John Truby

A Conversation with John Truby

I had the great honor of interviewing John Truby, a revered story consultant, legendary writing teacher, and author of the seminal book The Anatomy of Story: 22 Steps to Becoming a Master Storyteller, which guides writers towards constructing effective, multifaceted narratives.

His latest book The Anatomy of Genres: How Story Forms Explain the Way the World Works is another deep dive, this time into the study of genres. We talked specifically about the unique advantages and challenges of the memoir genre, and John gave some incredible insights about how blending memoir with another genre (can you guess which one?) can offer a brilliant solution.


John Truby is the founder and director of Truby’s Writers Studio. Over the past thirty years, he has taught more than fifty thousand students worldwide, including novelists, screenwriters, and TV writers. Together, these writers have generated more than fifteen billion dollars at the box office.

Based on the lessons in his award-winning class, Great Screenwriting, his book The Anatomy of Story draws on a broad range of philosophy and mythology, offering fresh techniques and insightful anecdotes alongside Truby's own unique approach for how to build an effective, multifaceted narrative.

Just as The Anatomy of Story changed the way writers develop stories, The Anatomy of Genres: How Story Forms Explain the Way the World Works will enhance their quality and expand the impact they have on the world.

The Anatomy of Genres is a step-by-step guide to understanding and using the basic building blocks of the story world. He details the three ironclad rules of successful genre writing, and analyzes more than a dozen major genres and the essential plot events, or “beats,” that define each of them.

Simply put, the storytelling game is won by mastering the structure of genres.

 

KARIN GUTMAN: In your book The Anatomy of Genres: How Story Forms Explain the Way the World Works, you say that everything we've been told about story is actually the opposite in reality. What do you mean by that?
 

JOHN TRUBY: We think about stories as entertainment, as what we do at the end of our day to escape reality. It's actually the opposite. Stories are first. Story is not a luxury, it is the reality itself.
 
Story heightens reality, so that we can see the deeper patterns underneath. Just as there is a deep structure to a story, there is the deeper structure to the reality that we live in, and what stories do at their best is show us that deeper structure in our lives, so that we can control it, we can work with it, we can do what we need to do to make it better.
 
It's why the first chapter is titled “The World as Story.” We don't just tell stories, we are stories. That begins with the very first story that we become when we're born. We go through story stages that I talk about in my first book, The Anatomy of Story, which are the seven basic story structure steps. The first step is weakness/need, and the second is desire.
 
As soon as we're born, we have that weakness/need, which is we've got to have some food and mother's milk is the desire line. That's the goal. As we get a little bit older, we start to distinguish other characters in the story besides me, the hero, and we realize some of those people are allies and some of those people are opponents who are preventing us from getting our goals.
 
Story tells us how the world works, and it tells us how to live successfully in the world. Genres, as different types of stories, offer us different windows into the world. Each genre gives a different understanding of how the world works. It gives us a moral vision, or a different life philosophy, for how to live a successful life.
 
I start off each chapter talking about what these life philosophies are and how they differ from what we think about these genres.
 
KARIN: Can you share some of the life philosophies?
 

JOHN: Sure, some examples are:
 
·       MYTH represents a journey to understand oneself and gain immortality. In other words, myth is all about immortality. If you can't get it in the afterlife, is it possible to get some kind of immortality in the life we live here?
 
·       MEMOIR is not about the past, it's about creating your future. When I say that to people, it's always a big moment, because Oh no, memoir is the most past oriented of those story forms. In a certain way it is, but that's not the purpose of it. The purpose is about changing our future in a very deep and meaningful way.
 
·       FANTASY is about finding the magic in the world and in ourselves, so that we can turn life into art, and so we can make our own lives a work of art.
 
·       DETECTIVE FICTION shows us how to think successfully by comparing different stories to learn what is true.
 
·       And finally LOVE STORIES, which I talk about as the highest of all the genres. Love stories reveal that happiness comes from mastering the moral act of loving another person.
 
KARIN: Why is the study of genres so important for storytellers?
 

JOHN: First of all, as writers we need to know what the plot beats are in these genres that we're writing. Because if you don't have that, you're not even in the game. But that's really only the beginning, that's the first step.
 
What's really valuable about the genres, and what is really the key to getting the most out of them and affecting the reader, is to be able to express the life philosophy that each genre has embedded inside the plot. That aspect of theme is the thing that most writers don't get. I consider the theme to be the most misunderstood of all the major writing skills. The only thing writers know is that you don't want to preach to the audience. You don't want to write on the nose, and so they avoid it altogether. And what they've just done is given up the most powerful aspect of a story, in terms of affecting the audience, that you have.
 
