You, p.1
You, page 1
ALSO BY RUTA SEPETYS
Between Shades of Gray
Out of the Easy
Salt to the Sea
The Fountains of Silence
I Must Betray You
VIKING
An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, New York
First published in the United States of America by Viking,
an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC, 2023
Copyright © 2023 by Ruta Sepetys
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Ebook ISBN 9780593524398
Cover art © 2023 by Malena Valcarcel
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Design by Lucia Baez, adapted for ebook by Andrew Wheatley
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For Michael
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
PLOT
CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT
VOICE
PERSPECTIVE
SETTING
DIALOGUE
RESEARCH
REVISION & INPUT
COURAGE
CONCLUSION
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INTRODUCTION
LIFE IS STORY IN MOTION.
Each day, you add to your story, revise it, and view it from a different angle. You erase things. Tear pages out. And sometimes, in hindsight, wish you could put them back.
A day is a story. A year is a story. A life is a story.
You are a story.
Whether you’re writing fiction or nonfiction, the secret to strong writing is embedded within your own experience.
And your experience is rarely a one-person show. Hovering backstage are additional characters—family and friends—wedging in for a close-up. They create branches that lengthen and tangle your story. They add layers. If someone tells you that their family dynamics are perfect, I suggest you run. Because if their family is perfect, they’re either incredibly boring or they’re ashamed of Uncle Ron’s sojourn in the nudist colony. And let’s be honest, anyone who tears out the pages about Uncle Ron is boring.
The excitement of life dwells within the waves:
Heartbreak. Hope. Hilarity. Humiliation.
The H’s are essential instruments in a writer’s tool kit. We all have them. Your life journey has winding plots, unique settings, voice, and many characters. If you infuse those elements into your writing, it will feel authentic.
Because it is.
Prior to becoming a novelist, I spent more than twenty years in the music business. Working with songwriters, film composers, rock bands, and musicians was an education, to say the least. I had a bail bondsman on speed dial. But I also had something else—a front row seat to creativity.
And I noticed something. When the creators put a piece of themselves into their work, it was much more likely to become successful. The smallest kernel of emotional truth carried some sort of magical resonance. Suddenly, the song was relatable and affecting to the point that others claimed it as their own anthem. It struck a note both musical and personal. Listeners sang it in the car and thrust lighters in the air at concerts, saluting. It earned a spot on the soundtrack of their life. The elements were real and, as a result, had real impact.
Similarly, the road map for writing a book is embedded in your past experiences. Our failures, heartbreaks, and bad decisions are fabulous fodder for writing. The romantic interlude with the Amish guy, the escape from a D-lister’s house in the Holly-wood Hills, the job interview with the price tag hanging from the armpit of my suit—I would never tear those pages out of my story, and neither should you. They’re color in a world too often steeped in gray.
Strong writing is rooted in emotion and imagination. The best writing inspires a vivid depth of feeling. Depth of feeling transports and transforms. It makes characters relatable and scenes unforgettable. Some writers believe they must create from nothing. But often, creating from nothing results in a feeling of the same. Nothing.
Over the course of this book, I’ll share several components of story. I’ll use examples from my own life and encourage you to contemplate yours. The concepts and presentation are intentionally basic, simple prompts to stir reflection and ideas. Since my experience is as a novelist, much of the content pertains to fiction writing. As the chapters progress, you may notice a layered effect, with themes from previous sections being incorporated through storytelling examples, essays, and assorted structure forms. And because I’m a writer who is passionate about history, I’ll include some historical details for you to uncover and discover.
There are many methods of storytelling. To craft something memorable, I find it helpful to cross-examine my own memories and emotions and infuse those reflective elements into the building blocks of my story.
Of course, be gentle with yourself and use your own best judgment in deciding which memories to return to. But if you feel able, put a piece of yourself into the project. When you do, you’ll pull the reader to the page and share something resonant and meaningful that will keep them there:
Heart.
PLOT
Plot Questions
WHY ARE SOME STORIES SO ENGAGING? Compelling plots invite the reader into an interesting setting, a burning secret, or a problem that must be solved. The crucial element of plotting is that the character has to want something. And the reader must know and understand that want.
As you think about your story, mull over these ten essential questions. Not all genres contain the following elements, but if you can answer these questions, you’ll have a deeper understanding of your story.
INCITING INCIDENT
What event sets the plot into motion?
THE PRIZE
What does your main character want?
THE STRATEGY
What does your character decide to do in order to get what they want?
