Showing posts with label cause. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cause. Show all posts

Thursday, April 2, 2020

The Dramatistic Pentad Plotting Method

Copyright 2020 by Gary L. Pullman


 According to Kenneth Burke, human communication consists of answering six questions, to which, I suggest, a seventh should be added.
 
Burke's questions: Who? What? When? Where? How? Why?

The question I would add: How many? or How much?

Specifically, these questions seem to relate to

Who? = agent, agency
What? = act, force, object, incident
When? = duration, time
Where? = location
How? = method, process, technique
Why? = cause, motive, reason, purpose
How many? or How much? = quantity (in number or quantity, respectively)


To fully describe the basic plot of a short story, a novel, or a movie, each of these questions, as appropriate, should be answered:

Who? Norman Bates
What? murders Marion Crane and Detective Abogast
When?
Where? in the motel he manages and in the house in which he lives
How? by stabbing Marion and pushing Abogast down the stairs
Why? because the personality of his deceased mother orders him to do so
How man? two (murders)


By putting these answers together in a single sentence, an effective synopsis of Alfred Hitchcock's film Psycho is obtained:

In response to the command of his deceased mother's internalized personality, Norman Bates, a motel manager, commits two murders, stabbing Marion Crane to death in her room's shower and pushing Detective Abogast down the stairs of the Victorian house in which Norman lives.


This method is not only useful in generating story synopses, but it can also be used to generate plot twists. A writer can introduce an innovation at any point (that is, for any question). For example, let's take an item from USA Today's “News from around the 50 states” column. The original item, concerning Montana, reads:

A federal judge has ruled that the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service must do more to protect Canada lynx from bobcat traps. The Missoulian reports the lawsuit by WildEarth Guardians and Center for Biological Diversity claimed the federal agency is failing to follow a treaty protecting endangered species and not doing enough to stop trappers from capturing the wrong animal. Lynx are classified as a threatened species under the U. S. Endangered Species Act.

First, let's separate the information into our interrogative scheme:

Who? A federal judge
What? ruled that the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service must do more to protect Canada lynx from bobcat traps
When? recently (implied by the fact that the item is a news report)
Where? in Montana
How? follow a treaty protecting endangered species and . . . [do more] to stop trappers from capturing the wrong animal
Why? because Lynx are classified as a threatened species


Now, to introduce a plot twist, we can simply replace one phrase in the answer to a question with another phrase that mentions a bizarre or an unexpected substitution:

Who? A secret court
What? ruled that the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service must do more to protect Canada lynx from bobcat traps
When? recently (implied by the fact that the item is a news report)
Where? in Montana
How? follow a treaty protecting endangered species and . . . [do more] to stop trappers from capturing the wrong animal
Why? because Lynx are classified as a threatened species

or

Who? A federal judge
What? ruled that . . . U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service personnel should shoot people who injure Yetis with bobcat traps.
When? recently (implied by the fact that the item is a news report)
Where? in Montana
How? follow a treaty protecting endangered species and . . . [do more] to stop trappers from capturing the wrong animal
Why? because Lynx are classified as a threatened species

or


Who? A federal judge
What? will rule that the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service must do more to protect Canada lynx from bobcat traps
When? during a future meeting
Where? in Montana
How? follow a treaty protecting endangered species and . . . [do more] to stop trappers from capturing the wrong animal
Why? because Lynx are classified as a threatened species

or


Who? A federal judge
What? ruled that the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service must do more to protect Canada lynx from bobcat traps
When? recently (implied by the fact that the item is a news report)
Where? on Space Station Zebra
How? follow a treaty protecting endangered species and . . . [do more] to stop trappers from capturing the wrong animal
Why? because Lynx are classified as a threatened species

or

Who? A federal judge
What? ruled that the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service must do more to protect Canada lynx from bobcat traps
When? recently (implied by the fact that the item is a news report)
Where? in Montana
How? follow an intergalactic treaty protecting endangered species and . . . [do more] to stop trappers from capturing the wrong animal
Why? because Lynx are classified as a threatened species

or

Who? A federal judge
What? ruled that the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service must do more to protect Canada lynx from bobcat traps
When? recently (implied by the fact that the item is a news report)
Where? in Montana
How? follow a treaty protecting endangered species and . . . [do more] to stop trappers from capturing the wrong animal
Why? because Lynx are classified as a human predators

Personally, I like the “Yetis” substitution the best, which implies not only that the creatures actually exist, but also that they are protected by the federal government because they represent an “endangered species,” a plot that could be developed humorously, perhaps as a satire.

Of course, another possibility also exists: change not just one, but several, of the answers to our questions. (Probably, this is the most effective approach.) Here's an example:


Who? Cryptozoologists
What? recommend that the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service protect Yetis from hunters and trappers
When? recently
Where? throughout the United States and its territories
How? by allowing the creatures to roam free, rather than confining them to particular areas, or “reservations,”
Why? because, free to roam, Yetis, a threatened species, will be better able to defend themselves against human intruders

If, initially, the results of this process seem lame, choose a different news item and start fresh. Ultimately, the process can be rewarding!

Wednesday, April 1, 2020

Using Typical Genre Elements to Generate Horror Story Plots

Copyright 2020 by Gary L. Pullman



By isolating the types of characters, actions, settings, processes, and motives or causes upon which horror movies are typically based, we can devise a plot generator.


