The Leviathan Chronicles

A slightly off-topic post today. I won't be talking about Blog Fiction, but another new (technically old) style of story telling. The Leviathan Chronicles is a podcast fiction. In the style of old time radio it tries to resurrect audio only story telling. It has voice actors, sound effects, and a narrator.

The story exists in a well thought out scifi world. The podcasts have top notch sound quality and effects. It has nearly two dozen voice actors. The soundtrack is all original and does it's part to help engulf the listener into the story. Hell, it even comes with it's own theme song. Nearly everything about it gleams a well polished, professional production and yet... it sucks.

Why? All because the writing is amatuerish. Christof Laputka, The writer and creator, has fallen into the traps that we all probably did when we first began writing. Since Blog Fiction is all about constructive criticism, let's take a look at a few ways to improve the writing and make the Leviathon Chronicles as good as it can be.

Trap #1 We're "told, not shown" the story.
Show, Don't Tell. It's the mantra of fiction writers everywhere. Whether you're writing a book, short story, or screenplay everyone tells us to "show, don't tell" in your writing. There are hundreds of articles out there about how to do that. This article by Dennis Jerz had the best example I've seen. The first block is "telling". The second block is "showing".

Telling:

I'll never forget how I felt after Fido died. I was miserable.

Showing:

Whenever puppies in the pet store window distracted me from the serious business of taking him for his walk, Fido snarled fiercely and pulled mightily at his leash yet he always forgave me instantly. Over the past few years he lost his hearing and his sight, but when he felt the leash click on his collar and smelled fresh air, he still tried to caper. He's been dead for three months now. This morning I filled his water bowl all the way to the top --just the way he likes it -- before I remembered.

The Leviathon Chronicles tells almost everything. The most egregious example comes in the first 40 minute episode. The narrator, for four and a half minutes, goes on to tell us about Whitt Roberts and the hallway he's walking down. I want you to reread those last two statements because you really need to soak in that fact. For four and a half minutes the listener is forced to listen to a stranger's life story. That's over 10% of the episode. You can go download the podcast of the first episode if you don't believe me. It starts at 21:30 and goes to 26:00. Have you ever had someone trap you in a conversation where they told you about their life? It's boring. backstory needs to be revealed piecemeal, and as much as possible, shown, not told. Just to drive home the point, I transcribed the 4.5 minute info dump for your reading pleasure.

Langly Virginia, 1 yr later.
The winds that blew through the CIA campus were growing colder as October faded away. Scarlet leaves speckled the rich green lawn that covered most of the modern grounds. Two White Stone arches filled with aqua marine glass, planked the long central entrance hall - The door that all employees entered to begin the extensive identity verification protocols that were part of everyday life of the farm.

On that Saturday, deep in the Southern annex of the CIA headquarters, a 33 year old man named Whitt Roberts was walking down a sterile hallway that lay more than half a mile underground. He stood about 5 foot ten with straight brown hair that was side parted and combed neatly over his ears. His eyes were a sharp hazel and his medium build seemed to fill out the casual forest green polo shirt that he wore with his banana republic jeans. Indeed, he had been told it was his perfectly non-descript looks that made him so perfectly suited for field work at the company. He wondered if that's why he received the call twelve months ago to come down this hallway.

A great deal had changed for Whitt Roberts in the last twelve months.

What made the hallway deep below the southern annex so unusual was that there were over 20 sets of jet black doors in perfect formation on both sides of the hallway. The floors of the hallway were non-descript white, linoleum that caused Whitt's penny loafers to echo sharply against the glaring, glistening white walls of the hallway. None of the doors had any marking or any nomenclature of any kind. They were sterile, lifeless, and black. The hallway was straight and perfectly rectangular with a stainless steel elevator through which Whitt had exited on one end and a white wall on the far end.

Whitt had heard whispers about the mythical black door group, but never suspected that it actually existed. Certainly, no one who worked in his area ever spoke of it and it was rumored that not even those who worked behind one of the doors knew the nature of the operations conducted behind the other doors. "Boxes within Boxes", Whitt thought. Never at any time when he visited the black door group did he ever see another soul. Never. He hadn't been asked to actually become a part of the black door group, but his boss's boss's sector head had called Whitt into his office for the first time after nine years at the CIA to inform him that he should lend his assistance to a Mr. Jason Sterling when and if called upon.

