Scary Good Tool 8: CPR and Conflict
I'll start this lesson with a question, Bonefish. What is a story?
That's easy. A story has a beginning and middle and an end.
So does an earthworm, that doesn't make an earthworm a story.
A story is made up.
So is a recipe for chicken pot pie, that doesn't make it a story.
A story has things happen inside it.
So does a washing machine - - clothes get cleaned. But a washing machine is not a story.
I give up, Mr. Butt. What is a story?
It's simple. A story is a way of telling about a character with a problem that must be resolved. CPR for short. Have you ever heard of using CPR to come up with a story idea, Bonefish?
CPR? Sounds like a good way to breathe life into a story idea.
Well, listen up and you’ll find out how it works.
That's easy. A story has a beginning and middle and an end.
So does an earthworm, that doesn't make an earthworm a story.
A story is made up.
So is a recipe for chicken pot pie, that doesn't make it a story.
A story has things happen inside it.
So does a washing machine - - clothes get cleaned. But a washing machine is not a story.
I give up, Mr. Butt. What is a story?
It's simple. A story is a way of telling about a character with a problem that must be resolved. CPR for short. Have you ever heard of using CPR to come up with a story idea, Bonefish?
CPR? Sounds like a good way to breathe life into a story idea.
Well, listen up and you’ll find out how it works.
Nothing Ever Happens To Me.
Nothing exciting ever happened to Melvin Milpot until the day he almost died. On that day, Melvin finished reading the final book in the “Werewolf Hunter” series, clapped the volume shut and slid it onto the shelf of his bookcase. He grabbed his authentic reproduction of the wolf’s head sword cane owned by the hero of the series Lex Lobo and headed out the door. It was a cold drab day. Gray clouds hung in the sky like slaughtered sheep. Melvin took out his handkerchief and wiped his thick glasses. He put them back on his nose and noticed a shop he had never seen before. The shop didn't have a name, only the picture of a book painted above the entrance. A sign on the front door read, "Scary adventures inside.”
“Hmm, a new bookstore,” Melvin said. “Might as well check it out."
He opened the door. A small bell tinkled above his head. He stepped inside. The room smelled musty as if the dust hadn't stirred for years. Cobwebs hung from the corners of the room. It was then he noticed something that made him rub his chin. There wasn't a book on any of the shelves lining the walls. Not the thinnest volume.
He was about to turn around and leave when he heard shuffling footsteps coming from the back room. A pleasantly plump woman strolled into the room. She wore an old-fashioned blue dress with ruffles at the collar. Curly orange hair swirled from her scalp. Her blue eyes twinkled with friendliness.
“Looking for a scary adventure, dear?”
“What is this place? I thought it was a bookstore, but you don't have any books."
“Ah, we don't sell books here. We sell scary adventures. Wouldn’t you like a scary adventure?"
"This is silly. How can I have a scary adventure in the middle of a dusty old room?"
The plump woman smiled slyly. "Where would you like to have a scary adventure, dear?"
“I don't know, Egypt or Africa, somewhere exotic.”
She took out a sparkling gold pen and opened a book. She wrote something down and the room shuddered. The ceiling crumbled and fluttered into the sky like a million bats. The walls fell away. The wooden floor cracked and splintered as hot sand pushed through the gaps in the floorboards. In moments he was standing in the vastness of the Sahara desert.
“What on earth?" He took off his thick glasses and wiped them with a handkerchief. He put them on and looked again. The desert was still there.
“Is this a suitable location for a scary adventure?"
“I guess so, but…"
“Now the next thing you’ll need is a problem. You can't have a scary adventure without a problem.”
He raised his hand. “Are you telling me that I'm the main character in a scary story?"
“But of course, the hero in fact. But what kind of a problem do you want that relates to the Sahara desert?”
“Just a minute, just a minute, what's going on here?”
“You came in for an exciting adventure, dear. I'm going to give you one, but first you need a problem. You can't have a scary adventure without a problem. Now let's see; your problem shall be that you are being stalked by a sand witch.”
“A sandwich? Whoever heard of being stalked by a sandwich?"
