Have you ever written a fanfic character into a situation where you could not think of a believable way to get them out?
I try not to because I realize doing that to myself tends to make it obvious that I did it to myself when someone else does it. That is, if I wrote myself into a corner, realized it, and actually
tried to dig my characters out of a situation, my audience usually can tell. (Mostly because they usually can tell if I pull something out of my rear in general.)
So, whenever I prepare to write about a situation, I try to plan it out the end as soon as I do the beginning. That way, I can easily see where I want to go and work through it as logically as possible so the two ends can connect as neatly as I can get them to do so. As in, once I can picture
exactly how the ending should be, I can work backwards to the beginning to see just how the domino effect falls. That way, when I sit down to write, it's just a matter of working back through the path I've just walked up in my head.
I never believed in that crap.
Even if it just means setting a goal for yourself?
What's your favorite literary technique? If you're implementing it into your story, how are you doing that?
Looking through the list, I'll have to agree with you about Chekhov's gun. Mostly, it's because I'm of the E.A. Poe school, where one of the rules is that no word should go into a work that won't be used in some way to add to the overall effect. In other words, literally, if you're going to put a gun on the mantelpiece in the first act, it had better be shot by the third. (Yes, Poe mostly said this in reference to the short story, but I love it when authors can make it apply to
any work. It makes the reader think about every last detail the author brings into the story, and it comes as a pleasant surprise when they're suddenly reminded of those details later.) To answer the second question while applying this technique, Midsummer Knights uses it repeatedly, some instances more obvious than others. For example, the mystery package I seemingly forgot about in chapter seven will be brought up again soon, as will Viola's eyes.
That isn't, of course, the only technique I like. My other favorites (although it was a tough decision because I like so
many of these techniques) are as follows:
1. Foreshadowing. Sure, when someone screws up with foreshadowing, it tends to be pretty obvious. However, when it's done correctly, it can come out awesomely in that it evokes essentially the same feel as Chekhov's gun (for good reason, as the latter is pretty much the former anyway). As for answering the second question, I'd think that the description of Chekhov's gun is sufficient enough. I mean, if you're going to do Chekhov's gun, you're pretty much doing foreshadowing anyway. It's just that foreshadowing can be so much more on top of that, like a single line spoken by a character that the reader passes off as unimportant.
2. In medias res. I think I'm overly fond of this technique, if only because it forces the reader to jump right into the action of the story, rather than waste time building up to it. If done right, I've noticed that it has the potential to start the story off on a dramatic note and leave the reader wondering just what's going on. Unfortunately, I tend to fail miserably at this instead but insist on doing it in nearly every short story I write. *shrug*
3. Irony, particularly dramatic irony. Because, really, nothing says twisted like walking a character off a metaphorical (or possibly literal) cliff without having them know it. Unfortunately, I can never get the same feel out of writing irony compared to when I read it (for obvious reasons), so I just don't employ this technique that often.
4. Self-fulfilling prophecy. While I enjoy the unexpected, sometimes, watching the way the expected turns out to be almost inevitable is just as enjoyable. (This is why I actually enjoyed reading
Macbeth.) Unfortunately, I haven't really had the opportunity to play with this technique fully, and any attempt I've made so far are mostly implicit. (If it counts, "So the World Turned to Ash" might be an example. I won't go into too much detail about it except that it becomes incredibly obvious partway through.)
5. Unreliable narrator. As I've said before, I'm very fond of the unexpected in a story (or at least moments where things are not
explicitly expected), and to lead the audience into believing the narrator is giving them the entire story only to reveal at the end that it's only
part of the story (or not even relevant at all) just feels like the ultimate trick up the author's sleeve, so to speak, especially considering the fact that the voice in a written work people tend to trust the most
is the person who's telling the story to begin with. Like with #4, I haven't really been able to use this in a written work as fully as I want to. The only time I've ever really dappled with this idea was in a poem of mine that isn't even online. (Maybe I'll post it later.)
