Category Archives: -Karen Kittrell

Little Free Libraries Deliver the Goods

LFL1bblue LFLExpectations hinge on a hint of plot—a clever title, an eye-catching cover design or the hook of a story’s first sentence. I recently found three Little Free Libraries (LFL) with clear messages to prospective readers. Although my LFL discovery from last month, Twisted by Jeffery Deaver, makes me suspicious of every motive and surprise plot twist, Deaver delivers suspense from the beginning to the end. Today, however, everything is exactly as it appears.

Little Free Library #1 – Young  and Wild

After a brisk walk, I find LFL #1 in a small green space. In the spirit of modern art, this LFL’s exterior captures the human experience of bold strikes against nature. Artwork like this requires considerable skill to accomplish the appearance of such complete randomness. The book collection tumbles from the shelves. The library’s selection aims for a younger audience.

What’s this? Eric Carle? Pancakes?LFLc I’ve never read this book. I flip through the pages. It’s Carle collage magic. I want to read it, enjoy the hand-painted paper and deceptively clever plot. Should I take it? Instead of depriving a child of Carle’s artwork, I put the book back and find Czech Cookery. I love quirky cookbooks. I search the index for Kolaches. I’m converting to gluten free when I feel a tap on my shoulder. Did I mention I recruited my spouse to come along? He asks if I really want to find all the LFLs in less than one hour. I put the cookbook back, and we walk south for the long stretch to LFL #2.

The spouse is much better with time management, but he’s a magnet for ladies asking for directions. And as with most of our walks, a car with somebody’s mother pulls along side us when I’m in my aerobic pathway. Directions to Detroit? That will take at least ten minutes to explain. No, no, don’t pull out the phone. Not the GPS. I’m jogging in place when he gives me the “chill out” look that both my sons’ inherited. I fidget through his five minutes of instructions and inform him that we will have to walk faster and maybe have to cut through the horse carriage racing track, dodge horse trailers and off-track gamblers rushing to place the big bet of the day. The spouse holds a hand skyward. I feel it too—the occasional drop of rain.

20151213_154704Little Free Library #2 – Whimsical, Worldly and Wise

This LFL is in a parking lot beside the Chamber of Commerce and next to rarely traveled railroad tracks. Despite the setting, the box exudes a magical aura like the tickling of glass or the floating of a hovering hummingbird drawn to a flower. I’m attracted to this box and take a moment to organize the contents. I line up my final two choices of literary fiction, Graham Greene and Richard Brautigan. “Revenge of the Lawn” gets my vote. I tuck the paperback in my jacket to protect it from the rain.LFL2b

We walk west again and curve northward past the historical gristmill turned fitness club. I am a few steps toward the historical village, when I discover a Starbuck’s tractor beam latched on to the spouse luring him in the opposite direction. He says we don’t have time for the last box. It’s raining. He suggests we get a coffee instead. It’s a quest. We must go.

Little Free Library #3 – Meticulous and Meaningful

The last LFL is a tribute to Americana, little red schoolhouses, and all things learned and studious. The library is in a small park in a neighborhood nicknamed “cabbage patch” with playground equipment and benches. You can’t see it in the photo, but a steady rain falls on the fire-engine red sides with precision painted shingles and picket fence. This LFL replicates everything fiery about reading and learning. I find inside my fire, Flash Boys, by Michael Lewis, the book written by the same author as The Big Short. I take it. The spouse sighs and ambles to the new brew pub near Main.

LFL3My quest highlights the collaborative result of the Rotary Club, the Art House and the Public Library to place kitschy Little Free Libraries in the public and encourage reading. I have a bag of books sorted to go to each library for the appropriate audience. If you have a Little Free Library in your life, please feel free to share the art and contents of your box.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Little Free Twisted Plot

read box libraryOn my latest plotting pilgrimage, I discover plot in a Little Free Library. How can I resist free books to read and a hastle-free return? An amazing 36,000 little free libraries populate the world. My discovery of this little treasure changes everything I have done in the past.

