Showing posts with label Lester Dent. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lester Dent. Show all posts

Sunday, December 19, 2021

Doc Savage: Fortress of Solitude

Doc Savage’s secrets revealed at last! And by a villainous mind of insatiable greed!


A new Rasputin, called John Sunlight, escapes from a Siberian prison camp in an icebreaker, only to run aground next to the big blue dome of Doc Savage’s Fortress of Solitude. After a brazen theft, Sunlight is selling the weapons Doc Savage has locked away from the rest of the world. Now Doc Savage and his Iron Crew must stop Sunlight and retrieve these weapons before chaos is unleashed on the world. But John Sunlight is that rare individual, a man to match the Man of Bronze himself.

In the “Fortress of Solitude”, Lester Dent gives a peak into one of Doc Savage’s most enduring mysteries, the shrouded Arctic refuge only known as the Fortress of Solitude. In doing so, he gave Doc Savage his only enduring nemesis, and the only villain to ever return to plague the Man of Bronze: John Sunlight. Sunlight would return in “The Devil Genghis”, and the Fortress of Solitude would enter that great mélange of comics and pulp legosity only to reappear under new management of another Superman, a Man of Steel, not Bronze. 

Like the adventures of a man named Buckaroo, those borrowings from Doc Savage are in the future. Today’s borrowing, of a weapon that reduces men to windblown ash, is more pressing upon the Man of Bronze. For while the murder of a Soviet diplomat may start as nothing more than a Golden Age mystery for Doc Savage to puzzle out, Sunlight has set his own crew against the Man in Bronze. And while Savage is the leader of a crew of men each worthy of their own pulp series, the fearsome Sunlight drives his own followers to similar acts of bravery. Might the key to breaking this stalemate rest with two strongwomen searching for their kidnapped sister?

“I salute again…the man who has inherited the qualities of the Erinyes, the Eumenides, of Titan, and of Friar Rush, with a touch of Dracula and Frankenstein.

The star of “The Fortress of Solitude” is John Sunlight, a mentalist menace with the strength to put the terror behind his words. He is a dark reflection of Doc Savage, a charismatic Renaissance Man of Science, a sinister Shadow with agents throughout the world. Dent wastes no time establishing Sunlight as an unapologetic menace shrouded in an aura of fear that compels obedience…or else. 

“John Sunlight,” the bronze man said, “is probably as complete a fiend as we ever met.”

And unrepentantly so, which is refreshing in this era that so desperately tries to scrub the agency out of evil. But such a man as Sunlight is a just a puzzle to Doc Savage, to be put together and rearranged and reformed in Savage’s Crime College until he is no longer a threat to his fellow man. Sunlight’s breach of Doc Savage’s privacy, by invading the sanctum of the Fortress of Solitude, however, rocks the Man of Bronze on his heels. 

For once, this is not just the misdirection common to the hero pulps, although Doc Savage uses the illusionist’s mainstay with all the skill of his fellow hero, The Shadow. But Doc Savage quickly recovers, setting his powers of observation and planning against Sunlight, until the mysterious Rasputin who once force Savage to react to his ever move is now reacting to Doc’s decoys. The effect is that of a chess match, with Sunlight unaware of the net tightening around him, yet capable enough to foil particular plays made by Savage’s Iron Crew. The intrigues ratchet towards Doc Savage’s inevitable victory–

–and then Sunlight slips away, with plunder from the laboratory and museum inside the Fortress of Solitude. A Pandora’s Box has been opened, leaving Doc Savage and company with a rare defeat and an urgent search for such scientific weapons of war as the world was never supposed to see.

Doc’s boys are a bit of an afterthought. “Fortress of Solitude” is already crowded enough between Doc Savage and John Sunlight, and the dense novelette cannot spare the time for all five of the Iron Crew to take places in the spotlight. Even the banter between Monk Mayfair and Ham Brooks is much subdued. Because of this, “Fortress of Solitude” may not be the best entry point into the series, at least for the character dynamics. Those, however we will explore next week, in the context of one of Doc Savage’s many copycats.

