8 Things Writers Can Learn from Mary Poppins

By Gary Fearon

Richard M. Sherman and his brother Robert B. Sherman may not be household names, but the story songs they wrote are beloved worldwide via Walt Disney films and parks, including what they considered their crowning glory, Mary Poppins. Along with their Oscar-winning score, the Shermans were key players in developing the story structure.

Last Tuesday, June 12th, was Richard M. Sherman's 90th birthday. In his honor, here are eight things all writers can learn from the prolific songwriting team Walt himself affectionately referred to as "the boys".

COMBINE USEABLE IDEAS

There are eight books in the Mary Poppins series. Scenes and concepts from different books were brought together to create a storyline for the classic 1964 screenplay. Are there any ideas you've  put aside that could find a new home in your latest work?

FIND THE REAL STORY

The magical English nanny had many colorful adventures, but Richard & Robert determined that these episodes had no character arcs and weren't enough to carry a story. They convinced Disney that Mary's employers should be distracted parents who rediscover the joy of childhood along with their children. Once a moral was chosen, the adventures took on a common purpose.

COME UP WITH A NEW TWIST

For Mary's signature song, the Shermans wanted to give her a clever proverb, like "An apple a day..." or "A stitch in time..."  The end result ("A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down") was inspired by Robert's young son, whose school had administered a polio vaccine placed on sugar cubes for easier consumption. You never know what phrase you write could become an instant classic.

SECONDARY CHARACTERS ARE PEOPLE TOO

In the books, Bert was only a minor character, a street artist known as The Match Man. He has much more prominence in the film, and his role as a chimney sweep was borrowed from a different character in the P.L. Travers series. Bert was given a presence and personality strong enough to be a companion for Mary Poppins. His equally charismatic signature song, "Chim Chim Chiree", won the 1965 Oscar for Best Original Song.

PICK THE RIGHT TIME PERIOD

The Shermans moved the story from the depression-era 1930s to the more hopeful turn of the century. Setting the story in 1910 London also allowed them to develop one character into a suffragette. Speaking of whom...

RISE TO THE CHALLENGE

Actress Glynnis Johns thought she had been cast to get the title role of Mary Poppins, only to learn that Julie Andrews had already been enlisted to play the title role. Walt appeased her by assuring her that the Shermans had written an especially great song just for her to sing. In truth, it wasn't even a thought up to that point. But Richard and Robert picked up the gauntlet and delivered a big and brassy number to give her lesser character a chance to shine.

SAVE SOME THINGS FOR A RAINY DAY

The Shermans wrote 32 songs for possible inclusion in Mary Poppins, but only 14 were used when Walt declared the rest "unnecessary" for the story. Some were repurposed in later Disney features including Bedknobs and Broomsticks and The Jungle Book.

CLOSE THE DOOR

The Sherman brothers avoided distractions like the plague. When it was time to write, they shut out the world around them to concentrate on the project at hand. 

In everything they wrote, Richard and Robert believed that story always comes first. By adopting that same focus, we can give our writing a little extra magic that is practically perfect in every way.

The Magic Mirror

by Gary Fearon, Southern Writers Magazine

When Romper Room (1953-1994) was on the air, each region did its own version of this kiddie show using a local TV host. Mine had "Miss Jean." I remember little about the show itself beyond its signature segment that always began with these words:

Romper, Bomper, Stomper, Boo
Tell me, tell me, tell me, do
Magic Mirror, tell me today
Have all my friends had fun at play?

After this incantation, each regional host would look at the camera and recite the first names of a handful of children in her viewing audience ("I see Jimmy, and I see Cindy..."). Presumably these were the kids whose parents had written in on their behalf. Maybe she supplemented with random names for good measure. Even at my young age I considered that possibility, though it was still a mild thrill when she happened to speak my name, and for that moment it did feel a bit magical.

Spreading similar joy to the other end of the age spectrum, weatherman Willard Scott took it a step further on The Today Show when he would congratulate someone on their 90th or 100th birthday and show their photo (brought to you by Smucker's). No doubt these nonagenarians and centenarians got much the same thrill as Romper Room's pre-schoolers did at the mention of their name, age and city.

These simple factoids delivered from stranger to stranger are often our own starting point when we're creating characters for our story. We typically begin with the standard details like their name; we have a general sense of their age, and we place them in some setting. But, like Miss Jean or Mr Scott, we don't know much of anything about them until we fill in some essential details.

At this point, writers will often work up a fact sheet, chronicling such details as the characters' hair color, eye color, height, weight, race, education, where they were born, etc. Some authors go so far as to include mannerisms, pet phrases, quirks, whether the character has an accent, and so on. These tactics are helpful and come in especially handy if there are multiple characters to keep track of.

That said, a fact sheet provides merely a sketch of the character. That's when many authors dig deeper to flesh out their character by exploring his/her motivations, belief system, hopes, and fears. What childhood incident left an emotional scar? What achievements give them strength? What have been the turning points in their life? Answering questions like these brings our stick figure character to life by giving him a soul.