KARIN: How do you define theme?
 

JOHN: I define theme differently than most people. The usual definition of theme is subject matter; for example, it might be racism. That is a subject to me.
 
Theme is the moral vision of the author. It is a view of how to live successfully in this world with other people. How do we get our desires without hurting or destroying others? Oftentimes when people hear this definition of theme, they think, Oh, you're preaching to the audience. Not at all, it’s the reverse of that. You express that through the characters, as the hero and the opponent compete over the same goal. Both of those characters should have moral flaws, and in the act of competition we explore the deeper moral issues of what each is going through to try to get what they want in this life.
 
KARIN: I love that you say “memoir is not about the past, but creating the future.” Can you offer some perspective on memoir as a genre?
 

JOHN: Sure. For each genre I list, what I call, the life story that the genre is really about at the deepest level.
 
So for Horror, the deeper life story is religion. Action is really about success. Myth tracks the life process that anyone would go through over their entire lifespan.
 
Memoir and Coming of Age—I put them in the same chapter for a reason—are about creating the self. So, memoir is very deep. The difference is that memoir is about creating the self through nonfiction techniques, while the Coming of Age story is about creating the self through fiction techniques. But they're doing the same thing.
 
Memoir is brilliant at allowing us to look back at our entire life—we're able to pull out what is unique and valuable, what makes us a unique individual. It's already been shaped quite a bit as we've lived our life, but the act of telling our memoir refines that to a much greater degree because now we can see the larger patterns, the deeper structures that have been hidden from us. Oftentimes what we track is the script that may have been formed from a very early age. Maybe it worked for us to solve the problems at that age, but we're much older than that now and there's a good chance that that script does not work to solve those problems. It actually is part of the problem. And so, memoir gives us this big picture view of our life, and then that allows us to be able to make choices going forward, into the future, to create the rest of our lives in a way that is much more beneficial to us and to be the person that we want to be.
 
KARIN:  You say that some people tend to get caught up in the tropes of a particular genre. What do you mean by that?
 

JOHN: It's one of the biggest misconceptions that writers currently have. They think they know the value of these tropes, these individual story beats, but they think about them individually. They say, “Well, I'll grab this trope and that trope,” and it can be a character type, it can be a plot beat, it can be a symbol, it can be a tagline. “I'll grab these different tropes and put them together in my story.”
 
No, it doesn't work that way. The difference between trope and genre is the difference between an individual beat and an entire story system. By that I mean it's a plot system where the beats have been worked out and in the right order. When I say ‘right order’ that doesn't mean you have to do them in that order. But they've been worked out over decades and sometimes centuries to give us the most dramatic version of that genre that we can get. It is the sequence of these individual beats that really gives us the powerful effect of genre.
 
If you're thinking in terms of tropes, you're getting about 1/10 of the true power of your own storytelling ability. You're not even scratching the surface.
 
In fact, the first requirement of a writer, in whatever genre you're working in, is to know what those beats are and their basic order. There's typically 15 to 20 in each genre. Once you know that, then it's your job to transcend the genre. Transcending is how you do a story form in a way that no one else has done it. It's the way you stand out and separate yourself from the crowd.
 
KARIN: With memoir, you say that the genre itself is transcendent.
 

JOHN: That is correct, because transcending the genre, in broad terms, is about getting into the deep theme of that form. Memoir is about the deep theme in every single beat. It's automatically about that. It's the most explicitly thematic of all the genres and that is both a strength and a weakness. It's a strength because it means the most powerful of all elements of storytelling—expressing the theme of how to live—is part of your story. Even without you doing anything, it's going to be there. The negative part is that it can be preachy and on the nose, and you have to be very careful about that.
 
KARIN: Can you talk about the first story beat—weakness/need—as it pertains to memoir?
 

JOHN:  It's the first of the seven major structure steps in every one of the genres that I talk about.
 
Weakness has to do with the internal flaw that is so severe that it is ruining the hero's life. In Anatomy of Story I describe two major types of this flaw. One is psychological. This is a flaw that is hurting the hero but no one else. The other type is a moral flaw. That is, the hero is hurting other people. Typically, it's because they don't understand their psychological flaw, and therefore they lash out and say, I can't figure out what's hurting me, so I'm going to make you pay for it. So, it has negative ramifications for others. The need then of that character is to overcome that flaw, or flaws, by the end of the story.
 
Writers tend to think of the word ‘need’ in a negative way. It's actually positive. It's what the character needs to do to fix their life by the end of the story. What the story is really about is solving that internal flaw and if you don't solve it, you fail as a storyteller.
 
