KayeDacus.com

Over the last week, I’ve been engrossed in reading a feature on Slate.com: Blogging the Bible: What’s Really in the Good Book. David Plotz, who is Jewish, not only went through Hebrew school as a child but attended a “rigorous” Christian high school where study of the Bible was mandatory. But when he picked it up as an adult and read the story of Dinah in Genesis 34, he realized he did not know as much about the Bible as he originally thought. So he decided he was going to read the entire Bible and blog about it as he went along.

Like Mr. Plotz, I grew up in church and attended a Christian school (in Jr. High). I also graduated from a Christian college where I was required to take three religion classes. One of the professors loved to challenge what the students knew/believed, so he had us examine some of the more bizarre stories related in the Bible. But even when confronted with stories I don’t understand, I’ve always approached the Bible—whether as a student or as a teacher—with a very strong doctrinal Protestant worldview.

I’m pleased to say I now have a new perspective on the Bible. Mr. Plotz’s series, aside from stripping away all doctrine and posing questions many of us “good church folk” would never consider asking for fear of sounding “un-Christian,” has helped me see the Bible as not just a collection of historical fact, mysterious and incomprehensive analogy and prophecy, and lots of verses that call songs and hymns to mind; I’ve started viewing it as a work of literature.

Now, I’m not by any means trying to get into the debate of how it was written, or what people believe about the process of its inspiration. I know what I believe and I’m not going to open up a can of theological/denominational worms.

What I am saying is—wow! What great stories! In reading these blog entries, I’ve seen the Old Testament through fresh eyes—and been reminded of the sometimes-cinematic quality of the episodes related. Remember the story of Michal helping David escape Saul’s murderous rage by putting a “household idol” in the bed to make it appear David was sleeping there? (Hello? Bueller . . . Bueller?) Or the fantastic suspense of the story of how General Sisera, enemy of the Israelites, escaped Barak and Deborah’s army only to be killed with a tent-peg to the temple by the woman Jael (Judges 4)?

Theology and denominational worldview aside, what has really struck me in seeing this fresh perspective on the Bible is how our identity as a culture—whether Jew or Christian—is founded on a tradition of story. Of plot, character, setting, theme, tone, and style. These are the kinds of stories that Israelites would tell sitting around the campfire—perhaps even the stories that Jesus heard—on the long trek to Jerusalem for Passover. These are the stories that Jesus discussed with the elders in the temple when He was only twelve years old. These are the stories that the disciples told each other on those long walks from town to town when Jesus sent them out two by two.

These are stories. Yes, I believe they truly happened. But I also believe that the Bible is a book that celebrates the creativity that God instills in each of us which some of us have turned to writing. Every genre is present:

Romance—Ruth, Song of Solomon
Chick Lit—Esther
Women’s Fiction—Sarah, Hannah, the woman at the well, Lydia, Mary Magdalene
Erotica—Song of Solomon
Poetry—Psalms, Ecclesiastes
Literary—the prophets
Historical—Ezra, Nehemiah, the Pentateuch
SciFi/Fantasy—Daniel, Revelation, Ezekiel
Action—Joshua, Judges, David & Goliath
Political Intrigue—I & II Samuel, I & II Kings, I & II Chronicles
Horror—Revelation
Children’s—Jonah, Zacchaeus, Jesus, David & Goliath, Baby Moses in the bulrushes
Mystery/Suspense—many of the David/Saul episodes, Judges, Jacob/Esau

I’ve probably missed several and you may quibble with me on if these really fit the categories or not, but I hope my point is clear. The Bible should stir and feed our creativity and imaginations as nothing else in the world can. God is Creator so He gave us the ability to imagine and be creative. It is incumbent upon those of us who want to please Him and who strive to be more like Him to not squander that gift, but to use it. To practice it every day. To hone it. To study it. And to commit it to His purposes.

Last night, I made a cranberry/pineapple relish, baked up a bunch of sweet potatoes, and got everything else prepared for today. Now, I have a sweet potato casserole in the oven, garlic mashed red new potatoes in a pot on the stove, stuffing ready to be mixed (yes, I went the Stove-Top route), and a roasted turkey leg (picked up in the deli section of Kroger yesterday) ready to be marinated in Creole Garlic Butter marinade and put in the oven to reheat.

