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OnWriting

January 2, 2023 by Craig DiLouie Leave a Comment

Selection of articles and slide decks for presentations Craig DiLouie has done on writing craft:

The Best Advice I Ever Got as a Writer (Wordbridge 2023 Presentation)

This Is Your Brain on Reading

This Is Your Brain on Writing

47 Tips for Effective Dialogue, Part 1

47 Tips for Effective Dialogue, Part 2

A Few Words on Words

When Words Collide Presentation on Character Arcs

Theme, Symbolism, and Figurative Language, Part 1

Theme, Symbolism, and Figurative Language, Part 2

Theme, Symbolism, and Figurative Language, Part 3

Great books on writing and writers: ANATOMY OF STORY by John Truby, STORY ENGINEERING by Larry Brooks, TAKE OFF YOUR PANTS! by Libbie Hawker, THE WRITING LIFE by Jeff Strand.

Filed Under: Writing/Publishing

This Is Your Brain on Writing

November 16, 2021 by Craig DiLouie Leave a Comment

In my last post, I described a journey I took to better understand the science of reading and what insights I could gain from it as a writer. I found the topic fascinating enough to keep going.

What about writing? What’s happening in our brains while we produce stories? What could I learn from this to be a better writer?

Writing and the brain

The process of creative formulation and physical writing lights up a whole lot of the human brain. Language, cognition, memory, visual processing, planning and control, and the ability to make associations between unrelated concepts all come into play. The prefrontal cortex, the anterior cingulate cortex, Broca’s area, posterior cingulate cortex, and hippocampus.

A small number of studies have looked at the concept of “story creation” and what areas of the brain might be involved. In one study from 2005 (Howard-Jones et al), participants were presented with a set of three words and asked to create a story based around them while getting a brain MRI. The researchers found activity not just in the brain’s language region but also the region responsible for making associations between unrelated concepts.

In a later study in 2013 (Shah et al), participants were given 30 words, asked to brainstorm a story, and then given two minutes to write during an MRI. The researchers found activity in the region responsible for planning and control during the brainstorming.

Writers are born and made

One can’t consider the brain of a writer without wondering if there’s something different about it that makes that person predisposed to being one.

The popular conception is that writers are born with all their talent, creativity can’t be taught, and inspiration arrives like lightning allowing the mad writer to crank out a great work.

The reality is that while creativity is a function of intelligence, the majority of people have creative problem-solving skills, and the actual skills involved in writing can be taught. Writers do not have to write in a vacuum but can benefit from criticism as long as it is thoroughly constructive. Writing is hard work, and writers have more control over their work than might be felt during the process.

In fact, practice makes perfect, and writing is no exception, as borne out by research suggesting veteran writers have brains tuned for writing. If you’re like me, you’re a better writer today than you were last year, and not as good a writer as you’ll be next year.

In one study led by Martin Lotze, German researchers observed brain activity during the writing process and discovered that brain activity is different between novices and veterans. The brain activity of professional writers is similar in some ways to the brains of other skilled people like musicians or athletes, Lotze concluded.

In short, like a violinist who has to make a lot of racket before getting good, be prepared to grow as a writer by writing.

Writer traits

What else can we learn about how the writing brain behaves?

Fortunately for us, there has been an explosion of psychological research in this area in recent years. In one study, researchers at the University of California attempted to profile the psychology of the creative writer by evaluating 30 distinguished writers over three days in a “live-in” assessment.

They found five common traits: possessed a high intellectual capacity, valued intellectual and cognitive matters, valued independence, had high verbal fluency and quality of expression, and enjoyed aesthetic impressions.

In another qualitative study, researcher Jane Piirto studied writers listed in the Directory of American Poets and Writers. She collected and analyzed interviews, memoirs, and biographies.
She too found five distinguishing traits: high levels of ambition (and envy!), high concern with philosophical issues such as the meaning of life, high levels of frankness and risk-taking, high value on empathy, and a keen sense of humor.

Yes, writers are awesome.

But… they’re also more likely to have certain mental issues.

Researcher A.M. Ludwig compared 59 female writers to 59 matched controls and found the writers suffered from higher levels of depression, mania, panic attacks, generalized anxiety, eating disorders, and drug abuse. Members of artistic professions, he found in subsequent research, were twice as likely to suffer from two or more psychological disorders as people in other professions.

