Are There Any Original Stories Left?
By Cathy Yardley | December 2, 2014 |
Therese here to officially introduce you to our newest regular contributor: Cathy Yardley! Cathy is the author of eighteen novels, published with houses such as St. Martin’s and Avon, as well as her self-published Rock Your Writing series. She’s also a developmental editor and writing coach, helping authors complete, revise, and get their stories published. Please join me in welcoming her to WU!
“Everything’s been done already. Why am I even bothering?”
Photo by Scott Liddell
I hear this from writers all the time. This seems especially true for genre novelists, who worry that their story idea isn’t original, or worse, that nothing is original these days.
Does the world really need another swords-and-sorcery Tolkien knock-off? Why in the world would they want yet another billionaire’s secret baby? And haven’t we seen the hard-boiled P.I. or cheerfully dotty amateur sleuth more than enough?
They’re asking the wrong question.
They’re examining the “problem” as writers — not as readers.
The better question is: why are these genres, tropes and archetypes still popular?
Fairy tales. Fables. Myths. Archetypes. They’ve been twisted, tweaked, and tailored to fit audiences for centuries, right up to today.
Writers don’t need to write something so unique it’s unrecognizable. Instead, we can address the emotional needs served by these so-called “unoriginal” tales — and create something that serves those needs in a new way.
And now for something completely different.
To understand why “nothing new under the sun” is not a death knell, we’re going to examine…
Football.
Specifically, The Superbowl.
(If you’re not a huge American football fan, neither am I. Please bear with me.)
The Superbowl first started in 1967. In all that time, the rules have remained fairly static.
The outcome is also predictable: one team will win, one team will lose. It cannot end in a tie.
Nor will it end unexpectedly with the teams breaking into interpretive dance around a painted yak in the third quarter. “Originality” is not the point here.
It’s the same game every year. Only the players are different. So why do so many people tune in every year?
Emotional engagement.
When I was a child, the only football game I watched was the Superbowl, and I cheered like a madwoman.
Why? Because my brother and I would bet one nickel on opposing teams.
Suddenly, it went from “this is a boring game I don’t really understand” to “if the guys with the silver helmets get the ball to the end, I get to crow victory over my big brother.”
It gave me emotional engagement. I knew what the outcome needed to be, and I was clearly rooting for someone. It changed how I viewed everything.
How this applies to genre: get readers emotionally engaged with your protagonist.
There are two basic ways to do this. First, give them a fully fleshed character. One of the biggest dangers in writing genre is getting lazy because you’re relying on audience familiarity. A stereotype is as bad as a statistic when it comes to emotional involvement.
[pullquote]One of the biggest dangers in writing genre is getting lazy because you’re relying on audience familiarity. A stereotype is as bad as a statistic when it comes to emotional involvement.[/pullquote]
Next, give them something clear to root for. If I bet a nickel that the guys in silver were “better” than the guys in red, say, and they just milled around the field, I would get disengaged quickly, because there was no quantitative way to achieve the goal. The reader needs a clear definition of victory here, as well.
Increased stakes.
The Superbowl is the culmination of a season’s worth of battles. You might not care about the smaller skirmishes, but there is no question: the stakes in this game, for these players, are high. That’s why the winning team is shown shouting and hugging while the losing team has the despondent, shell-shocked look of soldiers being carried off a battle field.
Your story needs to have a similar sense of stakes. Even “small” stories have personal significance for their characters, and consequently for their readers.
The best test for this: ask “if my protagonist fails, what is the tragedy?”
It doesn’t always have to be global, but if the only consequence is “the protagonist will be somewhat miffed” then you don’t have stakes.
Suspense and surprise.
Many felt the last Superbowl was boring, even if they were fans of the winning team. Why? Because it was lopsided: a total rout. It was obvious fairly quickly who the winner would be. Even people who were truly passionate about the sport — actually, especially people truly passionate about the sport — were disappointed by the game itself.
Think about that response in terms of genre readers. Despite the fact that they adore everything about the genre, they are often disappointed because the characters are too predictable, the ending is too obvious, the path too mundane. They know what’s going to happen before they get to the first plot point. (As a result, many don’t bother reading further.)
In football, a “close game” is the key. You want evenly matched teams, really putting their all into it. You want to see surprise fumbles and stunning reversals. You want your team to win, yes, but there’s something about holding your breath, sitting on the edge of your seat, waiting to see how in the world they’ll be able to pull off the impossible.
