Thursday, June 9: Femme Fatale
TAKE A SEAT
by Deborah Elliott-Upton
In my “Writing & Marketing the Short Story” classes at the local college, I could tell who would be the best writers from the moment they chose a seat.
At first, I thought it was a fluke when the students who would write the most interesting stories chose to sit in the same area where my students had in previous classes. Semester after semester, the same scenario repeated itself and I realized my theory had credence.
Mr/Ms Imagination seated themselves in the same chairs as all the Mr/Ms Imaginations had taken before. They composed delightful, unpredictable and memorable stories. I knew I would soon see their bylines in print.
The writers who argued instead of listened during critique would take the same row and chair as the Complainers had in the former class. These people did not believe their stories needed any rewriting. Obviously, I was not “getting” what they meant. When I recognized this type of student, I rarely spent much of the valuable and limited class discussion time on their work.
Why bother? The sad thing is they truly believed what they had “in their head” about the story had shown up “on the page.” If the Complainers would stop and listen to the questions their classmates asked concerning the story, they would realize much work needed to be done on the manuscript before the story would be publishable.
Clustered to my left side and to the rear of the room would be at least two students who would drop the class when they realized they were expected to write.
The person who never missed a class, yet whose work never improved, would occupy the same space — usually near the front where one would assume those most interested in learning would sit. The Always A Student took spare notes and enjoyed talking about writing more than she did actual writing.
When the phenomena repeated again and again, I expected to hear the theme from “The Twilight Zone.” It soon became my private project to see if the students shared other similar qualities with their chair’s previous tenants.
As a personality trainer, I am conditioned to note the traits of those wandering into my life or me into theirs. Every personality type comes equipped with their own sets of strengths and weaknesses. When we work on eliminating our weak traits while fortifying our strengths, we naturally become happier individuals.
As a mystery writer, I take notes on people’s nuances, quirks and motivations for my own character studies. I often use personality charts to help deduce my character’s probable reactions. Knowing their innate weaknesses and strengths guides me along a blueprint of sorts to know how they may respond when trouble comes calling.
My popularity as an instructor rose when I assigned homework watching at least one episode of “Survivor” and the movie, “Die Hard.”
On “Survivor” the plot is the same for everyone: to outlast their competitors and win the cash prize. The story playing out is altered each season not so much from the environment or challenges as much as the players’ personalities and life experiences. In “Die Hard,” Bruce Willis’ character, John McClane, takes charge because that is what a rogue cop who has a personal stake (his wife is among those held at gunpoint by the terrorists) does in that situation.
If, while sitting in my classroom, a group of Uzi-bearing terrorists entered—dressed in full commando-like gear—what would you do? What would I do? What would the person next to you do? Aha! Our actions would depend on our personality, beliefs and skills. Not all of us are the Bruce Willis action-figure type. Who would emerge as the hero of this story? I am not asking who would take on the enemy. I am asking whether you wrote or read this story, whose viewpoint would you most want to hear? If the story were told from Mrs. McClane’s point of view, wouldn’t it be a completely different film?
Studying movies, television programs, short stories and novels for the writer’s choice of characterization techniques is a vital tool to both creating and enjoying good fiction. Plot is important, but it is the characters that make the story come alive.
Bruce Willis’ portrayal of McClane makes “Die Hard” stand out from other action movies. If another actor played the part, would it have been as dynamic? Imagine someone other than Clark Gable as Rhett Butler. What if Captain Butler was played by Humphrey Bogart, Gary Cooper or Tyrone Powers? Or hey, even Bruce Willis?
Does it make a difference where we choose to sit? Would the ones who excel do so if they sat in the Quitters chairs? Would the Complainers gripe less and learn more if they sat on the opposite side of the room or those whose writing never evolved flourish if only they sat two seats back? Perhaps. But, consider this: What if we can create success wherever we choose as our place when we decide to conquer our doubts and forge through personality flaws we can alter?
Take a seat wherever you are most comfortable, and let’s see where this ride takes us.
That’s a phenomenon I never noticed, but then I’ve only once taught creative writing.
It is interesting how students and the rest of us pick seats in public. As a student I liked to sit up front. As an adult, I like back row on the aisle and near the door. Hmmm!
Thanks for the comment, Janice. This was my very first column for Criminal Brief and I’m not sure why it is running instead of what I sent to James for this week, but I still like this column and yes, it’s still holding true when I teach a class. Interesting how we change up some things as we grow up and take a different seat than we used to.
This is a fascinating column reminding us that every single thing we do reflects who we are. Same is true for the characters we write.
Thanks for a great analysis.
Very good article.
I loved Die Hard, but not Survivor….so I’d probably have to watch it to fully grasp what the teach is teaching!
I just watched The Expendables. Completely non pc, terrible acting, lots of action with old guys (two of whom dipped into too much botox)—-I loved it.
Now I’m wondering where I’ll sit.
Here’s an experiment: tell the first student who walks in the classroom on the first day, “The best writers always sit there.” Some, either the serious and ambitious or the real best writers, will take you up on it; others will demur. Maybe the chairs have all the talent.
The reason Deborah’s column for this week is a repeat is because when Deborah first sent what she’d written for today to me, the internet swallowed it whole and I never received it. (She has subsequently sent it to me again, and I’m waiting to hear from her if she wants to have me post it today or wait until next week.) I didn’t want to disappoint all her fans, so I put up her very first column, which I knew was one of her favorites, as a placeholder, knowing that many of our readers had never seen it—at its inception, CB had a much smaller audience that it has today.
‘Maybe the chairs have all the talent.’
Very funny, Jon. And you may be right.
My chair has all the talent. It’s perfect. It does its job without fuss, without complaint (unlike its occupant), and it never misses a deadline (being there when I sit down). And best of all, it’s always there to give me support whenever a story gets the better of me, which is most days. Bless you, chair.
Okay, so which seats were those creative folks in??
I always find myself sitting all over the place, sometimes it depends on how the classroom is set up or where the air vents are or the windows. I tend to pay closer attention if I’m somewhere near the front. I must admit, I’m usually a creature of habit once I’ve chosen a spot. But your post does have me thinking back over the different seats I’ve assumed and whether it’s played a role in my interactions in the classroom.
I remembered that column! Once again, I come away believing you are a fine, fine writer and instructor.
Appreciate the kind words and the suggestions about those creative chairs. LOL Jenni, I am absolutely sure whatever chair any of us here sat in was THE perfect chair for the time. Uh oh, I think I feel a story coming on, something about the attack of the creative chairs on some poor dolt who sat in the dunce chair.
In my English classes most of us were assigned seats or it was alphabetical as I recall!