While “Fortress of Solitude” does not shrink away from the two-fisted action common to pulp-era stories, the focus is on mood, disguise, and intrigue. Almost as though Dent was echoing the works of fellow Street & Smith writer Walter Gibson. And while earlier adventures of Doc Savage have a quaint antiquity in speech and style, this one is more timeless and contemporary. One can very well imagine Clive Cussler’s heirs writing something similar today, although not as terse. But Cussler is not the only copycat, and the idea of a team of rockstar super-scientists keeps simmering in the public’s imagination…

Monday, December 13, 2021

Lester Dent's Checklist

Doc Savage and adventure pulp writer Lester Dent is known for his fiction formulas. Whether waving those character identification tags or the much beloved Master Formula for plots, Dent's advice has helped many writers in the seventy years since he shared it with the writing world.

But these formulas are not the whole of Dent's advice. For, hidden inside the "Introduction to Fortress of Solititude," penned by Will Murray for Anthony Tollin's recent Doc Savage reprint, is another of Dent's formulas, paraphrased in an interview.

But not an interview of Lester Dent. This one was with Mort Weisinger, a friend of Dent's who helped him plot at least one Doc Savage story. Weisinger would later help create the science fiction pulp hero Captain Future and go on to edit Superman for DC. Of Dent, Weisinger would say:

"[He] had a formula he used for every one of his novels. He claimed you should always have an exotic locale, and the mystery should be: who did it? And the motivation: why did he do it? And a unique murder method: how did he do it? And in every book, a unique treasure."

As Dent would put it in his Master Formula, "The idea is to avoid monotony."

Those familiar with the Master Formula may recognize this as a succinct summation of the introduction, a section often passed over in the rush to get to the structure outlined within the formula. But Weisinger presents it a checklist form.

Here is Lester Dent's Checklist.

Every pulp story should have:

  1. An exotic local
  2. A mystery (who did it?)
  3. A motivation (why did he do it?)
  4. A unique method (how did he do it?)
  5. A unique treasure.
May this advice serve writers as well as Dent's Master Formula.


Tuesday, October 3, 2017

Wave Those Tags, by Lester Dent

(This article was first published in 1940's Writer's Yearbook.)

Wave Those Tags
by Lester Dent

This, again, is my personal opinion...

Here is my formula for creating characters to put in fiction yarns.

Now...before launching out on this character blueprint, it might be a good idea to borrow some sale-psychology and build up the thing a little. To show, in other words, that it'll work--that it is being used successfully.

Though there seems to be some wariness about admitting it, most writers apparently work to formula to a great extent. Most pulp writers have devised a sure-fire master plot, and have been writing and selling the same yarn over and over for years. A surprising number of the slick authors seem to do the same thing. And there appears to be an inclination among editors to have their own idea of a formula for a yarn, and not buy anything that doesn't fit. They call this their groove, or the slant.

So probably the first thing to do is to try to show that stuff written to formula will sell.

In order to write a story, it seems best to start with a plot and characters. Yarns can be written without either one, but may be a little difficult to make a living selling them.

Whether the plot comes first, or the characters, seems to be a subject for argument. One method is to build the character, then dope out a plot in which they strut their stuff in their respective manners. The other system is to construct the plot, then manufacture characters to fit it. Possibly and argument can be avoided by saying: start out the way that seems most convenient. Professional writers make both systems work. Most apparently mix the two systems.

Possibly the initial step in creating a character should be:

FIND A NAME

It is very doubtful if the name is the most important step in creating a character--but it does seem to be the natural first thing to do.

Names are convenient as handles. But it helps if the characterizing doesn't stop with merely finding a name. One of the loudest squawks from editors is that so many characters are just names being dragged through yarns.

Making the name of the character different from that of any other actor in the story is usually a good idea. Should there be Morgans, Mermans, and Murtons in the yarn, somebody may be inclined to become confused.

It may also be nice to have the name sort of express the nature of the character--convey some suggestion as to his manner, appearance, nationality, occupation, or something. This gag appears to be quite widely used.

Examples: Dashell Hammett used a detective character named Spade, a hard digging instrument quite in keeping with the name. Another writer of whodunits, Rex Stout, makes use of predatory animal as a name source--Nero Wolfe and Tecumseh Fox being two instances. A further analytical dissection of these last two names might lead to surmise that, in the case of Nero Wolfe, the name Nero was used because it conveys the idea of a guy is inclined to fiddle while Rome burns, which the fiction character at times apparently, although never actually, does. The name Nero might also have certain inherent leonine qualities.