Remember to include irony and conflict in your character's psyche; that is, who they want to be versus what is holding them back. Often they are their own biggest hurdle. As author/philosopher Albert Camus said, "Man is the only creature who refuses to be what he is."

A writer who has clearly tuned into their protagonist rarely regrets having invested the time to do so. The result is an authentic and well-defined character qualified to mirror the magic of your story.


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Writing Your Character's True Feelings

by Gary Fearon, Southern Writers Magazine

A favorite couple of mine has a four-year-old who loves to role-play, so whenever I visit we play this little game.

"Make an angry face," I say. He frowns.
"Make a surprised face." His eyes and mouth open wide.
"Make a scary face." He narrows his eyes and shows his teeth.

We keep this going until I run out of emotions or Ninja Turtles comes on, but I always try to end the game with a happy face.

Even when it's not part of a game, it's easy to read what kind of mood a four-year-old is in. It's once we grow up that we are prone to conceal our feelings and make them less visible to others. Therefore, what you see isn't always what you get.

Writing a character's emotions via physical cues alone rarely hits the mark, especially if they are clichés. A character whose "heart leaps" at the sight of her beloved or who has "tear-stained cheeks" virtually leaps off the page with plasticity. Something as rich and personal as feelings deserves better.

We've all had supposedly true human interest stories forwarded to us in which someone was the recipient of a great act of kindness. We cringe from the sheer amateurism when we read that he responded "with a tear in his eye." These fake stories are so heartwarming, they're almost flammable.

So how do we express a character's emotions without resorting to clichés? By looking not at what's visible through outside appearance, but rather at what's going on inside. What is our character's reaction that makes him/her unique?

Everyone feels worry, for example, if they think they may have left the stove on after leaving the house. But going deeper, each individual has a thought process uniquely their own. One person may head back home in a panic, another may blame their spouse and start an argument, while another may eventually write it off and let fate decide.

What your character thinks and what he does in response to a situation reveals much more than a tear-stained cheek will. Instead of focusing on the obvious, use the moment to dramatic advantage.

Speaking of avoiding the obvious, take care to eliminate extraneous words in phrases like "tears in her eyes" or a "frown on his face". (Where else would she have tears, and where else would he have a frown?)

Whether or not a physical display accompanies them, feelings are a very internal thing. When writing emotions, seek out the more secretive elements of that very human experience.  Coming up with a scene that touches the heart authentically will elicit genuine emotion from your reader and put a smile (on your face).

The Haunted Hero

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director, Southern Writers Magazine

A good protagonist has issues. No matter how strong and resilient they may be, a solid hero comes with baggage.

When we speak of emotional baggage we generally think of it negatively. For the storyteller, however, it's a favorite device to give the hero depth. The basic plot will throw challenges their way, but it's the inner conflict they themselves bring to the story that can create some of the most intriguing and relatable tension.

In a popular film that's out right now (don't worry, I don't do spoilers), a girl blames herself for a family member's death. Because we observe the incident, it barely needs elaboration. Hardly anything is said of it, but we understand innately what her thought process must be as future dangers present themselves.

The sort of things that haunt our hero can involve any brand of turmoil: death, guilt, abandonment, shame, rejection, you name it. The cause of their self-torture may take place within the action of the story itself, of it may be expressed in a reveal after much of the story has taken place. The latter method is a handy way to pique the reader's curiosity if they are given clues along the way suggesting there is more to the hero than meets the eye. Ideally, it will relate in some way to the plot itself so that they can gain some victory over it as part of their ultimate arc.

Baggage is not only good for the protagonist, but it makes for a more fascinating antagonist as well. Most of us know that Batman wouldn't have become a caped crusader had it not been for a tragedy in his youth. But let's not forget that The Joker also has a troubled past that he considers to be a valid excuse for his mayhem.

Is baggage always bad? Not necessarily. Writer Hope Alcocer shares this brilliant explanation: "Behind every dancer there's someone that broke her, a song that moved her, a moment that inspired her, and a dance floor that healed her." The emotional weight that we lug around makes us who we are for all of life's ups and downs.

Before our heroes embark on whatever quest we send them on, the trip is certain to be more interesting if we remember to pack some believable baggage for their hero's journey.

Get Real

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director, Southern Writers Magazine


"The truth is out there," we are told, but lately it seems to get lost in the shuffle. The more technologically advanced we become, the more we find ourselves bombarded with beguiling betrayal. From clickbait to fake news, there is artifice around every corner trying to grab our attention.

These practitioners of prevarication may think they're pulling the wool over our eyes, but the good news is, we writers are too smart for them. As creative thinkers ourselves, we can spot a snow job from down the street.

Much like fast food, "reality TV" has a bad reputation thanks to its own generally unhealthy menu. But the discerning viewer can tell the difference between a genuine documentary like My 600-lb Life and the sitcomish silliness of Chrisley Knows Best. What they all have in common, however, is conflict.

I bring all this up to remind us of two things:

     1) People are entertained by conflict.
     2) A savvy audience can smell fakery.

Whether the drama is bonafide or bogus, the lure of any story lies in the conflict it portrays. But the more believable the conflict, the more we allow ourselves to invest in it.