THE CONFLICT
Who are some of the people working against your character?
THE STAKES
What will be the consequence if the plan does not work?
THE BLEAKEST MOMENT
What happens to make things look hopeless?
THE LESSON
What does your character learn about themselves, others, or life?
THE DECISION
What does your character do because of what they’ve learned?
THE HOLE
In what way does your character need to grow emotionally?
THE BACKSTORY
What is haunting your character as the story begins?
Over the course of life, we all move through a series of plots. Can you remember the inciting incidents, the strategies, the conflicts, and your bleakest moments? Take a minute to jot down a few bullet points. Or better yet, return to the place where you originally wrote them down. A diary, perhaps?
Personal Archives
WHEN DID THE DIARY DIE? WAS it suffocated with a pillow when I wasn’t looking? A friend informed me that the journal has replaced the diary. Impossible! I have journals. They’re mature. They’re also whiny and boring. A diary is for confiding your most embarrassing secrets or your most profound fears. A diary is where you’ll find the good stuff.
DI·A·RY (noun): a confidential record of events in somebody’s life, often including personal thoughts and observations
JOUR·NAL (noun): somebody’s written record of plans and postulates
I completely fabricated those definitions to support my point. To me, a diary and a journal just aren’t the same. In a journal, you blather about the Camino de Santiago trek you’ll take when the spirit moves you. In a diary, you confess you had a dream where you accidentally made out with your neighbor. In a journal, we write about what could be, or would be. In a diary, we write about what is. We stick to the facts. For example:
My brother drowned my Barbie. I snuck into his room and farted.
That’s an entry from my old diary, about sibling revenge via gastrointestinal warfare. I find it uncomfortably revealing and I’m so glad I have it. Who was I back then? Can I apply or answer any of the ten plot questions?
The type of diaries I’m referring to had locks and miniature metal keys. I strategically glued a magnet beneath my bookshelf so my diary key would cling, completely out of sight. I was quite proud of that strategy. It never occurred to me that Mama Phyllis would pop the lock with a paper clip and read every last word. (Ciggy ashes between the pages gave her away.)
But diaries aren’t just for children. While researching my books, I’ve read diaries of FBI agents, soldiers, and secret police that hold nothing back. Nothing. They’re haunting and confessional. The conflict and stakes of the plot are instantly identifiable.
If your character kept a childhood diary, what would be in it? Would they have scribbled in the margins or crossed things out? Would they have written in code or would they feel safe to spill it all?
And what about you? If you could read anyone’s diary, whose would you read and why?
What would you hope to find and how might it affect the plot?
When I find letters or diaries at estate sales, I snap them up immediately. I once discovered a bundle of old letters in a secondhand shop. The little sack of envelopes and postcards (all dating 1905–1910) was priced at only $1.50. They were gold.
Stanley, you must come at once. Meet me behind the post office at 7:00 p.m. on Tuesday.
Tell no one! —Catherine
It was signed and dated 1908.
Plot galore.
Why did Catherine summon Stanley to the post office? Why was it such a secret? What did Catherine want? Who was Stanley? Was he a cousin? School friend? Lover? M u r d e r e r?
I was hooked. Instant characters, plot, and stakes. And because I’m a research fanatic, I spent two years investigating until I finally uncovered the full story about Stanley and Catherine.
It was better than I ever could have imagined and inspired countless questions.
To build a strong plot, it helps to ask strong questions—questions that set a scene or encourage a detailed, creative response.
BORING QUESTION FOR STANLEY:
Describe something that once happened at your job.
ENGAGING QUESTION FOR STANLEY:
Thinking back, did you ever take something home from work or school that you weren’t supposed to?
The engaging question sets a scene and begins to build a plot. Suddenly, we envision Stanley throwing a glance over his shoulder as he pinches a box of pens from the supply closet or stuffs paperwork down his pants.
Strong plots are often inspired by real-life events. And real life is full of engaging questions. The reality of life is so ludicrous, most will never believe it. It will feel fictional. Don’t use names or exact details. You don’t need to. Be creative. Don’t write to condemn or call out. Instead, use the emotional stakes and quirks from actual situations to frame your questions and create your own composite plots.
As you think back on real-life scenarios, ask yourself: What did the person want? What were they willing to risk in order to get what they wanted? What was the hidden secret or the clue in the diary?
But what if no diary exists, you ask?