At the same time, it is interesting to note that despite this, writers remain prolific, which is a sign of resilience, health, and strength of ego.

Fortunately for us, writing is also therapeutic. It’s commonly used as a therapeutic tool based on the premise that writing’s one feelings causes emotional trauma to fade along with growing self-awareness and self-development. And it just feels good.

The flow

Now let’s get into the creative process. The process of writing is highly varied depending on the writer, but scientists have attempted to identify the stages in the creative process.
One of the most popular is the Wallace 4-step process: preparation (gather information), incubation (subconscious works on ideas), illumination (make connection between ideas), and implementation (ideas become reality via critical thinking). To which creative frustration may be added (is this story working?).

M. Csikszentmihalyi conducted a qualitative study of creative people, including prominent writers, who described experiencing “flow” during the process of writing. The writers described flow as a state of extreme concentration, challenge, skill, and reward.

SK Perry advised writers on how to get flow going. Be passionate about your project, get feedback, engage in preparation rituals—such as stopping work in the middle of a scene or sentence, allowing you to start again quickly next time—and minimize anxiety about a critical reception for your work.

I think that last one is a crusher—the fear nobody will like what you’ve created—necessitating very supportive and constructive feedback.

One way to get creativity flowing is to become exposed to others’ creative ideas. In one MRI study, 31 participants were asked to come up with alternate uses for everyday objects. Some of the participants were shown ideas of others, which resulted in increased neural network activity and subsequent greater originality.

For writers, this might mean reading the work of other authors, joining writing groups, attending writing conventions, and finding a constructive Ideal Reader.

Writer’s block

Sometimes, creativity doesn’t come easily, and it’s hard to get into the flow. Writers call this “writer’s block.” But is this a problem of producing words, or of coming up with what happens next?
Some writers freeze up at that commitment because of fear or lack of confidence. Again, that sense all this hard work will only lead to harsh criticism.

“Writer’s block is a highly treatable condition,” wrote Dr. P. Huston, University of Ottawa Heart Institute. “A systematic approach can help to alleviate anxiety, build confidence, and give people the information they need to work productively.”

He wrote a whitepaper on how to treat writer’s block. The document was aimed at academic writers, but I think it’s readily applicable to fiction.

Basically, he says if there’s a mild blockage, establish realistic expectations, allow yourself to be imperfect (write a draft), sidestep whatever is blocking you, and optimize your writing conditions. If there is moderate blockage, imagine you are someone you admire writing, talk through your work with a sympathetic ear, write stream of consciousness to prime the pump, or take a break. And if the blockage is severe, consider cognitive or behavioral therapy or imposing a system of negative consequences (such as an app where you have to give money to a charity you hate if you miss a writing goal).

Parting words

“What an astonishing thing a book is,” said scientist Carl Sagan. “It’s a flat object made from a tree with flexible parts on which are imprinted lots of funny dark squiggles. But one glance at it and you’re inside the mind of another person, maybe someone dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, an author is speaking clearly and silently inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people who never knew each other, citizens of distant epochs. Books break the shackles of time. A book is proof that humans are capable of working magic.”

Thank you for joining me on this journey to uncover the scientific foundation for this magic, which I hope you found as inspiring as I did.

Filed Under: Cool Science, Craig at Work, WRITING LIFE, Writing/Publishing

This Is Your Brain on Reading

November 16, 2021 by Craig DiLouie Leave a Comment

A number of years ago, a woman told me that one of my horror novels had made her cry. As a horror writer, I found this music to my ears.

Afterward, I started to think about what exactly had happened there. I typed up a bunch of words that popped into my head as complex ideas, they were printed as abstract symbols, her brain decoded them, and then she felt a visceral reaction.

We take this all for granted, but it’s pure magic.

But it also isn’t magic. Something happens between the writer and the reader.

What are the underlying mechanisms?

This started me on an exploratory journey—a meditation on what happens to our brains on reading and writing, and what insights we can glean from that.

In this first post, we tackle the reading brain.

Reading and the brain

At a basic level, reading involves decoding a string of abstract symbols and translating it into complex ideas. In reality, a whole lot more is going on.

Consider the sentence, “The baker had a kindly face.” Reading something basic like this, we are using the language processing parts of our brains. Notably Broca’s area, which enables production of speech, and Wernicke’s area, which enables comprehension.

