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Dancing Word Writing Workshop
with Patti Lacy
November 15, 2007
Hosted by: Jason McDonald
Dancing Word Associate Editor
Jason McDonald: Let's get started. I'll open in prayer, then
go over protocol. Thank you Lord for this workshop this evening. Thank you for
this time together. bless our guests, and bless all those who can't come this
evening. In Jesus’ name, amen.
Protocol reminder: type ? for questions, ! for comments, ga for
"go ahead" when you're finished, and wait to be called upon in turn.
Author Patti Lacy has graciously offered to teach us about
capturing emotion in our writing. Patti, thanks for coming. For those who
haven't met you yet, could you give us a bit of your background?
Patti Lacy: It’s great to be with ya’ll this evening! Thanks so much for visiting
Dancing Word this evening.
I’m Patti Lacy, a former college Humanities instructor who
ventured into the world of Christian fiction in 2005. My first novel, An
Irishwoman’s Tale, will be published in June 2008 by Kregel Publications.
I’m wrapping up work on my second novel, Unsettled Waters, and have a
third book in the planning stages.
Besides writing, I’m passionate about Ministry& More, an
organization that provides food, and through prayer, Bible study, and personal
testimony, offers the true Bread of Life to our clients. I also serve as the
ACFW Midwest Zone director.
Now that you know a bit about me, I'd like to chat about
emotion. Emotion in your writing, that is.
Hopefully all of you saw the image,
taken from the film “Three Seasons” which Anne posted on the website. If you
didn’t, visit http://www.dancingword.net/home.htm and view it now. This image
expresses visually what I hope to show you this evening: how to use setting to
connect your reader emotionally with your character and your story. I'll give
you just a second to minimize and then check out the image!
Over five years ago, I viewed “Three Seasons” a film which
played to mixed reviews. While I’ve forgotten much of the plot, this image
remains affixed in my mind’s eye.
The protagonist of “Three Seasons” a former prostitute
wearing a white ao dai, finally realizes her own self-worth as she literally is
bathed in beautiful red phượng vĩ (Royal Poinciana) blossoms. This image
speaks of redemption, forgiveness, new birth.
Why? Why does it work when other scenes fail to grab at your
gut? Because it connects readers emotionally by painting a beautiful picture
combining setting AND the emotions of your character
The juxtaposition of reds and whites suggest a cleansing of
sorts. The joy of the woman combined with the joy of nature at its climactic
blossoming draws us into the plot. We long to know what’s making this woman so
happy. We long to understand the meaning behind so much beauty.
You can create the same longing in your readers by following
a couple of basic rules as your craft each scene of your story.
I. IMMEDIATELY (within the first few lines of a scene)
ground us in the scene. Let us experience the environment of the character.
II. Choose settings so alive, so magnificent, that they
become a primary character within the book. A trash dump An airplane hangar. A
hobby room filled with fascinating relics of started but not finished projects.
Croagh Patrick, the mountain where St. Patrick of Ireland fasted for 40 days
and 40 nights. The Cliffs of Mohr (the last two scenes were used in my first
novel).
I know you have some stunning settings swirling about in
your mind. Try to visualize one now! Capture in your mind’s eye what you are
looking for. For instance, if you want to set a scene in an alley cluttered
with overflowing dumpsters, visualize what you want out of the scene. Why do
you want to place the character there? What thoughts will he or she have? How
will the protagonist’s feelings complement or contrast with the mood created by
scene? In many cases, what you’re really doing—James Bell would be proud of
this—is creating a form of conflict between the protagonist and the
environment. And as you all know, readers LOVE conflict!
B. Now that you see it, research the setting. What type of
material are dumpsters made out of? Do rats infest the site? Bugs? Is the alley
gravel? Dirt?
Returning to the film trailer, a bit more exotic setting—the
mystical Vietnam of “Three Seasons”—learn about this Royal Poinciana tree, so
breathtaking, an entire scene was constructed around it!
C. Okay. You’ve
visualized the setting. Determined why you need the protagonist to be there.
Now visit the setting yourself, if possible. Tear yourself away from Google and
actually go there!
For our Vietnam setting, that might be impossible. Public
libraries frequently have excellent National Geographic films and other
educational type media for those out-of-the-way, out-of-the-budget settings.
The alleyway is a bit more doable. Get in your car and drive
there. Better yet, walk. Look at the rotting food spilling down the sides of
the dumpster, the smear of gold (egg yolk?) Inhale the stench and try to
identify particular sources of the smells. Take notes. Take pictures. If you
don’t have a camera, you can use your cell phone.
