Steve Weddlle
Award winning crime fiction author Les Edgerton, on how to dump the "Rubber Ducky"….
( Much thanks to Virginai Mcgreggor for original blog post)
" A good example of a Ducky that never comes up is Thelma and Louise. It becomes clear over the course of the movie that something terrible happened to Louise (Susan Sarandon) in Texas; that's why the two women take the long way around to the Mexican border. You begin to realize that she must have been raped in Texas, and then disbelieved in court. That she probably shot her attacker…But Louise never says anything explicit about it in the movie, and that makes her backstory all the stronger. It's only delivered via hints.And, the first hint doesn't even appear until more than a third of the way into the movie." (Edgerton)
WRITING MASTERCLASS BY LES EDGERTON: (THE DANGER OF BACKSTORY (OR THE RUBBER DUCKY)
Les Edgerton is a wonderful novelist and writing teacher. His life and his writing are an inspiration. Here is one of his blog posts on the danger of including backstory – or, as he calls it the 'Rubber Ducky.' It's a typically no-nonsense and hugely helpful kick up the backside as regards focusing on writing what matters to readers.
(From Sydney Lumet's and Paddy Chayevsky's writings on the subject.)
I am going to rant about the 'Rubber Ducky' theory of backstory for a bit. I'm using material from Sydney Lumet and Paddy Chayevsky, which were intended for screenwriters, but apply just as much for novelists.
The 'Rubber Ducky' is Paddy Chayevsky's term for when the hero or villain, at a lull in the action, explains that he is the way he is because his mother took away his rubber ducky when he was three.
It's always a nice scene, well acted, beautifully lit, with a powerfully written monolog that the writer spent days on. And totally unnecessary in most stories and overused… It usually comes from not trusting the reader's or viewer's intelligence to "get it"…
It's also the source for many of those godawful "prologues" in newer writer's manuscripts. It's often their protagonist's Rubber Ducky and as such is a total waste of paper and/or electrons.
The character's past may be crucial to your story. Batman is haunted by the murder of his parents by a mugger when he was small. That's why he likes to dress up in latex and beat the tar out of muggers. In The Terminator, the hero's past, which is in the future, is the hellish future of the entire human race. It sets up the stakes for the whole movie. In movies like these, we do need to know about the hero's past. You will need to keep coming back to that past, to give it the weight it deserves. Both Batman and The Terminator, in fact, start with the hero's backstory before getting into the main story.
But if all you're trying to do is give your hero more emotional depth, for the sake of emotional depth, without integrating his backstory into your story, you are running the risk of awakening the dread Ducky.
The strongest way to create a sense of character is to give the character things to do and say on screen that give us a sense of a person. If the character's personality doesn't leap off the page, readers will feel that the character is flat. And personality is created by how he or she reacts to the obstacles encountered in the struggle. How he or she is proactive in resolving the story problem and isn't simply reactive or passive. Development executives will ask to know more about the protagonist's past. You will surrender to the urge to put in a Rubber Ducky. Then if the picture becomes a go, the actors will get attached to the Rubber Ducky scene, because it shows they can Act. So the Ducky stays in the picture. (To its detriment.)
In novels, the same thing happens when the characters are seen as flat. Many times, in my classes and in private coaching of novelists, I've advised the writer that their protagonist just wasn't interesting. Almost always, the first reaction is to give him/her a Rubber Ducky, thinking that giving him some traumatic experience in his or her past will render him a more interesting character. Except… it doesn't. Way back then, when the Ducky took place, sure, that may have been interesting. That was then, this is now. The Ducky is ancient history. The reader knows the character survived so it loses most of its emotional punch.
Almost always the core reason the character is flat is because the author is delivering him one of two ways.
One, he gives us a character who is predominantly in his mind. We're mostly witnessing the protagonist's thoughts. He's just not doing anything but… musing. Musing doesn't affect the emotion of a reader. Only one thing affects the readers' emotions—the character acting on his/her behalf to resolve a problem. With… action.
