The Green Book: Character Not Plot

The Green Book is an example of the pitfalls of creating fiction based on fact but also of character study films. This category primarily explores the main character’s personality.

Other character study films are Remains of the Day and even Little Women. If you remember (I may be speaking to only half the audience), Little Women focuses on how Jo realizes her dream to be a writer, Amy to be fashionable, etc. There isn’t one big climax to which all the other component parts contribute.

Similarly, the Green Book is a study of character and, although lots of things happen, there really isn’t a plot.

The movie does so have a plot

I can hear the protest, “The movie does so have a plot—I mean, they meet in New York, and drive through the South…” Yes, yes. But those are events and even lots of events don’t necessarily add up to a plot. It is particularly tough to see in this movie since the character development is so well written (and acted) that you don’t even notice the lack of a story.

How can you tell the difference between character and plot driven stories?

Usually by the elevator speech about the story. Someone asks what the Green Book is about. Which are you more likely to say: “It’s about two men who find the humanity in each other despite their differences in race”; or “It’s about two men getting into trouble in the Deep South during the 1960s.”? Both are correct but I think the first in more accurate because it gets at the real intent—character.

Why does it matter?

Well, it doesn’t for the reader since both types can be very satisfying. But it does for the writer.

At some point, you need to understand whether you are writing character or plot. Is it about the growth of your main character’s humanity? Or does the story have a climax moment which resolves the issues presented in the novel?

The annoying bit is that you often want to do both—develop your characters into real people and put them in situations which they resolve. And frankly, it is a better piece if you can.

Both character and story

So why the fuss?

The problem arises when writers just keep writing interesting, entertaining, or even touching events which don’t really lead anywhere. Just stringing a set of scenes together, no matter how true or life-like, will not necessarily make a story.

In fact, novels or memoirs written this way often dissatisfy the reader without her knowing why. She might say something like, “Yeah, it was okay—lots happened to him.” But won’t say “Wow, I really understand how his life shaped who he became,” OR “Wow, it was fascinating to see how he overcame such a difficult challenge.”

What about your writing?

You don’t need to start a writing project knowing which direction you want. In fact, might impede your creativity if you do. Instead, consider this after the first draft when you’re looking to create a final product.

Do you have a classic story arc with interesting characters who change? Or is the essence the growth of the main character, illustrated by events in his life? Which you decide will help focus what needs to be added, cut, expanded or shortened in your second draft.

I know this is a tough one so I will do another post (later) on a movie where this events- without-story is more evident.

February 3, 2023January 29, 2023

The Green Book: Inspired By

The Green Book won the Best Picture Academy Award for 2019 for a story ‘inspired by’ true events. It was controversial with some challenging its depiction of American racism. That aside, the movie can provide an interesting writing lesson.

What does ‘ inspired by’ mean?

Movies seem to make three distinctions:

A true story is a pretty close to real life events, sometimes using transcripts or historical records.

Based on a true story allows artistic license to perhaps combine real life people into one character or alter the flow of events to increase the drama.

Inspired by a true story is a kind of all-bets-are-off movie. The real events can be a springboard for the writer to weave in scenes and characters which may not have existed. This is the category closest to, but perhaps not actually, fiction.

All this is fine as long as the viewer knows what he’s getting. But for the writer, the ‘inspired by’ category can cause problems, perhaps illustrated by The Green Book.

How does this apply to the Green Book?

On his 1960s tour of the Deep South, a black pianist is forced to stay in black-only accommodation, generally depicted as down-at-the-heel places. His white chauffeur is not confined to these choices.

The exception occurs when the pianist, his chauffeur and two of the chauffeur’s (white) buddies all stay at the same hotel. Now, I can imagine that white people might have stayed at black-only hotels during this era. However, given that segregation of accommodation is an important premise, I think that the movie makers made a mistake by not explaining away this seeming anomaly.

But I also wonder (just wonder) whether the ‘inspired by’ allowed the writer to get carried away.

A speculation

The incongruity just discussed could have been caused by information edited out in the final cut or because it was assumed that everyone knew white people stayed at black inns but not vice-versa. I grant what I am about to propose is pure speculation but bear with me.

