The Entrance

[hmmnmm]

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[TheeGoatPig]

I find it best to introduce major characters in the first half of a story, even if only in name. I don't like people coming in out of nowhere and saying "Hey, I just came out of nowhere to further the story along." Example:

They were all having sex when Glenda's husband showed up out of nowhere to start yelling and screaming at everyone, yet we had no idea that she had a husband until now.

Let us know that Glenda had a husband, or at least hint at it if you want it to be a mystery. Don't just wait for the last page and tack him in there for shock value.

 

[hmmnmm]

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[Weird Harold]

I've been dabbling with several story ideas the last few months and I keep running into a familiar obstacle: the entrance of a new - and crucial - character.
...
I seem to overdo it or lose the effect.

I try to limit the "entrance" of a character to "first impressions" -- what do you notice first about someone? What kind of snap judgements do you make about someone based on what you notice first about them?

"A wave of stunned silence swept through the bar as people became aware of the pair of huge tits leading a petite blonde in a skin-tight dress up to the bar..."

That's a bit of exageration suitable for a private eye parody, but the point is that the observer/narrator isn't getting her life history -- or even noticing the color of her eyes -- when she's first introduced to the story. Save the details of the character and dole them out sparingly as the observer/narrator finally looks past the huge tits and skin-tight dress and learns more about her.

Think about how you get to know someone and how you learn about them in small bite-sized increments -- you notice their appearance; you learn their name; you engage in small-talk and notice things about the voice and speech patterns and maybe assume something from their preference in drinks.

Assuming that you eventually learn "everything there is to know" about the person, it is probably a matter of months, if not years, before you learn about things like childhood traumas, first lover(s), and all of the other things that don't come up in casual conversations.

I disagree with TheeGoatPig to some extent -- Foreshadowing the appearance of a character isn't always appropriate or necessary. Women do hide their marital status and men do fail to notice inconsistencies in a woman's story/behavior when they're "thinking with the little head" -- the sudden ananticipate husband appearance of a jealous husband -- or ex-husband -- is totally plausible.

However, I do agree with "Don't just wait for the last page and tack him in there for shock value." If you do spring the existance of a jealous husband on the reader, do so with premeditation and with a purpose more complex than "shock value."

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Short stories aren't (or shouldn't be) reduced versions of novels, and the writing of a short story involves (or should involve) techniques that are different from the ones you use when writing a novel. Wasting space and time with character entrances, with characters moving from place to place, with characters deciding what to put on and to what side of the bed should they throw their clothes, is rarely a good idea in short stories, unless those are the things that are fundamental to define a particular character or situation in that particular story. If you feel you overdo it, then don't. Most of the time, in a short story, driven by essentials, a new character can simply be there.

 

[Liar]

I'm kind of in favor of the interruption method. Let the reader experience what the characters experience when they are in the middle of whatever important stuff they do, and a new dude enters. What would be their natural reaction?

---

Leslie and Jen kept looping their hushed argument of hissings and snarls, while Marcus whined quietly to his pathetic self and Joss was a statue of self righteous grumpyness staring out the window.

"You fucking pussies."

Four heads turned as one to stare at the door. Or not. The actual door had been replaced with a door shaped behemoth of a man. He was rugged as a split brick, wide as a...well...a door, and sported a grin that could chew the neck off a grizzly.

"Right," Leslie thought. "That's it. We're dead."

 

[MagicaPractica]

I think it depends on how much of an impact you want the entrance to have. Is it merely a mention or is it a show stopper? Give it the appropriate amount of time based on the impact it should have.

 

[3113]

I'm meaning more in the early stages, the bringing of the major characters together, who may have been strangers prior to their meeting.

What do you mean by a short story? I ask that because some folk writing here for Lit will say, "a short story"--and then when you read it, it's 10 Chapters long

Lauren makes an *excellent* point that in a short story (say 20-30 pages) you shouldn't waste time with manuvering characters into place for an entrance. All important characters should be in place ASAP. There are, I think, three ways to go doing this:

1) Let us see them, but don't put them in the spotlight (more on that later).
2) Let us HEAR about them, so when they show, we feel we already know them.
3) Let them be a complete surprise--this relates back to the unexpected husband, and as mentioned, only works in certain stories. Like pure stroke or humor or sometimes horror.

In regards to complete suprise ("Oh, my gosh! It's my husband!"..."What? You're married!?") whether that works or not is similar to the Hitchcock bomb example--if two people are talking over coffee and a bomb explodes under the table, the audience will be surprised. If two people are talking and the audience SEES the bomb ticking away under the table, then the audience will be in suspense. The question is: which do you want?