Although this is a basic list, a starter, as it were, which can be extended by further considerations of horror, both on the sound stage and on the page, it suggests the method.

Who? What types of characters generally appear again and again in the horror genre?

Protagonist, antagonist, victim, authority figure, expert, parents, siblings, tormentor, extraterrestrial, supernatural being


What? What types of actions do many horror stories represent? In other words, what type of activity occupies the characters? What do they do, on a sustained basis, throughout the film or most of the film?

Filming, capturing, escaping, experimenting, rescuing, conceiving, avenging, exploring, invading


When? Where? What settings (times and places) are typical of horror fiction?

Isolated property, closed public property, private property, laboratory, spaceship, suburbs, school, town, forest


How? What processes are typical of the horror genre? In other words, what type of series of actions forms the basis, or vehicle, of the story's plot, as opposed to the actions of the characters themselves? What propels the story as a whole?

Traveling, visiting, creating, reproducing, disturbing, working, persecuting, vacationing, possessing, exorcising, trespassing


Why? What are the motives of the protagonist and the antagonist? If one or both of these characters is (are) otherworldly (e. g., extraterrestrial or supernatural) or a physical force (e. g., energy or disease), what causes them to “act”?

Revenge, financial profit, escape, conquest, insanity, invasion, survival, destruction

Now, it is possible to generate plots by mixing and matching these typical foundational elements. Here are a few examples.

This example uses the first words from each category:

Protagonist films on isolated property while traveling during a vendetta.

To make the plot more concrete, substitute more specific terms for the generic ones; in doing so, it is all right to eliminate an element that no longer seems to fit; in the following revision, “traveling” has been omitted.

The camera operator is hired as a member of a film crew shooting a documentary concerning life inside a prison so he can avenge his father's death by killing the inmate who murdered him.

Here is another example, based on the third term in each of the categories. In this example, it was necessary to add a noun after “by creating”:

A victim escapes from private property by creating a ruse in order to be free.

Again, to make the plot more concrete, substitute more specific terms for the generic ones; in doing so, it is all right to add or alter an element if doing so is desirable and appropriate.

An enslaved woman escapes from an island resort by disguising herself as a guest so she can leave with other departing visitors.


Thursday, March 28, 2019

Plotting Board, Part 8

Copyright 2019 by Gary L. Pullman

Although there are several patterns of plots, one is the three-part structure described by Aristotle in his Poetics: beginning, middle, and end. We can think of this three-part structure as consisting of a cause of an action by which action an effect is produced:

  1. Cause
  2. Action
  3. Effect
Every effect, or outcome, can be either comic (end well for the protagonist) or tragic (end poorly for the protagonist).

With this in mind, many varieties of plots can thus be developed:

The Problem-Solution Plot
  1. Problem
  2. Solution
  3. Effect (Outcome)


As Good As It Gets (1997) uses this plot:

  1. Problem: Misanthropic Melvin Udall suffers from an obsessive-compulsive disorder
  2. Solution: Melvin falls in love with Carol Connelly, a server.
  3. Outcome: Through his relationship with Carol, Melvin reaches the point at which he can overcome his obsessive-compulsive disorder.

The Sex-Violence Plot

  1. Sex
  2. Violence
  3. Outcome


Fatal Attraction (1987) uses this plot:
  1. Sex: Dan Gallagher has an affair with Alexandra "Alex" Forrest.
  2. Violence: Unstable and possessive, Alex refuses to end the affair, attacking Dan's wife, Beth.
  3. Outcome: Dan rescues Beth, who shoots Alex, preventing her from killing her husband.

The Masquerade-Unmasking Plot
  1. Masquerade
  2. Unmasking
  3. Outcome



The Crying Game (1992) uses this plot:
  1. Masquerade: Dil, a transvestite, masquerades as a woman.
  2. Unmasking: Dil's true sex is revealed as she is about to have sex with Fergus.
  3. Outcome: Fergus and Dil remain close friends.

The Victimization-Vengeance Plot
  1. Victimization
  2. Vengeance
  3. Outcome



Sudden Impact (1983) uses this plot:
  1. Victimization: Jennifer Spencer and her sister are raped.
  2. Vengeance: One by one, Jennifer kills the rapists.
  3. Outcome: Detective “Dirty Harry” Callahan learns the serial killer's identity, but lets Jennifer walk.

The Temptation-Sin Plot
  1. Temptation
  2. Sin
  3. Outcome


Joan of Arc (1999) uses this plot:

  1. Joan of Arc is tempted to commit the sin of pride.
  2. Joan arrogantly insists on attacking Paris.
  3. Joan repents and receives God's forgiveness.

The Status Change-Adaptation Plot

  1. Status Change
  2. Adaptation
  3. Outcome


Shakespeare's King Henry IV, Part II uses this plot:
  1. Status Change: Prince Hal becomes King Henry IV.
  2. Adaptation: Henry IV adapts to his new status, becoming responsible and wise.
  3. Outcome: Henry IV defeats his enemies and rules well.

The Threat-Response Plot
  1. Threat
  2. Response
  3. Outcome


Alien (1979) uses this plot:
  1. Threat: An alien aboard the Nostromo space tug threatens Warrant Officer Ripley and the rest of the vessel's crew.
  2. Response: Ripley fights the alien.
  3. Outcome: Using her wits, Ripley defeats the alien, opening an airlock, which causes the creature to be sucked from the vessel, and blasts it with Nostromo's engine exhausts.

The Role-Reversal Plot
  1. Role
  2. Reversal
  3. Outcome


The Final Girl (2015) uses this plot:
  1. Role: Veronica poses as a helpless young woman, allowing four teenager serial killers to “lure” her into a forest as their next intended victim.
  2. Reversal: Actually a highly trained assassin, Veronica, the boys' intended prey, becomes the predator.
  3. Outcome: One by one, veronica kills her would-be killers.
There are plenty of other variations on this basic plot pattern. Perhaps we will consider others in a future post.

Saturday, February 9, 2019

Scenic Posters

Copyright 2019 by Gary L. Pullman

A common formula for many horror stories, whether written on the page or enacted on the soundstage, consists of five acts:

  1. The status quo is portrayed.
  2. A series of bizarre incidents occur.
  3. The protagonist discovers the cause of these incidents.
  4. The protagonist, often aided by friends, uses his or her knowledge of the cause of the incidents to put things right.
  5. A return to the status quo is shown (although the ending may also hint at a possible sequel).
As in describing a scene in order both to represent and to dramatize it, it can be helpful to draw inspiration from a horror movie poster (the book cover, as it were, of a film), this same process can be useful in generating scenes which comprise the bizarre incidents which occur in act two (and, perhaps, later as well). Remember that the scenes so created must be causally related, although their ultimate cause will be withheld until act three.



An inspiration for a scene might be the poster for Annabelle: Creation (2017). (In writing from movie posters, I usually select posters for movies I haven't seen, and I don't read a synopsis of the film. I want to be inspired by the poster's art; I don't want to steal the screenwriters' original treatment.) With this in mind, let's look at the way NOT to do this:


My senses on high alert, I stole glances to either side and over my shoulder, as I crept along the cold, damp corridor, feeling trapped by the ancient basement's gray stone walls, stone floor, and stone ceiling.

I was conscious of the tons of massive rock above me and of the cataclysm which would ensue should all that weight come tumbling down (not that it should), and I imagined the terrors that likely befell the poor lost souls shut away inside the subterranean chambers which opened off the warren of intersecting hallways—or would have opened, had they not been locked.

As I continued along the maze, I heard the grating of rusty hinges, as a great, thick iron door opened of its own accord. Its loud, high-pitched creaking noise made my heart shrink, even as I turned, staring with horror at the sight within the chamber thus revealed.

A girl stood, her arms raised and extended at shoulder level; her body limp; her legs, one of which wore a brace, together. She was pale, and her eyes were closed. Perhaps she was not standing, after all. She seemed to have recently died—after having been crucified. However, no nails had been driven through her wrists or ankles.

A chill of horror iced my spine, as I saw another disturbing anomaly: a doll seemed to float before her, positioned as though it were seated upon the girl's lap, although, of course, her hanging vertically from the wall precluded such a possibility. The doll must be pinned to the girl's dress.

But why would someone go to such trouble? The scene seemed some sort of bizarre tableau, but, if so, to what end? Or did it have a purpose? Perhaps the hole mise-en-scene was nothing more than the whim of a mind gone mad.


Run! For God's sake, flee this damned place!


At my peril, in my foolishness, my curiosity greater than my wisdom, I stayed, gazing at the figure of torment within the chamber to which the open door admitted my horrified gaze.


At the girl's feet, a small table had been overturned. I squinted, focusing my gaze, and drew back, horrified anew: the table, like the chair beside it, the doll, and, indeed, the girl herself floated! Suspended in midair, they were held stationary and aloft by a power both unseen and unknown.


The girl wore patent-leather shoes, which were all but invisible in the darkness of what, I realized now, was a window—or a long, narrow rectangular opening, without glass, within the chamber's wall, behind the female figure, unlit and indistinct. Its shape had added to the illusion that the girl had been crucified, for, in the dim light, it looked like a plank of wood to which her ankles might have been nailed, as her wrists, at first, had seemed to be fixed to the stone wall.


Aghast, I stumbled away from the open doorway, realizing my retreat only when my back encountered the immovable resistance of the corridor's opposite wall. As I continued to stare at the girl afloat against her chamber's wall, her eyes opened, revealing yet another horror: the whites were blood-red, her pupils elliptical and golden, as if ablaze with the fire of hell, an effect strengthened by the appearance, between her soft, pink lips of a split serpent's tongue!


The doll, the countenance of which was of a decidedly malevolent character, opened its mouth, and, in a voice more suitable to a demon than to a toy in the shape of a babe in arms, harshly croaked a plea both pathetic and horrendous: Help us!


Turning, I ran along the stony floor, the doll's croaking supplication seeming to reverberate throughout the underground hallways and subterranean chambers as if the labyrinth were the many mouths and throats of hell's damned souls crying in unison, Help us!


This description is too close to the picture on the poster to be used in a story of one's own, but, in writing it, I conceived an idea for a novel, or part of one, so the effort isn't necessarily lost, even though it didn't achieved its intended goal, which was to develop a scene that is inspired by, rather than merely repeats, a scene painted for a movie poster. It would be a mistake—and a significant, perhaps costly, one—to use the description I wrote of the Annabelle: Creation poster's picture in a story of my own; it is too close to the scene depicted by the poster and could, therefore, represent plagiarized content were it to be used as is in an independent work.


However, all may not be lost, even now, in this exercise.


Returning to my description (and to the poster), I can isolate the elements that are horrific and uncanny and repeat them in a new description that is sufficiently different to avoid copying the Annabelle: Creation artwork. So what are the poster's elements of horror and the uncanny? As I see them:

  • isolation
  • innocence mocked through parody
  • religious faith mocked through parody
  • victimization
  • perversions of the Christian concepts of the crucifixion and the creation
  • confusion created by a maze of underground corridors and chambers
  • supernatural power displayed

With these elements in mind, a rewrite of the original description can perhaps salvage the scene, allowing it to be used in a work of one's own:


My senses on high alert, I stole glances to either side and over my shoulder, as I crept along the cold, damp corridor, feeling trapped by the ancient basement's gray stone walls, stone floor, and stone ceiling.


I was conscious of the tons of massive rock above me and of the cataclysm which would ensue should all that weight come tumbling down (not that it should), and I imagined the terrors that likely befell the poor lost souls shut away inside the subterranean chambers which opened off the warren of intersecting hallways—or would have opened, had they not been locked.


As I continued along the maze, I heard the grating of rusty hinges, as a great, thick iron door opened of its own accord. Its loud, high-pitched creaking noise made my heart shrink, even as I turned, staring with horror at the sight within the chamber thus revealed.


A boy lay upon an elevated stone slab inside a room resembling a tomb cut from a rock. He was naked but for a cloth laid over his groin. His arms were extended straight out, from his shoulders; his body was limp, his legs together. He was pale, and his eyes were closed. He seemed to have recently died—after having been crucified. Wounds from spikes driven through his wrists and ankles were crusted with the blood staining the altar upon which the body lay.


What had I stumbled upon? The result of the crucifixion of a child? What recent madness had happened here, in the bowels of a castle thought long deserted? Were the villains who'd committed this blasphemous murder still in secret residence? Was I being watched by the madmen who'd committed this unspeakable sacrilege?


Run! For God's sake, flee this damned place!


At my peril, in my foolishness, my curiosity greater than my wisdom, I stayed, gazing at the figure of torment within the chamber to which the open door had admitted my horrified gaze, until, aghast in contemplating the sight, I stumbled away from the open doorway, realizing my retreat had been underway only when my back encountered the immovable resistance of the corridor's opposite wall.


Now, as I continued to stare at the unfortunate boy, his eyes opened, revealing yet another horror: the whites were blood-red, his pupils elliptical and golden, as if ablaze with the fire of hell, an effect strengthened by the appearance, between his soft, pink lips, of a split serpent's tongue!


The features of his handsome face distorted, as a malevolent hatred akin to rage animated the corpse, its mouth opening as a voice more suitable to a demon than to a child, harshly croaked a plea both pathetic and horrendous: Help us!


Turning, I ran, finally, in headlong flight, along the stony floor, the demon-child's croaking supplication seeming to reverberate throughout the underground hallways and subterranean chambers, as if the labyrinth were the many mouths and throats of hell's damned souls, crying in unison, Help us! although, in their infernal state, neither deliverance nor succor was possible. All that was left them was this tableau of the damned, by which they not only tormented the living, but also continued their unholy protests against the Almighty whom, even in thethroes of their eternal torment, to curse and vilify.


This second description, inspired by the poster and by the unsuccessful attempt to capture in words, while avoiding copying, which would result, if included, as originally written, in my own, otherwise original work, in plagiarism, now works, for it is different enough to be my own, a work inspired by, rather than merely copied from, the original poster. It is itself original, instead of simply derivative.

Friday, December 28, 2018

Characters + Twist = Outcome

Copyright 2018 by Gary L. Pullman

It's possible to analyze the plot dynamics of horror fiction, whether a particular narrative or drama takes the form of a novel, a short story, a narrative poem, or a movie), in a variety of ways.

In the scheme proposed in this post, two (occasionally, more) characters are involved in a relationship of some sort, and an unknown, unusual or extraordinary twist causes or facilitates a significant outcome, which may or may not be catastrophic.


Movie: Hide and Seek (2005)
Characters: Dr. David Calloway and Emily Calloway
Relationship: Father and daughter
Twist: David is schizophrenic; he has an alter ego called "Charlie"
Outcome:  Charlie is killed after he attacks Emily (murder and attempted murder)


Movie: The Exorcist (1973)
Characters: Father Damien Karras and Regan MacNeil
Relationship: Father Karras, an exorcist, exorcises demon-possessed Regan
Twist: The demon possesses its true target, Father Karras
Outcome: Father Karras commits suicide, but Regan is delivered (deliverance)


Movie: The Others (2001)
Characters: Grace Stewart, Anne Stewart, and Nicholas Stewart
Relationship: Grace is the mother of Anne and Nicholas
Twist: Grace and her children are ghosts
Outcome: Grace discovers that she is in Limbo after having killed Anne and Nicholas and murdered herself (discovery of truth)

 
 Movie: The Sixth Sense (1999)
Characters: Malcolm Crowe and Cole Sear
Relationship: Malcolm is a psychologist; Nathan is one of his patients
Twist: Malcolm discovers he is a ghost (discovery of truth)
Outcome: Malcolm is able to rest in peace (acceptance)


Movie: Psycho (1960)
Characters: Norman Bates and his “mother”
Relationship: Norman is a motel owner; he lives with and takes care of his mother
Twist:  Norman is schizophrenic; “Mother” is Norman's alter ego, who kills a motel guest
Outcome: “Mother” completely takes over Norman's mind (destruction of personality)


Movie: The Most Dangerous Game (1924)
Characters: Sanger Rainsford and General Zarof
Relationship: Rainsford is Zaroff's guest
Twist: Zaroff hunts Rainsford
Outcome: Rainsford survives, after killing Zaroff (implied) (survival)

Friday, August 13, 2010

Charles Fort

Copyright 2010 by Gary L. Pullman


At the age of 42, Charles Fort inherited a small fortune from an uncle, which allowed him to quit work and pursue his hobby full time. A year later, his brother Clarence died, and Clarence’s portion of the inheritance was divided equally between Charles and his other brother, Raymond. Charles’ hobby was unusual, especially in 1916, the year that he first inherited his money. Although he wrote ten novels, only one was modestly successful.

Perhaps this lack of success in writing fiction is what caused him to turn his hand to nonfiction. He wrote a series of books in which he recorded bizarre incidents which, today, would be characterized as either paranormal or supernatural in nature. Among such incidents were reports he read in various world-class libraries of rains of frogs, snakes, and other animals; strange disappearances of people; visitations of ghosts and apparitions; unidentified flying objects; mysterious lights in the sky; the occurrence of spontaneous human combustion; and appearances of unlikely breasts.

Recounting reports of such phenomena in The Book of the Damned, New Lands, Lo!, and Wild Talents, Fort also formulated absurd theories to account for these objects, events, and experiences. His theories were not intended to be taken seriously--or, at least, not any more so than he believed anyone should take scientific theories. The fact that science was unable to explain such phenomena as those he recounted and, indeed, rejected them, suggested to Fort that science was limited in its ability to interpret reality and, consequently, did not deserve the nearly unlimited credit and honor that it arrogantly claimed for itself and its practitioners.

For example, Fort attributed many mysterious incidents to a visitation of extraterrestrial space travelers to the Earth or to their being stranded in a gigantic Sargasso Sea that orbited the planet, occasionally spilling one or another strange artifact upon the Earth. He likewise suggested that Martians were controlling events on Earth. These theories, he claimed, tongue in cheek, had as much explanatory value as (and possibly more than) scientific theories that rejected inconvenient facts as “damned.” He compiled such data, rather than reject it out of hand, in The Book of the Damned and subsequent volumes of different titles. Today, The Fortean Society, named in his honor, continues his work, publishing its results in the Fortean Times.

Admittedly, Fort was something of a crackpot who didn’t fit well into the society--or the science--of his day and is, as such, an interesting person in his own right, but why is he interesting to readers of Chillers and Thrillers, who are concerned with the theory and practice of writing horror stories?

I think he is of interest to such readers for at least two reasons. First, many of the phenomena that he identifies could serve as the inciting moment, or launch pad, for a horror story or novel. Assume that human flesh rains down upon the earth from a dark, overcast sky, as, according to Fort, it did on more than one occasion. Why? What caused such an unlikely event? Or why did fish or snakes suddenly fall from the heavens? The answers to such unusual questions should suggest some unusual possibilities, some of which might be horrific, indeed! (As I have already suggested, many of these same incidents could easily be the catalyst for a story as well.)

Second, Fort’s invention of theories suggests that a writer whose work includes bizarre incidents must have a theory that finally explains the origin, the cause, and the nature of these incidents, bizarre though they may be. Stephen King claims that he didn’t think he had to include an explanation of the remarkable events that unfold in his work, but, he says, his readers let him know, in no uncertain terms, that, yes, by God, he did have to explain himself. In Under the Dome, King offers multiple possibilities for the origin and the nature of the transparent barrier that descends over Chester’s Mill, Maine: aliens, rogue scientists, foreign terrorists are among these possibilities. The strangest (and, for me, the most intriguing) is that the dome might itself be a living organism of some sort. Outlandish? Perhaps, as Fort’s theories certainly were, probably by design. However, the very absurdity of Fort’s theories remind the writer of horror stories to offer a cause or a reason by which the bizarre incidents of his or her novel may be understood.