The Tecumseh Fox name might be analyzed as implying a man who was as sturdy and inscrutable as the old Indian chief, externally, while actually being as sly as a fox. Erle Stanley Gardner had had great success with a character named Perry Mason, although here an analysis might approach conjecture. A mason is a builder, and the word parry means to fend off; which is the way the character works--fending off numerous enemies while building his cases. (Expert Mind Reading, Park Central Hotel. One Flight Up. Ask for Lester. Advt.)

If heroes have manly names, it might help.

Taking a thesaurus and looking up words with strong, manly meanings, then improvising upon them, is a trick worth trying.

In the pulps, this approach to name-making often is obvious. Pulp hacks are guilty of characters with such names as Click Rush and Mace and Lash.

Names of flowers and pretty things are frequently used for the beautiful young heroine in the yarn. The thesaurus could be consulted for these, too.

A reliable old gag for getting names of foreign characters is to open an atlas, look at the map of his native country, and pick out a town, river, mountain or anything that has the flavor, and use that.

Villains may be made to sound like rascals by using harsh, unpleasant names. Example: Didn't Hammett use a villain named Gutman?

A good hissy, snaky sounding name has helped to make a villain.

Telephone books can be a source of names, or of confusion.

The gag of using expressive names, while a much-used one, might possibly be overdone. The comic strips make use of it to an extreme degree, but editors of fiction magazine may prefer it tamed down a little, made more subtle.

Now...here is the next move in creating a character:

FIND AN EXTERNAL TAG

This is probably the most important step.

"Tag" seems to be the term generally used. It means that the character is next equipped with something that the reader can readily recognize each time the actor appears on scene.

A simple example of an external tag, for purposes of illustration, might be the one-legged old rascal in Treasure Island. The wooden leg is the thing that is remembered, hence it can be considered the tag.

External tags are peculiarities of appearance, manner, voice, clothing, hobby, etc. Incidentally, it might be wise to neglect wooden legs, because editors have a horror of cripples in yarns. This taboo against cripples is worth remembering, because it seems to be iron-clad.

Tagging is reliable stuff, apparently, judging by how much it is used in fiction, plays, radio, movies, books. The motion pictures usually apply a very obvious form of external tag to one or more characters. A supporting player in a film who goes around trying to do something--work a magic trick (aw, come on; pick a card) for instance--throughout the picture is an example of such a tag.

If the character is a minor one in the story, it seems possible to hang on a very obvious, even numerous tag.

If the character is in the lead--be careful.

Don't make the tag too goofy, although the manner handling may have a great deal to do with whether the tag makes the character seem silly or not. But make it intriguing enough to be what it is supposed to be--a label.

As a further example of varyingly bizarre tags which are made credible, it might be convenient to return to Rex Stout and his Nero Wolf character. The character is a tremendously fat man--which is a not-so-zany tag. But Wolfe also raises orchids, and will not be disturbed by absolutely anything when tending them. He drink prodigious amounts of beer, which must be exactly right as to temperature. He has a ridiculous horror of any moving vehicles. He is a nut on food...which, incidentally, is not the full list of tags pasted on this character, but the job is done entertainingly. The moment Wolfe comes onto a scene, one of the tags is waved like a flag, so that there is no doubt who has appeared.

The last statement is the idea.

Wave the tag. It is supposed to be an unmistakable label by which the reader can recognize the character instantly.

Frederick Nebel, in a series of good pulp yarns he once did for Black Mask, used a minor character, a cop, who ambled through the yarns devoting his time to snitching things to eat, and it was entertaining. After stepping into the slick magazines--which he did so quite successfully--Nebel refined the tagging devices somewhat. For example, in a recent short, he used a grandmother who devoted herself assiduously to eavesdropping, the eavesdropping being an obvious character tag.

If this tag can be used in the plot of the yarn, so much the better. The best yarns are those in which there is no dead wood, so if the tag pasted on a character should happen to be the fact that he is an amateur camera fan, it might help a great deal id the fact can be made use of in the yarn--possibly the knowledge of photographic chemistry enable him to recognize a poisonous chemical which has been used for the murder method, and thus thwart the villain.