The bomb exploding is *fine* if that laugh or jump of surprise is what you're going for. If it's not in tune with the tone of the story, however, the reader will get annoyed.

Getting back to the first two methods: One very cool trick you can do is to introduce the character, but introduce them low-key, fade them out of the story until it's time for their moment in the spotlight. They were there all along in the background, so no big, new intro is required--yet the reader gets to be "surprised," as they'd probably forgotten about that character (Ex: Our hero is having coffee with his sister at the beginning of the story. The sister isn't mentioned very much after that as the story focuses on our Hero falling in love with the heroine. Then, toward the end, the sister reappears to present the hero with a crisis that is also a major plot twist).

The second method is to have some mention of the character. The presumed-dead husband is talked about, or we hear about the superhero on the radio saving people in a distant land, or a young man bitterly mentions the mother who abandoned him years ago. When they appear we already know them, so they don't seem to fall into the story out of the blue.

Does any of this relate to what's giving you trouble?

 

[hmmnmm]

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[Weird Harold]

It's a late night, it's a bar scene but it's quiet. just the bartender and the narrator (first person). Then a couple women walk in... more or less an orgy, would've gone in the group sex category...

but I just had a devil of a time: where is the bar in relation to the door? Where is the narrator sitting? Do both the guys see the women approach? Or is a foggy night? Did they see a car pull up? Were they so lost in conversation or a game on television that they didn't even notice the women come in?

Ah Ha!

Your problem isn't the "Entrance" it's "Setting the Mood" -- a much more difficult proposition.

Once you get the mood set, the "entrance" will write itself.

 

[hmmnmm]

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[3113]

It's a late night, it's a bar scene but it's quiet. just the bartender and the narrator (first person). Then a couple women walk in... more or less an orgy, would've gone in the group sex category...

but I just had a devil of a time: where is the bar in relation to the door? Where is the narrator sitting? Do both the guys see the women approach? Or is a foggy night? Did they see a car pull up? Were they so lost in conversation or a game on television that they didn't even notice the women come in?

Actually, I see your problem as having an entrance, period. Toss out the entrance entirely, and it works.

"It was going on forty minutes past closing time and the goth girls were still at the corner table, drinking their way through a second bottle of vodka...."

Something like that.

See. If they're already in the bar, you don't have to worry about how or when they came in. The bartender and narrator, as you suggest, was busy and didn't see them come in (and can say so if you like). They're already there and you can get down to the story, to describing them and how the narrator feels about them, to what they're saying and doing, rather than worrying about introducing the bar, bartender or the characters walking in

 

[hmmnmm]

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[Weird Harold]

Actually, I see your problem as having an entrance, period. Toss out the entrance entirely, and it works.

"It was going on forty minutes past closing time and the goth girls were still at the corner table, drinking their way through a second bottle of vodka...."

Something like that.

See. If they're already in the bar, you don't have to worry about how or when they came in.

Well, it was originally intended for the halloween contest, so I was attracted to the idea of a mysterious appearance or question marked origin. That's where the fog would come in. Something about fog.
But since halloween's long gone, I guess they could appear like regular people. And save the fog til next year.

I think there is a bit of confusion about what we all mean by "The Entrance" -- I'm thinking of it in terms of "the first mention of a character" while 3113 is thinking of it in the way I think of as "stage directions."

With a little added context and description, her example could be a "dark and mysterious" entrance or "bright and cheerful" entrance. Headlights intermittently lighting up the fog outside to illuminate the two Goth girls in an otherwise dark corner, would be a good element for a halloween story. The same bar and the same girls contrasted with swirling snow backlit by the streetlight changes the mood to somethingmore suitable to a Winter Holiday story.

Whether the main character/narrator notices them in the mirror behind the bar or because he's turned away from the bar and surveying the bar openly also makes a difference to the "mood."

The simple set-up of a man, a bartender, and two (Goth) girls finishing off bottle of vodka just past closing time can change a great deal depending on how you set up the mood and/or describe the setting.

In a way, 3113's example reminds me of the Story Challenges another site I used to visit had periodically. The premise of the Story Challenge was to propose a set of story elements to be included in a story an see who wrote the best story that included all of the challenge elements.

If we were to take the Bartender, Man, Two Girls elements from 3113's example and add your element of Fog, add some additional element for level of difficulty, like "a Tattoo of a Dalmatian," and a length limit of say 750-800 words, I wonder how many totally different scenarios the AH could come up with? It wouldn't be necessary to require a complete story, just a 750-800 word intro up to the point where the orgy begins -- or doesn't begin -- according to each author's resolution of the challenge.

 

[3113]

Well, it was originally intended for the halloween contest, so I was attracted to the idea of a mysterious appearance or question marked origin. That's where the fog would come in. Something about fog.
But since halloween's long gone, I guess they could appear like regular people. And save the fog til next year.

