Writing Mastery 1, Assignment 6: Argument
Congratulations, we’ve now covered some basic “clarity” issues, but telling stories require more
than just clarity. So I want you to work on some new skills.
We’re trained from the time that we are children not to argue. I think that that is why, in
looking through stories by new writers, I see very little in the way of argument. Yet people with
strong convictions face opposition every day.
So let’s brainstorm about argument scenes for a moment.
In most cases, people who are going to clash will argue. In other words, before we try to kill
someone, before we come to blows, verbal exchanges almost always take place. In some cases,
these arguments might take place in the form of negotiation.
However, in stories, the argument scene often doesn’t accomplish much. Often, an argument
can be found when one takes on a diplomatic mission. But in the movie Avatar, after Jake Sully
has failed to get the Omaticaya to evacuate their homes, Colonel Quaritch says, “Well, well,
well. I'd say diplomacy has failed.” In stories, diplomacy nearly always fails. But it’s an
important first step as characters try to take peaceful steps to resolve problems, discuss their
own points of view, and suggest solutions. (In real life, diplomacy often works just fine!)
Sometimes our arguments are structured, where, for example, one person might try to argue
that this or that course of action is superior to another, giving good reason for his beliefs. In
other cases, arguments are simply disagreements based upon strong emotional convictions,
and they may be little more than shouting matches—loud, inarticulate, and angry—usually with
ample name-calling.
So depending upon what type of person your protagonist is, the argument may take different
shapes and styles.
Usually, two people who argue will each believe themselves to have the superior stance. But
antisocial people will often pose arguments simply to justify a reprehensible course of action.
Thus, thieves will often argue that they deserve their ill-gotten gains. I’ve heard rapist killers try
to justify their actions by saying, “She deserved it.”
In some arguments, people actually listen to each other, while in others they shout, never
paying attention to what the other is saying, struggling only to drown the other out. For
example, in the movie The Sound of Music, there is a great argument between Maria and the
Captain over the children singing. Both of them talk with raised voices, but neither one of them
is listening to the other.
Very often, arguments conclude with threats of violence. Usually these threats are
accompanied by some de-humanizing remark, name-calling, which seems to be almost
necessary for the human psyche before we resort to violence. As a prison guard I noticed that
every time one man tried to kill another, he always dehumanized the victim first, calling the
target a “punk,” or a “queer,” or some other name.
An argument of course can take place between two or more people, but it can also be internal.
Most often, internal arguments are simply portrayed as a character trying to think his or her
way through a dilemma, but it can be far more intense. Consider Gollum’s argument with his
alternate personality, Smeagol, as he tries to decide whether to kill the “nice hobbit” Frodo.
Don’t forget that arguments can take place between friends or lovers. Thus, two men who are
on a quest to perform the same feat might argue over how best to proceed.
So your assignment is to write an argument scene for your story. Look for a place where an
argument would occur naturally in your tale, then add it in.
However, there a couple of rules.
1) The argument must escalate during the course of the exercise. The combatants might
seem on the verge of agreement, but the argument must then become more heated
than before.
2) The argument cannot be resolved. Characters may strike out, swear, or walk away mad,
but your goal in writing early in your stories is to leave conflicts unresolved. In fact, in
some ways, the situation should be made worse, more intolerable, by the cruel things
that are said.
3) I want to see a change in your viewpoint character as a result of the argument. The
change might be something simple—a person that he thought was a friend is revealed
to be an enemy. Or perhaps your character decides upon a new course of action, or
discovers the “real” reason why he insists on doing what he is trying to do.
4) Last of all, write this scene in deep penetration. In other words, I want you to use
internal dialog. You might have your character thinking about objections that aren’t
expressed, discovering things that he doesn’t reveal, wanting to make threats that he
wouldn’t speak, and so on. In short, I want the emotion to boil out from your viewpoint
character!
Here are some examples of arguments:
“Where were you?” asked Bonzo.
Ender stood stiffly by his commander’s bunk. “Practicing in a battleroom.”
“I hear you had some of you old Launchy group with you.”
“I couldn’t practice alone.”
“I won’t have any soldiers in Salamander Army hanging around with Launchies. You’re a
soldier now.”
Ender regarded him in silence.
“Did you hear me, Wiggin?”
“Yes, sir.”
“No more practicing with those little farts.”
“May I speak to you privately?” asked Ender.
It was a request that commanders were required to allow. Bonzo’s face went angry, and
he led Ender out into the corridor. “Listen, Wiggin, I don’t want you, I’m trying to get rid
of you, but don’t give me any problems or I’ll paste you to the wall.”
A good commander, thought Ender, doesn’t have to make stupid threats.
Bonzo grew annoyed with Ender’s silence. “Look, you asked me to come out here, now
talk.”
“Sir, you were correct not to place me in a toon. I don’t know how to do anything.”
“I don’t need you to tell me when I’m correct.”
“But I’m going to become a good soldier. . .I’m going to practice with the only people
who will practice with me, and that’s my Launchies.”
“You’ll do what I tell you, you little bastard.”
[Ender] could see Bonzo’s anger growing hot. Hot anger was bad. Ender’s anger was
cold, and he could us it. Bonzo’s was hot, and so it used him.
“While you’re in Salamandar Army, you’ll obey me.”
“If you try to control my free play, I can get you iced.”
It probably wasn’t true. But it was possible. . . . “Bastard,” said Bonzo.
“It isn’t my fault you gave me that order in front of everybody,” Ender said. “But if you
want, I’ll pretend you won this argument. Then tomorrow you can tell me you changed
your mind.”
“I don’t need you to tell me what to do.”
—From Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card
I’m so used to being Mom’s daughter, I defend myself.
“I meant to get in touch,” I say.
“You meant to, you meant to!” Mom pulls the sash of her robe tight and ties it in a knot.
“That’s just great. Here I am, sick as a dog, and you’re off. . .”
“I was working at Bearpaw Lake State Park.”
“Having fun!” Mom shouts. “At some park.”
“But you left first.”
“That’s right, blame me.” Mom turns to Dayton. “It’s my fault she walked out on her
grandmother of course.”
“Now don’t get yourself all upset,” he says. “When you calm down, you’re going to be
glad to see Ray.”
“I thought something happened to you!” Mom screamed at me. It’s the worst thing yet
she’s said.
“A lot you’ve cared.” I’ve got my second wind. “You could come for your box of pills
from Charlene, but not for me.”
That stops her. “How did you know it was pills?”
“And all that time, here you are, not ten miles away. Don’t tell me about leaving.”
“She has no heart!” Mom appeals to Dayton. “She wants to hurt me, sick as I am.”
“You tried that on Dad and it didn’t work.” I’m mad beyond the bounds of what’s fair.
“You’re not sick.”
But of course she is. I see it the minute the words are out of my mouth. . . .
“You’re just like him,” she says to me in a voice tied to a rock. “In every way.”
—from A Yellow Raft in Blue by Michael Dorris