KARIN: How does this relate specifically to memoir?
 

JOHN: Since memoir often focuses on childhood, this can be problematic for writers. For one, the younger the character is, the less able you are as the writer to establish a moral flaw, because kids can do things that hurt people, but then aren’t responsible for it because they're completely unaware and have no control over that. So that limits what you can do in terms of setting up what the character needs to fix.
 
The other problem is that the main opponent is usually a family member, where the imbalance of power between the child and the parents is so great. It makes the hero a victim, and it makes the parents come across as evil opponents. You never want to tell a story where the hero is a victim. Typically, the weakness/need of the child in a memoir is simply that they don't understand. The parents are doing things that are hurtful to them. It leads to a passive hero, which is why I say in the memoir chapter to always look for both a moral as well as a psychological flaw for this character that can play out over the course of the story.
 
To be a moral flaw, it's got to be an internal flaw that is explicitly hurting at least one other person in the story. Otherwise, it's strictly psychological. Memoir is especially strong in the psychological flaw area. They're very focused on that. But again, for various reasons, they typically are not as good at setting up the moral flaw of the individual. Instead, they give the moral flaw to the opponents in the story.
 
KARIN:  What would you recommend? That they grow into the moral flaw?
 

JOHN: Exactly. The older they get, the more responsibility they get, and the more they are responsible for any hurt they inflict on others. It's also quite realistic. So, in solving the story problem, you're also matching reality, which is that a child may start with strictly a psychological flaw, but at some point, they're going to become an adult and at some point, they've got to take responsibility.
 
KARIN: With regard to the antagonist of a story, memoir writers often feel like they are their own antagonist. From your perspective, isn’t it also important to have an external opponent?
 

JOHN: Yes. I hear this all the time. Writers say, “Well, my opponent is myself.” Well, that's good. That's the weakness/need, the first structure step. Every good character and story have an internal opponent. You also have to have at least one external opponent. And if you want plot, you need to have more than one. It’s that simple.
 
The best stories attack from outside and they attack from inside.
 
KARIN: You write that point of view in memoir doesn't simply show what happened, it's a different way of sequencing time. What do you mean by that?
 

JOHN: Let's be honest, there are large chunks of your life that aren't dramatically interesting. And yet, a story is about the most dramatic beats of your life, or of that particular story. So you run into a problem, which is: how do I tell a story that hits the seven major structure steps, which are the seven steps required for any good story? It's why so many memoirs use the storytelling frame, which is a way of sequencing the story where you typically start at the end point of the story. You start at the end of the battle scene that creates a trigger for the author to say, how did I get here? How did this happen?
 
That triggers them to go back, into the past, which is where we establish the weakness/need of that character, and then we sequence the plot going forward.
 
KARIN: I think Mary Karr refers to this approach to structure as a “flash forward” in her book The Art of Memoir.
 

JOHN: Yeah, there are different names for it.
 
Now, why is that so valuable? It's because as soon as you are in the mind of a character who's telling you a story, it gives you tremendous freedom with the reader to say, “I am going to tell this story, not necessarily in chronological order. I'm going to tell it any way I want, because I'm in my head.” And the mind goes all over the place. It gives you a lot of benefits, which includes taking out all those boring time periods. It densifies the story, it compacts the story, it makes it much more dramatic, and it makes it much more appealing to the reader.
 
It allows you to revisit time in the sequence that you want. Normally it’s chronological, but it's curated chronological. It's the most important chronological moments. But it doesn't even have to be that. Once you're in point of view, I can start off with, Okay, this is something that happened 30 years ago, but then that reminds me of something that happened just last year, but they're related. So, I'm going to talk about that now, and so on and so forth. It gives you a better plot.
 
It also gives you much more of an emotional identification with that character. So, the use of the storyteller frame gives you tremendous advantages when doing a memoir, in terms of solving the unique problems that memoir poses for writers.
 
KARIN: You say that most stories are a combination of two to four genres, and I'm wondering what memoir can be blended with? You mentioned that the Detective genre is a good match.
 

JOHN: It's important for all genres because in terms of selling the work, in terms of it being popular, this gives readers two for the price of one. In the same length, you're giving the viewer twice to three times the plot that they would normally get. It just so happens that over the last 30 years or so, plot, in every medium has become more dense. This is the reality that we live in as storytellers.
 
When you're doing fiction story forms, there are almost infinite permutations of what you can mix and match. Again, memoir poses certain specialized problems. If you talk to most people who are not writers, and don't really know how the sausage is made, they think memoir has got to be the easiest thing to write. Because all you do is just remember what happened in your life. You just put those events in sequence and you’ve got your story. Right? Totally wrong. It is one of the most difficult forms to write.
 
