Writing exposes us and makes us vulnerable. Our knee-jerk response is oftentimes to pull back and stuff the impulse. But when we see start to see how doing much in life makes us vulnerable, and when we see others doing vulnerable things, it can provide a gateway to allow us to, as Susan Jeffers wrote about way, way back in the 80s, feel the fear and do it anyway.
It takes a certain mindset—this word, “Svergonata.”
Fear kept me from starting this channel in earnest for way too long. I hope that after you watch, you’ll join me in doing things that make you vulnerable, like writing your novel. And that you’ll embrace the svergonata mindset.
Putting ourselves out there, sharing our stories, isn’t always easy. But I’m convinced that stories can heal the world, so let’s embrace the svergonata mindset and do it together. (There’s safety in numbers.)
I believe in energetic reciprocity. When you subscribe to my email list and/or my YouTube channel, we’re doing something more than simply exchanging currencies—your email address for my content.
We’re collectively growing a community of mindful, evolving people who embrace the reality that stories can heal the world.
You’ve likely read or heard me go on and on about how your people (your characters and/or your Ideal Reader) come first when preparing to write a book. As I’ve posited many times over, once we know our people DEEPLY, the plot starts to reveal itself.
But what about story? How does it figure into the process of getting our people from the beginning to end of their adventures? And what is story, anyway?
Kurt Vonnegut clarified traditional, recurring story forms to help us comprehend the concept of story by visualizing them in shapes.
Here’s how I think of it.
First, plot is the container within which your characters and their stories live and breathe. I think of it as the body that holds all the parts—the locations your people occupy, the scenes they live out, and the exposition that reflects their experiences in their adventures, conversations, and conflicts.
Story, on the other hand, is the heart of it all. Story pumps the blood within and throughout and gives life to your people’s thrills and tribulations—the plot. Or, the path your people will follow throughout the story.
Story is what makes your readers care and keep turning the page.
This likely sounds vague and intangible. And it is, in a way. It’s what we, as writers, feel within us when we conceive of a protagonist and care enough to put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard. Likewise, it’s what makes our readers stay engaged throughout and, in the end, feel they’ve had an experience that goes beyond simply reading words on a page.
So how do we create story?
Just like a body is made up of many parts, so is story. And just as with all the many parts of the body that keep it running smoothly, we can think of the many parts of story in the same way.
Without understanding these important and essential features, it can be difficult—if not impossible—to begin and keep moving forward.
Opening scene This scene puts your reader right in the story world by showing her who your protagonist is, what her status quo life looks like (before the inciting incident), and what she might need or want to change. That thing she desires.
Inciting incident This scene happens in a ways (I always tell my clients to use three chapters or 45 pages as a guide… this can always change as the writing and story evolve). It’s the event or situation that happens and is out of the protagonist’s control. It’s what sets her off on a new trajectory that serves as a path for the story’s unfolding.
Sensorial experiences Using vivid descriptions—including setting and place—that create a lucid, true-to-life sensorial experience for your reader is essential. When you help her see, smell, taste, touch, and hear, as well as sense, the details of your story world, you infuse her real-life world with wonder, which makes her want to keep invest in your protagonist and your book.
So, what then, after these elements of the story have been determined and written?
We keep checking back in on what we discovered about our protagonist’s deepest desire, wound, and fear. And we write scenes that build on and connect with each other, that suture the protagonist into the reader’s heart, that offer a means to understand this particular human’s—your protagonist’s— inner world.
