No Wasted Space

Sometimes I read a novel by an author who is a MASTER at plot.  That’s what happened when I read Seraphina by Rachel Hartman.  In a PublishersWeekly article Rachel says that initially “several agents told her the equivalent of ‘You write beautifully.  If you ever figure out what a plot is, call me.’  Then she “rewrote the novel three times, with a new plot each time.”  I would sacrifice half my library to get a peek at those plot outlines!  So many writers struggle to master plot, myself included, that I desperately want to see the evolution of what she learned over those three new drafts!  But alas, right?  So I did what I always do:

I plotted out what Hartman did myself.  I took a look at her chapters in terms of Vogler’s hero’s journey because it seemed very appropriate to the heroine, Seraphina.  Pieces of the puzzle and where they were placed started making sense to me.  I even tried articulating what I saw as the main conflict.  I knew after I read Seraphina, there is no wasted plot time.  But plotting it out myself have me a much better feel for HOW Hartman did it.  (Ms. Hartman, half my library is still on the table if you ever want to show me your own plot outlines!)

Attraction in Seraphina

Secrets by mintychocolatelover

Great fan art!

According to a PublishersWeekly article, author of the Morris Award-winning debut, Seraphina, Rachel Hartman admits she’s a slow writer.  Hartman says, “It’s a feature, not a defect.”  And thank goodness for that feature.  One of the delicious results is the intense attraction between protagonist, Seraphina, and Prince Lucian.  The attraction was, and a year later still is, so palpable, I took a close look at Chapter Two where Lucian makes his appearance on the bridge, Chapter Seven a formal court scene, and Chapter Eleven a second intimate conversation scene, to see how Hartman achieved the magnetism between the two.  The result: seven ways Hartman developed the pull between these two.

RECOGNITION

First, Seraphina and Lucian seem to recognize each other immediately.  In Seraphina’s first glimpse of Lucian, she recognizes the emotions on his face, “sorrow replaced by a spectacular annoyance.”  She is able to discern what is a mask of calm on him, while with ease he answers her unasked question.

REPUTATION

Hartman also intersperses bits of Lucian’s reputation.  He is a shrewd and dogged investigator who works all the time.  He is not as outgoing or as handsome as his late uncle, which somehow makes us like the bastard prince very much.  Though he has no beard, to Seraphina’s dismay, “the intelligence of his gaze more than made up for that.”  Having a secret to hide, she also sees Lucian is “too sharp for her comfort”.  For his part, though Lucian has only seen Seraphina across the court, he knows her name, and he has concluded she must be “astonishing”.

OTHERS’ REACTIONS

Seraphina is acutely aware of other’s reactions to Lucian.  She observes they part like waves for him, and she sees his soldiers respond swiftly to his signals.  These observations create feelings of attraction in the reader because we are looking through Seraphina’s eyes, because she notices so much about Lucian, and because we admire the respect Lucian commands.

HER REACTIONS TO HIM

When Lucian approaches on the bridge, Seraphina’s first instinct is to tug Orma’s sleeve and say, “Let’s go.”  Somehow her desire to flee makes us keenly aware of the pull she feels in the opposite direction.  This hunch is fulfilled when, toward the end of Chapter Two, Seraphina permits herself, “one small pang for the inevitability of his disdain”.  Like a perfectly set gemstone, this one permission reveals the strength of her true feelings.

WHAT SHE NOTICES ABOUT HIM PHYSICALLY

Seraphina notices choice details about Lucian.  She notices his unconscious tics like the rapid tapping of his left boot during at uncomfortable conversation at court or the way he rubs a hand down his face while trying to deescalate a situation on the bridge.  She also notices the poeticism of the man’s grander gestures from a distance: “The last rays of the setting sun turned his mourning clothes almost golden.  He commandeered a horse from one of his sergeants, leaped up with balletic grace, and directed the corps back into formation.”  Sigh.

HIS SENSE OF INTIMACY

Lucian assumes a great deal of intimacy with Seraphina.  He leans in to talk to her.  He compliments her.  He creates the sense of a close, private, and special conversation with her.  In small comments like, “Here we go,” though he exhibits frustration his “we” signals his sense they are in this together.  He flashes Seraphina a “grateful glance” when she interjects a blessing on his mother into his argument with Eskar.  After the argument as Seraphina troubleshoots her headache, Lucian speaks to her, “his voice so close and sudden” that she startled.

HIS COMPLEXITY

Perhaps most alluring of all to the intelligent Seraphina and her readers, Lucian is always presented with a mix of emotions.  He is shocked and stricken.  He displays spectacular annoyance but draws his brows in concern.  He expresses both pity and disgust.  His snapping is followed up with a more gentle tone.  He wears a calm mask, but also we see his clenched teeth, his windblown hair, and his mad ferocity peer out.  He even smiles grimly.

