Saturday, 17 November 2018

A Few Thoughts About Heist Stories



Heist stories are interesting to read and can also be interesting and challenging to write, but they do come with a set of thoughts you should clear up before writing the story (especially hard for a discovery writer like me and, perhaps, the reason why I haven’t started Inez’ and Tom’s second adventure so far). Yet, I do like me some heist stories and there’s not enough of them around, if you ask me. So, here’s some thoughts on that matter.

First of all, make your main lead sympathetic. A lot of stories can do with a less-than-likeable main lead, but the heist story can’t. The main reason for this is that heist stories will challenge the audience’s morals. A heist is always a crime (usually a con or a break-in). If you want the audience to root for your main character while they’re committing a crime, you need to make the character sympathetic (it also helps if the other side is unlikeable or outright evil). In addition to being likeable, the main lead also should have a good reason for their crime.
A good example of that is the manga/anime series “Cat’s Eye” (see their Wikipedia entry) which revolves around three sisters doing late-night heists to assemble their father’s missing collection and, hopefully, finding out where their father has disappeared to and why. The sisters are not doing their heists simply for the money and they are nice girls overall, so the audience can feel safe, rooting for them. Both the personalities and the cause are a safe bet for the audience.

Second, despite the ultimate ending of the story, there should be trouble on the way. Like with every type of story, conflict (see my post on that) is essential for it to function. Heist stories often include finding the right specialists to pull a specific heist off. The main lead, no matter how good they are at their work, can’t do it all alone. Heist stories are team stories, not something for a single person to do alone. Even Colonel Clay didn’t do it by himself, he usually had help from his wives (yup, plural). And wherever more than one person is doing the work, mishaps happen. People can’t keep the timing, for whatever reason. People do things in their own time, which is not the same as that of the rest of the team. Someone makes a mistake (after all, the characters usually are human). And because of that, the conflict rises and the stakes go up.

This goes well with another important point. The main lead of a heist story usually has a mastermind personality, otherwise how could they plot such a complex plan? And masterminds are in danger of coming across as ‘too cool’ in the story. They usually expect everything and have backup plans for their backup plans. This talent, however, is not good when it comes to conflict, because the latter might fall flat, if the character can deal with it easily. On the other hand, your mastermind needs to be competent, otherwise it will look unrealistic for them to finally pull off that complex heist.
One way to do that is to have the bad things happen only for the mastermind to treat them as if they’d expected them from the beginning. That, however, can play into the ‘too cool for you’ problem and should be used sparingly. Besides - if the mastermind can deal with everything, how is the final heist going to be interesting for the audience? If the mastermind will always win, there’s no way the heist can go wrong, is there? But if a plan went awry before, perhaps even doing severe damage to someone or something, there is tension. Sure, audiences expect the hero to win, but there’s several different definitions for ‘win’ and that doesn’t mean all members of a team have to come out on top.
Another way is to make the conflict one on a personal level. Perhaps the mastermind needs to enlist the help of a person whom they hate - or who hates them. Perhaps they need to perform several jobs for those whom they wish to hire and those jobs are not exactly in their usual line of work. There are ways to take a mastermind out of their comfort zone as well, they just need a little more imagination. And a mastermind failing at something which, say, demands a specific skill outside of the mastermind’s skill set doesn’t make the mastermind look incompetent. It simply makes it clear that the mastermind is not a Jack-of-all-Trades - which means there is a chance they will also do something wrong in the actual main heist.
Then there is the other side. To make things harder for the main lead in any kind of story, the other side must always be stronger and better off. So whoever the main lead and his team want to steal from, they need to be able to afford the best security, the best technology, and the most ruthless minions. In the best case, the story boils down to mastermind versus mastermind, to a mastermind personality on each side. It boils down to a strange, real-life version of chess that way.

