully in my writing. If I was writing for longer stretches, though, I would also give myself slightly longer breaks, anywhere from 7-10 minutes.

In other contexts, 25 minutes might be too long. For example, in the past I used the technique with my children while helping them practice their instruments. (Little Man plays the piano, Lady Bug the violin.) What I found, though, was that 25 minutes was far too long for them to sustain their focus, so we dropped the length of the sprints to 10 or 15 minutes instead of the typical pomodoro sprint. We took shorter breaks between sessions (sometimes just 2-3 minutes) but they were able to sustain their focus for longer.

This is why I encourage you to experiment with the method and find the format that works best for you. There are no hard-and-fast rules when it comes to the Pomodoro Technique, so try some things out and see which combination of sprint and break lengths are most effective for you. Track your writing sprints and use the data to help you identify which variations work best.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: Why You Should Try the Pomodoro Technique appeared first on DIY MFA.

Character Backstory

This is perhaps the most common form of backstory and it relates to a character’s past. It includes things like childhood events, early traumas, successes and failures, or even secrets that the character might carry. Taken together, these all comprise the character’s history, giving us a sense for who they are and what their motivations might be.

In addition to lending context to motivations, character backstory also helps to shape character arcs. For example, a villain might have an event in their past that made them turn to evil (think Anakin Skywalker in The Revenge of the Sith). Or the hero might have experienced something that shaped their outlook on life and made them into the person they are now.

EXAMPLE: In The Hunger Games, Katniss’ father dies in a mine collapse. When that happens, her mother withdraws into herself, neglecting Katniss and her little sister Prim. From then on, Katniss is the one who has to support the family and keep them from starvation. This leads her to become especially protective of her sister and to take on a leadership role in her family.

World/Setting Backstory

Another common form of backstory shows the history of the world or setting in which the narrative takes place. This is where we learn about important world events like wars, political shifts, natural disasters, or other significant changes. Historical events, like technological revolutions, can also help shape the world. (Think of how the invention of the warp drive impacts the Earth in the Star Trek universe.) Through world/setting backstory we find out why the world is the way it is and what past events have influenced the present.

One reason why this form of backstory is so important is because it creates a sense of realism in the story world. By putting that world into historical context, it not only feels more realistic but also allows readers to understand various setting-related tensions and dynamics.

EXAMPLE: Military conflict is a subtle backdrop in Pride and Prejudice, with Colonel Forster hosting Elizabeth’s youngest sister, Lydia, in Brighton and Mr. Wickham joining the militia early in the book. While we never see any actual fighting, we are constantly reminded that the Napoleonic Wars are happening far off in the background.

Relationship Backstory

This includes past conflicts between characters, interpersonal drama, or romantic interludes. While this type of backstory is similar to character backstory, it is not specific to a single individual but rather involves the relationship between two or more.

This type of backstory adds emotional depth to relationships. When we know characters have a shared history, their present interactions take on more significance. It also opens the door for secrets and other unexpected tidbits to come to light, and it allows room for people both to have falling outs or perhaps to reconcile.

EXAMPLE: In The Great Gatsby, Jay Gatsby and Daisy Buchanan have had a romantic relationship in the past. This romance occurs before the action of the novel takes place and it is the primary motivation for why Gatsby pursues wealth in the attempt to win Daisy back (despite her now being married).

Incident Backstory

These are the events that have happened before the story takes place, like prophesies or past plot points. We see this type of backstory sometimes in mysteries and thrillers, where the crime might occur off the page, before chapter one. We also see incident backstory in speculative fiction, where a prophecy shared in the past reveals some aspect of the present storyline.

Incident backstory sets up the initial conditions for the plot. The story begins and it already has a certain set of “rules” or constraints attached to it. This type of backstory can also help to raise the stakes and create urgency because we know something has happened in the past that will affect the present timeline.

Be careful with prophesies, though. When done well, they can increase the sense of mystery, making the reader want to put the clues together and figure out how that prediction will come into play. But if it is too on-the-nose, that prophecy can squash the mystery out of the story altogether. Worse yet, it can feel unsatisfying to the reader when the prophecy gives us information we already know.

EXAMPLE: in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, a prophecy is revealed linking Harry to Voldemort saying: “neither can live while the other survives.” This prediction foreshadows what must happen at the end of the seventh book in order for Harry to vanquish Voldemort once and for all.

The problem with this prophecy is that it is a little bit obvious and doesn’t reveal anything new that the reader didn’t anticipate. It is clear from the start that eventually, Harry or Voldemort will have to defeat the other, and the prophecy does not add much information beyond that. In the end, we don’t need a prophecy to tell us something we already know.

Object Backstory

This type includes any lore surrounding an object, telling us why it is significant. This context might include the object’s origin story, who owned it previously, what events have transpired surrounding it, and why it is valuable, important, or dangerous.

Significant objects can play an important role in a story, adding symbolism and thematic depth. In particular, if an object becomes a thematic element—used to underscore the book’s theme—it can add substantial weight and cohesiveness to the narrative.

EXAMPLE: In The Hunger Games, Katniss’ friend Madge (the mayor’s daughter) gives her a golden pin shaped like a bird: a mockingjay. These birds are a cross-breed between a genetically engineered weapon (the jabberjay) and a mockingbird. The very existence of the mockingjay is an insult to the oppressive Capitol, which once tried to eradicate that species but failed.

We find out that, when he was alive, Katniss’ father had a special fondness for mockingjays. Later, in the arena, Katniss and her ally Rue use mockingjays to send messages through song. In the subsequent books of the trilogy, the mockingjay becomes the symbol for the revolution.

Cultural Backstory

Social norms, festivals, mythology, and ancestral lore—all these have a history explaining where they come from and why they exist. This is cultural backstory and it includes things like traditions, taboos, and anything else that shapes a society’s culture.

As with world-building backstory, this type adds a sense of realism and immersion, making the reader feel like they are there, in that world, with those characters. Cultural differences can also lead to conflict between groups, so this type of backstory can help to explain why certain tensions exist.

