Lit Corner: Three Things Every Scene Needs

So The Bathroom Monologues is going to have a Sunday feature on the crafts of writing and storytelling. 'Lit Corner' is as temporary a title as it gets. Have an idea for a better permanent title? Please drop it into the comments below!

Recently on Reddit's /r/Writing forum, someone asked what things every scene needs. Not "chapter," not "act," but "scene." It was a wonderful thing to reflect upon because I'm a very scene-specific writer. Some of my scenes are as long as professional short stories.

Yet I try not to ask too many specific things from every scene because something so varied can have so many different appeals. The old Vonengut chestnut that every character ought to want something is fine, but honestly, Mieville's Perdido Street Station has some scenes that are almost all setting and they're splendid.

So here are my petty few. My Magnificent Three. I'd say to shoot for two of these three in any given scene:

1) Something that makes me glad I've read what came before it. Obviously this doesn't work for your opening scene, but pretty much any one after it ought to build, extend, reference, counterpoint, disagree with, or in some other way respond to something earlier, I ought to feel I'm benefiting from having read this far.

Think plot continuity or twists, think revelations, think character development. It can be Alice returning to a cherry tree she planted thirty years ago and seeing how it's changed, or it can George R.R. Martin killing off another parental figure.

2) Something that makes me want to read on. Usually not a cliffhanger, but something in this scene that is a good reason to want to read another scene later.

Will the Romans come back for Jesus?

Will Gatsby reach out to that girl?

What's in JJ Abrams's Mystery Box?

It can be much subtler than all of those, even just something the ominous in the background that I'll hope I'll learn more about or see more of later. This is the reflection of #1; it's making me feel I will be rewarded for reading on.

3) Something that's intrinsically entertaining, important or just worth reading in this damned scene.

Because you can't just rely on what came before and setting up what comes next. It can be some funny Douglas Adams one-liners, or you can have plot payoffs in every single scene. Inconsequential or hugely consequential. Are you one of those conflict-on-every-page guys? That's great if you can make your conflict worthwhile. Just make sure that there's something in this scene that is worth reading for other than it having to be here.

All three of these are exceedingly fuzzy items because storytelling is extremely fuzzy. J.K. Rowling and Jennifer Egan have insanely different strengths; you can't tell them both to write to the same scene-appeals. But if every scene does at least two of the above three things, I'm guaranteed to finish reading the book.

J.K. Rowling Is Not Your Bitch

The Casual Vacancy, held by some lady.

Full disclosure: I don’t like Harry Potter. Book 2 is a darned fine novel, but it’s also essentially a remake of Book 1, and the series goes lugubrious from there. My friends know me as the miserable troll under the YA bridge.

Hate that J.K. Rowling is writing a non-Fantasy book for adults? Then I hate you. Well, no, but I detest this outcry. A block of fans is demanding she pigeonhole herself with childhood angst and bookish wizardry. Instead of writing yet another YA novel where she’s guaranteed enormous sales and praise, she’s taken a risk and is exploring her craft. She’s in a fine financial position to try it, but it’s still brave, and not nearly enough authors do it.

Look, it’s not that Rowling gave you this YA tent. It existed before her, but not like this, and post-Rowling this stuff that you love is ubiquitous. Aside from detonating the YA explosion, she gave you seven novels at something like 5,000 total pages, which fully ended the God-damned story. To be angry that she writes anything else indicates a disgusting level of entitlement.

Oh, the entitlement. Oh, the things I’ve heard her “fans” decry. To list them would take… well, not an unnecessary amount of time. Precisely the right amount of time.

1)      “She’s acting like she’s better than Fantasy.”
I have yet to read a single interview or watch a single Youtube clip of her condescending against YA or Fantasy. This seems to be audiences overreacting to her simply writing something that isn’t YA Fantasy, perhaps even something that isn’t Harry Potter. All this means is she’s interested in more things than Potter. She’s clearly interested in magic, or she wouldn’t have written so many yammering pages of it.

