The Problem
How can we make our chapters more dramatic, more nimble, more powerful -- without confusing the reader?
There is so much that can happen in a chapter. And when we think of the books we love, it's easy to remember a host of fascinating elements, and so it's equally easy to think: my chapters need to have all of those cool things.
More simply, it's hard to know what to focus on, or what to use as a guiding light. Whether you are a pantser or a plotter, you know instinctively that readers prefer stories that flow smoothly, that progress and develop in a "good" way; and yet there are so many things you know you are supposed to include:
- action and "plot"
- character development
- essential info
- setting
- foreshadowing
- "theme"
- dialogue
- backstory
This can quickly become overwhelming. If you try to focus on including all of these things in a single chapter, you will likely, sooner or later, stop writing, or switch into editing mode, going back and revising pages, over and over again.
I would like to propose a simpler approach.
I believe that when a reader picks up your book, they are primarily looking for a relationship with a main character. They want to relate to a protagonist, and, through the plot, be drawn into a closer and closer relationship.
If we use this as a starting point, figuring out what a chapter should be about becomes easier. We are, primarily, writing about a person and the things that person cares about; the plot forces the character to do something about his or her yearnings, fears, hopes, regrets and so on.
Everything else is optional. The name of the novel's villain; how hyper-meld technology works; the reason her ex-husband stole the family parrot; the fact that none of these eighteenth century urchins are wearing shoes; the revelation that the heiress to the pornography empire has grown bored... These things can be brought up later.
Step one is to connect your reader to a person -- a person who is doing something, or having something done to them.
And the best way to design a chapter around the development of such a relationship is to write in scenes.
This Lesson Contains
- Technique: scene and sequel
- Handout: a mild-mannered woman
- Practice: an unwelcome distraction
The first part of writing "character-first" is designing chapters that focus on your character's goals, ambitions, yearnings, fears -- and which depict that character's attempts to take action on those feelings / beliefs.
That's what a "scene" is: a continuous period of narrative time, usually in one location, where the character tries to get or avoid something.
- Newland Archer has to defend the reputation of his fiancee's cousin during a dinner-party.
- Synite tries to intimidate the leading dignitaries of a coastal town.
- In a prison shower room, Jack Reacher has to fight his way out of an attempt on his life.
When the character either gets what they want, or doesn't, or discovers something surprising, the scene usually ends.
Writing like this will make your work easier for your readers to follow.
But there's another layer, and this will help you build intense, remarkable stories.
A "sequel," following each scene, allows your character to pause, reflect, consider, recover, and make a new plan. It is a period of introspection by the main character.
In other words,
Scenes allow you to create focused passages with lots of narrative momentum.
Sequels allow you to show the meaning of those dramatic moments, clarifying to the reader what effect the recent event had on the protagonist, and explaining what the protagonist intends to do next.Enter your text here...
(these terms come from Jack Bickham's excellent craft book, Scene and Sequel.)
Worksheet: Mia Gets Angry (download)
So let's try out this scene / sequel technique.
First, let's try to sketch out a few scenes.
Imagine that you are writing a novel about a mild-mannered college instructor, Mia.
Mia is an adjunct professor, teaching different classes in a series of universities in upstate New York. She has no health insurance; she never knows where she will be teaching from season to season; each college can cancel her classes at any time.
Mia struggles to pay the rent, to cope with her ex's cruel social media posting, to get respect from her many employers... and yet she remains calm and amiable, most of the time.
You have this idea that in a chapter or two, Mia is going to be visited by some sort of dark magical being, and offered a strange stone watch, a smoking, eldritch timepiece that will allow her to get revenge on everyone who has crossed her.
The problem is that you, as the writer, don't find it believable that Mia would say yes. Why would a good person accept the aid of an ancient evil god with an uncertain number of tentacles?
You realise that you will have to design your scenes carefully, to put increasing pressure on Mia, over three scenes, until she is worn down by life, until her good intentions are exhausted.
Complete the worksheet to figure out what those scenes might be, and share them, if you like, in a comment below.
Three scenes to really upset Mia
or click the image below....
Practice: An Unwelcome Distraction (Interactive)
Now let's sketch out a sequel.
As you'll see, a sequel allows you to add character-depth and meaning to scenes even as the plot keeps moving forwards. It's in the sequels that we really get to know the protagonist, where, for example, we learn how Mia really feels about losing her apartment.
This next activity is interactive, and you can take it as many times as you like to see all the different options.
These exercises will get more complex as the course goes on and you build up your skills. This first one is simple: what if your protagonist experienced something that you've experienced in your own (real) life? How would they react?