Plot Playgrounds

Plot resources exist in many places. My first name basis with the librarians and circulation desk clerks at my public library hints to how often I go there. All my childhood years in Bible-belt Sunday School classes lend to parables and paradigms for short stories. Small bookstores and writer-friendly Barnes and Noble win my dollar votes. Digital journals and Twitter deliver content at the swipe of a few keys.

Plot in a Box

A Little Free Library, however, is open after hours and on holidays. I never pay shipping or late fees. I never waste gasoline or get stressed about parking. The library is art—a four-sided painted montage inside and out. My heart beats a little faster at the sight of the box. Yes, there is the thrill of the hunt aspect, but I’m usually walking or jogging to the library—getting genuine exercise. I can’t drive past without yielding to a pressing curiosity to stop and check what’s inside. It is a sad day when my passengers decline my invitation to stop and get a book.

Jeffery Deaver TwistedPlot in All the Right Places

My hand trembles as I slide the latch open. Glimpses of good books show through the glass. Anticipation is key here. Inside, I find a book, Twisted, The Collected Stories of Jeffrey Deaver. It’s short stories with plot twists—perfect. The author writes, “Though I love to make evil appear to be good (and vice versa) and to dangle the potential for disaster before my readers, nonetheless, in the end, good is good and bad is bad, and good more or less prevails.”  Deaver experiments with short stories. “Short stories are like a sniper’s bullet. Fast and shocking. I can make good bad and bad badder and, most fun of all, really good really bad.” I find plotting gold in this Little Free Library and discover more Little Free Libraries are within walking distance. Should we go?

 

 

 

Chutes and Ladders—Plotting for ages 3-100

gameGames teach the mechanics of plot. A player begins Chutes and Ladders on a path with some ladders up and some chutes down. The sequence of action and consequence is plot, pure and simple.

Same Game Different Century

The Milton Bradley game comes from an ancient Indian game called Snakes and Ladders. In Moksha Patam, the game follows Hindu philosophy and morality lessons with few ladders for virtues and many snakes for vices. Salman Rushdie wrote in Midnight’s Children about the game as “the eternal truth that for every ladder you hope to climb, a snake is waiting just around the corner, and for every snake a ladder will compensate.”

Mastering the Game

Snakes are consequences for vices such as disobedience, vanity, vulgarity, theft, lying, drunkenness, debt, murder rage, greed, pride and lust. These plot elements sound like the playbook for Netflix’s House of Cards. In the television series, plot twists are the norm, and consequences rarely weigh on the characters’ decision to act. Character development and flaw emerge as the driving force for plot (see Plotting for the Flaw). In House of Cards, each character’s manipulation, deception and corruption goes without consequence, until the proverbial house of cards tumbles to the ground.

The Parallel Plot Game

Beyond the character contributions to plot, the game board offers second attempts and alternate possibilities—both forms of parallel plots. For example, every child playing this game, has counted the spaces to the next ladder and hoped to roll that exact number. Often, the die indicates a number short of the goal, and the outcome of the game changes. When I missed a ladder, or even worse when I landed on the long slide back to the beginning, I thought what if . . .  what if . . . I had rolled one space more.

The What If Game

The movie, Sliding Doors, is the one space more plot. The film shows two alternate realities based on either catching a train or missing it. Children’s books, such as Goosebumps by R. L. Stine, try this format with choosing different outcomes by flipping a coin, but the choice is one or the other. Sliding Doors shows both outcomes at the same time, jumping between each version in a confusing medley of scenes from the beginning of the film until the ending. As with other parallel plots, the emotional highs and lows are braided and mirrored with the two plot lines (see Paula Picked a Plighted Path . . .). With characters in common, the two plot lines—although parallel and in alternate realities—occasionally trip over each other in theme and traipse into the same settings at even the same times. While this film’s structure rates high for creativity, the challenge is how to bring two stories spiraling in different directions back together at the end. In this film, the solution is a similar event in the same setting with alternate outcomes—life or death. Another example of alternate realities is Maybe in Another Life by Taylor Jenkins Reid which shows alternating chapters of the protagonist’s choices.