Its greatest challenge is plot for various reasons. One is that you're covering a lot of time where there's not dramatic events happening. Another is that the life you led may not be as exciting as a detective story where you're trying to find out who killed someone, or an action story where somebody is fighting somebody else. Those other genres are souped-up plots. That's what genres are for, that's why they were invented, to give you maximum plot.
 
With memoir, we're talking about real events. It gives us real power emotionally, because we know those events really happened to that writer. But it gives us great challenge of plot. So, this is where mixing genres become so valuable for the memoir writer and why it is typically combined with detective story, using that storytelling frame we just talked about. When the writer triggers back to what happened, they become a detective and are looking for clues. It allows you to sequence the plot based on a sequence of clues and a sequence of reveals. Reveals are the keys to plot. The more reveals you have, the better the plot is. So, by making the writer the detective of their own life, you're getting the power of memoir, which is essentially the power of personal drama. You gain that advantage. But you're also getting the advantage of the plot of the detective form. And it turns out, the detective is the most dense and complex plot of any genre. It's a marriage made in heaven. If you are the memoir writer, it gives you a solution to so many problems that you're going to have to solve.
 
KARIN: I love that. That’s a brilliant insight.
 



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A Conversation with Caroline Leavitt

I'm thrilled to introduce you to Caroline Leavitt, a bestselling novelist whose 12th book With Or Without You is coming out through Algonquin in August. Caroline and I had a chance to talk about everything from Story Structure (which she teaches at Stanford and UCLA), to how she comes up with her story ideas, to how to stay the course as a career writer.

Caroline will be visiting the Unlocking Your Story summer workshop next week, zooming in from Hoboken, New Jersey!


CAROLINE LEAVITT is the award-winning author of twelve novels, including the New York Times bestsellers Pictures of Youand Is This Tomorrow. Her essays and stories have been included in New York magazine, Psychology Today, More, Parenting, Redbook, and Salon. She is a book critic for People, the Boston Globe, and the San Francisco Chronicle, and she teaches writing online at Stanford and UCLA.

 
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Her forthcoming novel, With Or Without You(Algonquin, August 2020), is a contemporary story of what happens to relationships as the people in them change, whether slowly or in one cataclysmic swoop.

“What if Snow White woke up and decided she didn’t much like Prince Charming? Something like that happens in Leavitt's latest novel... One character’s coma is only the first surprise in this satisfying story of middle-aged love.”STARRED Kirkus Review.

Also, Caroline's novel Pictures of You is being re-issued for its tenth anniversary edition. The story features two women running away from their marriages who collide on a foggy highway, killing one of them. The survivor, Isabelle, is left to pick up the pieces, not only of her own life, but of the lives of the devastated husband and fragile son that the other woman, April, has left behind. Together, they try to solve the mystery of where April was running to, and why.

 
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KARIN GUTMAN: What first strikes me is how prolific you are. Would you describe yourself this way?

CAROLINE LEAVITT: It's so funny to hear that because everybody says that I'm always working. I was brought up in a household where I was told I was lazy all the time. So I always think that I'm not working hard enough and I'm not doing enough and I need to do more and there's not enough time. So I guess the answer is, yes, I am prolific but, no, I don't think of myself as prolific.

KARIN: Can you tell us the story behind publishing your first novel Meeting Rozzie Halfway?

CAROLINE: Sure, absolutely. Listen, I had a really difficult childhood. I was asthmatic and bullied and I spent a lot of time in the library reading and writing stories and I always wanted to be a writer. I was always told, “No, that's really not a profession.” I had very traditional parents. “You can be a school teacher or you can be a nurse and, best of all, you can be a wife and mother.” I didn't listen and kept writing and writing and writing, and when I got out of college, I started sending out short stories and they always came back, rejection, rejection, rejection.

And then in my early 20s, I entered this contest called A Young Writers contest and the prize was that they would fly you to New York and you would get your piece published in Redbook Magazine. I figured, “Oh, I don't have a chance. I don't think I write Redbook stories,” which at the time was very traditional. So I sent in a story about two sisters growing up in Boston, one was mentally ill, and I won the first prize. I was so surprised. Not only did I win, but all of a sudden the story created all this buzz and within weeks I had an agent, and then I had an editor who wanted the story to be a novel and that's what started my publishing career.