Who am I cooking all of this for? For me. Yes, I’ll be eating leftovers for days to come. I know that most people are concerned when they find out that I spent Thanksgiving alone, but over the last couple of years, I have come to find pleasure in the solitude of the day—more so than just a break from work. Through cooking the food, watching the Macy’s parade, and enjoying one of the few large, mostly home-cooked meals I eat at home, I am reminded of all the things I am thankful for in my life—and part of that is my singleness. No, I don’t always enjoy being single, but today I focus on the positives. At Christmas, I will have nine days with my family, which more than makes up for not getting to see them at Thanksgiving.

I know that this time of spending Thanksgiving alone is just a season in my life. I hope one day to live close enough to my parents to be able to spend the day with them without putting a travel burden on any of us. I also hope one day to be married and to be able to share the reflection on blessings with my husband. Until then, though, I will enjoy my Singular Thanksgiving Day and pray that you and yours enjoy your day, filled with good food and loved ones and loads of blessings!

After giving us the three rules of subplots (connection, conflict, and range), Don Maass in Writing the Breakout Novel gives some steps on how to build subplots.

The first step he gives is to create a timeline of the main plot and the subplot. Then look for areas where they connect. More likely than not, he writes, you will probably find connections you didn’t realize were there which you can take advantage of to not only build the subplot, but to also add conflict and range to the main plot.

The second step he gives is to interweave the characters. Don’t give secondary characters just one role in the book—give them multiple roles. For example—have your heroine’s best friend be the doctor who has to tell the hero his father has died in an accident. Or your hero’s brother is the man who put the heroine’s father’s hardware store out of business by bringing in a big franchise chain-store. These connections don’t have to be revealed early—in fact connections like these are sometimes better left for an “aha” moment later in the story where it will create the most tension/suspense. (If you’re a fan of the TV show Lost, think about how all of the characters keep showing up in each other’s backstory—it’s almost a game to see who’s going to pop up in someone else’s “real world” life.) If you have a large cast of secondary and minor characters, look for those whose jobs you can combine into just one character and give that character a bigger role.

But something that can happen with character interconnectedness is a feeling that the relationship is contrived. You have to be able to justify to yourself and to the reader why the connection or interrelationship is there—to convince the reader through building realistic characters that this really could happen. That two men named Desmond and Jack could arbitrarily meet each other while running steps in a stadium one day and then three years later find themselves facing each other with guns in their hands down in a weird, psychological-experiment bunker on a seemingly deserted island in the middle of nowhere. (Have I mentioned I’m addicted to Lost?)

Third, if you are having trouble choosing characters to use for your subplot, look at the range of your main characters’ lives. Who is in their life from a different background or social stratus who can weave in and out and bring contrast and conflict to the story? Is there someone of a different “level” with whom your main character can change places—one experiences a sudden fall while the other a sudden elevation?

Fourth, be sure your subplot is not the same storyline as your main plot. Two Cinderellas in one story isn’t going to strengthen it if they both meet their princes and live happily ever after. Be sure your subplot provides some contrast to and conflict for the main plot. Remember the example in my first post in this series on the two subplots in Pride and Prejudice: Charlotte and Jane. Both provide contrast to Lizzy’s story—Charlotte’s story by challenging Lizzy’s ideals of romance, and Jane’s by challenging Lizzy’s trust in true love conquering all.

Finally, don’t let your subplot steal the show. Have you ever seen a movie where a minor character is either so charming, or so funny, or so intense that the scenes he’s in sparkle and the rest of the film falls flat? (Think Pumba and Timon in The Lion King or Chaucer in A Knight’s Tale.) You don’t want that to happen to your main plot. So, while having a well-developed subplot can be important, don’t spend so much time developing the subplot that your main story suffers.

Most of the time, a subplot will grow organically out of your main story. If not, your readers may not buy into your story if it seems forced or contrived. Remember, “When the characters are ready, the story will come out of me” (Jeff Shaara). Don’t force it. Just let it happen.