IMHO, there are two problems with this senario:

1) People entering a bar out of a fog doesn't quite work as being eerie because the fog isn't very active when it's outside and the scene is taking place inside (i.e., unlike a storm, it doesn't pound on the windows, rattle the door, boom over head or send chill air through the cracks). Fog is eerie if a person is walking down the deserted streets and comes upon someone else, appearing as if out of nowhere. That's scary.

But the door opens and women walk in--and it's foggy outside? Doesn't do much. Part of the problem is also due to the fact that the door isn't going to open itself and the fog part to reveal them. One of them has to be opening the door--and so the eeriness of them appearing out of the fog is lost. They're not appearing out of the fog, they're stepping through a door with the fog behind them.

So if you want to introduce them coming out a fog, have the Narrator meet them on HIS way to the bar. He pauses, hearing steps getting closer and closer, and they appear out of the fog. He can be embarassed by his fear and hold the door to the bar open for them to cover. It also gives him a chance to really look them over.

If, on the other hand, you want the women to enter the bar, then I recommend you go for a storm instead; it's much more active than a fog: "They came in out of the storm, shaking out their umbrellas...." or "looking oddly dry for all that it was pouring and they had no umbrellas..." etc.

I also like Weird Harold's idea of having the Narrator seem them "enter" via a mirror--if what they are can appear in a mirror.

2) People appearing out of a fog is a pretty broad hint that they're not human...unless you're planning on a real twist at the end. If, instead, you start with the women already in the bar, then the reader has to wonder: "Are they the ones who aren't human...or it is the narrator?"

And you can still have fog or a storm or whatever you like outside the bar. Just give the bar a window or two or three. Fog outside thick as pea soup or a storm raging, both of which keeps everyone in the bar.

Those, at least, are my thoughts on how to solve the problem while still keeping to the spirit, tone and intent of the story.

 

[dr_mabeuse]

It's a late night, it's a bar scene but it's quiet. just the bartender and the narrator (first person). Then a couple women walk in... more or less an orgy, would've gone in the group sex category...

but I just had a devil of a time: where is the bar in relation to the door? Where is the narrator sitting? Do both the guys see the women approach? Or is a foggy night? Did they see a car pull up? Were they so lost in conversation or a game on television that they didn't even notice the women come in?

This is one of the essentials of fiction writing - not just telling a story, but telling it in a way that gets the most meaning out of everything that happens. This is an art, and I don't know if it can be taught.

For instance: man in bar, woman walks in. There's an infinity of ways of doing this. You have to feel the one that sends the right message

Does he see her drive up in a car? That says something about him, that he's watching the street because he's bored or lonely maybe, anxious for something to happen, expecting something. Even the fact that she can drive up to the bar says volumes about the situation: the street's not busy (there's parking right outside), she drives her own car and so musthave been headed specifically for this bar, not just wandering in off the street. That means something too.

If he's talking to his buddies then he's not really looking for anyone and she just happens to him, which is important in itself. Also, we know right away that he's the kind of guy who goes out drinking with his buddies, and this is the kind of bar where guys sit around and watch TV.

Is he staring into his drink? He's distracted and preoccupied, maybe sad. Does she enter with a gust of cold air? That's going to send a subconscious message to the reader that she's going to bring a change. Does he maybe catch sight of her first in the mirror? That sends a message that involves secrets and deception, a taste of something supernatural because mirrors are supernatural and romantic.

And what's she like? How does she enter a bar? Does she slink in? Barge in? Sidle in cautiously? Stop and look around? Stand there with her hands on her hips? Walk, march, strut, stride, glide, float, amble, sashay, scurry, stumble? Each image, each verb and adjective builds a picture in the reader's mind, and in a good story, these subtleties are controlled and used so that, like in poetry, the words mean more than they say.

For me, that use of detail and setting even extends down to the weather outside. A woman entering a bar on a rainy night doesn't mean the same thing as the same women entering the same bar in the same way on a warm and balmy night, or a snowy night, or a scorching night in August, or a spooky night in October.

The world is too complicated for anyone to describe in full, so a good writer picks and chooses those things that give his story meaning and mood and emotion. It's what makes fiction fun and hard, and makes some stories feel thick and rich with meaning and some stories feel flat and dull. It's the writer's eye. I don't think there's any way to teach this. It's an art.

 

[Stella_Omega]

...

but I just had a devil of a time: where is the bar in relation to the door? Where is the narrator sitting? Do both the guys see the women approach? Or is a foggy night? Did they see a car pull up? Were they so lost in conversation or a game on television that they didn't even notice the women come in?