I had never thought it was going to happen so soon, I just thought I was going to be publishing short stories for a while and paying my dues. But it didn't make my career run smoothly, which is one thing that I think is important for all writers to know, that a writing career is not up, up, up. It's always up and down and up and down. I had a big success with my first book. My second book was a lesser success, and then books three to eight just didn't sell. It got to the point where nobody knew who I was and I felt like a failure and my ninth book on submission was rejected as “books to be rejected.” They just didn't want it.

I thought that, well, after nine books if nobody who knows who you are, and you haven't built an audience, then your career is over. So, as I was trying to think of what to do, a friend of mine had an editor at Algonquin who was looking for material and she sent the book to them and they bought it. They turned it into a New York Times Bestseller its second week out and got it in six printings. So, I've learned that a writing career can go up and down all the time and you just have to persist and keep writing and remember that it's the writing that's important, not the publication.

KARIN: Was that Pictures of You?

CAROLINE: Pictures of You was the one that gave me my career.

KARIN: When you say that it “gave you your career,” what do you mean?

CAROLINE: To me it meant that I could continue writing and I would have readers, because when it became the Bestseller, I had zillions of readers and people reaching out to me and that was really gratifying that people were reading my work and responding to it. I knew that it didn't necessarily mean that the next book would do the same level or that they could not vanish just like my second novel did, but it gave me an understanding that what was important was telling the truth on the page and not worrying so much about what else was going on. Now I'm established—people know who I am—but I can still fail and to me that's okay, because I also know I can still succeed. I'm thinking about the business very differently now than I did when I started out.

KARIN: Do you think that Pictures of You is better than the other novels you’d written?

CAROLINE: That's a great question, and it's one that I really thought about. No, it's not that Pictures of You was suddenly different from every other book I had ever done, and I wouldn't necessarily say that Pictures of You was better than any of the books that I wrote before that. I think it was the publisher; I watched what Algonquin did and they do things that no other publisher has done before. I saw them physically reach out to people who were book reviewers and say, “Listen, you have to read this book,” and the person would say, “Yeah,” and they'd say, “No, no, no, listen, really, you really have to read this book.”

They really put their careers on the line for this particular book; whereas before, I never even had a publicist assigned to me for some of my books. So, I would say it was definitely the publishing company.

KARIN: Do you now feel partial to Algonquin?

CAROLINE: Oh, yeah. Algonquin is my home now. I already sold my fifth book with them, and I don't want to go any place else, because they've been fabulous to me and everybody knows everybody. I can call up the publisher, the head of the whole thing and say, “Let's have lunch,” and we'll go have lunch. All the editors know each other and they all know the authors and all the authors know each other, so it's really more of a family feeling.

I was at Grand Central and Saint Martin's, and it was a very different experience. I couldn't ask questions and I was not part of any of the marketing. There was no marketing. Also editorial wasn't as intense as it is with Algonquin where my editor and I slave over every page. There's a lot of collaboration going on and a lot of conversation going on and trust and it just feels like they truly care about the work that the writers are doing. To me, that makes so much difference.

KARIN: Looking back, would you have done anything differently during that period after your first book came out?

CAROLINE: Well, let's see, it was a period of 16 years of trying to make it and slogging around.

I didn't know anything. I was a different person than I am now. I was painfully shy. I was in a very unhappy first marriage. I would never think of asking anybody for help because I was afraid. If I was back in that period, I would reach out more to people. First of all, I had a different agent during those years, so I probably would have gotten a different agent sooner. I stayed with my first agent because I was afraid that I wouldn't get any other agent who would take me. So, I definitely would have been bolder about it.

KARIN: It’s hard to imagine you as shy, because I feel like you've such a generous, open-hearted spirit.

CAROLINE: Well, I had to learn to be that way. A lot of it was Algonquin, too, because I had all these books and nobody had ever sent me out on a tour and Algonquin did, and all of a sudden, I was in front of 200 to 900 people and I had to be personable. A friend of mine was a media coach and I said, “How do I do this? I'm so afraid,” and she worked with me and then I discovered that the more personable I got and the more relaxed I was, the better they liked me. They would laugh and afterwards people would come up and say, “I'm so glad you told that story about being bullied as a little girl because that happened to me, too, and now I feel less alone.”

I began to realize, “Oh, this is what it's about.” It's not about standing up there and saying, “This is what my book is and you should buy it.” It's more about saying, “I'm a human being, like you're a human being and this is what I've gone through, and I tried to put it into art by making this novel and I hope it's something you'll respond to.” And the more I did it, the easier it became and I turned myself into a non-shy person, which is kind of remarkable.

KARIN: That is amazing.

So Pictures of You was your first experience with Algonquin?

