Writer’s block.

It’s not that I don’t have ideas, because Lord knows I have ideas. A plethora of squirming ideas wriggling about, waiting to be plucked and put to the hook, bait for a story to swallow it whole. (Gruesome but truthful.) The problem is their lack of substance. I might have a few scribbles in my notebook after an hour of brainstorming and they all mostly come down to a story about a so-and-so, who faces so-and-so challenge to reach so-and-so goal. It’s formulaic, stale, overdone, and about as gripping as watching a dying earthworm crawl along the sidewalk. I want to cultivate my ideas because they’re precious to me, but in truth, so few of them move beyond that first, stagnant concept.

A professor of mine once said that when you are writing, you should jot down the first four ideas that come into your head for your story. And then you should immediately cross out the first three, because they’re clichéd, hackneyed crap. What you want to create is beyond the surface. You don’t want a “concept,” you want a high concept. Something universal but fresh, an interesting twist, a compelling new confection. Which some might argue is difficult, given that many scholars, critics etc. have decided there are only seven story ideas in the whole world.

Except that there are fourteen. Depending on whose side you’re on…

Here are the seven (via the Internet Public Library):

1. [wo]man vs. nature
2. [wo]man vs. man
3. [wo]man vs. the environment
4. [wo]man vs. machines/technology
5. [wo]man vs. the supernatural
6. [wo]man vs. self
7. [wo]man vs. god/religion

Or, alternatively, here are the seven (as found on suite101):

1. the quest
2. voyage and return
3. rebirth
4. comedy
5. tragedy
6. overcoming the monster
7. rags to riches

I’ve found that melding the two is best: From the first list you choose your theme, from the second list you decide your plot. And when you combine both together, you create your high concept.

Examples:
-    During the Great Depression, a young man leaves school and becomes a member of a traveling circus, falls in love with a star performer, and takes care of an eccentric elephant. (Sara Gruen’s Water for Elephants)
o    Theme: man vs. the environment
o    Plot: voyage and return

-    A family narrative of sex, love and secrets as recounted by the youngest generation’s child, an intersexual who metamorphoses over the course of the story from woman into man. (Jeffrey Eugenides’ Middlesex)
o    Theme: [wo]man vs. self
o    Plot: rebirth

-    When a teenage girl is displaced to a dreary town, she becomes fascinated with a local boy who seems almost supernatural, only to discover that she is falling in love with a vampire and putting both of their lives at stake. No pun intended. (Stephenie Meyers’ Twilight).
o    Theme: woman vs. the supernatural
o    Plot: overcoming the monster

Brenda Janowitz’s article in PW toys with the notion of the “high concept” idea—stories like Good versus evil, man plays God, New York fashion—and its significance in today’s market. Janowitz notes, “It’s hard to describe what exactly makes an idea high concept—it’s almost the opposite of what it sounds. But simply put, it’s an idea that is easily explainable and can be sold in one sentence.” But as her agent friend said, it may seem simple, but if you don’t have a high concept, you won’t get your book published. But publishers don’t want a formula, they want chemistry. And though I’m not a science professor, I can offer this thought: high concepts may hold untold depth, but they all begin with simple formulas that, through your own creativity and inspiration, become said chemistry. Your idea + theme + plot = your story.

Brenda’s final conclusion is to keep writing, and the high concept will emerge.

But remember, scratch out the first few ideas.

Cases before the court:

Bring v. Take
Like v. Such as
Over v. More than/Greater than

Big Bad Book Blog delivered the opinion. Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary occasionally dissenting. Chicago Manual of Style occasionally dissenting.

Common usage has invaded the domain of correct usage. The two parties constantly battle for dominance in the written language. Over time, correct usage eventually accepts certain elements of common usage, blurring the lines for writers and editors. And of course, multiple parties take sides in the dispute—editors, linguists, publishers of dictionaries and style manuals. In the end, the true victim is the writer. How is the writer to determine when common usage is acceptable?

It is the opinion of this blog that it is always better to be more specific than less specific when writing. That rule, as well as solid knowledge of the exact meanings of words, should guide writers and editors. Of course, there are always exceptions, instances when common usage, though not correct, is more appropriate. Dialogue is a good example, as is use of slang to make a point or set a tone. And since the tone and writing style of most blogs is very casual, you will no doubt find some examples of common usage here, too.

Keep in mind that it is possible to be correct and specific without sounding pompous or stiff. Following are a few cases that can easily be decided by the writer and will generally not change the tone of a sentence.

bring v. take: People often use bring when take is more correct. For example, “Don’t forget to bring the book with you on your trip.” The difference between bring and take is all about location. When you are asking someone to deliver something to your current location, you should use bring: “Please bring me a glass of water.” When you are asking someone to carry something to another location, you should use take: “Don’t forget to take the book with you on your trip.”

like v. such as: Like is used in so many different ways in our language; it’s not surprising that it rapidly takes the place of a variety of other words and phrases. However, it is important to keep in mind that like really means similar to. In writing, it’s best to use like when similar to could be used instead. If a better replacement phrase is such as, use such as. For example, “Sheila enjoys period films, such as Sense and Sensibility” (meaning Sheila enjoys Sense and Sensibility and other period films), and “I often go to family dining restaurants like Denny’s, but I never go to Denny’s.” When speaking, you might say “films like Sense and Sensibility” (meaning Sheila enjoys films similar to Sense and Sensibility, but not Sense and Sensibility) and it wouldn’t sound strange or incorrect. But when you write, you should try to be more specific.

over v. more than/greater than: This is a classic example of being specific and a classic example of common usage becoming correct usage. Merriam Webster’s and Chicago Manual of Style will tell you that it is just fine to write, “He makes over thirty thousand dollars a year.” But don’t be surprised if your editor changes that “over” to “more than.” For a long time, it was not correct to use over (a term for direction or placement) when you meant more than or greater than, and more than is still more specific.

In the case of Common v. Correct, the Big Bad Book Blog awards the defendant the point of specificity, but acknowledges the plaintiff’s right to assert itself within the language. It is not our intent to deny the natural evolution of acceptable usage. However, it is best for a writer to err on the side of specificity.

It is so ordered.