In the article “Put a Subplot to Work in Your Story” (The Writer, October 2006), Laura Yeager uses the example of the film The Wizard of Oz. The main plot: four misfits (a homeless girl, a brainless scarecrow, a heartless tin man, and a gutless lion) set out on one path (the yellow brick road) toward one goal (to have their “lesses” fulfilled). Much adventure and music ensues. No subplot right? According to Yeager, the subplot of Oz is Kansas—the bookends of the movie. When thinking of that movie, most of us usually remember the part in color with munchkins and witches—because that’s the main story and where we have the main conflict for the characters. But if it weren’t for seeing Dorothy at home and how much she yearned for adventure and excitement and to go “somewhere over the rainbow,” nothing that takes place in Oz would mean as much. Therefore, in this case, the subplot defines the motivation and goal for Dorothy. It gives value to her quest to return there even though in Oz, she seemingly has everything she’d wished for before.

I’ve recently adopted a quote by the writer of historical novels Jeff Shaara: “When the characters are ready, the story will come out of me.” In my case, this has been true with each of the manuscripts I’ve completed. The characters drove the story. It’s just a matter of coming up with the right characters in the right circumstances.

Developing a successful subplot depends mainly on choosing the right characters to work with. You do not have to incorporate additional POV characters to do this—one of your POV characters can be involved in the subplot. For example, in the movie Signs, the main plot of the movie (spoiler if you haven’t seen it) is about the impending invasion by hostile aliens, heralded by the crop circles in Rev. Graham Hess’s corn field. In a super-minor subplot (a conversation he has with two other people), we learn Graham’s younger brother Merrill was a minor league baseball player years ago with the record for most homeruns—and most strikeouts. “Felt wrong not to swing.” In what seems like another unrelated thread, we learn that Graham used to be a pastor but has fallen away from the church as a result of his wife’s accidental death. We see flashbacks throughout the story and eventually learn that the town veterinarian (a cameo by the film’s writer/director M. Night Shyamalan) fell asleep at the wheel and hit Graham’s wife on the side of the road, pinning her to a tree where she lingered long enough for Graham to arrive and speak to her. So what, we wonder, does this have to do with the hostile aliens who want to kill everyone? There is a touching scene of dialogue between Graham and Merrill about faith. We know that what happened in this subplot has affected the way our main character views the world. But it isn’t until the climax of the main plot, when the alien whose fingers Graham chopped off is holding the little boy about to kill him that we discover the significance of the subplot: as she spoke her final words, Graham’s wife gave him the solution. “Tell Graham to see . . . And tell Merrill to swing away.” Graham looks around the room and SEES the trophy baseball bat on the wall . . . and ding the subplot provides the resolution for the main plot. Graham repeats the words to Merrill, who then grabs the bat and does what he does best—swings it—eventually bringing about the demise of the alien.

In Writing the Breakout Novel, Don Maass spends a chapter on multiple POVs and subplots in which he gives some requirements for the development and use of subplots.

1. Subplots need to have a good reason for existing and should be interconnected with the rest of the story. He recommends looking for minor characters to use who are already close to the main character: family, friends, colleagues. He cautions against trying to use characters who are seemingly unrelated to the main story unless the connection will be revealed early on.

2. Subplots need to tie-in with and affect the main plot. If the subplot isn’t going to either help or hinder the ultimate resolution of the conflict of your main plot, it is just a rabbit-trail. So look for characters/subplot opportunities that can increase tension, create conflict, and raise the stakes for your main plot.

3. Subplots give you the opportunity to explore what Maass refers to as “range”: portraying a variety of experience. I had trouble understanding this until I related it to my own life. I don’t exist just as a copy editor for a small publishing house. I am a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a cousin. I am a member of a church in an area of town that is known for being well-to-do—but I don’t live in that area of town. I am a single, 35-year-old woman who is a happy member of a Sunday School class of married couples in their mid-40s and up. I sing in the choir. For the last six years, I’ve been a part-time student. I am former Vice President and current Educational Coordinator for the largest professional organization for Christian fiction writers in the world. Do you see where I’m going with this? If I were a character in a novel, looking at the range or full scope of my life there are several areas from which to pull interesting characters for subplots—family, coworkers, people at church, fellow college students, other ACFW officers or members, etc. We do not live in isolation—our characters shouldn’t either (unless that’s the plot of your novel!).

How many? Maass immediately follows these rules with the discussion of how many subplots to include. His take: “Two or three major subplots are about all that even the longest quest fantasies can contain.” Remember, the reason you’re writing your novel is the main plot. You don’t want to pull the reader’s attention away from it—except when it will build additional suspense. You also don’t want your readers to feel there are too many characters and so much going on that they can’t make sense of what your story is about.