In Doc Savage Magazine, a pulp, this external tagging has been utilized freely. One of the characters is always dressed in the height of sartorial perfection, the fancy clothes being his tag.. Another character has one of his tags following around after him; it's a pet pig. A third uses words of the most ungodly length, jawbreakers nobody can understand, at the slightest excuse. And Doc himself has been labelled freely with typical hero tags--great size, bronzed skin, compelling flake-gold eyes, quiet manner, amazing strength, fabulous knowledge of various subjects.

The variety of available tags seems to be legion. One of the characters can hate something intensely and spend his spare time grumbling about it. Or he may have a pet peeve on at another character in the story and start a squabble at every slight opportunity.

Now...how to dig up these external tags? This is more difficult than finding a name. Unfortunately, there is no thesaurus of character tags. Some professional writers, in order to simplify the problem, assemble tags as they come across them and file them away on indexed cards. Biographies of famous persons can be used as source material for character tags. Research yields dividends.

Perhaps there is no better way of solving the problem except to sit in front of the typewriter and write down different possibilities until one happens along and clicks.

It may prove wise to give some thought to the character tag before deciding definitely to use it...That is, can it be used conveniently in the story? It's embarrassing to think up a swell, intriguing tag, then to find out that the thing will not fit in at all with the plot or the action of the story.

Acquiring the habit of looking for character labels when reading published yarns may be a help. The name writers, the ones who appear issue after issue in the pulps and the slicks, appear to be the ones who use the most character tags. Why, then, shouldn't you?

Often more than one tag is hung on a character. There seems to be no rule against it.

But for simplicity of handling, it might prove more feasible to devise one main tag, and wave that one like a flag whenever the character moves on the scene. Then the other tags can be subordinated, to be brought out later and used whenever convenient.

In summary: The tag is simply something that identifies the character throughout the story. If, for instance, it should be decided to give Clancy, the cop, some foot trouble for his tag, it might start out by having him getting a new pair of shoes near the opening of the yarn, a special pair of shoes which he knows will relieve his feet. On Clancy's next appearance, he has the shoes on, and they're wonderful. Next appearance, the shoes aren't wonderful, and they hurt like hell. Then he takes them off. Finally he winds up carrying them. And possibly in the climax he uses one of them to bean the villain. God knows how many times that one has been used, with slight variations.

Now the next step in making a character:

FIND THE RAISON D'ETRE

This seems to be a tougher one. But it's still important.

The something inside the character isn't solid and readily grasped, as are the external tags. Abstract is probably the word to use. So an attempt to explain what goes inside may do one of three things--fail to explain anything, ball it all up, or sound asinine.

Another approach to the problem can be made by going back and thinking about the character starting at birth and following right through, so as to get the feeling of knowing just how the character happened to be a certain kind of person.

In the pulps, seems this doesn't have to be very subtle. The hero's sister is killed by crooks, and so he turns detective and is ever after the implacable enemy of crooks. Slight variation of this old one are run ragged in the pulps, and in a slightly refined state, again run ragged in the slicks.

The whole idea is to dope out some reason for the character carrying the external tag or tags which had been previously devised. In the pulps, the reason can be simple: Clancy, the cop, has walked a beat so long he's got flat feet, and therefore foot trouble--and because he's walked the beat so long, he has a consuming ambition to get in the detective bureau and show up these young school-trained cops who lack the Clancy experience. This ambition is what drives Clancy to do the things he does in the yarn. Now and then somebody even dresses this one up and sells it to the slicks.

What is inside the character, his raison d'etre, seems to be highly vital. It should tie in with the motivation of the story, help furnish the reasons for things happening.

The higher the quality of the story, the more important what is inside the character, that is, what motivated him.

And the last step:

MAKE USE OF CHARACTERIZATION TRICKS IN WRITING THE STORY

Wave the tags.

It helps to introduce the hero very early--in the first paragraph, usually--and have him strut his stuff, because first impressions are the strongest. This is just about the No. 1 writing rule in the pulps.

A hero may be built up by having the other characters refer to him in terms of admiration or awe. The pitfall here seems to be that the references can be made over-dramatic to the extent that the device may strike somebody as obvious and silly. Villains may be built as villains in the same fashion, by having other characters mention their dastardly nature, their previous evil deeds.

