In The Music Man, things really get going when Robert Preston sings "You got trouble in River City." Of course, most of the trouble in River City that develops is for his character, saleshuckster Harold Hill.
The reason I'm bringing this up is that I've just finished the first pass of an edit of a romance novel. The first-person narrative features a lively, fun voice. It's chock full of interesting events and places and humor. There's love… sex… sorrow… betrayal… There's all of that, but it's missing one key ingredient: trouble.
Actually, there is trouble now and then for the highly likeable protagonist, but the kind of trouble I'm looking for in a story is trouble that does a few things:
- Prevents the protagonist from getting something she wants. Badly wants.
- Seems difficult, if not impossible, for the protagonist to overcome.
- Causes the protagonist to take action do deal with it.
In the novel I'm editing, and in other novice fiction I've dealt with, the character is reactive, not proactive. An event happens, she sort of bounces off and keeps moving (or meandering) without dealing with it directly, without taking action. More than that, her troubles are resolved by the actions of others in the character's life, not by her.
In this novel, the protagonist has a sex-only lover that she doesn't like, but she can't give up her addiction to the great sex. Does she do anything about it? Nope, just goes along until he drops her for another woman. For no reason. What does our gal do?
Not much. Just keeps going to work, now sexless. No big regrets, no big loss. Then she meets a nice, charming, gentle hunk of a guy who is immediately attracted to her. But she's decided that nice and great sex never come in the same package and ignores him. He pursues her and, partly because of the urging of her best girlfriend and roomie, finally hooks up with him. No sweat.
Later, after the obligatory break-up after the obligatory misunderstanding, she gets him back. But only because he makes the effort. She just has to wait for him to show up. No pain, no strain.
Unless the author can do something about the lack of trouble for her protagonist, for this reader the novel, as pleasant as it is, will never reach the compelling level it needs to succeed with an agent or a publisher. There's just no pain. Throughout the story you're never worried about this character. She never initiates action that could put her at risk, and the actions of others resolve what risk there is.
In a way, this post is directed to that writer (and I will be saying these things in my critique of the manuscript). Somewhere in your novel you've got to start the reader worrying about the protagonist. Will she be hurt? Will she suffer? Will he survive the attack? Will he able to dance after both legs are blown off? Will she fail after all? Momentarily, the reader has to have the feeling that the protagonist is not going to be able to handle things, can't see any way the character will be able to get out of her trouble in River City. And then the character has to DO something.
It's that anticipated pain, that "oh, no, it seems impossible" that creates the tension that makes a story compelling. Danger ahead. Trouble behind.
And then there's success. If a character succeeds in a story, it needs to be because she has overcome great obstacles at the cost of character-changing effort. Unfortunately, I'm going to have to tell my client that her novel falls short in this respect, too.
- She ends up with a successful love…but only because the guy makes all the effort.
- She ends up with a successful career…but only because luck brings others to her with opportunities.
This character never has to risk anything to get her heart's desire. Where's the story in that? Her life could, indeed, reflect the way a real life goes. Stuff happens, you react, you go with the flow, things can turn out well, they might not in the great pinball machine of real life. But a story…a story has to show us how human beings can deal with adversity. I recently saw an interview with the playwright Edward Albee, and he said something that he felt art's purpose was to hold up a mirror and show us as we are. And that, if we didn't like what we saw, to change it. He didn't say, but I will, if we like what we see, change ourselves to be that way, too.
But he is talking about a mirror that reflects people in action. Characters doing things, both profound and foolish. Characters failing, and characters succeeding… because they strived.
You know the cliché
What a dull read a novel is without rocks a-flying and trouble a-coming. Stir up trouble in River City. It may not make your character happy, but we're gonna love it.
I think my client has what it takes to make the changes, but it's going to take work and creativity. And a deeper understanding of the nature of storytelling.
I know you know all of this, so consider it a reminder. I know I need it.
For what it's worth.
RR
Free edit in exchange for posting permission. You send a sample that you have questions about and of which you'd like an edit. I won't post it without your permission.
Donations: visitors have asked for a way to compensate me for my advice. It all helps. Click here.
© 2005 Ray Rhamey
Comments