The second way the protagonist is rendered uninteresting is that he engages in a lot of dialog. He "solves" story problems by… talking. It's the same thing, basically, as a character ruminating about in his head. The only difference is the writer is delivering the same thing by having the character say those thoughts out loud. To another character. While dialog is part of action, that brand of dialog isn't. This is a common fault of beginning screenwriters as well as novelists. Newer screenwriters, in particular, have bought into a myth that movies are mostly dialog. Plays are, but screenplays really aren't. A successful movie works the same way as a successful novel. The audience wants to see the characters doing something. Sometimes, that "something" is dialog, but far less than many think. A movie that depends on heavy doses of dialog has a name. It's called a "talking heads" movie. A novel that depends on heavy doses of dialog has a name as well. It's called "unpublished." Or, "self-published."
A too-obvious Ducky cheapens the character.
Kurt Russell's character Jack O'Neil in Stargate is suicidal because his young son killed himself accidentally with a pistol he left around the house. To make us care more about his otherwise unpleasant character, O'Neil delivers a small monologue to James Spader's character Daniel Jackson. It is important to the picture that O'Neil is suicidal, but not why; and given O'Neil's contempt for Daniel Jackson, it's unlikely that he would open up to him about his guilt and shame. The emotional truth of the situation is that Daniel Jackson would never know why O'Neil is so willing to die. It might have been more emotionally truthful for the movie never to relay this information. But I wouldn't be surprised if Kurt Russell wanted the audience to know that his character had a good reason for being such a bastard. Actors want you to have sympathy for them.
A good example of a Ducky that never comes up is Thelma and Louise. It becomes clear over the course of the movie that something terrible happened to Louise (Susan Sarandon) in Texas; that's why the two women take the long way around to the Mexican border. You begin to realize that she must have been raped in Texas, and then disbelieved in court. That she probably shot her attacker which was why she ended up in jail. But Louise never says anything explicit about it in the movie, and that makes her backstory all the stronger. It's only delivered via hints. And, the first hint doesn't even appear until more than a third of the way into the movie.
If development execs are asking you for the Ducky, the screenplay isn't working for them. Don't give them the Ducky, but do focus your scenes so they show the character.
Go through your script again, scene by scene, and make sure that every time the hero acts, it shows us who he is.
Make sure you communicate how he feels about what he's doing, and give him a fresh way of doing it, one someone else wouldn't have… If an agent or an editor gives you the same note, use the same strategy for making the protagonist interesting—one the reader will want to follow. Not to see his brilliant and riveting thoughts… but to see how he struggles against huge odds to gain his objective. And in original ways. Then, you'll have an interesting character.
Sidney Lumet said:
In the early days of television, when the kitchen sink school of realism held sway, we always reached a point where we explained the character. Around two-thirds of the way through, someone articulated the psychological truth that made the character the person he was. [Paddy] Chayefsky and I used to call this The Rubber Ducky School of Drama: 'Someone once took his rubber ducky away from him, and that's why he's a deranged killer.' That was the fashion then, and with many producers and studios it still is.
I always try to eliminate the rubber-ducky explanations. A character should be clear from his present actions. And his behavior as the picture goes on should reveal the psychological motivations. If the writer has to state the reasons, something's wrong in the way the character has been written.
The same principles apply to memoir. A memoir that is based mostly on the author's own Rubber Ducky, is one that is probably going to end up largely a victim story. Unfortunately, those are pretty much over. That becomes a 'me' story and we're not much interested in those these days.
Create your characters in the 'present' of your story. Give him or her a compelling problem and put obstacles in their path and give them really cool and interesting (and unexpected) ways to overcome those obstacles.
Keep out of their heads as much as possible. Not entirely—just less than you might be tempted to. Not as much going on in there as you might think…
Blue skies,
Tagged Anonymous-9, Backstory, Les Edgerton, publishing, Rubber Ducky, Steve Weddlle, Victoria Macgreggor, writers, Writing Muse
Steve Weddle Chimes in on Do Some Damage:
Take a look as Steve Weddle shares some super thoughtful insights:
Thanks for this, Mr. Weddle!