Rather coincidentally, I just read a review of a new action movie in which the critic complains that the villain has no motivation nor backstory. Such a film lacks authenticity because even a bad guy has what he thinks is a good reason to give the hero a hard time.

By contrast, it's real human drama with a touch of suspense each time TV's Nev and Max catch a Catfish and get her face-to-face with the victim of her fake identity. It becomes even more relatable when we learn the reason for the ruse, sometimes even evoking a measure of sympathy for the catfish.

Similarly, a work of fiction carries the ring of truth if there is cause behind the conflict. Yes, the bad guy wants to rob a bank. But why? Because he wants money. But WHY? Because his son needs a kidney transplant. Now we have motivation, and when the truth is revealed we empathize with the troublemaker.

The bottom line is, keep it real and you'll keep your reader committed. Portraying genuine human drama in both the story and in the conflict you create for your characters is how you can avoid writing fake fiction.

When Bad Things Happen to Good Protagonists

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director, Southern Writers Magazine

Perfection is boring, said more than one writer and even more readers. We can appreciate perfection, of course, as in a gorgeous sunset.  But when we're seeking to be entertained, it's all about the imperfection of things going badly for the hero.

No one seeks hardship upon themselves, and when given the choice we will choose the lesser of two evils. Our hero has the same instinct for self-preservation, so he/she will try to avoid trouble at all cost. Which is why problems must be thrust upon them, usually by someone with an opposing agenda.    

"Good people do not need laws to tell them to act responsibly," said Plato, "while bad people will find a way around the laws." This great forefather of fiction knew that characters with a propensity for doing bad are good at creating conflict for a sympathetic hero. When trouble strikes as a result of an outside force, our innocent victim is considered a passive protagonist.

On the other hand — just as in real life — trouble can be self-inflicted, caused by the hero's own carelessness, bad judgment, stubbornness, or other misstep. This active protagonist can attract adversity, if only via good intentions gone wrong. They had set out to accomplish something, only to have it go awry.

In general, writers are told to avoid the passive protagonist because readers don't invest themselves as readily in a hero who things merely happen to. They wish to identify with someone who wants something and is intent on getting it.

The ideal plot, it would seem, will star an active protagonist capable of causing his own calamity (the archetypical flawed hero), only to be further thwarted by an equally active antagonist who brings even more tribulation to the table. Our poor imperfect protagonist can't get a break. They have an enemy but can also be their own worst enemy.

The goal is to pile on however much misfortune it takes to convince the reader that all is lost; that there's no possible way the hero is going to come out on top. They will, of course. But it's all the stumbles threatening that victory which keep the reader turning the page, since trouble — no matter who's causing it — is just plain interesting.

How Many Characters Does It Take?

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director, Southern Writers Magazine

Everybody knew everybody's name in Cheers.

No doubt you've heard the old joke, "How many (fill-in-the-blanks) does it take to change a lightbulb?" There are many variations, but one of my favorites is:

"How many mystery writers does it take to change a light bulb?"

"Two. One to screw it almost all the way in and the other to give it a twist at the end."

The question I will ponder today is one that writers face, whether consciously or subconsciously: How many characters does my story need?

I once attended a play performed by one solitary actress.  It was something about a trip to Europe, as I recall. What I remember most is that, as part of the story, she actually fried up some bacon and eggs on stage. I was glad I had eaten dinner beforehand or it might have turned into a two-person play.

Similarly, Hal Halbrook entertained audiences for five decades with his one-man show Mark Twain Tonight. From the above examples, it might seem as though only one character could be sufficient to tell a full-length story, and that can happen, but keep in mind that their narratives will usually include anecdotes that involve other people.

A sprawling Dickens novel, on the other hand, will weave in a generous cast of characters. David Copperfield and Oliver Twist, for example, include roles for ten major players each, with some sub-characters becoming more famous than the protagonist himself.

There are over fifty characters in the Lord of the Rings saga. Thank goodness we don't have to keep track of every one, but maintaining a working knowledge of the comings and goings of the main ten-plus while traversing the 455,125 words in this trilogy takes some doing. 

That said, from classic dramas like Twelve Angry Men and The Dirty Dozen to campy comedies like It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World (which crammed as many celebrities of the day as they could afford), audiences have proven that they can handle a handful. The more recent The Hateful Eight and the upcoming Ocean's 8 might seem to suggest a trend toward slightly smaller ensembles, but who's counting.

The answer to our original question could well depend on how long the story is to be, and whether the length allows for some resolution for each of the major players. A short story only allows for one or two problems to solve, which can be accomplished with a very minimal cast.  If there are a dozen heroes, companions and enemies to address, more pages will be necessary to sort it all out and provide closure for each of the primary characters. (Secondary and incidental characters, of course, can slide.)

One important point, and it's amazing how often this is overlooked: No matter how many are in an ensemble cast, care should be taken to choose names that are distinct. A story that includes both a Carol and a Caroline is begging to confuse the reader.

Every character has their own story to tell, and each one you add becomes one more in the bigger picture. So as you may have already concluded, the simplest and best answer to the question of how many characters it takes to tell your story is: As many as it takes.