Ain’t modern technology great? And if you’re really up on
the latest (yes, to me digital cameras are a new thing) you can snap away in
digital bliss, not worrying about the cost of film!
IV. Now write that scene, coloring your words with vivid
descriptors. Work on your metaphors. Let even drab settings become alive in
their drabness.
Okay. I've given you four basic steps to create a setting
readers want to be involved with. Any questions?
Anne McDonald: How much description of the setting is just enough?
Patti Lacy: Annie, I think "modern" readers feel less is better. I
wonder how Willa Cather and Dickens would manage today. I've heard one
instructor say a paragraph or two for a long-term setting, a snippet or two for
temporary spots. Hey, keep your reader involved with this emotion I'm about to
show you, and it won't matter.
Now let's look at an example, from my second novel. Let’s
look at a descriptor of a boring Midwestern town as seen through the eyes of
Sally, a displaced Southern Humanities instructor.
Sally pulled into the lot, parked her car, and started for
the administration building, a gray concrete monolith, windowless on the long
walls. As an afterthought, it seemed, someone had planted twiggy saplings and
anemic burning bushes around the perimeter of the building. The pitiful things
bent in bare-branched surrender to the west wind, the biggest weapon in
winter’s ample arsenal.
Okay. It’s apparent that a storm’s moving in. It’s apparent
that the campus is dull, boring, rather depressing, like the Midwestern
weather.
V. Hopefully my Midwestern setting has grabbed the readers’
attention. However, our reader feels no real connection with Sally, no real
understanding of what’s going on in her head. So how do we grab our reader and
reel them in?
As the author, I determine the emotions I’d like the reader
to feel for my protagonist and link her feelings to the weather, to the sight
of the building. I’m placing Sally in the setting and now having her interact
with it. Dear old Sally longs to be in post-Katrina New Orleans. She’s
depressed. A bit put off with her husband (shown in an earlier scene.) Let’s
use the atmospheric issues, the drab campus, to heighten Sally’s mood. Here’s
the same paragraph, with “emotions” added in:
At first Sally sang along to the Southern rock pouring from
her radio, but by the time she’d pulled into the nearly empty parking lot at
Midwest Community College, her exuberance had faded. And who could blame her?
When she’d left home, the sun had been playing peek-a-boo
from its perch behind the City of Normal water tower. Now charcoal-streaked
clouds, amassing liquid weaponry, engulfed the blue sky.
Sally grimaced. It was the start of a war—a Midwestern
winter. A war requiring her to summon every character trait she’d inherited
from Cherokee, English, and Cajun ancestors, who’d certainly had their share of
troubles in this land.
She’d done it plenty of times already—four years in Indiana,
now two years here in Illinois. Like Daddy used to say, You can do it—you have
no choice. We Flowers not only survive, we thrive
The administration building, a gray concrete monolith,
windowless on the long walls, did nothing to dispel the feeling that Sally was
in a war zone. As an afterthought, it seemed, someone had planted twiggy
saplings and anemic burning bushes around the perimeter of the building. The
pitiful things bent in bare-branched surrender to the west wind, the biggest
weapon in winter’s ample arsenal. It
was a war, all right, and Sally was in the middle of it, whether she wanted to
be or not.
Here’s another example, from my second novel. Sally, my
protagonist, is approaching Katrina-ravaged New Orleans. The sentence
highlighted in bold font places Sally smack dab in the middle of all the
Katrina havoc. Just a little tweak, really, but it draws in the readers and
makes them want to read on.
The first thing Sally noticed, now that they drew near to
the Crescent City, was the trees. Some had snapped in half like used
matchsticks. Some, their tops gone, had blackened like a raging forest fire had
swept through the canopy of pines and live and scrub oaks, incinerating their
leaves. Bleak as Sally’s Soul, now that she grasped the enormity of what
she’d done.
But evidence of Katrina’s manhandling didn’t stop with the
coastal flora. The Big One had mocked those attempting to escape, sucking up
cars and trucks and motorcycles into a boiling salty cauldron of sea and river
water and human excrement and toxic chemicals and then dumping them in great
piles about the ditches, ramps, and medians of the freeway, to corrode and
deteriorate into a powdery mess. Would it do the same to Sally as she tried to
escape the consequences of her past?
