Category Archives: narrative writing

How F. Scott Fitzgerald introduces characters in Gatsby

Whether you are writing a short story or a long novel, you need to introduce characters into your narrative.  One mistake many of my students make is to rely on “is” and “are” to describe characters.  “Her hair is blonde and her eyes are blue.”  “He was about five feet, three inches tall, and his hair was white.”

Scott Fitzgerald had the same need to describe characters as he introduced them in The Great Gatsby. Below are Fitzgerald’s words introducing some of his most important characters.  Notice how few times he uses the verb “to be” and how much he describes personalities rather than physical appearances.

Daisy “made an attempt to rise—she leaned slightly forward with a conscientious expression—then she laughed, an absurd, charming little laugh, and I laughed too.”  Do we know what Daisy looks like?  No.  The first thing we know is that she laughs and makes others happy.  Maybe that’s why Gatsby has loved her all these years?  Immediately we like her.

Tom Buchanan in riding clothes was standing with his legs apart on the front porch. . . .he was a sturdy, straw haired man of thirty with a rather hard mouth and a supercilious manner.  Two shining, arrogant eyes had established dominance over his face.”  We know from his posture that Tom is a man’s man–nothing feminine about him–and from his mouth that he has a tough, unforgiving nature, and from his manner that he is arrogant.  Right away we fear Tom, and rightly so.  Nothing is lighthearted about him.

Myrtle Wilson “a thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the office door. . . .but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously.”  Myrtle’s stout figure surprises us since by the time she is introduced we know she is Tom’s mistress.  That last word, “sensuously,” tells us all we need to know about Tom’s and Myrtle’s relationship.  From this initial description we pity Myrtle for attaching herself to a fearsome man like Tom.

“’I’m Gatsby,’ he said suddenly. . . .’I thought you knew, old sport.  I’m afraid I’m not a very good host.’  He smiled understandingly—much more than understandingly.  It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it.”  Gatsby introduces himself to the narrator, Nick, with an apology, but he immediately smiles—and what a smile!  No mention of Gatsby’s age or physique or party clothes.  Rather, we appreciate Gatsby’s charm as shown by his words and smile.  We like Gatsby.

To introduce these characters, Fitzgerald focuses on a characteristic of personality which is vital to our relating to that character.  Laughter, a hard edge, sexiness, and a smile.  Two of the four characters have no physical description at all.

Can you duplicate Fitzgerald’s technique?  Read over this paragraph about a dog, and then rewrite it.  Describe the dog’s appearance but also give the dog an attitude.

The original:

The door opens and out comes a dog.  It’s a fat black pug on short legs.  He has bulging black eyes, a pressed-in face, and a wrinkled neck.

Here is one rewrite:

The crate door opens and out rushes a chubby black pug on puny legs.  His bulging black eyes dart from left to right above his snorting mouth.  He marches as if on a mission—no sauntering for him—bee-lining to his water bowl where he lowers his heavy head on its velvety, wrinkled neck.

And here’s another:

The car door slides to reveal a black pug sniffing the air and studying the distance to the ground.  He waits on truncated legs too short to jump.  His master encircles the pug’s velvety neck with one hand, lifts his weighty belly with the other, and lowers him to the grass.  The pug sniffs, scuffs in a circle three times, and pees.  He paws at the grass to cover his business and struts.  His master snaps on his leash and walks ahead, calling the pug to follow.  But the mighty pug recognizes the vet’s doorway, digs in his hind legs, and balks.  No staying in a kennel for me, mister.

How to start a narrative

How to start a good story today is much like how to start a good essay, though it’s different too.  Many good stories today begin without any background information.  They begin in the middle of the action and weave in whatever background information is necessary later.  For example,

“Duck, you fool.  They’ll see us.”  This beginning starts in the middle of action.  Better yet, it starts with dialog.  Do you want to know who the speaker and his companion are?  Do you want to know why they are hiding?  Do you want to know who is hunting them?  Will you continue reading?

The three-year-old waited under the dirty laundry in the closet just as Mom and he had practiced.  The noise had stopped, but he didn’t trust the silence either.  “Wait for me,” Mom had said.  So he waited.  Is this a game of hide and seek?  Or has something sinister happened to Mom?  Why did Mom have the child practice hiding?  Why did she tell him to wait for her?  Will you keep reading?

Compare those beginnings with this kind.

It was early morning when she boarded the school bus.  She took her assigned seat and looked around.  Yes, it was Monday, all right.  Everyone was sleeping or trying to.  This beginning lacks the energy of the previous two beginnings.  Do you want to know why she boarded the school bus?  Probably not because you already know.  She’s going to school.   Do you want to know why everyone is sleeping?  Probably not because it’s Monday and that’s the way it is on Mondays.  Will you keep reading?