CAROLINE: Yes. I had heard of them, of course, but at that time, I just thought, “Well, they're a small prestigious literary publisher, they'd never want me,” and to my surprise, they did. I learned not to depend on anybody else to give me my self-worth as a writer. I always tell writers you have to find it in yourself. You have to really dig deep and find it in yourself and then other people will respond to that.

KARIN: And now you’ve got a new book coming out with them…

CAROLINE: Yeah, With or Without You, it's coming in August, and then I sold another one called Days of Wonder, which I have to write. They do this wonderful thing where you can send them the first 70 pages and if they like it, then they'll buy it. And then you have a year to write the book, so that's what I'm doing now.

KARIN: So, you sent the 70 pages and they liked it?

CAROLINE: Thank goodness, but that doesn't mean it's getting easier to write the rest, especially now during a pandemic. It's really hard.

KARIN: You're finding it harder to write?

CAROLINE: Yes, it's much, much harder to write because everything feels so surreal. Nobody's on the street. I usually would go out and see my friends; my husband and I would always go out into the city and do things. There's a kind of stasis feeling and every once in a while, I realize again what's going on in the world is so terrifying on so many counts, that I can't work, because I keep thinking, “What can I possibly write that's going to help anybody or help me?” Most of my writer friends say, “Well, the business of writing is to create empathy and that's something that people need and that they could use more of, so you should just put your head down and try to do your work,” but it's difficult. It's a difficult time now for everyone.

KARIN: Can you share what the new book is about?

CAROLINE: Yeah, I can actually. It's about this young woman in her 20s whose early release from prison for an attempted murder that she and boyfriend may or may not have done when they were 15 years old. Because her boyfriend was very wealthy and came from a prestigious family, he did not get sent to prison, but she did. So the book is about her struggling to rebuild her life, to try to find this guy, and find out what really happened that night, because she doesn't remember it. Also when she was sent to prison, she was pregnant with their child and the child was given away, so she's looking for that child also. That's all I know about it. I'm going to find out the rest as I write about it.

KARIN: How do your ideas come to be… how do you find your story? I know you often use your personal life experiences as springboards for your novels.

CAROLINE: Yes, usually it's about something that's been haunting me for a long time and I really don't know the answer to some question about it. For me a lot of it had to do with my family. I have an adored older sister and we were really close for 17 years of our life, and then her personality changed and she's become estranged from me, which is really painful. I've been writing about it and writing about it and I realized that the question for me was, “What did I do and how do I get to be forgiven?” because she's not giving me the answer. She's just telling me she doesn't want to speak to me.

I thought, “You know, I should write something about this,” and then I happened to be talking to a good friend of mine and she was telling me about this wonderful woman who has all these friends and everybody loves her. So, I met this woman and I did love her and I said, “Oh, she's such a great person.” That was when my friend told me, “You know, I didn't tell you this because I didn't want you to have any pre-judgment, but she went to prison when she was 15 for a murder she committed, and she spent her whole life trying to become a good person because of it and she succeeded.”

Those two ideas struck with me and I thought, “Oh, now I know what the novel is about. It's about this constant yearning feeling of when do I get to be forgiven, what do I have to do, mixed with that feeling of what did I do?” To me, being 15 is so interesting, because most of the time kids that age are runaway cars. Your emotions are all over the place. You're not thinking things out. I guess I'm writing it to find out how this woman is going to be forgiven—and how is she going to end up feeling that yes, she now deserves a place in the world and should she have been imprisoned at all. So that's how it all came about.

KARIN: Will you do research?

CAROLINE: I have actually. I have a friend who runs a prison program for women in Massachusetts where as part of their parole they have to read books and have discussions, and she asked if I would like to come to one of their meetings. I absolutely wanted to go. There were about 20 women there and they were not very friendly at first. They were very suspicious and they wanted to know why I was there and what I was doing and I was really honest with them. The interesting thing is they started to warm up when I told them that I had never learned how to drive a car and I told them, “I'm nervous being here with you, because I want to do you justice.”

And then they started opening up. I asked if I could interview them about their experiences in prison and one woman burst into tears and said, “I have to think about it.” Two other women said, “Yes, you can talk to me.” I had long conversations with them. What was so interesting to me was that some of them formed their first real steady friendships in prison. They felt they were protecting each other and there was a kind of community and I liked that. So there were a lot of those details that I used.

KARIN: What is your writing practice like?

CAROLINE:  Well, I have a deadline, which is really good, because it forces me to write. And also for my mental health, it's important for me to write.

