by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell
“You can observe a lot just by watching.” — Yogi Berra
Serendipity is a word derived from a Persian fairy tale, The Three Princes of Serendip (an ancient name for Sri Lanka). The story tells of an eminent trio making happy discoveries in their travels, through accident and observation. The English writer Horace Walpole coined the term serendipity to describe this combination of chance and mental discernment.
Recently I mentioned the first modern detective story, credited to Edgar Allen Poe, “The Murders in the Rue Morgue.” Poe was inspired by a rendition of the Serendip story by the French writer Voltaire. Poe called his story “a tale of ratiocination…wherein the extent of information obtained lies not so much in the validity of the inference as in the quality of the observation.”
In short, stuff happens, but if you keep your head about you, observe, and are ready to think anew, you can come up with gold. That applies to writing our stories, too.
As Lawrence Block, the dean of American crime fiction, put it, “You look for something, find something else, and realize that what you’ve found is more suited to your needs than what you thought you were looking for.”
Doesn’t that describe some of the best moments in your writing? I once had a wife character who was supposed to move away for a time, to get out of danger. That’s what I’d outlined. But in the heat of a dialogue scene with her husband, she flat out refused to go. From Can’t Stop Me:
“This doesn’t change anything. I want you and Max out for a while. I’ll keep in touch and—”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“No, Sam. I’m not leaving. This is my home.”
“And I’m your husband.”
“And what does that make me, your property?”
“You’re talking crazy now.”
“I’m not going, Sam.”
Turns out she was right and I was wrong, and the story was better for it. It took some adjustments to the outline, in the form of new scenes, but on I went.
A friend of mine, a #1 NYT bestselling writer, once remarked to me, “I didn’t plan on killing this character. I started writing the scene and found him dead.”
Can we ramp up serendipity as we write? I think so. Here are a few suggestions.
- Don’t just be about imposing your plans on the story to the detriment of happy surprises. Be ready to shift and move. This applies to all types of writers. A planner might resist changing the plans, while a pantser might resist going down a rabbit trail. What do you do in a situation like this? Think. Do some ratiocination. And then…
- Write first, analyze later. It is in the heat of production that diamonds are formed—a striking image, a line of dialogue, a new character. But you have to be prepared to go with the flow, to play it out and see where things lead. After you write, step back and assess. Where is this new direction taking me? Shall I keep on going?
- Write what you fear. Go where there are risks in the story. The crew of the Starship Enterprise discovered new worlds by going “where no man has gone before.” It’s often here that a deep, rich vein of story is found.
- Research. When you delve deeply into the areas you’re writing about—by reading, talking to experts, or doing something in the field—you inevitably come up with gems that will enliven your story or even change it into something other than what you had planned. And that’s not a bad thing. I once wrote a scene about a SWAT team, doing as much research and supposing as I could. Then a chance conversation with an LAPD police captain at a neighborhood meet-and-greet led to my having to revise the whole darn thing…but in ways advantageous to the novel as a whole.
- When in doubt, add a character. (Remember Raymond Chandler’s advice to bring in a guy with a gun?) Whenever I’ve come to a “thin middle” the first thing I do is add a character. A minor or secondary character who shows up, with an agenda and a backstory, is the fastest way to fight second-act drag.
The way of serendipity is open to every writer, be ye outliner or pantser, or anything in between. It’s just a matter of showing up and being aware. And the nice thing is that the more you write, the more you’ll recognize serendipitous moments when they happen. Then pounce!
Tell us about a serendipitous moment you have experienced in your writing.
“making happy discoveries in their travels,” You immediately brought to mind the great Bob Ross, painting happy little serendipitous trees, etc. The only difference is he was telling stories with paint.
And those serendipitous moments you describe are what makes writing fun. Sure, we may have an outline. But having your story, or a character take a turn you didn’t expect, or even having them say something you didn’t expect keeps things interesting.
I think that’s also part of the reason why, although I prefer to be a plotter and not a pantser, that I seem to fall somewhere in between. I don’t think I’ve ever had a plotted story go fully to plan. I’ll be curious to see if that changes at all as the years go by and I gain more writing experience.