Now consider this sentence: “The baker had an open jar of cinnamon under his nose.” A whole different brain area lights up—the primary olfactory cortex, which enables detection of odors. As if we were actually smelling it ourselves.

In a 2006 study conducted in Spain, researchers had subjects read words strongly associated with odors along with neutral words, and then conducted MRI scans of their brains. (These scans are very useful for neuroscientific research because they show relative blood flow in the brain. More blood means work is being done there.) The researchers found that when reading odor-associated words like “cinnamon” and “coffee” and “perfume,” the subjects’ primary olfactory cortex became stimulated.

Now read this: “The baker held the jar in his leathery hands.”

Our sensory cortex just engaged. This was discovered by research such as a 2012 study at Emory University, which found that sensory metaphors like “velvet voice” and “leathery hands” stimulated the sensory cortex—as if the readers were touching something themselves. Cliché figures of speech like “a rough day” and general descriptions like “a pleasing voice” did not.

It goes to show that evocative language awakens the reader’s senses, while clichés and non-evocative language does not.

Our story goes on: “Inspired by the baker, she jogged home and hammered out a first draft on her keyboard.” Reading this, of course, stimulates the motor cortex.

This was discovered in research such as a 2013 study at the Laboratory of Language Dynamics in France, which found the motor cortex became stimulated when subjects read a sentence describing a physical act, such as, “Pablo kicked the ball.” In fact, the brain activity was specific to parts of the cortex when motion was related to specific body parts.

So what does all this mean? The brain, it seems, does not make much of a distinction between reading about an experience and encountering it in real life. In each case, the same neurological regions are stimulated.

“The neural changes that we found associated with physical sensation and movement systems suggest that reading a novel can transport you into the body of the protagonists,” said Dr. Gregory Berns of Emory University. “We already knew that good stories can put you in someone else’s shoes in a figurative sense. Now we’re seeing that something may also be happening biologically.”

Theory of mind

Finally, read this: “After she was done writing, she looked around her empty house and felt alone and unloved. She knew what she had to do. She would…”
So, what does she do next?

Think about it.

Have an answer? Good. You just used a whole other part of your brain: the prefrontal cortex that enables cognition, personality, decisions, and social behavior; and the superior temporal sulcus, which enables multisensory processing. A whole lot is going on as networks in your brain used to navigate interactions with other people are put to work.

In 2011, Raymond Mar conducted a meta-analysis of 86 MRI studies and discovered a major overlap in the brain networks we use to understand stories and the networks we use to interact with other people. In particular, interactions where we try to figure out what other people are thinking and feeling. This ability to conceive a map of other people’s intentions is called “theory of mind.”
Stories exercise this ability as we identify with characters’ feelings, figure out their motives, and track their intentions. Because of this, reading is not only enjoyable but also biologically adaptive.

“Fiction narratives supply us with a mental catalog of the fatal conundrums we might face someday and the outcome of the strategies we could deploy in them,” wrote Harvard University’s Steven Pinker, author of How The Mind Works.

Besides this, there is evidence reading improves vocabulary, fosters empathy and emotional intelligence, is therapeutic, and changes minds. Combined with the experiences and wonder it offers, reading is simply one of the most enjoyable things humans can do.

Writing for readers

When I think about reading’s effect on the brain, I can’t help but recall one of my favorite quotes from Wonder Boys: “She read everything every spare moment. She was a junkie for the printed word. And lucky for me, I manufactured her drug of choice.”

How do we as writers stimulate the reader’s brain in just the right way? While the science of reading became far better understood just in the last one or two decades, interestingly, writers have known all along. In other words, the research reinforces the basic tenets of story.

Hook the reader’s attention by capitalizing on human interest in danger and surprise. Build a connection with the protagonist quickly to stimulate oxytocin, an empathy chemical in the brain. Challenge the protagonist with obstacles to achieving their goal. If your story has theme, connect the protagonist’s struggle and transformation to the broader world shared with the reader. Use language to produce as sensory and engaging an experience as possible. And take the time to learn craft until it’s internalized and becomes a toolset used as needed.

In a subsequent post, “This Is Your Brain on Writing,” we’ll take a look into the brain of the writer while they’re doing all this.