For the next book I have the 70 pages I wrote a really detailed 30-page synopsis of what I thought might happen, which changes as I write. Every day I sit down at the desk around nine or ten and circle one part of the synopsis that I'm going to work on, just for the day. Maybe it's one or two scenes and that way it makes it seem more manageable to me. I don't feel so overwhelmed. I feel like, “Okay, I'm just going to do this part,” and it doesn't have to be chronological. Usually I can work for four hours and then I'm exhausted and I can't do it anymore. It's like the spark isn't there anymore.

Every day I try to do a little bit, even a paragraph and I used to be very consistent about this. Now with the pandemic, I'm not so consistent. Some days I wake up and I just feel depleted. I can't do it, and so I'll spend the day watching movies on my computer or I'll just take a walk with my husband or I'll read, or I'll teach my classes and do whatever else I need to do with the writers that I work with. It’s definitely not as consistent but I'm really trying. I'm struggling to get back to that because I need to, both because I have a deadline and because I know it feeds me. It's going to make me feel better.

KARIN: Do you adjust the synopsis as you’re writing?

CAROLINE: Yes, what happens with the synopsis is I'll write it out so I can convince myself I know how to tell a story—that I have beginning, a middle and a satisfying end—and then as I'm writing, of course, I'm making new discoveries so I have to throw things out and then I have to add things and everything changes. I re-jigger the synopsis all the time. I will go back and say, “No, now this particular thing can't happen. It doesn't make sense.” So, I'm going to have this other thing happen and it will usually change anywhere from 10 to 20 times as I'm working on the book.

KARIN: Interesting.

You teach story structure, right?


CAROLINE: I do. I teach story structure online, at both Stanford and UCLA Extension Writers’ Program. I have anywhere from 12 to 20 students in each class and it's 10 weeks and it's really intensive and most of it is online but every week we have a Zoom class so we can all see each other and talk and know each other. It's really, really fun.


KARIN: How do you go about teaching structure?

CAROLINE: I didn't learn about it myself until about eight years ago when one of my students actually said, “Do you know about John Truby's story structure?” At that time, I was the kind of person who felt, “No, I believe in creativity and the muse and I don't believe in any kind of formulas.” And she said, “This isn't a formula. Just listen to this.” She gave me these tapes and I listened and I was amazed. I was amazed because he doesn't give you a formula as much as he gives you an idea of the bones that every story should have.

Like every story should have a character who desperately wants something and out of that want comes action. So that's always a first step that I tell my students. You have to have a character who wants something and you have to know that there are stakes to it—like if he doesn't get this, what is going to happen that he won't like? And what does he have to give up to get what he wants? I also tell them that you can't always get what you want, but if you try, sometimes you get what you need.

I tell people that at the end, in terms of structure, you want the character ideally to have some kind of self-revelation where they realize, “Ah, I've spent my whole life trying to be rich and have a trophy partner and I struggled and I got those things, and then I realized, I'm not happy and now I realize that what I really need to do is quit that stupid job and go to the woods and be a gardener,” and then they do. It's that kind of change and realization that makes for a satisfying story.

So I give them beats of things that they should have, and every week we split it up and we'll talk about it. Like what's the moral choice? How could we make it deeper? What does a character want? Does it have big enough stakes and if not, how can we make it bigger? There's all kinds of toolbox stuff and I tell the writers, “Look, this is just a toolbox, and you can pick and choose the tools you want and you may find that you are the kind of writer who can't use any of these tools. That you just like riding on the seat of your pants and if that's you, that's fabulous, that's fine.”

KARIN: Everything you’re saying really resonates with me.

CAROLINE: Oh, I'm so glad.

KARIN: So, you give John Truby a lot of credit…

CAROLINE: Yeah, he changed my writing life. I don't agree with everything that he says, but I think he's on the money about the seven beats that you need.

KARIN: Did his approach to structure really change how you write?

CAROLINE: Yup. I used to write novels that would come out to be 800 pages, and I'd turn them into my agent and she'd say, “I can't send this out." She'd read it and say, "Let's try to figure out what the real story is and pare it down.” We'd do it that way.

There was much more hysteria in the process for me, because I never really knew what I was doing and I would go off on all these tangents and nothing would happen and characters wouldn't change. As soon as I learned story structure, it became so much easier because then I figured, “Oh, of course, this character has to do this and this should happen and we can go deeper here.” I just feel more in control. I tell my students, “It's like if you can think of a human being, every person on the planet looks different, feels different, acts differently, but we all have basically the same skeleton and that holds us up.”

Story structure is like your skeleton. Get the skeleton down and then you can add whatever kind of flesh and clothing and personality that you want, but it's the skeleton that's so important.