“Oh, yes, that doesn’t quite sound right. Very well, you are being stalked by a sand shark.”
A hundred yards away, a monstrous fin standing ten feet high and the color of sand sliced through a dune and then vanished.
“Hold on, I'm not sure I want to go through with this...”
“Now, you'll need some obstacles to make your story more exciting. Let's see, I know, you hurt your leg when your Jeep crashed.”
Suddenly a crumpled jeep appeared. A sharp pain shot through his left thigh. He stumbled when he took a step. “Now, just a minute, I didn't agree to this.”
The woman ignored him. “And of course you can't have an obvious weapon to fight the shark.”
His sword cane vanished. “I paid two hundred dollars for that…”
“Shall we give you one more obstacle to overcome? Oh, yes, you must rescue the woman you love.”
The most beautiful woman he had ever seen appeared on a sand dune 50 feet away. She had fiery red hair and cool blue eyes. She wore a slinky blue dress and a diamond necklace around her neck.
The gargantuan shark fin appeared and circled her.
“Help me, Melvin!” she screamed. Her voice sounded remarkably similar to that of the plump woman.
Melvin didn't know what to do. How could he save this beautiful woman from the giant creature that stalked her?
She jumped up and down, shouting help.
"Stand still!" Melvin shouted. He knew that a shark in the ocean was attracted to movement so why wouldn't it be the same for a shark in the desert?
“Melvin, he’s coming to get me! Save me!” She cried still jumping frantically.
"You've got to stop moving right now," Melvin said. “He senses you."
She stopped jumping.
The shark fin slid past her.
One of her tears hit the sand. The shark sensed it. The fin turned.
“I'm going to die!" The beautiful woman cried. More tears dropped onto the sand. The shark sensed them and headed toward her.
On reflex, Melvin took out his handkerchief to wipe her tears, but how was he going to get it to her? The shark would sense his movements and come for him. What was he going to do?
“A resolution," she shouted. “You need a resolution to the problem of the giant sand shark."
Melvin looked at the Jeep and saw gas dripping from the ruptured tank. It gave him an idea. He dipped the handkerchief in the fuel. He took off his thick glasses and positioned them above the damp cloth. The blazing sunlight tightened into a sizzling white beam. The handkerchief began to smoke.
The sand shark’s fin slid toward the crying woman.
Holding the smoldering handkerchief, Melvin started to dance on the surface of the sand next to the Jeep. “Here, shark! Come on, boy. Come and get a mouthful of Melvin Milpot!”
The shark sensed his movements and took the bait. The gigantic fin turned and headed in his direction. The beautiful woman was safe, but only if his plan worked.
As the gargantuan creature sped toward him, Melvin's wounded leg gave out from all the dancing. He fell onto the hot sand.
The shark kept coming.
He struggled to his feet and started boogieing again. The pain in his leg made his eyes water. He gritted his teeth and kept dancing.
The shark was less than 10 feet away. It rose from the sand to reveal its massive head. Its cold black eye was as big as a basketball. It opened its jaws and revealed rows and rows of jagged yellow teeth.
Melvin swallowed hard. He wanted to run away, but he had to wait until just the right moment. He held the flaming handkerchief just above the ruptured gasoline tank and chewed his lip. Just as the monstrous shark opened its gaping jaws wider, Melvin dropped the handkerchief, jumped from the Jeep, and took off running. The shark’s massive jaws closed around the crumpled vehicle. It turned to chase Melvin.
Melvin struggled to climb a high sand dune. His leg gave out again. He stumbled and rolled down the dune toward the shark. The monstrous creature opened its mouth. Melvin closed his eyes and waited to be eaten. But when the shark opened its jaws, the rush of air ignited the fuel in the gasoline tank. A huge fireball exploded and the sand shark was no more.
Melvin opened his eyes. He was back in the dusty bookstore. The plump woman's eyes twinkled as she said, "Did you enjoy your scary adventure?"
Melvin wiped his brow with his handkerchief and laughed. “It was the best time I ever had." He tucked the hankie back into this pocket.