Any information and conversation would be given top secret security status and considered compartmentalized between the two of them. Any such assistance Whitt provided was not intended to represent any sizable increase in his current work load and Whitt should speak up if it did in any way interfere with his current duties as a third world cryptographer and monitoring agent. Anything Jason Sterling asked for was to take the utmost precedence. It was, in short, the most unusual conversation that Whitt had ever had in the CIA.

His work for the mysterious Jason Sterling began with a phone call twelve months ago as a request for the name of the Egyptian telecommunication company used in the construction of the U.S. embassy in Cairo. This wasn't Whitt's area of expertise, but he knew how to get the information. This person, this Jason Sterling, on the other end of the telephone line, seemed curt, but very grateful and complimentary of his work and then promptly disappeared for 3 months. In the weeks that followed, Whitt received more unusual and seemingly unrelated information requests.

These requests necessitated increasingly deaper levels of investigation into various intelligence databases throughout the government and civilian rounds. Despite his increased level of activity with Sterling, his official jobs work flow seemed to miraculously lighten - as if he was being silently time managed - and much as conducting research for the black door group was flattering to Whitt , he harbored no illusions that he was any member of a privileged circle. In fact, it made him feel even more isolated within the CIA - because his day job had stagnated quickly and his night job - and all work associated with it were kept secret from all others.

(I broke it up into paragraphs to try and make it easier to read There were no such breaks in the audio)

If you think it's boring to read, trust me, it's just as boring to listen to it. This wasn't just a first episode occurrence. It happened again in the second episode when introducing Macallan Orsel. 3 times the narrator launched into an exposition about Macallan, her life, and her relatives - all within a 14 minute span. In all there was nearly 6.5 minutes of exposition. (7:45 to 11:30, 17:40 to 19:00, 20:30 to 21:45). I didn't transcribe that one, you'll have to trust me that they were long, boring, and mostly unnecessary.

I am, by no stretch of the imagination a good writer. That being said, let's see if I can apply a few simple tricks to liven up the exposition about Robert Whitt.

Langly Virginia, 1 yr later.
The winds that blew through the CIA campus were growing colder as October faded away. Scarlet leaves speckled the rich green lawn that covered most of the modern grounds. Two White Stone arches filled with aqua marine glass, planked the long central entrance hall - The door that all employees entered to begin the extensive identity verification protocols that were part of everyday life of the farm.

One should always include details to help the reader picture the scene. However, this paragraph mostly describes the outside, while the scene takes place inside. Also, us as readers are smart. We're all aware that the CIA is a very secure place. We don't need to be told that they have a lot of security in place. So you could shorten this whole paragraph to:

Langly Virginia - CIA Headquarters, October of 1 yr later.

Let's look at the next paragraph.

On that Saturday, deep in the Southern annex of the CIA headquarters, a 33 year old man named Whitt Roberts was walking down a sterile hallway that lay more than half a mile underground. He stood about 5 foot ten with straight brown hair that was side parted and combed neatly over his ears. His eyes were a sharp hazel and his medium build seemed to fill out the casual forest green polo shirt that he wore with his banana republic jeans. Indeed, he had been told it was his perfectly non-descript looks that made him so perfectly suited for field work at the company. He wondered if that's why he received the call twelve months ago to come down this hallway.

Here's the information conveyed that the reader needs. To the writer's credit it shows(not tell) that Whitt works hard because he's in on a saturday. Everything else is "telling". We're told it's a mile underground. Instead Whitt could "breath in the damp, musty air". That action could "show" that he's underground. Also, there's no need to know tell us it's "deep in the southern annex of the CIA headquarters". We know it's "deep" or "buried" because it's a half mile underground and we also already know it's the CIA headquarters. We're then told about his "non-descript looks". Instead of being told that we could be "shown" that he's easy to skip over in a crowd. One way I'd show that is to have a brief scene when someone doesn't notice or recognize him.

Whitt got up from his cubicle. Jack, a fellow analyst, was scurrying past him.
Whitt: "Hi, Jack"
Jack: "Hi, Do... I know you?"
Whitt: "We worked on the Weinberger project last year"
Jack: "Oh... Whitt! I... I don't know why I didn't recognize you."
After small talk, Whit continued to his destination. A destination he'd gotten familiar with over the last twelve months.