The “Back to Square One” Game

In the “back to square one” scenario, a player is trapped and stuck in a repetitive loop of one ladder and one chute. What happens the second time around? The same events? Different? In the movie Groundhog Day, this different perspective occurs and reoccurs as a form of parallel plots. The protagonist tests the limits of his actions (vices) in a seemingly endless cycle of romantic comedy consequences of the “boy loses girl” variety. Eventually, the character decides to use his recycled groundhog days to improve his behavior (virtues), and the character arc takes him to the romantic comedy conclusion of “boy gets girl.”

The Next Generation’s Game

My basement is fertile ground for role playing games such as Grand Theft Auto. In GTA IV, the gamer chooses one of three characters, one of three parallel plots. Video games intensify the game playing experience of previous generations. Readers from this generation will expect parallel plots and creative structures beyond the basics of story.

“She Wants to Dance Like Uma Thurman” Fallout Boy

Thank you Fallout Boy for reminding me of another plot structure. Consecutive stories in   parallel narratives are one of the special ingredients in Pulp Fiction directed by Quentin Tarantino. Granted, there is plenty to love or hate about the film. Before I first watched Pulp Fiction, I knew people who had left mid-show because of the graphic scenes. I also knew cinematography buffs, who quoted the film verbatim. For this post, I ask you to consider only the story structure and to forget about Uma Thurman dancing, the drugs, the language and the violence.

Deceiving and confusing for a majority of the movie, Pulp Fiction keeps the audience off-balance with a scrambled time sequence. The first two scenes escalate to a moment of high tension and then abruptly end. In the opening diner scene, Tarantino pauses the action at a point where guns are drawn and a robbery is in progress. The film leaps to an unrelated scene with Vincent Vega and Jules Winnfield driving to Brett’s apartment. In the middle of the apartment scene, the film shifts ahead to follow Vincent Vega, the main character of the first of three consecutive stories.KarenBlog1-8-16

After the third story concludes, the diner scene comes into perspective as a book-end, both a prologue and an epilogue to the three plots in Pulp Fiction. On her website, Linda Aronson describes this structure as a portmanteau or bag structure, one story that contains the other stories.

Titles in the movie provide a swift transition from one story to the next. The first story is Vincent Vega and Marsellus Wallace’s Wife. The Gold Watch is Butch Collidge’s object story; a flashback shows the receipt of his father’s important watch. The Bonnie Situation is Jules Winnfield’s revelation story. The order is not chronological because Pulp Fiction employs a fractured frame portmanteau, one story split to bookend the other stories within a shifted time frame. I confess to mapping the time sequence on a notepad only after erasing half a dozens times and marking shifts with arrows, numbers and letters. Consider the scenes below. The number bullets show the films order. The alphabet bullets reveal the true chronological order. Not every scene is on my list—only the scenes with time shifts.

 

                        Film Order (1-9) / Chronological Order (A-J)

1D) DINER SCENE Honey Bunny and Pumpkin

——-Vincent Vega and Marsellus Wallace’s Wife——

2B) VINCENT and Jules in Brett’s APARTMENT SCENE

3F) Marsellus tells BUTCH to lose the fight and VINCENT to escort wife

——The Gold Watch——

            4A) BUTCH receives watch FLASHBACK

5G) BUTCH returns for watch / shoots Vincent

——The Bonnie Situation——

6C) JULES miracle in Brett’s APARTMENT SCENE with Vincent

7E) DINER SCENE JULES, Vincent and Pumpkin

The intersection of the plots gives the viewer only a few hints to order the scenes. The initial scene with Honey Bunny and Pumpkin’s robbery-in-action hooks the viewer at the beginning of the film, but chronologically, this scene is in the middle of the movie. “The Bonnie Situation” occurs before the diner scene but is shown at the end of the film. In the Gold Watch, Butch Coolidge shoots Vincent. The movie, however, leapfrogs backward in time to show Vincent alive with Jules in “The Bonnie Situation.” Jules’ words foreshadow Vincent’s fate. The viewer knows of Vincent’s coming death because it has already played in the out-of-order time continuum. Sound confusing? It is.

