Queen of the Bondo

In the latest issue of Writer’s Digest,  Orson Scott Card tells you how to use four main elements of fiction — milieu, idea, character, or event — to determine your story’s structure.

As I was reading this over a bowl of generic Golden Grahams, I started to wonder: if I were going to write a novel about Cleveland, which element might dominate?

Cleveland itself would be the main character in the milieu story. Like Gulliver, my protagonist might arrive in Cleveland from elsewhere, poke around, notice how empty downtown is at rush hour, how nobody seems to understand “stand right, walk left,” and how absurd it is to evict the local convention and visitors’ bureau in order to install a temporary casino.

In the idea story, I might pose a question such as, “What would happen if Frank Jackson got attacked by radioactive sea lampreys?” or “What if Drew Carey ran for mayor — and won?” or just plain old “What the hell happened to this place?” and then plug in some characters who’ll spend the next 60-80,000 words exploring the ramifications of this nightmare scenario.

In the character story, Cleveland would have to happen to someone. I would have to create  a character with hopes and hangups and feelings — and then sacrifice him to the gaping maw of Cleveland. I would watch Cleveland grind my little friend between its jaws, swallow him, and then either assimilate him or regurgitate his mangled psyche back into the wider world.

In an event story, says Card, “something is wrong in the fabric of the universe.” Clearly, an event story would take place during the postapocalyptic dark age after Lebron James leaves Cleveland. Surely there would be a mysterious prophecy heralding the birth of a new savior. And of course that savior would rise from the lowliest roots to the greatest of heights, would be the One True Leader who would singlehandedly save Cleveland from itself. And then the steel mills would come back and everything would be all right again just like during the Eisenhower administration.