Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook (24 page)

____EXERCISE

Inner Turning Points

Step 1: Choose any turning point in your story other than the climax. Who is the point-of-view character?

Step 2: Wind the clock back ten minutes. How does this character feel about himself at this earlier moment?

Step 3: Write a paragraph in which you delineate this character's state of mind or state of being at this earlier moment. Start writing now.

Step 4:
Now write a paragraph in which you delineate this character's state of mind or state of being ten minutes
after
the turning point.
Start writing now.

Step
5: Use the material you generated in the steps above to pull together a single paragraph detailing this character's inner transition at this moment. As a starting point, try this framework:
Ten minutes before, she had been . . . but now everything was different. Now she was . . .

Follow-up work: Find six more inner turning points to delineate in your novel, and repeat the steps above for each.

Conclusion:
Most fiction writers carefully research such story elements as their novel's settings, their characters' professions, and whatever else makes the world of their novel real. However, few fiction writers do emotional research; that is, finding out how real-life human beings think and feel in the circumstances that occur in the novel. Is your hero shot at? How does that really feel? Ask a cop. Does your heroine get a makeover? Do its effects last? Interview a makeover artist. What does it feel like to be a child? Find out from a five-year-old. Psychology texts are useful, but real experience is best.

High Moments

I
don't know about you, but I love it when a novel makes me suddenly suck in my breath and go, "Oh!" I shake my head and lower the book for a second, admiring what the author has just made happen. These are the high moments, when the story soars above itself and awes or inspires me in some way.

How are such effects achieved? It is simpler than you might think. Indeed, there are certain types of story events that are, if not guaranteed, at least more likely to produce eye-widening reactions. What are they? Check out some examples.

The morality tales of novelist Jodi Picoult show us the best and worst in contemporary humanity. Notice that I mention the "best." Many fiction writers revel in what is wrong with us; Picoult is generous in showing us also what is right.

In my earlier discussions of
Salem Falls,
I noted that Picoult employs a large cast of point-of-view characters. One major point of view belongs to Addie Peabody, the proprietor of the town lunch counter, Do-Or-Diner. At the novel's outset, Addie has two main problems: her alcoholic father, Roy, and her unwanted wooing by the town sheriff, Wes Courtemanche. These two problems converge one day when Wes locks up Roy for drunken driving: Roy was, Addie learns, motoring a lawn mower to a liquor store.

Picoult uses this incident to demonstrate Addie's forcefulness, Roy's intrac-tableness, and, most important, Wes's wisdom. Addie, who doesn't need the extra problem of Roy's arrest, confronts Wes:

"I think you've done enough, Wes. I mean, gosh, you arrested a man joyriding on a lawn mower. Surely they'll give you a Purple Heart or something for going to such extremes to ensure public safety."

"Now, just a second. I
was
ensuring safety . . .
Roy's.
What if a truck cut the curve too tight and ran him down? What if he fell asleep at the wheel?"

"Can I just take him home now?"

West regarded her thoughtfully. It made Addie feel like he was sorting through her mind, opening up certain ideas and shuffling aside others. She closed her eyes.

"Sure," Wes said. "Follow me."

In this passage, Picoult is up to more than just painting a warm picture of small-town tolerance in the form of an Andy Taylor-style sheriff. Later in the novel, Wes will be caught in the middle of a relentless witch-hunt aimed at Addie's love interest, Jack St. Bride. Wes's conflict—whether to crush his rival, Jack, or to be true to the principles of justice as evidence of Jack's innocence grows—is beautifully prepared in this early moment of small forgiveness. We now know that Wes is, essentially, a decent man, and, when his actions later become hard and unfair, we will not forget.

Forgiveness, in fiction as in life, is powerfully redemptive, even when, as here, the forgiving act is small and everyday. Acts of forgiveness create high moments because they elevate the characters who forgive—and so elevate us all. There are larger moments of forgiveness to come in Picoult's complex novel. She knows that the human spirit can be as generous as it can be mean, and she shows us that spirit at work.

Salem Falls
also contains an example of another type of high moment. The novel's protagonist, ex-convict Jack St. Bride, finds work washing dishes in Addie's diner. One day he finds Addie's father, Roy, drinking in the basement food storage area when he should be manning the cash register. Jack takes pity on Roy and decides not to alert Addie, then takes his protectiveness a step further:

"Have you seen my father?" Addie demanded, hurrying into the kitchen. "We've got a line a mile long at the cash register."

Delilah shrugged. "He's not here or I'd have tripped over him. Jack, you see Roy in the basement?"

Jack shook his head but he didn't meet Addie's eye. Then, with impeccably lousy timing, Roy sauntered through the basement door. His face was glowing, and even from across the room Jack could smell the cheap alcohol on his breath.

Addie's face went bright red. Tension filled the confines of the kitchen, and Jack tried to ignore the fact that someone was going to say something any moment that he or she would regret. Words, he knew, could scar.

So he squeezed the base of the potato he was peeling, then watched it fly in an arc over his shoulder toward the grill. Then, taking a deep breath, he grabbed for it, deliberately pressing his palm to the burning plate of metal.

The distraction that Jack creates with this small, if painful, act of self-sacrifice does indeed distract Addie from the hurtful outburst that she was getting ready

to let loose. The moment passes quickly, but the effect of Jack's self-sacrifice lingers through the rest of the novel. It is a high moment made of humble elements: a drunk, a dishwasher, a slippery peeled potato, and a hot grill. Picoult knows that self-sacrifice does not have to be grand to be good.

Creating an effective reversal of direction for a character may be a matter not so much of sending him down a new road, but of convincing the reader that it is a road this character would never go down in the first place. Earlier I mentioned Erica Spindler's
Cause for Alarm,
in which a triangle is set up in the novel's backstory. Kate, Richard, and Luke were good friends in college. Unfortunately, both Richard and Luke loved Kate. Even worse, Kate slept with Luke the night before accepting Richard's proposal of marriage. As you can imagine, Luke is bitter.

Ten years later, Richard is a successful lawyer who is planning to run for public office. Kate owns a New Orleans coffee cafe on Lake Ponchartrain. They have adopted a daughter. Luke, meanwhile, has become a best-selling author. One day, missing her friendship with Luke, Kate attends Luke's book signing at the Tulane University bookstore. They talk, but the conversation is a disaster. Luke still can't believe Kate accepted Richard's proposal, especially since at the time Richard had recently dropped Kate yet again, for yet another blonde. Kate tries to explain: