Holding on to your readers

About 7 weeks ago I launched a story blog (Death Sucks: On being a vampire kitty-cat). I thought it would be interesting, and some fun. Turns out it's far more than that -- it's a crucible that's forcing me to learn more about how I need to approach the storytelling art.

My aim has been to put up a new segment every week. Each segment averages about 1,000 words. That may not sound like a lot to you, but that's on top of the day job, and on top of this blog (another 1,000 words a pop), and on top of writing the novel in progress, and on top of editing a client's manuscript, and on top of doing sample edits for interested writers. . .you get the picture. More than that, it's in front of a world-wide audience, and it has to be good. It's different from a rough draft that can sit on the desk awaiting a rewrite.

Here's what's so different about this from all my other writing: I feel the audience out there. Actual people are coming to the site for the next episode in the story. Leaving comments. They're there. Really there.

For the first time in all of my writing career, I have a sense of readers' presence at a story. It's as though I'm a storyteller of old, sitting around the fire in front of the cave, spinning a yarn. Listeners surround me in a circle. In the dark, I can't see their eyes or their expressions, but I know their eyes are on me.

I've found that I want -- no, need -- to keep those eyes focused on my story. I don't want anybody to stand up and walk away. And that awareness of their presence -- and the possibility of their walking away -- is affecting how I tell the story.

Unlike a book where there are pages to turn so easily and immediately, or unlike the storyteller's fire where it's happening realtime and there's not much else to do anyway, my story has to somehow be interesting enough to bring readers back after a week has gone by.

Suddenly I'm much more aware of the tension that I have to be creating on every "page" of this story. If each episode is 1,000 words, that's 4 pages of manuscript. I feel the need to end each episode with an irresistible story question hanging in the ether. There's no waiting for a cliffhanger at a chapter's end, the tension has to keep coming.

While writing this week's episode, my sense of those readers gazing at me told me that things were flagging. The previous scene had been somewhat expository, although there was interest deriving from discovering the oddly mundane world of the American Vampire Association -- bottled blood in vending machines, for example -- and tension coming from the main character's need to deal with a terrible pain that he knew was on the way.

I was about to transport my characters from the AVA's break room to an orientation lecture. I had written the following:

Meg bent and scooped me up. "Let's go, Patch."

The characters would then go down the hall to a classroom.

Ho hum, came a mental yawn. And I sensed yawns forming in those readers wanting to be energized by stuff happening that would entertain them, that would make the trip worth a week's wait.

So I thought, I need to inject some conflict. And then I thought, isn't that terribly mechanical? I mean, a story is supposed to grow out of character, isn't it? To arbitrarily decide "insert conflict here" seemed formulaic, like there was some kind of rule to follow.

On the other hand, I'm working on being a storyteller. And that means my story must keep minds riveted to the words and wanting more. Not all story questions have to come from conflict, of course. In the previous episode the main character, Patch the vampire kitty-cat, was about to experience the awful "vampire pain" that comes when a vampire needs fresh blood. There was suspense involved with the story question of how he'd meet that need in the middle of an office building where there were no living creatures to suck blood from.

But now. . .the professional side of me said we need a little conflict here, like a hand striking the top of a rolling hoop to keep it going. But the artist side of me said it needed to come out of character. And the readers wanted action, I was sure of it.

So many masters to please. So the professional side looked at what ore there was to mine. The primary vein is the main character, a cat. And the story is told from his point of view -- that of a cat. So, my storyteller side asked, how might a cat react to being picked up to be carried somewhere?

Sure, he might just go along with it, but where's the tension in that? No, I realized, cats have a powerful sense of protocol. Being Nature's royalty as they are, they expect certain courtesies from people. So the scene turned this way:

Meg bent and scooped me up. "Let's go, Patch."

I took a breath, arched my back, and gave her a major hiss. She dropped me like I was a bomb with a lit fuse. I wasn't really angry, but proper cat protocol is to ask. We're not furry baggage you can just haul around. Humph.

She said, "What's wrong?"

I glared up at her and shook my head. Actually, the orientation thing had sounded like a good idea to me, but manners are important. I walked to the doorway, then looked back at her. Would she get the message?

Meg squatted beside me. "I'd really like for us to stick together, Patch. Come with me?" She stretched a hand out to me, but made no move to grab anything feline.

I love an intelligent associate. I took in a little more air, said, "Mrrr," and then pushed my nose against her hand. I made no protest when she took me in her hands and stood, cradling me carefully. I believe associates learn faster when you reward their efforts, so I provided a soft little purr. She gave me a scratch behind the ears and we went into a large room set up like a classroom.

Now, this isn't huge conflict. Not life-threatening. But I think it was fun. And I think true to the "catness" I'm striving to create that gives my readers a fresh view of the world. It also served to advance the characterization of Patch and Meg, to expand their new relationship, and to provide the basis for future action. Now that I've established the concept of cat protocol, it may come in handy in the future. And I'll need every story and character tool I can conceive because, as I've told you, I'm bootstrapping this story, one post at a time, no outline.

My point? I'm not saying that you ought to start a story blog, but I am saying that if you approached your storytelling as if you were writing one you might have a new sense of urgency about creating a sense of urgency in your readers. You might be more aware of them, passively waiting in the glow of computer monitors, rooting for you, yes, but also demanding something of you.

Story.

Compelling story.

I'm not claiming to have achieved it here, although I do think I came up with a fair cliffhanger on the latest episode. Patch narrates about what's to come:

If I'd had breath, I'd have held it.

I'm hoping that, figuratively speaking, those readers out there will feel the need to come back next week to inhale more of my story.

I'll see, won't I?

Best,

Ray

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.

© 2005 Ray Rhamey

Comments

[Bernita]

Speaking of that "major hiss", would Puss Patch have given a major Yowl when grabbed previously in the shop by What's-His-Fang?

[Rafresh]

Your approach reminds me of Scheherazade's in Arabian Nights - she was storytelling for her life, so every sentence, every nuance, every plot twist mattered. No laziness or slack. A little pressure can be so motivating.

I've just found your blog and, as an aspiring novelist, I LOVE it. Your instincts are right on the money and well articulated. And you're right - the better halves just don't get it. It makes this lonely business so much less so to commiserate with other writers out there!

[dee]

Great concept. I've received newsfeeds about Harlequin having serialized novels available for cell phones. Do you plan on doing the same thing with Death Sucks?

Also I would love to mention what you're doing on my blog, since this month I'm hosting a writing project to help authors revise their novels.