In addition, you have to juggle a group of people and their dynamics, it’s not just about the one hero and the side characters which assist. The heist will only work if a group of people works together, so there are a lot of interpersonal dynamics going on as well. It’s not just the ‘romantic interest’ or the ‘jealous best friend’ or the ‘friendly rival.’ It’s a group of people all of whom have their own motivation to work on this heist - past history with either the main lead or the enemy, monetary reasons, challenges they can’t ignore, personal feelings, and much more. All of the characters will need to get something out of the heist, will have their personal arcs to follow, so you as the author are looking at a team effort in more than one way there. The team needs to come together, the leader needs to smooth over ruffled feathers and deal with internal quarrels, the team needs to learn how to work smoothly together, and to rely on each other. Of course, you can have several leads in any other kind of story, too, but the heist story will only work if you have several leads working together.

Those are very much my thoughts on heist stories. They’re fun to read and can be fun to write, if you do a minimum of plotting yourself before you write them (even as a discovery writer).
Heist stories are interesting to read and can also be interesting and challenging to write, but they do come with a set of thoughts you should clear up before writing the story (especially hard for a discovery writer like me and, perhaps, the reason why I haven’t started Inez’ and Tom’s second adventure so far). Yet, I do like me some heist stories and there’s not enough of them around, if you ask me. So, here’s some thoughts on that matter.

First of all, make your main lead sympathetic. A lot of stories can do with a less-than-likeable main lead, but the heist story can’t. The main reason for this is that heist stories will challenge the audience’s morals. A heist is always a crime (usually a con or a break-in). If you want the audience to root for your main character while they’re committing a crime, you need to make the character sympathetic (it also helps if the other side is unlikeable or outright evil). In addition to being likeable, the main lead also should have a good reason for their crime.
A good example of that is the manga/anime series “Cat’s Eye” (see their Wikipedia entry) which revolves around three sisters doing late-night heists to assemble their father’s missing collection and, hopefully, finding out where their father has disappeared to and why. The sisters are not doing their heists simply for the money and they are nice girls overall, so the audience can feel safe, rooting for them. Both the personalities and the cause are a safe bet for the audience.

Second, despite the ultimate ending of the story, there should be trouble on the way. Like with every type of story, conflict (see my post on that) is essential for it to function. Heist stories often include finding the right specialists to pull a specific heist off. The main lead, no matter how good they are at their work, can’t do it all alone. Heist stories are team stories, not something for a single person to do alone. Even Colonel Clay didn’t do it by himself, he usually had help from his wives (yup, plural). And wherever more than one person is doing the work, mishaps happen. People can’t keep the timing, for whatever reason. People do things in their own time, which is not the same as that of the rest of the team. Someone makes a mistake (after all, the characters usually are human). And because of that, the conflict rises and the stakes go up.

This goes well with another important point. The main lead of a heist story usually has a mastermind personality, otherwise how could they plot such a complex plan? And masterminds are in danger of coming across as ‘too cool’ in the story. They usually expect everything and have backup plans for their backup plans. This talent, however, is not good when it comes to conflict, because the latter might fall flat, if the character can deal with it easily. On the other hand, your mastermind needs to be competent, otherwise it will look unrealistic for them to finally pull off that complex heist.
One way to do that is to have the bad things happen only for the mastermind to treat them as if they’d expected them from the beginning. That, however, can play into the ‘too cool for you’ problem and should be used sparingly. Besides - if the mastermind can deal with everything, how is the final heist going to be interesting for the audience? If the mastermind will always win, there’s no way the heist can go wrong, is there? But if a plan went awry before, perhaps even doing severe damage to someone or something, there is tension. Sure, audiences expect the hero to win, but there’s several different definitions for ‘win’ and that doesn’t mean all members of a team have to come out on top.
Another way is to make the conflict one on a personal level. Perhaps the mastermind needs to enlist the help of a person whom they hate - or who hates them. Perhaps they need to perform several jobs for those whom they wish to hire and those jobs are not exactly in their usual line of work. There are ways to take a mastermind out of their comfort zone as well, they just need a little more imagination. And a mastermind failing at something which, say, demands a specific skill outside of the mastermind’s skill set doesn’t make the mastermind look incompetent. It simply makes it clear that the mastermind is not a Jack-of-all-Trades - which means there is a chance they will also do something wrong in the actual main heist.
Then there is the other side. To make things harder for the main lead in any kind of story, the other side must always be stronger and better off. So whoever the main lead and his team want to steal from, they need to be able to afford the best security, the best technology, and the most ruthless minions. In the best case, the story boils down to mastermind versus mastermind, to a mastermind personality on each side. It boils down to a strange, real-life version of chess that way.

