Story Structure - Floors (Persona)

Hi, folks, I'm continuing my series on story structure. Today, I'm going to share an analogy about floors.  A floor is the surface of a room where you stand. It's flat, low and static. The sure steady surface in your novel is your author persona. You are going to put flooring into every book you write so it makes sense to me that you understand it and lay it flat.

Persona is something no one says much but just like your characters on the page and your plot is on the page, you are on the page.  I'm not talking about "author intrusiveness"  which must be scrubbed out. This is the Voice -- a steady assurance from your inner diva, child, or chipmunk who is telling your story. I talked about this some in my post "author persona."

Make sure you have decent floor material. If you are victim, dang, it's going to leak into your book, unless you start building some inner chutzpah. If you are full of pride. Fail. If you are full of humility. Fail. If you are boring in real life you must find an inner persona who is not boring. I hope these thoughts are making you think about what is bleeding on the page. You know, this is what I think: put down the expensive stuff -- the best part of you.

You must cultivate the ability to be the same voice every time you dive into your story. I like this part of writing. I like tossing off all the ups and downs of me and the waves of this life that are pounding me into the shore. I feel the stuff of my everday life flowing away as I put on my alter-ego -- SuperScribe. Rock steady. Unchanging. Able to spin out stories that will capture the planet. Yes, I have fun when I am writing. I laugh my head off. I don't shy away from the glories of muhaha!. I let myself be larger than life.  I slip into this persona and let the words flow.  It's exciting and comforting at the same time. Sometime your writing persona just might help your real self grow and be better.

Well, that is a little chat. Put some solid flooring in your books.  It can be a rough floor or smooth as glass. I'm pretty sure that Gary Paulsen lays in dirt floors, but Gail Carson Levine places down an awesome kind of flooring imbued with magic sparkles.  Your floor will be unique, so don't try to Mark Twain, J. D. Salinger, or Harper Lee us. OK? Find the original you. See you next week with more on story structure.


Here is the doodle of the week: "Abstract Cat."

Henceforth I ask not good fortune. I myself am good fortune.  Walt Whitman

April Showers: Author Persona!

Hi, folks. I had the opportunity to hear Paul Christensen, poet and professor at Texas A&M, speak about author persona. He lit all kinds of fire in me about storytelling. This here is going to be Texas rain shower, the kind that makes you pull over the car and wait it out. Author persona is about who is telling your story. I know, you are, but it's not quite you, is it?

Persona is a term used by actors. It's the character played by the actor. Back in the day, ancient actors used a theatrical mask when playing a part. They held that mask in front of them and became the character behind the mask. Eventually the mask went by the wayside, and actors simply put forth the character. The mask was a symbol -- the everyday person is gone from this body, and a conjurer has appeared who brings forth voices. I'm calling it the aggrandized self. Who is telling your stories? Do you have a mask? Can you define it?

I'm going to make a confession. I think about the characters. I think about the plot. I delve into the information. I don't think I've ever thought about who is telling my story, my author persona, but I had noted that my stories seem to be coming from different places within me. The person telling the story, is me but not exactly. I'm a mouse in life. I'm a lion on paper. I've always noticed this difference. I love it when someone reads my work and looks at me and says, "Who are you?" I hate it when someone reads my work and goes "meh". I've gotten a sense that "meh" writing means that the mouse-me is getting in the way of the lion-me.

On top of that, I've always worried about writing in more than one genre. I mean that's crazy, right? I'm happy to report, this whole persona thing put my worries to rest forever. I have a several author personas not just one. All four are easy to quantify. I have a quintessential storyteller who sits on the back porch and doles out wisdom and lore to the neighbors in equal measures. I also have a wise, joke-cracking, fedora-wearing, unbound comedian lurking in here too. There's a twelve year old girl with way too much responsibility on her shoulders who feels there is so much more in the universe and no one will listen to her. And last I have this children's librarian who loves to read to the kids coming into her library who have limited opportunities and need to know, oh, so much more about the world. These are my personas. Not me, but the pieces of me, "the contradictory multitudes" spoken of by Walt Whitman in "Song of Myself" who tell my stories.

I think understanding who is telling your stories will help you execute them with more confidence. Confidence is everything, folks. The great writers put aside the hope for publication, the need for fame, the question if they will suceed or not etc. and give the reins to the "Persona" who does not fail. Let your persona(s) emerge. Here's the deal -- thank you, Paul Christensen -- the 'persona' will love wider, forgive more, be unafraid, and know the answers. The 'persona' will channel the hidden meaning on the page. What mask are you wearing? Are you afraid to put it on? Are you letting the noise of your real life hamper the storytelling of the "persona?" Oh, heady stuff, writer friends.

I really hope this helps. See you next week


Here is this week's doodle: "Baby."


Here is the fiery quote of the day:


I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world. Walt Whitman