Larry Brooks - Story Engineering

As a bit of a cynic a result of actually having worked in the writing business I asked myself if the world really needs another book about writing. Another how-to from an author who, frankly, isn't exactly a household name. A quick Google search reveals there are 128,000,000 available resources on the subject of how to write a book. (It also provides 1,380,000 hits on my name, but even after five published novels I'm not kidding myself.)

Maybe 128,000,001 won't make that much difference either way.

Unless, perhaps, it offers something original, clarifying, and empowering for writers who are tired of hearing the same old thing delivered in the same old inaccessible, rhetoric-clouded way. A new twist on the old language about storytelling. Something that cuts across all genres and categories, from novels and screenplays to memoirs, articles, and even essays.

I understand guys like Dean Koontz and David Morrell and Stephen King doing it. My guess is (and here's the cynic in me) that it was their publisher's idea, hoping to cash in on the abundant name equity of those authors. Having read a bunch of these books myself, never once have I found a writing book or workshop that cuts to the core issues of the craft in a completely clear and accessible way (maybe it can't be done, maybe writing will always remain an elusive avocation) and that actually delivers a development model and process based on accepted criteria for effective storytelling.

Or, more clearly stated: a writing book that shows storytellers what to write, where to put it, and why it works there without any of it being remotely formulaic.

Elusive or not, that's not asking too much.

The trouble is, in their execution stories are every bit as engineering driven as they are artistic in nature. And that particular context of learning gets next to no coverage in the oeuvre of writing instruction.

Writing teachers of all types will eagerly tell you what needs to be done your story needs heart we need to experience the journey of the hero you need pacing and crisp prose but few offer anything about how you get it done and in what order it needs to happen, step by excruciating step. Mostly their instruction is about theories and aesthetic sensibilities, all valid, while delivering less than precise advice. Even Stephen King, an author whom I respect, suggests in his book On Writing that once you stumble upon the seed of an idea, you should just sit down and start writing a story about it. That the first draft is for you and the subsequent drafts are for someone else.

Right. Just take off with it and see where it takes you. As if what you'd write for yourself is somehow less critical or not subject to the harsh light of analysis or the standards of solid storytelling that apply to everyone else. As if making stories up without a clue how to write them well will somehow satisfy your artistic jones.

Where that takes you is back to the drawing board.

But it doesn't have to be that way. Unless you are a master of the form, function, and criteria for successful storytelling and King certainly is this is a highly inefficient and, therefore, ineffective way to write your story. When it comes to storytelling, pain is optional. When it comes to selling your story, though, pain is inevitable but that's another book altogether.

King's approach known as organic writing or, in some circles, pantsing (for seat-of-the-pants storytelling) may actually work for some, but that's only if a) you know what you're doing to the extent that you don't need to plan out your story; b) you somehow stumble upon the proper structural sequence and intuitively meet all the criteria for the various essential components; and c) you're willing to complete the inevitable rewrites that come with writing without a story plan. And yet, this is the default approach for nearly every new writer and a startling percentage of established ones, published and nonpublished alike. Some actually