Roz Morris's Blog, page 100

Don't tell us she's special. Show us

You know one of the best ways to irritate someone? Keep telling them how wonderful a person is who they don't know – and never say why. 'She's so lovely.' 'She's great.' 'She's terrific.' Result? After a while, you think 'she' is anything but.

I've been reading a novel where the author has been doing exactly this. The main character has been separated from a girl he has fallen in love with, and for long periods is wondering if he'll ever see her again. The author did a grand job of setting up the romance earlier. The problem was when he was separated from her and the yearning began.

Tell me again, I can't bear it

We have endless screeds of 'he loved her so much'. 'She had a certain something.' (What did she have? Three ears?) 'He felt a pain whenever he thought of her.' (In what way was he thinking of her?') It was unsatisfying, empty – and pretty soon very irritating.

Why? Readers (in general, not just heartless old me) don't like being told what to feel. We want to feel it too. Or we actually react the other way. (Which is fine if that's what you want. In this book it wasn't the case.)

Besides, it's not truthful. Perhaps that's why we resent it, because it seems empty and insincere. When someone's really missing their dear one, they don't remember their summary of the emotion. They'd get an exquisite flashback of the time they got lost together walking back from the bus stop in the pitch dark. They'd find themselves snagged by faces in a crowd, because their foolish brain was saying 'wouldn't it be lovely if she was there'.

Show not tell

This is, of course, showing, not telling. And it's so powerful. Showing makes the reader feel what the character feels. It casts a spell of experience. It is not analytical. It is not a summing-up. It presents the truth and lets the reader make up their mind.

Show not tell is one of the hardest things for a writer to remember. The example that provoked this post is actually from a published novelist of otherwise impeccable accomplishments. Show not tell requires the most imaginative effort and all the writers I know slip unintentionally from time to time.

Why is it so hard?

I've often wondered why this is. Maybe it's because our analytical brain is saying 'in this scene he missed her' and it's easy to write that. Showing it means we have to submerge into the character's experience – which isn't always easy. But showing intimately what a character feels is one of the most gripping things a writer does. Good writing isn't words. It's an experience. And experience is not analytical.

Don't write the analysis. Write the experience.

Let's play a game. Find an example you like and leave it in the comments – and afterwards show how you'd squash it flat by telling instead of showing. I'll kick off.

'Once he had been strong enough to lift a carousel horse in each arm. That was a long time ago.' Mitch Albom, The Five People You Meet in Heaven. Telling version: 'He used to be so strong'.

Take it away, guys

Thanks for the pic Philip Morton

How long should a book be? Just right – guest post at Do Authors Dream of Electric Books

I don't do waffle. We magazine sub-editors are Jedis of the delete key. We fillet flabby stories until they're sharp and focussed. We know readers are busy and we don't tolerate anyone who takes five paragraphs to explain something when one will do. I've always felt that books should be as long – or short – as the material deserves, but economic considerations have often forced authors to pad or to curtail artificially.

So today I'm at Authors Electric, happy to celebrate the emancipation of length… and the book that is, like Goldilocks's third porridge, just right.

Why playing safe in publishing is riskier than ever

I tweeted this piece yesterday by agent Jenny Bent : 'Why reader taste differs from publisher taste'. I urge you to read the whole article, but briefly, she's talking about what's wrong with the way the industry tries to second guess what readers should be offered – whether literature or popular fiction. A friend on Twitter came back to me and said 'come come, surely it can't be that bad?'

Jenny's in the US, and I'm on the other side of the Atlantic. But here, it is indeed that bad.

I know a few agents, and they're tearing their hair out. An agent recently told me 'editors in big publishers are basically readers for marketing departments'. Another said in the past year she'd got more than 10 excellent books to editorial board, with all the editors staunchly behind them, but marketing vetoed them. An editor I know – very senior in terms of job title and the publisher she works for – laments that she is no longer allowed to accept the rich fiction she loves to read and has to publish shallow sure-fire supermarket titles.

Jenny says books are that too quirky or defy comparison don't get a chance. Again, that's the same here.