You want the suspense, and you want the surprise.
Genre is no different. Yes, in a love story, you want to see the lovers meet, woo, and live happily ever after. But you want to see genuine conflict and growth. You want to feel the struggle against infatuation, the depth of emotion, hope warring with uncertainty. You want to feel invested in these specific lovers, and then wonder how in the world they’ll overcome their difficulties and get to their happy ending, because right now you truly believe that all hope is lost.
When you give true fans a solution that surprises them, one they didn’t see coming yet is still utterly believable, then you’re satisfying their emotional needs.
Fair play.
You can’t have a close game suddenly turn over because a wide receiver brings a gun on the field and no one is willing to tackle him. Yes, it’s a victory, but it breaks the rules.
To win via a technicality or a gross violation is not a win, it’s a disappointment, for fans of both teams.
In a genre story, you need to generate suspense and provide surprise while leading toward a satisfying conclusion that plays fair. No Deus ex machina. In a romance, no “big misunderstanding, whoops” and in a mystery, no “he wasn’t dead, he was just hiding, no mystery here” endings.
[pullquote]The rules must be followed. The conventions must be met. And the ending must surprise and satisfy, despite that.[/pullquote]
Twist, yes.
Shock, sure.
Cheat?
Absolutely not.
The rules must be followed. The conventions must be met. And the ending must surprise and satisfy, despite that.
Creativity flourishes in constraint.
Some of the most creative and amazing stories are re-imaginings, because you have parameters that force you to look at common stories in an uncommon way.
If you can create fully fleshed characters that readers engage with, give them clear goals that readers root for, high stakes and evenly-matched obstacles, and then run them through the gauntlet of the story with true suspense and surprise, following the rules of the trope — then, my friend, you’ll have created something even better than a forced “something new.”
You’ll have written something spell binding and wonderful, and that’s what readers are truly looking for.
Now, your turn. Do you feel like there’s nothing new under the sun? How do you bridge the gap between coming up with something unique and fulfilling reader expectations?
Cathy Yardley has published over 33 novels, novellas, and serialized fiction, both traditionally and independently. In 2011, she started RockYourWriting.com, with the mission of helping novelists make a living. She has helped hundreds of authors as a developmental editor, writing coach, and through her “plot sessions” – one-on-one calls that get authors from concept to plot points in one hour. She’s also written the Rock Your Writing series of reference books, taking authors through the writing cycle, from concept to completion. Sign up for her newsletter, and you can receive free downloads to help you plot and revise your novel.
Hi, Cathy:
I love the fact that, despite using a sports metaphor, you were able to expand the analysis beyond purely adversarial stories — such as love stories. I’m not one of those who thinks of the lovers in a romance as protagonist and antagonist in the standard sense, and trying to squeeze the love story into that paradigm tends to create more problems (and confusion) than it solves. But the need for conflict and high stakes remain. I remember Stella Adler once telling a roomful of aspiring actors: “Whenever a man and a woman are together on stage, they are COMPLETELY in love. All they’re haggling over is terms.” That speaks to both the stakes and the unique nature of the conflict.
The other point I love is your insistence on the equal status of the adversaries when it really is a mano-o-mano conflict. When I teach crime writing, I tell my students that the opponent’s view of life must have some sense of credibility, and the more the better. The more you can get the reader to think, “You know, I see his point,” the more tension you create because the legitimacy of his purpose provides a source of strength that the simply demonic have to gin up by being monstrous but little else. It’s not that monsters don’t make powerful adversaries. They just make uninteresting ones.
Similarly, a hero whose purpose is tainted by the corrupt institutions or compromised society he’s obliged to defend also creates tension, because he faces resistance not just from his adversaries but his supposed allies. (This is why choosing heroes and villains at the middle-management level, as it were, can work so well — by creating additional sources and angles of conflict.)
Thanks for the great post.
Romances are the perfect example, since they are often pure trope: friends-to-lovers, one that got away, etc. Making a romance something fresh and unexpected is a Herculean challenge.
And I love your point on villains (especially the “middle-management” angle!) I used to joke that the biggest problem in fairy tales is that villains were hamstrung by hiring incompetent help.
Thanks for commenting!
