Over the past few weeks I’ve read a lot of manuscripts, between being a judge for my local RWA chapter contest, and trying to make a big old dent in my submissions folder (uh, let’s just say my plan to have it empty by the end of the month may have been a little ambitious… *sigh*). And it seems just about every single thing I read, I found myself making the exact same comment…

Where’s the GMC?

For those of you who aren’t up on the acronyms, GMC stands for Goal, Motivation, Conflict (See the totally kick-assingly awesome Goal, Motivation & Conflict, The Building Blocks of Good Fiction by Debra Dixon). Your main characters (in a romance, that’s both the hero and the heroine, or both heroes, depending on whether it’s an M/F or M/M) need to have a GMC. Essentially, your story comes from what each character wants, why he/she wants it and what’s keeping him/her from getting it (and it’s even better if the other character’s goal and motivation is a factor in what’s keeping him/her from getting it).

If the characters are just hanging out letting stuff happen to them/around them, you’re missing a driving force in moving your story forward, and basically keeping your reader interested with what’s going on.

Now, one thing I have to stress, bickering? Not conflict. And I keep seeing this over and over again and the only thing it’s doing is making me dislike the characters. If the heroine is a bitch to the hero simply because you’re trying to prolong the will they/won’t they-ness of your story? You’re missing conflict. If the heroine is a bitch to the hero because he owns a giant book store conglomerate and he’s trying to put her little bookshop around the corner out of business, even though it’s been in her family for eight generations? Ahhh, now we have conflict.

T and I watched The Bourne Ultimatum a few nights ago and while I was watching, I realized that the Bourne movies are a perfect example of a good GMC – Jason wants to find out who he is and how he became a mercenary killer (goal), because he has no memory of his past (motivation), but the CIA/FBI/pickyouralphabethere don’t want him to, because he’ll find out deep dark secrets that could get some very powerful people in serious trouble (conflict).

So, what is it that makes me fall asleep smack in the middle of every single one of these movies? Because no matter what I’m doing, or where we are *cough* the drive in *cough*, I have yet to watch a Bourne movie all the way through. I mean, it has the GMC I crave, so what’s up?

Well, while the trilogy has this great GMC keeping things going, for me, I also needed character development. Sure, Jason found out the big secret at the end of the three movies, woohoo, but basically, the movies are two hours of people chasing Jason, Jason chasing people, and lots of shooting. Did we find out why Jason made the choice he made that ended up with him being involved in the secret? No. Do we understand what happened in his past that led him to make that decision? No. Do we even find out how he feels about his part in this secret? Nope, not that either. And that motivation and insight into his character is what would have made the movies interesting enough to keep me awake.

And without these two elements, your story becomes less a story and more a vignette of two people’s lives. And with a vignette, your story just sorta plods along all happy and stuff until it ends. Big deal. Think about this, if Glinda had told Dorothy how to get home to Kansas before she started on the Yellow Brick Road, would we have followed her down it? Met the Scarecrow? The Tin Man? The Lion? Elpheba? Nope. And we woulda missed out on a lotta good stuff.

So don’t make us miss out on the good stuff. Kick your characters. And just when they think they’ve gotten back up? Kick em again. And again. And again. Until they’ve overcome every single obstacle you’ve thrown in their way and grown as a person in the process.

Then, and only then, will you have a great story.

One of the key messages I hoped I got across in the workshop I did a few weeks ago over at Romance Divas was how important good communication is between an editor and a writer.

A big part of good communication is how you treat the other person. Case in point? This writer, who was a little peeved about being edited. (Uhm, before you click, there’s some not nice language in there). I respect his right to be upset about changing his meaning, but I don’t see how that kind of response is going to make any editor, let alone the one he was writing to, want to work with him again.

I did think The Guardian had a pretty great response though.

I’ve been on both sides of this fence, and yeah, it sucks to have your words twisted and changed and manipulated without your knowledge (Worse when the rewritten version is riddled with spelling and grammatical mistakes, but I’m not bitter. Much. *grin*), but a ‘hey, can we talk about this’ goes a heck of a lot farther than ‘you’re a $%**#$!’ for relationship-building and sets a better tone for work in the future. And really, do you want to get a reputation for being insulting and difficult to work with?

Thanks to Kathy Kehrli for the links.