Beem Weeks's Blog, page 10
July 14, 2013
Dialogue Challenges
Dialogue. It can make or break a story. Dialogue is the lines your characters speak aloud in a written story. They differ from the narrative voice in that even the peripheral characters are given a voice through dialogue.
Writing lines for your characters is not always an easy task--though it doesn't have to be difficult, either. In real life, people speak in ways that may seem impossible to capture on paper. Consider the varying dialects within the same languages. British English has its own patterns and words that differ from American English or the Aussie brand of the language. (And that's not even counting the varying dialects within the same country.) A skillful writer should be able to illustrate that, of the three characters conversing in the opening scene of chapter seven, two are from England while the third is from Australia--without mentioning this every time they speak.
If the writer can hear those voices in his/her head, they should be able to drop in little vocal hints within the written dialogue that give life to the characters and to the stories they tell. But it's not always easy.
When writing my novel Jazz Baby, I had to research the era (1920s) and the region (deep south, USA) in order to capture the voice of , not just my narrator, but of each and every character that utters a line in the story. Some were Louisiana Cajun. They spoke with a twang, had a particular way of saying things, which is not always easy to put onto paper.
Or how about Neesie, the young laundry girl, who befriends the main character? These two girls are the same age, but they come from vastly different backgrounds. Though both were poor, one came from Mississippi and the other from Alabama; Emily is white and Neesie black. They would have had differing speech patterns--as would the better-educated adults who crossed paths with my young narrator. These differences have to come through in the dialogue. There's a rich stew of slang going on in these characters' words. Slang is part of language--no matter where you come from. This is where good research pays off. It takes time, searching for words and idioms used in certain regions and eras, but that extra effort is worth it in the end.
Dialogue is probably my favorite part of writing fiction. These are words and accents that give personality to characters that did not exist until I put pen to paper (or clicked those computer keys) and gave them meaning, reason, and life.
So here's my advice to any writer who might be struggling with dialogue issues: Just write what you hear. Listen to voices on the street or those being spoken inside your head; read works by other authors; study classic films. That little extra effort will usually show up in the finished product. The great thing about language is: it's all around us in so many differing forms.
Writing lines for your characters is not always an easy task--though it doesn't have to be difficult, either. In real life, people speak in ways that may seem impossible to capture on paper. Consider the varying dialects within the same languages. British English has its own patterns and words that differ from American English or the Aussie brand of the language. (And that's not even counting the varying dialects within the same country.) A skillful writer should be able to illustrate that, of the three characters conversing in the opening scene of chapter seven, two are from England while the third is from Australia--without mentioning this every time they speak.
If the writer can hear those voices in his/her head, they should be able to drop in little vocal hints within the written dialogue that give life to the characters and to the stories they tell. But it's not always easy.
When writing my novel Jazz Baby, I had to research the era (1920s) and the region (deep south, USA) in order to capture the voice of , not just my narrator, but of each and every character that utters a line in the story. Some were Louisiana Cajun. They spoke with a twang, had a particular way of saying things, which is not always easy to put onto paper.
Or how about Neesie, the young laundry girl, who befriends the main character? These two girls are the same age, but they come from vastly different backgrounds. Though both were poor, one came from Mississippi and the other from Alabama; Emily is white and Neesie black. They would have had differing speech patterns--as would the better-educated adults who crossed paths with my young narrator. These differences have to come through in the dialogue. There's a rich stew of slang going on in these characters' words. Slang is part of language--no matter where you come from. This is where good research pays off. It takes time, searching for words and idioms used in certain regions and eras, but that extra effort is worth it in the end.
Dialogue is probably my favorite part of writing fiction. These are words and accents that give personality to characters that did not exist until I put pen to paper (or clicked those computer keys) and gave them meaning, reason, and life.
So here's my advice to any writer who might be struggling with dialogue issues: Just write what you hear. Listen to voices on the street or those being spoken inside your head; read works by other authors; study classic films. That little extra effort will usually show up in the finished product. The great thing about language is: it's all around us in so many differing forms.
