Random Rambling: Creative Writing

We have... let's say an eclectic mix of interests, and we feel our patrons do too.  With that thought in mind, we present a feature we call "Random Rambling."  It isn't quite random, but it's close:  we made a little spinner with some of our favorite subjects.  Every Friday, we give the thing a spin, and then you, lucky people that you are, get to learn a fact related to the subject the spinner landed on.

This week's topic is:

Creative Writing!

Hmm.  That's a pretty big subject.  Let's try talking about one specific creative writing tool and see how that goes.  Today's tool is going to be the "dramatic turn."

A dramatic turn is a sudden and significant change in the direction of the drama.  It's kind of like when you're writing a story about a boy and a girl falling in love over their shared obsession with a specific coffee flavor.  At first, it seems shallow, trite even, but over the course of the story, you build up the power of Pumpkin Spice and its pervasive effect on society.  From there, you introduce the main conflict of the story.  Are the boy and the girl really in love with each other?  Or are they simply doing as Pumpkin Spice dictates they should?

Over the course of 80,000 words, your story slowly, almost imperceptibly, shifts from a sappy romantic-comedy to a treatise on the conflict between determinism and free will.  Can Marko and Melissa even experience love in a system that mandates their every move?  Is there a difference between a love chosen by their favorite coffee flavor and the love chosen by themselves?

In Chapter 29, you render the question moot with the sudden revelation that Melissa is gay and was just trying to place a really complicated order.  The entire rest of the story immediately transforms.  Marko goes from philosophical coffee nerd to unmedicated schizophrenic over the course of a few pages.  Everything is re-examined through the lens of his retroactively obvious insanity.  And to be fair, the idea that Pumpkin Spice can dictate everything does sound less like a literary motif and more like something you would hear shouted by the weird guy on the bus.

You pause, looking at your manuscript.  Two thoughts strike you.  First:  why is it always a guy on the bus who makes the loud, weird comments?  A quick Google search determines that men are almost twice as likely to suffer from schizophrenia as women, so that makes sense.  Second:  why did you just spend months of your free time writing a novel about Pumpkin Spice?  You don't even drink coffee.

You slowly look up from your manuscript.  Did you always live in a small room with no windows or doors?  And why did you decide to mount that ominous camera in the corner?

The dramatic turn is a great tool for two things.  It's good for writing two stories at the same time, and it's great for breaking you out of writer's block.  It is also really easy to misuse, so you should be careful when breaking it out.  For example, revealing that what looked like a wholesome, if slightly coffee-obsessed, romance was actually a psychological thriller?  Great use.  Revealing that the entire post about dramatic turns isn't actually about dramatic turns at all?  Questionable.

Anyway, this entire post is about...

Dramatic turns.

Whew!  Dodged a bullet.

Although you could also make a case about demonstrating the use of motifs (specifically Pumpkin Spice), the strangeness that arises from breaking the fourth wall, and how Marko really needs to just calm down the next time somebody asks for a half-caff caramel mocha with almond milk and a shot of pumpkin spice.  It wouldn't be a very strong case, though.  This post is filled with sudden shifts in tone and direction, itself a demonstration that dramatic turns shouldn't be used too heavily; imagine reading an entire novel that bounced around the way this post did.

The important thing to understand about dramatic turns, and what you must understand before that camera in the corner winks out and you are finally freed from this timeless prison, is that the power of the dramatic turn comes from a combination of its suddenness and its severity.  Small or gradual turns won't feel dramatic, while sharp and drastic turns can feel cheap.  The best dramatic turns will resemble hairpin turns on roads:  a straight section with little deviation, the only decoration a series of signs warning that something is coming, but not what exactly to expect, and then a sudden slowdown as the curve appears, everything lurches sideways for a moment, and suddenly you are heading in a completely new direction.  Ideally, the turn is sharp enough to spill some of the pumpkin spice-flavored coffee you were trying to drink, but not so sharp that you lose track of the metaphor.  The goal is to unsettle the audience with the turn, not lose them.

In closing, when it comes to dramatic turns, the best turns are those that are clear in hindsight, but nearly invisible in their approach.  Which is why we won't be using one here.  You expect it by now.  Instead, we'll mention that future posts about creative writing will alternate between tongue-in-cheek demonstrations of creative writing tools and more straightforward creative writing exercises.

Also:

You don't know how long you end up being stuck in the room.  At first, you see nothing but featureless walls, the camera in the corner, a threadbare bed, and the desk you worked at for so long.  After what seems like far too much time, it occurs to you to look underneath the bed.  There, worn, wooden, ominous, but unlocked, is a trap door.  Playing a hunch, you lean forward, pressing your face into the wood of the door.  You breathe deeply.

A familiar scent fills your nostrils.