Showing posts with label choices. Show all posts
Friday, May 6, 2016
PPBF: But It's Not My Fault
Posted by
Amazing People,
on
4:00 AM
Happy PPBF. Today, a responsibility gold mine.
Title: But It's Not My Fault
Author: Julia Cook
Illustrator: Anita DuFalla
Publisher: Boys Town Press
Date: March 23, 2015
Suitable for: ages 5-8
Themes: responsibility, ownership, choices
Realistic Fiction
Brief synopsis: Noodle gets in trouble for stuff that he's sure is not his fault. Will he learn the difference between fault and responsibility?
Opening page:
My name is Norman David Edwards ... but everybody calls me Noodle.
Resources:
Download this freebie activity from Jennifer Tracy at TpT.
Here's a bookmark template to reinforce the lesson.
Watch the book's trailer:
Why I like this book: Julia Cook books are so real because, as a former teacher and school counselor and a current mom and grandmother, she's been in our shoes. They deal with real-world issues, which she tackles head on with authenticity, transparency, and grace. In this treasure, Julia spotlights responsibility, choices and consequences; Noodle's story helps teach a life skill that every child can benefit from experiencing, reflecting upon, reviewing and practicing over and over again.
Try one or both of these little ditties:
Before trying this one, talk about stakeholders, the people who have a stake in our decisions, who care about, are involved in or will be affected by our choices. Let students brainstorm a list of all of their stakeholders and talk about why these people really make their every decision even more important.
Try one or both of these little ditties:
Before trying this one, talk about stakeholders, the people who have a stake in our decisions, who care about, are involved in or will be affected by our choices. Let students brainstorm a list of all of their stakeholders and talk about why these people really make their every decision even more important.
How might you use this text to make a school-to-home connection? The Assistant Principal over at Robinson Elementary actually sends it home following office referrals so that families can work together to help their children be accountable and take responsibility for their choices.
Monday, June 23, 2014
Tricking The Reader By Choice
Posted by
Amazing People,
on
10:00 AM
No story is full of high drama all the time. Sometimes you�re setting things up or dealing with the aftermath of some event, and the characters are on their own or in a non-volatile situation.
Introducing a problem or a struggle at this point, even a small one, often helps to keep the narrative interesting, but there are times when you don�t want your character to be fighting battles or solving puzzles.
So how do you turn a mundane moment into something more gripping without resorting to enemies to battle or mountains to climb?
It�s worth remembering that conflict isn�t just fighting and arguing. Any kind of struggle for a character is going to lift a scene above the mundane, even when nothing much is going on. One technique for achieving this is to turn an action into a choice.
If the scene is full of drama and action then conflict won�t be hard to create, but it�s those other scenes I want to look at, so I�m going to use the most bland examples I can think of to demonstrate my point (although you can still use this approach to heighten an already highly charged scenes).
Let�s say our character comes down to have breakfast. Maybe it�s the start of the story, or a lull between hugely suspenseful chapters, either way it�s very easy to make this kind of scene incredibly dull.
Most of the time the advice will be to cut it or make it as short as possible, but there are times when you need this kind of scene. You can convince yourself the quiet, uneventful nature of the scene is necessary and reflects the mood of the character, but dull is never fun to read no matter how meaningful you think it is.
However, if instead of having the character go through their normal everyday actions as they would in real life, you give the character a choice to make it will immediately intensify the moment.
Rather than have them go in the kitchen and have a bowl of cereal, have them decide whether they want cereal or toast.
Now, this choice isn�t in itself going to grip the reader. When the choice is inconsequential it makes no real difference. It is more interesting than no choice, but not by much.
Consequences are what make the choice interesting to people other than the person choosing. So let�s say our man fancies cereal but there�s only enough milk for one person and he knows his wife will want her morning coffee with milk or she gets very grouchy.
This very low-stakes choice is still enough to raise a few questions and focus the reader on what he will do. But when you have a one-sided choice like this (he knows one will create problems and the other one won�t, so not much of a choice) it only really creates the kind of conflict we want if the character chooses the unwise option. The hell with his wife!
The problem, though, is that once you raise a question like this the reader will want to see how it turns out, so a scene with the wife opening the fridge door and finding an empty bottle is almost unavoidable. Which is fine if the story is about their relationship�you can afford to let the scene play out�but if it was just a small interlude and you don�t really want to spend too much time on it you can find the narrative spiralling off into a tangent making the whole thing more trouble than it�s worth.
