Anatomy of a Best-Selling Story 3—Opposition

Hmmm…

I think this is why I was stalled. I don’t have a clue about my BBT (see Kristen’s post for an explanation).

Well, back to the writing board. Hopefully I will have some more excerpts for you soon!

Kristen Lamb's Blog

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Ah, structure. We are discussing the fundamentals of story. No skeleton and our story is a puddle of primordial adverb ooze. In Part One, we talked about the micro scale of fiction the scene and the sequel, cause and effect. In Part Two, we panned out for the BIG picture, Aristotelian Three-Act Structure.

Today? We talk about the essential ingredient for ALL fiction. Just like carbon is the ONE key ingredient for all LIFE, conflict is the key ingredient for ALL stories. No conflict? No story.

If you want to self-publish or indie publish, I would assume most of you want to be successfully published, regardless the format or distributor. To be considered “successfully published” we have to sell a lot of books. To sell a lot of books, we must connect with readers. That is what this series is about. Structure is how readers connect to stories. The…

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Catching up…

I totally forgot that I had this WordPress blog.

Seriously. Gotta love the creative brain.

So, it looks all I’ve been doing on here is reposting other people’s articles. I’m gonna have to change that.

Get ready, folks, because the writing is coming!  I have a couple of chapters that need to be read and a story that wants to come out so bad that it’s making my fingers itch.

Let me introduce you to Ariana and Finder, who are quickly becoming two of my favorite people. Ariana is… complicated. She’s had a craptacular life and it shows in her attitude. She can be sweet and funny, but only to those she cares about. Everyone else is an obligation that she’s chafing against. Finder is her brother-by-choice; the two of them are inseparable. Finder is a happy-go-lucky kind of guy whose main ambitions are to eat regularly and enjoy life, especially when that life is in the form of a pretty woman.

Here is part of their story:

And it begins…

Ariana stood bowed over the sink, trembling, eyes closed tightly. She wasn’t going to make it. All of her hard work, and she couldn’t last an hour.

Giving in to the inevitable as her chest squeezed tighter and tighter, her lungs worked furiously to draw in a clean breath, and her muscles began locking one by one, she jerked herself out into the bedroom, collapsing in a heap on the floor.

And remembered.

Her tiny body hovered in the air, floating over the well-manicured lawn. Her silky, raven hair whipped around her, snaking around her small face in spite of the still air. She was wearing her new favorite pink dress, the one with the sparkles, that her sisters had helped her pick out for her birthday party. A large conducite amulet lay on the ground, glowing brightly, the platinum chain glistening.

She paid no attention to the screams coming from the compound, each one layered so thickly over the next that they were almost visible. She ignored the smell of explosives and the loud, intermittent concussions that caused bricks to tumble and the ground to shake.She couldn’t take her eyes off of her hands. In the dim twilight, they looked black. Sporadic flashes from the bombs exploding behind her revealed the ugly truth.

They were covered with blood.

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