And now to style, the beast that's as elusive as it's present in everything we write. I'm still trying to determine what my style is, and from what I've read so far, it's how I tell the story in its bones, not trying to tell it some special way but simply telling it as is. That's when my style comes out. I used to try very hard to be ornate and whimsical and poetic (Siren Suicides), then I tried to be witty and sarcastic (Rosehead), then blunt and brutal (Irkadura), then funny again (The Badlings), and so now in TUBE I have slashed all of this trying and concentrated on simply telling a story.

Many times I'd be frustrated to the point of tears when I would see in my head exactly what I wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come out simple enough. I was trying too hard. Slowly a pattern emerged. I started noticing certain turns of phrases or pairings of words in the other novels I've read, and I started collecting them in a little file, and that little file grew and grew, and then I began categorizing it into chunks applicable to particular novel, so glance at later, while I was in the middle of writing and got frustrated and needed inspiration. Below are the truncated (they are very long in the original file) paragraphs as I use them in the Style sheet for TUBE (note, these are not my words but words taken from other books, and it's impossible now for me to pinpoint the exact sources):

PHRASES:

Tension knotted in his stomach, a hood of gray gauze slipper over her eyes, hectic stripes of color blazed against the cottage-cheese color of her face, a terrible white static filled her head, fear struck like a sandbag hurled at his chest, she let loose a high, primal yell; her temples began to pound thickly, there was a staticky noise in her head, the blood sang high and wild in her head, her heart turned over, a bubble of tension rose in his throat, the look on his face is tight, closed; the eyes beam into whatever they touch, her mouth is pinched, he fell into step beside him, the wellspring of anger erupts, his eyes feel as if they have sunk back into his head, a solid wall of pain is packed into his lungs, her lips fold in, she pulls in her breath, she dropped one dry kiss on her temple, sweat started out of her armpits, she gave him a swift clout round the ear, his damp shirt pressed cold across his back, he gleaned her face, catatonic with disgust;

TRAIN: 

A gust swept out of the tunnel's murky depths, the station slid into view, the train chuffed and jerked forward, a gray boiling sky and a bitter wind, a frozen swampy field with puddles of ice, houses in varying states of disrepair, the train halted with a great sigh of steam, the shattering slam of the door, huge airy flakes sizzle away to nothing, the fog of their breath hung around them, the air has a raciness to it, the door gave the report of a gun, a sort of breathlessness that empty spaces have, there was nothing to keep out the darkness, the black void of winter, little metallic voices emanated from that little metallic square, room’s plush quiet, the sound that seems to begin before the sound itself has started, a moving wall of great light, the sound clattered back into the car, the train swung around the curve, dirt was flying everywhere in the air in the white gale sudden and violent, a scream of locking brakes climbed to a fine peak of metallic hysteria then abruptly dropped away as the train rushed through;

BALLET: 

She dropped a curtsy, a pass for the dress rehearsal, the hall was filled to the rafters, the curtain began to sway then floated upward, raising a cloud of dust, the crush at the coat check, barely audible strains of music, burnished tone of cello, to arch and sweep and bow toward the mirror, music and silence became confused, turns its head haltingly, between humanness and dollhood, scrim lights, she told us we danced like fifty-year-old arthritics, it put her into a dancing rage, she had a painted face of a celluloid doll, weed out as many dancers as possible, her body had a porcelain glow, the muscles of her back and rear scalloped under her leotard, the opening strains of the music swell and the curtain rises, resin-covered floor, rub arnica gel on my bunions, six barres are arranged in the center of the studio, hips and knees pop and crack during pliés, the floor is sprung and layered with linoleum, he lifts her in a press over his head;

RUSSIA:

The attic was crammed with years of castoffs, chairs with split seats, speckled chifforobe mirror, “Pull the door to, you jerk! There's a draft here!”, a fine piece of skirt, crushing disapproval, smash your face in, leave the shit alone and it won't stink, apoplectic with rage, cretins and rogues, auntie, a plait from neck to ass, 'spike' two parts beer and one part vodka, filthy beasts, lily-white boy, padded waistcoat, compatriots, on the turf between the bushes was the red of the wild strawberry, birch-wood, fluky weather, nettle-rash, raspberry thicket, the wild strawberry stretched its pink tendrils, hareskin coat, mustard-plaster to be applied, great fat lout, folding cot, meat patties with potatoes, worthless nonentity, "Why are you standing there with your eyes bugging out?", spineless idiot, bald patches and boulders, stand-up cafeteria, forcemeat, “What are they, asleep in there?”, hand-embroidered bedspread, stiff nylon bows in her hair;

INSULTS: 

Old dogfart, turdhead, you little tramp, here you come hauling ass, you do what you’re told, go sniff after that silly cunt, he’s a pig, you come here this minute, you better be sorry, use your head, don’t act smart with me, are you playing games with me, Christ on a bike, fucking piece of shit bastard lying scum, cocksucker, vicious little scrote, gonna get your head broke, noisy little clit-tease, “Jesus, Joseph, and Mary, I swear to fuck,” take a flying fuck at the moon, drizzling shits, I will tear your goddamn shit brains out, unmitigated bullshit, cocksucker, well God fucking shit, awfully uppity little bitch, you dickless (shameless, worthless, selfish, lying, two-faced, stuffy) piece of shit (sack of shit, son of a bitch), ignorant as living hell, a pissant little fuck, I’m gonna kick the (every living) shit outta you;

Oh, almost forgot. Characters! Characters is another big category that I've created in Scrivener, every one with their own folder. I'll include here the structure I use for planning my characters, and you will also see it in the Scrivener template that I will link below so you can download it. Yes, imagine, it's finally done.

FACTS: HERO (or whoever it is, according to the Hero's Journey character types, like SHADOW or SHAPSHIFTER, for example):

• Name
• Age
• Gender
• Job
• Birthday
• Birth place

1ST DIMENSION / LOOK:

• Appearance (face, hair, body, special features/oddities)
• Surface character traits, quirks, habits

2ND DIMENSION / EMOTION:

• Inner world
• Reasons for appearance
• Surface character traits, quirks, habits

3RD DIMENSION / ACTION:

• Choices made under pressure
• True personality under appearance and inner world

4TH DIMENSION / HISTORY:

• Backstory that drives choices made under pressure
• Inner demons, conflicts
• Worldview, goals, motivations

CHARACTER ARC:

• ACT 1: Weakness
• ACT 1: Aware of weakness
• ACT 2a: Denies weakness
• ACT 2a: Angry at weakness
• ACT 2b: Bargains against weakness
• ACT 2b: Sad because of weakness
• ACT 3: Accepts weakness
• ACT 3: No weakness

STAKES: 

• Wants to do this, needs to to this
• If doesn’t do this, will lose this

PLOTS: ACTION, CHARACTER, PLOT 1, PLOT 2 (just a list of plots this character is in)

RELATIONSHIPS: 

• Partner/partners
• Mother
• Father
• Siblings/relatives
• Friends
• Enemies

DOWNLOAD MY NOVEL SCRIVENER TEMPLATE.

 

Or email me if the download doesn't work for you or some reason. It will probably change, my template, as I keep using it. So I'll post the updated versions in the future, if you will so desire. Also, if you have any questions about the template, ask them here, so I can refer folks to this post in case they're asking the same questions (which happens often).

Onward.