It is advisable for writers to acquaint themselves with criticism of Fort, too, of course, so as to have a balanced perspective regarding him and his work, and The Skeptic’s Dictionary helps in this regard, concluding, regarding Fort:

Fort was skeptical about scientific explanations because scientists sometimes argue "according to their own beliefs rather than the rules of evidence" and they suppress or ignore inconvenient data. He seems to have understood that scientific theories are models, not pictures, of reality, but he considered them to be little more than superstitions and myths. He seems to have had a profound misunderstanding of the nature of scientific theories. For, he criticized them for not being able to accommodate anomalies and for requiring data to fit. He took particular delight when scientists made incorrect predictions and he attacked what he called the "priestcraft" of science. Fort seems to have been opposed to science as it really is: fallible, human and tentative, after probabilities rather than absolute certainties. He seems to have thought that since science is not infallible, any theory is as good as any other.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Quick Tip: Monstrous Motivations

Copyright 2010 by Gary L. Pullman

To start, let’s list a dozen horror stories and the antagonists, or monsters, which each of them features. No, on second thought, let’s make that a baker’s dozen; thirteen seems a more appropriate number for horror:
Now, let’s list the motivation of each monster.

Wait a minute! you say. Monsters aren’t human (well, at least not all of them are); they don’t reason; they don’t have objectives; they don’t act upon emotions. They’re monsters!

You may have a point, logically speaking, but fiction isn’t logical--at least, not entirely. Sure, there’s a cause-and-effect relationship among the incidents that comprise a plot, but causes need not be reasons, any more than motives must be rational. Motives can be rational, but, in the broad sense, they can also be emotional or, for that matter, even instinctive or reflexive. So, yes, monsters do have motives.

Ergo, let’s list the motivation of each monster on our list:

As we’ve seen, monsters, even non-human ones, do have motives. Why? For dramatic, more than for realistic, purposes.

In reality, it is unlikely that creatures such as bogeymen, aliens, trolls, dragons, demons, vampires, gorillas, and ghosts have motives (other than, in the case of gorillas or other animal antagonists) that can be known or even surmised with anything approaching certainty. But, like a jury who is expected to convict a defendant who risks a life sentence or execution, readers want to know not only the who?, what?, when?, and where?, but, above all, the why?, before they’re willing to believe in the monster and to want its imprisonment or execution.

Besides, motivating a monster, even a non-human one, makes the monstrous antagonist at least somewhat understandable to the reader (or moviegoer). It’s hard to believe in an antagonist that is so alien from us that we cannot comprehend why it wants to spindle, fold, and mutilate the human characters in the story.

So, here’s the upshot of this “quick tip”: motivate your monster.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Quick Tip: Futurological Predictions as Grist for the Mill

Copyright 2009 by Gary L. Pullman


It is impossible to predict what shape horror fiction will take in the future. As Soren Kierkegaard points out, “Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” The same is true of fiction.

Nevertheless, there are some indications that the horror fiction of the future may address some of the concerns of the futurologist. As the science, or study, of the future, futurology attempts to discern future trends by studying present patterns and causes. Global warming, it might be argued, is an example of futurological thinking. At the heart of futurology are statistics and probability theory, but history, economics, mathematics, and most of the sciences also play key roles in efforts to discern possible and probable future events and to devise possible and probable future scenarios. As one article summarizes the science, “Future Studies is often summarized as being concerned with ‘three P’s and a W,’ or possible, probable, and preferable futures, plus wildcards, which are low probability but high impact events (positive or negative), should they occur” (“Futurology,” Wikipedia).

Of course, such a characterization is simplistic, as futurology also depends upon a nexus of other subordinate, often interrelated, disciplines and approaches, including anticipatory thinking protocols, systems thinking, causal layered analysis, environmental screening, the scenario method, the Delphi method, future history, monitoring, backcasting, back-view mirror analysis, cross-impact analysis, futures workshops, failure mode and effects analysis, futures biographies, futures wheels, relevance trees, simulation and modeling, social network analysis, systems engineering, trend analysis, morphological analysis, and technology forecasting.

The literary equivalents to futuristic societies are, perhaps, the dystopias and utopias of science fiction. In horror fiction, extrapolating from current, known scientific knowledge and theoretical understandings to possible or probable future states of affairs is also a way to anticipate the monsters to come. Some suppose that H. R. Giger’s biomechanical art and the short stories of Ray Bradbury which marry technology and art, such as “The Veldt,” point the direction to at least one likely future topic for horror fiction: mankind’s ambiguous and troubled relationship with the works of his own hands (and mind).

Needless to say, the very concept of futurology is itself very controversial.

Besides, fiction benefits from being fiction; it doesn’t have to be about actual, or real, situations; by nature, it is made up, invented, pretended, even when it is based upon actual events. However, an awareness of the predictions made by futurologists can certainly provide grist for the always-ravenous mill of the creative writer’s imagination.

Paranormal vs. Supernatural: What’s the Diff?

Copyright 2009 by Gary L. Pullman

Sometimes, in demonstrating how to brainstorm about an essay topic, selecting horror movies, I ask students to name the titles of as many such movies as spring to mind (seldom a difficult feat for them, as the genre remains quite popular among young adults). Then, I ask them to identify the monster, or threat--the antagonist, to use the proper terminology--that appears in each of the films they have named. Again, this is usually a quick and easy task. Finally, I ask them to group the films’ adversaries into one of three possible categories: natural, paranormal, or supernatural. This is where the fun begins.

It’s a simple enough matter, usually, to identify the threats which fall under the “natural” label, especially after I supply my students with the scientific definition of “nature”: everything that exists as either matter or energy (which are, of course, the same thing, in different forms--in other words, the universe itself. The supernatural is anything which falls outside, or is beyond, the universe: God, angels, demons, and the like, if they exist. Mad scientists, mutant cannibals (and just plain cannibals), serial killers, and such are examples of natural threats. So far, so simple.