Generally speaking, interest is heightened when the protagonist faces a challenge. After the pianist and the chauffeur have started to understand and even like each other, the chauffeur’s buddies offer him a job. To set this up dramatically, the pianist needs to overhear the other men discussing the offer and agreeing to meet later to finalize the details. It is only with this knowledge that he knows he’s in danger. So, the writer needs a setting where all four characters are present and a hotel is chosen, even given the jarring aspect.

Because the setting is at variance with the major premise of the movie and is not explained, it made me wonder whether the meeting actually took place or whether this was just the writer heightening things with some conflict. I.E. did he make it up?

Staying true to the spirit

A lesson can be derived for writers. Creative use of the material is of course important. This is true even in a memoir. However, in doing so, you need to stay connected to your setting, characters, and historical period. I understand the need to build a good story and applaud the effort. But you’ve gotta stick with the essence of the characters and settings you’ve created.

Depicting characters doing or saying things not consistent with who they are doesn’t make a better story. It might be better dramatically but it won’t ring true to the reader.

The Green Book is interesting in other ways. Next post.

December 2, 2022December 2, 2022

Breaking the Rules

The previous post had examples of where the author broke what seem to be cardinal rules of writing and not only got away with it, but produced a stunning novel.

Great, I can do what I want

This type of break-the-mold book can make some writers think, “I can write whatever I want because these celebrated authors did.” Given this mindset, the writer might be resistant to feedback which tries to steer him to more tried and true methods. He might even see it as trying to dampen or change his unique voice.

Uh-huh. Well, okay, there’s always the possibility you’re writing an iconoclastic novel which will confound your critics when published to great acclaim. I always leave that possibility open. And I do buy that if you don’t believe in your novel, nobody else will. So, you may be right. But on the other hand, you might not be. So, why not read the rest of this before you toss the idea?

Walking then running

These writers didn’t skip from novice to iconoclast in one leap. Cormac McCarthy has been publishing novels for over 35 years. Similarly, Hamid, the author of The Reluctant Fundamentalist, has both a long history of writing for prestigious journals but also had already published a much acclaimed novel, Moth Smoke, before Fundamentalist.

These authors undoubtedly spent many long years honing their craft so that they could use the traditional methods with ease and mastery. It is only after they reached that high level of competence that they understood when a particular technique didn’t serve the needs of the story, and launched into something which amazed their readers with its audacity.

How do you square the rules circle?

So, what if your writing teacher or writer friends are telling you one thing and you think you’re following a different star? Well, as I’ve elaborated in other posts, slow down the automatic reaction to reject the feedback and try to find anything that might be useful in it.

Say the feedback is that your descriptions are too long even if beautifully written. This sticks in your craw. They admit the passages are stunning and still want them cut down. What’s with that? Have they no literary sensibility?

So, here’s where you need to slow down. Ask yourself questions like:

Is there anything useful in the feedback?
Too long for what reason? What is it preventing the reader from doing?
Is it possible that the delightful description is slowing the action?

You might huff that your readers should invest the time required to allow you to fully paint the atmosphere in which the action is taking. Fair enough. You may be right.

Experiment

However, how horrible would it be if you experimented with moving more quickly to action?

I’m not suggesting you do so and then lay the new piece before your critics as you confess the error of your ways. But just when it’s you and the computer, could you give it a try and then decide its value? Does it help the narrative? Does it serve the story better to rein in the description? If the answer is on balance, yes, then factor this into your future writing. If on balance, no, then you’ve seriously considered the feedback and decided to ignore it which is okay.

November 26, 2022November 26, 2022

The Reluctant Fundamentalist and All the Pretty Horses

The Reluctant Fundamentalist and All the Pretty Horses

The really annoying thing about writing is that for every sacrosanct rule that we’re supposed to live by, there’s some writer who comes up with a narrative which breaks it and damn if it doesn’t work. Like Cormac McCathy’s All the Pretty Horses and Mohsin Hamid’s The Reluctant Fundamentalist.