Mrs. Miller put on her hat and spring coat and waited for the taxi.  It came on time.  She nodded to the driver.  “Twelve Maiden Lane.” She sat back, alone in the passenger section, and thought what she always thought, that this is the way Queen Elizabeth was pampered wherever she went.  Do we know why Mrs. Miller is taking a taxi?  Do we care?  How about her thought, comparing herself to Queen Elizabeth?  That’s a little more interesting.  Why does she think that?  Will you keep reading?

Should you start a narrative with a question?  Lots of students do, but such a beginning rarely draws in readers, especially if the reader knows the answer.  But sometimes it can work.

Oh, please, doctor, please tell me what it is?  Is it pneumonia?  Meningitis?  Is my baby going to be okay?  Why are you just standing there, doctor?  Please tell me.  This opening has several questions, each one more emotionally charged than the previous one.  It works because the thoughts are a form of action.  Why is the child sick?  Why is the parent so frantic?  Why is the doctor mute?  We don’t know what happened before.  We arrive in the crisis moment.  Will you keep reading?

In the past, writers began stories with exposition, that is, with background information.  Today that approach is out of style.  We want to jump right into the action.

If you tend to start narratives by giving background information, try this to start with action.  Move along until you find the inciting moment—the moment when the action begins.  Delete everything that comes before the inciting moment.  If it is necessary information, weave it in through dialog or thoughts—but not flashbacks.  Flashbacks interrupt the forward flow of your story.  Your narratives will be more dramatic and better read.

 

Two typical writing problems for middle schoolers and how a tutor overcomes them

Problem 1:  A seventh grader is writing a narrative about the first day of the new semester.  She starts her story by recounting how her alarm rang.  Then, lying in bed, she worries about two new teachers she would meet that day.  Next, she writes that she goes downstairs, eats breakfast, dresses and takes the bus to school.  Once in school, she grabs her texts from her locker, talks to a friend,  heads to her first class, and meets one of her new teachers.

“Do you need that part about going downstairs, eating, taking the bus, and going to your locker?” I ask her.

“Well, yeah.  How else do I show that I go to school?”

“Could you write about waking up and being nervous to meet your new teacher, and then jump to the part where the teacher meets you, saying ‘Welcome to our math class, Cara.’?”

“No, because how will the readers know who is talking and that it is later that day?”

“Okay.  Could you say, ‘Cara, is it?’ my new teacher said as I walked in the classroom an hour later.”

“You mean I don’t need to say all the in-between stuff?”

“That’s right.”  I suggest she cut and paste her paragraphs about eating, riding the bus and going to her locker to the bottom of the narrative for now while she thinks more about it.

She does, hesitantly.  A little later, she deletes that part.  “I guess I don’t need it after all.”

Problem 2:  But I can’t write, “’Cara, is it?’” my new teacher said as I walked in the classroom an hour later” because it’s only one sentence, and every paragraph needs five sentences.”

“No, it doesn’t.  Look at any book and count the number of sentences in each paragraph.  Lots will have only one sentence, and others will have seven or ten or even a fragment.”

She picked up a book and opened it and counted sentences.  She closed the book.  “But then why do my teachers say I need to write five sentences in each paragraph?”

“That’s to encourage you to write more.”

“You mean there’s no rule?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

She left the one-sentence paragraph on her page, and followed it by another one-sentence paragraph.

* * * *

Sometimes working with a writing tutor means dispelling myths, like the five-sentence paragraph or needing to write a “before” to a story instead of jumping right in.  Sometimes working with a writing tutor means making mistakes repeatedly, like forgetting to use apostrophes or using texting abbreviations, and asking for help.  Sometimes working with a writing tutor means trying stylistic changes, like adding dialog or figurative language.  Sometimes working with a writing tutor means experimenting with vocabulary the student has not written before.

Do you know a student who could use one-on-one writing instruction?  Tell that student’s parent about me.  I tutor writing to students, second grade to high school,  online.  Together students and I plan, organize, write first drafts, and revise, noting why each step in the process is important.  Writing well is like playing the piano well or kicking a soccer ball well.  It takes practice.  And with a knowledgeable coach or tutor, a student improves faster.

 

 

How to write narrative essays

Narrative essays are short stories, real or imagined.  Like novels, they follow a pattern of beginning, middle, and end, or in academic terms, inciting event, rising action, climax, falling action and resolution.

But how do you begin?  This is the question I am asked more than any other by my students.  My answer is the same as for an expository or persuasive essay.  You begin with a written plan.

I have students write the word “beginning” near the top of the page, “middle” about a third of the way down, and “end” a bit up from the bottom (on notebook paper or on a blank page on the computer—it doesn’t matter).