In addition, you have to juggle a group of people and their dynamics, it’s not just about the one hero and the side characters which assist. The heist will only work if a group of people works together, so there are a lot of interpersonal dynamics going on as well. It’s not just the ‘romantic interest’ or the ‘jealous best friend’ or the ‘friendly rival.’ It’s a group of people all of whom have their own motivation to work on this heist - past history with either the main lead or the enemy, monetary reasons, challenges they can’t ignore, personal feelings, and much more. All of the characters will need to get something out of the heist, will have their personal arcs to follow, so you as the author are looking at a team effort in more than one way there. The team needs to come together, the leader needs to smooth over ruffled feathers and deal with internal quarrels, the team needs to learn how to work smoothly together, and to rely on each other. Of course, you can have several leads in any other kind of story, too, but the heist story will only work if you have several leads working together.

Those are very much my thoughts on heist stories. They’re fun to read and can be fun to write, if you do a minimum of plotting yourself before you write them (even as a discovery writer).

Saturday, 10 November 2018

The Women of Dracula


Recently, while reading an article which discussed what mistakes they hope the new BBC “Dracula” series will avoid (but probably won’t), I realized something about one of my favourite novels which I had never realized before, despite taking a class at college about vampires in literature which heavily featured Stoker’s book: the whole story hinges on the two female leads - Mina Harker (née Murray) and Lucy Westenra.

“Dracula,” for those of you who have only seen the movies and not read the book (it’s not an easy read, but I happen to like the epistolary style), starts off with Jonathan Harker on his way to Dracula’s castle and then switches focus to Mina, when Jonathan is about to be left to the three brides while Dracula makes for England. At that time, Mina is with her best friend Lucy and she is there when Lucy is first attacked by Dracula. She is already with Jonathan, though, when Lucy dies, turns into a vampire, and is killed by her fiancé and three other men. However, the group of fearless vampire hunters is only kept together through the two women in the story. You can define every one of them through their relationship to Lucy, even Mina and Jonathan. So let’s do that first.
Arthur Holmwood - Lucy’s fiancé
Quincey Morris - Lucy’s suitor
Dr. Jack Seward - Lucy’s suitor and doctor
Prof. Abraham van Helsing - Lucy’s doctor
Mina Harker - Lucy’s best friend
Jonathan Harker - the fiancé (later husband) of Lucy’s best friend
Admittedly, Jonathan is Mina’s proxy, but through her, he, too can be defined through Lucy. And Jonathan and Mina have no other connection to the other vampire hunters than Lucy. Without Mina knowing her, Jonathan and she would never join the group, the castle Dracula came from would never be found, the list of his houses in England never be laid open. The hunt on Dracula would be bound to fail, because none of the other hunters knows enough about Dracula’s background to trace him.

It’s also Mina’s inner strength and her strong mind (‘the mind of a man,’ which is meant as a compliment by van Helsing) which keeps the group focused after she has been attacked and infected. Without this move, it might have been possible for Dracula to escape with his un-life. Even though the other hunters were motivated, the motivation through truly-dead-and-buried Lucy wasn’t as strong as the motivation to save Mina from Lucy’s fate. So it is again a woman who drives this part of the story. And let’s not forget that it is Mina who kills Dracula with the bowie knife in the end - Dracula doesn’t fall through a man’s hand, he could recover from the injuries he sustained from the men, he falls through the hand of his intended next bride.