Timing is Everything

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director, Southern Writers Magazine

A funny friend of mine used to love to say this joke:

"The most important thing when you're doing comedy is ... uh ... er ... timing!"

Well, it was funny when he said it.  

The inherent wisdom behind his witticism was that getting the time wrong throws things off-kilter. This isn't only true for punchlines, but for any kind of communication.  Perhaps even moreso when it's the written word.  Consider this passage:

Dan didn't know why he was waking up in a hospital bed.  One of the last things he remembered was talking to Eleanor and Bobby at the party.  He looked at his watch.  Almost 8.  He was in the mood for one more drink before he said goodnight.  A nurse then appeared at the doorway.  

If you were confused reading that, I was just as confused writing it.  Was Dan checking his watch at the party or at the hospital?  Did a nurse suddenly show up at the party?  It all becomes clear in context, but the reader isn't supposed to have to work that hard to sort it out.

Another example of off-timing is when mixing past and present tense:

Only after the plane took off did James realize his briefcase is back home on the dining room table.  In it were the wood samples that his entire presentation depends on.  It will require some clever ad-libbing to describe the different finishes he told Mr Shaw he'll have ready.

That's a pretty blatant example of terrible time-shifting.  In actual practice, opposing tenses tend to creep in much more subtly and stealthily, especially during dialogue segments.  Be on guard for "he said" and "he says" that try to share the same time frame.

Another time element that confuses many is the use of "was" versus "were" in statements such as:

"I wish I was homeward bound." (Simon & Garfunkel, 1966)
"I wish I were an Oscar Meyer Weiner." (TV commercial, 1965)

Only one of these is correct.  Which one is it?

In matters of non-reality, such as a wish or other imagining, the verb "were" helps to clarify, removing it from the realm of possibility.  No one would say, "I were homeward bound," but a sentence that includes "I was" could be taken incompletely to suggest "I was an Oscar Meyer weiner."  So songs like "If I Were a Carpenter" were correctly titled, while "If I Was Your Woman" wasn't.

These common mistakes in time and tense are easy to make, but just as easy to fix.  Developing good timing will help ensure that your writing is clear and linear and that both you and your reader have a good time.

On the Second Day of Christmas

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director, Southern Writers Magazine

If "my true love gave to me" has already popped into your head, congratulations!  Your musical memory is alive and well, even though we've heard "The Twelve Days of Christmas" for the last time this year. Technically, however, today is the second day of Christmas, so in that spirit I thought we'd take a second look at Christmas past.

I can get a little nostalgic thinking about Southern Writers' first Christmas, in 2011.  It was an exciting time of promise, adventure, and new friendships with authors and each other.  One thing I remember fondly was that, for the month of December, every day on this Suite T blog was devoted to a different "gift".

These classic posts are a little hard to find, unless you go looking for them.  So I went looking for them.

The Gift of a Writing Partner by Kelli Zaniel
The Gift of a Reader by Shannon Milholland
The Gift of Counting the Cost by Doyne Phillips
The Gift of a Time Out by Gary Fearon
The Gift of Time by Susan Reichert
The Gift of Humor by Jenny B. Jones
The Gift of Great Food by Shannon Milholland (includes recipes by authors and the SW staff!)
The Gift of a New Beginning by Doyne Phillips
The Gift of Gab by Gary Fearon
The Gift You Get When You Give by Susan Reichert
The Gift of Mystery by Sandra Balzo
The Gift of...Gifts by Shannon Milholland
The Gift of Great Art by Doyne Phillips
The Gift of Music by Gary Fearon
The Gift of Poetry by Susan Reichert
The Gift of a Family Heritage by Renee Rowell
The Gift of Leadership by Londa Hayden
The Gift of Hope Deferred by Doyne Phillips
The Gift of Goals by Gary Fearon
The Gift of a New Year by Susan Reichert
The Gift of a Rich Childhood by Sarah Loudin Thomas
The Gift of FREE Marketing by Jessica Ferguson

Maybe one or more of those "gifts" will resonate with you on this second day of Christmas, which, by the way, is immortalized in another yuletide chestnut.  December 26 is the "Feast of Stephen" mentioned in the song "Good King Wenceslas".  I hope you'll "feast" on the joys of the season still to come, and will continue to celebrate all the way up to that twelfth day of Christmas, on January 5th.

Now that it's stuck in your head, feel free to hum "Good King Wencelas" today. (If you know the words, I'm impressed.)

The Seven Basic Plots

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director, Southern Writers Magazine


If you're a writer who's been on Facebook or YouTube lately, you've probably been presented with a video ad for Ron Howard's Master Class on Directing. In the promo, he makes reference to a theory held by some that there are "seven stories".  I thought we might briefly explore those seven story lines from which most tales spring forth.

Christopher Booker is credited for writing the book on the subject, namely The Seven Basic Plots: Why we tell stories. At around 700 pages, it's a thorough analysis of each story line, breaking each down into their own set of stages. For the sake of this post, here is an oversimplification:

Overcoming the Monster
Not always a literal monster, but a major threat to our hero, who takes up the challenge to destroy it.