“Didn't you forget something, dear Melvin?"
He looked around him. He had his glasses, his hankie and his cane. “I don't think so."
“Yes, you did.” She took out a tube of lipstick and daintily touched her lips with it. “As the hero, you forgot to kiss the girl.”
Melvin Milpot smiled. He took the plump woman in his arms and puckered up.
Melvin swallowed hard. He wanted to run away, but he had to wait until just the right moment. He held the flaming handkerchief just above the ruptured gasoline tank and chewed his lip. Just as the monstrous shark opened its gaping jaws wider, Melvin dropped the handkerchief, jumped from the Jeep, and took off running. The shark’s massive jaws closed around the crumpled vehicle. It turned to chase Melvin.
Melvin struggled to climb a high sand dune. His leg gave out again. He stumbled and rolled down the dune toward the shark. The monstrous creature opened its mouth. Melvin closed his eyes and waited to be eaten. But when the shark opened its jaws, the rush of air ignited the fuel in the gasoline tank. A huge fireball exploded and the sand shark was no more.
Melvin opened his eyes. He was back in the dusty bookstore. The plump woman's eyes twinkled as she said, "Did you enjoy your scary adventure?"
Melvin wiped his brow with his handkerchief and laughed. “It was the best time I ever had." He tucked the hankie back into this pocket.
“Didn't you forget something, dear Melvin?"
He looked around him. He had his glasses, his hankie and his cane. “I don't think so."
“Yes, you did.” She took out a tube of lipstick and daintily touched her lips with it. “As the hero, you forgot to kiss the girl.”
Melvin Milpot smiled. He took the plump woman in his arms and puckered up.
Well, Bonefish, what did you think of Nothing Ever Happens to Me?
That story had a lot of problems, Mr. Butt. That’s why I enjoyed it.
Good. Giving characters problems that they must resolve makes stories enjoyable to read.
But why don’t we just buy an idea potion instead of coming up with characters and problems? You can get an idea potion cheap at Crazy Lulu’s Potions, Curses and Chili Shack out on Haunted Lake.
Thank you, no. I once bought an idea potion from Crazy Lulu. It was terrible. That potion made me come up with the most horrible writing ideas.
Like what?
Like a sequel to James and the Giant Peach called Bernie and the Fairly Large Kumquat. It also suggested a book of tips for raising ravenous hyenas as pets. Another idea was to write a book about a boy with terrible gas problems caused by a magical elf. It was called Harry Pooter and the Goblin of Farts.”
That story had a lot of problems, Mr. Butt. That’s why I enjoyed it.
Good. Giving characters problems that they must resolve makes stories enjoyable to read.
But why don’t we just buy an idea potion instead of coming up with characters and problems? You can get an idea potion cheap at Crazy Lulu’s Potions, Curses and Chili Shack out on Haunted Lake.
Thank you, no. I once bought an idea potion from Crazy Lulu. It was terrible. That potion made me come up with the most horrible writing ideas.
Like what?
Like a sequel to James and the Giant Peach called Bernie and the Fairly Large Kumquat. It also suggested a book of tips for raising ravenous hyenas as pets. Another idea was to write a book about a boy with terrible gas problems caused by a magical elf. It was called Harry Pooter and the Goblin of Farts.”
That last idea definitely stinks.
Yes, so why don’t you try making stories using CPR?
I’ll give it a whirl.
Yes, so why don’t you try making stories using CPR?
I’ll give it a whirl.
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Lesson Review
All finished, Mr. Butt.
Tell me the first story idea that you created using CPR. Who is your character?
My first character is a mad scientist named Prof. Boris.
And what is Prof. Boris’ problem?
He doesn’t know how to tie his shoes.
That’s not much of a problem, Bonefish. Someone shows him how to tie his shoes - end of story.
Hmm. How about Prof. Boris accidentally puts a hot dog into a vat of elephant DNA and creates a giant mutant wiener that he uses to take over the world.
That’s a frightfully smashing idea. And what is the resolution?
Prof. Boris hides this monstrous frankfurter in a concession stand at the World Series. Right before the game starts, his giant wiener jumps out and holds the crowd hostage.