What about borderline creatures, though? Are vampires, werewolves, and zombies, for example, natural or supernatural? And what about Freddy Krueger? In fact, what does the word “paranormal” mean, anyway? If the universe is nature and anything outside or beyond the universe is supernatural, where does the paranormal fit into the scheme of things?

According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, the word “paranormal,” formed of the prefix “para,” meaning alongside, and “normal,” meaning “conforming to common standards, usual,” was coined in 1920. The American Heritage Dictionary defines “paranormal” to mean “beyond the range of normal experience or scientific explanation.” In other words, the paranormal is not supernatural--it is not outside or beyond the universe; it is natural, but, at the present, at least, inexplicable, which is to say that science cannot yet explain its nature. The same dictionary offers, as examples of paranormal phenomena, telepathy and “a medium’s paranormal powers.”

Wikipedia offers a few other examples of such phenomena or of paranormal sciences, including the percentages of the American population which, according to a Gallup poll, believes in each phenomenon, shown here in parentheses: psychic or spiritual healing (54), extrasensory perception (ESP) (50), ghosts (42), demons (41), extraterrestrials (33), clairvoyance and prophecy (32), communication with the dead (28), astrology (28), witchcraft (26), reincarnation (25), and channeling (15); 36 percent believe in telepathy.

As can be seen from this list, which includes demons, ghosts, and witches along with psychics and extraterrestrials, there is a confusion as to which phenomena and which individuals belong to the paranormal and which belong to the supernatural categories. This confusion, I believe, results from the scientism of our age, which makes it fashionable for people who fancy themselves intelligent and educated to dismiss whatever cannot be explained scientifically or, if such phenomena cannot be entirely rejected, to classify them as as-yet inexplicable natural phenomena. That way, the existence of a supernatural realm need not be admitted or even entertained. Scientists tend to be materialists, believing that the real consists only of the twofold unity of matter and energy, not dualists who believe that there is both the material (matter and energy) and the spiritual, or supernatural. If so, everything that was once regarded as having been supernatural will be regarded (if it cannot be dismissed) as paranormal and, maybe, if and when it is explained by science, as natural. Indeed, Sigmund Freud sought to explain even God as but a natural--and in Freud’s opinion, an obsolete--phenomenon.

Meanwhile, among skeptics, there is an ongoing campaign to eliminate the paranormal by explaining them as products of ignorance, misunderstanding, or deceit. Ridicule is also a tactic that skeptics sometimes employ in this campaign. For example, The Skeptics’ Dictionary contends that the perception of some “events” as being of a paranormal nature may be attributed to “ignorance or magical thinking.” The dictionary is equally suspicious of each individual phenomenon or “paranormal science” as well. Concerning psychics’ alleged ability to discern future events, for example, The Skeptic’s Dictionary quotes Jay Leno (“How come you never see a headline like 'Psychic Wins Lottery'?”), following with a number of similar observations:

Psychics don't rely on psychics to warn them of impending disasters. Psychics don't predict their own deaths or diseases. They go to the dentist like the rest of us. They're as surprised and disturbed as the rest of us when they have to call a plumber or an electrician to fix some defect at home. Their planes are delayed without their being able to anticipate the delays. If they want to know something about Abraham Lincoln, they go to the library; they don't try to talk to Abe's spirit. In short, psychics live by the known laws of nature except when they are playing the psychic game with people.
In An Encyclopedia of Claims, Frauds, and Hoaxes of the Occult and Supernatural, James Randi, a magician who exercises a skeptical attitude toward all things alleged to be paranormal or supernatural, takes issue with the notion of such phenomena as well, often employing the same arguments and rhetorical strategies as The Skeptic’s Dictionary.

In short, the difference between the paranormal and the supernatural lies in whether one is a materialist, believing in only the existence of matter and energy, or a dualist, believing in the existence of both matter and energy and spirit. If one maintains a belief in the reality of the spiritual, he or she will classify such entities as angels, demons, ghosts, gods, vampires, and other threats of a spiritual nature as supernatural, rather than paranormal, phenomena. He or she may also include witches (because, although they are human, they are empowered by the devil, who is himself a supernatural entity) and other natural threats that are energized, so to speak, by a power that transcends nature and is, as such, outside or beyond the universe. Otherwise, one is likely to reject the supernatural as a category altogether, identifying every inexplicable phenomenon as paranormal, whether it is dark matter or a teenage werewolf. Indeed, some scientists dedicate at least part of their time to debunking allegedly paranormal phenomena, explaining what natural conditions or processes may explain them, as the author of The Serpent and the Rainbow explains the creation of zombies by voodoo priests.

Based upon my recent reading of Tzvetan Todorov's The Fantastic: A Structural Approach to the Fantastic, I add the following addendum to this essay.