Filed Under: Cool Science, Writing/Publishing

THOUGHTS ON THEME, SYMBOLISM, AND FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE: Part 3

September 1, 2021 by Craig DiLouie 1 Comment

In this post, we’re gonna talk about figurative language and how writers can use it to tell better stories.

FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE

When people say, “it’s a figure of speech,” they’re referring to one of the many types of figurative language shown here. What they all have in common is their use can be very stimulating to a reader’s brain if cliché is avoided. When readers praise “good writing,” a lot of times, they’re talking about this stuff.

Figurative language really is stimulating to readers. In a study conducted by the University of Ontario, participants read a story, some of which included metaphors and some that didn’t, and then evaluated photographs of eyes to identify true emotional state. Those who read the stories that included metaphors were significantly better at identifying the emotional state.

In a second experiment, participants listened to stories being read and then rated the speaker. Speakers who used metaphors were judged to be friendlier and more intimate. This makes figurative language powerful stuff for a writer.

Let’s look at a few of the more popular forms.

Metaphor

A metaphor describes something as being like something else even though they’re not literally equivalent. Usually, the comparison is between something abstract or unfamiliar with something familiar, such as, “All the world’s a stage” or “life is a burning candle.” The result can express symbolism or be generally stimulating.

The metaphor can be explicit, making it a metaphor, or implied, as in the example, “It was another day playing my part with the same old script.”

Simile

Another type of metaphor is a simile, in which one thing is compared to a different thing with a similar characteristic to make a point or enhance a description. “Life is like a box of chocolates.” Similes are easily recognizable as they use the word “as” or “like” to make the comparison.

On a final note, the comparison is usually similar in a simile. If the comparison is between two things that are very different, it’s called a conceit. An example is “fit as a fiddle,” though conceits don’t always use “as” or “like.”

Using Metaphor and Simile

The first bit of advice is obvious, which is to avoid mixing metaphors and similes in proximity in the text. And to avoid mixing incongruous metaphors, and mixing similes together. You can write, “This truck is a rock, it forges ahead no matter what,” and the reader will understand the meaning of the sum, but it just doesn’t sound right because the individual ideas don’t mesh in a congruent way. In dialogue, of course, you can do anything if it serves the character, but in narrative, not so much. Personally, I subscribe to the theory that the best writing goes unnoticed so that the reader becomes more immersed in the story. If you’re going to call attention to your writing, however, you always want the reader to go, “Nice,” rather than, “Oh, that’s right, I’m reading a book.” For me, that’s my primary guide.

Otherwise, avoid cliches unless you’re going for an intentional effect. Be provocative but clear, functional, relatable to the point of view, and supportive of the tone or theme. When possible, try to arouse the reader’s senses such as taste, touch, and so on.

One clever way to use metaphor or simile in a science fiction or fantasy novel is to make up new ones for a specific world or culture. While it may be tempting to say, “solid as a gloobnorb” for color, it would probably work better if the reader was informed previously what a gloobnorb is.

Here’s a bunch of examples. As you can see, simile can go a long way to add color, stimulate the reader, and aid immersion.

Analogy

An analogy uses a metaphor, simile, or conceit to make a larger point. It’s not a figure or speech but instead a type of argument. When Forest Gump says, “Life is like a box of chocolates,” that’s a simile. When he adds, “You never know what you’re gonna get,” he’s making an analogy. By explaining how life is like a box of chocolates, we learn something about both.

Other Figures of Speech

And that’s it! Thanks for checking out this little series on theme, symbolism, and figurative language. I hope you find out it useful.

Filed Under: Craig at Work, The Blog, Writing/Publishing

THOUGHTS ON THEME, SYMBOLISM, AND FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE: Part 2

September 1, 2021 by Craig DiLouie 1 Comment

In this post, we’re gonna talk about symbolism and how writers can use it to tell better stories.

SYMBOLISM

Symbols, motifs, and metaphors are part of the story’s image system and can be used to express tone and/or theme. It’s been said that if themes are subliminal, the image system is like subliminal advertising.

But wait, using symbols? Isn’t that pretentious?

Nope, it’s just a tool. Whether it works or not is all in how well it’s used.

So what is a symbol? It’s an object, action, word, or event used to represent an abstract idea, thereby giving it larger meaning in relation to the story. Using symbolism, theme is expressed or reinforced without becoming explicit. One might call it a hidden language or code in the story.