Lucy, on the other hand, gets a lot of bad reputation from those who interpret “Dracula” these days. She’s often shown as slutty or manipulative, but the diary entries of hers we see in the novel are far from that. She’s a naive, young woman who is thrilled for obvious reasons to find she has three suitors. It’s also quite clear that she is in favour of Arthur from the beginning - and he is the most logical choice for a young woman in those times. It is her sweet character which makes the three men who have fallen for her not fight over her hand, but accept her choice graciously and come together to help her (each of them donates blood and each of them is in it for her final death). She is so loveable that the two she doesn’t choose do not wish her ill because of this. This doesn’t make her a bad person at all. In addition, Lucy never chooses her fate - she becomes a vampire in her sleep: bitten when sleepwalking, sucked dry when unconscious. Not only does she have no choice, she isn’t even conscious while it happens. Lucy’s fate is a great example of the concept of ‘outer evil’ - people having a bad fate not for lack of morals or past sins, but simply because they are in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Mina herself is often praised as a modern woman, while Lucy is seen as a traditional one for marrying the one most socially acceptable - a thought which ignores the difference in social standing between orphaned, lower-middle-class Mina and upper-middle-class Lucy. It shouldn’t be forgotten that Mina is engaged before Lucy, to a man who is from the same social class as her (solicitor/clerk Jonathan and deputy-headmistress Mina make a good pairing). Yes, Mina works, but she has little choice, given her background. In reality, both Lucy and Mina can be construed as being ‘modern’ or ‘traditional.’ It depends on the focus you put on them and on your definition of a modern woman. Mina as a working woman who also uses modern technology (typewriter, shorthand) can be construed as a modern woman who can take care of herself and doesn’t marry to be provided for. Lucy as a woman who mourns that society forces her to choose one of the three men who want to marry her (thus hurting two) can also be construed as a modern woman who doesn’t strive for traditional marriage (unlike Mina).
“Dracula” as a such is a book which thrives on ‘modern’ versus ‘traditional.’ Dracula is the old evil which comes from an old-fashioned country (the first part of the book, Jonathan’s trip, goes to great lengths to show how quaint and old-fashioned the area Dracula lives in is). The vampire hunters use modern means (phonographs, modern transport, telegrams etc.) to fight him and put an end to his old, dangerous ways. Dracula tells Jonathan about his own bloodline during a conversation. The only vampire hunter with a long bloodline is nobleman Arthur Holmwood. Jonathan and Mina both are orphans, van Helsing is a widower whose only son died before him, Quincey Morris is from a country without long history (the States), and Jack Seward is married very much to his work. None of the vampire hunters defines themselves by their blood, unlike the vampire (which is, of course, fitting).

But back to the women. Apart from Mina and Lucy, the only women who play a greater role in the novel are Dracula’s three brides who are introduced as overly and openly sexual through Jonathan Harker. They are ‘anti’-women compared to Mina and Lucy (before her change). They are openly sexual and they gleefully feast on the baby Dracula brings them (which goes against the ‘natural instinct’ of a woman to protect children). Yet, we know nothing of those women - not even their names. We don’t know where they’ve come from, how long they’ve been Dracula’s brides, how they’ve become vampires. They only exist to show Jonathan what he got himself into and what his host really is. And they turn up to greet Mina as their future sister, then they get killed by van Helsing. ‘What if?’ one could wonder. What if Mina became one of them? What if we knew more about them? What if we could see their interactions with each other?

It’s strange how I could read “Dracula” almost annually for years without realizing what central roles Mina and Lucy play in the narrative. Now that I’ve realized it, I can’t get it out of my mind again.

Saturday, 3 November 2018

Release of "The Loki Files Vol. 2" will be postponed

There are some situations in real life when you just can't work things out the way you want. I will be very busy this month, so I don't have the time for editing and releasing "The Loki Files Vol. 2" as planned. With a little luck, I might get some writing in, but it doesn't look too good at the moment.

Until further notice, my schedule will be shifted by one release, meaning "The Loki Files Vol. 2" will be released in February, "One for Sorrow" will follow in May, and "Grave Diggers" in August. I might have another "John Stanton" volume out by then and, perhaps, even my first "Swenson & Carter."

Keeping Viewpoints Relevant

There are stories in which a singular viewpoint will not suffice. In such stories, you will need multiple viewpoints to handle everything. And to do so well, there’s a few things you will need to keep in mind.

