I just finished up reading a year’s worth of Gene Wolfe. My brain is on moebius-wards.

Word-up. The best plots in a game are the ones that grow out of the work of the players, IMHO.

– c.

Let me know your thoughts on Finch? I have a copy coming to me based on Will’s earlier review(s) of it.

But the more you leave out, the harder it is to “stick the move,” so to speak. (And this goes with your comment, Eddy.)

That’s why I advocate broad, confident strokes on the part of the writer, with the reader only having to invest a portion of her mental effort to complete the picture, the story, the mystery, the character, what-have-you.

– c.

(Interesting, I see this time and again on Whitechapel. The readers root for Six and often vote with him in mind, but when I send the story on a horrible twist, the readers are still very excited. But then again, I think I have very self-aware readers who know that things have to get worse before they get better.)

The effect is to put the reader off balance, and that’s intentional (I presume) because that herky-jerky uncertainty captures the feel of things like “Dark City”, where the uncertainty is a much a part of the setting as the weather. This can be a really good effect, but it’s also a bit of a risk.

The author is borrowing against the reader’s future good will here, and it’s not hard to repay too much (overwriting the gaps the reader has filled in himself, creating dissonance) or too little (Leaving things unanswered or creating a sense that the author is cheating). All of which is to say, yes, it’s a great trick, but it can be harder than it appears to implement.

-Rob D.

All told, though, I think that’s the best way to start a story (painting with a broad brush, I know) — always start the story as late as you can. Relates back to my post many moons ago about why I hate origin stories.

– c.

“Whoa, action on page one! Who is this person? How did they get here?”

Lawds yes, that’s a good way to do it.

I’ll note that it’s also a difficult way — you really have to walk the right line if you’re going to leave mysteries on the table. Do it right, it’ll generate lots of conversation. Do it wrong (much easier!), and it’ll generate lots of frustration.

I like mystery and uncertainty that persists, where I can bring my own imagination to the table — but I like for it to set up most of the work for me, and leave me *just enough room* to generate answers based on the content and context already provided.

– c.