The interesting and popular authors I like wouldn't, I'm told, get published if they were starting today. Especially not with their most ambitious work. David Mitchell would be told to take Cloud Atlas away and keep it on his hard drive. Kingsley Amis wouldn't be allowed to hop between genres. Michael Morpurgo wouldn't be allowed to write a non-genre novel about horses. Holes by Louis Sachar? Forget it. And David Almond's Skellig. Readers seem to like them, though. They still buy them.

It's the big monolithic publishers I'm talking about here. They were a good model five years ago but they're breaking down because they can't take the interesting books. But the smaller boutique publishers are a different matter. They can – and are being – much more adventurous. The economist Tim Harford has in fact written an entire book on this subject (Adapt: Why Success Always Starts With Failure), about how you cannot prevail in today's business environment without a willingness to experiment and take risks.

One of the things that's so nice about Jenny Bent's piece is that she pays tribute to the self-published writers who are getting out and finding their readers. That's something we're not hearing enough of. Some self-published authors I know who've been to conferences recently felt like they were about to be chased away with pitchforks.

Reviewers, who you'd think were less restricted, haven't yet caught up with the fact that quality, competent, worthwhile authors are self-publishing. The theory goes that this is because journalism is funded by advertising and indies don't buy expensive adverts. Whatever the reason, this industry needs to find a way to give good self-published writers a fair chance at creating a decent and widespread reputation.

But there's no point in negativity, and ending on a whinge. The other thing I'd like to say is that the agents, editors, and publisher sales forces I've met are all book lovers too. It's just their end of the business that's broken. Thankfully, as Jenny points out, we're all now building a new one.

(Thanks for the picture, Frankh)

Rant over. Do continue in the comments if you feel so inclined…

'This uncanny, heartrending and deeply disturbing sound' – Catherine Czerkawska on The Undercover Soundtrack

'Which came first? The change in the book or the change to the music of the book?' When novelist and award-winning playwright Catherine Czerkawska embarked on a search for the truth of her characters, she found it in raw, traditional Irish folk songs. Bird of Passage is the novel, and Catherine is my guest on The Undercover Soundtrack – over at the red blog

A foolish inconsistency – round out your characters with contradictions

Think about the people you know. Who are you are most curious about?

It's not the ones who are most straightforward, although they are probably the easiest company. It's the enigmas. The ones you can't pin down, who dance to their own drum.

Consider the guy who's gruff and abrasive when you talk to him, but surprises you by being fiercely loyal to his friends. Or selfish most of the time, but generous to a fault with a few special people.

More extremely, they might have an edge that makes it difficult to truly know them. Perhaps it's a seam of aggression that unexpectedly comes out in a harmless discussion. They have secret buttons you don't discover until you push them.

This crowd make great central characters.

It's war

To observers, they may seem inconsistent. On the inside of them, it's war. They feel strong one minute, undermined the next. Humbert Humbert in Lolita loves his own good looks, or is shy, or full of self-loathing. He probably doesn't even make sense to himself.

They might feel the world is too small for them, but some complex equilibrium keeps them that way. There might be comedy from a character who complains their town is too dull, but won't kick up a gear – like the Little Britain character   who complains about – and revels in – being the only gay in the village.

Or they might be headed for tragedy. Frank in Richard Yates's Revolutionary Road  feels he should be more than a suburban office worker. His wife hatches a plan for them to start a new bohemian life in France, but he gradually gets cold feet and starts scheming to stay. He makes like he's in jail, but if you gave him the key he wouldn't use it. But his wife will fight tooth and nail to get out.

Contradictory characters might sabotage themselves. Sheba in Zoe Heller's Notes on a Scandal  also has a sense that something is missing, despite her comfortable, married life. So she begins an affair with a pupil at the school where she teaches.

Likability

Contradictory characters might not be liked by the reader – but likability doesn't keep us reading as much as interest does. In Revolutionary Road, Frank's contradictions are going to keep us curious. What will he do and how will he justify it? (But our sympathies have to go somewhere, so the author makes sure we feel for his poor, trapped wife.)