Let’s discuss the elements in this paragraph. To create this
scene, and others, including a ravaged hospital building, I studied news
coverage of Katrina on the web and television. I visited New Orleans seven
months post-Katrina and was able to observe first-hand some of the damage. I
also interviewed several individuals who remained in the Crescent City during
the hurricane’s reign of terror . Then I tied the most destru PLEASE FILL THIS
IN.
Patti Lacy: All right. Let's have a comment or two. Get it? Are you lost in
all the details?
Cammie: Right here with you, enjoying the word
pictures.
Patti Lacy: Good job, Cammie. You must like Willa Cather.
Cammie: You got that right. I think she might opt for self-publishing, though. More room for descriptions.
Patti Lacy: Here’s
a couple of examples from my critique partners, the Cannot Stoppers and Pearl
Girls! They gave permission for me to rip them tonight, on line, from coast to
coast, no less! Brave folks!
Anne McDonald: lol
Patti Lacy: Eli
leaned against a brick pillar in front of the house, his arms crossed. Cold out
tonight. No stars, even. After a few minutes, Eli headed inside.
Great description, but it doesn’t get the reader into Eli’s
head.
He leaned against a brick pillar in front of the house, his
arms crossed. Cold out tonight. No stars, even. Void of any hint of light. Like
his life, now that he was back on crack cocaine.
Anne McDonald: (wow)
Patti Lacy: We
learn in the added sentence that the protagonist is on drugs. No wonder the
nightscape looks so bleak. We hurt for him now, yearn for the writer to find a
way to help this boy.
Here's another one. This protagonist is a psychotic killer.
Yes, I have some interesting critique partners.
Jason McDonald: (should I be worried?)
Patti Lacy: Watching from his position among the mourners, he adjusted the
dark sunglasses shielding his eyes from view. It had turned out to be an
oppressively sunny day, not a single cloud in the sky. A slight breeze mingled
with the smell of roses and caressed the onlookers, giving them a slight
reprieve from the rising temperature. White chairs lined up in rows on the
lawn, like graves in a war cemetery, sun glinting off the hard plastic.
Anne McDonald: (the protagonist is a killer? hmmm)
KC: (definitely more my cup of tea)
Patti Lacy: I love this scene! Compelled by his
sickness to visit the graveyard service of his latest victim, a psychotic
killer scans the crowd. To connect us more closely with this dead-cold, crazed
heart, add the bold lines below:
Watching from his position among the mourners, he adjusted
the dark sunglasses shielding his eyes from view. Not that he needed them. It
had turned out to be a cloudy day, which was fine with him. He hated the
sun, radiating warmth and light over God’s creation.
A slight breeze mingled with the smell of roses and caressed
the onlookers, giving them a slight reprieve from the rising temperature. White
chairs lined up in rows on the lawn, like graves in a war cemetery, sun
glinting off the hard plastic. Yet none
of it touched him. He couldn’t let it.
By adding these reactions to the environment, we get a
glimpse of the killer's angst and shiver a bit more
Here’s another example:
Mary, a twelve-year-old girl, ripped from her homeland and
placed in a foster home, dreads change. When her new mother doesn’t pick her up
from school, instead sending one of their employees to do the chore, Mary
imagines a worst-case scenario. Notice how the change of nature can be
integrated with Mary’s own fear of change by adding the bold line.
When Mary saw Mother’s car in the drive, her heart
lightened. The car’s broken down, that’s
all. Or Mother has an appointment. She thanked Frank for the ride home,
then stepped into the ripe apple fragrance of a fall day. Leaves were buffeted
like little parachutes by the wind, floating up down, up down, until they
streaked the lawn with red and yellow and brown.
KC: (I see passive writing--I know--another chat,
lol)
Patti Lacy: I’ll
add two sentences to connect Mary’s emotions to the landscape and make the
description count for more than just some pretty words.
Nature’s fall message reminded Mary change could be good.
But could change ever be good, where mother was concerned?
All right. Here's a time to field any questions before I
turn to two samples sent in for perusal tonight.
Anne McDonald: So, a writer's best bet is to sprinkle the setting in with the
emotions of the character. What are some warnings for newbie writers doing
this?
Patti Lacy: Just like in acting, try not to "overemote" or
"overwrite." Perhaps try to stick to one main emotion or feeling.
It's a good way to introduce a new scene but doesn't need to be constantly
employed.
Honeybee: I can tell the "bold" sentences
make the paragraphs of setting description more personal. This seems like a
good thing--so the paragraphs don't just lie there like patches of dry earth.