PS If you enter your email address when prompted, I'll send you everything you wrote by email -- and you'll see the full response to the lesson once you click "finish." So feel free to write more than the minimum for the prompt: you'll get it all sent to your inbox once you complete the lesson.
You can either click this link to begin the prompt or use the purple button, below.
Now: leave a comment below :-)
Share some of your writing! Ask me a question! Tell me what to cover in more depth...
3rd scene for Mia: the last straw for Mia was getting weird, unexplained headaches which left her in pain and cranky. Aspirin doesn’t really help and having no insurance, she can’t go to a doctor for help. Eventually, when the demon with the watch comes around again, she figures, “Maybe I’m dying from a brain tumor. At least I can get a little sweet revenge on the people and the stupid system which exploits adjunct, nomadic teachers!” And she begins making a list of all the people who need a little payback…
“Unicorns.” Love it.
I appreciate your approach. It meshes with other things I’ve read about creating a relationship between the character and the reader. I’m looking forward to trying out the scene-sequel-scene-sequel technique both by looking for it in other people’s writing and in my own.
My 3rd-scene concept for Mia: She tries to extend an olive branch to her ex-fiancé by congratulating him on his being featured in an art exhibition, but he accuses her of being a passive-aggressive stalker and makes negative comments about her mental state, saying he’s surprised the people at her current job were willing to hire such a liability issue.
My feedback on the lesson:
Enjoyed the video, and there was plenty of information packed into a bite-sized space of time. That was definitely nice.
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Glad we had the examples in the worksheet to start us off. It’s really important to me to have concrete examples of the kind of thing we’re supposed to be going for. Also, I likely would’ve overwritten without them, thinking I had to try and write out the entire scene in-depth rather than just a sketch of it. So very glad they were there for clarity.
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I really enjoyed the interactive portion overall, and I’m glad I went back to check out the other two paths as well.
My one comment there is that I think it would be a good idea to add a clearer ending screen or notice of what the endpoint is. It was puzzling to write in the scene continuation and then simply be taken back to the main screen, not having known that there was nothing else after the part you write yourself. And with the option where there was no additional scene to write ourselves—the confident response where the character was immediately ready to move forward again—that also got confusing.
It would just be helpful to have something let us know that yes, the exercise has been completed and there’s nothing missing or glitching out. (-:
That’s a good point! Let me think how to do that.
These are my submissions for the interactive section:
For the regretful path, I answered in a summary style, and then for the isolated path, I wrote the reaction bit out more fully. I actually ran out of space as it exceeded the 500-word amount. In both cases, since it wasn’t an already named and identified character, I used a character from my own series. That way I wouldn’t get stuck on having to figure out psychology and other details for a brand new one, and could focus on the exercise itself.
Regretful Path Prompt:
Part two: who rescues them?
The character is stuck, for the moment unable to get back on track. They know they need to seek out the person they came to talk to, but the weird interaction they just finished has left them feeling discontent and unbalanced. Fortunately, a friendly figure appears, and gives them a small push: this gets them out of their minor funk. Who is this friendly face, and what do they say?
Reply: His best friend at work. She tells him that there’s still time to catch up with the woman he needs to speak to, and semi-jokingly offers to run interference to keep the elderly man from interrupting again.
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Isolated Path Prompt:
Part two: eyes on me
Now that the character is conscious of their isolation and vulnerability, how does the room change in their perception? What reminders do they see / hear of their difference to the people nearby? What veiled antagonism do they detect in the two random people leaning against a wall?
Reply: He let out a sharp breath and scanned the room. And remembered how much he hated events like this. Crowded spaces overstocked with perfume and stuffed suits for whom these subjects were framed by board meetings and lost dollars rather than spilled blood and lost friends. They were easy to spot—they exhibited this attitude of relaxation—no, carelessness—that he hadn’t had the luxury of for…years.
He felt eyes on him and glanced over to see a clearly well-fed pair of older men huddled near the wall nearby, staring. Scowling. When he made eye contact, they turned away and returned to their conversation—wineglasses in hand and disdain all but leaking from their pores.
The kinds of people who easily could’ve and would’ve ended up seeking his protection. He clenched his jaw and prayed to God that Sarai Owens wasn’t going to be like that. But even if she wasn’t, he had to get ahold of himself.
Mia Gets Angry
3rd Scene
The snow had turned into a slushy mess by the time Mia reached home. She parked her beat-up compact car on the street between the strange pieces of furniture her neighbors were using to mark their parking spots. It was the one time Mia was grateful for her crappy, piece-of-shit car. If the ladder or the wingback chair sitting out in the parking lane landed on her car, she would probably never notice it.
A second car pulled up as she extricated herself from her car. By the time she was on the sidewalk, her neighbor was already moving his furniture.
