bag·man (băg’mәn) n., pl. –men (mĭn). 1. Slang.

dishonest official; a person who collects, carries, or distributes illegal payoff money.

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

The Pulp Master Plot for Adding Themes and Devices, or Weird Things Writers Do

           I love Westerns. I have yet to write a serious one, but c’mon, what could be more pulp? Science Fiction, Hard Boiled Crime, The Weird Tale, The Pulp Hero, Adventure, and the Western have always been the big six pulp genres for me, even if the Smithsonian did only let the first three in.
Painting by Walter Baumhoffer
As a writer, you can learn a lot from Westerns. While their simplicity, limitations, and cultural references will probably keep the genre reeling in and out of popularity forever, you’re dealing with a very established world. Because the myth of the gunslinger has become legend there are different versions of that world, but the boundaries of the story are stiff as far as time, place, and even character. In other words, you need to be a great plotter, or have one hell of an original idea, if you want to write a story that doesn’t have more clichés and holes in it than you could drive a covered wagon through.
So, Sunday morning, the movie From Hell to Texas pops up on my TV. Not a bad Western, and with a very pulp opening so it gets my attention. Now, Romance as a genre is something I’ve never mastered, but I’m well-aware that back in the day it stirred some surprising controversy among Western fans, including the readers of Wild West Weekly. Some boys just wanted to see cowboys kiss their horses and that was that. But, Ranch Romances were the best-selling magazines on the rack, and movies had to appeal to everybody, women and men. I could somehow sense the romance had been forced into this story. Now, the fact that this movie had held me through ten minutes of that romance suddenly inspired me. 
Could I decipher a method to insert a romance into a story—OR, EVEN BETTER—could I chart out A PLOT DESIGNED TO ADD ALMOST ANY THEME INTO A STORY, AND STILL HOLD THE READERS ATTENTION? In theory, this could be used with clues in a mystery, the introduction of new upcoming characters and settings, a growing character flaw, or a hundred other plot points. You name it!
So, I began to section out the plot of the movie, deciphering 1) which parts were action or plot revelations, 2) Character development, and 3) Romance. From Hell to Texas is a 135-minute movie, but you can think of minutes as pages or any other unit. It’s the timing I’m looking at.
135-minute movie
First 20 min:
Action, cause, result
20-30 min:
Character development w/ hints at Romance

30-35 min:
Decision made by hero.

35-55 min:
Action, cause, result

55-60 min.
Romance


60-75 min: tension builds as pieces line up.

75-80 min:
Romance
(representing hope for the future/what’s at stake)


80-90 min.
Action

90-95 min: wrap up.


What this tells me is that a third of the story is OVER before we even think about romance, or whatever other plot theme you may be looking to insert into your story. It’s struck on, but only while defining our characters in order to tell the rest of the story.
If this was a three-act play, Romance wouldn’t come up again until the second act—and, boy is it fast—almost forced in some Westerns because “getting the girl” is considered part of the prize. But, even as Romance comes up again it’s more thought than action because tension is building in the background, and we’re led back into the action.
Later, we get five minutes of romance—used to represent hope for a future goal and everything that’s at stake—before the big finale, and maybe another five minutes in the plot wrap-up.
Break it up into three acts. Romance at end of first act. Romance at end of second act. The beginning of the third act builds plot and tension, and Romance stands out like a hostage in the middle before the final conflict. When it all ends there’s just enough Romance left to hint at some in the future, and our story is over.
Some of you may recognize this as the norm, some of you may not, and some may say I’m overthinking it. So why do this? Because, while I believe a story should structure itself, sometimes when you’re hammering one out, it’s nice to know where to put things. If you look at enough things like this, sometimes they might just fall into the right place. I’m intrigued especially by how this timeline might be used with subplots and with clues in mysteries. I also have a feeling you might see me using it in the future regardless of genre. I may not map it out, but I’ll definitely give it some thought. Like a lot of writing, this stuff becomes subconscious. “Give it some thought, but don’t think about it.”
So, yeah, this is one of those weird things writers do. Me at least. Now if I could just get them to pay me by the hour for all this thought.