July 10, 2013
ANTics! A Book Review
ANTics by Dakota DouglasMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
ANTics is a book for children ages seven and older. This tale features the story of three young ants on the run, trying to escape a crazy, smelly spider who intends to turn the three ants into ant soup. This book is designed to teach children the importance of teamwork and friendship. It also does a fantastic job of teaching about the habits and lives of ants. A good and adventurous read for both children and adults.
View all my reviews
Woof! A Book Review
WOOF by Dakota DouglasMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
Jeremy is a young boy whose shy nature gets mistaken for being stuck up. The boy's parents are too busy building careers in law to recognize their child is struggling. Lonely and left out, young Jeremy befriends a stray dog with strange eyes and an unusual nose. And then the adventure begins. Woof by Dakota Douglas is a fantasy adventure for children aged seven and older. It's a well-written lesson about friendship that is sure to entertain any child.
View all my reviews
July 3, 2013
Rewrites? Why Rewrites?
Okay. So you've sat down, poured out the contents of your brain onto a computer screen or pieces of paper, and completed your next short story or novel. Things look pretty good to your eyes; the plot lines up the way you intended, the dialogue is snappy, and you're ready to post it on your homepage or submit it to the publisher. But what's this issue in the second paragraph? Hmm. The flow sort of stumbles in that part where Donovan is about to tell Grady he saw their father's killer. The setup isn't quite as surprising as it once appeared. What to do?
Rewrites offer the author a way of punching up a flat or dull part of a story that might slow down the action, threatening the loss of a reader's attention.
There's no shame in rewrites. I rewrote my novel Jazz Baby so many times that I honestly couldn't give an exact number. In fact, the final product scarcely resembles the earliest versions.
Rewriting a story allows the author to go through his/her story like a drug-sniffing dog at the train station, searching for things that have potential to derail a great idea. Sure, that first draft very well could be the one to publish. But that's rarely the case--unless you're dealing with a poem or a very short story. When I write a story, I like to let the words just spill from my head, splashing images on the computer screen, presenting the first ideas that come to mind. When I've reached that part where I put The End at the bottom of the page, I'll put it away for a day or two, come back, have a fresh read of the piece, and usually I'll find that I can describe that scene in the third paragraph way better than what's on the screen.
A rewrite could be something as simple as changing the nickname of a character. It might be switching out the murder weapon-of-choice at the very beginning, making the crime a stabbing rather than a shooting. Perhaps it's finding a better choice of words to replace at least some of those fifteen uses of the word "was" in the opening paragraph. It might also include a complete changing of the bulk of the story.
Rewrites should never be viewed as anything other than what they really are: An author making his/her work the very best it can be. I've written stories I'm eager to share; so eager, in fact, that I've posted them on sites, hoping for positive feedback, only to reread the item a week or two later, realizing that key scene at the end might be better understood if I'd added a short backstory explaining how Dr. Fondue found himself in that predicament anyway.
Some people will go with that first gut-instinct draft. Others, like yours truly, might proofread, comb through the piece, find a better way of presenting a scene, of describing that moment when Dr. Fondue discovered he was covered in cheese.
Don't fear the rewrite; it's only a tool.
Rewrites offer the author a way of punching up a flat or dull part of a story that might slow down the action, threatening the loss of a reader's attention.
There's no shame in rewrites. I rewrote my novel Jazz Baby so many times that I honestly couldn't give an exact number. In fact, the final product scarcely resembles the earliest versions.
Rewriting a story allows the author to go through his/her story like a drug-sniffing dog at the train station, searching for things that have potential to derail a great idea. Sure, that first draft very well could be the one to publish. But that's rarely the case--unless you're dealing with a poem or a very short story. When I write a story, I like to let the words just spill from my head, splashing images on the computer screen, presenting the first ideas that come to mind. When I've reached that part where I put The End at the bottom of the page, I'll put it away for a day or two, come back, have a fresh read of the piece, and usually I'll find that I can describe that scene in the third paragraph way better than what's on the screen.
A rewrite could be something as simple as changing the nickname of a character. It might be switching out the murder weapon-of-choice at the very beginning, making the crime a stabbing rather than a shooting. Perhaps it's finding a better choice of words to replace at least some of those fifteen uses of the word "was" in the opening paragraph. It might also include a complete changing of the bulk of the story.