Cathy, welcome to WU as a regular contributor.I am a big fan of your work and you are a great addition to WU. When I read book reviews I am amazed at the number of original story lines authors invent. Yet, what is not new under the sun are the key elements that drive compelling fiction You have defined these elements well: emotional engagement, high stakes and consequences, identifiable goals, suspense and surprise, and fair play. And, if the author is doing her job, there will be a transformative growth that takes place within the main character. Ultimately all good stories are character-driven and that is where authors must strive for originality and freshness. Stories are about people. Ten authors can take the same story prompt or template and come up with ten widely different stories. Writers win the Super Bowl by creating complex characters with whom the reader connects and crafting stories that ensures they are fundamentally transformed. Thanks for a great post.
I agree: character is the heart of any story. Plot is the crucible that forces a character to grow.
Thanks, CG!
Cathy-
Welcome!
It never fails: Create a high concept story and for some reason several other writers come up with the same idea. Suddenly there’s a spate of Hemingway’s women novels, or teen die-and-do-overs.
Remember the year (1998) of meteor-destroys-the-Earth movies? (“Armageddon”, “Deep Impact”) Poor Earth. Wasn’t a good year for our planet, was it? Or for those screenwriters.
Ideas are free and unprotected by copyright, so a high concept story idea is bound to found by others. And genre plots? Ha. There always are antecedents. If you’re successful you can plan on having imitators, too.
One antidote for this infliction, as you beautifully elaborate, is to do your story better than the rest. Another is to do a story that no one else can do, and do it well.
No, there’s nothing new under the sun. Except you, your life observed, your outlook and your unique way of spinning a tale.
Nice post, Cathy, looking forward to more.
I remember year of the meteor! And the volcano year, too. :) Oof. It’s a bit like YA, where there were a ton of Twilight knock-offs and it kicked off the YA paranormal romance trend, then The Hunger Games boosted the profile of Dystopian, and now John Green’s The Fault In Our Stars is starting the wave of angst-filled contemporary. Everything is cyclical.
I’m fangirling a bit here… I’ve read your books for years.Thanks so much for commenting!
Great analogy. As a former hockey fan, I used to follow every nuance of the game, get pulled into the player’s lives, watch scores get settled. I knew the players and their dynamics all of which created that extra emotional investment. Like you said, the rules stay the same. The game must be played the way it is laid out in the playbook. But that doesn’t lessen the connection between fans and players. This is a good reminder for me as I’m struggling to plot yet another genre book. For me the push has been to structure a meaningful story with emotionally engaging characters within the parameters of the genre, and yet find a way to bring in my voice. I sometimes struggle against the constraints but at the same time, it does push me to be more creative. Thanks for the encouragement to follow the rules, yet find a way to make it mine.
I love your hockey story: it’s like super-fan readers, who not only love the story, they search for your backlist, follow you on social media, dig for every interview. But that’s promotion, a whole other kettle of fish.
Thanks for commenting, Carolyne!
Welcome! I look forward to more guiding-star advice such as this. You said it so well, I had to save those last two paragraphs. I myself have nothing to add. :o)
Thanks, Carmel! :)
First: Yay, Coach! So glad we’ll be seeing you regularly here. You’ve long been a big part of my WU-niverse.
Okay, to your point. Even a muscular trope-bender like George RR Martin would agree: “Ideas are cheap. I have more ideas now than I could ever write up. To my mind, it’s the execution that is all-important. I’m proud of my work, but I don’t know if I’d ever claim it’s enormously original. You look at Shakespeare, who borrowed all of his plots. In A Song of Ice and Fire, I take stuff from the Wars of the Roses and other fantasy things, and all these things work around in my head and somehow they gel into what I hope is uniquely my own.”
I once had a friendly debate about this issue, specifically in regards to the movie Avatar. He was disgruntled over the fact that it’s such a well-worn idea (displaced and/or subjugated indigenous peoples, infiltrated by a protag from the so-called civilized society, who finds a much more fully developed society and joins them in strife for freedom). I wonder if I first got the line from you, but my stance was that there are no new stories, only unique treatments of them. I asked him to come up with a totally unique story idea he’d recently seen. He thought for a while and came up with The Truman Show. Hmmm – Creator who loves his creation so much, he pampers him in a perfectly crafted world, until he accidentally infuses a rogue element (a woman!) who taints the creation’s perception of his perfect world, until he seeks to create his own life on his own terms. I’m thinking it’s pretty much based on an oldie but a goodie: Genesis!