Rags to Riches
An underdog overcomes the odds to become top dog.

The Quest
Our hero must find a treasure of great value, and embarks on a journey to find it. 

Voyage and Return
Our hero lands in a place unlike home and must learn new rules to prevail. Eventually he/she returns home better than before.

Comedy
A goal is impeded by funny obstacles.  Often, if the main obstacle is a person, they get a come-uppance in the end.

Tragedy
Our hero is his own worst enemy, with qualities that lead to his downfall.

Rebirth
The ultimate character arc, in which the hero transforms into a new being, literally or figuratively.

In reading these, you may have already assessed that many stories contain more than one of these plots, and you'd be correct.  For example, isn't The Wizard of Oz a quest for a treasure as well as a voyage to a strange world?  Booker himself acknowledges the frequent overlap of two or more of these plots, and even mentions two more which he considers less common:

Rebellion
The hero rebels but ultimately surrenders to, and perhaps joins, the powers that be.

Mystery
The hero seeks to discover the truth of a murder or other unexplained event.

Some writers feel that lumping stories into categorized plots is disrespecting their originality. Others feel that there are as many as 25 plots, not merely seven. Ron Howard implies that there is just one, but we may have to buy his Master Class to learn what that is.

In his classic book Story, legendary screenwriting expert Robert McKee declares: "A rule says you must do it this way. A principle says this works, and has through all remembered time."  Why reinvent the wheel from scratch when someone has already rounded off the edges for you?

The fact that we can think of our favorite movies or books and see how they fit into one or more of these story lines is testament to their enduring effectiveness and popularity.  Could you possibly insert your hero's name into one of the seven plots and refine it into the logline for your next novel?  Your own creativity will make the time-tested tale uniquely yours.

Authors: which of these seven (or nine) would you say approximates the primary plot of your most recent novel?

Circle Around for Your Story's Success

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director, Southern Writers Magazine


It seems like just yesterday we'd be flipping the pages of the latest Archie or Batman comic book and we would come across this headline:

"Tired of being picked on? Nobody picks on an ATLAS MAN!"

The cartoon accompanying this full-page ad showed a beach bully kicking sand at a skinny fellow (named Mac) and his girl.  After confronting and being threatened by the muscle-bound brute, Mac vows to get even some day.  In the next panel, he signs up for Charles Atlas' bodybuilding course, and in the end he becomes the hero of the beach.

The word balloons changed over the years, I noticed, so sometimes Mac's girl was sympathetic when he vowed revenge.  Other times she said something demeaning like, "Oh, don't let it bother you, little boy." Originally, the cartoon showed the aftermath of a now-powerful Mac knocking the beach bully out.  Over time, the advertisement eliminated that panel, probably because it promoted violence.  Or maybe Mac punched out his verbally abusive girlfriend off-screen.

The point is, in the full version of this miniature morality tale, we are given a definitive "before" and "after".  Before, Mac is picked on by a bully.  After, the underdog becomes top dog.

This classic Atlas ad is a simple but effective example of the full circle readers want in their stories. There has to be a situation that needs resolving, and by the end of the story that situation must be resolved.  Without either, there is no sense of accomplishment.

A time-tested method is to establish, at the beginning of the story, our hero in his/her current state (their "Ordinary World", as the experts call it).  We'll see them going about their normal routine in their normal circumstances so that we understand the status quo.  After that, things go topsy-turvy and the hero's world as they know it comes under siege by whatever problems the story dictates.  A series of ups and downs follow, until finally there is victory and we are rewarded with a scenario that hearkens us back to the original roots of the hero.

This return to the "ordinary world" will clarify the results of what has taken place and show how things—and hopefully the hero—have changed.  The hero doesn't physically have to return to their hometown with a parade waiting for them.  Sometimes the hero in fact cannot go back to their world, but an early vulnerability that is now a strength is easy to convey.

If the character arc has been apparent enough, it may not even be necessary to change a thing. A mere reminder of how things used to be could be sufficient.  Perhaps the hero was swimming at the beginning of the story.  Toward the end of the story, the hero is swimming again.  Same activity, but this time we know they possess a contentment they didn't have the first time.

Life itself affords us very few clear-cut befores and afters, so we find fulfillment in those we experience with our fictional friends.  Letting readers go full circle with the bookends of an obvious before and after is an easy and effective way to bulk up a skinny story.

Fear Itself

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director, Southern Writers Magazine


My neighbor goes all out for Halloween. His is the go-to house for trick-or-treaters, not just those from our neighborhood, but from the surrounding ones as well. This photo, taken mid-October, is nothing compared to what his yard becomes on Halloween night.

As in years past, he'll add an impressive walk-through funhouse populated by zombies and other assorted children of the night. A steady flow of kids and parents will line up outside his tarp-covered tunnel hoping for a good scare.

Each Halloween, as the resulting happy shrieks echo through the neighborhood, I once again ponder the appeal of the safe scare. 

Why do we get such pleasure out of being frightened? After all, we have a built-in survival instinct that wants to protect us from any harm.
The simple answer is that there are both physical and psychological feel-good benefits.

