Before I start the post, I want to let you know that a poem of mine for adults (pretty sad, about the death of my mother) is in a collection of short poems called Bigger Than They Appear, which just came out. This isn’t a book for kids. So far I’ve read only a few of the poems, so I can’t vouch for language or subject matter for young readers. But if you’re in high school and above and interested, here’s the link to the publisher’s site where you can get a copy: http://www.accents-publishing.com/biggerthantheyappear.html. My poem is called “This Is Just to Say.” For those of you who recognize the title, my poem is based on  a poem with the same name by William Carlos Williams.

On July 25th, 2011, Farina wrote, I mostly write fan fiction, usually one-shots, but today I looked back at my work and realized most of it was tragedy. I almost always follow the same pattern (and even sometimes with the same characters!) one side of the love interest gets hurt/dies. Funeral/waiting for help/backup scene or touching scene about how they can’t stop and abandon the mission. Surviving character goes into deep depression and seclusion, if other one survives, (it’s usually the male that goes into the depression) looks like she has it all together but is also depressed, 1) Committing suicide, 2) Ends with them crying/sighing/just sitting there sadly. How can I break away from tragedy and violence? (because while I’m too young to use sexual themes in my stories, I do use an awful lot of violence) Because I enjoy, however morbid it seems, a character’s hopelessness, depression, and loneliness, however, not many, if any, readers enjoy that sort of thing. I also don’t have a problem with death at all (though some of my stories have made me cry) and enjoy writing death scenes (I have one for every character I’ve written about) and love writing about topics like insanity and death. But when I try to write funny, happy stories, I reread them and I realize there is a definite ‘Fake Smiling’ air to them. How can I write happier stories without seemingly trying too hard?
This may be tragic (joke) to say, but what you’re writing right now may be what you need to write right now. In a year or two you may be effortlessly heading in another direction.

And in defense of what you’re doing, it’s excellent to be thorough. If you go deep into a character’s unhappiness, if you make it believable and specific to that particular character, you’ve achieved a lot. If your suffering character is sympathetic, your reader will be with him. She may cry, but she’ll be engaged.

Still, if you’re determined to change, here are a few ideas:

Push on after your ending. If your hero Lance is depressed but hasn’t committed suicide, write the arc of his recovery. You can make this slow and detail all his slumps back into misery, but the trajectory should be upward toward a better life. You can end then on a hopeful note. If he has killed himself, continue on to his survivor, his sister Leslie, for instance, who has to come to terms with the loss and find her way to happier days.

Get interested in minor characters who aren’t miserable. Let Lance be despondent. Go to town on him. But also develop some other characters who are cheerier. Think of people you know and how they don’t let adversity destroy them. Even think of yourself, merrily writing wretchedness.

Impose a quota on misery. Allow yourself one episode of doldrums per story, which can be at the beginning, middle, or end. The rest has to be something else, which doesn’t have to be jumping-up-and-down joy  – can be action, anger, intellectual reasoning, dialogue, relationship-building, whatever.

Remove the reason for the depression. Don’t kill off the love interest. Have the two quarrel instead, or have the love interest be captured, so the hero has to act not mope.

Go even further and make it funny. Have Lance meet Lily, an equally depressed person, possibly a new love interest. Let them get so enchanted with their sadness that they create new causes for it. Have them slash their stuffed animals, or, if you go over to the dark side, do worse. If you push it enough, it will be funny, and your readers will be laughing and wanting more.

Explore other genres. The alternative to tragedy isn’t necessarily a smiley face or a happy-ending love story. There are thrillers and mysteries and historical novels and adventure stories. Try one of these.

Often, the problem with the smiley face, in my opinion, is sentimentality, and sentimentality often comes from generalizing, from statements like, “I knew she would always be there for me,” or “I realized how special we both were.” Detail takes out the sentimentality. What do you do when you’re happy? What does your best friend do? Maybe you hug someone, but maybe you get uncomfortable and make fun of the feeling because it’s too good. Maybe your best friend gets quiet because she has to absorb the news, because joy is new to her. Maybe your cousin keeps his happiness secret because he’s afraid people will be jealous. Lance can do any of these too, if he emerges from his funk, and the reader will understand if she knows Lance. None of these will feel fake because they’re rooted in detail and character.

Also, it usually doesn’t work to dwell on happiness. I bet we’ve all experienced this in books we’ve read and loved: we adore the characters and follow them through vicissitudes of every stripe. Finally they win out, and two pages later the book ends. Unfair! Four hundred pages of trial and struggle, two of triumph. We want more! We want to wallow in their success. We want to revel with them. But that part quickly falls flat. So even if you want to write happier, you’ll still probably need to keep the joy short.

A few prompts:

∙    Pick the happy ending of a book you adore, one that made you want to bathe in your beloved characters’ joy. Indulge yourself and write a final chapter that is solid good times, good feelings. Put in action, a real scene, but no suspense, no worry. I suspect this may be hard, but I think it can be done. Maybe it will even improve the actual book. Try it.

∙    Lance’s friends and family plan an intervention to blast him out of his depression. The intervention doesn’t merely have to be a meeting; it can be anything. Have the other characters reveal themselves in the ways they use to reach Lance, in the appeals they make. If you’re not Farina, you can have them fail or succeed, whatever you like. But if you’re Farina, Lance has to cheer up. And whoever you are, avoid the fake smiley face feeling if Lance does come out of his doldrums.

∙    Departing from this prompt and building on Jenna Royal’s question from the end of last week, write a story in which one of the main characters never makes an appearance. She is there only in the thoughts and feelings and dialogue of other characters. Give her depth and individuality. Make the reader know her as well as the characters who are present.

Have fun, and save what you write!