EXAMPLE: When Obi-Wan Kenobi first tells Luke Skywalker about his father and the Force (in Star Wars IV: A New Hope) we learn that a lightsaber is “an elegant weapon for a more civilized age.” We also discover that there are two sides to the Force, and Darth Vader was seduced by the Dark Side. All of these details—sprinkled throughout the dialogue between Luke and Obi-Wan—help to paint a picture of the Jedi culture.

Institutional Backstory

Some places or institutions—like a school, workplace, etc.—are so significant to the story that they have their own history. Institutional backstory includes any past events that occurred within an institution or organization. This might include traditions, successes and failures, secret scandals, and doctrine.

Like world/setting or cultural backstory, this type adds a sense of realism to the institution by giving it a history and context. Plus, this backstory can also help explain organizational policies or reveal hidden agendas.

EXAMPLE: In the Hunger Games trilogy, the Games themselves have a longstanding history. We learn at the Reaping in book one why the Games came into existence in the first place. We also discover the rules of the Games, like how each district must offer up two tributes (one male, one female) between the ages of 12 and 17, and once you win the Games, you are exempt from participating again in the future.

This context is important because in book two, the Capitol breaks the rules and decides to take tributes from existing victors of the Games. Without the institutional backstory of the Games themselves, that change in the rules would have much less significance.

Personal Mythology

This type of backstory includes all of those stories that characters tell themselves. This includes memories that might be re-interpreted, self-justifying narratives, or beliefs that have become ingrained in the character. This is similar to character backstory, but it focuses not on the actual events that occurred in that character’s past, but on their interpretation of those events.

EXAMPLE: In the Myrtle Clover cozy mystery series, the main character (Myrtle) has very strong views about herself and the people around her. As a former English teacher turned amateur sleuth, she thinks highly of her own cognitive abilities and is not particularly impressed with local law enforcement (including her son, who happens to be the police chief for their town).

Myrtle also firmly believes she is an excellent cook (even though her culinary experiments often take a terrible turn). Her high opinion of her own abilities means she often cooks disgusting casseroles to take to families of the murder victims—both as a condolence gesture and as an excuse to visit these suspects and try to extract information from them. 

There you have it: eight different types of backstory, how they work, and why they are important. Keep in mind that a book does not need to have all eight types represented in it. In fact, if you do include them all, you risk overloading your story with too much information and you may bore your reader. Instead, I recommend focusing on the present timeline and sprinkling in backstory as it is relevant. As I often like to say: keep the reader on a “need to know” basis. Give them only the information that they need to know, when they need to know it.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: What Types of Backstory Do You Need? appeared first on DIY MFA.

Once I saw it, the obsession grew. I got the soundtrack (both Broadway and London Cast versions) and spent hours listening to my favorite songs over and over again, until the cassette tapes almost wore out. I would compare the different versions—who was the best Valjean? Which version was the best? Overall I preferred the London version (I mean, Patti LuPone as Fantine, who could beat that?), but I liked the Broadway Javert (Terrence Mann) better and his song, “Stars,” had a much better ending. The version in the London production was anticlimactic by comparison.

In honor of introducing my daughter to Les Miserables, I thought I would do a three-act analysis to see how the framework holds up with a musical. Note that I am basing this analysis on the original Broadway version, since that is the first one I ever saw. Note also that the three-act structure has three acts in it (obviously!) but the show only has two theatrical acts. I will refer to the acts of the musical as “parts” rather than “acts” so as to avoid confusion.

Spoiler Alert! If you haven’t seen Les Miserables, please be aware that there will be spoilers. You can probably figure this out just from the title, but things end badly for just about every character, with only a few minor exceptions. Unfortunately, the show is no longer on Broadway, but there will be a concert version coming to Radio City Music Hall later this year. You can also catch the film version, which is pretty close to the Broadway rendition in terms of songs and structure.That said, this musical is a hundred times better on stage than it is on screen.

Okay, let’s dive into our analysis of Les Miserables.

PROLOGUE: Part 1 of the show begins with Jean Valjean doing hard labor in prison, a sentence he received for stealing a loaf of bread. He has served time for 19 years as prisoner 24601. The first song (“Work Song”) is where he gets paroled and meets Inspector Javert (who is then a prison guard) for the first time.

As part of his parole, he gets a yellow ticket of leave, and everywhere he goes, no one will give him honest work. When he is about to despair, he is taken in by a Bishop, who gives him a place to stay. In the night, Valjean steals some silver and tries to run away but is caught. The constables bring him back to the Bishop, accusing him of theft. The Bishop tells them that he gave the silver as a present and even gives Valjean an additional two candlesticks, saying that he left so quickly, he had forgotten to take them.

Valjean has a conversion of spirit, realizing that the Bishop has given him his freedom. He decides he must turn his life around, so he abandons his identity and reinvents himself as a new person.

ACT 1: Here we flash forward several years, where Valjean—in his new identity—has become a factory owner and mayor of a city. We see the workers in his factory, who are poor and unhappy. Still, they consider themselves lucky to have any job at all.

In the factory, the foreman wants to seduce a young worker, Fantine, but she refuses him. The other factory workers think Fantine is stuck-up, so when she brings a letter with her to work, they steal it from her and read it aloud. It turns out, Fantine has a child who is living with an innkeeper and his wife in some country village. She sends money to help support the child. A fight breaks out between Fantine and the other women. As the factory owner, Valjean steps in and asks his foreman to sort the problem out. The foreman fires Fantine, and she laments the sorry turns her life has taken (“I Dreamed a Dream”).

To survive, Fantine sells her locket and her hair, but eventually must turn to prostitution (“Lovely Ladies”) to survive and send money to her child. When a customer tries to take advantage of her and she fights back, he accuses her of attacking him. Javert (now a Police Inspector) arrests Fantine but as mayor, Valjean intercedes and takes her to a hospital

In another scene, a man is pinned under a runaway wagon and Valjean is able to lift it singlehandedly, saving the man’s life. Javert sees this work of supreme strength and thinks he recognizes Valjean. But, then another man is captured and identified as Valjean, so Javert abandons his suspicions. The Prologue and Act 1 answer the five story promises as follows:

Character: Jean Valjean is our protagonist. He begins in the Prologue thinking only of his own survival, but after the Bishop gives him his freedom, his goal shifts to protecting his identity and keeping his past a secret. What he ultimately wants is his freedom and to stop running from the law.