Have the hero behave like a hero when faced by trouble. Hero should stay human, though. He can get as scared as the next guy, but his courage will carry him through.

Minor characters can also be built by having the other actors refer to them, either to their external tag, or to the kind of stuff inside them.

Often quite a build-up can be given a character before he or she even makes a personal appearance in the story. This device is difficult to employ successfully in shorts, but it is often used in longer pieces.

It is easy to overlook the simplest must of all, that of having the actors keep in character. The hero can hardly go around kicking dogs and making nasty cracks to people weaker than himself. If he makes a nasty remark to a weak and helpless person, he's a cad as far as the reader is concerned. If he stands up to the big, mean boss and makes nasty cracks, that is different.

And it goes without saying that the villain should conduct himself in a thoroughly villainous fashion. There are black villains and half-likable villains. The black villains never do or say anything pleasant. The half-likable cads may be pretty good guys, but just weak. The slicks seem to prefer this type of villain, but the pulps want 'em black.

It does not seem to be a good idea to have the villain become too melodramatic in his villainy. If his badness can be spread out, if he can be kept consistently bad, the same effect many be achieved without the chance of somebody bursting out laughing.

There are many tricks for getting character effects, but probably the best way of securing them is to wade through published material, purloin what seems good, and adapt the idea a little.

Always remembering: WAVE THAT TAG.

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

The 2000 Word Master Formula

Lester Dent's Master Formula has been making its way around the pulp and superversive corners of the internet. And, like any storytelling technique, it has undergone its share of criticism. While most focused on how it might be used for longer works, Tom Simon rightly pointed out that there isn't enough room in a 3,000 word short story to get all the twists and confrontations in. Since most short stories have word counts of less that Lester Dent's proposed 6,000 words, Mr. Simon's criticism must be addressed by those who would attempt to use Dent's structure. Fortunately, Manly Wade Wellman's short story "Up Under The Roof" shows one way to use the formula: eliminate the middle twists.

Therefore, for quick works of 1,500-2,000 words, I propose this version of Lester Dent's structure, using his own words:
1–First line, or as near thereto as possible, introduce the hero and swat him with a fistful of trouble. Hint at a mystery, a menace or a problem to be solved–something the hero has to cope with. 
2–The hero pitches in to cope with his fistful of trouble. (He tries to fathom the mystery, defeat the menace, or solve the problem.) 
3–Get the hero almost buried in his troubles. (Figuratively, the villain has him prisoner and has him framed for a murder rap; the girl is presumably dead, everything is lost, and the DIFFERENT murder method is about to dispose of the suffering protagonist.) 
4–The hero extricates himself using HIS OWN SKILL, training or brawn. 
5–The mysteries remaining–one big one held over to this point will help grip interest–are cleared up in course of final conflict as hero takes the situation in hand. 
6–Final twist, a big surprise, (This can be the villain turning out to be the unexpected person, having the “Treasure” be a dud, etc.) 
7–The snapper, the punch line to end it.  (It is common for the final twist and the punchline to be combined in the last sentence.)


Monday, January 2, 2017

Bakemonogatari's Hitagi Crab and Lester Dent's Master Formula

As part of an upcoming gig, I have been reading Bakemonogatari for a review.  Bakemonogatari is a recently translated light novel, a descendant of pulp fiction unique to Japan.  Incorporating manga-style illustrations, these stories are aimed at middle and high school students, but have caught on with wider audiences.

Bakemonogatari consists of five short stories that combine family drama, Shinto/onmyodo magic, and supernatural mystery: "Hitagi Crab", "Mayoi Snail", "Suruga Monkey", "Nadeko Snake", and "Tsubasa Cat".  Currently, only "Hitagi Crab" and "Mayoi Snail" have been published in English.  And, although author NISIOISIN covers the origins with clever wordplay, the plot of "Hitagi Crab" follows the formula created by Lester Dent to write his short fiction.