When I’m plotting is when I do the most happy discovering. Lots of playing and improvising. Room for improvising within a scene, too, keeping the scene outcome in mind.
The point of my very detailed plotting is that when I go into a scene, I have the broad outline of who, what, where, when, and why – and often very little idea of how all the stuff I’ve gathered is going to coalesce into a scene.
The pre-decisions allow me to limit the edges and achieve a goal (and know I’ve achieved it), but I’m not hampered by a rigid story marching through its marks.
It’s sort of like getting to a country with reservations at a couple of hotels for certain nights – and a rental car and a list of tourist and not-so-tourist attractions to take in if I run out of ideas. All I know for sure is when the car is due back at the rental place – and even there how much flexibility I can pay for extra. Only the airline tickets home need to happen that way – if possible.
It’s the opposite of a guided tour. It’s how we visited the Grand Canyon and the Petrified Forest and the national parks – because you don’t know until you arrive what else might be there. And that the kids want to stay hours extra at the Exploratorium AFTER they do the obvious parts.
Because predicting the future is always fraught. And Ghirardelli had chocolate sales.
Yes, I do an Objective, Obastacles, Outcome outline of a scene, but then there’s plenty of room for the characters to work it out.
And FREEDOM for the characters to work it out – because the logistics are handled separately.
You can’t decorate the apartment in the skyscraper until it is built, and the bathroom plumbing connected.
In a series I was writing, at the beginning of the second book, a young girl came into a scene to serve drinks. That was her role: come in, serve, gone. But she would not go away and, long story short, ended up as a central character in that book, and the lynch-pin that knitted the entire series together. Quite a serendipitous moment.
I love that, Michael. I’m working on the 9th book in my Romeo series, and a minor character from the past just showed up again, and is going to be prominent in a subsequent book.
It works in real life, too.
All of my boyfriends were 6’2″ and had black hair and blue eyes.
And then one day a short blond asked me out.
We’re coming up on our 46th anniversary this summer.
Serendipity indeed! Congrats. Mrs. B and I just celebrated #43. We met at a party that Cindy almost skipped because she couldn’t find a parking spot on the street…until, as she was driving away, a car pulled out. Thank God!
The best plotters have a bit of pantser in ’em…
BK’s Bob Ross nod reminds me of how this applies to painting in watercolor – the outlines in the image or scene are there, but the colors will flow where they want…
Same holds true in music – jazz, bluegrass, and jam-bands like the Grateful Dead, Allman Brothers, Phish – the outline of the song gives openings for the solos that make each performance unique…
I like that analogy, George. The late, great Dickey Betts would agree, I do believe.
This sounds so much like my writing process. I have very little fear of the unknown in my writing. At best, I’m a “planster” but how detailed my plans are varies along the way. I did learn very early on that asking real cops how things works makes for a better book, but it can complicate the writing. In Deadly Adversaries, my consultant kept telling me “He can’t do that. There’s this pesky thing called the Constitution.” It changed my plans, but sometimes those challenges are “fun.” (I’m reminded of my yoga instructor who, when she said, “Oh, this is a fun pose” meant “challenging.”
I agree, challenges are fun. They also keep the writing brain supple and strong.
I love talking to experts, esp. for “inside stuff” that becomes a happy surprise for the readers.
Love serendipity, Jim. It happens to me daily. A chance reading of an article unrelated to the scene I’m writing and up pops a perfect detail that brings the scene to life.
As Michael related, in the first book in my series, a “walk-on” character arrived in the last quarter of the book and refused to leave. He’s now the indispensable male lead. In the third book in the series, I was hopelessly stalled in the saggy middle when a friend suggested, “Why don’t you kill off the villain?” The story took off like a shot.
An unexpected conversation on an airport shuttle bus remains one of the most memorable meetings of my life. https://www.debbieburkewriter.com/chance-meeting-with-history/
What a beautiful story.
It was my privilege, Patricia.
Debbie, I loved that story. And how fitting that you shared it on Yom HaShoah, Holocaust Remembrance Day.
Thank you, Michelle.
Great serendipity, Debbie. Life is full of it if we just learn to be open.
A beautiful story, Debbie. And one that is very important in light of current events!
Thanks, Steve.