“Can I help?” Maybe Greg new of another apartment for rent. It was worth a shot.
Greg grinned back at her, “That would be a big help.” He looked back at his car. Inside sat his wife and the new baby.
Looking around, Mia wondered where they kept all this furniture during the rest of the year. She grabbed the ladder. Looking up, she realized that Greg had weighed it down with something substantial on the top step. She wasn’t sure what it was until it was too late to get out of its way.
Regretful Path:
C. A small failure
She heard the odd sound it made long before she saw it. The sign had become unhinged in the wind and groaned in agony above the lone figure. Mia watched in horror as an older man stood under it, shivering in the cold. He just stood there.
“Get out of there,” she waved at the man, who only waved back.
“Moron,” she said under her breath as she tried to mime him moving out from under the sign. He laughed and waved again. This time he attempted the old mime routine of the invisible wall in front of him.
The sign groaned again. This time it was loud enough that the older man finally looked up. She tried to concentrate and imagine the store’s sign hovering in the air.
“Get out of the way,” she yelled. It seemed to shudder at the touch of her thoughts, but she’d only slowed it down. The man seemed frozen in fear underneath it.
Mia gave up on her new abilities and tackled the man out of the way. They landed in a jumble on the other side of the sign as it hit the ground. The sign exploded, and it suddenly rained down metal, glass, and the occasional spark.
Once again, Mia found herself hating her new abilities. What was the point if she couldn’t get them to work? It’s not like they came with a manual or anything. Or maybe they did. She could have lost it on the way to the hospital. That would be so much like her.
She looked down at the blood on her hands. Maybe she could find it on her way to the hospital this time.
My self doubt practice:Rell entered the darkened aery and sat in the open middle area. He let his breathing match the rhythmical snoring of the Drakelings. Think. Gaura is up to something. She never gives in or changes her mind easily. Does she know something I don’t know? Think. Rell shook his head. I’m missing something.”
Great!
The iPad went missing. — as a result, they ended up feeling self-doubting. So they reacted to the experience like this: “She stands in the middle of study. Then she starts turning as she takes in every inch of the room above floor level. She always returns to the place where she left it.”
Re the iPad snippet I posted below. I shall use this behaviour/trait (using an early event where she has something go missing in a gaslighting incident involving an Antagonist) to point to the Protagonist’s character at the beginning of the story. Wow. That was a long sentence. :D
Mia’s 3rd Scene: Mia learns through a social media post that her ex’s grandmother passed away, a woman Mia dearly loved. Despite all that happened between Mia and her ex, she wants to show her respect to his grandmother. She stays up the night before piecing together her own floral arrangement for the family, since special orders are so expensive. The flowers alone meant she’d be eating lighter all week. Mia shows up to the viewing after reading the details in the obituary. To her surprise, she is accosted by her ex’s family (whom she all thought were friendly *enough* before), and learns her ex has told some filthy lies about her, and she is aggressively and embarrassingly thrown out before the funeral begins. Her flower arrangement fell apart in the scuffle.
I’m very grateful that a scenario like this does not qualify as a minor annoyance in my life. I can only imagine the shit this narrator must have to put with.
Oops on my last comment. I now realize this is your response to the worksheet prompt- an appropriate scenario for a woman about to accept a gift from an evil being. :).
Oh wow! It looks like the prompts have completely changed. I’m curious about what the original “third scene,” “regretful path,” and “isolated path” people have mentioned in previous comments are all about!
I really like the beats of momentum and reflection. I can see it will give the character more depth
3rd scene
Mia opened an email from her college job and was advised that unless she can provide a new address asap she wont be registered for jobs in the new year. How could they know this? She had only posted on the share a let platform that morning, and it was private. then the dms started,
you’re such a loser, cant be homeless and expect to work in a college
emoji grin
Dam her ex, he found out, probably from the group chat with vinnie and her friends. WTA? He is.
Amused:
Her sister doesn’t respond to text.
oh if Sis isnt there who can i discuss this with? Look, there’s a better talk buddy, my neighbours cat Blackout who is sitting on my porch. He’s friendly, will not disagree, or argue, or tell me how limited I am in my thinking!
Self doubting:
Can’t find her special shoes.
Why couldnt she just keep her stuff organised. The one day she wanted to look cool and professional ain her black heels and they were lost, unfound, on a different continent! She was sure her ugly chonky brown slip ons were not a good look for the extra job she was interviewing for as a retail assisant. Would they still her a chance?
Defiant:
The car starts making strange noises halfway to town.
Emma stopped the car, pulling it over to the side, and wound down the windows for her dogs.