If you�re just trying to add a little oomph to a quiet moment you might not want to introduce a lengthy subplot for no particular reason.
The whole point here is to try and give a minor scene a bit of a lift without making it too involved.
A better way to make the choice more interesting is to give both options consequences. If he eats the cereal his wife will be pissed, but if he eats toast it will break his no carbs diet and he�s really got to lose some weight.
This approach can still spin off into an unnecessary digression. Whichever he chooses will it really matter to the reader if you don�t follow through on the outcome of his choice?
What you can do to keep it short and still engaging is to take the third choice. The one you didn�t mention.
For example, let�s say our man comes down for breakfast. There are pizza boxes everywhere and the place is a mess. I have to sort my life out, he thinks to himself. He considers his choices: a low fat yoghurt that tastes terrible or an apple, the most boring of all fruits. He leaves the house eating a slice of cold pizza.
Did I say pizza was an option? No, but I planted the idea when I mentioned the pizza boxes.
The choice of yoghurt or apple (dull as it was) raises a question.
The very low-stakes consequences of those choices are enough to keep the reader engaged, at least until they get the answer.
The surprising third option is not only a nice way to reveal a little of the character�s personality, it makes the reader totally forget about where the other options would have led.
No need for lengthy explorations of the effects of his choice, no follow through necessary. Short and concise.
This means you can use choices with consequences to pull the reader in, and use a surprising third option to trick the reader into not asking any awkward questions (that might need extra writing).
Cheating? Absolutely. In my pizza example, I started with the choice of yoghurt or apple, decided he would reject both and choose pizza, and only then did I go back and add in the pizza boxes at the start. Being the writer allows you to do that, like a magician stuffing his sleeves with doves.
Come up with three choices, decide which one you want the character to choose, tell the reader the other two. Now you just have to go back and plant a few clues that seem unrelated and hey presto, option number three is both a surprise and logically sound.
Introducing a problem or a struggle at this point, even a small one, often helps to keep the narrative interesting, but there are times when you don�t want your character to be fighting battles or solving puzzles.
So how do you turn a mundane moment into something more gripping without resorting to enemies to battle or mountains to climb?
It�s worth remembering that conflict isn�t just fighting and arguing. Any kind of struggle for a character is going to lift a scene above the mundane, even when nothing much is going on. One technique for achieving this is to turn an action into a choice.
If the scene is full of drama and action then conflict won�t be hard to create, but it�s those other scenes I want to look at, so I�m going to use the most bland examples I can think of to demonstrate my point (although you can still use this approach to heighten an already highly charged scenes).
Let�s say our character comes down to have breakfast. Maybe it�s the start of the story, or a lull between hugely suspenseful chapters, either way it�s very easy to make this kind of scene incredibly dull.
Most of the time the advice will be to cut it or make it as short as possible, but there are times when you need this kind of scene. You can convince yourself the quiet, uneventful nature of the scene is necessary and reflects the mood of the character, but dull is never fun to read no matter how meaningful you think it is.
However, if instead of having the character go through their normal everyday actions as they would in real life, you give the character a choice to make it will immediately intensify the moment.
Rather than have them go in the kitchen and have a bowl of cereal, have them decide whether they want cereal or toast.
Now, this choice isn�t in itself going to grip the reader. When the choice is inconsequential it makes no real difference. It is more interesting than no choice, but not by much.
Consequences are what make the choice interesting to people other than the person choosing. So let�s say our man fancies cereal but there�s only enough milk for one person and he knows his wife will want her morning coffee with milk or she gets very grouchy.
This very low-stakes choice is still enough to raise a few questions and focus the reader on what he will do. But when you have a one-sided choice like this (he knows one will create problems and the other one won�t, so not much of a choice) it only really creates the kind of conflict we want if the character chooses the unwise option. The hell with his wife!
The problem, though, is that once you raise a question like this the reader will want to see how it turns out, so a scene with the wife opening the fridge door and finding an empty bottle is almost unavoidable. Which is fine if the story is about their relationship�you can afford to let the scene play out�but if it was just a small interlude and you don�t really want to spend too much time on it you can find the narrative spiralling off into a tangent making the whole thing more trouble than it�s worth.