What is perhaps most amazing is not that Hartman coaxes out all this attraction, but that she weaves it all intricately throughout an action packed chapter with other, larger purposes.  As a reader, even a year later, I still swoon when I think of the attraction between Seraphina and Lucian.  Considering only three scenes, one in which they’ve just met, one formal occasion which does not allow them much contact, and a second more intimate conversation, I am tangled up in them.  Overall, their intimacy seems to come from their recognition of each other despite the societal roles, and secrets, that must keep them apart.  So their attraction is bound in tension.  The contrast between the two conversation scenes and the more public court scene only serves to heighten that tension.  So, thank you, Rachel Hartman!  May your sequel revisions unfold un-rushed.  May you allow yourself all the time you need to work these beautiful subtleties into the seams of your story!

Tension after the Climax or The Denouement: What I Learned

I’d gotten all the way through the fifth revision of my manuscript, and a horrible feeling was dogging me through my days.  My ending felt like inevitable falling water instead of a chase to follow the characters around the final corner and see where they’d been headed all this time.  Some of the best endings I’d been reading were gripping right to the last page, to the last line.  I am racing to the end, wondering what will happen, or how it will happen, or what it will mean?  So I studied my recent favorite endings –five of them, on the hunch that the denouement is a lot more than tying up lose ends.  Before I could tighten the tension in the denouement to the perfect pitch, I had to understand why, beyond my grade school teachers’ explanation (“To let us down”), we even needed a denouement.  Here’s what I discovered just from looking at one good ending after another.

The denouement is widely known as the falling action between the story’s climax and ending.  You want your denouement to be more than falling water, gravity inevitable, simply tying up loose ends.  You want tension.  You want it to read like the final pages of Eleanor and Park.

The part of the story we call the denouement is actually a delay between the protagonist’s climactic action and the fictional world’s response to this action.  The tension comes from waiting to see what the world’s reaction will be.  Yes, in her climactic action, Seraphina revealed herself, but now will Kiggs accept her?

The protagonist has already made his climactic choice and taken his climactic action, but the reader doesn’t know if the protagonist’s climactic action will make any difference.  Maybe it doesn’t matter because he’s learned the lesson he needed to learn.  But it would be nice if THIS TIME it worked out for him.  Let’s call this The Payoff.  Like, it’d be nice if Lee would forgive Deanna, right?

A good ending is both inevitable AND surprising.  Part of the surprise is that The Payoff, is the last result you would expect given the character’s past history.  Love is the last thing you expect to hear about from sex-crazed Ryan Dean West.  The likelihood that Lia will heal from her eating disorder without relapsing is next to nill.  But in each case, this is exactly what happens.

Oh, that’s how that works!  Thank you Rainbow, Andrew, Rachel, Laurie, and Sara.

             Then I analyzed all the ways I saw my hero-authors ratcheting up the tension in the denouement.

• In the protagonist’s climactic action, if there is SACRIFICE, we are propelled through the denouement to see if the world’s reaction will mean the sacrifice is truly lost or possibly redeemed.  Park has given Eleanor up to save her.  Is that it?  Please no, say no!  He can’t loose her!

• Show the reader all the reasons why the world’s reaction is unlikely to work out as a positive pay off.  Lia has been in rehab before and failed miserably.  As she takes each small step back to life, we are literally holding our breath in case she falls.

• Show the reader both characters wanting the same thing, but don’t let the characters know this about each other.  This creates an insane dissonance the reader wants to resolve.  We see both Eleanor and Park pining for each other but giving up…no, no, no, don’t do that, guys!

• Bring the protagonist to the brink of giving up on any pay off.  Park has stopped checking the mail.  He takes another girl to prom.

• See how long you can delay showing the reader that the protagonist gets her deserved payoff…the last paragraph? the last sentence?  Go look and see.  Rainbow doesn’t let us off the hook until the last sentence.

• As we see the protagonist hit with the reaction to his climactic action, look for a possible opportunity for extreme change in his personality or demeanor.  In the drop-kick that is Andrew Smith’s Part Four of Winger, Ryan Dean West tells us…yeah, there have been unpredictable bumps in the road that forced him to grow up, but –BAM! –now we’re going to get the big one.  And when he faces, well, what he faces, we see the charismatic big talker go suddenly, profoundly silent.

• Tension can also manifest because, even though the protagonist has revealed essential truths in the climax, she has still held back some piece of truth or some action she must take.  Yes, Seraphina’s truth –she is a dragon –is out, but not the part about her loving Kiggs, not until the last scene.

• The world’s reaction to the protagonist’s climactic action is positive, but may have to be on the down low for now.  Kiggs returns Seraphina’s love!  Hooray!  But now, considering recent losses and an entry into war, is no time to break this to Glisselda.

• There will be uncertainty ahead even after the book’s ending.  Deanna has written Lee a note asking to meet on the front lawn the first day of school.  When Deanna arrives, it is not perfect, Lee doesn’t have some kind of moment with Deanna, but she is there.  Kiggs and Seraphina love each other, though we cannot imagine how that will work out. Lia cannot make long-term promises; she can only recreate her life in small steps. 

Ryan Dean West understands meaning comes from love, if he can forgive himself for his own final insensitivity.  Eleanor and Park are back in touch, they love each other, but they are still separated by many miles.  

This tension, even on the last page is maybe why I still think about these characters months after reading about them.