Rewrites should never be viewed as anything other than what they really are: An author making his/her work the very best it can be. I've written stories I'm eager to share; so eager, in fact, that I've posted them on sites, hoping for positive feedback, only to reread the item a week or two later, realizing that key scene at the end might be better understood if I'd added a short backstory explaining how Dr. Fondue found himself in that predicament anyway.
Some people will go with that first gut-instinct draft. Others, like yours truly, might proofread, comb through the piece, find a better way of presenting a scene, of describing that moment when Dr. Fondue discovered he was covered in cheese.
Don't fear the rewrite; it's only a tool.
A New Book Review
If I Should Die Before My Dog -- by Joe ConnollyMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
This isn't your typical book. It doesn't tell the reader a story the way a novel does. That being said, this book is really quite brilliant. Every dog owner needs to purchase this unique work.
Joe and Cathy Connolly have created the very voice of your K9 companion. As the title suggests, suppose you, a pet owner, die before your pooch? Or maybe you're injured and are no longer capable of caring for your dog. Would you be comfortable with your four-legged companion going to a new home that knows absolutely nothing about your friend? Those of us who have or have had dogs know they often become part of our families. They are almost like our children. If something happens to the owner, well, that pet could go to a new home that, while a good home, may not be a pleasant experience for your friend.
Joe and Cathy have put together a book, sort of similar to a medical file, that documents your dog's favorite food, sleeping habits, medical issues; it informs the new owner all about the things that frighten the pooch, that make him/her feel comfortable, or those bad habits Fido may possess and just how to deal with them. The book covers many aspects of a dog's life. It is, as I mentioned above, the very voice of your pet.
We plan ahead for our loved ones(children, spouse), in the event of our demise or incapacitation; but what do we do for our pets? They can't speak for themselves. The change in home and life circumstances are often scary and confusing for the dog. This book, to be completed by the pet's owner, is meant to make those unfortunate transitions easier for the dog. I suppose this might even be a book for cats as well, though it specifically deals with dogs.
If you have a pet you care about, give yourself peace of mind by assuring an easier move--should the unfortunate occur.
View all my reviews
June 25, 2013
Show, Don't Tell
Just what does that title really mean? I remember hearing this phrase often while enrolled in indie author Stephen Geez's creative writing class back in the 1990s. It's all about story description. Newbies, when writing those early stories, will tend to tell the details of a scene rather than showing them.
What is the difference between showing and telling? And why is it important to know this difference? Knowing the difference, then executing it, will make your story a much better read.
The best way to explain these two issues is to do so by example. For this exercise I'll borrow a scene from my novel Jazz Baby, and I'll write it both ways.
Example one. Telling:
I saw Neesie with a bottle of Co-cola in the kitchen. She was standing next to the icebox. She drank it like it was the last soda in all of Mississippi. She was staring out into the backyard.
I figured out what had a hold on her.
"What'd he do to you?" I asked, reading the newspaper.
She quit daydreaming. "What'd who do to me?" she demanded, no longer acting timid.
"That Injun boy you're gawking at."
She suddenly became righteous. "I ain't gawking!"
"All liars go to the lake of fire," I said, continuing to read the newspaper.
Aunt Frannie came into the room, not knowing what was going on. She poured coffee into a cup, and stared at me like Neesie stared at Billy--but without the lust.
I guess it was guilt I was feeling inside. Did she know I'd been sneaking across the river? Maybe somebody from town saw me over there.
Example Two. Showing:
Neesie took up real cozy with a bottle of Co-cola near to the icebox. She pulled down long draws from the thing like it might be the very last soda in all of Mississippi. Those dark eyes bit hard into some point of interest beyond that window framing the backyard.
Didn't take that Einstein fella to determine what had hold on her.
"What'd he do to you?" I asked, glancing through the newspaper spread across the kitchen table.
My words jerked the girl a-loose of her daydream. "What'd who do to me?" she demanded, sloughing away timidity like an old skin gone past its usefulness.