Symbols don’t have to be brilliant and original. They just have to be effective.

Neo’s sacrifice in the MATRIX is symbolic of Christ’s crucifixion and renewal ridding the world of corruption and creating something new and pure.

The red A in THE SCARLET LETTER symbolizes adultery and religious disapproval, but it also symbolizes the pure love Hester and John have.

The sled named Rosebud in CITIZEN KANE symbolizes innocence, the beauty of children appreciating the simple things in life.

In FOREST GUMP, the feather that floats through the air at both the beginning and end symbolizes his life, going with the flow and finding happiness wherever he goes as Mama taught him.

The scarlet letter, Rosebud, and feather are actually motifs, which are recurring symbols. We’ll talk more about that in a bit. First, let’s talk about ways you can use symbolism in your writing.

How to Use Symbolism

Look for elements that express tone or theme. For example, a story that is thematically about death might feature elements like a coffin, hourglass, bells, orchids, winter, etc. The symbol can be brazen or more subtle or assigned its own meaning.

An easy step is to start producing a symbol web. These are colors, objects, smells, weather, and setting elements that convey mood, tone, or theme. The primary purpose of these things is to advance or serve the story, but they carry the secondary thematic or tonal purpose.

Some genres provide a ready-made symbol web. In classic Western stories, you have six-guns, horses, badges, saloons, and so on. Since they are expected, you can use them freely, or you can reverse them as a twist, as in the old TV show COLUMBO, or because it serves the theme, such as in SHREK.

Symbols can be in the background, though an effective approach to conveying theme can be to have characters focus on things that have symbolic value. This should be sparing and as always, avoid overly calling attention to its importance as a symbol. The reader usually should conclude but not be told it has symbolic value.

For example, in ARRIVAL, both the story structure and the alien language are circular, showing how everything is connected and how time can be manipulated so that everything is happening at once. This idea expands in the viewer’s mind as the story reaches its conclusion. Even the protagonist’s daughter’s name, Hannah, is symbolic, as it’s a palindrome.

As with general theme, symbolism can be planned or pantsed and then tuned in a second draft. Internalize the theme and go from there. Start with a feeling.

MOTIFS

More intentional symbols tend to show up as motifs in story. This is a recurring image, idea, or symbol that expresses or reinforces theme. The repetition is key, but that repetition must be meaningful and relevant. Motifs tend to be abstract.

In THE SIXTH SENSE, the color red shows up as a motif, representing anything connected to the spirit world, particularly a certain doorknob for a certain door that is always locked, as it leads to a room where the protagonist will learn his true nature. In GROUNDHOG DAY, the groundhog is a motif representing the protagonist repeating the same day over and over. And in THE HUNGER GAMES, the mockingjay is an accidental creation of the ruling regime that symbolizes the ability to survive in any environment and becomes the symbol of rebellion.

MacGuffins can be motifs. This is an object or event that doesn’t really do much besides drive the plot. In THE MALTESE FALCON, The Maltese Falcon itself is a MacGuffin. By making it symbolic of something important to the protagonist, it can be elevated above a mere device to be symbolic.

How to Use Motif

In THE ANATOMY OF STORY by John Truby, he recommends a few pointers for using motif.

Unless it’s a MacGuffin, introduce it in a matter-of-fact manner, and then reintroduce it later in a different context that produces a stronger feeling and communicates theme. The first and last appearances should tie together.

One approach is to connect the motif to character change. The element is introduced when the character’s need becomes known, and then reintroduce it later in a new context, maybe to hammer it home to the protagonist that they need to change, or maybe symbolic that change has happened.

THE LORD OF THE FLIES provides two great examples of motifs. In this story, a group of English schoolboys are marooned on an island and eventually become wild as they shed their civilized behavior. There are two important motifs.

One is a conch shell the boys use to hold orderly, democratic meetings, which symbolizes order and civilized behavior. When the shell is destroyed, order is destroyed, and the reader really feels it in the gut as a result. The same with Piggy’s glasses, which are used to make fire and therefore symbolize civilization and rescue. When the glasses are broken, the boys reject civilization.

Leitmotif

A leitmotif is a recurring image associated with a person, situation, or idea. The thematic music in JAWS when the shark shows up or the horses whinnying whenever Frau Blucher’s name is mentioned in YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN.