The Reluctant Fundamentalist

Take the novel, The Reluctant Fundamentalist by Mohsin Hamid. Reading the first few pages, I thought, “This can’t be a first person monolog for the entire novel. That’s ridiculous. It’s never going to work.” It was and it did!

The author breaks the monolog, in fact although not in form, by having the protagonist ‘repeat’ the words of the American he is speaking to before responding. Similarly, there are long flashbacks which take the more standard form.

But still, a full novel monolog. It shouldn’t work, it does, and is even necessary for the nature of the ending (read it—it’s worth it).

All the Pretty Horses

Similarly, Cormac McCarthy, the author of, in particular, All the Pretty Horses. It won the National Book Award in 1992 so I thought I would give it a go.

I hated it at the beginning. Hated, hated, hated it. For one thing, McCarthy had dialogue like (this is my imitation of him):

“Is Ruth coming?”

“Nah, she’s busy.”

“Won’t be no fun without her.”

Who’s Ruth? Who’s talking?

Also, he had long passages in Spanish (without translation) which moved the action forward. And his sentences were often (again my imitation): He hit him with a shovel until he intervened. Aaahh! These are all male cowboys. Give me a hint!

I was pissed but decided to read exactly half-way before giving up to figure out why he was so praised.

Around page 75, I fell in love. The descriptions of the West spoke to me as if I had been born to it. With characters who don’t talk much and whose internal life is almost never revealed. With only their actions to show, McCarthy created a compelling story with basically one authorial hand tied behind his back!

Yes, he still did unattributed dialogue, untranslated Spanish, and confusing pronouns. But it didn’t matter. I loved, loved, loved it.

So some authors can break from the traditional way and make it work. Sometimes, wonderfully.

Accordingly, can you break the rules, too? Next post.

September 9, 2022September 9, 2022

More on One True Thing

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More on One True Thing

In the last post, I discussed Meryl Streep’s approach to acting, which she summarizes as ‘one true thing.’ If she can find one important aspect of the character she is playing that is true for her as well, she can use that one true thing to guide her choices when portraying the character. I think this has application for writers, although it’s not an easy road.

Struggling with one true thing

I suppose that if I were a better person, I would identify one true thing for every major character I write. But in truth, I only use it when I’m having trouble with one.

In my semi-autobiographical novel, Kimono Spring [add hyperlink], I struggled for the longest time with the mother character. It was hard not to overlay how I felt about her, what I knew about her in years beyond where the novel was set, and generally get out of the way of allowing her to be who she was going to be on the page.

I wrote and rewrote the mother’s scenes but she always seemed distant or mechanical or whatever. Wrong in any case. I wanted the reader to understand even if they couldn’t condone the character’s actions. I didn’t feel as if I was getting anywhere.

Then I sat myself down and seriously did the one true thing. An image came to me of a woman drowning. It clicked. When a person is drowning, they grab onto anything or anyone, even if they drag the person in with them. A woman drowning is too desperate to notice or care whom she is hurting. I had almost actually drowned when I was quite young. I could use that experience to inform how the character must feel and write from that. So, while technical skill is also required, I was still able to use the image to create a character which was closer to what I wanted for her.

Trying one true thing

We all occasionally have characters who are distant, elusive, or just feel wrong. Try using one true thing.

What is true about this character that is also true about you? There could of course be any number of things but here I think you are looking for the essence of the character, what makes him pivotal to your narrative.

Is it that he fears people will find out that he isn’t the good person they think he is?

When have you presented yourself under false pretenses?
Why did you do it?
How did that make you feel?
What were you thinking?

Let the emotion of your experience infuse your character so that he acts from that truth which you understand.

Similarly, you want the character to be a free spirit but everything about her is sodden and leaden.

Think about a time when you felt you could do whatever you wanted (whether true or not).
How did you feel?
Where did the joy come from?

Find the part of you that is also a free spirit and write from that place.

So, one true thing. Isn’t the only way to tackle a character, of course, but I’ve found it useful. And who knows, if we use it, we may become Meryl.

One untrue thing.