Voice: While there is no voice because this is a musical, what makes this show so epic is the way the various different melodies weave in and out of each other. The music clues us in, showing us which parts of the story are connected.

World: The story takes place in France in the first part of the 19th century. It begins in a prison in 1815 when Valjean is released. Next, it jumps to 1823 in Montreuil-sur-Mer where Valjean is the mayor. Afterwards, the timeline skips forward yet again, this time to Paris in 1832.

Problem: Jean Valjean is a convicted felon who has skipped parole. In order to continue in his comfortable life, he must hide his identity. He must constantly be looking over his shoulder and running from his past.

Event: At first, Valjean is very hands-off in his dealings with his employees and the poor. Then he meets Fantine among the prostitutes and realizes the consequences of him being so passive.

PIVOT POINT 1:  When the innocent man is captured in his place, the real Jean Valjean is torn between two choices. He can let this man be accused instead of himself and finally have peace of mind that no one will come after him. On the other hand, he can reveal his true identity and be imprisoned all over again. Eventually, during the song “Who Am I?” Valjean decides to reveal his true self as prisoner 24601. The event at this pivot point is the innocent lookalike being captured. The choice is Valjean deciding to reveal his identity.

ACT 2:  Valjean goes to the hospital where Fantine lies dying. While there, he promises her that he will take care of her daughter, Cosette. Javert finds him in the hospital and after a confrontation, Valjean manages to escape. He goes to the countryside and finds Cosette living with the Thénardiers, an innkeeper and his wife. The Thénardiers are con artists, stealing from their customers (“Master of the House”). They treat Cosette like a servant while their own child, Eponine, is spoiled. Valjean pays them 1,500 francs to let him take Cosette away.

From here, we skip forward again, this time to Paris in 1832. The poor are barely scraping by and General Lamarque is the only source of hope the people have for a better life. Unfortunately his death is imminent and there is much public unrest. Students, including Enjorlas and Marius, are getting ready for an uprising.

The Thénardiers have moved to Paris, as have also Jean Valjean and Cosette. Marius and Cosette see each other for the first time and instantly fall in love. At the same time, Eponine, the Thénardiers’ daughter, also secretly loves Marius.

Here we get to a point in the story where multiple things are happening at once. In “Stars,” Javert vows that he will finally find and arrest Jean Valjean. In “Red and Black” and “Do You Hear the People Sing” we see Enjorlas and the other students planning for their revolution. Finally, we get to the midpoint of the story arc.

MIDPOINT: The midpoint of the show does not line up with the division between the two parts. In fact, it comes four songs before. After seeing each other for the first time, Marius and Cosette are in love. In “In My Life,” Cosette starts by singing about her love for Marius but eventually she shifts to asking her father about the past. This section of the song is the midpoint.

This is a Temporary Triumph in that it seems like Valjean has finally escaped his past and found something resembling peace. The moment of introspection is Valjean having to confront the questions Cosette has about his past. In the end he holds fast and does not reveal his secrets.

The song “In My Life” follows an ABA format, in that we have sections about love at the beginning and end, and the middle portion is where Cosette confronts Valjean. The song begins with Cosette singing about her love for Marius. Then she and Valjean sing the next part together until Valjean ends the conversation without revealing his secrets. The last portion of the song is where Marius and Eponine are singing together, him declaring his love for Cosette and her revealing her love for Marius.

ACT 2 (Cont’d): Eponine takes Marius to see Cosette, and they are finally able to meet (“A Heart Full of Love”). Then Thénardier and his gang attempt to rob Valjean’s home, but Eponine is there and sees him. She screams, warning the house of the robbers and Marius runs away. Valjean is terrified that they have been found. He makes plans to leave Paris with Cosette. She does not want to go because she has fallen in love with Marius, but she has no choice.

At this point, we come to the last song in the first part of the show, “One Day More.” This song brings all the characters to the stage and combines several musical themes from across the show, including: “Who Am I?,” “I Dreamed a Dream,” “On My Own,” and “Master of the House.”

Marius decides to fight alongside his friends at the barricade. The students are convinced that the people of Paris will rise up and help their revolution. After joining his friends, Marius sends a farewell letter to Cosette via Eponine (“On My Own”). Valjean intercepts the letter and realizes that Cosette is in love. He decides to stay and eventually makes his way to the barricade to fight. At the barricade, Enjorlas, the revolutionary leader, asks for a volunteer to spy on the military. Javert—who is disguised as a revolutionary—volunteers. When he returns, he tells the others that there will be no attack so they can drop their guard. Gavroche steps up and identifies Javert as an Inspector and they capture him. Valjean is given the opportunity to execute Javert but instead he lets him go.

At the first attack, Eponine is fatally wounded. She dies in Marius’ arms (“A Little Fall of Rain”). The men sing “Drink with Me” and Valjean realizes that Marius is the man Cosette loves.

PIVOT POINT 2: As the men go to sleep, Valjean sings “Bring Him Home,” asking for Marius to be spared. He is reconciled with the fact that he may die at the barricade, but for Cosette’s sake, he wants Marius to survive. The event at this pivot point is him discovering that Marius is the man Colette loves. The choice is Valjean deciding that he will do whatever is in his power to help Marius survive.

ACT 3: The third act of this story is surprisingly short. The second attack happens and the people of Paris do not rise up and fight. The students at the barricade are left to fight on their own and all (except Marius) die at the end of the battle. Valjean survives the attack and is able to rescue an injured Marius and take him down into the sewers to escape. He collapses and Thénardier (who is looting bodies) finds the two and takes a ring from Marius’ finger. When Valjean is finally awake again and is able to exit the sewer, he comes across Javert. 

CLIMAX: Valjean asks Javert to let him take Marius to a doctor. Though it is counter to everything he believes, Javert lets Valjean go. Javert is shaken both by Valjean’s act of mercy in sparing his life and his own act of letting Valjean go. He cannot live with himself and commits suicide.