If you�re just trying to add a little oomph to a quiet moment you might not want to introduce a lengthy subplot for no particular reason.
The whole point here is to try and give a minor scene a bit of a lift without making it too involved.
A better way to make the choice more interesting is to give both options consequences. If he eats the cereal his wife will be pissed, but if he eats toast it will break his no carbs diet and he�s really got to lose some weight.
This approach can still spin off into an unnecessary digression. Whichever he chooses will it really matter to the reader if you don�t follow through on the outcome of his choice?
What you can do to keep it short and still engaging is to take the third choice. The one you didn�t mention.
For example, let�s say our man comes down for breakfast. There are pizza boxes everywhere and the place is a mess. I have to sort my life out, he thinks to himself. He considers his choices: a low fat yoghurt that tastes terrible or an apple, the most boring of all fruits. He leaves the house eating a slice of cold pizza.
Did I say pizza was an option? No, but I planted the idea when I mentioned the pizza boxes.
The choice of yoghurt or apple (dull as it was) raises a question.
The very low-stakes consequences of those choices are enough to keep the reader engaged, at least until they get the answer.
The surprising third option is not only a nice way to reveal a little of the character�s personality, it makes the reader totally forget about where the other options would have led.
No need for lengthy explorations of the effects of his choice, no follow through necessary. Short and concise.
This means you can use choices with consequences to pull the reader in, and use a surprising third option to trick the reader into not asking any awkward questions (that might need extra writing).
Cheating? Absolutely. In my pizza example, I started with the choice of yoghurt or apple, decided he would reject both and choose pizza, and only then did I go back and add in the pizza boxes at the start. Being the writer allows you to do that, like a magician stuffing his sleeves with doves.
Come up with three choices, decide which one you want the character to choose, tell the reader the other two. Now you just have to go back and plant a few clues that seem unrelated and hey presto, option number three is both a surprise and logically sound.
Monday, June 9, 2014
The Emotion of Changing Your Mind
Posted by
Amazing People,
on
10:00 AM
Throughout a story there will be moments where the central character will do things that are interesting, exciting, scary or whatever. These kinds of scenes where key events occur are what you build towards, and their aftermath will provide the momentum/motivation to keep the reader turning pages to get to the next one, and the one after that.
But even though the chase, the rescue, the attack on the enemy base, will be an entertaining set-piece, there is another, equally important, part of this moment: the decision to do it.
Every big scene will be preceded by the character having to choose to engage with whatever scenario they�re faced with. This choice is incredibly important, both to the character and to the reader.
You can, of course, skim over this moment. In some stories the main character is of a type where his actions don�t require much explanation. If the girl�s been taken, he will find her and punish those responsible. If the killer has put out a challenge for the cop to meet him alone and unarmed, he�s out the door straight away.
Or you could show the decision made in a very intellectual manner. The character thinks it through or talks it over with someone and comes to the rational and logical choice.
Or they simply go to bed unsure of what to do, and wake up with a determined glint in their eye.
All of these approaches are perfectly plausible, but they miss a great opportunity to connect your reader to your characters at a much deeper level.
Let�s say our main character wants to be a pilot. He studies hard and trains to be good enough. He faces difficulties, people stand in his way, but he knows what he wants and overcomes all obstacles and finally he gets his wings.
The problem with this story is that while it is a very relatable, true to life sort of tale, it lacks drama or conflict. Even if the obstacles he faces are tough and his responses very clever, or his journey is full of interesting and entertaining moments, as a character he is missing something very important. He never changes his mind. He doesn�t experience doubt. He never considers failure. He basically lacks depth.
Now consider a pilot who is asked to go on a vital mission. He is the best man for the job and the future of the world is at stake. He refuses. Everyone tries to convince him but he just won�t do it. But then something happens and he realise he has to go on the mission.
Why did he refuse? What got him to change his mind? How will he fare when he�s so obviously doesn�t want to be there. These are questions that make a straightforward situation into a dynamic one.
Before our hero has even started his exciting adventure the audience is already invested in the journey about to take place. And anytime a character heads into a dramatic event, showing how they get there will send the reader in at a run instead of a saunter. Any turning point in a character�s narrative pulls the reader into the character�s world and mind-set.