And how does it end?
The fat lady who sings at the end of the game captures the monstrous frankfurter in a giant bun and ends the threat by eating it.
That would make a first rate funny story. What’s your next example?
My next character is Lionel Leopard.
Good name. And what is Lionel Leopard’s problem?
Lionel has rainbow colored spots and the other leopards make fun of him.
Nice problem. And what is the resolution?
He moves to Poughkeepsie, New York.
Why would a leopard move to Poughkeepsie, New York?
I don’t know. It sounded funny.
Having a funny sounding resolution and making it the ending of a good story are two different things.
How about this one? Lionel joins the circus and becomes a big star. His friends go to see him and are captured. He frees them and they realize their mistake in making fun of him. Lionel and the others return to Africa.
Much better. Bonefish, do you know notice how the main character's problem usually starts the story and the resolution to the problem ends it?
Hey, that's right. So all I have to do is go from the beginning to the end and I’ll get the middle.
Correct. Just remember to make it hard for your character to get what he wants. Chock the middle of your story full of obstacles for the main character to overcome on his way to getting what he wants. That makes conflict and conflict makes your stories Scary Good Writing.
Are you talking about fist fights when you talk about conflict?
I'm talking about making your character struggle to get what he wants. That can be something as simple as your character going to a water fountain for a drink and finding it out of order to being attacked by a wild band of pygmies.
So conflict can come from a boxing match or a spelling bee?
Anything that makes a character struggle to get what he or she wants results in conflict. Make it hard on your characters by giving them lot of problems. The bigger the problems, the deeper the conflicts, the deeper the conflicts, the more exciting the story.
Here’s an example of conflict through what characters want and what is stopping them:
A chickenhearted boy and his friend both want to win a million dollar reward for surviving a night in a haunted house. The friend wants the money so that he can escape the trailer park where he lives. That is what is at stake for him. The chickenhearted kid wants the money because he can’t pay for an operation to cure his sick grandmother and she will die. That is what is at stake for him. And that makes for great conflict. In stories, the reader wants lots of conflict.
You know, I just noticed that all the story lessons in Scary Good Writing have conflict in them.
Such as?
The town that wanted adjectives but didn’t want to give up their children to get them or the girl who wants to leave the forest, but must solve the riddles or be lost forever.
That’s right, Bonefish. Say, would you like to hear a story that has lots of conflict?
No, I’d hate it.
What?
I hate your stories, Mr. Butt. I quit. I don’t want to be a writer anymore.
What do you mean you hate my stories and don’t want to be a writer? Do you know what will happen to me if you quit? It’s straight down I go and you'll die.
Who cares? Your stories stink and I don’t want to be a writer. I want to be a chicken plucker.
But I go straight to…. Wait a minute, why are you smiling?
You were right. It sure is fun to create conflict. Now let’s hear your story.
Lionel has rainbow colored spots and the other leopards make fun of him.
Nice problem. And what is the resolution?
He moves to Poughkeepsie, New York.
Why would a leopard move to Poughkeepsie, New York?
I don’t know. It sounded funny.
Having a funny sounding resolution and making it the ending of a good story are two different things.
How about this one? Lionel joins the circus and becomes a big star. His friends go to see him and are captured. He frees them and they realize their mistake in making fun of him. Lionel and the others return to Africa.
Much better. Bonefish, do you know notice how the main character's problem usually starts the story and the resolution to the problem ends it?
Hey, that's right. So all I have to do is go from the beginning to the end and I’ll get the middle.
Correct. Just remember to make it hard for your character to get what he wants. Chock the middle of your story full of obstacles for the main character to overcome on his way to getting what he wants. That makes conflict and conflict makes your stories Scary Good Writing.
Are you talking about fist fights when you talk about conflict?
I'm talking about making your character struggle to get what he wants. That can be something as simple as your character going to a water fountain for a drink and finding it out of order to being attacked by a wild band of pygmies.
So conflict can come from a boxing match or a spelling bee?