It is significant to note that the melody we hear in Javert’s last song is the same melody from when Valjean decides to abandon his identity after the Bishop has given him his freedom. This makes sense because both are moments that give Valjean his freedom, though they do so in different ways. In the first instance, Valjean claims his freedom by rejecting his true identity. The second time, Valjean gets his freedom more permanently because Javert has killed himself so he won’t be coming after him any longer. The irony is, of course, that Valjean does not know this. He believes himself to be a fugitive still.

Ending Type: Ironically enough, even though just about everybody dies in this musical, this show actually has a Happy Ending. At DIY MFA we define a happy ending not by the emotion, but by whether the protagonist achieves their goal. A happy ending is one where the main character gets what they want and they still want that thing by the end of the story.

Jean Valjean wants his freedom and he wants to live in peace. At first, he thinks he will achieve this by changing his identity. Eventually, he realizes that freedom is not a matter of identity but of being true to his principles. He chooses to show mercy to Javert, even though that will mean Javert will never stop coming after him. He also chooses to save Marius over running away from Javert and securing his own freedom. In the end, Javert lets him go and eventually kills himself, leaving Valjean finally free. By this definition, the show has a Happy Ending.

DENOUEMENT: Marius recovers from his wounds and grieves his friends (“Empty Chairs at Empty Tables”). Valjean confesses his secrets to Marius, and says he must leave to protect Cosette. He still believes the law is after him.

Marius and Cosette get married. The Thénardiers crash the wedding and try to convince Marius that Valjean is a thief by showing him a ring Valjean supposedly stole from a body at the barricade. Marius recognizes the ring as his own and realizes that Valjean must have been the person who rescued him.

Marius takes Cosette to see Jean Valjean, who is on his deathbed. Valjean dies peacefully, finally getting the freedom he has craved for so long. Knowing that Cosette has Marius and will not be alone allows him to die in peace. As his soul slips from his body, Fantine and Eponine appear, and he goes with them to the afterlife.

CONCLUSION: One of the things that I most love about this show is how the various melodies weave together throughout, making us associate different parts of the show with each other. “One Day More” pulls themes from various different songs in the show (“Who Am I?”, “On My Own”, “I Dreamed a Dream,” and “Master of the House”) but it is by no means the only instance.

For example, the moment where the Bishop forgives Valjean for his theft uses the same musical theme as “Empty Chairs at Empty Tables.” This is significant because when Marius sings the latter song, he is effectively asking his friends for forgiveness because he survived and they did not. Both instances deal with the subject of forgiveness, though in different ways.

Similarly, Fantine and Eponine are linked by the theme of “On My Own.” While Eponine sings the famous song, Fantine sings the same melody with different words in “Come to Me.” Then, at the end, when Valjean dies, the two appear singing that same melody again as a duet. It’s significant that Fantine and Eponine would be thus linked. Both have unrequited loves and both suffered a great deal in their short lives. Most importantly, though, they both want things they cannot have. Fantine wants to be with her daughter, Cosette, and Eponine wants to be loved by Marius. In this way, the music of the show weaves various characters and significant moments together.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: Three-Act Analysis of Les Miserables appeared first on DIY MFA.

The truth about time management is that it’s not actually about time; it’s about other skills like choosing priorities and setting goals. The majority of time management boils down to assessing which tasks need to happen when, and how those tasks fit into a broader project. Time management is also about understanding which blocks of time are most efficient for you, so you can use your time effectively. Time on the clock is only a tiny slice of time management as a whole. Ultimately, time management has little to do with time itself and more to do with making effective choices and being strategic with how you allocate your tasks.

For the next few weeks, I want to delve into different facets of time management. In particular, I see time management having four different areas:

• Choosing priorities (so you know what to tackle first)
• Setting goals (so you can see how small tasks fit the big picture)
• Assessing time quality (so you allocate your time effectively)
• Using the clock (so you can be more efficient with your time)

Today, I wanted to focus on the first topic—choosing priorities. I believe this is the most important element of time management, because it’s all about knowing which tasks to tackle and when to do them. If you get good at choosing priorities, your ability to manage your time will increase exponentially.

But, how do you choose those priorities in the first place? How do you know what tasks to tackle first, and which ones can wait until later? This decision comes down to a couple of different factors.

Task Urgency

Which task has the earliest deadline? What step needs to happen first, so other steps can come later? Which part of a project needs to be done right now? These are all questions relating to the urgency of a given task, and often this is our greatest motivator.

Most of us are driven by urgency. It’s hard to ignore a task when you have a big, glaring deadline hanging over your head. Yet, while urgency is an important factor to consider, we sometimes let it overshadow other factors, like a task’s importance or ease. In other words, we may sometimes get caught up working on unimportant tasks, simply because they are urgent and calling our attention.

Task Importance

Instead of focusing purely on task urgency, we must also consider task importance. This means looking not just at a task’s looming deadline, but also considering why the task matters. In particular, it’s important to think about how a given task contributes to your greater goals. For writers, for example, we might get caught up worrying about immediate deadlines (“Oh no! That newsletter has to go out tomorrow”) instead of giving priority to more important tasks (“I should spend some time writing my manuscript.”) This is where the Eisenhower Decision Matrix can come in handy.

Eisenhower Matrix

Developed by Dwight D. Eisenhower, this two-by-two matrix considers both task urgency and task importance together. To understand where a task falls on the matrix, all you need to do is ask two yes/no questions: (1) Is the task urgent? and (2) Is the task important? (See the diagram below.) You can use this matrix to figure out what course of action to take with a given task.

Depending on where the task lands on the matrix, you will handle it in a different way. If the task is urgent and important, you need to do it right away. If the task is important but not urgent, you need to decide on a time when you will work on it. Important-but-not-urgent tasks are most often the things that will move you closer to your long-term goals, but they are also the easiest tasks to fall by the wayside. If a task is urgent but not important, you should look for a way to delegate that task if at all possible. This will preserve your precious time for the things that really matter. Finally, if a task is neither important nor urgent, you can simply delete it from your to-do list and ignore it altogether.