After Koyomi Araragi catches the falling Hitagi Senjogahara at the start of "Hitagi Crab", he discovers that she is effectively weightless.  In all respects but her weight on a scale, Hitagi is a normal healthy girl. Intrigued, he investigates further, asking her former classmates about her past.   To guard her secrets, Hitagi threatens Koyomi with a box cutter and a stapler, but a strange mention of a crab prompts Koyomi to try to help her regain her missing scale-weight.  He introduces Hitagi to Meme Oshino, the man who had rescued him from a vampire and a classmate from a cat possessing her. A specialist in aberrations, Oshino identifies the source of Hitagi's affliction as a Crab of Weight, also known as a stone-weight crab, and one of the eight million gods of Shinto.  To free Hitagi, however, Oshino says that she must confront the issues in her past that caused her to make a pact with the crab god.  He can help her, but only Hitagi can save herself...

Dent recommends starting with "a different murder method for the villain to use."  In this case, Hitagi offers an unusual mystery instead, a girl who is effectively weightless.  From there, he divides the story into four 1,500 word parts. As translation affects the word-length of the story, instead of the 1,500 words of each section of Lester Dent's Master Formula, I will be using chapters.  Fortunately, "Hitagi Crab" has eight chapters which line up roughly with the sections Dent suggests.  From hereon, there do be spoilers:
FIRST 1500 WORDS
1--First line, or as near thereto as possible, introduce the hero and swat him with a fistful of trouble. Hint at a mystery, a menace or a problem to be solved--something the hero has to cope with.

2--The hero pitches in to cope with his fistful of trouble. (He tries to fathom the mystery, defeat the menace, or solve the problem.)

3--Introduce ALL the other characters as soon as possible. Bring them on in action.

4--Hero's endevours land him in an actual physical conflict near the end of the first 1500 words.

5--Near the end of first 1500 words, there is a complete surprise twist in the plot development.
 Matching "Hitagi Crab" to this outline, we see:

1) Koyomi catches Hitagi as she falls down the stairs, and then discovers that she is weightless.

2) Koyomi asks Tsubasa Hanewaka about her classmate, Hitagi, to learn more about the mysterious girl's past.

3) Koyomi, Hitagi, Tsubasa, Oshino, and an unamed crab are all introduced in this section.  Although Tsubasa does not have much to do with the plot of "Hitagi Crab", she is the relationship character by which the other humans are connected to each other.

4) Hitagi confronts Koyomi, sticking a boxcutter and a stapler inside his mouth.

5) Hitagi does not want to be helped.
SECOND 1500 WORDS

1--Shovel more grief onto the hero.

2--Hero, being heroic, struggles, and his struggles lead up to:

3--Another physical conflict.

4--A surprising plot twist to end the 1500 words.
1) Hitagi is dangerous with her school supplies, stapling the inside of Koyomi's cheek.   She is also as sharp with her words as with her improvised weapons.  Worse still, we find out that Koyomi had recently been attacked by a vampire.

2) Koyomi has to convince Hitagi he can help, which he does by showcasing a miraculous healing ability.  He then introduces her to Oshino, and they both eventually talk Hitagi into accepting their help.

3) Other than another death threat from the stapler girl, there is no action at this stage.

4) Although Oshino as an omyodo practitioner can help Hitagi, only Hitagi can save herself.  At this time, Hitagi joins Koyomi as the hero of "Hitagi Crab".
THIRD 1500 WORDS

1--Shovel the grief onto the hero.

2--Hero makes some headway, and corners the villain or somebody in:

3--A physical conflict.

4--A surprising plot twist, in which the hero preferably gets it in the neck bad, to end the 1500 words.
1) Hitagi reveals that her mom is a cultist, and that her adherence to the religion broke her family.

2) The villain is identified as a Crab of Weight, a type of Shinto god that takes weight away from people in exchange for a request.

3) Hitagi, Koyomi, and Oshino confront the crab.  The crab pins Hitagi against the wall, crucifixion -style.

4) Hitagi admits that she had made a deal with the crab to take away her emotional attachment to her mother.  In exchange, the crab took her weight.
FOURTH 1500 WORDS
1--Shovel the difficulties more thickly upon the hero.

2--Get the hero almost buried in his troubles. (Figuratively, the villain has him prisoner and has him framed for a murder rap; the girl is presumably dead, everything is lost, and the DIFFERENT murder method is about to dispose of the suffering protagonist.)