KARIN: Yes, I love how you talk about it.

You used the term “moral choice.” I've never heard of that. What does it mean?

CAROLINE: Oh, this is great, you'll love this. A moral choice is not about morality as much as what kind of person you are. It's putting your character between two terrible choices and what the character does tells you what kind of person he is—like say there's a guy, and his wife is dying of this terrible rare disease. There is a cure, and it's owned by one pharmacist. So the guy goes to the pharmacist and says, “I really need to buy this medicine,” and the pharmacist says, “Well, the medicine is going to cost $10,000,” and the guy says, “I don't have the money, please give it to me. It's the only thing that'll save her.” And the pharmacist says, “No, I'm sorry, it's $10,000.”

So the moral choice is… the guy can either say, “Well, I have to find another way, because I'm not going to get this drug from this pharmacist. He won't let me and the stakes are really high, and my wife might die.” Or he can say to the pharmacist, “You are inhumane,” and kill the pharmacist and steal the drug and save his wife. But in saving his wife, then he's going to jail, because he killed the pharmacist. So, when you have those two highly dramatic things, you put people reading in a position saying, “Oh, my God, what would I do?”

I always tell them about Jaws. You have the Sheriff. Is he going to close the beach and protect all the people and the town will ruin and he'll lose his job? Or is he going to keep the beach open and he'll keep his job and hope for the best? But meanwhile people could be eaten by the shark. The more of those kinds of choices you can give your character, the better.

KARIN: Meanwhile, tell us about your new book!

CAROLINE: With or Without You.

KARIN: I was fascinated by your recent essay in the Daily Beast that describes how you wrote TWO novels related to your real-life experience of being in a coma.

CAROLINE: Right, I got critically ill after the birth of my son with a mystery illness, so I was put into a medical coma for two weeks and I was sick for a year. The problem was that they gave me memory blockers so I wouldn't remember the pain and procedures, so my mind didn't remember any of this but my body did and I had all these post-traumatic triggers. So I was talking to a friend of mine who was a psychiatrist and he said, “You know, when you hypnotize a person and you tell them that they're burning, their skin can flame up. They can get blisters. The brain doesn't know the difference.” And he said, “You do that in your writings… why don't you just write about it and you'll heal yourself that way.”

So I wrote this book right after my coma that was called Coming Back to Me, which was about a woman like me who had been in a coma after she had a baby and she didn't remember anything. I thought it was going to make me lose these triggers and it didn't. I still kept having them. I was afraid to go to sleep and certain smells and certain colors would really upset me and none of the people who had been around me when I was in a coma wanted to talk about it, because it had been so traumatizing for them, too. So, I began to think, “Well, what if I wrote a book about a woman whose experience was different from mine? What if I wrote about a woman who remembered everything? Maybe then I could heal.”

So I created the character of Stella, who is aware of everything in her coma and outside of her coma. In fact, I made her better when she got out of her coma because she has a different personality, which does happen. She also has this extraordinarily miraculous new talent where she can paint really well and she can paint the inner lives of her subject. I did a lot of research and actually that's something that does happen in coma. People do awake with these astonishing new abilities.

KARIN: Wow.

CAROLINE: Suddenly they can speak a foreign language or suddenly they can be a virtuoso on the violin. I found that so fascinating and I wanted to write about that. So, the book is a lot about how we can re-make ourselves and what this does to the people who love us when we change, and what it does to our feelings towards the people we love.

KARIN: Have you noticed any shifts as a result of writing this second novel?

CAROLINE: Yeah, I have. I'm not bothered by colors or sounds or smells anymore. I still get unnerved when it's time to go to sleep, but I definitely feel free of the whole issue of coma. I think I will never have to write about it again, which is a nice thing to realize.

KARIN: Are there any promotional book events coming up that we can attend?

CAROLINE: Well, you can go to my website, www.carolineleavitt.com. There's a list of 30 different virtual events—some of them are with wonderful other authors that I'll be in conversation with. I know money is tight in the pandemic, but just calling your local library and asking them to order the book is a very big deal.

KARIN: Thank you, I will do that!

 
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Caroline Leavitt is hosting the weekly Reedsy Prompts contest on July 24th! Each Friday, Reedsy posts five new writing prompts, and then challenges writers to submit a short story inspired by one of those prompts. A weekly winner receives $50 and is featured on the Reedsy site.

Caroline will be doing a “Reversals” theme. Here's a sneak preview of one of her writing prompts: “Every year one person is chosen to go to the moon, and this year, though you hid in terror, it is your turn to enter the rocket.”




To learn more about Caroline Leavitt, visit her website.

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