First of all, refrain from mind-hopping. If you start a scene with one character’s point of view, it’s a very good idea to finish it in the same character’s mind and not leave that mind in the meantime. Mind-hopping irritates and confuses the readers, because they can’t be completely sure which character’s viewpoint they’re currently seeing. There’s no need to keep to the same mind for the whole chapter, if there’s a reason to change it, but hopping back and forth madly is not the way to do multiple viewpoints. Announce changes in viewpoint clearly. If you switch between two scenes, you can use the scene-break symbols, if you use them, to indicate who the new viewpoint character is. Or you can just start the new scene by clearly announcing the identity of the character the readers will follow in that scene.
In addition, try to keep the characters you use for viewpoint characters to a minimum for your story. Many stories can be told very well in just one or two viewpoints, few need a host of ten or twenty. Ask yourself if it is necessary for the readers to see things from a specific character’s point of view. If all characters are going their separate ways and the reader needs to learn what each of them does, you will have to employ them all as viewpoint characters, but ask yourself if the reader truly needs to know what all of them do while they’re on their own.
Be especially weary of making your villain a viewpoint character. Villains thrive on being mysterious, on nobody, including the main lead and the reader, understanding completely what they do and why. If you’re making your villain a viewpoint character, readers will eventually learn their plans and motives and that can be bad for the story. If you have to introduce your villain through a viewpoint character, rather do so through one of his henches or associates. Or introduce them indirectly, through someone telling a viewpoint character about them.

One way to get around such first-, second-, or third-person viewpoint problems could be to choose the omnipresent narrator instead, but this one comes with its own set of problems. Since the omnipresent narrator usually also is all-knowing, there is no surprise for the viewpoint ‘character’ itself. The narrator knew it all from the very beginning. For some stories, where things happen on a global scale and have to be told that way, the omnipresent narrator is the only way to go. But a lot of stories happen on a much smaller scale. They happen to people, not to organisations or nations or whole planets. In that case, choosing one or more viewpoint characters to tell the story (usually in third-person perspective, because otherwise the changes get confusing) is the better way.
In such cases, the suggestions from above do still apply. Don’t use too many viewpoints and don’t do mind-hopping. Avoid the villain’s viewpoint, if you can.

There is, however, another problem with plotting out a story with multiple viewpoint characters. It’s to make sure not to tell two or more unrelated stories. It doesn’t necessarily start off like this. You have three viewpoint characters. Each of them works on the same problem, but they don’t know each other, they don’t know that they’re actually working towards the same goal. And you tell all of their stories, you tell how Character A works on the purely mechanical side, how Character B tries to solve the problem by talking to the right people, how Character C combines mechanics and electronics for a more efficient solution. But then, something veers off course. Character B stumbles over something else while talking to people. Some old secret which is dear to their heart. Something they’ve been looking for since they were much younger. They follow that trail. And step by step, they’re leaving the actual problem, the main plot, behind for a secondary one. This can still work, if the secondary plot at some point ties into the main plot. If that old secret has something to do with the problem Character B worked on in the first place. But what if not?
That is when you have to face something no writer truly wants to do: rewrites. You have to abandon that secondary plot, erase it from the pages, rewrite Character B’s story so it’s not included. You can keep it in mind for another story about Character B, but you need to remove it from this one. Because this isn’t just Character B’s story. If it were, the trip down memory lane to that old secret could still work, serve as a distraction until something reminds Character B of the true problem to solve. But while Character B is chasing that old secret, Character A and Character C are still working on the main plot and, suddenly, their unknown teammate has left them alone with it. Character B’s story is no longer relevant, because the real story still revolves around the main plot.
It confuses readers to have one character move away from the main plot, especially if it’s obvious they’re doing so. Still, readers will probably believe that there’s a reason to it, that this distraction will lead the character back to the main plot eventually. If it doesn’t, readers get irritated. That is why you should, if possible, avoid this pitfall.

Each character you use for a viewpoint should have their own thread of the main plot to hold. It doesn’t have to be clear from the beginning, especially in a long story, but over time, the threads must begin to merge, so the reader can begin to pierce it all together. If, while you’re writing or editing, you start to realize that you have more viewpoint characters than are necessary or useful for the story, the only thing you can do is to cut their threads and remove them from the weave of the story. It hurts, but it’s necessary.