"That Injun boy you're gawking at."
Righteous indignation pinked up her cheeks real nice. "I ain't gawking!"
"All liars go to the lake of fire," I said, making like the Rayford Gazette kept secrets worth finding out.
Aunt Frannie barged into our moment, oblivious to the colored girl's mooning. She let a little coffee into a cup, made eyes at me the way Neesie did Billy, 'cept without all that lust.
Reckon I'd call it guilt, that delicate flutter inside my chest. I mean, suppose she got word of the goings on across the river? Couldn't fully discount some fella from town seeing me over there.
Conclusion
It's easy to read the difference between the two examples. Telling sucks. It's lazy writing at its worse. Showing a scene takes work. I can't tell you how many times I wrote the above show scene. I worked on it, wrote it, tweaked it, and thought about it late at night, listening to the POV character's voice inside my head speaking it onto the pages. Then I woke up the next morning and re-wrote it.
The point here is: Don't cheat your readers by cheating yourself. Take your time with each and every scene in your short stories, essays, and novels. Bring those words to living, breathing moments that dance inside your readers' minds, as if they are actual memories belonging to the one who laid down money for your work.
Happy writing!
What is the difference between showing and telling? And why is it important to know this difference? Knowing the difference, then executing it, will make your story a much better read.
The best way to explain these two issues is to do so by example. For this exercise I'll borrow a scene from my novel Jazz Baby, and I'll write it both ways.
Example one. Telling:
I saw Neesie with a bottle of Co-cola in the kitchen. She was standing next to the icebox. She drank it like it was the last soda in all of Mississippi. She was staring out into the backyard.
I figured out what had a hold on her.
"What'd he do to you?" I asked, reading the newspaper.
She quit daydreaming. "What'd who do to me?" she demanded, no longer acting timid.
"That Injun boy you're gawking at."
She suddenly became righteous. "I ain't gawking!"
"All liars go to the lake of fire," I said, continuing to read the newspaper.
Aunt Frannie came into the room, not knowing what was going on. She poured coffee into a cup, and stared at me like Neesie stared at Billy--but without the lust.
I guess it was guilt I was feeling inside. Did she know I'd been sneaking across the river? Maybe somebody from town saw me over there.
Example Two. Showing:
Neesie took up real cozy with a bottle of Co-cola near to the icebox. She pulled down long draws from the thing like it might be the very last soda in all of Mississippi. Those dark eyes bit hard into some point of interest beyond that window framing the backyard.
Didn't take that Einstein fella to determine what had hold on her.
"What'd he do to you?" I asked, glancing through the newspaper spread across the kitchen table.
My words jerked the girl a-loose of her daydream. "What'd who do to me?" she demanded, sloughing away timidity like an old skin gone past its usefulness.
"That Injun boy you're gawking at."
Righteous indignation pinked up her cheeks real nice. "I ain't gawking!"
"All liars go to the lake of fire," I said, making like the Rayford Gazette kept secrets worth finding out.
Aunt Frannie barged into our moment, oblivious to the colored girl's mooning. She let a little coffee into a cup, made eyes at me the way Neesie did Billy, 'cept without all that lust.
Reckon I'd call it guilt, that delicate flutter inside my chest. I mean, suppose she got word of the goings on across the river? Couldn't fully discount some fella from town seeing me over there.
Conclusion
It's easy to read the difference between the two examples. Telling sucks. It's lazy writing at its worse. Showing a scene takes work. I can't tell you how many times I wrote the above show scene. I worked on it, wrote it, tweaked it, and thought about it late at night, listening to the POV character's voice inside my head speaking it onto the pages. Then I woke up the next morning and re-wrote it.
The point here is: Don't cheat your readers by cheating yourself. Take your time with each and every scene in your short stories, essays, and novels. Bring those words to living, breathing moments that dance inside your readers' minds, as if they are actual memories belonging to the one who laid down money for your work.
Happy writing!