And the thing that cements this connection is the emotion of the moment. Whenever a character is sure they want to do X but end up having to do Y there�s going to be an emotional wrench. It can be any number of emotions�angry they have no other choice, delighted they get to be the one, scared they won�t make it out alive� but whatever it is, it�s important we see it happen and that it�s conveyed in the most visceral manner possible.
One way to do this is to use setting and activity to magnify the emotion.
Take our reticent pilot, for example. Let�s say he was responsible for a terrible accident that left his crew dead. He doesn�t want to lead more men and women to their deaths so he refuses the job to fly a space shuttle to a new planet that holds the future of mankind (or something).
Then he learns his son has signed on for this mission after his father specifically forbade him, and the guy in charge is somebody our hero knows isn�t up to the job. He has to take the assignment if he wants to make sure his son survives.
So, fairly standard stuff. But when our man finds out this stuff, where is he? What is he doing? Because those things will be integral to how the reader connects with the scene.
Once you work out the emotion the character is going through, then it will have far greater impact for the reader if you use the physical world of the scene to reflect that emotion.
So let�s say he is with his son and grandson at a local fair. He doesn�t want to blow his top in front of his grandchild. They�re at a coconut shy and the kid wants a teddy bear. Can you transfer the emotion he�s feeling into how he throws balls at coconuts? How he throws them, his aim, his competitiveness with his son, all these things can be used to reflect how he�s feeling about the other situation.
And while this sort of scene works as a way to show us the kind of person he is, the kind of relationship he has with his son (and grandson) and all sorts of character stuff, the big payoff will be when he turns up in the cockpit. No matter what his approach�polite, restrained, professional�we will have the inside story of what�s going on with him and it will add a whole extra level of reader engagement with the story.
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Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Number Of Stories: Infinite
Posted by
Amazing People,
on
10:00 AM
Girl meets boy. Cop catches killer. Knight defeats dragon.
There may only be a limited number of types of story, but each is made up of a series of connected goals.
In order to get from A to Z, you first have to get from A to B. Then from B to C. How the character reaches each goal requires a choice. When you string enough choices together not only do you end up with a story, but you also create a pattern to that narrative.
In order to get the most out of this process, though, you need to be aware of what options are available to the character at each stage.
The most obvious and familiar ways to deal with a problem, both from real life and from other works of fiction, are going to pop into your head first. But if you dig a bit deeper, you will find a variety of alternatives.
That doesn�t mean you should choose one bizarre event after another�unless that�s the kind of story you want to write�but putting a character on a set path and then seeing them through from one end to the other makes it feel predictable.
It�s easy as a writer to reduce the process to the final decision. You know what he�s going to end up doing so why not cut to the chase? But it�s seeing the character make the choice that�s the interesting part for the reader. Why did he have to make the decision? What were the options? How did it go over? What were the consequences? These are the things that turn a predictable journey into a story.
Here�s an example of what I mean. Tim is a journalist and he�s going to get sent to Glasgow to cover a story. The scene I write to show this is in Tim�s editor�s office where the editor tells him his assignment and sends him off.
That could be an okay scene, showing us where Tim works, some banter between boss and employee, some set up as to what the story is going to be about, and so on.
But ultimately the reader is told what is going to happen and then it happens. I want you on a plane to Glasgow tonight... and then he�s on a plane.
There�s no room for making choices here. However, if I know that I want my character to go to Glasgow in this story, then what if his editor sits him down and tells him he wants him on the first plane to Dublin?
Now he has to think of a way to get himself off that story and onto the one he�s interested in. He could ask the editor nicely, he could trick an ambitious rival into demanding the Dublin gig, he could lie, he could beg, or whatever.
You have the character�s personality (what he�s capable of) and you have all the ways you can think of to get him on that plane. Every time he makes a move, an array of new moves and counter-moves come into play.
It�s like the road splitting into ten paths, choosing one, and then that road splitting into ten branches and so on. Only, instead of ten paths, you actually have however many you can imagine your character considering.
Even though he�s still just going from A to B, there isn�t just one route to take. That�s what creates the feeling of it being his story, even though what he�s doing isn�t new or unusual. But it�s important to show the choices being made, not just their outcome.
If you found this post useful, please give it a retweet. Cheers
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