And yay to more genre-related posts from my original mentor!
Thanks, Vaughn! I love the WU community, so it’s nice to give back a bit. And I’m laughing at your Truman Show connection. You can’t get much more archetypal than the Bible!
What an amazing post, Cathy! It’s printed and added to my best-advice file!
I read a lot. A lot. And sure, some of what I read must melt into my writing. But when I’m developing a WIP, I take extra care NOT to read books that might influence my personal take on the story. There are no new ideas, but the ideas out there weren’t written by me, and only I can tell it my way.
Can’t wait for your next post, Cathy!
Denise Willson
Author of A Keeper’s Truth and GOT
That’s a wise precaution to take, Denise. Besides, one way to stay fresh in your genre is to draw from other genres, in my opinion. Thanks for commenting!
Dee, Greg and I had this conversation long ago about reading similar books that can inadvertantly appear in your work. I read a lot of non-fiction for research, but for this new novel I’m staying away from Holocaust fiction.
I’ve heard tell that even Shakespeare used old story plot lines for his work, because, every story he wrote the Greeks or somebody had thought of it first. In addition, the facts that he was a playwright and one of the world’s greatest writers, I don’t think you can separate those two parts of him. Playwrights by the very nature of their work need to develop “meaty” characters…
Love this post! And, the idea of a football game stopping so the players can dance ’round a painted yak, even I would tune into football to see that.
The points made here are so heartening, a compass to pull out and find direction from in those dark times of floundering self-doubt. It’s not what you say but how you say it. “Tell it the way only you can tell it .” It’s become my mantra. This post is definitely one for my keeper file. Thank you.
I was thinking Romeo and Juliet when I wrote this, which came from earlier Italian stories…which had their roots in Ovid’s Pyramus and Thisbe… which was drawn from earlier Greek stories. Great stories survive. (And how you write it matters!)
I’d watch more football if there was a possibility of painted yaks, as well. ;) Thanks for commenting!
Cathy–
Very obviously, regular readers of Writer Unboxed stand to learn a great deal from you. All I would add to your fine post is a kind of footnote to your Super Bowl analogy.
The marketplace for books is crowded these days. Independent publishing–enabled by new technologies–has led to what might be called genre saturation: so many more titles, both good and bad.
I think it’s analogous to the effect on sports of many more teams, and especially of technological innovations like the instant replay. Every big play in the Super Bowl, and every other big moment in sports, the news, etc., is now seen over and over. For me at least, this has led to a certain loss of tension or interest, an over-exposure to skill that has left me jaded.
Simultaneously, the technology of delivery of information has made the private deeds–especially the misdeeds–of athletes almost as important as what they do on the field. Less interest in the game itself has been supplanted by tabloid “breaking news” about private life.
The equivalent in terms of the writer of genre novels is a much greater emphasis on self-promotion, on making the writer almost as important to the reader as the writing. Again, this is only possible because of new technologies, specifically those that enable social media.
As a reader, the effect of these changes is to make me more aware of genre itself, and less tolerant of writers who rely on formulaic storytelling. It also makes me resist efforts to engage my interest in the writer, or strategies for “branding” books and authors. In the tower of Babel that is modern book publishing, I want what you want: stories that play by the rules, but that find imaginative ways to make me forget those rules.
Thanks, Barry! I’m going to tackle promotion in a different post, but I agree: the new transparency and hyper-awareness of social media has created a strange fatigue for readers, even as they gobble up more and more details. It has also tweaked how stories are created, as well as marketed. Looking forward to discussing that!
This is an excellent post, Cathy. Perfect analogy to the Super Bowl. Besides print genre, it’s the classic formula for many films. I’m thinking Woody & Buzz in Toy Story :)
Thanks, Garry! I appreciate the comment. Toy Story is a great example of taking some typical tropes — enemies-to-friends when faced with common problems, for example — and tweaking it into something very original!
Welcome to the WU arena, Cathy. You’re in great company (as you know). I enjoyed your post and the sports metaphor. It’s true, there are no new ideas (or let’s say few…every once in a while a surprising and unusual story appears) – how we make our story unique is our voice and the way we tell it. That is what’s new – what we, as writers, bring to it. As a reader I will read the same basic story over and over if the author has an unusual and distinct way of telling it – that’s what makes an idea fresh and new.