But you know what you can do? Tweet me your word count. Facebook your opening paragraph. Because I bet it's wonderful. Or maybe it sucks. But you know what? You did a thing. While the soy latte, coffee-shop writers were home in bed or matching their trucker caps to their flannel shirts and thick, unnecessary eyeglasses, you were hand-cramping your way through that scene that had been eating at the back of your brain for a week. And you got the damn thing down on paper. Con-friggin-grats.
Post that word count. Share that sentence. Then get your ass back in the chair tomorrow and do it again. Because I'm sitting here with an empty space in my TBR pile and I've been waiting for something wondrous.
Those who find they're touched by madness
Sit down next to me.
Those who find themselves ridiculous
Do Some Damage: On word counts, James, and Playboy magazine
Do Some Damage is a group of crime writers, each with a different voice and something to say. From grizzled vets to grizzly rooks, they pull back the curtain on the way the industry works. Whether beating deadlines or beating characters, each week they share their thoughts on reading, writing, plot,…
DOSOMEDAMAGE.COM
Tagged Do Some Damage, Steve Weddlle, writers, writing
Author Steve Weddle knows what he's talking about….
Read on, as Steve Weddlle gives us all great words of wisdom here, on what not to do as an author trying to market oneself. Not sure, but think the moral of the story is…stick to the writing. Make it good, and the rest just might take care of itself, for the most part.
Re-blogged, straight from his site, Do Some Damage, at:
http://www.dosomedamage.com/2015/05/are-you-authorpanuring-yourself-enough.html
Thursday, May 14, 2015: Are You Authorpanuring Yourself Enough
By Steve Weddle
So folks are the internet out there are working to help authors --
I mean, I like the idea of helping. I really do. I don't know what an "AUTHORPRENEUR" is, but it sounds cool. Maybe it's an author who does nails and hair styling during writer's block.
AUTHORPRENEUR. Rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it?
According to the article about being an AUTHORPRENEUR, you need an email list for a few reasons. Honestly, I don't know how I've gotten by without an email list myself. I get up each morning before sunrise, brew some coffee, open the moleskine, and write. (Proof is here,)
A pen, a notebook, and a novelty mug of coffee. I have one from the Big Lebowski. I have one of banned books. I have one from a real car dealership that exists in the county I'm writing pretend stories about. I have so many mugs. I've gone to so much trouble with the thinking and the writing and the buying 100-year-old high school yearbooks and rare government pamphlets and all sorts of stuff. You'd think I'd have enough sense to have exported my friends and family into a database I can use.
The experts, and the AUTHORPRENEUR in particular, say I need to have an email list so that I can reach my "target audience."
Not only will I have readers who are "anxious" for my next book, but I have a "pool" of people waiting to beta-read my next book. So, with this list, I have a group of people I can send my book to so that they'll read it and tell me what they think of it? Don't I already know these people? Don't I email with them anyway? I need people who are kind of interested in what I do, but not so interested that I chat with them regularly? Isn't that called "family"? I don't know.
Do people use beta-readers? Do they hyphenate themselves? I guess the idea is that you would spam, er, launch an email campaign asking your prospective consumers if they'd be interested in serving as your focus group? Then what happens? A couple dozen people email you back — or complete a Survey Monkey form — telling you the strengths and flaws of your book? That does not sound like something I would enjoy.
Keep in mind that the internet has, at my latest Googling, just over 1,837,119 posts about how to market yourself as an author. Which is good news if you enjoy reading posts about how to market yourself as an author. Oh, my bad. I meant to say, "as an Author." Or AUTHORPRENEUR.
According to one of the posts — which I am certain is sincere and meant to be helpful somehow — the key to being a successful AUTHORPRENEUR is "building relationships." That makes sense to me. In my favorite short story, "Hills Like White Elephants," the relationship between the man and the woman is key. What does he want? What does she want? Where's the conflict between them? Excellent.
Oh, wait. There was more to the post.