As long as we know we are not in any danger, the faux fear factor triggers a rush of chemicals that excite us, making us feel more alive. Margee Kerr, Ph.D. and author of Scream: Chilling Adventure in the Science of Fear, explains that our "fight or flight" mode kicks in during these times, but we are hijacking the flight response and enjoying it.

Or, if you want to get existential, it could be said that "surviving" a haunted house, a Stephen King movie, or a roller coaster ride gives our psyche the sensation of cheating death. At the very least, we can say that we embarked on an adventure, conquered it, and had a happy ending.

If the latter sounds familiar, is that not the essence of story? Our hero begins a quest, fights his way to victory, and survives. We identify with the protagonist and want to see him through to a satisfying resolution so that we can win right alongside him.

Within the safety of a book or screenplay, we relax and enjoy facing our fears. What type of things actually do frighten you? Health scares? Failure? An unexplained sound in the middle of the night? Everyday, true-to-life fears are something everyone feels, and if your hero faces them either as their main struggle or alongside it, readers are able to identify and empathize with your vulnerable champion.

When writing your story, raise the stakes by challenging your hero with whatever he is most fearful of. Igniting the survival instinct with thrills and chills is an effective way to scare up some readers.

New Words in the Dictionary

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director, Southern Writers Magazine

It had to happen sooner or later. Binge-watch is now officially ensconced in the American English language. As are riding shotgun, throwing shade, and train wreck. Roughly 1,000 new terms have recently been added to the dictionary, but don't despair if you can't find time to learn them all. Some are so 2017 that they are guaranteed a short shelf life.

One that doesn't deserve immortalization is woo-woo, slang for describing someone that's really out there. You will never hear me—nor any other self-respecting man—resorting to using "woo-woo". People would think I was cray-cray. (Please, Merriam-Webster, never let cray-cray make it in.)

I do, however, kinda like humblebrag.  To humblebrag is to make a seemingly self-critical statement that is really intended to boast ("I only came in second place in the entire country"). Instead of fishing for a compliment, it baits and hooks itself.

Among the more interesting additions is wayback machine, which relates to going back in time, if only in the mind. Mr. Peabody and Sherman were using that very device back in 1961. Why it's only caught on after 56 years must have something to do with Netflix.

That said, you'll also be hearing wayback used as a noun in an entirely different context, referring to the area in the back of a van, which you can open up by putting the rear seats down. To my knowledge, it doesn't help you go back in time.

Meanwhile, there are other words that are on the verge of verbal extinction.  While you can still find them in the dictionary, word has it that it won't be for much longer. They include frutescent (resembling a shrub), muliebrity (femininity) and snoutfair (describing someone attractive or charming, even though the word is neither).

Since some of these terms are rarely used anymore, such as agrestic (rural), embrangled (confused), or rum peeper (mirror), it's only right that they be exuviated (cast off).  But I will miss skedaddle, because there are times when I actually do skedaddle, and will no longer know what to call it.

Words come and go, and fortunately only a couple of the lamer offerings mentioned in my 2016 post on the subject have survived. The wise writer will do well to avoid fly-by-night phrases that readers won't identify with in thirty or forty years, unless the goal is specifically to date a character by using dialogue du jour.

Plan an Ego Trip

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director, Southern Writers Magazine

It's ironic that authors who have no problem writing a 100,000-word manuscript on a deadline will freeze up when faced with writing their own author bio. Much like a resumé, the idea of encapsulating one's life and times into a few paragraphs is the stuff of anxiety and self-consciousness.

Whether it's for your Amazon author page or the "About Me" section of your website, here are some time-tested tips to help you craft a credible characterization.

You is kind, you is smart, you is important.
Taking a cue from 2012's The Help, come into the process with a positive self-image. This is the time to own what you've accomplished and to share it with pride. If you don't, who will?

Write in third person.
Unless you're going for a friendly, folksy platform, it's common practice to write your bio as an objective third party. Not only does it lend an air of endorsement, it gives you more liberty to tout your accomplishments without guilt.

Just like your novel, grab attention with the opening line.
Instead of "John Q. Author has been writing novels since 2011", how about "After breaking both legs falling off a ladder in 2011, John Q. Author spent his recuperation time writing the first draft of his first novel." You can come up a creative first line without hurting yourself.

Tell it like it is.
What are your interests and achievements that led you to writing what you write? Do you write science fiction because you once saw a UFO?  Do you have a degree in medicine that propels your medical mysteries? Even a stint as a Walmart greeter is prime fodder if customers inspire your characters.

Don't forget to include any awards your writing has received, as well as any writers organizations you're a member of.

Note to fiction writers: If you have an interesting background, include that, even if it isn't related to writing. The fact that you spent five years living among apes may have nothing to do with your cozy mystery series, but it would make me to want to see what you've written.

Note to nonfiction writers: No need to get that personal.  In this case, the reader mainly wants to know how they'll benefit from your work. Dwell on what they'll get out of it and why you're the best one to teach it to them.

In both cases, don't stray so far from your chosen genre that you confuse readers. If they seek you out as a historical romance writer, does it serve your purpose to say you collect DC action figures?