June 23, 2013
A Novel Called Jazz Baby
Emily Ann "Baby" Teegarten is a young girl with big dreams. She has the sort of voice that convicts sinners simply through song. But Baby has bigger aspirations than singing spirituals to that Mississippi congregation on Sunday mornings during the summer of 1925. The girl yearns to sing jazz in the clubs way up in New York City. Her father is her biggest supporter, standing behind the girl every step of the way--until he passes away suddenly. Her mother, accused in the father's demise, follows him to the grave shortly thereafter.
So what's a poor white-trash orphan girl supposed to do to answer the call of her dreams? Her strict, Bible-believing Aunt Francine has ideas of her own for this tiny girl with the big voice. She brokers a marriage between Emily and Jobie Pritchett, the preacher's son.
Emily Ann is a composite of several girls I've known over the years. There is a psychological element to this character that comes from reality, as harsh and dark as that might seem to some readers. She demanded to be written into existence. I could hear her voice, with that Mississippi lilt, calling out to me from the ether, arguing that it's her time, so pick up that pen, author man, and get to writing.
What Jazz Baby is meant to be is a trip into the year 1925; a shared summer with one young girl trying to find her way in life, in the world of her day. I spent untold hours in researching the era and that region of the country, and human behavior in general. The thing about human behavior is, it doesn't change, no matter the era in which we live. Stories from that era, told to me by my own grandfather, seem to suggest that the young people from the 1920s sought out the same things young people from the 2010s search after.
These weren't asexual, sober, boring people back then. Not at all. The stories I heard, either directly or through eavesdropping, told tales of young and vibrant lives, of men and women on the prowl for good times, cheap booze, and dirty sex. Not at all different from today. (Google "vintage porn" and see how many nudie pics from the 1920s pop up.) The thing is, today we see our grandparents (mine are long dead) as old people who spend a lot of time in church, doing good and Godly things. But they were young once. Young, and quite different from who they are today. Humans grow older, we mature, we change. It's part of the life experience.
I found it interesting that opium was a popular recreational drug in use during that era. Marijuana grew wild in parts of the country, going unmolested by the local authorities, many of whom would consider it silly to dedicate time, money, and effort in trying to eradicate a weed. The young people of the 1920s, the partiers, were the very ones partaking of these forbidden fruits.
One reviewer referred to the characters in Jazz Baby as "Blue Velvet-type characters." I like that comparison, though that movie never once crossed my mind as I wrote the book. These are indeed a collection of strange and bizarre types. I've always loved stories that break from the normal novel template. Good, quirky characters are a blast to create. The idea for the character called "Pig" came from a documentary film on 1920s movie star Fatty Arbuckle. He'd watched his career ruined through a sexual scandal that had no basis in truth. But in Jazz Baby, this character truly is scandalous. He really has those "unnatural" appetites.
Even Emily Ann has a bit of the quirky in her. She's fearless, reckless, and foolish, the way she traipses around the streets of New Orleans, running through the red-light district once known as Storyville, where she considers an invitation to allow her virginity to be auctioned to the highest bidder in a Storyville whorehouse. She's a fan of bootleg whiskey, opium, and cigarettes, and she hasn't a care in the world. Sexuality awakens in the girl, has her pondering the things that can take place between a boy and a girl--or between two girls. Is she bi-sexual? Labels mean nothing to Emily. And neither does race, as she spends much of her time in the company of "colored" jazz musicians, sharing intimacy with a certain piano player.
But the streets are quite dangerous for a young girl of Emily's size and age. Not everyone she meets has her best interests at heart. This is where that reckless side could cost her more than she's able afford. Dark characters have their own ideas for this girl, how best to profit from her talents--even her father's best friend proffers his own schemes.
It took me upwards near ten years to complete this novel, with all the rewrites, the research, and a two-year abandonment. It is available at Amazon http://www.tinyurl.com/bbj4my7 as a paperback or an ebook for Kindle, and at Barnes & Noble http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/jazz-... for Nook.
You can even have a free read of chapter one at http://freshinkgroup.com/books/jazzbaby
So give it a read and let me know what you think. For those who'd like to review it, drop me a message and I'll gladly email a free PDF.
So what's a poor white-trash orphan girl supposed to do to answer the call of her dreams? Her strict, Bible-believing Aunt Francine has ideas of her own for this tiny girl with the big voice. She brokers a marriage between Emily and Jobie Pritchett, the preacher's son.