Beautiful story, Debbie, and how serendipitous that you shared it today, Yom HaShoah.
Serendipity was definitely at work, Kay.
Love that story, Debbie…especially meaningful in these days.
Just last night an item on the local news station sent my story down a path. And that’s what’s fun.
Law and Order made its living watching the news!
Yesterday I revisited a dialog between me and my main character. The origin of those questions escapes me at the moment, but it might have been Don Maass, might have been JSB. Forgive me, Jim, if I got it wrong.
I titled the document “A Talk With XXX” and stuffed it in my “Sketches” folder with a kazillion other things.
It goes like this: 1. How do you feel about the way I’ve portrayed you? 2. What am I getting wrong about you? 3. What do you want to do that I’m not letting you do? 4. What do you dread seeing yourself do on the page? And so forth. Once you’re in the writing groove, you can answer candidly if you dare.
I put the answers together early on in my outlining process. The answer to the second question was a turnabout I had forgotten, and in light of what’s developed since, it gave me the direction I needed now.
I think the key to serendipity is surprise, or a visit from the unknown, from an unexpected corner. It comes fresh and calls for thoughtful consideration.
Dan, those questions sound Maassian to me, although I do something similar in my “white hot” document phase, interviewing a character, and playing games such as “Chair Through the Window,” i.e., what would make your character throw a chair out the window? Even if it’s a little ol’ nun.
Such as Sister J? Totally credible. Through the window, onto the 405, into the cargo bed of a speeding pickup being chased by the CHP.
Right!
Great post to get us thinking this morning – looking for unexpected gold.
“The English writer Horace Walpole coined the term serendipity to describe this combination of chance and mental discernment.”
I like to think that experimentation is a way of stirring the pot, looking for any serendipity that might rise to the top.
Thanks, Jim.
Steve, you remind me that Holmes was a great experimenter…and noticer!
Great post, as always, JSB!
I have a WIP that, one day, I decided to try a different opening. The first one just wasn’t working for me. The biggest problem with it was . . . it was all backstory! Ack! (Love that word!)
So, I tried a new first line, and then it was off to the races. The first line that popped out of my head and on to the page was from a Clint Eastwood movie-Absolute Power. Serendipity.
“What have you done, Father?”
Worked perfectly, the opening scene was much better, and it’ll be easy-peasy to dribble in the backstory as I go. 🙂
Yes! I often tell a learning writer to chuck Ch. 1 and begin with Ch. 2. Works wonders most of the time.
Act first, explain later!
Love serendipity. Brainstorming and plotting are when it mostly happens for me, too. I also often don’t map out scenes beyond a beat of action or so beforehand, so when I reach them, I can surprise myself.
Adding a character: I did that with A Shush Before Dying A quiet, furtive older woman came to me after my first, trial draft. She was a regular library patron who turned out to somehow be connected to the mystery of an old house that Meg was investigating, the house that the wealthy murder victim wanted. It deepened the mystery and enriched the story tremendously.
Dale, one thing I like to do when plotting is take a stack of cards to a coffeehouse and start writing ideas for “killer scenes,” not knowing how or even if they’ll connect. Then later look for patterns. That’s really fun.
Serendipity. I love that word, but I never knew the origin until today.
I’ve had several serendipitous moments in writing. I was writing the climactic scene in my first novel, The Watch on the Fencepost where a uniformed female police officer enters an office. I wasn’t quite sure what would happen in the scene, but as I described the woman as dark, heavyset, wearing a gun on her hip, I suddenly realized that wasn’t a policewoman at all. It was … [sorry, don’t want to spoil the ending.] The amazing thing was it set up a perfect ending and fit in with the story in a way I never thought of. Serendipity.
Whenever a reader tells me how much they liked that scene and that they never saw it coming. I reply, “Neither did I.”
The twist neither you nor the reader sees coming is the best of all, isn’t it?
Love when this happens! It can rock you at times, too. Once, during a heated interrogation, my antihero said, “Who do you work for?” when it should have been obvious. I was so stunned, I had to walk away. Who does he really work for? The answer changed the trajectory of my meticulously plotted ending. What a great twist, though. I never saw it coming. LOL
Yes! Love that, Sue.