This film’s fractured frame provides a building of the plot’s violent intensity. After Bret’s apartment, the film departs to lighter topics before coming back to the most graphic scene in “The Bonnie Situation.” Perhaps my word choice of lighter topics sounds absurd for scenes containing a drug overdose, a brawl to near death and sexual bondage. In this film, however, greater incidents of violence lead to greater examples of hope—resurrection from death, rescue of an enemy, and repentance—in Tarantino’s portrayal of darkness or nihilism. Both the cause and consequences are plot.

Paula Picked a Plighted Path of Parallel Plots

KarensSeveral chapters into Paula Hawkins’ best seller The Girl on the Train, I note the thriller’s structure of three character point of view with parallel plots. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, by David Shafer, which I also read in the fall, follows the same three character parallel plot. Although the point of view and plot structure are similar, these two books are vastly different.

Shafer begins his novel in Mandalay, Myanmar which I recently toured via tablet, the safest way to sightsee an exotic setting with movie backdrop potential. Location organizes the three equally-weighted plots and is shown at the beginning of each chapter. After round one of each of the points of view, the reader knows which location indicates which character. Portland is Leo. Mandalay begins Leila’s story. New York is Mark’s departure point.

Ansen Dibell, author of Plot, identifies this structure as a braided plot where the “pace, tone and color” of each plot blends and adds to a deeper and richer whole. Shafer’s novel is also a tandem narrative according to Linda Aronson because each of the stories presents a linear progression in time. Although the plots begin separately, a convergence occurs three times: Mark and Leila meeting at Heathrow Airport, Leila escorting Leo from Whispering Pines Rehab, and Leila and Leo rescuing Mark from a motivational speaking gig gone bad. Elizabeth Sims appropriately calls this a swallowtail plot because the convergence and interaction of the characters continues for a significant portion of the story.

The characters in Shafer’s novel are unique and humorous. A Goodreads review describes my favorite character Leo as the “unhinged trustafarian.” He’s a trust fund baby and Harvard graduate who works at a daycare. The problem with having a favorite is I don’t want to read the other plots in this dark comedy, such as Mark, the “phony self betterment guru.” And yawn, I skim the chapters on the too serious, Leila, “disillusioned non-profit worker.” The balance of each characters lows and highs keeps the overall novel’s pace clicking along with plot and subplot.

For something completely different, Hawkins’ The Girl on the Train shows Dibell’s mirrored pattern of plots. The three women are connected as opposites, and at other times, as complements in emotion, life stages, themes and imagery. Each chapter in the story begins with a character’s name, day of the week, date and time of day. In the first chapter, the main protagonist, Rachel, travels morning and evening for five days on the train. The story’s motion feels like commuting, stopping, starting and sharing an awkward space with the same faces going the same way at the same time each day. The reader learns of Rachel’s alcoholic behaviors, cheers her sobriety and dreads what will come of her next drinking binge and her calls to ex-husband, Tom.

As for Rachel, her plot and Megan’s are true parallels in a geometric sense and never intersect. These two plots and points of view alternate for the first third of the book before Anna’s point of view presents. Anna intersects with Rachel and with Megan but at different time periods–one in the present and one in the past. Hawkin’s story illustrates what Aronson calls a fractured tandem, current time for Rachel and Anna but a past time frame for Megan. Aronson identifies this parallel plot structure as good for “unexpected, often tragic connections between disparate people.” That sentence pretty much sums up the book for me.

The technique of parallel plots is a time tested convention. Contemporary writers borrow from 16th century Shakespeare who copied from first century Greek philosopher, Plutarch. In “King Lear,” Shakespeare mirrors plot and subplot to intensify the drama. Both The Girl on the Train and Whiskey Tango Foxtrot benefit from the intricate weaving of plots and mirroring of characters.

Tags: parallel plots, writers craft, The Girl on the Train, Paula Hawkins, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, David Shafer, Linda Aronson, Ansen Dibell, Elizabeth Sims, Shakespeare, “King Lear”