It doesn't matter where the bar is in relation to the door. Those details only get in teh way of the reader's imagination. They are going to envision their own favorite bar, no matter what you tell them.
Keep those details minimal, as if the narrator assumes the reader knows the place already. You'll have people congratulating you on the vivid details of place- when there aren't any!

 

[Weird Harold]

1) People entering a bar out of a fog doesn't quite work as being eerie because the fog isn't very active when it's outside and the scene is taking place inside ...

I'm having an "old people moment" over the titles, but I've got a science fiction anthology and a companion anthology of "Bar Stories" -- stories set completely in a bar or tavern -- and the weather outside is almost always a key part of the mood inside. Two of the stories have a pea-soup fog as the primary plot element; one where the bar can only be found when it's foggy and the other postulates that peas soup fogs are caused by reality reshaping itself, but only people in the Bar will notice that things have changed.

2) People appearing out of a fog is a pretty broad hint that they're not human...unless you're planning on a real twist at the end. If, instead, you start with the women already in the bar, then the reader has to wonder: "Are they the ones who aren't human...or it is the narrator?"

Probably the most famous story with that kind of twist is the Twilight Zone episode about a busload of travelers stranded in a Diner with a nutcase raving about the "aliens among us;" the short-order cook spends most of the episode debunking the nutcase but at the end is revealed as one of the Aliens. I don't remember whether it was pea-soup fog or a blinding snowstorm that stranded the bus but it was a quiet kind of weather problem that didn't affect anything inside the diner except the mood.

That Twilight episode was based on one of the bar stories in the science fiction anthology I mentioned above except it was Fog and Bar in the original short story rather than a Snowstorm(?) and a Diner.

Still, the majority of stories in the two collections DON'T make a connection between "Appearing in from a thick fog" and "non-human" The cahracters are mostly human or egalitarian to the point where "humanity" is irrelevant.

Most of the stories involving fog and/or gloomy weather use it to set a mood suitable for telling Tall Tales and Ghost Stories over a drink and/or create the feeling of "an island" where the Fog serve to set the Bar apart from the rest of the world.

For instance: man in bar, woman walks in. There's an infinity of ways of doing this. You have to feel the one that sends the right message

...

For me, that even extends down to the weather outside. A woman entering a bar on a rainy night doesn't mean the same thing as the same women entering the same bar in the same way on a warm and balmy night, or a snowy night, or a scorching night in August, or a spooky night in October.

Good points Mab.

As a fan of bar stories, I'd add that "the weather outside" affects much more than how people enter the bar; it can affect how they distribute themselves inside the bar, how they react to new customers, what they're drinking, how willing they are to leave and do something else -- i.e. the "mood" of the whole story.

FWIW, my impression is that very few "good" bar stories happen in good weather -- at a minimum, weather is used to get people into the bar or limit the cast by keeping them at home.

 

[hmmnmm]

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[3113]

I'm having an "old people moment" over the titles, but I've got a science fiction anthology and a companion anthology of "Bar Stories" -- stories set completely in a bar or tavern -- and the weather outside is almost always a key part of the mood inside.

Look, Harold, you don't have to explain this shit to me; I can give you my own extensive list of novels and short-stories in a variety of genres that feature foggy exteriors and bar-like interiors, including ones where mysterious people/beings enter in from said exteriors to said interiors. Some that work...and a lot...an awful lot that don't.

The point here is, however, that Hmmnmm tried it and, apparently, it didn't work: the girls enter the bar out of the fog and, from what I understand, the story stopped. It did not continue to write itself. Which is why this thread exists.

So, from my p.o.v., the question is, how to get past this very common road block, and it is a very common one: you introduce characters and the story stops. Now, I don't know about you, but in my experience, when that happens, and you try and try and try to make it work, and the story still won't write itself, then it's time to try a different tack--because as it is, you're sailing into the wind and going nowhere.

Which is why I offered the advice and observations I offered. Introduce the girls OUTSIDE the bar or try a storm instead of fog--or try anything else these suggestions might inspire. Why? Because these have a different energy about them--and they might get the story moving. At the very least, they'll offer the writer a fresh look at the problem and, perhaps, allow them to figure out their own solution.

And that, in the end, is all that I'm suggesting.

 

[hmmnmm]

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[Dr_Strabismus]

I love you, hmmmnmmm. I bet all your pens are chewed and you have a floor covered in crumpled up sheets of paper.

 

[hmmnmm]

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[Stella_Omega]

...A tendency to overdo details that interrupt or kill a scene that was moving along just fine...

tadaaa!

Dump those details. You don't have to name every regular, just say "the regulars were on their regular stools" and your readers will know who they are and what they're drinking.

 

[hmmnmm]

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