Story Scientist

Have you ever heard the phrase, “Life is like a roller coaster”? Well, I don’t know about you, but I’ve only ever gone on one roller coaster ride, and I was absolutely shaken after the fact. In the wake of twisting at a 360 degree angle and being tossed around with only a one-inch wide steel bar ten centimeter away from my abdomen to keep me from falling into oblivion, the only thing I could do was pant, breath like never before.

The truth is, Disneyland doesn’t offer the best roller-coaster out there, neither does magic mountain and neither does Universal Studios. The poets probably all agree with me when I say that life is the most tumultuous, gut-spilling, mind-boggling, 360-degree flip-you-in-the-air roller coaster out there. The only difference is, this one isn’t that which you buy tickets for and choose to go on with sound mind and body. Usually, the seatbelts wrap around you like the strong arms of fate, strapping you, as you kick your legs in protest, to your terribly exciting destiny. That’s not a once-in-a-lifetime experience. That’s just life. And what is story, if not an imitation of life?

Fascimile, meaning exact copy, usually of a written work. Story is a fascimile of life.

Stories are infinitely more potent, powerful, addictive and to be frank, realistic when they’re packed with 90-degree drops and 180-degree digresses. The life of your protagonist is the seat. You, as the writer, are the track, deciding their trajectory. The plot is the drops and dips in the track. And the story, my friend, is in their screaming.

That is the magic ingredient to transforming your novel, scene by scene, conversation by conversation, character-epiphany by character-epiphany. Ever scene in your novel must follow a single rule: roller-coaster. One stagnant emotion simply cannot sustain a novel, or even five pages of it. Every page of your book simply cannot only be painted blue with sadness or yellow with happiness. Why? Every high and every low derives it magnitude from the dip or the rise. How low you were before defines how high you’ve reached now. Your job, as a writer, is to keep switching back and forth, like steering a roller coaster manually, between happiness and sadness, anger and joy, anxiety and hope, etc. Every scene must veer between a multitude of emotions. Let’s look at an example. This here is an excerpt from Cress, The Lunar Chronicles. I will only be adding in the dialogue, so it will be in screenplay format.

1:

Kai: I can’t believe you kidnapped me! We’re on a spaceship Cinder, in space! I can’t be on a spaceship. I have a country to run. I have people who need me. We are on ther verge of a war. Do you understand that? War. Where people die. I cannot be up here, messing around with your band of misfits! Do you even know that you are housing one of her mutants up there?

Cinder: Oh, yeah. That’s Wolf. He’s harmless. Well, not harmless..

Kai: (Deliriously laughs) I can’t–how could–what were you thinking?

Cinder: (Muttering) You’re welcome

Kai: (Glowering) Take me back to Earth

Cinder: I can’t do that

Kai: Cinder… (Huffs, then softens, just slightly). As someone who understands why you did this, and admires your ability to actually accomplish it, I am pleading with you. Cinder. Please. Take me back.

Cinder: No

Kai: (The softness vanishes) When did you become so frustrating? Fine! As your emperor, I command you to return me to Earth immediately.

Cinder: Kai…your majesty, you may recall that I’m lunar. And lunars are forbidden from being granted citizenship in the Eastern Commonwealth. Therefore…you’re no longer my emperor.

Kai: This isn’t a joke.

Cinder: You have no idea how seriously I’m taking this.

Kai: Are you? Do you even know what the consequences are going to be for what you’ve done?

Cinder: Yes, actually. I know this is a war. I am aware that more people are going to die before this is over. But we didn’t have a choice.

Kai: Your choice was to stay out of the way! Your choice was to do nothing! This is my job, my responsibility. I’m the emperor. Let me handle it.

Cinder: By letting you marry her? (The lunar queen, Levana, PS: she is the most evil little snake ever) That’s handling it?

Kai: It’s my decision.

Cinder: It’s a stupid one!

Kai: (Clawing his hands into his hair, stopping, dipping his head back, facing back to her, his voice strained) Please. Please tell me this isn’t some…petty act of jealosy. Please tell me this isn’t all because I asked you to the ball, or that time in the elevator, or–

Cinder: Oh, you can’t be serious. I hope you don’t really think so little of me.

Kai: You shot me cinder, and then you kidnapped me. I honestly don’t know what to think.

Cinder: Well believe it or not, we didn’t just do this for you. We’re trying to save the whole world from your power-crazy fiancee. I refuse to let Levana become empress. I refuse to give her free rein over the Commonwealth. But we need more time.