Building a relationship with your readers, where they can respond to you and communicate with you as an author, is advertising you can't buy.
Oh, sweet lord. I can't unread that sentence. A relationship with readers is great advertising? What in the name of Frank friggin Norris does that even mean?
Let me tell you who these people are. Ugh. I've been trying to be generous here. But that sentence. I just can't go on like this. Look, these are the people who talk to you at parties until they realize that someone on the other side of the room can better help their career. Then they flitter off to that person. These are the people who post sticky notes on their MacBookPros telling them the proper ratios of marketing tweets to personal tweets. (They say 1:10. I say they're dopes.)
A relationship with your readers isn't advertising. Are these the people who say the penultimate chapter in this book satisfies the reader for THIS book, but the last chapter makes them hungry for the next one? I can't keep up with the helpful formulas on being a writer.
Yes, building involves marketing. I have business cards with my book cover on it, so that when people ask about my book, I can hand them a card. I think taking the card helps them feel as if they've done something, some transaction with me, so that they don't have to ever buy the book or read it. I don't know. I should probably do a better job networking through my LinkedIn page if I want to be a real AUTHORPRENEUR. After all, I want to build that relationship with readers, don't I?
Are your readers your customers? I don't know. I'm not writing for my customers. I'm writing to make this paragraph sing. I'm writing to tie these threads together. I'm writing because I'm kinda interested to see what the heck happens with these people in this cabin.
According to the people who read "the experts" in the field, "the experts" estimate that "readers need to be exposed to your product up to seven times" before they consider completing a "transaction."
If you're attempting to complete a transaction by exposing your audience to your product over and over, then you're at the wrong damn blog, pal.
I've subscribed to many author newsletters, I don't always read them. I read some of them, but I don't always have time. I'm interested in seeing where my favorite authors are signing or hearing about upcoming projects. I like "keeping up with" the authors I enjoy reading, as well as the authors I personally know and like. That's cool. But I've never, ever bought a book because an author emailed me a newsletter.
Think about the last book you bought, the last novel you enjoyed. Did you complete the transaction because of marketing tweets and email newsletters?
I'm no stranger to spreading myself around the internet from MySpace to Reverb Nation. And maybe I could do a better job marketing my writing via newsletters and cleverly using the hashbrown symbol on Twitter. If you're on the internet off and on all day and you're reading posts at Medium about seven things you need to do to be a better Author, and all seven are how to sell your book, well, I don't know, I think you could get lost in that.
My guess is that people like to feel as if they're in control. What have you done today as an Author? I sent out an email thing to people. I updated my website. I had an author photo taken. I gave a reading. I joined a Twitter promotion hashbrown thing to expand my reach. Yeah, that feels like doing stuff. I've done that stuff. Those are things you can write down in your calendar. That's great. Those things are comforting because they feel like accomplishments. They feel active.
Writing is hard. You get 20,000 words into a novel and realize only the last 1,000 are useful. You get done with your 100,000-word story and it dawns on you that you should combine two of the characters. That's you and your story. That's tough. You can write all day for three weeks and then, on Day 22, notice a gaping plot hole you'll never fix. There's no real checklist for writing a good book. Each book is a damn snowflake, ain't it? You can write three novels that are huge successes and sit down to write the fourth and feel as if you've forgotten how to be a writer.
But you know what? If I've read and enjoyed your book, then you're a writer. I have a relationship with your book. I've put it on my shelf. I've gotten you to sign it. I've bought copies of your book for friends. You worked your tail off on the book, and it shows. Your book is great and, honestly, you're pretty awesome. Because you know how to write a damn book, you know? Heck, I might kick back with your book this weekend and read parts of it again. Especially that chapter where he's having the dream about the bird with the broken wing. Damn, that's beautiful.
If you're an AUTHORPRENEUR, then I saw the E-blast (the subject line, at least) that you sent out about the Twitter campaign you're holding next Tuesday. Good luck with it. Hope you're able to move some product.
Tagged Steve Weddlle