There, we now know he isn't memorable, AND established his work for the Black Door group for about the last year. Next paragraph.

A great deal had changed for Whitt Roberts in the last twelve months.

This is the definition of "telling", instead of showing. I would take this line out. We'll expand on it later.

What made the hallway deep below the southern annex so unusual was that there were over 20 sets of jet black doors in perfect formation on both sides of the hallway. The floors of the hallway were non-descript white, linoleum that caused Whitt's penny loafers to echo sharply against the glaring, glistening white walls of the hallway. None of the doors had any marking or any nomenclature of any kind. They were sterile, lifeless, and black. The hallway was straight and perfectly rectangular with a stainless steel elevator through which Whitt had exited on one end and a white wall on the far end.

First of all, I think this paragraph has a lot of description that's "telling" that could be removed without replacing with "showing".

• There's no need to repeat "southern annex".
• I don't know what "doors in perfect formation" would look like.
• Plain White Linoleum implies "non-descript" so that phrase could be taken out.
• If the doors have no marking, then have no nomenclature, so that word isn't needed.
• If you take out the words, "of any kind" the sentence doesn't change meaning, so that can be taken out.
• We already know the doors are black. We already know the doors have no markings so it implies sterile and lifeless. So that entire sentence could be removed.
• How many hallways aren't straight and rectangular? While there are a few that aren't, I think it's safe to assume that the reader will assume that a hallway is straight and rectangular.

So, here is how I would rewrite the previous paragraph to "show" more, tell less, with the superfluous descriptives removed.

The stainless steel doors of the elevator opened. Whitt walked inside. After the doors closed he put a key into a keyhole, turned it, and then entered a 4 digit code. The elevator began to descend, descend below the other floors, descend below the lobby, and below the basement levels. The elevator opened it's doors, but did not make the familiar "bell" noise when arriving at any other destination. Whitt stepped off the elevator and onto the hallway's linoleum floor. His penny loafers made a sound that echoed down the hallway, off the white walls, off the ceiling, and off the wall at the end. He walked past 11 doors and upon reaching the twelfth, he recounted the doors to make sure he was in front of the correct one.

I think that paragraph still conveys the secret, "sterile" nature of the hallway. It's implied there are no markings on the door since he had to count and recount to get the correct door.

Whitt had heard whispers about the mythical black door group, but never suspected that it actually existed. Certainly, no one who worked in his area ever spoke of it and it was rumored that not even those who worked behind one of the doors knew the nature of the operations conducted behind the other doors. "Boxes within Boxes", Whitt thought. Never at any time when he visited the black door group did he ever see another soul. Never. He hadn't been asked to actually become a part of the black door group, but his boss's boss's sector head had called Whitt into his office for the first time after nine years at the CIA to inform him that he should lend his assistance to a Mr. Jason Sterling when and if called upon.

Again, a lot of this stuff can be left out or should be shown. Here is what we learn from this paragraph.

• The Black door group is very secretive
• Whitt was drafted to work for them
• Whitt's worked for the CIA for a while (nine years)

So instead of being bored to death by being told about sector heads, let's show these things.

Whitt saw Rob waiting for the elevator.
Rob: Hey buddy, coming to the poker game?
Whitt: No, I-
Rob: (imitation Whitt) No, I gotta work. Fine, have it your way. More winnings for me. Eight years later you're still the only one who can beat me.
The elevator doors are heard opening.
Rob: What are you up to? Are you even still on the Weinberger project?
Whitt: Yeah, when I have time. I just... got something else going on.
Rob: What?
The elevator doors are heard closing and the sound is heard in the background.
Whitt: Can't talk about it.
Rob: Right, you're all important and secret now..
Whitt: I didn't ask for the assignment, they just gave it to me.
Rob: At least tell who you're working for, It's that overpaid sector head, isn't it?
Whitt: (whispering) You really want to know?
Rob nodded his head and leaned in close.
Whitt: It's the Black Door Group.
Rob looked at Whitt
Rob: You mean... they're for real?
Whitt started chuckling.
By the time the elevator doors opened, they were both laughing with mouths wide open.
Rob: You jackass. You had me.
The elevator doors close.
Rob: (muffled) Someday I'll get you to tell me for real.
Whitt: (muttering) I just did, you didn't believe me.