Kai: More time for what? All you’ve done is make her angrier, so that when she realizes, her wrath is going to be that much worse. Was that a part of your master plan, or are you just making this up as you go along?

Cinder: (Swallowing, hard) I have a plan, to end this for good. But I need your help.

Kai: Cinder. I hare Levana as much as you do. But she’s the one pulling the strings here. She has this army…it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Those little skirmishes that killed sixteen thousand people a couple weeks ago? Luaghable compared to what she’s really capable of. Plus she has an antitude to letumosis, and we desperately need it–you know how much we need it. So while the idea of marrying Levana and crowning her empress makes me want to gouge out my own eyes, I don’t have a choice.

Cinder: Gouge out your own eyes? She could make you do that, you know. (For context, Levana has mind-manipulation powers, like other lunars, although hers are most powerful)

Kai: (Expression darkening) So could you, I’m told.

Cinder: (Looking away) Kai–your majesty–

Kai: (Waving) Kai is fine. I don’t care.

Cinder: (Biting her lip) You have to trust me. We can defeat her. I know we can,

Kai: How? Even if…let’s say you did. Let’s say you managed to kill her. There’s still a whole posse of thaumaturges ready to take her place, and from what I’ve seen, they’re not much better.

Cinder: We’ll choose the person to replace her. We…already have her replacement, actually.

Kai: Ah, I see. Because you think Lunar people will bow to just any…one…(Eyes wideneing) Unless…wait. You don’t mean…?

Cinder: (Looks at the floor)

Kai: (Takes a step towards her) Did you find her? Princess Selene? Is that what this is all about? (Context, princess Selene is the lost princess of Luna, rumored to have been murdered by Levana when she was 11 so she could take her sister’s throne.)

Cinder: (Fiddling with the pliers in her pocket)

Kai: Cinder?

Cinder: Yeah. I found her.

Kai: Is it that blonde girl?

Cinder: (Shakes her head)

Kai: The girl from France? What was her name…Scarlet something?

Cinder: No. Not scarlet.

Kai: Then where is she? Is she on this ship? Can I meet her? Or is she still on Earth somewhere? Is she in hiding? (Frowns, when she doesn’t answer) What’s wrong? Is she all right?

Cinder: I have to ask you something, and I want you to be honest.

Kai: (His eyes narrow)

Cinder: Do you really think I brainwashed you before? When we met? And all those times, before the ball…

Kai: (His shoulders drop) Really? You’re changing the subject to talk about this?

Cinder: It’s important to me. (Turns away, and starts arranging the tools on the table) I understand if you do. I know how it must have looked.

Kai: I don’t know. I never wanted to believe it, but I’ve had to wonder. And when you fell, and I saw your glamour…Cinder, do you have any idea how beautiful your glamour is?

Cinder: (Cringing) No. I can’t see it.

Kai: Well it’s…it was a lot to take in that night. But then, Levana has manipulated me plenty of times, so I know what it feels like. And it never felt like that with you. (Pauses) Ofcourse, that’s what the media wants to hink that’s what happened. It would be so convenient.

Cinder: Right. (Glances at him over her shoulder) A convenient excuse for inviting a cyborg to the ball.

Kai: (Blinking) For inviting a lunar to the ball.

Cinder: Not that it makes a difference what I say, but…I never did. Manipulate you, I mean. And I never will. (Hesitating) And I did try to tell you about being Cyborg. I mean, kind of. I’m sure I considered it at least twice.

Kai: No. You were right before. If you’d told me, I probably never would have spoken to you again. Although, I like to think I would act differently now. (Pause) Cinder. Look. I am glad I’m not married right now, but this was still a huge mistake. I can’t risk angering Levana. Whatever you’re planning, you have to leave me out of it.

Cinder: I can’t I need your help.

Kai: (Sighing, shaking his head) You think Selene can overthrow her.

Cinder: I do.

Kai: Then I hope she intends to do it soon.

Cinder: (Nervously) Kai, she may not be exactly what you were hoping for. I don’t want you to be dissappointed. I know you put a lot into trying to find her and–

Kai: Why? What’s wrong with her.

Cinder: Well. She was rescued from the fire, but it destroyed a lot of her body. She lost some limbs. And a lot of her skin had to be grafted. And…she’s just not…entirely whole.

Kai: What do you mean? Is she in a coma?

Cinder: Not anymore. (Bracing herself) She’s a cyborg.

Kai: (Eyes widening, then adjusting back) I see. But…is she all right?

Cinder: Oh yeah, she’s great. I mean, half the people in the wolrd want to kill her and the other half want to chain her to a throne on the moon, which is just what she’s always wanted, so she’s fantastic.

