The Objective Correlative Defined

“In a time of destruction, create something.”

— Maxine Hong Kingston

The Zen Master and I went to a special Friday night gathering at the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis to see the incredibly vivid work of Pacita Abad. They encouraged people to wear bright colors and patterns to reflect Pacita's work and, as a Capricorn, I had to follow this rule to a T. 😂


I got the idea to take these PJ's I inherited from a friend - can I just say....we KILLED IT with the art crowd. One woman came up to us and said: "First I saw the jacket. Then I saw the pants. And then I was amazed." Made my night!


I chose this picture because it is an objective correlative of my mood these days: happy, hopeful, ready to take risks. 


The objective correlative is the single most impactful literary device I share with writers who are looking to up their writing game. 


What the heck is an "objective correlative"?


This is a term I learned while getting my MFA, where lecturers traced the term's popularization to T.S. Eliot's essay "Hamlet and his Problems" (1919). Side note: Hamlet had A LOT of problems. For the nerds: according to literary detectives, the term appeared to have first been used by Washington Allston, an American painter and poet, in 1840. 


Here's Eliot's definition, which requires some mental gymnastics:


“…a set of objects, a situation, a chain of events which shall be the formula of that Particular emotion; such that when the external facts, which must terminate in sensory experience, are given, the emotion is immediately evoked” (qtd. in J. A. Cuddon’s Dictionary of Literary Terms, page 647).


Translation: The objective correlative is the ultimate in metaphor, using something outside of your characters as symbolism that deepens the emotional resonance in your story and creates vivid, memorable moments.


This device allows you to use one object or weather system or place to convey what would have required pages and pages of on-the-nose writing. 


In other words, the objective correlative is something in the world of your story - the weather, an object, anything that is not internal or action-oriented - that does the heavy lifting of conveying the emotional state of your protagonist, your theme, the world of your book, and so much more. 


My most classic example is when writers use the weather to convey the inner state of their protagonist, whether it is reflecting it or used in juxtaposition. Think about how stormy and dark the weather and palette of the later Harry Potter movies are in comparison to the bright, sunny vibes in the earlier films. As Harry confronts his demons and prepares for his final showdown with Voldemort, the environment itself reflects his inner turmoil far better than people turning to the camera and saying, "Harry is depressed and traumatized and very confused about his role in saving the world." 


The objective correlative is the ace up your sleeve in show, don't tell. 


Now you have an actual STRATEGY to do that. For those of you who don't find showing vs. telling intuitive, then the objective correlative is your new best friend. 


Back to the Zen Master and I rocking those PJ's: 


Those outfits described our emotional state: two people walk into a place looking like that, you think they're happy, goofy, a unit that is playful and down for whatever. Now imagine if we'd both been dressed entirely in old, stained sweats with holes in a party filled with bright colors and creative fashion. What do you think those clothes would symbolize about the couple? The state of their marriage, finances, mental health?


In my novel Bad Romance, the protagonist, Grace, wears pink combat boots. They're an objective correlative for the fight of her life that she finds herself in when her relationship with her boyfriend turns abusive and she encounters emotional abuse at home. But they're pink because she's gonna put up her dukes with her creativity and dreams. Those boots tell us she's not going down easy, and she's going to do things her way. 


In contrast, the protagonist of The Iron Widow, Zeitan, a fierce pilot in a world where girls are sacrificed in battle, has bound feet - an agonizing practice performed in ancient China and thought to make girls more attractive to potential suitors. She longs to be free of the agonizing pain and knows she will never have the freedom available to some of the other female pilots, whose feet are not bound. This is an objective correlative for female subjugation and violence against women. (This YA novel was described to me as a "feminist scream of rage" and WHOA is it ever). 

A Few Famous Examples of the Objective Correlative 

• The above cover of Rebecca shows one of the many objective correlatives in that novel, which is filled with them. I often assign this book to my writers who are oriented toward setting so that they can learn from a master how to use setting to convey the emotional state of the protagonist. The sea, the weather, Manderlay, and so many objects that belonged to Rebecca all convey the delicious gothic horror of this novel. 

• Rosebud in Citizen Kane

• The green light at the end of the dock in Gatsby 

• The bagel in Everything, Everywhere, All at Once

• Katniss's pin in The Hunger Games

Below is an example from Mexican Gothic. Notice how the setting is giving us so much information about this house and its inhabitants without saying, "This house is creepy AF, run away, girl, RUN!" 

I especially dig the comparison to a scene of a crime. This novel is twisty and filled with suspense; this specific choice of words adds to the layers of foreboding and sinister tone. How would this read differently if the nymphs weren't "silent guardians" but cheerful greeters? What if the oval on the wall was compared to a portal, rather than the fingerprint of a crime scene? What if the crystal wasn't cloudy with age but was a nod to the gilded age and reminded Noemí of champagne glasses?


Do you see how the specificity here changes everything? 

Exercises for Working with the Objective Correlative 

At the back of John Gardner's The Art of Fiction there are a few stellar exercises that I'll share below. If you haven't yet downloaded your free 31 Days of Writing workbook from the subscriber portal, head on over there. You'll want to look at the following exercises to work with the objective correlative: Day 4, 5, and 6. 

If you’re not yet a subscriber for my free newsletter, click the button below and you’ll get instant access.

Exercises from The Art of Fiction


4a: Describe a landscape as seen by an old woman whose disgusting and detestable old husband has just died. Do not mention the husband or death. 