I think you'll agree that this conveys the same information, but a little less boring. It has the bonus effect of introducing a little conflict between Whitt and "Rob" who I made up. Conflict, no matter how subtle, is always more interesting than being told backstory.

Last 3 paragraphs:

Any information and conversation would be given top secret security status and considered compartmentalized between the two of them. Any such assistance Whitt provided was not intended to represent any sizable increase in his current work load and Whitt should speak up if it did in any way interfere with his current duties as a third world cryptographer and monitoring agent. Anything Jason Sterling asked for was to take the utmost precedence. It was, in short, the most unusual conversation that Whitt had ever had in the CIA.

His work for the mysterious Jason Sterling began with a phone call twelve months ago as a request for the name of the Egyptian telecommunication company used in the construction of the U.S. embassy in Cairo. This wasn't Whitt's area of expertise, but he knew how to get the information. This person, this Jason Sterling, on the other end of the telephone line, seemed curt, but very grateful and complimentary of his work and then promptly disappeared for 3 months. In the weeks that followed, Whitt received more unusual and seemingly unrelated information requests.

These requests necessitated increasingly deaper levels of investigation into various intelligence databases throughout the government and civilian rounds. Despite his increased level of activity with Sterling, his official jobs work flow seemed to miraculously lighten - as if he was being silently time managed - and much as conducting research for the black door group was flattering to Whitt , he harbored no illusions that he was any member of a privileged circle. In fact, it made him feel even more isolated within the CIA - because his day job had stagnated quickly and his night job - and all work associated with it were kept secret from all others.

First of all, when you have a 4 and a half minute exposition, you are not allowed to use the phrase, "in short". Second, with the exception of the last sentence, none of this information is neccesary. The last sentense says how isolated Whitt is. Well guess what, I cheated and conveyed that in his conversation with my- made up chracter - "Rob", from above. Besides that, we only learn that Jason Sterling is mysterious and is who Whitt reports too. Those two things are established in the dialouge - more on that next post.

So, instead of the 4.5 minute exposition. Here is my completed rewrite. :

Langly Virginia - CIA Headquarters, October of 1 yr later.
Whitt got up from his cubicle. Jack, a fellow analyst, was scurrying past him.
Whitt: "Hi, Jack"
Jack: "Hi, Do... I know you?"
Whitt: "We worked on the Weinberger project last year"
Jack: "Oh... Whitt! I... I don't know why I didn't recognize you."
After small talk, Whit continued to his destination. A destination he'd gotten familiar with over the last twelve months.
Whitt saw Rob waiting for the elevator.
Rob: Hey buddy, coming to the poker game?
Whitt: No, I-
Rob: (imitation Whitt) No, I gotta work. Fine, have it your way. More winnings for me. Eight years later you're still the only one who can beat me.
The elevator doors are heard opening.
Rob: What are you up to? Are you even still on the Weinberger project?
Whitt: Yeah, when I have time. I just... got something else going on.
Rob: What?
The elevator doors are heard closing and the sound is heard in the background.
Whitt: Can't talk about it.
Rob: Right, you're all important and secret now..
Whitt: I didn't ask for the assignment, they just gave it to me.
Rob: At least tell who you're working for, It's that overpaid sector head, isn't it?
Whitt: (whispering) You really want to know?
Rob nodded his head and leaned in close.
Whitt: It's the Black Door Group.
Rob looked at Whitt
Rob: You mean... they're for real?
Whitt started chuckling.
By the time the elevator doors opened, they were both laughing with mouths wide open.
Rob: You jackass. You had me.
The elevator doors close.
Rob: (muffled) Someday I'll get you to tell me for real.
Whitt: (muttering) I just did, you didn't believe me.
Whitt put a key into a keyhole, turned it, and then entered a 4 digit code. The elevator began to descend, descend below the other floors, descend below the lobby, and below the basement levels. The elevator opened it's doors, but did not make the familiar "bell" noise when arriving at any other destination. Whitt stepped off the elevator and onto the hallway's linoleum floor. His penny loafers made a sound that echoed down the hallway, off the white walls, off the ceiling, and off the wall at the end. He walked past 11 doors and upon reaching the twelfth, he recounted the doors to make sure he was in front of the correct one.

Next time, We'll take a look at fixing some truly atrocious dialog. (Yes, even worse then what I wrote in this post)