3--The hero extricates himself using HIS OWN SKILL, training or brawn.

4--The mysteries remaining--one big one held over to this point will help grip interest--are cleared up in course of final conflict as hero takes
the situation in hand.

5--Final twist, a big surprise, (This can be the villain turning out to be the unexpected person, having the "Treasure" be a dud, etc.)

6--The snapper, the punch line to end it.
1-3) Koyomi and Oshino pin the crab to the floor.  Hitagi is helpless against the wall until she begs the crab to return her mother to her.  The crab relents, taking away Hitagi's curse and restoring her weight.

4) Hitagi wanted nothing to do with her mother, as her mother had invited the cult leader to the house to rape Hitagi.  Hitagi escaped by braining the man with her track cleats.  Seeking revenge, the cult leader bankrupted Hitagi's family.  Soon after, Hitagi made her deal with the Crab of Weight.

5) The next day, Koyomi goes to weigh himself.  He now weighs 100 kg, or his weight plus that of Hitagi's normal weight.

6) The gods can be so sloppy in doing their jobs.

Thus Lester Dent's pulps methods are still in active employ in a different language, country, and time from the Depression-era Chicago that inspired his Doc Savage stories, as well as countless other pulps.

Tuesday, October 11, 2016

Lester Dent's Pulp Master Formula

Writing advice from the author of Doc Savage, Lester Dent:

This is a formula, a master plot, for any 6000 word pulp story. It has worked on adventure, detective, western and war-air. It tells exactly where to put everything. It shows definitely just what must happen in each successive thousand words.

No yarn of mine written to the formula has yet failed to sell.

The business of building stories seems not much different from the business of building anything else.

Here's how it starts:

1. A DIFFERENT MURDER METHOD FOR VILLAIN TO USE
2. A DIFFERENT THING FOR VILLAIN TO BE SEEKING
3. A DIFFERENT LOCALE
4. A MENACE WHICH IS TO HANG LIKE A CLOUD OVER HERO

One of these DIFFERENT things would be nice, two better, three swell. It may help if they are fully in mind before tackling the rest.

A different murder method could be--different. Thinking of shooting, knifing, hydrocyanic, garroting, poison needles, scorpions, a few others, and writing them on paper gets them where they may suggest something. Scorpions and their poison bite? Maybe mosquitos or flies treated with deadly germs?

If the victims are killed by ordinary methods, but found under strange and identical circumstances each time, it might serve, the reader of course not knowing until the end, that the method of murder is ordinary.

Scribes who have their villain's victims found with butterflies, spiders or bats stamped on them could conceivably be flirting with this gag.

Probably it won't do a lot of good to be too odd, fanciful or grotesque with murder methods.

The different thing for the villain to be after might be something other than jewels, the stolen bank loot, the pearls, or some other old ones.

Here, again one might get too bizarre.

Unique locale? Easy. Selecting one that fits in with the murder method and the treasure--thing that villain wants--makes it simpler, and it's also nice to use a familiar one, a place where you've lived or worked. So many pulpateers don't. It sometimes saves embarrassment to know nearly as much about the locale as the editor, or enough to fool him.

Here's a nifty much used in faking local color. For a story laid in Egypt, say, author finds a book titled "Conversational Egyptian Easily Learned," or something like that. He wants a character to ask in Egyptian, "What's the matter?" He looks in the book and finds, "El khabar, eyh?" To keep the reader from getting dizzy, it's perhaps wise to make it clear in some fashion, just what that means. Occasionally the text will tell this, or someone can repeat it in English. But it's a doubtful move to stop and tell the reader in so many words the English translation.

The writer learns they have palm trees in Egypt. He looks in the book, finds the Egyptian for palm trees, and uses that. This kids editors and readers into thinking he knows something about Egypt.

Here's the second installment of the master plot.

Divide the 6000 word yarn into four 1500 word parts. In each 1500 word part, put the following:


FIRST 1500 WORDS
1--First line, or as near thereto as possible, introduce the hero and swat him with a fistful of trouble. Hint at a mystery, a menace or a problem to be solved--something the hero has to cope with.

2--The hero pitches in to cope with his fistful of trouble. (He tries to fathom the mystery, defeat the menace, or solve the problem.)