4b: Describe a lake as seen by a young man who has just committed murder. Do not mention the murder. 


4c: Describe a landscape as seen by a bird. Do not mention the bird. 


4d: Describe a building as seen by a man whose son has just been killed in a war. Do not mention the son, war, death, or the old man doing the seeing; then describe the same building, in the same weather and at the same time of day, as seen by a happy lover. Do not mention love or the loved one. 


You know what to do: grab a notebook and start working on some of these exercises! They are so much fun and you'll really begin to see the results in terms of show, don't tell, and a rich, vivid quality to your words. 



Yours in doing right by the miracle, 

The Purpose-Driven Writer

“This uniqueness and singleness which distinguishes each individual and gives a meaning to his existence has a bearing on creative work as much as it does human love.

When the impossibility of replacing a person is realized, it allows the responsibility which a man has for his existence and continuance to appear in all its magnitude.”

— Viktor E. Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning

It will come as no surprise to most of you that I had the words Do Right By The Miracle tattooed on my person.


Nor would it surprise you to learn that I consider this my purpose in life. That which gives my life meaning.


I have a second purpose, stolen from author, psychiatrist, and Holocaust survivor Victor E. Frankl: The meaning of my life is to help others find the meaning of theirs.


Hence, this blog!


And my oh-so-serious selfie above, taken where the epilogue of my new novel (!) happens. (Hint: Lake Superior's North Shore, my favorite place on the planet). This is Heather Living Her PURPOSE.


I came to this understanding of what my purpose is through a ton of work in the You Have A Process vein, including writing a writer's artist statement and working on the Be / Do / Feel / Have formula .


It's not super often that I write in this space about craft because my greatest joy as a mentor and writing friend is to get into process and practice. But! When I feel I have something meaningful to contribute, something which adds to the conversation among writers about craft, I'm always excited to share. I love talking craft with my 1:1 writers, as well as honing my own in the writer's seat. It often takes years of work in the trenches to come up with something I can articulate to all of you in a way that is actionable.


Many of you have already checked out the free Unlock Your Novel workbook in the Lotus & Pen subscribers portal (soon to be revised re: this blog). Some of you have taken my Writing Bingeable Characters course, or were students in other courses or workshops I've taught. So you're likely familiar with my focus on writing from the inside out, plotting from character, versus imposing a plot on a character.


After years of testing out my approach to plotting and characterization, I finally feel ready to put my process of plotting through character to unlock one's novel (whether in prepping, drafting, or revising) out into the world in a more consistent way.

I feel ready because I've figured out the missing piece to this process! On accident!


And all thanks to being a writer 24-7 and picking up Viktor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning as research for my WIP, as something to help my writers with, and as part of my ongoing inquiry into what it means to do right by the miracle.


Please replace "his" and "man" with your own gender or no gender. I know, it's annoying. But don't throw this baby out with the bathwater!


(Jesus, that's a violent metaphor. Did someone actually do that on accident?)


Frankl's observations and research bear out. To see this in action, check out Atul Gawande's Being Mortal - a must-read for all Americans concerned about aging, caretaking, and navigating the healthcare system skillfully.

“Everyone has his own specific vocation or mission in life to carry out a concrete assignment which demands fulfillment. Therein he cannot be replaced or repeated. Thus, everyone’s task is as unique as is his specific opportunity to implement it.”

— Viktor E. Frankl

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As many of you know, I talk about Unlocking your novel through what I previously called the Keyring of Desire, but will now just call the Character Keys because I always felt like that sounded like a regency romance. 🔥


There are now FOUR keys on this story keyring…I think I might have to develop a collection of awesome keyrings to add to my obsession with vintage keys.


So, grab a notebook and pen, because we've got some work to do! (( Do this on yourself if you're writing a memoir. ))

First, write down in whatever way is helpful to you what these four keys are.


Character Keys to Unlock Your Novel


Key #1: Desperate Desire - The thing your proto knows they want. (The job, the throne, etc.)

Key #2: Longing- I used to call this key the "Unconscious Need," but that term wasn't getting to the heart of this key, which is characterized by a deep, almost existential longing. it is often unconscious, but a highly articulate and emotionally intelligent character might be able to identify it, if pressed.

The character NEEDS this key in order to experience the transformation and eventual healing that (hopefully) comes at the end of your book.

Key #3: Misbelief - This is the story that runs your character, and it's not true. About themselves or the world or others. (You can't trust anyone, no one loves me, etc.). It’s a kind of wound, and it festers. You might even think of it as “their wound.” All misbeliefs have backstories. Your character is likely aware of this, but might not be. More likely, it’s not something they would be able to articulate unless they'd been in therapy for 10,000 years.

and...

drumroll....

the fourth key is....

Key #4: PURPOSE - The best way I can explain this is to say that your proto's purpose (and yours) is what they see their reason for being on this planet is. (to make people laugh, to save at least one life with their art, to bring more beauty to the world, to be a great dad, etc.)

In the early days of my publishing career, and even now, when I talked to teens, I structured my talk around encouraging kids to "live your what." Basically, what is your purpose and how do you live that? We had a scholarship program for a while, and it was so cool to read how the applicants wanted to live their what.


There were purposes like helping to end hunger, becoming a great athlete, inspiring others.