But you also called them character "reactions" to the setting. Which
reminds me of Dwight Swain and Jack Bickham's stimulus-response units, in which
case the character reactions might go in a separate paragraph.. Which do you
feel has the most advantageous impact on the reader? Keeping the character
reactions with the setting description, thus more personal—or keeping the pace
skating along with separate paragraphs? Thanks!
Patti Lacy: I prefer to intertwine them when possible so that the reader isn't
aware of the way you're "tweaking" emotions. Camy Tang pointed out
this integration technique to me as she edited my second novel. Perhaps it
would depend on which genre you're writing for. I write contemporary women's
fiction, which explores emotions, setting, maybe has a bit more literary
elements than, say suspense (unless you're talking Athol Dickson). Great
question, Honeybee! Wowsers.
Anne McDonald: One of the hardest emotions for writers to capture is embarrassment.
Instead of saying the heroine blushed, or heat rose to her cheeks, what are
some other ways to show this emotion?
Patti Lacy: When I think embarrassment, I think withdrawal. Curling oneself
into a tiny ball. Mentally checking out, perhaps have the
protagonist daydream to escape.
Spitfire: If you want to put in an emotion of a
non-POV character in a scene, how can that be done without it being passive
voice?
Patti Lacy: I rely on expression, the spatial relationship between the POV
character and the other characters’ tones, body motions.
Jason McDonald: How does one put in an emotional reaction of
a character if the author does not relate to that reaction, and how should they
go about writing it?
Patti Lacy: I'd suggest studying films which cover that emotion. Hang out at a
coffeehouse until you see someone evoking that emotion. Research books by
Googling that emotion with Amazon.com and see what you come up with. Be careful that you don't get a latte thrown in your face.
It'll come up in a minute, but calling experts is a
wonderful way to find this stuff out
In my second novel, I had to learn what a young girl
experiences when sexually assaulted. I spoke to therapists, a police sergeant,
several case workers, and an adult who'd gone through the trauma. Even though I
was not familiar with the emotions, I vicariously began to experience things
after gathering all the interviews and comparing notes.
Patti Lacy: Okay. Here's a snippet from Lee in Australia:
Opening the package at one end, Gideon tipped the contents
into his hand. Bile rose in his throat as he recognized his wife's locket,
ripped from her throat the night she was murdered. He turned it over in his
fingers, fumbling with the clasp. Inside he found a photo folded up and wedged
inside. Ice trickled down his spine as he unfolded the picture. A baby's
wrinkled face stared up at him. The world tilted crazily as he read the note on
the back. "Don't forget me, Daddy."
Wow! Great scene. Great emotion! But where are we? Perhaps
Lee placed the character at the grave, in the protagonist's bedroom, at an
earlier scene. Still, let every paragraph resonate with the setting. I believe
it was Orson Welles who said you should be able to look at ANY scene within a
film or book and know (1) setting (2) the character's reaction to the setting.
Gideon stared at his wife's grave one more time, then,
opening the package at one end, tipped the contents into his hand. A necklace.
Bile rose in his throat and he nearly fell into a long line of funeral wreaths,
so carefully arranged on their metal tripods. It was Sarah's locket, the one
that had been ripped from her throat the night she was murdered.
He turned it over in his fingers, fumbling with the clasp.
Inside he found a photo folded up and wedged tight. Ice trickled down his spine
as he unfolded the picture. A baby's wrinkled face stared up at him. The
backdrop of Celtic cross, stone angels, and chiseled graves blurred into a
hodgepodge of stone and stillness and death as he read the note on the back.
"Don't forget me, Daddy."
I cheated a bit. From earlier reading, I knew the setting
was the grave site of Gideon's wife. What did I do to enhance emotion in this
scene? First I called a funeral home and chatted with the receptionist about
possible descriptors. She helped me tweak them a bit. Lee could really go wild
and contrast the cold steel tripod base with a warm memory of the dead wife.
While I'm here, I'd like to go off on a tangent, like all
instructors. My community college students used to love it when I did this—less
notes to copy!
Anne McDonald: (lol)
Patti Lacy: I love writer's loops. Critique groups. However, these tools
aren't good substitutes for old-fashioned research. Instead of asking others
about funeral protocol, ring up the funeral home yourself.