So, look at your novel. If you feel you have too many subplots, determine which are rabbit-trails and which affect the outcome of the main plot. Focus on one or two and start exploring their merit. Do they connect, add complications, and extend the range of the main plot?

Subplots are the spices we add to the main plot. Just like food becomes inedible when too salty or not salty enough, using subplots in our novels is a delicate balance of adding enough to enhance but not enough to detract. Always keep in mind: your story is about your MAIN PLOT. Everything in it—characters, setting, subplots—is there to make it resonate with the reader.

I’ve lived on my own for a little more than ten years. Last year for the first time, I bought a little, pre-lit, 4-foot, artificial Christmas tree. Then, I had to decide how to decorate it. I had a small box of eclectic ornaments I could have used, but I really like cohesiveness and uniformity in the decorations in my home. So I chose to adorn it with glass balls in dark purple and gold (some shiny, some matte) with gold garland and a gold and white angel at the top. Some might find it boring, but I loved it. It was pretty, I liked to look at it, and it represented me—purple is my favorite color and in combination with gold reminds me of home (Baton Rouge where I spent every summer and eventually went to college at LSU. If I had a 10-foot tree, I would probably not do just two colors of glass balls. I would use all of my childhood ornaments and find others that represented me as well—because a large tree doesn’t look as unkempt or overwhelmed with a variety of shapes and colors. Subplots are much like Christmas ornaments (thanks, Donna Alice!). Imagine your story as a Christmas tree:

You have your story structure (the tree itself)—the conventional structure of your genre/your plot at its most basic form.

You have your main characters: The lights.

Then you start adding ornaments.

Setting: gold glass balls
External conflict for the POV characters: red glass balls
Internal conflict for the POV characters: green glass balls
Spiritual conflict for the POV characters: blue glass balls

If you have a “small tree” (a short story or novella), you are going to have a hard time fitting much more than this on your “tree.” Even in short category fiction, there isn’t really room for much other than the main plot involving two POV characters.

However if you have a “large tree” (a full-length novel), there is much more room to add more ornamentation:

Additional POV characters: the themed ornaments you’ve picked up everywhere you’ve ever traveled
Subplot A*: animated Hallmark ornaments
Subplot B**: all of those felt reindeer and Santa Clauses you made in G.A.s or Sunday School
Minor characters: tinsel and garland

*Subplot A—perhaps involves those additional POV characters and seems to be separate from the main plot but ends up having an effect on the story’s outcome.
**Subplot B—perhaps involving the antagonist and his schemes for derailing the main plot.

Do you have to put every single ornament on the tree? No. Nor do you have to explore every idea for a subplot you have. Have you ever seen a Christmas tree so overloaded with ornaments that you couldn’t see the tree nor the lights because of everything hanging on it? Have you ever seen a tree fall over because the weight either isn’t distributed properly or was just overwhelmed? You don’t want your novel to be like that overwhelmed tree. But you don’t want a Charlie Brown tree, either.

My WIP was like a tree starting to lean to one side because all of my ornaments were hooked onto the main plot. One of the first rules of developing a subplot is to take a minor character who is involved in his or her own plot and start writing that plot as well—interrupting the main plot when it will build the most suspense—all the while making sure it is relevant to the main plot.

I had a brainstorm yesterday. I’d written several chapters ago (in a desperate measure to try to stir up the story) that the hero’s mother and sister are coming to town. But it wasn’t until the sister, Charlotte (a name I chose long ago which I’m not sure I like any more), came on stage that I realized she was just the subplot I’ve been needing. I suddenly found myself not only writing in her POV, but seeing how she provides much of the plot and conflict for Book 2 of the trilogy, and becomes vitally important to the ultimate climactic conclusion in Book 3.

Next time: discovering the hidden subplots in your story and determining which to use and which to omit.

I’m having a really hard time with forward momentum with my WIP—not because it doesn’t have a strong plot, but because I don’t have anything to write about BUT the main plot.

So, over the next few posts, I’m going to be delving into subplots: what they are, how to write them, and how to make sure they’re well incorporated into the story so they don’t detract from the main plot, but enhance it.

In Plot Ansen Dibell writes:

Well handled, [subplots] can deepen the story’s context, offer ways to mirror or contrast with the main action, and be used in pacing to offer foreground motion while the main plot is in a temporary lull. When the main plot is busy, they can generate suspense when the narrative splits off to follow the subplot for a while before rejoining the main action, generally with added momentum and impact when they again converge.