Frankl, I found, did the same thing in his wing of psychology, called logotherapy. His version is a more nuanced way to look at living your what:


Frankl didn't encourage people WHAT to do (prescriptive, always changing), but encouraged them to figure out WHY they do it.


The WHY is your purpose, the meaning of your life.


Put another way: Your purpose (and your proto's) is the axis on which your whole life spins.


It filters into everything - how you interact with others, what you write, what you choose to consume, etc. It might not always be front of mind, but it's there.


It doesn't have to be super serious and high stakes like mine!


I was raised by two Marines in an Evangelical family so I had no choice but to ride or die with my purpose. 🤣


I love this French creator's purpose - to bring silliness into the world. YES!!!! Also, how cute is Dumpster Dog???


What if Putin's goal was to bring silliness instead of chaos into the world? What if the NRA suddenly decided that silliness, not guns, would keep society safer?


One of my favorite YouTube videos ever is of these Soldiers doing a choreographed dance routine in Afghanistan - not only am I happy to have my tax dollars go to that, but I would absolutely love to see war just become an awesome dance off. Is this a silly thought? Sure. But you know what? It makes me smile and it gives me hope. (I know some of you might be thinking this is fucked-up because it's war and these guys are goofing off - I see your point, but have chosen to look at how this video has prompted me to wonder how maybe all Soldiers just want to shake their booty and would do that instead of hold guns if the world would let them know that was okay. And this has led to other thoughts about possibility in the vein of Truth and Reconciliation, another thing Frankl talks about and which is dealt with beautifully in Pumla Gobodo Madikizela's A Human Being Died That Night).

As you can see, I do a lot of light summer reading.🙃

I love how Circe's purpose - to experience her world fully and with pleasure and curiosity - not only makes her happy, but has a ripple effect of joy throughout our household. Her purpose may not "seem" noble, but it helps me keep the lights on when things get dark. And that's really important. It ensures I can do my work, fulfill my purpose.


Isn't it cool, how when you are fulfilling your purpose it helps others fulfill theirs?

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What does PURPOSE have to do with unlocking a novel and writing unforgettable, bingeable characters?

One of the challenges I and my writers have had is that EVEN WITH the first three character keys, it can be a bit tricky to find that strong throughline that drives your character.


This is because the DESPERATE DESIRE is temporary - it could be for just the length of the novel (save a kingdom) or might change midway through (save the kingdom might become avoiding the pressures of the throne).


The LONGING is, you'll remember, your character's wound - that thing they need to know or accept in order to be at ease with themselves and their life. This is strongly related to the third key, their MISBELIEF, which is the story they are telling themselves about the world or themselves or people that is not true. This story is a wound and it runs them. Healing that wound (key #2) in the climax is what brings them to the end of their journey.


BUT THE LAST PAGE OF YOUR BOOK IS NOT THE END OF THEIR JOURNEY.


This is the thing I realized was missing:


By focusing only on the length of our novel, we trip ourselves up because we're not thinking about our characters in the absolute fullness of their humanity. We are unconsciously limiting them to this period of time in their life.


We also run the danger of reducing them to emotional wounds and desires.


When you discover your character's PURPOSE, you discover the absolute core of their being.


They can be very aware of their purpose from the beginning of your novel, or they might be discovering it as part of the story.


I have so much more to say about this, but truly, this is not the place - I'd have to write you an e-book. Which is why this aspect of Unlock will be a whole new module in Writing Bingeable Characters. I am so so so excited to share it with you all.


In the meantime, I have an exercise for you! I'll give you my two protagonists' Character Keyings in my WIP as an example, but I highly encourage you to read Frankl's book to really get it (the first half is about his time in Auschwitz and, though you may be tempted to skip it, I hope you read it because it really helps all this make sense).

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Writing Exercise

Directions:

Daydream, do side writing, create a playlist and close your eyes....
whatever you need to do to begin working on defining your protagonist's Character Keys. It’s often easiest to do this on yourself first. Also, don't you want to do this inner work?? It will really support your writing practice and, dare I say, your life's journey as a whole.

You might figure out each step out of order. If you feel lost, check out the Unlock workbook on the subscriber portal. (Click here if you aren’t yet a subscriber.)



Here's my examples from my WIP, A Correspondence, about two war correspondents in a city under siege....trust me, I started this long before the war in Ukraine broke out, but....wow is it painful to see a book like this play out IRL.


Dasha Holitz (combat photographer)

DD: To stay alive.

Longing: To feel like she’s done enough.

MB: That she’s a coward.

Purpose: To bear witness through her presence and photography.


Ina Joss (combat reporter)

DD: To find “the story” - she believes every writer has one and that she hasn’t found it yet. The one she was born to write.

Longing: To die with her boots on, for a story that's worth the price of her life.

MB: She needs war to bring meaning to her life.

Purpose: To pay her rent for being on this earth by afflicting the comfortable.

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Figuring out this fourth key has really helped when I found myself in scenes where I felt lost as to WHY my protagonists even want what they want.


For example, there is a scene in which Dasha is considering leaving the combat zone. But she is the only photographer left during an invasion. If there was no one to bear witness, then she wouldn't be fulfilling her purpose. This creates good tension - her desperate desire is to stay alive and her misbelief is that she's a coward. But her unconscious need is to know she has done enough. So should she stay, or should she go?