3--Introduce ALL the other characters as soon as possible. Bring them on in action.

4--Hero's endevours land him in an actual physical conflict near the end of the first 1500 words.

5--Near the end of first 1500 words, there is a complete surprise twist in the plot development.

SO FAR: Does it have SUSPENSE?
Is there a MENACE to the hero?
Does everything happen logically?

At this point, it might help to recall that action should do something besides advance the hero over the scenery. Suppose the hero has learned the dastards of villains have seized somebody named Eloise, who can explain the secret of what is behind all these sinister events. The hero corners villains, they fight, and villains get away. Not so hot.

Hero should accomplish something with his tearing around, if only to rescue Eloise, and surprise! Eloise is a ring-tailed monkey. The hero counts the rings on Eloise's tail, if nothing better comes to mind.
They're not real. The rings are painted there. Why?


SECOND 1500 WORDS

1--Shovel more grief onto the hero.

2--Hero, being heroic, struggles, and his struggles lead up to:

3--Another physical conflict.

4--A surprising plot twist to end the 1500 words.

NOW: Does second part have SUSPENSE?
Does the MENACE grow like a black cloud?
Is the hero getting it in the neck?
Is the second part logical?

DON'T TELL ABOUT IT***Show how the thing looked. This is one of the secrets of writing; never tell the reader--show him. (He trembles, roving eyes, slackened jaw, and such.) MAKE THE READER SEE HIM.

When writing, it helps to get at least one minor surprise to the printed page. It is reasonable to to expect these minor surprises to sort of  inveigle the reader into keeping on. They need not be such profound efforts. One method of accomplishing one now and then is to be gently misleading. Hero is examining the murder room. The door behind him begins slowly to open. He does not see it. He conducts his examination blissfully. Door eases open, wider and wider, until--surprise! The glass pane falls out of the big window across the room. It must have fallen slowly, and air blowing into the room caused the door to open. Then what the heck made the pane fall so slowly? More mystery.

Characterizing a story actor consists of giving him some things which make him stick in the reader's mind. TAG HIM.

BUILD YOUR PLOTS SO THAT ACTION CAN BE CONTINUOUS.


THIRD 1500 WORDS

1--Shovel the grief onto the hero.

2--Hero makes some headway, and corners the villain or somebody in:

3--A physical conflict.

4--A surprising plot twist, in which the hero preferably gets it in the neck bad, to end the 1500 words.

DOES: It still have SUSPENSE?
The MENACE getting blacker?
The hero finds himself in a hell of a fix?
It all happens logically?

These outlines or master formulas are only something to make you certain of inserting some physical conflict, and some genuine plot twists, with a little suspense and menace thrown in. Without them, there is no pulp story.

These physical conflicts in each part might be DIFFERENT, too. If one fight is with fists, that can take care of the pugilism until next the next yarn. Same for poison gas and swords. There may, naturally, be exceptions. A hero with a peculiar punch, or a quick draw, might use it more than once.

The idea is to avoid monotony.

ACTION:
Vivid, swift, no words wasted. Create suspense, make the reader see and feel the action.

ATMOSPHERE:
Hear, smell, see, feel and taste.

DESCRIPTION:
Trees, wind, scenery and water.

THE SECRET OF ALL WRITING IS TO MAKE EVERY WORD COUNT.


FOURTH 1500 WORDS
1--Shovel the difficulties more thickly upon the hero.

2--Get the hero almost buried in his troubles. (Figuratively, the villain has him prisoner and has him framed for a murder rap; the girl is presumably dead, everything is lost, and the DIFFERENT murder method is about to dispose of the suffering protagonist.)

3--The hero extricates himself using HIS OWN SKILL, training or brawn.

4--The mysteries remaining--one big one held over to this point will help grip interest--are cleared up in course of final conflict as hero takes
the situation in hand.

5--Final twist, a big surprise, (This can be the villain turning out to be the unexpected person, having the "Treasure" be a dud, etc.)

6--The snapper, the punch line to end it.

HAS: The SUSPENSE held out to the last line?
The MENACE held out to the last?
Everything been explained?
It all happen logically?
Is the Punch Line enough to leave the reader with that WARM FEELING?
Did God kill the villain? Or the hero?


From The Dirty 30s at paper-dragon.com