What it's not

Here's something that isn't a character contradiction: Indiana Jones's fear of snakes. It's certainly fun and it humanises a brave chap, but it's no more than a physical challenge and has limited potential to cause him trouble. True character contradictions affect life choices, relationships, or make people do things that get them into trouble.

Contradictions at a simple level can round out a character so they aren't a cardboard cut-out. But the deeply conflicted are story time-bombs.

Thanks for the pic, heyjoewhereareyougoingwiththatguninyourhand

I haven't forgotten I owe you a post about blog design, paid-for themes, self-hosting and SEO. But I thought it had been too long since I tackled a meaty writing subject. Fear not, I will be posting more about blogging in the next week or so. And in the meantime, tell me…

How do you use contradictory characters? Do you have a favourite in fiction?

'I needed the plangent, plaintive music of the 12th century to understand Hugo's pain' – Katherine Langrish on The Undercover Soundtrack

We're getting medieval this week on The Undercover Soundtrack. My guest is Katherine Langrish, the acclaimed author of several fantasy novels for children and young adults, including the Troll Fell trilogy. She says she usually has to write in silence – but her latest novel, Dark Angels (The Shadow Hunt in the US), didn't come alive until she found her way to the 12th-century troubadour songs of southern France. Pull up a chair to the red blog and let her spin you a magic, medieval tale.

A performance dress: why a precious scene had to go – guest post at Creative Flux

This dress is special. It belonged to my great-aunt. It's silk velvet, probably 1930s. Soft as a foal's pelt, red as claret. It clings like cobweb but is now too fragile to wear. I was so happy to give it a new outing – with a few alterations – in a scene for My Memories of a Future Life.

Then later, with my ruthless editing head on, I cut the whole scene.

I'm at Creative Flux today, a blog curated by Terre Britton -painter, designer, illustrator, owner of Terrabyte Graphics, VP of marketing at Sirius Press, Inc and co-author of Energetics: The First Order, the first of a four-book sci-fi-thriller series. She asked me to talk about my creative process – and why I cut that precious scene.

Do you have a precious scene you had to say goodbye to? Why was it hard to let go?

Your new writing blog: avoid these faux-pas

Last post I discussed fitting blogging into your schedule. Today, I have a list of common problems with new blogs.

No sidebar

You need a sidebar – a narrow margin down the right-hand edge of the page. For all the stuff I'm going to tell you about in the rest of this post. Yes, the right – it's easier on the eye. And one only. That's easier too.

No picture of you

Published books include a picture of the author and blogging is even more personal. We want to know what you look like. And not a cartoon or one of those weemee avatars. Don't be bashful. Use a photograph.

No email

If you're worried about spam and your blog platform doesn't offer an easy email form, write your email address so that bots won't recognise it – see mine in the sidebar.

No other places to find you

If you're on Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads, Google Plus, put your profiles in the sidebar. Okay, I haven't featured Google Plus even though I'm on it, but I haven't a clue what I'm doing there. If you contact me on Google Plus you won't get any sense out of me. And I keep wanting to call it Circles.

Hidden Twitter handle

Twitter is one of the best ways to share posts. Once I joined, my readership rocketed.

I retweet a lot of posts and like to credit the source, so my followers have the option to follow the original author as well. But I'm less keen to credit if I have to hunt every line of a sidebar to find an ID.

On some blogging platforms, you can include your Twitter handle as part of your username (like I have). And while we're at it…

Leaving your user name as 'admin'

Blogs are personal. Even if every post is written by you, readers prefer to see your name, not the default 'admin'. It's easy to change if you hunt around in settings for your username. And add your Twitter handle.

Not putting an internal search box

If readers are looking for something, they don't want to guess where you might have posted about it. Give them a search box.

Not enabling comments

Most blog designs allow comments by default, indeed it's hard to turn them off. But in the last couple of days I found my way to two new blogs and wanted to let them know I'd enjoyed their posts. Even though they asked in the signoff for comments, there was no way to do so! Make sure comments are enabled.

Not including subscription info

Not everyone wants to type your URL each time, or even come to your site. Lots of people like to keep up with blogs in a reader or by email. Don't miss out on them.