As a fictitious example, suppose all the dogs in the neighborhood bark whenever a monster is nearby. Then one night, the howling cuts off to become dead silence. This could signal some important change, such as tonight is the night the monster will attack.

On to Part 3, Figurative Language

And that’s symbolism! In Part 3 of “Thoughts on Theme, Symbolism, and Figurative Language,” we’re going to zero in on figurative language.

Filed Under: Craig at Work, The Blog, Writing/Publishing

THOUGHTS ON THEME, SYMBOLISM, AND FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE: Part 1

September 1, 2021 by Craig DiLouie Leave a Comment

In this post, we’re gonna talk about how to write books with careful attention to theme.

GENESIS

My first book for a Big 5 publisher was a vampire novel. The plot was a plague kills the world’s children only to bring them back as vampires. Their parents need to get them blood so they can continue surviving. The kids are vampires, but the parents in the book are the monsters, willing to do whatever it takes to keep their kids alive.

Soon after this book’s writing, I attended a Horror Writers Association event, where I caught a panel where a writer advised the audience to always try to sell the nonfiction concept. For my novel, it became a question: How far would you go for someone you love? This question became the focus of how I talked about it and helped market it.

But wait! Theme and symbolism, that’s for pretentious writers and English majors plumbing classics for hidden meanings, right?

At least, I thought so at one time. I found this prejudice getting in the way. What it took me a while to discover in my writing journey is how important it is and how I could use it to tell stories that achieve a much more powerful effect than the sum of their words. I learned I’d been using theme all along, but by not fully understanding it, I’d given up the potential to control it and use it to the story’s best advantage.

The truth is theme is not necessarily esoteric nor the product of genius but just another part of the foundation of a good story, and a tool I could use to tell better stories. Readers want it, and they respond to it. It provides writers another way to get readers to fall in love, another aspect of story that writers can control, and so I wanted to understand it better and add this tool to my writing toolbox.

This led me on an exploration of theme and the many ways it can be expressed. Since SUFFER THE CHILDREN, I’ve done three novels with Orbit, the spec fiction brand at Hachette, and each centers on a strong theme, so you could say I’ve become a believer.

And all that led me to this presentation on what I’ve learned, which I’m happy to share with you in three posts: this one on theme, the second on symbolism, and the third on figurative language. So, without further ado, let’s jump in.

THEME

First, let’s talk about theme itself.

Below is a mind map of a novel. It starts with a subject, for example a war of succession in a fantasy kingdom. This comes to live through the active drivers of character, dialogue, and plot. The more passive drivers are on the right, and these are setting, image system, and theme.

As you can see, theme is important, and it shouldn’t be confused with the subject. As for the image system, that deals with language, and we’ll get into that shortly.

So what’s theme? The dictionary tells us it’s an idea that is recurrent or pervasive in a story or other piece of art.

One way to look at theme is it’s the nonfiction concept of the book. Where a nonfiction book explicitly spells out the theme, in fiction it’s typically implicit.

Otherwise, it might be considered the story’s unifying idea, moral, or soul. It provides a way to describe the story in a single sentence. Multiple themes are possible.

Forget high school or university, where finding theme was homework.

So if plot is what happens, character is why it happens, and setting is where it happens, theme is what it all means.

In the case of our example of SHREK shown below, the theme is “you are what you do, not what you look like,” and, “if you love yourself, you can be loved and love others.”

“So what’s your book about?” This is a question all writers crave hearing but dread answering. Theme provides a simple way to describe it. Let’s take IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE as an example. Going with its premise, one might describe it: “An angel proves a suicidal man his value by showing him what the world would be like if he’d never been born.” Going by its central conflict, one might describe it: “A man battling a rich banker is shown what the town would be like if he’d never been born and learns his value.” Going with theme: “A novel that demonstrates how a single person can make all the difference in the world.”

Why theme is important

Now that we know what theme is, why should we care about it?

Theme teaches readers something about life, gives them food for thought that lasts after they close the covers, and gives them another point of engagement with the story.

For writers, it helps focus the story, can inform story choices, provides a way to test characters, and can help with marketing.

Basically, this is what we want to see happen:

Below are examples of subjects and theme. By differentiating the two, this is how you can have a ghost story about love, a spy novel about redemption, and so on.