NO, this was not happening. If she couldn’t get the car going she was stuck with walking the dogs back home, a big ask of the older collie. No, she had options, but no money for a big fix. Ok, breath deep, first step is check the lights, oh not the oil sign! Ok, go open the hood, and check the levels. Bad, way down. Check the boot for the spare oil, yes, there’s enough. So job done and dusted! She didn’t feel confident going on until she could get someone to check over the vehicle. Better to be back home than stuck in town.
I also read Jack Bicham´s book, and I agree with you completely on the character not failing and failing. For example, my character´s gonna become a cardiologist, but before that, he has to succeed in some minor goals. But, generally speaking, Bickham´s book is great.
You imagined that your protagonist experienced: job offer taken back — as a result, they ended up feeling self-doubting. So they reacted to the experience like this: “He felt dejected as he received the news. The friend he talked to about the job, asked how it went. He explained that there was a difference in morals and ethics. Secretly, he contacted the company to find out why he was rejected after the offer.”
Mis tired of Being an Easy Mark
Mia goes into the teacher lounge to get a cup of coffee and eyes the last roll on a tray in the center of the table where three coworkers sit. She walks toward the table, and Greg, a history teacher, slaps the table, saying “damn cockroaches got to the roll before I did “and wipes his hand on a napkin. Mia is just outside the door when she sees Greg take the roll and hears him say, “ She fell for the slapping an imaginary bug trick. She’s an easy mark, I thought she’d grab the roll before I did,” Mia fumes, tired of being an easy mark for bullies.
The cat batted at my plant — as a result, they ended up feeling defiant. So they reacted to the experience like this: “‘Hey! Kitty. What the f—k are you doing? That’s my plant,” she said the emphasis falling on ‘my’. Taking several large, decisive stride towards the wayward cat, the cat who she had, just two days before, seen tear the legs off of a bumblebee to torment in its crippled state. This cats days of terror and mayhem were going to come to an end. She swatted the cat down with a sigh. “F—king animals.”
I’m not sure I’m doing this right…
OK, this page is much better than page 1. The audio narration is much clearer than on the previous page. I like the voice-over that keeps me listening without the distraction of living colors and movements. The instructions are clear, I can follow your train of thought and meaning.
I like the illustrated breakdown of Jack Bickham’s Model. Thank You.
So, Daniel, I’ve read through your opening of Lesson One and am wondering…When and where does the writer introduce the overall STORY GOAL, during which the threads of the scenes and equals flow to show how the characters grow and change to overcome his/her basic flaws/beliefs/knots by the Climax?
Mia gets angry, in scene 3.
Mia wanders around the supermarket. She ponders over the squashes, feeling each one for firmness. How could her landlord be so cruel? Distracted she placed the best squash beside her fresh kale, coconut milk, and curry paste. Her mother had taught her to cook for distraction, and distraction was what she needed.
Wishing the checkout girl a good day she headed back out into the blazing sun, blinded momentarily she paused. Her eyes met with the eyes of the homeless man, legs crossed, an almost empty cardboard cup in front of him.
Purse still in hand, her heart swelled at the thought of helping another despite her recent misfortune. She juggled her shopping bags and purse walking towards him, his face grinning. Too late, she never noticed the young boy in cut-off dirty jeans tear past her, grabbing her purse as he went. Faster than lightning he was round the corner, the apparently homeless man at his tail.
Mia stood, bereft, tears streaming down her cheeks.
I really enjoyed this first lesson – it’s making me look at writing from a totally different perspective. Thank you!
(My friend and former writing teacher is one of the strikers in the longest adjunct professors’ strike in history due to low wages, high-class size, dwindling classroom resources, and no benefits while tuitions skyrocketed. I added his situation to Mia’s.)
Mia returned to her apartment after her encounter with Jeff, the rental agent. She opened the door and saw a note on the floor that someone must have slipped under her door. It’s probably a formal rent increase notice, she thought. Jeff loved to give the bad news in person and watch his tenants squirm, but he always followed up with the legally required written notice. Was he following the law or company procedure, or did he want to needle her once more and let her stew about it alone in her expensive but shabby apartment? she wondered as she opened the note. She dropped the envelope on her hallway floor and read its contents. No, the note wasn’t from Jeff or Rentals R Us. It was from her teachers’ union. All the adjunct professors were going on strike effective tonight. The note detailed her assigned picket location, her farthest and most inconvenient school, and added “P.S. bring a sign.” “I went to 12 years of university to be the lowest-paid, working homeless person in the world, and now I’m on strike,” she yelled to no one in particular. Then, Mia felt an impulse run from her brain to her legs. She dashed to the kitchen, fell onto the floor, and pulled out a loose, stained vinyl tile that had been annoying her. She reached into her junk drawer and pulled out a black, indelible marker. Then, sitting on the floor, she scrawled across the tile, “On Strike From Life.” She got to her feet with tile in hand and put it outside her door, slammed it and locked herself in.