Anything that makes a character struggle to get what he or she wants results in conflict. Make it hard on your characters by giving them lot of problems. The bigger the problems, the deeper the conflicts, the deeper the conflicts, the more exciting the story.
Here’s an example of conflict through what characters want and what is stopping them:
A chickenhearted boy and his friend both want to win a million dollar reward for surviving a night in a haunted house. The friend wants the money so that he can escape the trailer park where he lives. That is what is at stake for him. The chickenhearted kid wants the money because he can’t pay for an operation to cure his sick grandmother and she will die. That is what is at stake for him. And that makes for great conflict. In stories, the reader wants lots of conflict.
You know, I just noticed that all the story lessons in Scary Good Writing have conflict in them.
Such as?
The town that wanted adjectives but didn’t want to give up their children to get them or the girl who wants to leave the forest, but must solve the riddles or be lost forever.
That’s right, Bonefish. Say, would you like to hear a story that has lots of conflict?
No, I’d hate it.
What?
I hate your stories, Mr. Butt. I quit. I don’t want to be a writer anymore.
What do you mean you hate my stories and don’t want to be a writer? Do you know what will happen to me if you quit? It’s straight down I go and you'll die.
Who cares? Your stories stink and I don’t want to be a writer. I want to be a chicken plucker.
But I go straight to…. Wait a minute, why are you smiling?
You were right. It sure is fun to create conflict. Now let’s hear your story.
Hair Today, Gone Tonight.
It was late. The Wolf Man and Bigfoot arrived at the Mexican Hairless Body Waxing Salon at the same time. The owner looked at the schedule and saw that there was only one appointment left. "Lo siento, señors. I am sorry," Mr. Miguel said with a slight accent. He wore a flowered smock and an earring in his nose. "But I can only wax one of you this evening."
The Wolf Man bounded forward. "I'll go.”
Bigfoot grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Now hold on there, fuzz face. Why should you get the appointment?”
The werewolf’s jaw dropped. “Why should I get the appointment? Do you have any idea what it's like to be clean-shaven all day and then, all of a sudden, the full moon blooms and you look like a Chia pet?” He tugged the hair on his face. “I've gone through seven electric razors this year.”
Bigfoot razzed his lips. “Pshaw, I'm covered with hair 24 seven. And I live out in the woods. You know how hot it gets in the woods in the middle of summer?”
The Wolf Man rolled his eyes. “You should be used to it. Me? I'm cool all day and then the full moon comes out and no air conditioner can beat the heat caused by all this fur."
"At least you have air conditioning,” Bigfoot said. "In the woods, I have to wait for a breeze. And the ticks are murder. Do you know how much time I spend trying to find ticks in all this hair?”
“Ticks? I wish I had ticks. It's the fleas that are driving me crazy. They hang around the house waiting for me to change and then jump on me like I’m an all-you-can-eat buffet.”
“Get a flea collar.”
“I tried that once. I ended up in the dog pound. A case of mistaken identity. Now if you don't mind I'm going to get my body waxed.” He pushed past the seven-foot-tall ape man.
“Oh no, you're not.” Bigfoot grabbed both of his arms and plunked him onto the couch.
“Oh yes I am.”
The Wolfman sprang to his feet. The two monsters squared off.
Mr. Miguel jumped between them and raised his arms. “Señors, please, there is no need for this conflict. Perhaps a coin flip."
“I know a better way." The snarling Wolfman pounced on Bigfoot. The two growling creatures careened into a display of body lotion. Bottles flew all over the reception area. Bigfoot’s size 37 foot stepped on seven tubes at once. Silky white cream spurted across the room.
“Señors, stop this fighting! You will wreck my shop," Mr. Miguel shouted.
Bigfoot and the Wolf Man slipped on the spilled lotion and slid into the magazine rack. Copies of the Body Wax Gazette flew into the air like paper birds.
Just then, a giant hand reached through the entrance and grabbed the wrestling monsters. The gargatuan hand pulled them out the door and dropped them into a huge mouth. There was a loud gulp.
King Kong stuck his head through the doorway and said politely, “I believe you have one appointment left to get a full body waxing?"
