structure | Bradley Robb

Things have been quiet around here lately, but not for lack of trying. Frankly, for someone who hasn’t earned an honest paycheck since June, I’ve been remarkably busy. First, I’ve been doing a good bit of freelancing work, so much so that I had to take a good joke and try and turn it into an honest business. If you remember The Pandemic Group – the fake new media marketing company I started when the Swine Flu first became big news – you might be shocked (shocked!*) to see that the fake website has since been replaced with a brochure landing page.

Yes, that does mean I am starting my own company. And I already have some really cool clients. Instead of operating a strict SEO company, I’m leveraging what I call “conversational marketing” – that is combining smart SEO practices with helping companies take advantage of social media to find current and new customers and turn them into friends.

And speaking of social media, I presented on that very topic – of honing in your passion and finding others who share it – at this month’s Social Media Club here in Richmond. I had a blast and will post the videos of said presentation when they become available. I use the plural because not only was my presentation recorded, but I was also interviewed by Jolie O’Dell who came up what I believe she called “Robb’s Theorem on Furries in Niche Marketing.”

The basic premise of that theory is that furries, people dressed up like animals pretending to be people, is perhaps as far removed from normal life as any particular niche or vertical can be. And yet, when you take that passion and expand it onto a global scale, furries measure in the millions. If such a finite passion can measure in that quantity, other niches can reasonably duplicate that kind of community.

The video interview wasn’t the only bit of press that night. Grid Magazine was in attendance and snagged not only the photo of my above, but also a fairly good recap of the night in general. I do believe that this article officially marks the first time I’ve been on the other side of a printed byline. Yes, I’ve been on the local NBC affiliate a few times, but there is a special place in my heart for printed journalism.

And finally, in fiction writing news, I am now a full chapter into the second act of Project Kingdom. In the traditional Three Act Structure, this one is always my favorite. Why? Because the first act is really a setup, establishing the characters, pushing the hero on their call to action, setting the characters on their chosen paths and providing small victories which seem huge at the time. The first act, in other words, is driving by the characters. In the second act, everything is taken away from them.

Mark my words, the second act of Project Kingdom is where things get real. Across the board, characters find their best laid plans going to waste, and even those pulling the strings find themselves losing control. People die. Things go wrong. Powers shift and roles are revered on a regular basis. And I’m exceptionally excited about writing it.

But I’m going to pound out a short story first. Why? Well, I watched the documentary “Postcards from the Future” on Friday night, and Chuck Palahniuk got me all inspired. I started thinking about technology, darkness, and the digital artifacts we leave behind. Throw in a castoff line from a Washington Social Scene Song…(“If any rock’s going to save my soul then what the fuck is it waiting for?”) and a story started to brew.

I banged out an outline in a few minutes, and I liked what I saw. I still don’t know the characters, but I’ve got 4,000 words left on my goal for WriteClubRVA, and I figure it’s about time I knock out something I can show.

I guess that means people are going to get a free story from me. If you’re wondering what my short stories typically look like, I’ve got a couple online in my portfolio.

*Bonus points if you got that movie reference. Hint – it’s my all time favorite film.

Sometimes a problem or project just seems too large to delve into. Concepts are too obtuse. Situations simply too large. Gravity, or the need for gravity, keeps some ideas flat on the ground while the others hover ahead, just out of reach. No matter how wide your arms are, there’s no getting them around the situation.

This was certainly a problem I found myself in when I returned from the war. It was a situation so large, so otherworldly that I could not find a place to sink my fingers in, to start to rip the skin off in order to get to the meat. That I had spent the majority of my time over there writing emails, short stories, and a modern lit novel was cause for great dismay with my literature professor from the Academy. I told him the war was too big for me.

The same problem was plaguing me when I recently sat down to start working on a novel. I had issues that I wanted to deal with, and characters that I wanted to have show them, and a desire for complexity both in the portrayal of society but also in the plot structure. The entire situation screamed out that it was big. Real big. As in “damn, where do I start?” big.

In the years since the war, I’ve grown to love the outline. I’ve learned to love multiple drafts. I’ve learned to love the phrase, “I’ll fix it in post.” I have acclimatized to a non-linear work process.

And I’ve got a ton of index cards.

Not my actual bulletin board

The start of my story was that first index card. I forced that finger hold by writing down the very first thing I knew about my story. I then wrote one or two clarifying notes about that first though. I grabbed another index card, and repeated. Before I knew it, I was tacking up a rather detailed organizational structure onto my bulletin board.

After a single night, a significant amount of whiskey, and dozens of index cards, I suddenly had the playground on which on my novels would unfold.

The lesson? Sometimes, you just need to find “a” starting point rather than “the” starting point. After all, you can always fix it in post.

Bradley Robb

I'm Here Purely To Amuse Myself

Tag Archives: structure

The First Sentence is not the First Step