You imagined that your protagonist experienced:
Doctor not listening — as a result, they ended up feeling self-doubting.
So they reacted to the experience like this:
“What is it with this doctor that I can’t seem to get through to her! Philip doesn’t have any issues with her, neither does Memes, so what am I doing wrong? Did I upset her? I answered her question and still she belittled me. Was I the one that wasn’t listening?”
I have used the scene sequel process my entire novel writing life. I did not realize there was a “name” for what I was doing instinctively until I read a book about sequels several years ago. However, my sequels don’t actually occur until the next chapter, after the incident has occurred and I’ve ended the scene with a cliffhanger (I use each scene as a chapter – for faster reading and to keep the reader turning the page). To me, this allows the character to assess and plan the next move and dive right into it.
my book is about the protagonist’s relationship with her estranged father when she is called to reunite because he has cancer and she has to bring him to her in order to care for him. is it ok if i also start with her husband wanting to divorce at the same time
1 WGC lesson 1 Mia
Third Scene outline
Mia’s girlfriend, CeeCee, promises to join her in New York under two conditions: Mia proves she enjoys her job enough to stay and provides them with a suitable home. The first one Mia can fake, but the eviction notice is an obvious deal breaker.
Desperate to find another place, Mia reaches out to her estranged father and asks for a stipend from the trust fund her molesting grandfather left her. Her father laughs. “Every whore has their price,” he says and against her better judgement, she takes the money.
Three days before her girlfriend’s arrival, Mia receives a text from CeeCee announcing she’s in love with a man and they are flying to Vegas to be married. Mia pours out her heart, begging CeeCee for a second chance only to find her number has been blocked and she doesn’t even know CeeCee’s new last name.
Mia’s ex posts an embarassing video of her with morning hair and it goes viral
My response to the prompt. Not about Mia but rather my protagonist’s reaction when he phones a local restaurant for take out because he wants Brunswick stew and is told they have run out.
He hung up the phone. No Brunswick stew today? He hadn’t expected this. It was a little frustrating, but mostly it was amusing that they’d actually run out of Brunswick stew. They must have been crowded, slammed. The tourists. Why did they come here? Why did they come here in fucking droves? Why did they actually spend money to come here? People from the west coast, the Midwest, the Northeast, maybe even Europe–all of them sitting there eating Brunswick stew. Did they find it exotic?
Dwight Swain, in his book Techniques of the Selling Writer, on which Jack Bickham’s book was based, called Unicorns Motivation-Reaction Units.
That is perhaps a better term than mine!
“Now what?” thought Mia as she took one hesitant step after another down the stairs from her apartment building. She had never felt so alone. When she reached the street, she did not know which way to turn, or whether to turn at all.
She can’t beg help from the family who told her not to be too big for her britches, to stay in her lane, to marry Trent Holcolm.
“You’re too nice for the city,” her uncle Japser told her. “Especially a place full of grasping, scheming opportunists like New York.
We got good schools here. You got family here. And you got a football hero telling the world that you’re the one. You should stay home,” he said.
A decade in the urban wilds had her wondering if he was right.
She dropped to her haunches, a yoga pose she associated with balance and calm, then fell backwards onto the steps. Tears welled; then a sob.
A handcart filled with grocery bags, its small wheels rattled by each divot in the pavement, passed in front of her. The cart’s guide, a woman in old lady shoes, paused. Mia looked up into the woman’s kind eyes and sobbed even louder.
The woman backed the cart up to the steps on Mia’s left, then dropped herself on to the step on her right. “What’s the problem, honey?“ she asked.
Mia, embarrassed by her joy at this show of compassion, sat up, wiped her tears on her sleeve, and said, “I just lost my apartment.” Then, with an air of bravado, “I’ll find another.”
“Yes you will,” said the stranger. “Yes you will.” She patted Mia’s shoulder. “It’s hard to find a good place to live in this city.” She paused. “But, I stopped ‘cause it looked like more than that. I haven’t heard a howl like that outside a funeral.”
Mia’s head collapsed into her hands. “I’m a good person. I treat people nice. I bought cookies for my students! I have a PhD!!
“Nobody treats me like a grown up! What’s wrong with me??”
“Seriously. I have gone out of my way to please everyone in my life and they treat me like a child. I have a PhD and work for restaurant wages. I teach at four universities and none of them will give me a full-time placement.
“Becky Saunders graduated at the same time as me and she has tenure!!
