One of the pros of being an unashamed film buff is getting to appreciate Tony Zhou’s YouTube series Every Frame a Painting (cons = forever alone, no friends, etc.). The other day, whilst sipping high-altitude pressed coffee and having pretentious thoughts about modern sculpture, I came across a brilliant how-to on structuring a video essay based on the 1973 film F for Fake by Orson Welles. Many of the lessons, I believe, can be applied to writing fiction.

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Zhou references an older video he made in which he presented viewers with a list that could come in any order. This happens, and then this happens, and then this happens. “That’s what makes it boring,” he says. I’m reminded of Dave Barry’s blunt advice for writers: “Don’t be boring.” You know something? This blog post is boring. Here’s a picture of Van Gogh’s Starry Night recreated using nothing but bacon to make things better:

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As a side note, I once gave a student extra credit on a final exam because he managed – against all odds – to make every essay question about bacon. Anyways, the first thought I had after watching Zhou’s video was “Crap, there’s another thing about writing I never learned. Curse you Mr. Lyons!” (ah, blaming failure on others, one of my favorite pastimes). The second thought I had was about a novel manuscript I wrote a number of years ago that never got published. I looked back on it and, sure enough, large sections of the text present a laundry list of scenes that could be freely rearranged. There was no cause and effect. The part of Zhou’s video I find most relevant comes from a workshop led by South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

We found out this really simple rule that maybe you guys have heard before. But it took us a long time to learn it… What should happen between every beat that you’ve written down is the word “therefore” or “but.” So what I’m saying is you come up with and idea and it’s like “this happens, and therefore this happens, but this happens, therefore this happens.”

I recently discovered a wonderful literary hidden gem called Time Commences in Xibalbá by the Guatemalan writer Luis de Lión. It’s a challenging read, with a translator’s preface and afterword that, in combination, are almost longer than the novel itself. A troubled man returns to his childhood village in remote Guatemala. He steals a life-sized wooden figurine of the Virgin Mary from the church and… proceeds to make love to it. Really. In the close-knit, conservative village, all hell breaks loose (a phrase you should NEVER use in your stories). The series of events that follows could not happen in any order. The statue is missing from the church. Therefore, panic erupts. Therefore, a search committee is formed, pitchforks and all, to comb the village. But, they don’t find it at first. Therefore, fingers are pointed. Therefore, the community begins to fall apart. But, they find it eventually. You get the idea.

Looking back at some of my work that has gotten published, I notice that I’d unwittingly followed the cause/effect order of scenes. My story in Worker’s Write! tells of three contractors who show up to work only to learn that one will be fired at the end of the day. Therefore, two contractors decide to work together to hurt the third. But the main character starts having second thoughts. But his accomplice carries through with the plan anyways. Therefore… etc. etc. Okay, that uses up my “shameless self promotion” quota of the day.

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[I was going to post a still from Anchorman here with a quote about self-promotion, but – true story – I once ran a beer-related blog with over a thousand readers each week and had the whole thing shut down over copyright because I posted a Steve Carell meme. *shakes fist at sky*]

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I’ll be pitching a manuscript to agents at the Writer’s Digest Conference in New York City later this week. During the revision process (TEN drafts!!), I hunted down scene sequences that followed the dreaded “and then” list format – that is, they could come in any order – and I reworked them to have a clear cause and effect pattern. (Hi future agent! See, I know fancy literary stuff. Also, I will give you bacon).