Kai: (Staring) What?

Cinder: (Shutting her eyes, looking at the ceiling, trying to bury her panic, opening them again and looking at him) It’s me, Kai. I’m princess Selene.

End scene

I could read that scene over and over again and never get tired of it. It’s flawless and emotionally packed due to many reasons. But I want you to notice one thing. Notice how the conversation first starts off with Kai being explosively angry and freaking out, and Cinder being sarcastic and trying to play it cool? Then, you watch as Kai shifts drastically to a more vulnerable, pleading state, and Cinder’s armor drops almost instantly. Notice how this shift between agitation and solemnity veers more than twice? Then finally, how Kai jumps back to excitement, and Cinder’s sarcasm turns to panic? Notice how they go from coming at each other’s throats to having the closest thing they can to a love confession within thirty seconds? Here’s a graph of their emotional trajectory (Cinder is the red line and Kai is the blue one):

Immediately, you can see the winding, bending and thrilling path this emotional roller coaster takes. It’s shifting from one extreme to the next. It’s not the saddest or happiest scene that is most powerful. It is the scene with the strongest shift of tone, the strongest epiphany, the strongest left turn, leaving the audience speechless and catching them by surprise. This is what multiplies the power of a scene tenfold, and chains the reader to their seat. Try it with me. Here’s a scene about a soilder returning home after a long voyage, written in first person, before and after revision. Dig out any scene of your own. The goal here is to find opportunities where you can shift the mood, then quickly change it back.

Before:

Home has always been somewhere between land and water, along the coastline. Far enough that I could see the endless waves of ocean for miles ahead, and close enough that if I craned my neck far enough I could see the island on the horizon. Now, with the orange sun glistening off the crippled waves, I drifted in limbo, somewhere between the island and ever-after. I drifted homeward.

There they were, purple shirts, brown skirts, black braids skirting around her little heels. Glowing brown hands, shining in the warm afterglow of the storm, stretched out, waving. My family.

As the boat edged closer to the shore, thudding lightly against the rocks, shifting sand, they sprinted down a dune. In fleets.

“Ma!” I cried out, stumbling out of the canoe, my heels digging into the sand. Instantly I felt the wrongness, I slipped, hands and knees. Strong were the arms that reached down, bundling me up like a fur-quilt, pressing me into a narrow, petite chest.

She smothered me with kisses. All over my face, coating me pink with the fruity tint on her lips. “Ma,” I whispered, over and over. “Ma…”

After:

Home has always been somewhere between land and water, along the coastline. Far enough that I could see the endless waves of ocean for miles ahead, loosing myself at sea like I lost my coins. Like I lost my treasures, like I lost my friends. One by one, drowning, slipping off the starboard. Now, with the orange sun glistening off the crippled waves, thrashing against my flimsy, cedar boat, I drifted in limbo.

It was all over me. In my hair, in my clothes. The smell of blood, oozing from my fresh cut, wrapped in a messy white bandage around my hand. And God…

God, the ocean looked beautiful.

And I didn’t deserve it one bit.

A yell, something cutting through the waves. Low, distant, but sharp, high-pitched.

Delighted.

I whipped my head around, shaking the tears out of my forehead. I squinted, the sun glinting off the shore. There was a line of sand. There were trees. There were boulders covered in algae. And there was movement. Purple and bright, brown-skinned and on her toes, waving wildly. Not just her, many more.

There they were, purple shirts, brown skirts, black braids skirting around her little heels. Glowing brown hands, shining in the warm afterglow of the storm, stretched out arms. I felt a rush in the pit of my stomach. I felt the canoe flopping under me, dragging me back into the water. The sounds of the waves drowned out, cursing at me to listen. I couldn’t listen. I couldn’t hear anything, or feel anything. Nothing but her voice, shouting, then trailling off, her chest heaving, her stance relaxing.

My canoe crashed against the shore, rocking back and forth. She froze, shaking. I froze, shaking. The canoe kept rocking, refusing to move further. Back, and forth, stare back, keep staring, back and forth. Like a noose tightening around my neck and hers.

And then the noose snapped.

“Ma!” I cried out, stumbling out of the canoe, my heels digging into the sand. Instantly I felt the wrongness, I slipped, hands and knees. Strong were the arms that reached down, bundling me up like a fur-quilt, pressing me into a narrow, petite chest.

She smothered me with kisses. All over my face, coating me pink with the fruity tint on her lips. “Ma,” I whispered, over and over. “Ma…”