“And my asshole ex is telling the world that I’m the reason we broke up. The guy I treated like a prince. The one who cheated on me with every available bar maid!!
She took a ragged breath. “And now they are selling my apartment out from under me. The one I couldn’t afford in the first place.” Mia’s shoulders shuddered with another sob.
“I got no cure for that,” said the woman in the old lady shoes. “Or maybe I do…”
Mia waited for the woman to go on. After a few moments of silence, she looked up, half expecting the woman to offer to sell her some drugs. A little of this would make all that sadness go away.
For the first time, Mia looked directly at the stranger. Younger by a decade than Mia had imagined, her face was harder. Meaner she thought.
“Illegitimati non carborundum”, the woman mumbled.
“I wish I could think that way,” said Mia. “I forgive people for everything. I figure they have their reasons, you know.”
The not-quite-old woman’s face darkened. “They have their reasons, okay. Me first and fuck you. The people around here are out for themselves and will step on anyone to get where they want to go.”
The bitterness hit Mia hard. It cracked open a forbidden part of her she’d long since thought she’d banished.
“Hanging on to resentment is like drinking poison and expecting the other guy to die,” her uncle used to say. “Life’s not fair, but we don’t want to live with bitterness.” Her uncle was a churchy man, and sounded worldly and kind.
This stranger, it seemed, was no stranger to bitterness. Her tone seemed to revel in resentment.
“I took it for as long as I could. I was nice, like you. I lifted them up, thinking they’d remember me when I had it tough.”
“Well, they didn’t. Not a one.”
“Which of those people who are doing so well now is offering you a leg up?”
It was a moment before Mia realized she was expected to answer.
“Now that you say it…”. Her voice trailed off as she tried to think of a single friend who’d offered help. Not even Becky Saunders, whose thesis Mia had practically written.
“Not one; not a one; no one,” Mia intoned. Then, anger rising, “Not a fucking one.”
Shaking now, this time from rage, Mia looked up at the stranger.
The woman, the hag, thought Mia, said: “Now that, I have a cure for. And it’s right here in my bag.”
Re sequels – how do we orient the reader? I can easily write a reflection in the character’s head, but in feedback groups people always want to know where she is and what she’s doing and I have to think up a basic scenario like lying in bed or sitting on the balcony. I’m never really sure how to anchor readers in a reflective scene without much action. Other than To The Lighthouse, which is awesome but also a bit beyond my current skills, do you have any other example texts which use sequels well? Thank you!
3rd scene: Mia’s horrendous day would melt away once she picks up Skip, her three-legged French bulldog she shared with her ex-fiancé. Mia called and texted her ex several times to remind him she was on her way, but he generally liked to leave her on read. Today, however, he hasn’t even done that.
No matter. She smiled as she fluffed up the pillow and the worn down fleece one last time in her car, knowing that Skip, now in his twilight years, needed the extra comfort. Mia didn’t know what she’d do without her Skippy-Beat, his nickname for the way he makes her heart skip a beat. She made her way up to her ex’s apartment building and she instinctively buzzed the third name from the second column. An unfamiliar women’s voice answered, “Hello?”
Did her ex move on? Did the new woman in his life move in? But Mia defaulted to being polite, against the sour churn in her stomach. “Hi, I’m Mia. I’m Chad’s ex. I’m just here to pick up Skip,” She cringed as she ran through the words, hoping she didn’t sound as stupid as she thought she did.
“Um, there’s no Chad here,” the voice said, already bored, and hung up.
Mia froze. Did she ring the wrong door? She scanned the intercom directory more carefully. Chad’s name was no longer there. Panic burned through her as she studied the panel over and over again.
The jackass must have moved without telling her. She tried his number again. No response. She sighed and went on her socials and unblocked him. Luckily, he hadn’t blocked her — he needed her to serve as his audience.
Scrolling through his profile, her eyes widened. He up and left to backpack through South America to “find himself” and “heal from his toxic ex”. She chewed on the inside of her cheeks, worry turning into rage. But her first and only priority was Skip.
She kept scrolling and her rage burned brighter when she found a sob post of her ex dropping off Skip at an animal shelter. She ran to her car, nearly getting run over in the process, but she couldn’t think about anything else but Skippy-beat. She found the name of the shelter in the background of the photo and googled it. She set the navigation on her phone as she started to call the shelter. There’s still hope, she tried to tell herself. She’ll pick up Skip, then kill her ex. It was simple.
When the shelter picked up, she didn’t even let them speak before she asked about her dog. The person on the other line was silent. “I’m sorry. Skip was an old dog with a lot of health problems. We found cancer everywhere and we had to put him down yesterday.”
Mia’s heart didn’t skip a beat, it just stopped.
