Hello, writers. Last week we talked about the Turkey City Lexicon. I notice that I kind of focused more on the stylistic items in the lexicon, such as the tendency to use synonyms for “said” or to make up bizarre neologisms for everyday things (“Calling a Rabbit a Smeerp”).
Let's talk about some of the plot-related items.
The Jar of Tang and related “twist” problems
A Jar of Tang plot, also called a “concealed environment” plot, is one where there's a sudden twist at the end to reveal that all is not as it seemed... we are really living in a jar of Tang. One problem with this is that it frequently requires a sudden point-of-view shift.
Another problem is that if a writer is in the habit of writing such plots, readers will get very good at guessing his/her endings, and this will distract them from the story.
A third problem is that it cheats the characters. The characters should be solving story problems, not bumbling around waiting for a POV shift to suddenly reveal a twist to the reader.
A related twist problem is the plot where the protagonist doesn't know-- but eventually finds out-- the secret of his/her parentage. This invariably changes everything. Often it entitles the protagonist to something (a crown, say, or admittance to the Land of Faery) that s/he didn't have before. Cheating.
(The secret parentage plot can be done well, but only if the author doesn't rely on DNA alone to deliver a pleasing tale.)
The Idiot Plot
This is the plot that only works if everyone in the story exhibits a singular lack of mental acuity. The villain does something no self-respecting villain would do. The heroine tells an obvious lie and everyone believes her. The hero dresses up as a woman and no one notices his 5 o'clock shadow.
A related problem is the hero too dumb to figure out something that the reader figures out on page 5. This is especially annoying to readers if there's another hint on page 11, a third on page 40... and so on, and the hero finally twigs to what's going on on page 220, by which time the reader may have left.
Instead, hints should be kept subtle enough that the reader won't actually recognize them till s/he goes back and looks. It's a delicate balance.
Another related problem is when the hero fails to do some simple thing that would solve his/her problem, because s/he doesn't think of it (but the reader does). (I was reading a mystery last night in which the protagonist has obtained a vital piece of evidence, the victim's hard-drive, through an illegal search, and mourns that it can't be turned over to the police. But he doesn't think of leaving it around where the police would find it, which he could easily do.) These errors can be hard to catch, and are one of the reasons a critique group and/or beta readers are really helpful.
The Cozy Catastrophe and related vision problems
The lexicon describes the Cozy Catastrophe as a “dystopian” plot in which the white male protagonist has it pretty good-- a cool car, a penthouse apartment, and, of course, a hot babe.
A related plot problem is the plot that only works if the reader is just like the writer. The plot relies on an assumption that isn't necessarily a rare one, but that will alienate some readers. For example, a common version of this is a plot which relies on the assumption that Muslim women are all oppressed and Muslim men are all oppressive. Another common one is the assumption that people in science/tech fields are geniuses, while those in service industries are --while useful and necessary of course-- all rather dim in a bovine kind of way.
(This is related to the “Squid in the Mouth,” but is different in that the plot-assumptions are likely to go unnoticed by most readers, but will definitely be noticed by those readers who feel insulted.)
Since the above doesn't really lend itself to a tonight's challenge, here's a different one.
A staple of winners of the Bulwer-Lytton Contest is the misplaced metaphor. Look at the 2013 winner for an example.
A misplaced metaphor is one that uses imagery completely removed from the thing the writer is trying to describe.
For example:
The child whined like the whistle of the 5:14 express train from Chicago to Joliet.
Misplaced metaphors can work if they're funny enough (Terry Pratchett gets away with them) but they usually have the effect of distracting readers, jarring them out of the story. They're mood killers.
Tonight's challenge:
For each of the scenarios listed below, write a sentence (or two) and then kill the mood with a misplaced metaphor.
- the meeting of two lovers who have been forced to part by cruel circumstance
- sunrise on a battlefield
- a detective enters a seemingly-abandoned house in which s/he suspects a body may be hidden
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