Top 3 Mistakes in Crafting a Compelling Opening

 This Week's Topic: Beginnings--What are my principles for crafting them?

Regular readers of this blog know that the beginning of the book is the hardest part for me for many reasons that can be summarized best as "still getting acquainted with my characters and my world."  I've been making the same mistakes long enough that I know when I'm doing them, and I know that I have to go back and fix them once I get through the first arc. Committing the transgressions is just part of my process now. I confess these sins in hopes that you, dear reader, don't develop similar bad habits.

Top 3 Mistakes in Crafting a Compelling Opening:

1. TMI -- Info dumps are deadly to opening chapters. Be they about the history of the world or the backstory of a character, big chunks of Telling prevent the reader from smoothly transitioning into the world and the story. 
• Alas, as a writer I need to write the TMI so I know what shapes the Goals, Motivations, Conflicts, and Weaknesses (GMCW) of the characters. Yes, that includes the characters of Setting and Magic System. No, this doesn't mean that TMI survives through first-round edits.
• What is the minimum the reader must know to understand the scene? -- This is the question I ask myself once I complete the first arc and am ready to exorcise the info dumps from the beginning. 
• There's a lot that gets cut in the first edit and is either never mentioned again or is distilled down to one or two sentences. That which gets cut gets pasted into my "extras" file to be used as reference points throughout drafting. On the rare occasion that I cut too much and my CP or editor tells me they need more info {manic cackle}, I've got the answers ready to go.
2. Vague Notion of What The Protagonist Wants -- Sure, I know the gist of the book before I start writing the beginning (I'm a skeletal plotter), but that doesn't mean I can concisely state what my protagonist (initially) wants, how they (initially) plan to achieve it, what the obstacle to success is, and what the consequence of failure is. To ensure reader buy-in to the adventure, I must clearly and simply convey the stakes, and I must do it within the first chapter. 
• I save myself from endless agonies when I craft a simple statement of Goals, Actions, and Obstacles. I revise this statement often throughout the book as a touchstone of progress and a plot reminder to the reader. 
• For any writer who tends to indulge in tangents, adding this progress-revised statement at the end of each notable sequence will keep you focused on your plot. 
• The simple, concise statement of stakes can and should be used in crafting a query/short synopsis as well as marketing promos. It is, for all intents and purposes, the Hook.
3. Being Too Coy -- Once upon a time, DongWon Song, a very talented agent of fantasy novels (and more) posted the most helpful and yet obvious piece of advice (which I will paraphrase because I can't find the link to their original post): Writers often confuse withholding information as creating mystery in their story; when, in fact, they're annoying the reader. We all want to compose a story with a bit of thrill, a bit of intrigue, and a lot of anticipation for what will happen next. We want to craft a page-turner (not a wallbanger). When we fail, it's often due to not understanding our own plot development and pacing. The first book I published proves this point to a (painful) T. 
1. Part of improving as a writer is honing when and how to reveal key information and misdirects. Much of that is knowing when and how to pose the questions, which is a facet of story structure and plot development. 
2. Beginnings and sagging middles are usually where we fall victim to our wannabe-tricksy-ness. Because I know I have this weakness, I developed the habit of building a bare-bones outline before I begin writing. When penning the beginning, if I find myself getting too close to revealing a Big Suprise that shouldn't happen until much later, I compare my outline to my WiP to find where I asked the wrong question or laid a faulty foundation. Getting ahead of myself happens, that's why an outline is helpful.
3. Another aspect of Being Too Coy is when we make a reveal but it's unnecessarily complex. There's a huge chasm between being compelling and confounding. If in doubt, KISS or JUST SAY IT, DAMN IT.

There you have 'em, dear readers, my Top 3 Mistakes in Crafting a Compelling Opening. May you avoid 'em.

Using the MICE Tool to Find Where the Story Begins

This week at the SFF Seven, we're asking each other which MICE quotient we usually start with in a story. I can see that the calendar queen, KAK, is anticipating my bitching about not knowing what these things are, because she helpfully provided a definition and some useful links. 

It turns out that the MICE quotient is a tool originated by Orson Scott Card (brilliant storyteller, awful human being) for categorizing story elements. MICE stands for Milieu, Idea, Character, and Event. The Writing Excuses Podcast explores the MICE technique frequently, so I was able to listen to a couple of episodes to learn about it. Here's a list of the episodes where they mention it. This episode is particularly useful, from back in 2011, as Mary Robinette Kowal explains how MICE works. The podcasters also amusingly mull that "milieu" is really setting, but that SICE isn't nearly as good of an acronym. This episode is also useful for the discussion of the MICE approach to conflict.

To summarize this approach to writing - part of my job as the one who kicks off the topic for the week - I'm borrowing heavily from the Writing Excuses episodes I cited. 

Basically these four elements can be emphasized or de-emphasized in telling a story. Short stories tend to focus on one of these elements, while longer works use several. Novels typically have all four, often in a nested approach. The tool essentially dictates how a story begins and ends. 