Mr. Miguel looked up at the vast expanse of hair on the 50-foot-tall ape and said, "This is going to be a long night."
The Wolf Man bounded forward. "I'll go.”
Bigfoot grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Now hold on there, fuzz face. Why should you get the appointment?”
The werewolf’s jaw dropped. “Why should I get the appointment? Do you have any idea what it's like to be clean-shaven all day and then, all of a sudden, the full moon blooms and you look like a Chia pet?” He tugged the hair on his face. “I've gone through seven electric razors this year.”
Bigfoot razzed his lips. “Pshaw, I'm covered with hair 24 seven. And I live out in the woods. You know how hot it gets in the woods in the middle of summer?”
The Wolf Man rolled his eyes. “You should be used to it. Me? I'm cool all day and then the full moon comes out and no air conditioner can beat the heat caused by all this fur."
"At least you have air conditioning,” Bigfoot said. "In the woods, I have to wait for a breeze. And the ticks are murder. Do you know how much time I spend trying to find ticks in all this hair?”
“Ticks? I wish I had ticks. It's the fleas that are driving me crazy. They hang around the house waiting for me to change and then jump on me like I’m an all-you-can-eat buffet.”
“Get a flea collar.”
“I tried that once. I ended up in the dog pound. A case of mistaken identity. Now if you don't mind I'm going to get my body waxed.” He pushed past the seven-foot-tall ape man.
“Oh no, you're not.” Bigfoot grabbed both of his arms and plunked him onto the couch.
“Oh yes I am.”
The Wolfman sprang to his feet. The two monsters squared off.
Mr. Miguel jumped between them and raised his arms. “Señors, please, there is no need for this conflict. Perhaps a coin flip."
“I know a better way." The snarling Wolfman pounced on Bigfoot. The two growling creatures careened into a display of body lotion. Bottles flew all over the reception area. Bigfoot’s size 37 foot stepped on seven tubes at once. Silky white cream spurted across the room.
“Señors, stop this fighting! You will wreck my shop," Mr. Miguel shouted.
Bigfoot and the Wolf Man slipped on the spilled lotion and slid into the magazine rack. Copies of the Body Wax Gazette flew into the air like paper birds.
Just then, a giant hand reached through the entrance and grabbed the wrestling monsters. The gargatuan hand pulled them out the door and dropped them into a huge mouth. There was a loud gulp.
King Kong stuck his head through the doorway and said politely, “I believe you have one appointment left to get a full body waxing?"
Mr. Miguel looked up at the vast expanse of hair on the 50-foot-tall ape and said, "This is going to be a long night."
How did you like the conflict in that story, Bonefish?
It got a bit hairy at times. Putting two characters together that want the same thing at the same time sure does cause an interesting ruckus.
Making two characters want the same thing for different reasons is a wonderful way to create conflict. All good stories, funny or dramatic, have lots of conflict. If you want conflict in your stories, always ask these three questions: What do your characters want? What’s at stake if they don’t get it now? And what is stopping them?
Speaking of problems, what's your third example of a story idea using Character Problem and Resolution?
The character in my third example is a little girl named Mary. Her problem is that she has no imagination because she doesn't read so when a monster called the Bookieman...
Wait just a doggone minute, Bonefish. That just happens to be the plot of our next story lesson.
I know, Mr. Butt. I skipped ahead in the course.
It got a bit hairy at times. Putting two characters together that want the same thing at the same time sure does cause an interesting ruckus.
Making two characters want the same thing for different reasons is a wonderful way to create conflict. All good stories, funny or dramatic, have lots of conflict. If you want conflict in your stories, always ask these three questions: What do your characters want? What’s at stake if they don’t get it now? And what is stopping them?
Speaking of problems, what's your third example of a story idea using Character Problem and Resolution?
The character in my third example is a little girl named Mary. Her problem is that she has no imagination because she doesn't read so when a monster called the Bookieman...
Wait just a doggone minute, Bonefish. That just happens to be the plot of our next story lesson.
I know, Mr. Butt. I skipped ahead in the course.