When I discovered her purpose - not just her fears and desires - I knew she had to see the story through. And I was able to give the reader a believable reason, when so much of who she is and what's happening on the ground would make us wonder why the hell she doesn't leave.


Frankl says, "What matters, therefore, is not the meaning of life in general, but rather the specific meaning of a person's life at a given moment."


This is great for storytelling: because your proto will always be navigating the world wondering what the next right thing is, based on their purpose, but also the facts on the ground.


Dasha can't help anyone if she's dead. So even if she decides to stay, she might need to change her mind in order to fulfill her purpose. This decision could have a huge ripple effect on others and even on the war itself. Leaving would involve some massive personal sacrifice - but is that as big a sacrifice as her life? What can she live with? What would she rather die than ever do?


MIC DROP!!!!

Whatever your purpose is - and that of your protagonist - I wish you a creative life full of meaning and a deep sense of unshakable personal vocation.

And if you feel ready to dive deeper into Character Keys and writing bingeable characters (and chapters! and books!), you know where to find me….

With love from the trenches,

Write From The Wound, Edit From The Scar

“If my hands are fully occupied in holding on to something,
I can neither give nor receive.”

— Dorothee Sölle

I cannot recommend getting on your soapbox enough. I did that recently for an article I wrote for Publisher's Weekly on why biographies need a makeover - that was my original title, and I'm using it here, at least! It was, literally, for their “Soapbox” column. It’s been nearly two months since my biography about Virginia Hall, Code Name Badass, came out, and I had a little more I wanted to say.

I wrote it from a place of power, a sense of surety, of hard-earned wisdom on the other side of a challenging journey.

It can be so scary to put your words out there. I've gone viral before, and I recommend it about as much as I would recommend getting food poisoning while on vacation.

Having a piece that could once again be read by many people in the publishing industry was a horse I knew I had to get back on...but was a little scared to ride.

That quote at the top of this missive from Dorothee Sölle is a good reminder: If my hands are fully occupied in holding on to past experiences with writing that are painful, I can neither give to my readers, nor receive inspiration for the words I write.

There were several times when I was writing this piece that I remembered my adventures in online infamy back in fall 2019, which seems both like a million years ago and also like yesterday. I had to put my mindfulness practice to use, holding space for my fear and the inner critic while also gently guiding myself back to my words and the foundation of self-worth and grace it has taken me years to build.

When I talk about a writing practice, I mean practice. It's as much a spiritual endeavor as anything else. Practice never makes perfect; but it makes better. And that's good enough for me.

Writing From The Scar vs Writing From the Wound

While I was working on this piece, I also realized something really interesting about my writing and I wonder if any of you feel this way too:

When I teach or when I write nonfiction that will be read by anyone other than myself or my husband, I am most in balance when I write from the "scar." This is something one of my meditation mentors, Lodro Rinzler, often spoke about in our meditation teacher training.

When you teach (or write) from the scar, you've come into some wisdom about something. There's clarity, equanimity.

You're a lava rock, not the lava. Formed by whatever the event in your life was, but no longer dangerous, and wild in your mind about it.

When you write or teach from the "wound," you're writing from a place of unresolved pain.

You're angry, but not the cool anger of the Queen of Swords, of Cersei Lannister, of Rosa Parks on that bus - anger that has been skillfully wielded into the sharpest of swords. You're hurting and that is writing from a mind that is all over the place, that is dropping bombs from a drone. There might be innocent bystanders, and that might include you.

When I wrote my article that went viral two years ago, I was writing from the wound.

Honestly, it started out as a blog post I didn't think anyone would read. I wouldn't take back anything I wrote in that article: publishing has a long way to go to be transparent, respectful to the authors whose words it makes money off of. If I were Martha Beck, I'd say publishing needs a major integrity cleanse. But there were a few private conversations I wish I'd had with certain folks mentioned in the piece before it began circulating. And I wish I'd ordered the paragraphs differently, alert for the tl;dr people who tweet before reading. Ah well. Live and learn. C'est la goddamn vie, as one of my characters in Little Universes says.

When I wrote this most recent piece, I was writing from the scar.

This new piece is about publishing, too, but I could feel the difference writing it. First of all, I wrote it during the day, not the night. (Wound writing often happens at night for me - what about you?) I also had several people who looked at it before I sent it out. It was edited, since it was for Publisher's Weekly. I also just knew what I was getting into, and was able to channel my feminist anger with precision.

I'm guessing the wound piece will always have more reads, be more meaningful and helpful--it was raw and that's an energy that really grabs people. But when I write from the scar, it's harder for the patriarchy (this includes females, sadly) to dismiss me. It's the kind of anger that moves mountains--not the destruction of lava, but the slow erosion that so many of us engage in, one article, one book, one march at a time.

But here's an interesting thing I also noticed: When I'm drafting fiction or memoir, I have to write from the wound.

When I'm exploring, I have to be present for everything that's there. I have things to work out, to understand, about myself or the world, and that's a very vulnerable "wound" place to be. If I show up for it with all my bravery and with a strong, sturdy practice, then over time, an alchemical process happens:

Through my writing, the wound I'm working with becomes a scar - my words, the story, the craft of my art...it's all medicine for me. And then, when I share it (from the scar) it has an opportunity to help heal wounds in others.

For me, my best writing comes from the wound and my best writing comes from the scar.

Ergo:

Write from the wound, edit from the scar.

Part of being able to do that work is to have the capacity to receive what is being offered you, whether as a writer or a reader.