Leaving the blog untended

As I said in my previous post, blogs need to look inhabited. If I come across your blog and see you haven't posted for a month or so, I wonder if you've abandoned it.

No one minds if you unplug to get on with other stuff, so long as you let people know you'll be back. In summer I took time away to finish edits on My Memories of a Future Life, so I left a 'gone fishing' notice.

Using hard-to-read designs

Some design themes are over-colourful, or light text on a dark background. These might work well for illustrative blogs, but are murder to read if most of your content is text. The trouble is, they look so tempting. I fell in to this trap when my self-hosted blog got hacked and I moved (long story). I went skipping around the WordPress wardrobe and picked something that looked groovy. Oh it was yummy. It went with my hair. You were all really nice about it too. But a few brave souls pointed out it was a migraine to read. The good news is, it was easy to change.

Next time I'll look at blog design in more detail, including customising, bought themes and an extremely brief discussion of hosting options.

In the meantime, if you're a seasoned blogger, what faux-pas did you commit when you started? Are there any you didn't, but you notice on others?

How I get time to blog as well as write

I've had this question from Cindy Richard: I have been toying with starting a blog because I would like to have a platform when I finally finish my novel. I am worried about having the mental energy for it, since I have a full-time job and am deep into writing my first novel. I have a great idea for how to focus my blog and what to write, but I am worried about starting it and then having it fizzle out because I don't have the energy to give my best. Do you have any suggestions for making it more manageable starting out?

Great question. Here are my tips to make sure your blogging resolution doesn't end up a sad forgotten thing, like December's festive trees blowing down a January pavement.

Treat blogging as part of your writing work

You've probably got a routine for your writing – or you wouldn't have got so far with your novel. Carve a little of that off for blogging. You can't possibly steal more hours from the other things you have to do, so take it from your writing time.

I designate a day a week on which I am allowed to do blogging tasks – including posts, guest posts elsewhere, scheduling Undercover Soundtrack pieces. Even though those are written by guests, they are fiddly to publish. This all takes time and you need to schedule it properly so you make a good job of it.

Write a ton of posts in advance?

It's not a bad idea to have posts prepared, but some people schedule months of them and leave the blog to fend for itself. I wouldn't recommend that because when they end you'll have to interrupt your writing schedule to cue up a load more – and that's painful. It's better to get into a regular routine.

If you do cue in advance, be prepared to rejig if you spot a trend you could post about. Often these gain more hits, more readers and more discussion.

Whatever else you do, answer comments ASAP. Blogs have to look alive and responsive – readers like contact and conversations.

Keep blogging time in check

Blogging is addictive. I could spend endless hours on design fiddles, tweaking widgets – as is probably evident in my greedy number of blogs (you've already seen this red one, and there's also my website). It's even worse when your blog is oh-gosh shiny and new. Aside from answering comments, don't let yourself do blog stuff on other days.

Prevent blogging burnout

Many people start a blog and then find they run out of ideas. Find something you can genuinely talk about forever and you'll never run dry. But more importantly…

Short is better

A lot of new bloggers try to cram too much into one post. Posts don't have to be the definitive, exhaustive essay, unlike articles or reports outside of the blogoverse.

Nor does that make blog posts superficial. You can still be brilliant, useful, provocative, evocative – whatever you like – in 500 words or so.

And computer screens aren't the easiest medium for reading – another reason why shorter posts are better.

If you think you can split a post in two, nobody minds that. The more times people come back to your blog, the more familiar they get with your blog furniture, your writing voice. That's why people have favourite newspapers – they know where to find what they want, quickly.

And as I've already gone on too long, I'm going to take my own advice. I've got a list of fledgling bloggers' mistakes – but that's for another post.

In the meantime, tell me – how do you make time for blogging?

 

'Music that certain men might like but rarely admit to' – Matthew Dicks

My newest guest on The Undercover Soundtrack is novelist Matthew Dicks. His latest release, Unexpectedly, Milo, centres on a road trip – and Matthew's playlist informed not only the outward journey but the inward arc of his character. Departing from the red blog, and bring your own travel sweets.