Laura Yeager, in her article “Put a Subplot to Work in Your Story” (The Writer, October 2006) writes:

The subplot will either contrast with or run parallel to the main plot. For instance, say you’re writing a story about a woman who wants to get married and is looking for a husband. A subplot in this story might belong to a character who is through with men altogether. This contrasts with the main plot. Or, say you’re writing the same story about a woman who wants to get married. But let’s say her friend also wants to get married.
This plot could possibly run parallel to the main plot.

This example reminds me of two subplots in one of my favorite novels, Pride & Prejudice: Charlotte and Jane. Charlotte’s story—a woman marrying not for love but to avoid being a spinster for the rest of her life—contrasts Lizzy’s story:

“Engaged to Mr. Collins! My dear Charlotte—impossible!” . . .
“Why should you be surprised my dear Eliza? Do you think it incredible that Mr. Collins should be able to procure any woman’s good opinion, because he was not so happy as to succeed with you? . . . I am not romantic you know. I never was. I ask only a comfortable home; and considering Mr. Collins’ character, connections, and situation in life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state.” . . .
Elizabeth was then left to reflect on what she had heard. . . . She had always felt that Charlotte’s opinion of matrimony was not exactly like her own, but she could not have supposed it possible that when called into action, she would have sacrificed every better feeling to worldly advantage. . . . And to the pang of a friend disgracing herself and sunk inher esteem, was added the distressing conviction that it was impossible for that friend to be tolerably happy in the lot she had chosen.

If you are familiar with the story, you will remember that later, Lizzy visits Charlotte and Mr. Collins for six weeks and is surprised by how content Charlotte is with the life she has chosen. Mr. Collins is still as annoying as ever, but Charlotte has reconciled herself to her husband’s ways and is happy in the knowledge that she has a secure future. This contrasts with Elizabeth’s romanticism—especially since the first proposal from Darcy comes at the Collins’ cottage—who has sworn never to marry unless for love.

Jane’s story both parallels and contrasts Lizzy’s. Jane and Bingley openly fall in love while Lizzy and Darcy are antagonistic toward each other (although are also falling in love). Jane and Bingley are then torn apart because of the interference of his sisters and Darcy because they feel Jane isn’t good enough for him. Darcy, in the meantime, proposes to Lizzy in spite of his “sense of her inferiority—of its being a degradation—of the family obstacles which judgment had always opposed to inclination.” In this instance, the Jane/Bingley subplot provides conflict for the main plot, as it is Darcy’s part in separating Jane from Bingley that drives Elizabeth to not just decline Darcy’s proposal, but to do it in such a way as to make him change his ways and do what he can to save Elizabeth’s family’s reputation to redeem himself from his “ungentlemanly” behavior. At the end, after Elizabeth has accepted Darcy’s proposal, the two couples are once again contrasted, as the family gathers in the sitting room after dinner:

The evening passed quietly, unmarked by anything extraordinary. The acknowledged lovers (Jane and Bingley) talked and laughed; the unacknowledged (Lizzy and Darcy) were silent. Darcy was not of a disposition in which happiness overflows in mirth; and Elizabeth, agitated and confused, rather knew that she was happy, than felt herself to be so; for, besides the immediate embarrassment . . . she was aware that no one liked him but Jane; and even feared that with the others, it was a dislike which not all his fortune and consequence might do away.

Next time—with the help of some experts—I’ll look into how to develop a subplot.

Almost six years ago, I purchased a large journal—about 1-inch thick with 8½x11-inch, lined pages—and I started journaling. Then, three years later, I stopped. I had never been consistent about writing in it every day, nor about what or how I would write. Sometimes it would be a prayer—my heart crying out to God in a moment of deep loneliness or despair. Sometimes, it was a collection of random thoughts or observations I’d made that day or week. There are pages of brainstorming of characters or storylines along with “letters” to my future husband. Several entries, like September 11, 2001, were written purposely to record my thoughts and feelings that I would want to remember later. But, for some reason, I just gradually stopped writing it.

At the beginning of this year, I started writing this blog. While I have blogged about some personal things—my search for a church home, my last week of grad school—I’ve tried to keep this blog writing related . . . I really do not feel the need to share my inmost thoughts with the world.