Notice, too, that the medicine you receive from your work has nothing to do with publishing, with book deals, with reviews. All the good stuff a book can give you happens before it ever hits a bookshelf. And if it never gets that far, you can trust it has already done its job for you, in you, and the world. (You heal, you show up better in the world, and that gets passed on.)

But our capacity to receive inspiration and this medicine is becoming vanishingly rare.

Many of my readers and the writers I work with are women and so I know they are all too familiar with giving far more than they receive. With, in fact, being so accustomed to that dynamic--imposed or otherwise--of giver, not receiver, that they may struggle giving themselves permission to receive. It feels wrong or selfish. And anyway, there's no time.

Then there's the modern world, how it grinds down our ability to pay attention, to receive those sweet moments of sunlight on leaves, the way laughter carries on the wind, the particular coziness of a good pair of house socks.

We lose these moments to our phones, the demands placed on us, our inboxes, those we care for. We lose them to advertising and podcast episode binges and content, content, content.

We lose them and we cannot get them back.

Here's The Good News: We can train ourselves to be more present for them from here on out. To increase our capacity to receive what our inner and outer world is trying to show us, to receive it with such particularity that we can get it on the page and give it to someone else.

Is it no surprise that my word for November 2021, for the month of American Thanksgiving, is not give but RECEIVE?

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A few things for you to RECEIVE right now:

1. The Well Gathering, free, from my heart to yours. Register here.

2. This gorgeous piece on the need for solitude from Maria Popova

3. This meditation I created last year on finding sanctuary in your writing.

4. A femme boost of the highest order in the form of my recent article for Publisher's Weekly on why biographies need a makeover.

5. My dear friend Liza from Eff This! Meditation has rebooted her long-missed newsletter - my very favorite thing that lands in my inbox each week. I always learn something, am delighted, and feel like I've gotten a warm hug. You can subscribe here.

6. My meditation mentor and another dear friend, Adreanna Limbach, has the best place going on Instagram. So if you're hit with some FOMO or comparison or rage or whatever...hop over to her space for the mindfulness haikus and stay for the reminders that you are enough, just as you are, you sweet pea of a person.

7. My buddy and pal in all things writing, Camille DeAngelis, has put up a hugely generous video series where she tells you all about what it's like to have your book become a movie starring Timothée Chalamet....and why you still matter as a writer even if that never happens to you.

8. I've been recommending this glorious book to my writer friends and will be sharing more about it at the retreat. A wonderful thing to slowly savor over the coming cold months.


With pumpkin spice love,

How To Write A Bingeable Chapter

“
The Sailor cannot see the North, but knows the Needle can.”

— Emily Dickinson in a letter to Thomas Wentworth Higginson in 1862

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This is me getting my Ren Faire on and very happy indeed. I feel like it represents that Emily Dickinson quote above - for me, at least. A sense of personal power, of inner belief that your inner compass is calibrated, so even if you can't see North...the needle can. So you just keep doing you and moving towards YES. My word this month is ALCHEMY—turning metaphorical lead (shadows, disappointments, regrets, uncertainty) into gold (mindfulness for writers, words, equilibrium, joy in creation).

One of my favorite discoveries in the writing laboratory has been my process for writing a solid chapter. Out of all the craft miseries my writers run into, it's not knowing how to craft a chapter that earns its place in the book.

Over the years, I've developed a kind of magical approach that works for me and seems to work for the writers who try it out. It's word alchemy, and I'm willing to share my special recipe with you below.

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How To Write A Chapter

If you're familiar with my Unlock Your Novel workbook (if not, it's free for my newsletter subscribers), then you'll recall me yammering on about what I call "objectives." Let's start there. ("Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start..")

Bookending Your Chapter With Objectives

in 10 Steps :

Objective, Pivot, Repeat

This is the single most helpful thing I could ever pass on to you, craft-wise.

I've never heard anyone talk about this concept in quite this way. When my writers revise their messy chapters and bookend with objectives, the chapter is SO MUCH BETTER. It might still need work, but it finally has a purpose, momentum, and it earns its place in the story. Plus, the writer isn't tearing her hair out, unsure if it's working. She knows it's working - a sailor who trusts her compass.

This isn't some kind of hoity-toity formula - it's just good common writing sense. It was me, breaking down what I was doing, what the writers I love do, and what the writers I work with do when their chapter is swinging for the fences and getting them that home run.

What is an objective?

"Objective" is a term I cribbed from the acting Method teacher, Konstantin Stanislavski. It's basically the desire a character has in a scene. So, when Romeo walks into the church with the poison in his pocket and the news that Juliet is dead is confirmed, his objective is to kill himself so he can be with her - in fact, he had that objective before he walked into the church. That way, the second he shows up on the page, he's bringing a LOT of generative energy with him. (Pro Tip: Think about what your character is doing just before the scene begins so that they can come into it with that energy).

Imagine if Shakespeare wrote that scene with Romeo not having that poison in his pocket. Imagine if he just had Romeo discover she's dead - first, we'd be like, dude why are you in a church the cops are after you and the priests in your town are shady. And then Romeo walks in and....what? Philosophizes about death? Braids Juliet's hair?

