Making A Small Book Big
By Deborah Smith

 

Scarlett O’ Hara was perfect for her time.

No, not the Civil War era. For 1930’s America—the Depression, the nouveau riche landscape of bootleggers and business barons lording it over an impoverished citizenry, a time when books and movies regularly celebrated strong women who ran their own businesses and stood toe-to-toe with men, giving a guy plenty of What-For.

Scarlett battled her way through war and poverty, doing whatever it took to build a secure future for herself and her family. And yet, like most Depression-era Americans,  she longed for Tara –  the good old days of some mythical Real America, where everything was much simpler and “righter,” where Ashley Wilkes embodied the perfect man and Rhett Butler was a hot-rod roadster kept in the garage for a wild drive every Saturday night.

GONE WITH THE WIND is one of many examples of blockbuster novels that are analyzed by creative writing teacher and novelist James W. Hall in his intriguing book: HIT LIT: CRACKING THE CODE OF THE TWENTIETH CENTURY’S BIGGEST BESTSELLERS.  I got my copy today (Kindle version for ye old PC, my new fave reading method) after seeing a fascinating Salon article about the book online. (Links are below.)

There’s too much meat on the HIT LIT’s bones for me to boil it all down effectively in this shorty post, but what intrigues me the most is this: Hall’s conclusion that most of our biggest bestsellers are about social struggles: to put it simply, David vs. Goliath. Class, race, gender, poor vs. rich. The downtrodden battling the Man. Hall uses TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD as the classic example of a “small” story (set in a deceptively simple place and time; built around a small-town drama) that resonated with huge social issues.

Hall also talks about “unique and creative mash-ups of traditional genres” as a key attribute of blockbuster novels.  There’s the obvious cases of genre-hybrids, such as TWILIGHT’s perfect blending of vampires with the romance genre, but also the merging of current social and political themes with a traditional  genre plot. Thus: GONE WITH THE WIND is a historical dress-up set in 1930’s America;  THE GODFATHER is a rags-to-riches family saga of Greek-tragedy proportions, that just happens to be about the Mob; JAWS (the movie but also the book that inspired it) is a Man vs. God/Nature story disguised as a simple thriller about a big, hungry fish.

When I read Hall’s theories, I had a lightbulb moment. The lightbulb was solar-powered,  eco-friendly, regulated out the wazoo by a bewildering clump of laws, and imported from a foreign country where workers are paid less for a week’s wages than the average American spends on a latte at Starbucks.

THE HUNGER GAMES.

Here’s what we’ve got in that great book (the latest inductee to the Blockbuster Hall of Fame): Romance Genre. Also: Thriller Genre.  Poor vs. rich. Little people vs. the Man.

Okay, that’s the obvious bones of the beast, but there’s lots more: many 21st century Americans believe something similar to the totalitarian world of the book is headed our way: they fear we’ll become a nation of absolute, centralized, Big Government control, in which the average citizen has lost ALL rights. No local governments, no local representatives; only The Capitol and its potentates will have power.

THE HUNGER GAMES couldn’t be better timed for this point in our history—our politics, entertainment and public discussions are saturated with the fear that our rights are fading and that our government is out of control. (Warning, Will Robinson, warning! I am not subscribing to a particular political ideology, I promise you; I’m talking about general trends.)

Blockbuster mash-ups go beyond the use of current events as an audience hook. Blockbusters operate on a higher/broader level, serving up the goods on universal struggles, speaking to readers across lines of age, gender, race and culture.  War, plague, poverty, greed, fear of the unknown, the lust for power, the search for faith – think big!

Okay, but how can you fit fifty pounds of timeless human angst into the quarter-pound plot of the average genre novel? Here are a few ways:

Think of your characters as archetypes. Small story – Jake Smith is hunting the men who kidnapped his wife. Big story – Jake Smith is a forgotten veteran of the Gulf War who is hunting the oil conglomerate that kidnapped his wife because she’s the daughter of a Saudi prince. Archetype story – A wounded warrior battles the evil king to save the princess.

  1. Emotions are weightless, so stuff even the great big fat ones into your little bitty plot! The deepest love, the most terrifying fear, the rawest courage, the greediest desire for power. Yum! Small story: Susan Williams wants to keep her parents’ bakery out of bankruptcy. Big story – Susan Williams is all that stands between her parent’s blue collar neighborhood and a takeover by Mega-Corrupt International Bank. Archetype story – the peasant will give her life if need be as she leads a revolt against the empire.
  2. Dress a classic story in new threads. This is not cheating, this is using the basic elements of all great stories shared by all storytellers everywhere, from Beowulf to Star Wars. The ruler whose ruthless ways not only destroy his/her enemies, but everyone he/she loves. The star-crossed lovers torn apart by differences in race, class, religion and “other.” The courageous street kid who rises to power and wealth via bravery, self-sacrifice and unshakable honor (or via masterful lying, cheating and stealing.) The noble virgin who defeats the corrupt whore by virtue of sheer virtue-ness (“virgin” meaning a woman or man of elevated and selfless ideals, and “whore” referring to the opposite).
  3. Read Debra Dixon’s GOALS, MOTIVATIONS and CONFLICTS. (Available at fine online bookstores everywhere!) Yes, she’s my co-partner in Bell Bridge Books and my bestest sister-of-the-heart friend in the whole world, and yes, I am expected to plug her how-to book at every opportunity, but truly, she teaches writers about archetypes and classic storytelling in a very clear, easy-to-understand, and highly implementable way.

But yes, it must be admitted: Regardless of our efforts to analyze and create spellbinding, rock-the-planet stories, there will always be the universe’s whimsy: Luck, timing, fate, destiny and who-knows-what-all will always play a part in writing a book that catches readers’ attention, whether by “readers” we mean twenty ladies in your mom’s book club or 200 million peeps lining up for the next Potter/Hobbit/Twilight/Hunger Games installment.

But try writing Big, anyway. After all, what could be more classic than a lowly little writer bravely flinging a wordy rock at the head of the bug-eyed Goliath-Monster named Success?