Older bikers insulted by speedsters in lycra. — as a result, they ended up feeling defiant. So they reacted to the experience like this: “Insulted and angry, they plot revenge. Is it tacks along the trail? No…that would impact other bikers. Is it hurling polite but pointed insults? Maybe. Better yet, they vow to train; suiting up in their own Spandex suits, helmets and goggles until they are ready to take on the speedsters to show them what little old ladies can do.”
Scene Three:
Mia attends a departmental meeting at one of her universities, hoping to advocate for better conditions for all adjunct professors. She’s spent weeks preparing a careful presentation with statistics, personal testimonies, and reasonable suggestions for improvement. She’s even brought coffee and pastries, spending money she doesn’t have.
But when she arrives, she discovers the meeting has been moved to a different building without anyone notifying the adjuncts. She runs through sleet to the new location, falling and spilling her briefcase. She arrives with her now-soggy presentation materials, to find that the meeting is nearly over. She’s given two minutes to speak, half the faculty has already left and the others are checking their phones. The department chair cuts her off mid-sentence, thanks her for her “interesting thoughts,” and reminds her that budget constraints make any changes impossible this year.
As she walks back to her car, she sees her carefully prepared handouts scattered across the wet parking lot, trampled and dissolving in puddles. She starts to gather them up, then stops, realizing it’s pointless. Her hands are numb from the cold because she can’t afford to replace her worn-out gloves.
The Breaking of Mia:
Mia arrives for her morning classes where she is met by the assistant dean outside of her class telling her that she needs to report immediately to the Dean. When she asks if she can meet after her first class, she is told that she doesn’t need to worry about that because a substitute has been brought in. Mia turns and hurries down the hallway to get clarification. The principal speaks to her in a stern parental style that it has been brought to their attention that Mia had posted nude photos posted of herself and made it look like she was applying for a role in a pornographic movie. That causes the impressable to the student body that with this known behavior she would become ineffective as a instructor at this institution. Maria tries to explain that these were personal photos in a committed relationship and her ex is attempting to hurt her for breaking off the relationship, although she could not deny that those were authentic photos. She was aware that she compromised her professional reputation. She left the office, her head buzzing with a thousand different thoughts about what to do, how she could mitigate the effects, and how could Douglas be so cruel.
Sequel:
Mia tries to hold her head up without losing control and almost runs to her car. Once inside the safe confines of her car, the tears and sobbing burst from her like the opening of the dikes of Holland. Her sobbing came from someplace deep within her soul, a mixture of shame and sadness and like no pain she had ever experienced. Once at home, she dropped her bag and coat and went straight into her bedroom. As she laid in her bed sobbing and twisting in anguish. During the early months of the relationship, after they had returned home after a night at a local pub, and in an amorous mood she posed for these photos for Douglas personal pleasure. She had asked him the next day to delete them, and she trusted that he did, Now she beat herself up for trusting him. She exposed herself in a loving and affectionate way that was used against her to defile those sweet sentiments with such malicious intent.
She had turned off her phone and closed out the world and sometime after hours of sobbing and wailing her torment in her pillow and sheets, she fell into an uneasy slumber. The sun had gone down before she had the energy to pull herself from her linen prison. She headed to the living room, she couldn’t eat or bring herself to talk with any of her friends because of her anxiety and embarrassment. The thought kept repeating itself in her head; How could I have been so stupid to trust him. He said he deleted the images a few days later; but apparently, he kept them. How could he do this? She knew that their breakup was difficult, and he had been having a tough time of letting go, and he has posted negative comments about her. She thought he would get over his tantrum. He had said that he was really hurt but he said he would never hurt her, he just wanted to make her life good. She refused to continue the relationship. He didn’t understand when she said that they didn’t mix. She had said he was overbearing and controlling and lacked the motivation to make something of himself; he was satisfied to be a security guard. She needed more. He never understood why she worked so hard and didn’t just take a teaching job at a local school so they could get married and have lots of kids. He reasoned that he would be making enough money for her to quit her job and stay home and care of the kids and the house. This time, his actions weren’t just mean or petty, they might have significantly damaged her career. How could she ever show her face to her colleagues again? She allowed her body to fold into her couch where she cried so deeply like a thunderbolts cracking into pouring rain incessantly hitting a tin rooftop.
She cried herself into an unconscious state again and when she awoke it was the middle of the night. At first, her mind didn’t connect to her troubled situation and her insides felt semi normal, she even felt a little hungry. When her eyes lit upon her university briefcase and her overcoat just thrown over top of the corner chair, it all came back to her. This time instead of sadness, she began to feel anger at the behavior of Douglas. She looked around and remembered her apartment was terminating the lease at the end of the month to turn the place into condos; her anger level rose. She had always tried to maintain her cool and treat people with kindness and compassion, but she couldn’t deal with the betrayal of everyone around her, even her coworkers never invited her into their groups.