By giving Romeo a clear objective at the top of the scene (kill himself with the poison in his pocket), Shakespeare has:

1. Given Romeo something specific to do. The scene immediately has focus. Focus = energy. Energy = what John Gardner in The Art of Fiction calls "profluence" (a fancy MFA term that describes when a writer is giving the reader enough mystery to make predictions, enough uncertainty to want to see how things plays out, and enough action to look forward to, thus giving the reader the desire to turn the page and see what happens. It's a good thing. Have more of it in your work). This focus also allows us to know what the point of the scene is and track with the proto.

2. Given Romeo a ticking clock. Eventually, someone will come into the church and try and stop him. Also, he's sort of in trouble re: Tybalt. So he has to hurry. Now we have urgency. This increases pacing and adds tension and suspense. Tension + suspense = drama.

3. The thing Romeo is doing is scene-specific and emotionally resonant. It also dovetails nicely with his Character Keys. (This is something I talk about in Unlock and my on-demand Writing Bingeable Characters course. The Character Keys (to unlocking your novel) are their Desperate Desire, Longing, Misbelief, and Purpose). Scene specific means we're in the character's skin, the plot is generating from within scene, which means you are writing from within the moment. This makes the work more urgent, exciting, and present. It's highly mindful. And the reader can't put it down.

P.S. Romeo's Keyring is:

DD (Desperate Desire): To have true love.

Longing: To belong to a loving family.

MB (Misbelief): That he is nothing without this love.

Purpose: To open his heart to people, regardless of their family. (Re: Juliet, Mercutio, Tybalt)

4. The objective has given him STAKES. What is at stake is his life. Stakes are where my writers get really tripped up, but it's simply asking yourself, over and over: What is at stake if my character gets what she wants in this scene? What is at stake if she doesn't? Then, you put your stakes through the cards - that's British Secret Service speak for "vetting" them. If what's at stake doesn't matter much, then you need to revise the objective. Give them something they want in the scene that matters.

Note: What "matters" doesn't have to be life and death. Stakes would be high if Romeo really had to pee. Like, he wants this deep moment with his love and to kill himself and all, but he doesn't want to go down as the lover who pissed himself. So this scene could equally be intense if he was trying to find a bathroom in the cathedral. Is it a sin to pee in the communion cup?

5. So, you start your chapter with an objective, a clear desire for that particular scene (it may or may not be related to their Character Keys, but will still be tracking. Having to pee? Not Romeo's Desperate Desire key. But it still works). Problem is, a lot of writers stop there. They think that's enough. The character wants something and they either get it or don't. WRONG. Now you just have a character who wants something and then they winge about how hard it is to get with lots of internal moping and philosophizing and maybe they eat a sandwich. What you need are OBSTACLES to getting what they want. Remember: Tension + suspense = drama. Readers heart drama. So how do you get it? OBSTACLES.

6. Obstacles are what get your reader's heart racing like it's a Montague looking to kick some Capulet ass. A chapter without obstacles is boring AF so be sure to include them. Obstacles can be big or small. The key to them being filled with tension, suspense, conflict, and all those yummy things is that obstacles force your protagonist to pivot, strategize, and possibly change their objective. Stop being so nice to them. Make them work hard for the money!

When a character has to pivot and strategize and maybe even change their objective because of events, it gets really exciting. Let's talk R & J again.

Romeo drink the poison, he's dying, but just as he's dying JULIET WAKES UP OH HELL. Now, he's out of options, he dies (spoiler alert and if you're a writer who doesn't know that, I have concerns). But guess what? Now JULIET has to pivot! She has an obstacle.

She thought she was so smart. She went into this scene unconscious, but with a plan - fake her death, then be with her beloved. But now he's dead. What to do? She pivots. Ah! He has a "dagger." So what does she do? Yeah, we know: she dies. Great obstacles and boy did Juliet pivot.

Note: When we watch characters react, we get to see and learn a lot more about them. This is the heart of show don't tell. As we say in the theatre, "acting is reacting." We want active characters, not passive ones. Active characters take what's coming at them and it's interesting for us to see what they do.

7. These pivots create plot and story. Things move forward or back, as does your character's growth as they move toward the climax, what I call the "enlightenment," when their misbelief is overcome and they get their unconscious need (you can't always get what you want, but if you try some time, you find you get what you need). Note that a chapter always needs to move your character either forward through their arc, or back (as in, a setback). This is how a book is built, one freaking fantastic chapter after another.

8. So your character is pivoting and then you get to the end of the scene. This is where I often cry writer's tears (and then need a glass of that good Irish stuff of the same name). So many chapters I read flop at the end. They kind of just...stall. There's no profluence, nothing to read for. There's no unanswered question, no clear guidance on what to look forward to. RED FLAG! MAYDAY! But I've got you. All you need to be sure to do is to END YOUR CHAPTER WITH A NEW OBJECTIVE.

Now, your character wants something else and they will try to get it in the next chapter. Sometimes, it's even carried over and is the first objective in the next chapter, which is very efficient writing indeed.

And because you've done such a stellar job of showing us that you can deliver the goods, we're excited to see them go through the whole dance of desire all over again, so we turn the page instead of pick up our phone.

This thing they want at the end of the chapter, just like the first objective, doesn't have to be big, it just has to have a generative quality that requires some form of action in the future in order to resolve the uncertainty surrounding the objective.

Chapter ending objectives can be, but aren't limited to:

- a resolution (they come to a decision based on events in the scene)

- a reveal: we learn something big, get the next clue, find out who the killer is, etc.