Anne McDonald: (I love old-fashioned research)
Patti Lacy: In today's call, I managed to wind my questions into a discussion
of Christian fiction, perhaps sold a book or two. Plus I have a new name in my
metaphorical Rolodex as an expert contact for issues surrounding death and
funerals. To follow my own steps, which you've memorized, I'd divert my daily
jog to the West Normal cemetery and get a first-hand look. Here's another
paragraph, this one from Karri:
* Annie nudges Karr
i
KC: (EEP)
Patti Lacy: Looking out onto Wilmington's intra-coastal waterway from her
kitchen window, Rena imagined curling into a ball on her side of the bed
tonight, hoping he would not make her love him when he wouldn't even speak a
kind word to her. Not when nothing ever changed afterwards. Not when he would
do the same thing next week because the dinner was overcooked or she had spent
too much money on shoes or she had been over at her sister's too long.
Okay. A quick trip to Google informed me that there's a
Wilmington, Delaware, and a Wilmington, North Carolina. When I visited the
tourist guide for Wilmington, NC, I learned....This charming port city is
located in the southeastern corner of NC between the Cape Fear River and the
Atlantic Ocean. So we're in North Carolina. Since I'm Southern, this made me
happy!! Okay. Back to the paragraph.
Anne McDonald: (heh)
Patti Lacy: Immediately the location stirred conflict in me--Cape Fear
River/Atlantic Ocean. What fun! Rena set the still-sizzling pan in the sink and
stared out the window. When she craned her neck, she could just see the
intra-coastal waterway. Cape Fear River waters mingling with the briny waters
of the Atlantic. Despite a shimmery blue surface, tension ran deep in those
storied waters right off the coast. But no deeper than the tension in this very
house.
Water poured over the pan, yet Rena continued to stare
outside, her mind on this evening. She imagined curling into a ball on her side
of the bed, doing her best to avoid him. Would he make her love him even though
tings were so strained, they barely exchanged pleasantries? When the pan cooled
to her touch, Rena grabbed a scrubber and attacked the caked-on stains. It
didn't matter what he did. She wouldn't take his half-hearted apology. Not when
nothing ever changed afterwards. Not when he would do the same thing next week
because the dinner was overcooked or she'd spent too much money on shoes or
she'd been over at her sister's too long.
KC: Nice. Thanks, Patti. Just a note: this is from a
short story, so would I use less description in order to move it along?
Patti Lacy: In this scene, I tried to use two images--the co-mingling waters
viewed form the window (built-in tension between salt and fresh water) and the
washing of dishes to show the tension/anger in the character. I will say that
this scene might be even more powerful if shown in "real time." By
that I mean have the couple arguing in the kitchen. Then Rena stalks to the
sink. Let the imagery, and the conflict, roll!
Patti Lacy: Whew. Any questions, folks?
Anne McDonald: (I'm good)
Spitfire: How do you write emotions in active voice
(not using was and were and such)?
Patti Lacy: You can use verbs to describe the character's reactions to the
environment, have them make bodily gestures. Unlike some writers, I feel back
story, passive voice, and a few other elements have a place in our literature.
In my writing, I do try to use active voice when the character meets the
environment, and usually do.
Jason McDonald: Any other questions? If not, then it is time
for the drawing...
* Spitfire rolls out the barrel for the drawing
Jason McDonald: AppleAnnie, will you do the honors?
Anne McDonald: sure
thing
*Annie selects a name
Anne McDonald: Tonight's winner is.....Laura ! You have won Smokey Robinson's CD,
“Second That Emotion.”
SassyStyle: Congratulations, Laura!
lostdragon: WOO HOO
Jason McDonald: yay!
Spitfire: congrats!
Laura: Oooh Wow!
jumping up and down screaming
Patti Lacy: It’s been a blast sharing this “Second That Emotion” seminar with
all of you. I’d like to thank Camy Tang for pointing me toward this concept of
intertwining setting and the character’s emotion. And I’d like to thank Anne for the invitation and her
encouragement. This was my first on-line teaching venture!
SassyStyle:
Great workshop, Patti - thanks :)
Patti Lacy: YW, SassyStyle
lostdragon: You did a great job, Patti
Patti Lacy: Thanks, lost dragon
Anne McDonald: Thanks so much, Patti. We've enjoyed the workshop.
Jason McDonald: Thanks Patti! I had a great time.
Patti Lacy: Thank y'all. Good night, and God bless
Honeybee: Thanks, Anne, for having the workshop.
Enjoyed it! Goodnight, all.
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