There are two additional categories that I add to this model but do not appear on the matrix itself. You see, sometimes there’s just no way to delegate or delete a given task. You simply have to do it. In that case, see if you can delay or divide the task so you can buy yourself some extra time. For example, suppose you want to sit down and write but you also have to clean the house. You could hire a housekeeper to do the cleaning (delegate) or simply let the house get overrun with mess (delete), but for many, neither of those options is feasible or optimal. Instead, you could try to delay the cleaning for a few days, or divide the task so you do laundry on one day, clean the windows on another, and so forth.

If I were to recommend the one area of the matrix where you want to spend the most time, it would be the important-but-not-urgent or “decide” box, because those are the tasks that make the most long-term impact, but they are also the ones that are easiest to put off. Because they are not urgent, it’s easy for these tasks to fall to the bottom of the to-do list.

The area on the matrix where most people spend their time is the important-and-urgent or “do” box. This is because these tasks are important (so they can’t be easily delegated) but they are also urgent, so they require immediate attention. I call the “do” box the “swatting flies” box because when we spend too much time there, it often feels like we’re knocking out tasks as though we’re swatting flies. The problem with swatting flies, though, is that the minute we get rid of one, another one shows up.That’s why so many people who spend a lot of time in the “do” box tend to end up burnt out.

Task Ease

A third consideration which does not appear on the Eisenhower matrix is task ease. Sometimes the difficulty of a given task will affect the order in which we tackle it. For example, some people might prefer to knock out all the easy tasks first, to give themselves that fist-pump feeling of accomplishment and to help them build momentum. On the other hand, some folks might prefer to tackle a difficult task first, to get it out of the way and while their mind is still fresh. Regardless of which approach you take, it’s important at least to consider task ease when setting priorities.

This consideration is easily ignored, because it’s not as objective task urgency or importance. Yet I would argue that task ease might just be the most significant of all three components because it considers how you best handle your priorities. You see, priorities are highly personal and what might be nonnegotiable for one person might be less significant to someone else. This is why, when we choose our priorities, we have to allow for a little subjectivity and individuality. Task ease allows for some of that flexibility, as does task preference.

Task Preference

Let’s face it, some tasks are fun and don’t even feel like a burden. Other tasks are about as pleasant as getting a cavity filled. Just like task ease, task preference will vary wildly from one person to the next. Unlike task ease, however, I do think there is an optimal way to handle task preference.

While with task ease there are arguments for either doing easy or difficult tasks first, with task preference, I think the most effective way to do it is to tackle the most unpleasant task first. It’s easy to procrastinate on things we don’t like to do, but if we don’t get those unpleasant tasks done, they’ll just hang over our heads like a sword of Damocles. Instead, what I recommend is to knock out those unpleasant tasks and then reward yourself with the more pleasant ones.

What does this have to do with writing?

As writers, we often have to juggle competing tasks, both in the writing itself, and in the areas of our life that compete with writing. For many of us, life is continually at odds with our creative work and it’s filled with pragmatic responsibilities like going to a day job, cooking meals, cleaning the house, and taking care of kids or aging relatives. With all these things on our plates, we can’t magically make time appear out of nothing, but we can manage our priorities and find ways to put our writing higher up on that to-do list.

Ultimately, time management is not about creating more time—because that’s impossible. Rather, it’s about being more effective in how we use the time we have. This starts with choosing priorities and deciding which tasks you will do when.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: The Truth About Time Management appeared first on DIY MFA.

Spoiler Alert! If you have not read A Christmas Carol, hop to it! It’s a novella, so it’s super-short, plus, you can get a free ebook copy via Project Gutenberg, or read it via your browser. Personally, I recommend the browser version because then you can see the original full-color illustrations by John Leech, which are lovely. Even if you decide to read it via a device, check out those illustrations because they are lovely.

While there have been any number of versions of this story as films, I recommend reading the original. This is because no film version quite captures the nuance and depth of the original text. This is why I have based this entire analysis on the text. Let’s dive into our analysis of A Christmas Carol.

ACT 1: In Act 1, we meet our protagonist, Ebenezer Scrooge. He is a miserly, stingy man, who doesn’t even let his clerk have coal to make a fire. He has a grumpy disposition and he doesn’t care for other people. He is a This excerpt best captures Scrooge’s character:

External heat and cold had little influence on Scrooge. No warmth could warm, no wintry weather chill him. No wind that blew was bitterer than he, no falling snow was more intent upon its purpose, no pelting rain less open to entreaty. Foul weather didn’t know where to have him. The heaviest rain, and snow, and hail, and sleet, could boast of the advantage over him in only one respect. They often “came down” handsomely, and Scrooge never did.

As Act 1 develops, we learn that Scrooge has a particular distaste for Christmas. When people (like his cheerful nephew) mention Christmas, his response is “Bah! Humbug!” Throughout Act 1 we also see examples of Scrooge’s miserly attitude. He refuses to give money to help the poor, absolutely will not dine for Christmas at his nephew’s house, and when his clerk asks for Christmas day off, he balks and says: “”A poor excuse for picking a man’s pocket every twenty-fifth of December!” 

His stinginess is not just reserved for others, but for himself as well. He eats “his melancholy dinner in his usual melancholy tavern” all alone, and even his home is not truly his, but belonged to his deceased business partner, Jacob Marley. After changing for bed, he sits down in front of the fire to eat his gruel. Clearly, while this man has much money, there is nothing about him tht is extravagant.

The five promises also get answered within the first stave (or chapter).

Character: Ebenezer Scrooge is our protagonist and we follow him throughout the story.

Voice: The novella is told entirely through Scrooge’s limited third person point of view so we have access to his thoughts, but no one else’s. Also, keep in mind that the third person narrator occasionally interjects and speaks directly to the reader. This gives us a sense of the story being told to us by someone who has seen the events unfold.

World: The story takes place at the time in which it was published, the mid-9th century. The setting is London.

Problem: Scrooge detests Christmas almost as much as he dislikes being in the company of others or spending money. Yet everyone around him is in the Christmas spirit. His nephew invites him to dine for Christmas. Two gentlemen call upon him at his office, asking for money for the poor. And even his own clerk has the audacity to ask for Christmas day off. Scrooge has jut about had it with all this Christmas nonsense. Bah! Humbug!

Event: The story begins with his partner, Jacob Marley, dead. Seven years later, on Christmas Eve, as Scrooge goes home and opens his front door, the knocker transforms to look like Jacob Marley’s ghostly face.

