Art & Craft: Save the Cat! Writes a Novel
Reviewing writing advice from Jessica Brody (in the style of Blake Snyder)
This post is part of Art & Craft, my series that reviews books about writing books.
Save the Cat! Writes a Novel by Jessica Brody was written as a companion (or adaption?) to the (infamous?) book on screenwriting by the late Blake Snyder. If you (a novelist like myself) have heard about this set of tools and are wondering whether you should pick up the original work or the novel edition, I posit the novel edition is worth it. You can leave Blake’s work behind. Allow me to jump into why…
Why I chose this book
This might be the original Love It or Hate It of craft books. I read the original Save the Cat a few years before I picked up this novel-writing version. I found the ideas compelling and relevant, but felt rather beat over the head with Blake Snyder’s “ironclad rules.” We get it, Blake, you think you’re a genius who’s cracked the code. But can you imagine if I treated my manuscript this way? “Love for this story is rooted in the DNA of mankind and if you don’t agree no one will ever take you seriously.”
When I started mentioning this book to my peers I realized this attitude had created two camps: people who have sworn off craft books and “formulas” for storytelling because this one left them with such a bad taste, and people who believe this is a helpful tool, but hardly the authors’ panacea. The copy cover on the book calls it “candid” and “funny,” but overall I think Blake Snyder’s claim of creating the definitive story structure undermined his success.
Now here I come along to try to reassure you, the novel edition (written 13 years later) is much better. Since the original book was released, novelists had been lifting the screenwriting principles for their own work. In this version, Jessica Brody has not only contextualized these tools for another storytelling format, but she addresses the criticisms of Blake’s assertions.
The highlights
This book could be read cover to cover, but could be equally valuable as a reference or even a creative writing course textbook. I observed three sections. The first two sections delve into character and the concept of story beats, the third tries to bring the receipts with a plethora of examples.
Character: What’s their deal?
This section distills two key elements of any plot: Each story is made up of events (the external things that happen) and the characters (the internal experiences of the people involved). Brody discusses at length how these elements should affect one another in your novel.
Beats: If they work for you.
Here lie the unpopular opinions: A list of the type of scene each book must have in order to work, according to Brody. She justifies these extensively, but if you’re allergic to prescriptive writing advice I’ve got a book for you to sneeze at.
Genre examples: So many examples!
The rest of the book introduces the idea of ten genres. And by “genre” she does not mean fantasy and science fiction–I would call them structural genres or story formats. But to her credit, Brody’s receipts are giving CVS energy. In the remaining chapters, she dives deep into each of these genres with dozens of examples as evidence. If nothing else, this book can give you a reading list if it helps you identify the type of story you want to write.
Finally, she closes with thoughts on how to use her genre ideas to develop a pitch for publication.
The cringe
As writers we are looking for a way to share our unique, lived experience. By spending months or years of your life on a book, you’re telling yourself and the world “This is what I find most interesting. This is what I find most valuable, This is what is true.”
And then imagine someone says, “Cool, but you’re not special, your story has already been told, it’s one of these, and if it’s not you should change it to fit this mold.”
That feels shitty. And though the tone is remarkably less arrogant than her predecessor, Blake Snyder, the concept in this book remains the same.
And, as I’ve alluded, Jessica Brody directly addresses this issue. She calls it the “F” word. Formula.
I understand the theory behind formulas, but let’s be honest. Who actually uses them? I also have many novelist peers. I don’t know anyone who fills in the blanks when trying to come up with ideas. This is nearly antithetical to the creative process. Are we going to get our outlines stamped and filed at the DMV?
Regardless, I have found a way to use this book and derive some value from its ideas. I consider the concepts of required beats and structural genres and a formula when I get stuck–and only when I get stuck. After my freewriting and untethered creative generation I like to take my mess of notes and organize them into the order they will appear in my manuscript. Then, I look at these formulaic theories and ask myself whether they contain any ingredients my narrative might be missing. Some I add to the pot, others I leave on the shelf. I don't resent them for being there, no matter who thinks they belong in my novel soup.
Star-ratings
How useful is this craft book?
2 out of 3 stars - ★★☆
How humble is this craft book?
2 out of 3 stars - ★★☆
How concise is this craft book?
3 out of 3 stars - ★★★
I didn’t want to deduct a full star for prescriptiveness, but the tagline “The Last Book on Novel Writing You’ll Ever Need” made me do it. I would argue this book comes off as more persuasive than prescriptive, but this still doesn’t mean it’s “the answer” to the challenges of literally every Work In Progress.
So if you can give yourself permission to take what you need and leave what you don’t, I think it’s worth $15.99 US / $21.99 CAN, if you’re able.