Chapter Endings and Jokes that don't Land

I recently read a blog post from BookFox, in which they categorized twelve different kinds of chapter endings.  They gave an example of such a chapter ending for each of their categories, which was illuminating.  It's worth reading, and I'm not going to repeat what they said.  Instead, I'm going to talk about what I got from it. 

Namely, however you end a chapter should have some pull to draw the reader further into the story.  A cliff hanger is the obvious one, but there was also ending in a question or a mystery or having someone enter the scene who you know will carry forward the action in the next chapter. 

On the other hand, the end can be a breath, or a moment of pause, and that's fine as long as the rest of the chapter sets up action pushing the reader forward.  Let's say something very exciting happened in the chapter, but then the chapter ends with a description or a character moment or reminds you of the main themes.  It's fine to take that pause because the reader is propelled through it and into the next chapter.  I found that to be a relief, because I find it exhausting to ready when every chapter ends on a cliffhanger, and even more exhausting to repeatedly write cliffhangers.  I'm reminded of feeling manipulated while reading The Divinci Code.  I'm reminded of getting bored reading weekly Shōnen manga, that attempt to have to have a cliffhanger or a reveal at the end of every issue.  The issues are so short that there are hundreds of reveals and therefore they all blur together until none of them are important.

But the main take away I got from this blog post was that I could go through the chapter endings in my novel and identify what I was trying to do in each one.  It gave me a vocabulary.  And with that vocabulary, I was able to pin-point what was going wrong with the endings that felt weak.

There are four chapter endings that I'm unsatisfied with.  In all four of them, I try to end on a joke that doesn't land.

Keep in mind, a lot of my jokes do land, and make for great chapter endings.  As pointed out in the chapter ending blog post, a good joke can elicit an emotional response that will connect your reader to the work so that they carry on reading.  Jokes can also be surprising, which can draw a reader along.  There are several good jokes in this novel (as far as I'm concerned).  And the ones that weren't working are good jokes that I hadn't set up to be "chapter ending jokes."  They aren't set up so they end in a cymbal sting.  They're set up like jokes thrown in during a longer dialogue.  I need to recenter the conversation leading up to them so that the conversation actually leads up to them.

If you have chapters, I encourage you to try this exercise, because it's a good one.

Characterization through a Lens

Spring Fling, a conference for the Chicago North Romance Writers of America, was the other weekend.  I didn't know about it, but a friend of mine attended virtually and had nothing but rave reviews about it.  Since it was virtual, participants got to see every presentation and panel, instead of having to chose to fit a schedule.  That sounds very very cool. 

"I'm so smart now," she told my critique group.  "I learned about tension and character arcs and--Oh!  There was this thing!" She dug into her copious notes, which shows better than anything what a great time she had.  "Okay," she explained, "so you can assign every character a movement."

There's a theory from anatomy and kinesiology called Laban Movement, created by a dance choreographer.  He said that any human movement has four parts: Direction, Weight, Speed, and Flow.  Each of these can is on a polarity: Direction is either direct or indirect, weight is either heavy or light, speed is either quick or sustained, and flow is either bound or free.  Or, as Wikipedia explains it: Both punching someone in anger or reaching for a glass are done by extending the arm.   But the strength of the movement, the control of the movement and the timing of the movement are different.  So basically, there end up being eight broad categories of movement:  Float, Punch, Glide, Slash, Dab, Wring, Flick, and Press.

Now you can assign each character a characteristic motion.  This character who is direct is a Punch Guy.  This anxious dude is a Wring Guy.  Then if you write your character through this lens, their physical stances and their motions will set them apart from one anther.  This will also trickle into their dialogue, because a Flick Person and a Float Person will speak differently.  Then it will affect their thoughts and motivations.  Looking at your characters through this lens will color every aspect of their characterization.

I think this is a helpful thing to think about.  Not because I believe there are eight type of people.  That rings of explaining everything you do through the lens of your astrological sign or your Myers-Briggs type, which I generally find reductive.  But I think this could be helpful because 1. it is descriptive enough to be an easy visualization to keep your characters from all sounding and acting the same.  And 2. if you keep referring back to this lens, it can keep your characters on target and in character.

A while back, a friend of mine was trying to explain a theory that I now see is remarkably similar: every character is a color and the three primary colors (red, yellow, and blue) are aspects of a character that I have now forgotten.  I think red was active and blue was thoughtful, so a red person acted before they thought and a blue person thought very hard but never acted and a purple person would both think and act.  My friend then proceeded to tell me that the main character of my story was red, and I got a bit miffed, decided this framework was unhelpful, and didn't think of it again until now.

But now, I'm working on revisions for a novel, and I'm reading through and constantly asking myself "What does this scene have to do with this central theme?  How can I bring the theme out in this section?  How can I tie it all back together?"  It's kind of like I'm looking at my whole novel through a lens and making sure everything lines up and stays on target.  And suddenly these methods of forming a character through a lens make more sense to me.

It doesn't matter what lens you look through: movement types; elements like water, air, fire, and earth; or even zodiac sign.  Simply having a lens, even if you only use it during one round of revision and not through the entire writing process, can be useful.  Just coming back to one central visualization, one solid idea throughout a story can pull things tighter and cut out extraneous bits that wander away from the point you're trying to make or the idea you're trying to express.