She got off the couch and walked over to her desk and opened the drawer where she had placed the card of that psychic she visited a few weeks back. She remembered the women, Madame Silk had offered her a special amulet that she could use that would connect her with other worldly powers to fight on her behalf against all these people who are presenting problems for her. Madame Silk had promised her that these people would feel that wrath of the gods and would never cause her any problems again. Almost in a unconscious state she dialed the number and almost immediately she heard Madame Silk say, Hello Mia. And without hesitation she said she was ready to get that magical amulet to destroy the people who ruined her life. She hung up, not realizing this was the first step in the selling of her soul……end scene
Magda turns up the song on the radio, briefly called back to that night with Dominik. His chest, warm against her back…
Then Pavel’s text inserts itself into the reverie, completely spoiling it. “DeDe’s going to come on the train with me and Danny, after all.” It could not be more DeDe. The whole family, actually, is acting totally *on brand.* Including Magda.
She shakes her hair out and turns the knob up again. Well, she gets the whole car to herself. She can control the music. And she can leave the lake whenever she wants. She won’t have to wait for the kids to pack, or pee, or have a last temper tantrum. And DeDe and Pavel can bond on the train all they want, after they clean up the cabin. Magda will have to get back early to return the car, won’t she, so they’re on their own. Just the way DeDe likes it.
Wasn’t clear that this was meant to be about Mia… but the exercise worked well for something the MMC from my novel has to deal with… an evening out ruined by his PTSD. His self-doubt is wrapped in a lot of anger…
“As soon as they got home, Roc fled to his room. It was a major effort to close the door quietly behind himself instead of slamming it as he started berating himself for blowing his chance with Meggie with his stupid weakness. Even after five months back home, he still couldn’t go out for dinner like a normal person. He couldn’t even tell Meggie the truth of why he’d had to pull over and ask her to drive them back home. Instead of admitting he’d had yet another flashback, he’d fed her some lie about a sudden migraine. At least this time, he hadn’t scared the bejesus out of her when it happened. Still, what’d he even have to offer her? He was fucking broken, and all the stupid breathing exercises and therapy didn’t change that. His brain had finally clocked he was back home, not in Afghanistan, but his muscles were still vibrating from the adrenaline rush. Why’d he have to say he had a migraine? Now he couldn’t even go for a run so he could feel better…”
Flatmate criticised the dishes not being “done right” which got my FMC defiant…
“Not a problem. I’ll show you how,” Roc said as he started filling the sink with hot water. He then wordlessly moved the dishes from the drying rack over to the far side of the sink and stacked them neat piles.
Meggie stared at him slack-jawed, glad his back was turned and he couldn’t see her face. Did he even hear himself?! For a moment, she contemplated if she should go for a sarcastic answer or pretend to be stupid, but then her annoyance kicked in. He could do the dishes to his stupid highfalutin’ military standard and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine for all she cared!
Before she said something she’d only regret later, she high-tailed it out of the kitchen and the house, grabbing her car keys on the way out. “Not tonight! I’m already running late.” In her hurry, she forgot about the the draft from the open French doors, and the front door slammed shut with a bang. She cringed at the noise but didn’t stop to apologise.
Not clean enough, my ass! She’d been doing her own dishes for years, and the occasional bit of food dried on them hadn’t killed her. She’d either just scratch it off or put the plate in the sink to soak again. He could learn to deal with life in the real world.
As she got in her car, she noticed she was still wearing her crocs, but she still didn’t go back inside. She wouldn’t give Mr. I-am-so-fucking-perfect the satisfaction of saying “I told you so” for a third time that day. With a sigh, she started the car and pulled into the road with no idea where she’d go or how she’d spend the evening. But with the empty fuel gauge, it probably wouldn’t be far. In her hurry to leave, she’d left her purse and phone in her room as well. She drove one block, pulled to the side of the road and dug through the ashtray that was mostly filled with seashells and empty gum wrappers. At last, she found the emergency $20 bill she’d stashed in the back corner last payday. Ha! Enough to get some gas and a pie and coke she could eat by the beach. She’d probably stay there until the sun went down, instead of watching Mr Anal-retentive’s ”proper dishes” demonstration. Maybe having his hands in the hot water would relax him a little. He could certainly do with that.
I’m going to keep the idea of *naming* my character’s emotional response before I write the sequel section. That part of the exercise helped me slow down the sequel and dwell on my character’s response a bit more, rather than rushing through their thoughts, feelings and actions.
That sounds fantastic!