2)      “She’s selling out.”
She became a billionaire off of Potter. If anything, A Casual Vacancy will be
a substantial pay cut.

3)      “I don’t want to read a magic-free Rowling world.”
Do you read any magic-free worlds? If so, then why not read one by her? She’s never published such a thing before, so you don’t know whether she’s bad at it. If you honestly love this author’s previous creations, consider giving her a chance at new works. Even if she sucks at it, this path of her career could open up unpredictable growth in her abilities later.

4)      “I knew it would suck. All the reviews say it sucks.”
Lev Grossman loved it. Newsweek backed it. I know Michiko Kakutani is throwing clods at the book, but especially for a first adult-book from the highest profile author alive, I honestly expected far worse critical press.

5)      “Small-town politics is so done.”
So are magic kids. They were done to bloody death before Rowling even picked up a pen.

6)      “The price of the Kindle version is too high.”
Not only is this not Rowling’s fault, but her publisher didn’t sell you a Kindle. Your Kindle ownership doesn’t entitle you to Hachette cutting your costs. If Amazon wanted to incentivize with her publisher, they could. As it is, it’ll probably be on their free Prime library in a year.

7)      “But my Kindle edition doesn’t work!”
You’re right. Hachette screwed up on that one, and if that’s your only complaint, please continue. It’s an embarrassment to an entire industry that will probably get someone fired and shouldn’t have been possible on such a big release.

Think about all the virtues in Harry Potter.
Now think about how few are manifesting in this audience.

Most of this argument has brought up sad echoes from Harry Potter’s past. I remember all those fans saying new or lapsed readers were picking up her books and falling in love with reading all sorts of new works. If you have a massive contingent of people whining she’s not writing about wizards, it cripples the thrust. It also feeds into one of the publishing industry’s most insidious stupidities.

You know that particular stupidity, don’t you? It’s the one that made editors pressure Ursula K. LeGuin to write more like Rowling. It’s not only the little guy-and-gal authors who get this; it’s legends and treasures of our canons who have been told to ape the most popular act. Now we’re experiencing the next step in this absurdism: the public yelling at Rowling to write more like herself.

This the same backlash Stephen King got for writing something other than Horror. Alexander Pope still gets it, centuries after his death, for writing anything other than satire. It’s a backlash so common and severe that when God tried to change up His sequel to The Torah, the Romans killed His only son.

It doesn’t have to be like this. Fundamentally, this is about readers feeling passionately about a creator’s work, and that’s a lovely kernel. But we need to encourage our heroes to produce diverse works, from wherever they derive inspiration. There are few greater compliments to someone’s prior novels than in patience and respect for their new experiments. That’s all anyone needs to display here – that, and how to code a readable e-book.

Bathroom Monologue: Merlin, Gandalf and Dumbledore (Redux)

As soon as the last Grail meeting ended, Merlin slipped out the door and lit a cigarette. One of the squires came over.

“Good boy. Is my horse ready?”

“Yes, sir. But are you certain you should go now? Their crusade could begin any month.”

“Listen, that hobbit isn’t going to pull this off by himself and Arthur knows what he’s doing. I’ve got two weeks vacation from Camelot and if anyone gets suspicious I’ll blame it on Morgana. You can blame anything on the old bitch. Two weeks is all I need to ride to Rivendell, from there around the cliffs and I make the necessary cameo to inspire and point him in the right direction again. I swear, if I didn’t show up regularly they’d wander into Las Vegas before they hit the Misty Mountains.”

He combed his beard with his fingers, changed his pointy blue hat for one with a rim and swapped his staff for that sword the elves dropped. Then he turned back to the squire.

“How do I look?”

“Exactly the same, sir.”

“Good, good. If Hogwartz calls again tell them I’m not playing phone tag anymore. If they want me to be head wizard, I want time and a half plus a pension that doesn’t rely on disgusting jellybeans. Playing two roles is hard enough.”

Then the wizard hustled to the stables, mumbling something about how having to make so many dramatic appearances had turned his hair white.