- a choice (a choice was presented and they took the road less travelled and we can't wait to see how it plays out)

- a death (always good profluence): This can be literal or a breakup or the loss of something important.

The character must have a choice hanging in the air: to be or not to be, that is the question.

- a cliffhanger (not necessary, but flashy and fun sometimes)

- an unsettled-ness, an unanswered question, uncertainty of a kind that is interesting (example: a chapter ends with the parents saying, "you're grounded for a week" and the kid walks up the stairs smiling because....Mom and Dad are out of town next week. Hello, party! Now we have to read to see what happens!)

If R& J were a novel, we know that the chapter would end with Romeo drinking the poison just as Juliet wakes up. That chapter is his POV, so he'd say, "Thus with a kiss, I die" and then her eyes would open. His objective would be: DON'T DIE YOU DUMBASS. Alas. The chapter would end with Romeo gasping for breath, seeing her alive. If you stop reading there you must be a Death Eater.


See how this plays out in the next chapter:

Romeo's objective to stay alive (the bookend that ends the chapter, where his initial objective had been to die....nice twist, that) leads us into the next chapter - will he live? Will Juliet somehow magically have an antidote? Hell no. That apothecary wouldn't have given her a freebie. His poverty - but not his will - consented to this crazy plan.

The objective leaves things uncertain, and so...we turn the page.

The next chapter is in Juliet's POV. Think of this dual-POV as a relay race. Romeo's objective (don't die!), is the baton he hands off to Juliet. Her objective is - wake his ass up! He can't be dead. We are star-crossed!!! She runs with it, but not far: he dies.

So the objective that is bookended with this scene is Juliet being awake and having to immediately pivot from happy aliveness to keeping her man from dying. Her objective when she went to sleep was to surprise Romeo in Mantua and live in a trailer park, happily ever after. But now that objective is gone, then her next one (keep him alive) disappears too - he's dead. She needs to pivot again. She needs a new objective.

So you get Claire Danes ugly crying and looking around and all those candles and Leo looking so hot, and then she sees the dagger. Pivot. Strategize. This is interesting, right? What would you do? The clock is ticking.

If her parents know she's alive, they'll totally make her marry Paris and who cares if he is Paul Rudd, he's not Leo. She sees the dagger (gun). Pivot. Strategize. Romeo is dead. He died for me. His gun worked on Tybalt, so...In for a penny, in for a pound.

Objective at the end of the scene: Juliet decides to kill herself. And then she does.

9. Notice how you kept reading R& J after the death scene. Why? Your characters are dead. Why bother? PROFLUENCE, that's why. (Remember, that's the desire to keep reading.) We hope there is a mistake, we have to see someone actually confirm it. And when we get to the end, and everyone is mourning (for never was a story of more woe, than this of Juliet and her Romeo) we are like AW HELL NO.

Shakespeare got us to keep reading after they died because he knew we'd want to know if it was really true, and we want to see the community react. We want to see what this means for Montagues and Capulets. Juliet's choice to die in this relay race hands the baton over to the Prince and co., who now have to clean up this mess and make sense of it all.

Objective for them: Figure out what the fuck happened.

And so the whole play ends on a massive objective: the community, understanding it was their fault these kids are dead, strategizes and pivots away from their turf war and decide things have to change. New Objective: to have peace between the warring families. We don't know if this will work. I mean, they're Italian. Let's be real. The Montague and Capulet boys only know how to look hot while waving about swords. So this loose end keeps the profluence rolling along. The curtain goes down and yet the show must go on: we still get to imagine all the ways things might play out in Verona. I'm thinking some Nurse / Apothecary fanfic? Balthazar and Paris?

10. I gave you an example of the end of a play, but imagine we were doing the balcony scene instead and there were more chapters to come. Objectives are the gift that keep on giving because they set you up for the next scene, the next chapter, and you can write the whole damn book objective by objective. (And this way, you don't have to go around looking for birds to write it bird by bird).

What happens? Juliet goes back up to the balcony after a pool party of two. Romeo is like, ummmmmm....

R: "Wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?

J: "What satisfaction cans't thou have tonight?"

R: "The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine."

J: "I gave thee mine before thou dids't request it!"

Look at all this profluence. Yo, they got ENGAGED. New objective: find a way to get sneaky married.

Old Will has set himself up for the next scene - this thing writes itself! All Shakespeare has to do is just keep passing the Baton of Objectives (which is obviously made of Valerian steel) from the beginning of a scene (that's "chapter" to you novelists) to the end of the next chapter to the beginning of the next one and so on, until we get to that fateful moment in the church when they get married and then again when they die (in your book, that would be the climax of the novel).

Below, happier times in said church.

And there you have it!

Try working in this way for yourself and see what happens. And if you dug this, then you're really going to have a blast in my Writing Bingeable Characters course.

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Whatever obstacles are coming YOUR way, I hope you get lots of opportunities to alchemize your lead into gold.

Fly, my pretties, fly !

How To Read Like A Writer

The best writers are readers first

If you’re a writer who doesn’t read, please do yourself (and your readers) a favor and step away from your laptop until you’re willing to put in the work.

While you’re at it, ask yourself why you want to be a writer in the first place, if you yourself have no interest in picking up a book. I guarantee that if you’re not reading, then the writing isn’t good, and the world certainly doesn’t need any more bad writing. If you are reading, but not reading like a writer, you’re missing out on the scribe’s secret weapon in the fight against bad writing.