As a single person who lives alone and doesn’t have a lot of really close friends with whom I talk at length or in depth, I have found myself at times longing for someone to talk to about my frustrations after a tough day; my hopes and dreams for my life; my struggles with loneliness and aloneness; my tendency toward depression and negative feelings; my excitement over successes in my writing.

This past weekend, I was rummaging in the cabinet beside my bed looking for something when I ran across this journal. Over the next couple of hours, I traveled back through those three years of my life—my growing discontentment with my job at the newspaper, my pain and decision to have back surgery, my anxiety over figuring out what I was going to do about graduate school (would I have to move? would I be able to find a program which would allow me to write the stories of my heart rather than the superficial nonsense called “literary”?). I actually got a few ideas for a character I’m developing by reading some of my more random thoughts and observations!

And it hit me.

As most of my entries included—even at a subconscious level—a prayer, this had been my outlet for having Someone to share my life with. So I’ve made a commitment to myself to start journaling about things that I need to express to Someone—and things I can’t post here like religion and politics so I don’t scandalize my loyal readers☺—or brainstorming story ideas, odd or unusual things I observe around me, my struggles, my hopes and dreams.

Do you journal? Why? Do you ever go back and re-read them years later? Or once you write it, do you put it out of your mind? And do you ever allow yourself to wonder if, in 200 years, people will be studying your journal in high school or college courses the way we now read the letters and diaries of people like politicians, authors, or historic figures?

As promised, let’s do some brainstorming with some “random” images (random only in the fact that I’m hoping you’ve never seen them before).

What does this image make you feel? Who is this person? What year is it? What is she thinking? What emotion is portrayed in this image? Where is she? What is the weather like?

What is going on in this image? Who are these two men? Where are they? What is their relationship to each other? Now, imagine these two are characters in your story. What’s the setting? What is going on between them? What is being said as this “snapshot” was taken? What will happen immediately after this? Is one the good guy and one the bad guy? How will what’s happening in this moment influence the rest of the story?

What has just been said to her? What is she in the middle of saying? What emotion is she feeling? Where is she? What kind of person is she? What’s going to happen next?

Who is he? What is he in the middle of? What is he thinking about? What’s about to happen? Where is he? What kind of family does he have? Is he married? Does he have children? If so, what kind of relationship does he have with them?

I would love to know what you come up with!

Hopefully by answering some or all of those questions by looking at images of “random” RWTs, once you cast your characters, you will be able to find and use images of them to help you build your characters and brainstorm ideas for your story.

If you have any questions or additional information you’d like me to discuss on this subject, please leave me a comment!

(There are lots of links in this segment. You may want to right-click on them and choose to open them in a new window so you don’t have to keep navigating back to this page.)

Once you have cast your characters and begun the process of collecting images, you may find yourself thinking of scenes inspired by the images you see. Just like there are two ways to cast characters (see BYOCD: Introduction), I employ two methods of collecting images—those that seem to fit with the actions or emotions of scenes I’ve already written, and those that generate ideas for potential scenes.

A few weeks ago, when I was blocked with my writing but wanted to spend time in that world and with those characters, I started creating chapter-by-chapter storyboards, utilizing images of characters and settings to give a snapshot of each major scene in the chapter. With minor secondary characters, I stuck with their primary “headshot” image. For Julia, William, Sir Edward, Lady Witherington, and—to a lesser extent—Susan and Collin, I sought out images (or screen captured them from DVD) that conveyed the major driving emotion of the scene. Here is the post where I linked to the first three chapters’ storyboards with a brief synopsis of the chapter. (Side benefit to this exercise: a skeleton chapter-by-chapter synopsis ready to be filled in with a little more detail should an editor request it!)

Brainstorming with RWTs
It isn’t just after the fact that I put my RWTs to work for me. When I first started brainstorming this story and collecting images of Paul McGann for William, I came across two expressions that I screen capped. They became the inspiration for the first scene of the novel where William is introduced, simply from the subtle shift in his expression from one image to the other. By examining the RWT’s facial expression, I began wondering what William would be thinking if he wore that expression. Click here to see the images and read the results.

(This is really much easier to do in a classroom environment, but hopefully you’ll stick with me!)

Let’s look at some images I haven’t used but that have given me ideas and possibilities of emotion or action I can use.

Next time . . . a guided brainstorming session using RWTs.