How A Ballerina Danced Her Way Into Her Own Conflict

Today I’m going to write about my character, Rahjni, and how I set up a scene before I even begin typing. Rahjni is one of the twelve characters in my current work-in-progress, Sunrise. 

Choosing the setting and tone…

While I was working on Rahjni’s backstory, I had envisioned her as a professional ballerina. Multiple Sclerosis took away her ability to dance. I had to demonstrate the consequences of her illness by how she reacts to them, and  I didn’t want to get weighed down by too much backstory.   Late last week, I arrived at the scene where I had to have Rahjni deal with all the issues she’s been avoiding. The scene had to be intense and show her struggles. To keep up the pace I’ve set meant I  had to arrive at the scene goal quickly and without making it seem rushed.

Before I set out to write Rahjni’s scene, I had no idea what setting I’d be using. I had an understanding of what I wanted the scene to accomplish; Rahjni needed to uncover a hidden aspect of herself that led her to the point where the story takes place. I had to figure out her own unique way of bringing her secret to the surface. My reason for going with my intuition on making Rahjni a ballerina soon made itself clear when I envisioned telling her story via the ballet. The moment that idea entered my mind, something clicked, and I knew I was on the right track.

Now that I had a setting in mind, I set out to find the ballet that would serve as both Rahjni’s final professional role as a ballerina and also run as a parallel story to what she’s endured throughout her life. I went on the internet and studied different ballets thinking it would take hours to find the right one.  Ten minutes into my search I found the ballet that meshed perfectly with the scene goal: La Bayadère. Translated in English, it means Temple Dancer. From the moment I read the synopsis, I knew this ballet was the perfect fit for Rahjni’s conflict reveal scene. I found a youtube video of  some of the dances, specifically the Kingdom of Shades  and the death scene of Nikiya, the temple dancer.  I immediately pictured how the whole scene would play out after watching both dances, and I wrote out a quick draft. After I finished writing the scene, I loved it, but man did it go to places I never expected!

Watching two dances wasn’t enough to absorb and appreciate the whole ballet. I purchased the score performed by the London Chamber Orchestra, and the next evening I watched the complete ballet performed by the London Royal Ballet with my daughters. I paid close attention to the visuals, props, colors, costumes and music, taking notes on each aspect. I’ve also been jogging to the score to internalize the music.

For further assistance, I joined a ballet forum in hopes of finding a source where I can find what piece of music corresponds to a particular dance. I found out that it varies from ballet company to ballet company, so I opted to keep the name of the pieces out, which would of only pulled the reader out of the intense visuals I wrote into the scene.

Character development builds the story.

The middle of a story has always been the most difficult for me and is typically the last thing I write. A major aha moment for me was when I first realized it’s the character that leads to the conflict. No matter how carefully and methodically I’ve plotted a story, in almost everything I’ve written, the conflict is the most difficult for me. I need to spend a lot of time with the characters to get a sense of who they are.  Their struggles unlock the door to the conflict that should seamlessly flow into the climax of the story. When I started writing Sunrise, I knew the conflict I outlined wasn’t strong. I mused over which of the twelve characters would bring about the conflict that would push them all to the climax that I had already written. Yesterday, one of my other characters revealed the conflict, and I wrote out the scene.

After I completed Rahjni’s ballet scene,  the conflict of this particular character  revealed itself organically and had  presented me with a new thread I hadn’t expected. Now I needed to choreograph that scene and find a setting. The answer came to me while I was working out at the gym. I posed a question about what truth the conflict will reveal, and a whole other strange and surreal setting came to me in full color! I took my daughters out to lunch and then we headed over to the library where I wrote out the scene.

My last few writing sessions have been quite productive. I got out of them  the main story conflict, a character conflict, plus a character reveal scene.  I also began structuring a new story inspired by my husband.  I’m the type that prefers to have a lot of projects ready to go. It keeps me motivated.

Oh Those Battling Hemispheres!

Discomfort and inspiration come as a pair. It isn’t something writers usually talk about—at least I don’t often hear it discussed in forums or blogs I visit. Even a search through Google didn’t yield many results. What has been discussed is its link towards madness, and I’m fairly certain everyone out there who is right-brain oriented can sense this connection.

There is a level of bravery required to fully surrender to inspiration. In this realm, some crazy, wild, unexpected and unusual ideas can spring out of your mind. Sometimes what comes at you can be so intense, you’d swear someone or something is forcing you to throw away every reservation you have, and you write everything that pops into your mind. “Yes! Someone make me stop! I’m on fire!” you proclaim loudly. And then it all ends. Splat! “What just happened to me? I was so excited only a millisecond ago!” You look at your screen, highlight everything you’d just written and consider erasing it. Don’t do it!