PIVOT POINT 1:  Scrooge locks the door and retires to his room. Suddenly the ghost of Jacob Marley walks in through the double-locked door, dragging chains and boxes of riches. When Scrooge asks about the chains, Marley says: “I wear the chain I forged in life… I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it.”

Then he continues to tell Scrooge that his own chains will be even heavier and longer in the afterlife. He says: “the weight and length of the strong coil you bear yourself? It was full as heavy and as long as this, seven Christmas Eves ago. You have laboured on it, since.” Scrooge is afraid.

The ghost of Marley tells him that there is a chance for him yet. He will be haunted by three Spirits over the course of three nights. As he says to Scrooge: “”Without their visits… you cannot hope to shun the path I tread.” Scrooge immediately resists, first saying he would rather not, then trying to bargain with the ghost that maybe the Spirits could visit him all at once. While Scrooge does not openly acquiesce, at the end of the stave, when he tries to say “Humbug!” he stops himself.

As we’ve discussed in the past, every pivot point has two components: an external event and an internal choice. In this case, the external event is the appearance of Jacob Marley’s ghost. The internal choice, on the other hand, is Scrooge complying with the visit of the three Spirits.

ACT 2:  In Act 2, we have two of the three Spirit visits: Ghost of Christmas Past, and the Ghost of Christmas Present. (The Ghost of Christmas Future arrives in Act 3) All three of these Spirits take Scrooge around to different locations, where he can see both events of Christmas in the past, present, and future. As Scrooge makes these visits, his outlook begins to change.

Ghost of Christmas Past: This Spirit is small like a child, with a candle flame coming up out of its head and a cap shaped like a candle extinguisher.

The journey begins at the school where he had been a young boy. While all the other boys cheerfully went home for the holidays, Scrooge was left stranded at the school. While he sees himself alone and neglected, he feels pity for his past self and in feeling that pity he begins to empathize with others (in particular a boy who came caroling to his office the day before).

After visiting his former self at school, the Spirit takes him a little into the future, when Scrooge was a young apprentice for Mr. Fezziwig. On Christmas eve, Fezziwig and his wife had all their employees clear away the desks and furniture in the warehouse where they worked and they threw a dance to celebrate the holiday. Seeing the sort of employer that Fezziwig was and how kindly he treated his employees, Scrooge says to the Spirit:

He has the power to render us happy or unhappy; to make our service light or burdensome; a pleasure or a toil. Say that his power lies in words and looks; in things so slight and insignificant that it is impossible to add and count ’em up: what then? The happiness he gives, is quite as great as if it cost a fortune.

Scrooge begins to realize how unkind he has been to his clerk and when the Spirit asks if something is the matter, he says: “​​I should like to be able to say a word or two to my clerk just now. That’s all.”

The third visit Scrooge makes in the past is where he sees himself talking to a young woman. As the scene unfolds, it becomes clear that they have been engaged, but she is now releasing Scrooge of the commitment because she has been replaced with an idol of gold (i.e., money.)

Scrooge’s preoccupation with wealth and greed has supplanted the love he once felt for this young woman, and even if he were to force himself to stand by the engagement, she insists that he would eventually regret it. At this, Scrooge begs the Spirit to stop and show him no more, but the Spirit insists on one more vision. This time the Spirit shows a woman and her children waiting for her husband to get home. The family is loving and kind, a clear illustration of everything that Scrooge could have had but chose to give up.

At this point, Scrooge has had it with the Spirit. He takes its extinguisher cap and plops it on its head, putting out the candle flame and reducing the Spirit to nothing. While Scrooge does have a few moments throughout this journey to the past where he begins to show a change of heart, this final action reveals that he is not yet ready to make a change.

Ghost of Christmas Present: This Spirit is a giant and is dressed in a long robe with a holly wreath on its head. It holds a torch shaped cornucopia.

The first stop on their journey is the house of Bob Cratchit, Scrooge’s clerk. Interestingly, Bob is not mentioned by name until this point in the story. It is as if, until we see him in his home environment, that Bob’s very identity is defined by being Scrooge’s employee. It is only here that we see Bob as a fully-developed character, one with a loving family and a young, disabled son, Tiny Tim.

In this scene at the Cratchit house, Scrooge sees a family that has virtually nothing, but even so are grateful for what they do have. Bob even goes so far as to toast to Scrooge and calls him the “Founder of the Feast.” While his wife is not as enthusiastic about drinking to Scrooge’s health, she eventually does, as do the children. This scene shows Scrooge that true wealth comes from kindness and love, rather than money.

MIDPOINT: During the visit to the Cratchit home, Scrooge asks the Spirit what will become of Tiny Tim. The Spirit answers: “I see a vacant seat… in the poor chimney-corner, and a crutch without an owner, carefully preserved.” This is a false failure because it looks like the worst possible outcome will happen, but it turns out not to be the case. In fact, without Scrooge believing that Tiny Tim would die, he will never reach his change of heart.

When the Spirit tells him what is to come, Scrooge begs the Spirit to let Tiny Tim live and the Spirit quotes his own words back at him: “If he be like to die, he had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.” These are the self-same words Scrooge said earlier when the gentlemen visited his office, asking him to give money to help the poor. In this moment, Scrooge starts to realize that his outlook is wrong. “Scrooge hung his head to hear his own words quoted by the Spirit, and was overcome with penitence and grief.” This is the moment of self-reflection.

ACT 2 (cont’d): The Spirit takes Scrooge to various places where they see people of meager means celebrating the holiday. Eventually, they end up at the house of Scrooge’s nephew. Here the nephew, his wife, and their friends have a jolly celebration filled with food and games. Scrooge gets so wrapped up watching the games that he does not want to leave.

Eventually, Scrooge notices that the Spirit has grown quite old. He asks the Spirit if its life is very short and the Spirit replies that its life ends at midnight that same night.

PIVOT POINT 2: Before the spirit goes, Scrooge sees a claw-like hand emerge from beneath its robes and the Spirit unfolds its robe to reveal two children. The Spirit tells Scrooge:

This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased.