Project the platform personality that fits you.
Jeff Goins, author of The Art of Work, says there are five basic personality types for author platforms. While this breakdown is designed for bloggers, it can help you pin down your bio personality as well.

The Journalist: Someone who seeks answers and asks questions of experts. By sharing those answers they establish themselves as experts too.

The Prophet: A critic who feels things can be better, and promotes solutions. This controversial role is not without its dangers, as everyone has an opinion and those who disagree can be alienated.

The Artist: Someone who creates art, music, photography, short stories, etc and shares their work, perhaps even works-in-progress.

The Professor: Someone obsessed with details, data, and the way things work, taking complex things and breaking it down, usually with a takeaway.

The Star: Celebrities whose platforms are built on charisma or reputation. You may not think of yourself as a "star", but if people seek you out as the go-to person for your specialty, don't write yourself off too quickly.

One of these Jeff Goins categories may have spoken to you immediately; if not, you may be a combination, in which case you can morph them into an even more individualized persona.

When it comes to bios, Southern Writers has a particular fondness for the authors who appear in our own Gallery of Stars, where you'll see a bunch of bios and may find inspiration for your own.

Readers like to know who they're reading, so don't overlook this opportunity to let your little light shine. Take an ego trip, and pack your bags with confidence. You're not bragging if it's the truth.

What Are Your Headlines?

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director, Southern Writers Magazine

Apparently Mark Zuckerberg became a father this weekend, for the second time. Yahoo deemed this newsworthy, and as I read this headline and a few others, something struck me that relates to storytelling.

Who cares?

I'm not suggesting nobody cares, what I'm asking is who is it that cares? Certainly it's a life-changing event for the parents of any new child, so they go at the top of the list. Next in line would be their families, then friends, then associates, and so on. At some point fans of the co-founder of Facebook presumably care, as do writers for Yahoo.

Meanwhile, North Korea was testing hydrogen bombs.

There you have one news story with limited impact on the average person's life, and another news story with considerably greater potential. Which of these stories, if you were to put them in your novel, would keep your reader up at night turning pages?

Fact is, either one is fair game, since a comedy-drama can easily exploit the challenges of something as normal as parenthood, while the threat of nuclear war is a spy thriller staple. Perhaps even better, combine them: if the undercover agent's wife or daughter has just given birth, does that not raise the stakes for the hero?

The point is, every life event, however big or small, can have a role in a story if it furthers the plot or adds a layer of interest. Like reporters always looking for a scoop, storytellers need look no further than the daily events around us to find plausible plot points and twists.

As you look back over your own life, there are certain episodes that stand out in your mind more than others. These headlines of your life are step one if you're writing a memoir, but any one of them makes you uniquely qualified to fictionalize it as an event in your novel. You had to live through it; why not capitalize on it?

It's good to think of the significant events in your novel as if they were headlines, and to make each one newsworthy. Some may be a personal crisis just for the hero while others may be the basis for widespread panic. Give your characters captivating headlines to live out, and your audience will stick around to read all about it.

Writing Like a View-Master

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director, Southern Writers Magazine

It's been a long time since I hung out in the toy department, but on a recent visit I was surprised to see that one of my childhood favorites was still around. Perhaps at some point you also owned a View-Master. I can still hear the voice of actor Henry Fonda hawking "the G.A.F. View-Master" on TV spots.

This plastic viewer, held up to the eyes like a pair of binoculars, let you experience genuine 3D images. Depending on which disc you inserted, you could see stereoscopic views of everything from the Grand Canyon to popular TV shows. Grimm's Fairy Tales and stories from the Disney archive were among the more popular titles.

As you manually advanced to each of the seven scenes on a disc, a tiny window displayed a few words describing what you were seeing.  Which meant that an entire story had to be told in seven scenes.

Does that tell you something?  What it suggests to me is that a good story can be broken down and told in as few as seven simple plot points.

Apparently the View-Master isn't alone in thinking this way.  Numerous writing resources spell out classic seven-point outlines.  There are variations, but here's a common breakdown:

1. The Beginning
A setup that establishes the character in his/her current circumstances.

2.  Plot Point 1
An inciting event, a catalyst that changes the status quo.

3.  Pinch Point 1
A personal challenge that requires the hero to take action.

4.  Mid-Point
At this point of no return, the hero is fully committed and proactively tries to fix things.

5.  Pinch Point 2
The hero fails. At this low point an additional crisis makes it appear that all is lost.

6.  Plot Point 2
The final confrontation with the antagonist.  Most of the time, the hero will prevail.

7. Ending
This satisfying epilogue reveals how things are in the new normal.

In an 80,000-word novel, that translates to roughly 11,400 words for each point.  But if you break your story down to its key elements, you could convey it in a one-minute summary suitable for an elevator pitch or a workable outline for whatever novel you're working on.

Granted, a picture is worth a thousand words — and the View-Master showed seven of them — but the brief text that accompanied each slide told the same story in the sparsest words possible.  When plotting your next story or pitching to an agent, think like a View-Master and you can stir your reader's imagination in vivid 3D.

Who Is Your Contagonist?