As you can see, the theme doesn’t have to be earth shattering. A simple universal truth or belief usually suffices. It’s best if you believe it yourself and wish more people did. When you make it very simple, it can sound trite, but that’s okay. It’s still a powerful statement. Find your own twist on it to make it stand out. Maybe “love conquers all, but that means somebody has to lose,” and then write the story from the point of view of the guy who tries but fails to win his lady only to see her fall for a stereotypical romantic lead. Or maybe, “love starts as a fantasy but only stays if it’s real,” and then this guy finally wins the lady by offering a substantial, non-fairy tale relationship.

By the way, bestselling novels tend to have more than one subject. A primary one and one or more strong subordinate subjects. For example, Cormac McCarthy’s bestselling novel THE ROAD has two subjects, the apocalypse and the struggle to survive coupled with and paternal love and desire to protect one’s child, including their innocence.

How writers can use theme

Now let’s look at how you can use theme.

Whether you plot your stories or write them by the seat of your pants, identifying theme can be valuable. Either way, though, it’s best if you don’t look for theme after you write it. It often works best if one doesn’t graft it on after they’ve finished.

Also, it’s usually beneficial not to be too conscious about it. Try not to build it. Realize it as early as possible when writing your story, internalize it as a single sentence or question, and then let it express itself organically in the story using the basic tools. Trust your instincts and let what you’ve internalized guide your decisions without becoming them. Obviously, the theme should relate to the story’s character arcs and central conflict.

Theme is rarely spelled out. Trust your reader to “get it,” though they may have multiple interpretations. In some cases, you can be explicit about it if you want to. The first sentence might pose it as a question to hook the reader, for example. An Ally character might touch on it to encourage the protagonist to recognize their misbelief. Or the protagonist might realize it around the moment of final transformation.

Note if the theme is too heavy handed, though, it can upset people. They think you’re trying to make an argument rather than telling a story and letting them make up their own mind or discover its truth for themselves. So, it’s best to handle it subtly, though really, it depends on the kind of story you’re writing and what the theme is. For every writing rule, there are exceptions.

The  moral choice

One way to express theme is by giving the protagonist a moral choice. In THE MALTESE FALCON, detective Sam Spade is given a clear choice of love and money versus honor and justice and chooses honor and justice, thereby thematically stating they are more important.

This is a pulpy story that has a flat character arc. Spade doesn’t change over the course of the story, he is morally solid throughout, and what changes it the world he affects, not him.

If THE MALTESE FALCON were to be rewritten with a positive character arc, Spade might face a smaller, lower-stakes version of the moral choice and make the wrong choice before or near the beginning of the story, learn or experience something that chances him, and then have him make a different moral choice at the end. All of it serves the same theme, only with different types of character arcs. Going further with that idea, he could have a negative character arc by starting as morally upright but then making the wrong moral choice for love and money, only to be betrayed by his love interest and then lose both. Again, it serves the theme, though with very different stories.

Opposing views

You can do the hero’s moral choice but expand on it through secondary characters, which offers variations on the theme. In the below hypothetical example, the protagonist thinks he must make a lot of money to be desirable. The people in his life show varying levels of wealth and happiness. Obviously, Joe should go out with Kathy and stop making money his top priority, but he should initially admire Bob and envy Pete before making his final choice.

Pacing of theme

In John Truby’s excellent ANATOMY OF STORY, he talks about how theme should gradually grow in the reader’s mind as the story converges to its conclusion.

ALLEGORY

Just to be complete here, it’s hard to talk about theme without touching on allegory, which is defined: “The expression by means of symbolic fictional figures and actions of truths or generalizations about human existence.”

Basically, an allegory is a story that uses theme on steroids.

In an allegory, characters and events are symbols with a deeper or larger meaning. The idea drives the story and stands for itself and something else. The most popular types of allegories are satire, fables, and parables.

For example, ANIMAL FARM is a story about farm animals that stage a revolution and kick out the farmer so they can run the farm themselves. Only a new ruling caste, the pigs, take over, resulting in the farm becoming just as if not more brutal than what they had before. The humans represent the capitalists, the animals the Russian people, the pigs the Stalinists, and the revolution the Russian revolution.

On to Part 2, Symbolism

And that’s theme! In Part 2 of “Thoughts on Theme, Symbolism, and Figurative Language,” we’re going to zero in on symbolism.

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