I’m thrilled to be a part of the WU team. As a reader, I’ve got a few favorite tropes, myself. I’m a sucker for unlikely hero/underdog stories, for example. Thanks for commenting!
I’m no expert, but my opinion based on my experiences so far is that writing something original isn’t that difficult. (The most difficult thing I’ve ever done was attempt to write a “category romance” that had to follow a specific trope). Selling it is the difficult part, because agents and editors need marketable stories with an established audience. The more original a story is, the less marketable it seems to be, so all the original work stays buried in the slush pile instead of gracing the shelves.
I guess it depends on how you define original, Sarah. I think it’s hard to write something completely and unequivocally unique. It could be easy to mash up different genres, or to create a story that doesn’t follow three act structure. Selling it is a different issue altogether, I agree.
When editors and agents say they want “the same, but different” this is what they mean: they want something fresh, that still fulfills the same visceral emotional needs the readers expect from tried-and-true genre, tropes, and archetypes. That’s a tall order.
Cathy, Welcome to WU and thank you for a timely post as I hash out some ideas with my editor. I do a lot of commercial work-for-hire and I enjoy it but I’m finding that my best work involves what only I could possibly write. Now, it may not be as popular … but I’m thinking of the Gary Larson cartoon, I just gotta be me!
Thanks, Vijaya! Good luck with your brainstorming (and love the Gary Larson thing… I love that one, with the penguins! )
I’m normally not a fan of sports metaphors, but I connected with this one. Not because I always watch the Superbowl (I don’t) but because, here in Alabama, the biggest football game of the year is the Iron Bowl. It’s Alabama versus Auburn. Every. Single. Time. So sometimes even the players are the same. But Alabamians on both sides are emotionally engaged: this is MY school, MY team, the one MY family roots for. Ah, now I understand being emotionally engaged.
“When you give true fans a solution that surprises them, one they didn’t see coming yet is still utterly believable, then you’re satisfying their emotional needs.”
If you’d like to see this in action–football action, that is–find the last few minutes of Iron Bowl 2013 and watch Auburn–MY TEAM!–win. But don’t just watch them win. Watch HOW they win. It’s a surprise and believable and suspenseful and it’s fair play (even if Alabama fans still won’t admit it). And we, as writers, need to pull off that kind of incredible action in our books.
I love this! It makes a huge difference, doesn’t it… when it’s YOUR team. When you identify and connect with them. Thanks for commenting!
Welcome, Cathy! Great post.
I love the sportsball analogy. And the idea of footballers doing an interpretive dance around a painted yak made me laugh. Your note in a comment about about villains being hamstrung by their own bad help reminded me of the Evil Overlord List, the ultimate checklist of what not to make your antagonist do.
I’m looking forward to reading more of your insights on WU.
Evil Overlord List! I love it. Reminds me of a comic strip I saw, about “Voldemort’s administrative assistant, Kevin” who kept telling him his horcruxes were stupid and then shaking his head. (“You didn’t put one in the snake, did you? Well, at least you didn’t bring it to the battle, right? Right?”)
Thanks for the welcome! :D
Great to see you here, Cathy! I was thinking the other day about a new story idea (yes, another one, but much different than the ones we spoke about) and I was struggling how to make it different and not the same old, same old. You know what helped? Two simple words that formed a question: “What if?” Amazing what a series of “What ifs” can inspire and lead to something–dare I say it–unique.
Thanks, Rebeca! I’m glad to see you here. And I agree, “what if” is a wonderful tool to grow stories organically!
Sometimes people don’t realize when they become veteran readers.
The experienced are harder to please because they’ve seen so much.
What’s not fresh for mature readers, might be fresh for newer readers.
Good point, Brian. That said, I know that as a veteran, I value a fresh take on an old tale even more as a result.
Thank you for this extremely encouraging and highly-needed post! I feel I do get into this rut sometimes about originality. Not right now, thanks to your article…=)
Good post, Cathy
First of all, what is an original story? To me, every story is original. Even a plagiarized work of fiction has something the original storyteller did not have. But that might put the kibosh on the people reading your story part.
