Showing posts with label Princess Bride. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Princess Bride. Show all posts

Saturday, September 19, 2009

Princess Bride--Perfectly Paced

You know, one of the most common mistakes we writers make is the dreaded sagging middle. No, I'm not talking about what happens after years of sitting at a computer, but about what happens when your story seems to run out of steam halfway through. We do pretty well at beginning and ends--heck, we work on those like crazy. But that darned middle can be so deadly.

Therein lies yet another reason I love The Princess Bride. The pacing is brilliant. We ease into the story, and then it's off to the races. But moments of humor and romance are all brought at just the right time to give us a rest. Consider the fire swamp scene.



Here Westley & Buttercup are, heading into the dreaded fire swamp. We know something bad is coming...just listen to the music! (You know, I've often said if life only came with a soundtrack, we'd know when to watch out for things!) Sure enough, the fire spurt erupts, as does Buttercup's dress. But Westley's calm as he puts the fire out, and his confident smile as he says, "There now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" brings the tension down. Next, the lightning sand swallows Buttercup, and the tension soars. Westley cuts a vine loose and dives in after her. Following are seconds that seem like lifetimes (and that allow the ROUS to come snuffing about), but then, music swells as Westley pulls them both free. We lie on the ground, gasping along with them, grateful for the few moments to recover. Finally they walk along, calm, in good humor, talking about how they've overcome the hazards even as Westley gracefully lifts Buttercup over said hazard. It's a lovely walk in the forest now. Until (ominous music, please), the ROUS attacks! Tension sky rockets as the beast sinks his overbite into Westley's shoulder! We're on the edge of the seat until that final jab of the sword and the end of the hideous ROUS. Westley and Buttercup hang on to each other, then rise and walk from the fire swamp, a bit bloodied but alive. Ahh...time to relax.

Oh, wait. Here comes Humperdink!


And on it goes, ebbing and flowing, just enough to keep us both engrossed and relieved. Of course, one of the greatest pacing tools is the scenes between the grandpa and grand son. (Remember, "Hold it! Hold it! Is this a kissing book?")

So how do we, as writers, ensure the right pacing in our books? Well, I have a few ideas. But first, let's hear from you.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Princess Bride--Favorite Lines!

I love doing this! Just thinking of these lines makes me smile. You guys already listed some of my all-time faves, but here, in the order they show up in the movie, are the rest of my favs:

Inigo (to the man in black): "You seem like a decent fellow, I hate to kill you."
Man in Black/Westley: "You seem like a decent fellow, I hate to die."


Westley (to Fessik, whom he's just knocked out): Rest well, and dream of large women.

Westley
: I told you I would always come for you. Why didn't you wait for me?
Buttercup
: Well... you were dead.

Westley (to Buttercup when they enter the fire swamp):
"It's not that bad." Buttercup gives him an "HUH?" look. "I'm not saying I'd like to build a summer home here, but the trees are actually quite lovely."

Miracle Max: "Sonny, true love is the greatest thing in the world. Except for a nice MLT: a mutton, lettuce and tomato sandwich, where the mutton is nice and lean and the tomato is ripe. They're so perky, I love that."
(I like this one so much because many years ago when I worked at Multnomah publishers, the leadership team was called...wait for it...the MLT. So these lines from Max always made me giggle.)

Inigo: "Let me 'splain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up."

Westley: My brains, his steel, and your strength against sixty men, and you think a little head jiggle is supposed to make me happy? Hmmm?

Clergyman: Mawwidge. Mawwidge is whut bwings us togevah todaay. Mawwidge, dat bwessed awangement, that dweem wifin a dweem... And wuv, twoo wuv, will fowoh you fowevah... So tweasha your wuv...




Thanks, everyone for playing.

Peace, Karen

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Princess Bride--Perfectly Peopled

My hubby and I were sitting up together last night, flipping through TV channels, trying to find something we'd both enjoy watching. We'd gone through almost 200 channels with no luck, and then...we hit paydirt.

Princess Bride.

Some of you who know me know I love this movie. Big Time. I own it in VCR and 3 DVD versions. As Don and I watched it for the umpteenth time, I couldn't help but wonder why men and women both love this book/movie so much. My insightful hubby made a comment that explained part of the movie's lasting appeal: it's perfectly cast. Seriously. Can you imagine anyone else playing

Westley and Buttercup,


Fezzik, Inego, or Vizzini,


or Miracle Max and his wife, Valerie?

How about Grandpa or his grandson?

See what I mean? Perfect choices.

I owe a debt of deep gratitude to whomever did the casting in that movie, because that person gave me, as a write, a valuable lesson: I need to be as purposeful in crafting the characters in my books. I need to build my characters with excellence, to ensure the characters personalities, voice, descriptions fit them to as perfect a "T" as they did in the PB movie.

So how to do that? My first step is to write a few scenes from that character's POV. To let that character speak as freely as possible. The second step is to search magazines and the internet to find my characters. Getty Images is a great place to do this. I've found a lot of my characters there. Faces that, that moment I see them, I know are my characters. And even as I study their features, I find the characters starting to breathe, to come to life, to resonate in my mind. They tell me their stories, and I discover their backgrounds, their family stories, their likes and dislikes. It's pretty cool, actually. And loads of fun.

How about you? When you're writing, how do you bring your characters to life?

Karen