The trick is, once you’ve stepped into the role of Writer, your relationship to the books you read must change. When you were only a reader, you could gobble down whatever was in your hands, gorging on story, lost in the worlds and words other writers were creating. Sure, you may have underlined your favorite bits or dog-eared a chapter or two, but that was only because you loved them, not for any scientific or academic purpose. When you got to a part of the book you didn’t like, you either gave up on the book entirely or pushed through, waiting for the dopamine hit of the next love scene, the next sparkling insight, the slam bang climax. When you were finished, you set that book aside and picked up the next one. That was then, Writer: this is now.

If you want to improve your writing, then you can’t treat your reading like a Netflix binge.

In order to grow in your craft — and to continue that growth well into your publishing days — you must read like a writer who’s been asked to beta read this book in manuscript form. My students are loathe to do this: they’re afraid of “ruining” reading. They don’t want the novels they pick up to be assignments. They don’t want to lose the magic. While I understand that fear, it’s unfounded. Sure, writers you were eager to read before you looked at their work more critically might lose their shine. Then again, once you start paying attention to the mechanics of story and craft, your pleasure in the books that are well-executed more than makes up for the disappointments.

Reaping The Rewards

The dividends you’ll receive from becoming your own writing teacher — for that’s what you are when you’re reading like a writer — are enormous. While I still advocate for writers to get in some kind of classroom or work one-on-one with a mentor, as well as have a writer’s group, that will only take you so far: Reading like a writer allows you to become self-sufficient, figuring out for yourself how to improve in the areas you struggle in by breaking down how the masters do it — and honing the ability to articulate why bad writing is bad so you can avoid those mistakes yourself. Think about it: you probably learned story structure and the cadence of your chosen genres by reading. Why not take that practice to its logical conclusion?

How To Read Like A Writer

Read Widely

Dive into all genres, not just the one you write in. Read good books, bad books (sometimes you learn even more from these), new books, old books. Read poetry and graphic novels and picture books. Be omnivorous. This exposes you to new forms and styles.

Read Mindfully

You’re reading on many levels when you read like a writer, and this can take some getting used to.

In a way, all books are like a palimpsest.

There are layers upon layers beneath the words on the page: the writer’s craft and story know-how, the way they’re interacting with all literature that came before it, what was happening in society when the book was published, the writer’s socioeconomic background. I often say that all fantasy, for example, is in conversation with Tolkien and Homer. Just as all dystopian work is adding to a discussion Orwell, Huxley, and, later, Atwood are continually having.

Regardless of what genre you’re reading, you’ll be, first and foremost, looking at craft and story: language (word choice, voice, use of metaphor), story, plot, character, structure, pacing, dialogue, POV etc. This can be overwhelming at first, so my recommendation is to customize what you’re looking for, based on what you yourself struggle with as a writer.

Read for the things you need to learn more about

Are you terrible at action scenes? Then pay special attention to the execution of action in the books you’re reading (and choose books that will feature them a lot). Do you struggle with telling and not showing? Focus entirely on the ways the author you’re reading successfully — or unsuccessfully — accomplishes this.

Your Reading Checklist

This is by no means a comprehensive list, but it’s a start. You want to pay attention to what’s working and what isn’t working. It’s useful to take notes as you read or you can just flag or underline the following as you go (and anything else you’re specifically reading for). Save analyzing the work until after you’ve finished it.

Things To Note When You’re Reading

• When you really like something

• When you have a niggling feeling — something feels off, but you might not know why yet

• When you’re taken out of story (John Gardner calls this “breaking the fictive dream”)

• Confusion

• Boredom

• Increased blood pressure or other physical signs of excitement or emotion

• Questions

• Prose that stops you in your tracks in a good or bad way

• Clunky writing

• Pacing

• Places where you have to re-read for clarity

• Dialogue that feels stiff

• Moments when you can’t suspend your disbelief

• Cliches

• Missed Moments — places where the writer didn’t go deep enough in a scene and so leaves the reader unsatisfied

• Craft elements that work or don’t work

The Annotated Bibliography : Giving Yourself An MFA

The final step in reading like a writer is culling all your observations after the last line and piecing them together in an intentional way.

It’s not enough to just think about your observations in passing as you read — you’re far less likely to have solid and actionable takeaways for your own work if you don’t get intentional about this last step.

When I was getting my MFA, students were required to write an annotated bibliography for every book we read. A page or so of literary analysis.

Hands down, this was the most valuable takeaway from my program because it set me up to be my own teacher for life.

The bibliography ensured I could articulate what was and wasn’t working in the books I read and, by extension, my own work. We couldn’t just say something was good or terrible or interesting. We had to show WHY. In doing so, the takeaways stuck and my own work improved.

In analyzing all elements of craft and story in a book, we were able to begin noticing how writers did what they did and then try to do those same things (or avoid them) ourselves. It helped us recognize the difference between what was simply subjective (you might know something is well done, but it’s just not for you) and what is a craft failure. Take note of your own personal reader guilty pleasures — if you adore love triangles, own it: but be able to demonstrate why one you read was well executed…or not. Go through the above checklist and figure out what that niggling feeling was about — aha! It was a pacing issue that took you out of the story! Look at how all the elements work together to form the whole.

When you read like a writer, you unlock the mysteries of good story for yourself — and your future readers.