Scrooge asks what can be done and again he hears his own words quoted back to him: “Are there no prisons?… Are there no workhouses?” This is the second pivot point. The external event is the appearance of Ignorance and Want, and the internal choice is Scrooge wanting there to be something that can be done..

Note that many modern adaptations (films, etc.) of A Christmas Carol omit this portion of the story, perhaps because it is the section that feels most on-the-nose and didactic. It is also, in some ways, the most visually disturbing part of the story and stands in direct contrast to the jolly, Christmas imagery in other parts of the novella. Interestingly enough, when adaptations omit this section, they are losing a crucial part of the story arc: the second pivot point.

ACT 3: As Scrooge looks around for the Ghost of Christmas Present, he sees that the Spirit has disappeared and in its place has appeared a silent, looming figure.

Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come: As with the other figures, this one takes Scrooge to various places where he sees shadows of the future. The first stop is a rundown shop where a few people are gathered. They are bringing in things to sell, items belonging to someone who has died. While we do not know the identity of the deceased (though, we can guess!), the purpose of this scene is to show how little these people seem to care about this man. They have even stolen his bedcurtains to sell!

At one point, Scrooge says to the Spirit: “Spirit!… I see, I see. The case of this unhappy man might be my own. My life tends that way, now. Merciful Heaven, what is this!” He has begun to realize that he needs to change his ways, though he has not yet made a full transformation. The scene changes and Scrooge and the Spirit are in a room where a dead man lies covered on a bed. This is the man whose belongings were being sold in the shop and he now lies alone in a room without friends or family to mourn him.

After these, the Spirit takes Scrooge to a home where a woman sits waiting anxiously for her husband by the fire. When he arrives, she asks him what the news is and he replies that the man to whom they owe a sizable sum is dead. (I wonder who that man might be…) While they do not necessarily celebrate the man’s death, they do go to sleep with peace of mind, knowing that their debt will likely be transferred to a more humane creditor.

Finally, the Spirit takes Scrooge back to the Cratchit home, where Tiny Tim has died and the family is in mourning. Unlike the mysterious deceased from the previous scenes who died with out anyone feeling sorry, this family is clearly grieving for its youngest member, in particular Bob Cratchit. This scene shows the immense impact that Tiny Time has made on his family and how much they love him and miss him. It is a stark contrast to the nameless deceased man from the earlier scene in the shop, where all people care about is how to dispose of his belongings.

CLIMAX: The Ghost of Christmas Yet to come takes Scrooge to one final location: a cemetery. The Spirit walks among the graves and points to one in particular. Scrooge approaches the gravestone and sees his own name carved into it. He is the deceased man whose belongings the people in the shop were selling. He is the man lying covered on the bed. He is the creditor whose death the young couple considers with relief. Scrooge finally understands what the Spirits have been trying to show him. He says:

“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone!”

Ending Type: This is a “change of heart” ending. Scrooge starts out the story wanting to have nothing to do with Christmas. He despises other people and wants only to be left alone with his money. lBy the end of the story, he does not get what he wants, but he also no longer wants it. In the climax, he chooses to embrace Christmas and also to treat others with kindness and generosity.

DENOUEMENT: Scrooge finds himself in his room and runs to the window. He calls down to a boy in the street to ask what day it is and learns that it’s Christmas Day. The Spirits have done everything in one night and he has not missed Christmas. He asks the boy to run to the local poulterer and buy the biggest turkey, which he instructs should be sent to the Cratchit house.

Next, he dresses and heads out to his nephew’s home. On his way, he runs into the two gentlemen who had asked him to give money for the poor one day prior. He makes an apology and pledges a large sum of money for their cause. Finally, he arrives at his nephew’s house for Christmas dinner, where he enjoys all the games and joyfulness he had seen on his visit with the Spirit.

Finally, the next day, when Bob Cratchit arrives at work a few minutes late, he summons him to his room and announces that he will give him a raise. Then he tells Bob to get more coal for the fire. The story ends with the narrator telling us:

“…it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! And so, as Tiny Tim observed, God bless Us, Every One!”

I hope this holiday season brings you much joy and happiness, and that the new year gives you renewed energy and excitement for your writing. Remember: the world needs your stories, and there are readers out there waiting with bated breath for a book just like yours. 

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

The post Writer Fuel: Three-Act Analysis of A Christmas Carol appeared first on DIY MFA.

The Importance of Reading with Purpose

When I used to interview guest authors on DIY MFA Radio, I used to end each episode with the same question: “What’s your #1 tip for writers?” Hands down, the most common answer to that question was: “Read, read, read,” and it’s no wonder why. Reading is one of the most crucial parts of a literary life. If writers want to improve their craft, they need to read.

A writer who doesn’t read is like a chef who doesn’t eat. They have no idea if what they’re creating is any good because they can’t put their work into context. Reading with purpose allows us to see how our books fit in the greater literary landscape and understand how to make our writing better. It also allows us to see how other writers solve certain problems and we can borrow those solutions and apply them to our own work.

Note that this doesn’t mean we are copying someone else’s writing, not by a long shot. Instead, think of it as like being a mechanic, looking under the hood of a car to see how it works. When we read with purpose, we analyze another writer’s work to see how they do things, then we apply the concepts to our own writing to make it better. We’re not copying the author’s actual words or ideas, but we’re looking at the way they do things and then borrowing some of those strategies.

What Reading with Purpose Entails

Reading with purpose means reading with an eye toward your writing. It means having a core set of books on hand—what I call “the essentials”—so you have ready resources when you need them. It means being strategic when you select books, so your reading will help you with your current work-in-progress. Most importantly, it means reading with an analytical perspective, so you can understand more fully how a piece of literature works, and apply some of those concepts to your own writing. There are three important components of reading with purpose:

1. Having a select group of essential books on hand
2. Compiling a reading list that servers our goals
3. Reading with a writer’s eye

Essential Books to Have on Hand

There are three books that I recommend every writer have in their library. I know what you’re thinking—only three? Yes, you only need three, and these three will be different for each writer. If you’re like most writers, you probably have more than one book in each of these categories, but at the minimum I recommend having one of each. To remember the three books, just think of your ABCs.

