  Drama
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| "It's hard enough to write a good drama, it's much harder to write a good comedy, and it's hardest of all to write a drama with comedy. Which is what life is." - Jack Lemmon |
| ASIN: B000FC0SIM |
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To most people, the life of a stay-at-home mom is severely lacking in drama. Even I tend to consider it fairly mundane. However, lately I've noticed a great deal of drama, and I'd like to discuss it while somehow working in my introduction.
A quick background check on Scottiegazelle will find that I am a stay-at-home mom of three kids (ages four, two, and five monthes). I graduated from college in Atlanta, Georgia with a Bachelor's in both Creative Writing and Astrophysics. Like many others on this site, writing has always been a lifelong dream of mine.
While many folks here share some similarities, no two lives are alike. What makes us different, even those in similar situations, are the daily dramas we go through. Those same moments can be easily incorporated into our writing.
Look around you. What has happened to you today, or this week, that could be the basis of a story? How many small things can you build to one large, cumulative point?
For me, it was a shower. After an eight hour drive (with three kids, remember) to a family reunion where I didn't feel welcome, all I wanted one night was a nice, hot shower. So many little things went wrong over the course of the day that a broken showerhead was the "kicker"; the moment where I made my dramatic stand, so to say. Though the struggle may not become an epic tale, it can still make for an interesting story.
I've noticed this happening in various books I've been reading lately. One book* had a protagonist who found out, after a ten hour flight from Taiwan (hence severe jet lag), that her previous landlord had filed charges against her because the moving company she hired stole not only all the protagonist's belongings, but also the appliances in the apartment she was renting. As she wandered around in a daze, a police officer mistook her jet lag for drunkeness and reached out to help her. She wound up slugging him with handbag and going to jail for assualting an officer. In another book**, the protagonist sums it up nicely when she says, "It all seemed so innocent: a trip to the soda fountain, a chance talk with Amy. And then it all turned around and bit her." In short, three simple things turned into one complex mess.
So it is with our writing. Rather than just slamming the reader in the face with one large problem, consider breaking it down into "mini-dramas" and build the tension gradually. Of course, this is more difficult in a short story than a novel; we don't want our readers to think "get it over with, already." So make sure the tension is realistic, and try to use only one or two instances to build up, rather than three or four.
In the meantime, think about those little problems in your life and how they seem to grow. Add one or two to your writing to increase the stress the main character is under. No matter how mundane your life is, somewhere in your daily grind is drama.
* What a Girl Wants by Kristin Billerbeck
** Time Will Tell by Robin Jones Gunn
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Excerpt: Whenever anyone would start to complain about his or her lot in life, Ray needed only to touch his cheek, run his dirty, callused hands down the row of scars there and nod. "There are times when life hands us more than we think we can bear," he'd say as if trying to cover up pride, and a sadness deeper than a river.
| |  | Invalid Item
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#620079 by Not Available. |
Excerpt: I clumped down the sidewalk in my ensemble, headed for the park where Kyle was shooting hoops. A few kids stopped and stared but I figured they were impressed with my new look and ignored them. The only bad thing was I caught one incredibly high heel in a crack and almost fell on my keister.
| | | Invalid Item
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#859906 by Not Available. |
Excerpt: She screams his name, but the roar of a passing semi drowns her out. He hears neither her nor the rig, nor does he seem to feel the rush of air forced into the truck, rocking it on its shocks. She watches as he continues to strain, every inch of visible skin a pipework of twisting blood vessels. She wants to reach out to him, but is scared of what his flesh might feel like. She is ashamed of this thought, but still does not touch him. He looks as though he may burst.
And then it is over.
Excerpt: “Sugar,” entreated the elderly man in an oversized Hawaiian shirt and pair of orange shorts that didn’t quite cover two bony, wrinkled knees. “This little girl doesn’t want her campsite. We could rent a tent and . . .”
Little? If I’d been a bull in a bullring, I would have pawed the ground; the man was waving a red flag in front of me. “Sorry, Mister,” I said. “I’m not giving up my campsite. I’ve decided to keep it.”
Excerpt: I ran back to her room and she pointed up to her ceiling where it was bowed in two places and cracked down the middle. Water was streaming out of both of them. We quickly found two buckets to catch the leaks. We checked the other rooms and found another room to be in just as bad a shape. We then realized that the popcorn sound had been our shingles popping off the roof one by one. We found buckets to catch all the leaks. Great, I thought, a leaking ceiling in the middle of a hurricane.
| | | Invalid Item
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#986216 by Not Available. |
Excerpt: The heavy scents of Sunflowers and Tommy Girl assailed my nostrils as I looked to my left at Renee Hilbrowter. She whispered her opening speech under her breath while blinking over a mascara wand. With her perfect posture, beautiful blond hair, and tendency to think well on her feet, she was my biggest competition. At least I knew I had her beat in the talent department. She planned on singing the "Look at this stuff, isn't it neat?" song from The Little Mermaid. I'm sure it has a real title, but I never cared enough to hear what it was. Renee sang like a cow at every rehearsal, not that I didn't like her. She just sang like a cow.
Excerpt: The tiger screamed with newfound enthusiasm at this unexpected break in his mundane routine. My faithful companion, bless her heart, accepted the challenge with an equal enthusiasm and fierce protectiveness that was awesome to behold. Only problem was, I was still attached to the harness on her back.
Excerpt: “I don’t care if the Pepper is feeyooshaw,” he said, laughing. I could tell he felt a certain pride in knowing more colors than red, black, and green.
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#742077 by Not Available. |
Excerpt: Faye buzzed her into Arthur's office and I buzzed in behind her. In my excitement of finally getting the chance to know what they were doing, I almost flew straight into the face of Arthur, who let out a little squeak of surprise by my appearance.
| |  | Rain (ASR)
Love in unexpected places; sometimes see treasure's value after it's gone.
#988262 by Kathryn Justice |
Excerpt: She steps closer to the window and looks out. It is raining. She usually feels indifferent about rain, but today it comforts her; the gentle sound of it against the window. and the pattern of narrow, crossing paths made by drops that slide down the glass. She puts her arms on the sill, and rests her forehead against the window pane. |
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| What real-life incidents have you used in your fictional writing? What could you use? Send me your stories and comments! |
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Drama: July 13, 2005 Issue [#490]
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