If you learn to keep balance between creativity and self-judgement, you’ll develop that masterpiece you’ve always dreamed of. The right brain is fearless, unbeatable, unstoppable, all powerful. The left brain is wussy, over-analytical, vapid and self-defeating. But you need it to make sense of the amazing stuff your right brain produced for your story. It’s a constant battle between these two hemispheres. Each time I think I’ve built a permanent bridge between the two, a bomb blows it to pieces, and I’m forced to rebuild to keep the balance.

With my current manuscript, Sunrise, the whole concept of the story was foreign to me when I first started writing it. Between the omniscient narration and my large cast of main characters, I kept asking myself if I was nuts to put myself through all this. But now, 50,000 words in, I’m so fully engrossed in the story—and curious about how it will all end—my inspiration screams louder than my fear.

Tipping the balance in favor of inspiration.

This is what being in the zone feels like and why I love writing so much.  This realm is free from judgement, and each time you visit, it’s like your traveling to some foreign land. There’s never a dull moment there. Even as an outliner, I have no idea what my right brain is going to throw at me when I visit the zone.  The one thing I find most exciting and humbling as a writer is that structure is never permanent; it can be knocked down, and oftentimes is.  Just don’t visit the zone while driving. It can be hazardous and more distracting than talking on a cell phone!

A better bridge can be built.

If you want to write your best story, realize nothing is permanent. No character, plot device or witty phrase is too sacred to sacrifice. I find by internalizing this, I keep myself permanently open to inspiration. There is definitely a level of faith required here. Faith that inspiration will come around whenever you need it. It will, as long as you’re open to receive it.

My plotting stages of Sunrise

  • Developed the story structure
  • Developed the characters, their personalities and  arcs.
  • Laid out all the chapters and wrote summaries.
  • Story research
  • Made a timeline of the various story threads.
  • Started building the physical attributes of my story world.
  • Rearranged the chapters as the story became clearer
  • Started writing the manuscript.

 

An outline is only a skeleton.

Once you start adding the meat, new possibilities emerge. If it’s one thing I learned, the right brain isn’t a vegetarian. It likes a lot of meat, and if you’re receptive enough, you’ll be delighted to discover its appetite is limitless, and it has no understanding of writer’s block.

It can be exhausting to rework ideas, but my past experiences remind me when I pay attention to the images my right brain presents, my scenes are stronger and resonate more.  I was recently given the image of a green flame, and I had no idea what it meant. I put it into the story, and it made the scene very effective. I knew I’d eventually figure out its significance. After I wrote the scene, I found my answer, went back in and added the new information. End of chapter!

Ideas are recycled.

Because I listened to my right brain, it led to my getting rid of two characters. The first didn’t drive the plot forward, but I used some of her backstory for another character.  I had also written a minor character in the first chapter who was only supposed to usher in the inciting incident. He was so strong, he ended up replacing my original antagonist, but I used some of his backstory on the new character. I also added a gray parrot to the cast, rearranged the chapters and changed the resolution.  Now, as I passed the mid-point, I’m expecting even more changes.

Make your voice fit the story.

I consider myself a storyteller first and a writer second. I say this because I focus my writing around my story and not the other way around. I’ll make whatever adjustments are necessary to make the story work. And I’ve made quite a few all ready! This  all leads back to my blog about Donna Summer and how she explained she made her voice fit the music and not the other way around—which  would’ve made her voice sound forced and unnatural.  This philosophy can be applied to all forms of artistic expression.  It’s about the art, not the artist—at least that’s how I see it.  When I first made this subtle shift in mindset, it brought my writing to a whole new level.  I wonder if Donna Summer read the Tao Te Ching!

Let’s Just Go Home And Play Parcheesi!

As a writer, I’m always astounded how a comment will strike me in such a way that I’ll want to write about it. While I was trying to find my way to the Kapolei library, I couldn’t remember what street to turn on, and I ended up passing the entrance. I pulled over to the left lane, in front of  the stop light, and my car ended up in a diagonal position with the rear still partially in the right lane. My eldest daughter, Daphne, voiced her displeasure with the car’s position—she’s extremely fussy over the most peculiar things. My youngest, Tiggy, then said to me, “Oh, let’s just go home and play Parcheesi.” Only she didn’t know how to play Parcheesi. She had recently gotten a game set and knew all the games…except for Parcheesi.  Her comment made me laugh because she sounded serious and way older than her seven years.

I knew I had to use Tiggy’s phrase in my book, and when I returned home, I went online and studied the history of Parcheesi. When I learned about its roots in Ancient India, I had  a flash of inspiration, and  Pachisi  is now in my work-in-progress, Sunrise.  I really like how it fits into the story.

All of this clearly demonstrates how inspiration comes when least expected. Keep your ears open to the silliness in life, and you too may find a treasure buried within it.

Update: Tiggy learned to play Parcheesi and won the first game. A fitting reward!