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director, Southern Writers Magazine

Every good story that has conflict (and every good story does have conflict!) includes at least one hero and at least one villain. As savvy storytellers ourselves, we look for and easily spot the protagonist and the antagonist in the tales we read and watch.  Among the most obvious:

Protagonist: Harry Potter
Antagonist: Lord Voldemort

Protagonist: Dorothy
Antagonist: The Wicked Witch of the West

Protagonist: Batman
Antagonist: The Joker, countless others

We've come to expect that these two archetypes won't come in full head-to-head combat with each other until the final confrontation. The story has to build up to that exciting climax through a variety of complications.  And that's where the contagonist comes in.

So who is the contagonist?  First, let's affirm that the protagonist is "for" something (like achieving the main goal) and that the antagonist is "against" it.  The contagonist plays a role that is "contrary" to the hero's pursuit.  That is, standing in the way of it, or being a distraction from it, though not necessarily with the evil intent of an enemy.

For example, Professor Snape could be considered a contagonist for Harry Potter.  He's not the villain of the story, but he provides tension and conflict along the way.

You could even look at the Wizard of Oz himself as something of a contagonist, because he impedes Dorothy's quest to go home by first giving her a major assignment.

Silence of the Lambs' Hannibal Lector is both an ally and a complication for Detective Starling.  In a buddy comedy like Dumb and Dumber, the heroes are often each other's biggest hurdle.

As in the above examples, the line can be blurred between contagonist and mentor or any other archetype. That alone can add an extra layer of depth to the story.  And yes, the contagonist is sometimes an ally of the antagonist, as in the case of a henchman, or perhaps someone in competition with the adversary.

As you might suspect, the contagonist doesn't have to be human.  Just as the main antagonist can be an asteroid hurling toward Earth or a drought that threatens the farm, any person, thing or circumstance that stands between the hero and the achievement of his/her goal can be considered a contagonist.

A winter storm that keeps someone from getting home in time to stop a wedding. A job change. A lost wallet. A surprise visitor. Any of these can throw a curve ball into the mix.  None intend to thwart the hero, but they do the trick.  The Out of Towners (1970) and Planes, Trains and Automobiles (1987) are examples of non-malevolent roadblocks to simply getting from one place to another.

Since conflict is at the heart of story, could you add some characters or circumstances that will further delay your hero's progress?  A series of complications that aren't traced to the antagonist will provide added surprises for your audience. And, by some clever coincidence, conquering one of these very complications just might provide the exact skill or know-how that comes in handy during the final confrontation.

A Dazzling Character Development Trick

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director, Southern Writers Magazine

Little kids just don't get magic.

That's something I heard a magician say a long time ago, and it makes perfect sense.  At that young age, children have yet to differentiate the natural world from the supernatural world.  Taking things at face value, the incongruity of a rabbit suddenly appearing from a hat is beyond their scope. They're more interested in the rabbit itself.

I got a first-hand taste of this years ago doing the one magic trick I know.  Actually, it's not even magic, and it's barely a trick.  Using the most elementary of skills, I can make it look like I've removed my thumb from one hand while it wiggles in the other.  I haven't fooled any adults with it, and older kids typically groan at its lameness.  But I'll never forget the reaction of a kindergartener who ran off screaming, terrified that I took off a finger.  Thank goodness I didn't saw someone in half.

As we know, children have a simpler view of the world than adults.  We wouldn't be likely to write a scene with a couple of seven-year-olds discussing quantum physics or amortization schedules. But we may be less aware of the distinctive degrees of development our adult characters can also express.

With each stage in life, people's wants and needs change. Behaviorists have given us some insights we can take advantage of if we really want to get into the heads of our characters. 

One particularly detailed guide is by Richard Barrett ("The Seven Stages of Psychological Development", found at http://bit.ly/2sViwO6   It's heady stuff but eye-opening and worth a look.  Here's an oversimplification:

BIRTH TO TWO YEARS

Surviving, having needs met

TWO TO EIGHT YEARS

Conforming, seeking love and acceptance

EIGHT TO 24 YEARS

Respect and recognition, displaying looks or talent to become part of a group

25 TO 39 YEARS

Individuating, becoming oneself through expressing values and autonomy

40 TO 49 YEARS

Self-actualizing, becoming oneself through expressing gifts and talents

50 TO 59 YEARS

Integrating, collaborating with others and making a difference

60+ YEARS

Selfless serving, social justice, leaving a legacy

These won't apply to everyone — or every character — but could any of these underlying needs add an extra dimension to your protagonists and those they encounter?  Perhaps your 55-year-old shop owner who does sleuthing on the side is also the president of a civics organization — an ideal way to introduce an entire cast of red herrings.  

Knowing each character's stage of development is handy for giving them individuality. Researching their motivations in depth can also help you rely less on cliches and find layers to their personality that might surprise and dazzle you. 

Fill their heads with age-appropriate thoughts and you will avoid a failure to communicate like that of Billy Crystal's character in City Slickers, whose Career Day speech for his son's class became the victim of a midlife crisis.

https://youtu.be/ZXXsX6144uI