Perhaps it’s not a book or digital device with daily thoughts, but you do have a diary. Old calendars, correspondence, and let’s not forget old bill files. Financial records and receipts are dated. They often detail what you purchased, where, and even the time of day. Receipts contain the who, what, where, and when. Look at an old receipt, ask questions, and try to craft a new plot.
Why would someone buy a thousand Ping-Pong balls in Phoenix on March 12, 1999?
My accountant asked the same question. He felt a plot emerging. Or maybe an audit.
Of course, photos contain plot, but proceed with caution. Family photos often have a preexisting narrative attached to them. And sometimes that narrative can be photo fiction:
That’s our son, Mark, at four. Our babysitter took him to the mall to meet Santa. When it was his turn, Mark was so excited that he cried!
Reach out to neighbors, friends, or relatives. Send them a few questions and note their recollections. Perhaps they have their own photos from the time period. Their photos and memories will present different angles of a story, plots that you’ve never heard:
Remember Mark’s wicked babysitter, Becky? She hauled him to the mall under the guise of meeting Santa, but she really just wanted to see Sergio, who worked at Foot Locker. Mark was tired and complained. Becky pinched him so hard that he was still crying when he sat on Santa’s lap.
Same photo. Totally different plot.
And if photos, calendars, and receipts aren’t enough, you have thousands of emails and texts that capture your opinions, your mind, your heart, and your daily doings of a time period. Revisit correspondence from years past. What were you discussing—and with whom? Did you ever have a secret or incognito email address? A PO box? If so, what was it for? What was the inciting incident? What was the prize? The bleakest moment? Visiting old material presents new perspectives and inspires fresh plots. Look at old photos or choose a photo on your phone. Invent an entirely new story around the image.
It’s never too late to archive your own details. Document your secret self for someone to discover in the future. Whether you use a snug book with a lock, a digital device with a password, or a message in a bottle, do it! Remain anonymous if you must, or create a pseudonym for fun. Plant clues. Imagine the mystery of finding a diary in the rafters of an attic, or better yet, the glove box of a car in a junkyard. Leave a trail for someone to discover and uncover.
Your story has value—and plot. As actress Mae West said in the film Every Day's a Holiday, “Keep a diary, and some day, it’ll keep you.”
Curiosity
INTERESTING PLOTS ARE POPULATED WITH INTERESTING people. Perhaps you were raised among unique folk or have met some along the way. Have they influenced your writing?
LIST FIVE PEOPLE who have made a positive impact on your life.
LIST FIVE PEOPLE who have made a negative impact on your life.
Positive and negative. Both are equally important because they drove your decisions and influenced the plot that is your life.
I’m the daughter of a Lithuanian father and a German American mother. Both struggled through hunger, hardship, and humiliation. More H’s.
My father was born in Lithuania and fled during World War II with his parents. He spent nine years in refugee camps before boarding a ship to New York. Upon arrival, his parents spoke no English and scrubbed toilets on Wall Street. After a year in Brooklyn, my grandfather was offered a job with Ford Motor Company. The family left New York and settled in Detroit.
My mother, the youngest of eleven children, grew up in the inner city of Detroit. Her father was born in Germany, immigrated to the US, and worked as a laborer in Ford’s auto foundry. He died at fifty-eight, before my mother’s second birthday, plunging the family into poverty. My mother had a painfully difficult childhood and left school at fifteen in order to work and care for her ailing mother.
Despite their hardships, my parents became elegant, successful people—and successful parents. And I’m convinced it’s because they were not only brave but also curious, and they passed that sense of wonder and adventure on to their kids. Mom loved books, music, and theater. Dad was a lifelong artist and soccer player who loved to travel. Because they had lost everything as children, they pursued life with a boundless sense of wonder and appreciation.
Their hardship had meaning and produced three spunky, venturesome kids. They had no impressive pedigrees, but somehow our parents matriculated and circulated amid an incredibly diverse group of people from the corporate world, to the creative world, to the underworld. And that was interesting.
I remember looking at an ornate sterling tea service that we never used. The card was still inside the sugar bowl. For a Trim Little Philly from an Ole War Horse.
“Where did this come from?” I asked.
“Jimmy Hoffa,” replied my mother. “He gave it to me as a wedding gift.”
Plot, anyone? But that was the end of the conversation. Temporarily.
My father owned a graphic design firm affiliated with an ad agency. The famed fashion writer for The Detroit News convinced my parents to buy a mid-century modern ranch in her neighborhood of writers, musicians, and artists. Every house in the neighborhood was its own encapsulated plot.
