It doesn’t matter how confusing of a story you have, as long as you provide an explanation so the  reader can look at it and say “Aaaaahh I get it”. Otherwise, nobody will read your work. Here are a few ways you can get your reader to understand what they’re reading.

You can subtly spoon feed the reader with an explanation along the course of the story, like so:

I was being chased by the Ravagers, and they were gaining. Their hideously thin dog-like legs moved back and forth at incredible speeds, as the burning human-like eyes (on a human head, whichs contrast to the feral dog-like added to the fear the beasts inflicted on their prey) followed me, burning holes into my back. I continued running through the streets of New York City, but realized that I had made a terrible mistake. By going to a heavily populated city and attracting one herd of Ravagers, more would come. As if to confirm this suspicion, another herd of Ravagers came barreling toward me. I felt the blood rush out of my face, as I realized I was trapped.

You can have the narrator/main character explain it in a monologue:

My names Jerald. From age eight i could pick up, and fire, a gun, and from age twenty, I could battle the Empire like my old man. Given my suicidal tendencies, this was a dream come true. Not only could I exact revenge on those who had taken my family away from me, but hopefully I would die shortly thereafter, and leave this hell behind. It was the perfect plan, until I realized that the Empire had ways of installing fear in those who welcomed death. I realized this as I stalked the streets of my home-town, Santee, to find a man dressed in Empire uniforms blocking my way. It was dad.

And you could explain the story at the end. Basically identical to the monologue technique, except it occurs after everything’s happened (so if it were after the Monologue’s techniques example, it would probably be a monologue as the main character slowly bled to death next to his dad.)

These are just a few ideas, but they help. It’s much better to use the spoon-fed method, but the other two work just as well.

Thank you for reading. Feel free to comment, I especially welcome suggestions on other techniques, and please subscribe

Prologue

“I felt it, days before it came. I doubted it would be able to reach me. Enveloped in a sense of self-security, I ignored it. It didn’t feel, or, at least, before I was OverWritten, it’s presence didn’t feel characteristically evil. It just felt…there.

Two day’s before it took me, I heard it. It didn’t threaten me, didn’t say anything that struck fear in my heart, I just heard it’s whispers. The whispers were inside my head, or so I figured, as I went to my parents complaining that I was being haunted.

Twenty-Six hours before I Left, I could feel a strange sensation in the core of my body. It was the push of something from the outside, and the pull of something in me, as if there were two magnets inside me, each one desperate to come out. As the day went on, the push-pull feelings got stronger. As I lay in bed on the night I was Forgotten, I heard it speak. The voice was there, but not only was it in my head-it was as if the thing was right beside me. I felt something touch my shoulder, and I turned to look at it, but found my body was far away. The magnetic feeling in my chest was unbearable-I couldn’t breath. The worst part was I seemed to have two heartbeats-or two hearts inside of me. One-the one I could feel the most, so I believe it is mine, was beating strong and proudly, as a result of my exercise. The other wasn’t strong, or weak. It was there, too. I believe it was the beings heart.

I lay, struggling to breath, struggling to comprehend what was happening. The magnetic feeling was reversed-the part that was outside was in, the part that was inside was out. And there was this tear-oh a terrible tear, as I felt myself being ripped from my Earthly body, to become one of the Forgotten.”

I watched in horror as the memory replayed itself over and over, a terrible paradox of what ruined my life. As I saw it for the fourth time, I wept.

Any questions, comments, or concerns would be appreciated.

Their was only a very small portion of what used to be a highly trained (and, what the politicians cared about, lucrative) special-ops squadron remaining. 
        “Well, Well, Well, it seems as if I didn't eliminate all of you. Consider
it my, gift. Surrender, Please.” The Voice had won. They knew it. They put
their weapons on the ground. 
        “We surrender!” They all said, half crying, half yelling furiously, though regardless of their emotion, they did surrender. All of them were shooken from seeing their comrades die.
        “I'm glad that some of the Americans have half some wit. Come to the gray
building with the door open, if you will.” The Voice said, exercising
complete control over them. The soldiers did it without hesitation. All
except for one, who hesitated. The soldiers looked at him, a look of fear and anger, 
for if The Voice got mad at this soldier, they'd feel it's wrath. The man looked at them, shook his head, and ran.
        “Go! Run! You'll regret it if you alert anyone else!” The Voice spoke the
truth, if he told anyone, they would face the same fate that the squadron
had suffered.
        “But they'll know how strong you are! We'll kill you! I'll get you back
for killing Isaac.” The foot-soldier who was running cried, for Isaac was
his brother. 
        “If you are determined to kill me, give the U.S. Military my phone
number. We have our own phone service using...borrowed....satellites. The 
number is 89342851. WRITE IT DOWN.  89342851, got that? That way, I can
negotiate with your leader without having to send a messenger like you
every time. It'll be more convenient.” The Voice was negotiating terms of
release with the man, who was running desperately into the thicket. The man
continued to run until he had made it to the plane stationed outside of
Bethel. He was going to D.C. To tell them the bad news. The plane left
Bethel at 2:30 PM. 
        Herald arrived at Washington D.C. At 5:00 PM, the same day. He was beaten
up, but he wasn't as injured as his comrades, as to say, they were dead,
besides the small group of men that was being help prisoner by The Voice. 

IF you enjoy reading Little Threats, please comment and tell me what you think about it. Commments, questions, concerns, anything. ]]> http://storyz.org/2010/02/little-threats-pt-5/feed/ 0 http://storyz.org/2010/02/why-steven-king-makes-it-big/#utm_source=feed&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=feed http://storyz.org/2010/02/why-steven-king-makes-it-big/#comments Sun, 21 Feb 2010 20:04:44 +0000 ATP http://storyz.org/?p=16 Steven King is inspiring, to say the least. Not only can he formulate a really well written novel in a  matter of minutes, but he can write said novel in a matter of days. He is…inhuman. But sometimes, that just doesn’t cut it. He can write fast, and think hard, but what’s more than that is that he can conjure up what most people rather keep in the most dismal dungeon of their mind. Demonic beings like It (generally known as PennyWise the Dancing Clown), Cujo, Carrie, things that fascinate those with twisted minds, and pique the curiosity of those who don’t. But that leaves us with another question. If all of his stories have to do with death and fear, then why is Steven King so popular with the faint of heart?

Well, let’s break it down. To write a good novel, you generally need two things:

• Plot. You need a good plot. A good, new plot. It might just be me, but the plot in each Steven King novel, is a curse I must bear. The stories are so gruesome, so fear filling, yet the plot is so good, it’s as if the demon who possessed Cujo has you under it’s grip, forcing you to read. the plot twists also make it readable. Each plot twist adds to the story, making it more and more horrific.
• Characters. Like the famous kids from Phineas and Ferb have said, every body likes a good hero, but people love a good villain. Recently I’m reading It, and I have to admit, I’m almost eager to see who PennyWise’s next victim will be. The protagonists are always characters who seem human, contrary to many novels, and you can almost sympathize with them. Almost. But there’s a part of me that is eager to see if “so and so” will be eaten or dismembered by “so and so the so and so.”

Steven King does this, and more. In addition to writing well constructed novels, he’s written so many novels, it’s impossible not to fall in love with them. There’s horror, dark fantasy, really, nothing worth reading is left out!

If you like Steven King, or want to recommend another author for me to mumble on about, please comment. The comments will be read.