So, for Milieu, a story begins with the protagonists exiting or entering a space, and ends with them returning to the space. For example, The Hobbit begins with leaving The Shire and ends with returning to it. 

For Idea, or Inquiry, the story begins with a question, like in a murder murder mystery, where the question is posed of why a person is dead and who killed them. It ends with the answer.

With Character, the story begins with a protagonist who is unhappy or unfulfilled, and ends with them fulfilled--or resigned to being unfulfilled. Romance and Lit Fiction are two genres that use this tool a lot.

Finally, a story that uses Event begins with something happening that changes the status quo, and ends with either re-establishing the old normal or establishing a new normal. These kinds of stories focus on action and often disaster.

As I mentioned earlier, a novel will also use these tools in a nested fashion, which I find very interesting. Mary Robinette used the example of html code (also applicable to algebraic formulas), where you essentially close brackets in the same order that you open them.

Html coding looks like this: 

<p><b><i> “Dark Wizard is one of my top reads ever.” </i> ~ NY Times Bestselling Author Darynda Jones</b> </p>

The p opens the paragraph and /p ends it. Same with b for bolding, and i for italics, giving you this formatted result:

“Dark Wizard is one of my top reads ever.” ~ NY Times Bestselling Author Darynda Jones

So, in a novel, where you use all four elements, you'd back out the same way you entered. It might look like this:

<Character><Milieu><Inquiry><Event></Event></Inquiry></Milieu></Character>

To finally answer the question of what I start with? I'm an intuitive writer, so I don't plan these things, but it's interesting to note that I pretty much always start with character, followed closely by Milieu. The above pattern is how my book DARK WIZARD goes. The pattern also repeats within smaller sections and scenes throughout the book, but this is true of the overall pattern. Basically Character frames the overall arc, as does Milieu - then there's a lot of moving from Inquiries and Events - sometimes with smaller Milieu changes.

So, the story opens as such:

Gabriel Phel crested the last ridge of the notorious Knifeblade Mountains that guarded Elal lands on nearly three sides, and faced the final barrier. The path through the mountains had been narrow, crooked, with blind endings and unexpected pitfalls.

Not unlike his life, Gabriel thought with grimly sardonic humor. 

My wizard opens the story, moving into a new Milieu - physically and metaphorically. It's also worth noting here that Milieu also refers to the larger setting of being in an alternate fantasy world, which was something I wanted to be sure to telegraph from the beginning. Gabriel has a plan to change his life, but he soon encounters many questions when he meets the heroine, Nic. It's amusing to me how I introduce her in Chapter 2.

Skirts swirling about her ankles, Lady Veronica Elal paced restlessly to the heavy velvet curtains that covered the barred windows of her round tower room, and slipped behind them. Shivering in the chill trapped there, she hooked her fingers into the slats of the shutters anyway, ignoring the cold bite of the metal. It was a ridiculous habit she’d developed over the last months of seclusion, as if she could make the spaces between the rigid slats wider, so she could glimpse just a bit more of the outside world.

Character, then Milieu. Funny, huh?

I enjoyed learning about this tool and will give it thought for future books. I can see how it would be useful for deciding where to begin a story - and for structuring a satisfying ending. 

"How big is your... to-be-read list?" she innuendoed.

"So, how big is it?"

It's not like I'm blushing or anything, but did you really ask that question? I mean, this is personal. But here we are, and you did ask. I struggle to answer.

"I mean, it's sizable."

You raise eyebrows.

"Biggish, then. Biggish and not showing any signs of shrinking." To my shame. "It just grows, and I can't seem to stop it."

Okay, you can giggle here, note that warning about calling a doctor if these things go on longer than four hours, and float off in a puff of innuendo. Go ahead. 

Except no, you're still here. Waiting.

Fine.

My to-be-read list is how big? SO big that ...

... clocking in at 702 ebooks on my Kindle queue alone, if those were holdable, sniffable books I had to store, I would no longer have a kitchen. Possibly would not have a house and would be relegated to a she-shack in the back yard. (With a reading nook, naturally.)

... even with all those titles offloaded to digital, the paperback stacks collapsed the shelves in my closet. (Poor closet.)

... I no longer remember which were loaners, which were freebies, and which I bought. So, if you loaned me a "you have to read this book!" book, forgive me. (And remind me of the title. I'm sure I'm getting to it!)

And the worst, most difficult confession of all:

... if I've read about ten pages and am not completely and absolutely invested in a book, I'm probably not going to finish it. That's the sad truth. It's probably going right back into the "maybe later" aka TBR pile.

I guess this is why folks say a book's opening page has to be gripping. There are just too many options out there now for entertainment. Such is the embarrassment of riches for a reader these days.

Of course, then I wonder what my own opening pages look like, and finally -- finally! are you happy now? -- I blush scarlet. 

Because I get the punchline to this very unfunny joke: My next book best start off with a dead body in a car chase, because I'm not alone in having more books than eyeball time. Snagging a reader's attention and holding it is the only way any book is going to move from TBR to keeper shelf.