According to Todorov:

The fantastic. . . lasts only as long as a certain hesitation [in deciding] whether or not what they [the reader and the protagonist] perceive derives from "reality" as it exists in the common opinion. . . . If he [the reader] decides that the laws of reality remain intact and permit an explanation of the phenomena described, we can say that the work belongs to the another genre [than the fantastic]: the uncanny. If, on the contrary, he decides that new laws of nature must be entertained to account for the phenomena, we enter the genre of the marvelous (The Fantastic: A Structural Approach to a Literary Genre, 41).
Todorov further differentiates these two categories by characterizing the uncanny as “the supernatural explained” and the marvelous as “the supernatural accepted” (41-42).

Interestingly, the prejudice against even the possibility of the supernatural’s existence which is implicit in the designation of natural versus paranormal phenomena, which excludes any consideration of the supernatural, suggests that there are no marvelous phenomena; instead, there can be only the uncanny. Consequently, for those who subscribe to this view, the fantastic itself no longer exists in this scheme, for the fantastic depends, as Todorov points out, upon the tension of indecision concerning to which category an incident belongs, the natural or the supernatural. The paranormal is understood, by those who posit it, in lieu of the supernatural, as the natural as yet unexplained.

And now, back to a fate worse than death: grading students’ papers.

My Cup of Blood

Anyone who becomes an aficionado of anything tends, eventually, to develop criteria for elements or features of the person, place, or thing of whom or which he or she has become enamored. Horror fiction--admittedly not everyone’s cuppa blood--is no different (okay, maybe it’s a little different): it, too, appeals to different fans, each for reasons of his or her own. Of course, in general, book reviews, the flyleaves of novels, and movie trailers suggest what many, maybe even most, readers of a particular type of fiction enjoy, but, right here, right now, I’m talking more specifically--one might say, even more eccentrically. In other words, I’m talking what I happen to like, without assuming (assuming makes an “ass” of “u” and “me”) that you also like the same. It’s entirely possible that you will; on the other hand, it’s entirely likely that you won’t.

Anyway, this is what I happen to like in horror fiction:

Small-town settings in which I get to know the townspeople, both the good, the bad, and the ugly. For this reason alone, I’m a sucker for most of Stephen King’s novels. Most of them, from 'Salem's Lot to Under the Dome, are set in small towns that are peopled by the good, the bad, and the ugly. Part of the appeal here, granted, is the sense of community that such settings entail.

Isolated settings, such as caves, desert wastelands, islands, mountaintops, space, swamps, where characters are cut off from civilization and culture and must survive and thrive or die on their own, without assistance, by their wits and other personal resources. Many are the examples of such novels and screenplays, but Alien, The Shining, The Descent, Desperation, and The Island of Dr. Moreau, are some of the ones that come readily to mind.

Total institutions as settings. Camps, hospitals, military installations, nursing homes, prisons, resorts, spaceships, and other worlds unto themselves are examples of such settings, and Sleepaway Camp, Coma, The Green Mile, and Aliens are some of the novels or films that take place in such settings.

Anecdotal scenes--in other words, short scenes that showcase a character--usually, an unusual, even eccentric, character. Both Dean Koontz and the dynamic duo, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, excel at this, so I keep reading their series (although Koontz’s canine companions frequently--indeed, almost always--annoy, as does his relentless optimism).

Atmosphere, mood, and tone. Here, King is king, but so is Bentley Little. In the use of description to terrorize and horrify, both are masters of the craft.

A bit of erotica (okay, okay, sex--are you satisfied?), often of the unusual variety. Sex sells, and, yes, sex whets my reader’s appetite. Bentley Little is the go-to guy for this spicy ingredient, although Koontz has done a bit of seasoning with this spice, too, in such novels as Lightning and Demon Seed (and, some say, Hung).

Believable characters. Stephen King, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, and Dan Simmons are great at creating characters that stick to readers’ ribs.

Innovation. Bram Stoker demonstrates it, especially in his short story “Dracula’s Guest,” as does H. P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, Shirley Jackson, and a host of other, mostly classical, horror novelists and short story writers. For an example, check out my post on Stoker’s story, which is a real stoker, to be sure. Stephen King shows innovation, too, in ‘Salem’s Lot, The Shining, It, and other novels. One might even argue that Dean Koontz’s something-for-everyone, cross-genre writing is innovative; he seems to have been one of the first, if not the first, to pen such tales.

Technique. Check out Frank Peretti’s use of maps and his allusions to the senses in Monster; my post on this very topic is worth a look, if I do say so myself, which, of course, I do. Opening chapters that accomplish a multitude of narrative purposes (not usually all at once, but successively) are attractive, too, and Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child are as good as anyone, and better than many, at this art.

A connective universe--a mythos, if you will, such as both H. P. Lovecraft and Stephen King, and, to a lesser extent, Dean Koontz, Bentley Little, and even Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child have created through the use of recurring settings, characters, themes, and other elements of fiction.

A lack of pretentiousness. Dean Koontz has it, as do Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child, Bentley Little, and (to some extent, although he has become condescending and self-indulgent of late, Stephen King); unfortunately, both Dan Simmons and Robert McCammon have become too self-important in their later works, Simmons almost to the point of becoming unreadable. Come on, people, you’re writing about monsters--you should be humble.

Longevity. Writers who have been around for a while usually get better, Stephen King, Dan Simmons, and Robert McCammon excepted.

Pacing. Neither too fast nor too slow. Dean Koontz is good, maybe the best, here, of contemporary horror writers.


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