• A = Anthology of Short Form Work
• B = Book of Prompts
• C = Craft Reference

Anthology of Short Form Work: It’s useful to have an anthology of short stories, preferably in your chosen genre. If you write memoir, then look for an anthology of essays, and if you write poetry, get your hands on an anthology of poems. Make sure that what you choose is a true anthology with stories by a variety of authors and not a collection by a single author. This is because you want a book that represents the broadest possible range of voices. My go-to short story anthology is The Art of the Short Story, edited by Dana Gioia and R.S. Gwynn. It’s not super-new but it has the classics.

Book of Prompts: A book of prompts is always good to have on hand. I’m especially a fan of prompt books that are organized according to topic (dialogue prompts in one chapter, description prompts in another, etc.). The two prompt books I recommend are: The 3 A.M. Epiphany (and its sequel, The Four A.M. Breakthrough) by Brian Kiteley and the Now Write! series edited by Sherry Ellis and Laurie Lamson. Both series group the prompts by category, only in the Kiteley books, the prompts are by only one author, while in the Now Write! series, the prompts are from various different authors.

Craft Reference: It’s helpful to have a craft reference handy in case you run into questions you don’t know how to answer. Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style is, of course, the classic for matters regarding style and grammar. For broader craft topics, I love books by Donald Maass, Lisa Cron, and Steven James. For “small craft” (i.e., sentence-level stuff) check out Barbara Baig’s Spellbinding Sentences. And, of course, the DIY MFA book also gives an overview of general craft topics.

Building a Reading List

One of the most important parts of reading with purpose is compiling a reading list that truly serves your writing. I remember in the MFA program, reading some books that were completely irrelevant to what I was writing. I kept wondering “what’s the point?” It felt a bit like an exercise in futility. That’s why, when I started DIY MFA, one of the first things I did was develop a rubric so that writers could come up with their own reading list, their own syllabus. This rubric consists of four types of books:

1. Comps: Comparable books (i.e., comps) are similar to your book and would sit on the bookstore shelf next to yours. If a librarian were to recommend a book similar to yours, they would choose one of these comps.
2. Contextual: These are books you read for research. They may not be similar to your book in all respects, but they may have certain aspects in common, like the same setting, or a similar use of point of view. These books lend context to yours.
3. Contemporary: You need to keep your finger on the pulse of your genre or category. This is why it’s important to read a few contemporary books, so you can be aware of trends and know what’s new in your niche.
4. Classics: Everyone should read a classic at least once in a while. Keep in mind, classics don’t necessarily need to be hundreds (or thousands) of years old. Depending on your genre or category, books considered classics might actually be fairly recent.

Reading Like a Writer

I often call reading like a writer “reading like a revolutionary.” This is because when we read with a writer’s eye, we aren’t just passively taking in the story. Instead, we are actively analysing it, not just to understand, but to apply the concepts to our own writing. The key to reading like a writer is examining how the author does what they do on the page, and then considering which of those techniques you can borrow.

How to Read with Purpose

Reading with purpose is like swimming in the ocean: the swimmer is the reader and the ocean is the story. Like the ocean, the story has different layers of depth and reader-swimmers can explore some or all of those layers, depending on their inclination.

Ocean Surface: The WHAT

Most readers/swimmers skim across the surface, because that’s where the air is. At this surface level, they focus on the WHAT of the story (i.e., the logistics). At this level, the reader is con What’s happening? Who are the characters? What is the setting?

These basic, logistical considerations are what we focus on, particularly when we’re first developing as readers. These are the types of questions my kids would have to answer for homework in elementary school. They don’t require deep analysis, just a basic understanding of the facts.

There is nothing wrong with hanging out at the surface. That’s how most people read much of the time. This is the layer where you simply get carried away by a good story, and that’s a perfectly respectable way to read. But, if you want to read like a writer, you have to go deeper.

Coral Reef: The WHY

The second layer of reading is that in-between space between the ocean surface and the ocean floor. Imagine this layer as being like a coral reef with hundreds of colorful fish, lush corals, and brightly patterned shells. This reef represents the WHY of the story (i.e., the interpretation).

This is the layer where we consider deeper, more analytical questions. What does this story mean? Why did the author write this story? How does this story fit into the greater literary context? This is how we were taught to read in high school or college literature classes. We learned to go deeper than pure logistics, but still not quite all the way to the ocean floor.

Keep in mind, reading at this layer can be hard to sustain and you can’t do it indefinitely, just as a swimmer can’t stay underwater for hours on end. Instead, when we analyze literature in this way, we usually do so for contained, specific passages, rather than for the entirety of a book-length work.

Ocean Floor: The HOW

Finally, we get to the third layer. For this one, imagine you’re bobbing along on the surface of the ocean and then you spot a sparkling gem on the ocean floor. Then, you take a deep, gulping breath and you dive all the way to the bottom to retrieve it.

This is what we do when we read for the HOW. We look deep at another author’s work and we spot the gems, and we analyze what that author is doing to understand how exactly they managed to pull it off. Then, we take that gem and we see how we might apply it to our own work.

As with the coral reef layer, this deep dive is difficult to sustain for long passages. We can analyze a writer’s work at this profound level only for short passages. If we try to read an entire book at the ocean floor level, it will be very challenging. This is why reading like a writer is a delicate, aquatic dance, where we continuously shift up and down, from the surface to the ocean floor.

Personalized Anthology Project

One activity I often recommend to writers is to compile a personalized anthology. Whenever you read something and you come across a passage that captures your attention, make a photocopy and put it in a binder. Annotate each excerpt using the WHAT/WHY/HOW framework and once you have ten or more of them in the binder, sort them according to topic (character development, story structure, world-building, description, dialogue, etc.)

The idea here is that over time, you will amass a collection of excerpts specifically from books that are relevant to your writing—because they’re books you selected, not someone else like a professor. The fact that the passages are sorted by topic will make it easier for you to find what you need. Stumped by setting? Look at some of the world-building excerpts in your binder. Not only will they help you figure out craft-related techniques, but they will be directly relevant to what you’re writing.

Until next time, keep writing and keep being awesome!

P.S. For more info on Gabriela Pereira, the founder and instigator of DIY MFA, check out her profile page.

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