Next to “beginning” I have students write “setting” and draw a sideways V like this:  <.  Extending from the top arm of the <, I ask students to write the place where the story takes place.  Next to the bottom arm of the <, I ask students to write the time of day/season or some other words to indicate when the story is taking place.  For example, these words could be “the first day of middle school,” or “when I broke five ribs.”  I ask students to start by identifying the setting because this is what readers look for when they start to read a narrative.  They want to know if they are reading about the French Revolution or life on Mars one thousand years into the future.  Knowing the setting orients readers.  It should be noted in the first paragraph or two of a narrative.

Continuing under “beginning,” I ask students to identify in a column the characters who will be in the story.  Sometimes this means names and sometimes this means positions or relationships such as “the doctor” or “the hit-and-run driver.”  Next to each character, name the character’s role such as protagonist, antagonist, foil, mentor, sage, trouble-maker or any roles that make sense.  Also list character traits and emotions to emphasize for each important character.

Readers want to identify and get in the head of the most important character, the focal character.  They want to emotionally feel what that character feels.  So decide who that character is.  Usually, it is the protagonist.

Identify the theme you want to show.  In other kinds of essays, the “theme” is called the main idea or the thesis.  In narratives you should be able to state the theme in a sentence such as “Doing something hard in public takes courage” or “Dogs can be exasperating.”  The theme is what you want to emphasize in your narrative.

In a column under “middle,” list the events or incidents that will happen in the story in the sequence in which they will happen.  Usually, this sequence is chronological order.  Any other kind of sequence such as jumping back and forth in time will make your narrative difficult to follow.  I find using bullets is a good way to list, especially if you are using a computer that allows you to cut and paste to reorder information.

You want the “middle” to be long enough so you can identify details to use—maybe 15 lines.  If the “middle” is too short, you haven’t thought your plot through enough.  If it is longer than 15 lines, you need to cut back.  A good finished narrative length is about three pages of text, double spaced, in 12-point type (1000 words).  Many teachers won’t read more unless your writing is exceptional.

Under “end,” write “climax.”  Identify what happens at the climax.  This is where the theme is most evident, where you do that thing in public that is so hard or where that exasperating dog forces you to take action.  At the climax, readers should feel strong emotion.  So should you as you write and reread your climax.

If you have introduced details left unexplained, do that quickly.  Then write your ending.  What is most important is that the ending is satisfying to the reader.  Satisfying is not the same as positive.  Not all endings are happy.  Even when the ending doesn’t turn out as the protagonist hopes, that character still comes away a different person, someone who has grown through the experience.  Make sure your protagonist shows growth and that growth is connected to your theme.

Does a narrative have a thesis?

Does a narrative have a thesis?

Yes, though it’s not called a thesis.  It’s called a story arc.  Think of some of the best-selling novels or movies you’ve read or seen.  Do they contain a story arc?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How about Gone with the Wind?  The story starts with flirty Miss Scarlett surrounded by young men, all madly in love with her.  The story moves upstairs at the Wilkes’ mansion where the girls are reclining—all but Scarlet who slips downstairs, draws Ashley Wilkes into the library, and declares her love for him.  He politely says no, but  Scarlett won’t accept his refusal.  When Ashley leaves, Scarlet throws china at the fireplace.  An amused Rhett Butler, who has overheard everything, is aroused.  Scarlet wants Ashley and will do what it takes to get him.  And Rhett wants Scarlett.

How about Anna Karenina?  In the opening pages, Mrs. Karenina visits her brother who has recently had an affair.  She meets a military officer and by her return home a few days later, she is in love, as is Count Vronsky.   Anna Karenina wants Count Vronsky and flaunts society to live as his mistress.

As Huckleberry Finn begins, Huck tries repeatedly to get away from the Widow Douglas who represents rules and civilized behavior–anathema to Huck. Pretty soon he does slip away, finding a raft and floating down the Mississippi with Jim, an escaped slave.  Huckleberry Finn rides the Mississippi in order to experience freedom.

How about Casablanca?  Rick, a stoic bar owner, lives without love until his old flame and her husband appear in his bar.  He must choose:  keep Elsa for himself and be safe or help her husband and her to escape the Nazis and become a wanted man.  Rick wrestles with emotions he thought were dead to make his choice.

Agatha Christie wrote dozens of murder mysteries all with the same story arc:  Who done it?  You know when you start to read one of her books that someone will die, and eventually, someone will be exposed as the killer.  Person A kills person B and either Hercule Poirot or Miss Marple solves the crime.

Have you ever read a story lacking a story arc?  I have started several, but if I can’t figure out where the story is going early on, I don’t continue.  So a story arc is like a thesis in that it tells readers what they can expect to learn from the story.  A story arc is usually stated more obliquely than a thesis, but it must be present for the story to be satisfying.