I’m not a formula fiction writer, but I have a few books about plot structure. Depending on which book, there are no more than six or twelve or twenty-five possible plots; but there’s an uncountable number of ways to arrange subplots within a story. If you want to write an original story someone not related to you will read for pleasure, then write a story the way you want to write it. It’s that simple.
Any story you write will be original because your imagination is not the same as anyone else’s. Of course, if you have an obsession with being truly original, you can invent your own alphabet. But that might but the kibosh on the people reading it for pleasure part.
Original storytelling will end the year the last kind, loving, generous, thoughtful, hardworking person vanishes from the earth. No original stories are likely after the last person who’s evil, corrupt, dishonest, or murderous has disappeared. Probably won’t be many original stories when there’s no such thing as serendipity, or when people stop discovering they can live without the person they thought they could not live without, or when people stop struggling to survive hardship. For original stories to end, human interaction would also have to end either shortly before or soon after.
I guess the “last original novel” will be about the end of storytelling—that is, if there’s not a sequel.
I think we’re making the same point, ultimately. Thanks for commenting, Lamont!
Maybe some commercial genres that consist mainly of writers imitating other writers should reach an end. Then they might actually start using their imaginations and doing the work required to write something original.
Great analogy, Cathy, and welcome aboard!
Thanks, Jan! :)
Cathy,
So glad for your unique voice in the same old WU. Ha! And for a woman who isn’t a fan of American football you sure wrung the hell out of that tool to make your points. (As a football player and fan they all worked for me.) The team paradigm makes an excellent template for writing stories. I wonder if that’s because we humans are really tribal in our basic nature. We always find ourselves rooting for one side or another, even when we all know its just a game and tomorrow we won’t remember who was playing. It’s an identity thing. And if writers seize upon this and shape the conflict to ring the tribal bells, readers will come running. So much for creating peace on earth!
In my years as a songwriter–yes it involves study too–we learned there are only 12 types of songs. “Anything you produce will fit into one of the twelve slots. So get over it and get writing great songs.”
The works of Homer came from archetypes before him, and he made them sing, which is why they worked and were passed on. So if he can do it, we should feel unabashed to steal everything we can find. . . from him and every other great storyteller. Now, lets all get butts in chair and tell those stories for today in our own voices.
I look forward to your posts.
My mom plays a fantasy league and watches the draft. Comparatively speaking, I am an utter dilettante. ;) That said, I’m a regional fan: Seattle pride, 12th man all the way! (Although after years of living in Oakland, I still can’t bring myself to root against the Raiders.) So I get what you’re saying about tribes. Your readers become a tribe, too, after all (although I don’t see Stephen King fans gang fighting Dean Koontz fans any time soon.)
Song writing is even more difficult, in many ways, because you’ve got no real estate to get themes across. It’s so compact, the shortest of stories. I’ve done some lyric work, and it was brutal. I tip my hat to you, sir.
Thanks for adding to the conversation!
Cathy,
Forgot to say welcome to WU. Glad you’re going to be a regular contributor to WU. Looking forward to more of your insight.
Thanks, Lamont!
Hi Cathy,
I really liked your thoughts on constraints. I run into many writers who rebel against constraints and rules of any kind. Sometimes, I wonder if I’m the only one who needs them. For instance, I’m at my most inventive when I’m trying to write nano fiction, 100 word stories. And trying to use Blake Snyder’s beats makes it seem almost like a puzzle to be solve. For me, it’s fun.
Thank you,
Lisa
Yes…totally agree. The superbowl comparison is very apt.
There are plenty of great writers around with great stories. Indeed, emotional engagement is often the key. Yes, it may sound familiar, but often, people want to know how this particular tale concludes. I’ve been complaining in recent years that the American entertainment community seems locked into the habit of rehashing old movies, or – worse – old TV shows, instead of taking a chance on something knew. I believe, with the slew of good writers out there, Hollywood would have enough material to last a century or more.
Wonderful post, Cathy – glad I found it. The analogy with sports is so apt. Most of all, this reminded me that there’s a good reason why re-imaginings can and do work, and why it is not only alright, but wonderful to do so.
You’ve llaid to rest that little demon on my shoulder whispering doubts, such as “Who are you to do such a thing?” and “How dare you!”
Vaughn and Donald’s comments were the icing on the cake!
Thank you all.