Emily Ann is a composite of several girls I've known over the years. There is a psychological element to this character that comes from reality, as harsh and dark as that might seem to some readers. She demanded to be written into existence. I could hear her voice, with that Mississippi lilt, calling out to me from the ether, arguing that it's her time, so pick up that pen, author man, and get to writing.
What Jazz Baby is meant to be is a trip into the year 1925; a shared summer with one young girl trying to find her way in life, in the world of her day. I spent untold hours in researching the era and that region of the country, and human behavior in general. The thing about human behavior is, it doesn't change, no matter the era in which we live. Stories from that era, told to me by my own grandfather, seem to suggest that the young people from the 1920s sought out the same things young people from the 2010s search after.
These weren't asexual, sober, boring people back then. Not at all. The stories I heard, either directly or through eavesdropping, told tales of young and vibrant lives, of men and women on the prowl for good times, cheap booze, and dirty sex. Not at all different from today. (Google "vintage porn" and see how many nudie pics from the 1920s pop up.) The thing is, today we see our grandparents (mine are long dead) as old people who spend a lot of time in church, doing good and Godly things. But they were young once. Young, and quite different from who they are today. Humans grow older, we mature, we change. It's part of the life experience.
I found it interesting that opium was a popular recreational drug in use during that era. Marijuana grew wild in parts of the country, going unmolested by the local authorities, many of whom would consider it silly to dedicate time, money, and effort in trying to eradicate a weed. The young people of the 1920s, the partiers, were the very ones partaking of these forbidden fruits.
One reviewer referred to the characters in Jazz Baby as "Blue Velvet-type characters." I like that comparison, though that movie never once crossed my mind as I wrote the book. These are indeed a collection of strange and bizarre types. I've always loved stories that break from the normal novel template. Good, quirky characters are a blast to create. The idea for the character called "Pig" came from a documentary film on 1920s movie star Fatty Arbuckle. He'd watched his career ruined through a sexual scandal that had no basis in truth. But in Jazz Baby, this character truly is scandalous. He really has those "unnatural" appetites.
Even Emily Ann has a bit of the quirky in her. She's fearless, reckless, and foolish, the way she traipses around the streets of New Orleans, running through the red-light district once known as Storyville, where she considers an invitation to allow her virginity to be auctioned to the highest bidder in a Storyville whorehouse. She's a fan of bootleg whiskey, opium, and cigarettes, and she hasn't a care in the world. Sexuality awakens in the girl, has her pondering the things that can take place between a boy and a girl--or between two girls. Is she bi-sexual? Labels mean nothing to Emily. And neither does race, as she spends much of her time in the company of "colored" jazz musicians, sharing intimacy with a certain piano player.
But the streets are quite dangerous for a young girl of Emily's size and age. Not everyone she meets has her best interests at heart. This is where that reckless side could cost her more than she's able afford. Dark characters have their own ideas for this girl, how best to profit from her talents--even her father's best friend proffers his own schemes.
It took me upwards near ten years to complete this novel, with all the rewrites, the research, and a two-year abandonment. It is available at Amazon http://www.tinyurl.com/bbj4my7 as a paperback or an ebook for Kindle, and at Barnes & Noble http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/jazz-... for Nook.
You can even have a free read of chapter one at http://freshinkgroup.com/books/jazzbaby
So give it a read and let me know what you think. For those who'd like to review it, drop me a message and I'll gladly email a free PDF.
June 16, 2013
What's The Sense?
I recently read and reviewed a short story by a newcomer to the writing world. I found this story posted on another writing site. The premise of the story proved strong, promising a solid and entertaining read. However, once I dug into the flesh of the tale, a glaring error soon developed, leaving me hardly able to finish the story. But finish, I did, with a critical eye, dissecting this writer's work in ways I'm not really comfortable in doing.
There were problems with this writer's mechanics, sure, what with all of those run-on sentences. And maybe the punctuation didn't measure up. But those sorts of things are easily remedied--with proper instruction.
The real trouble sprouted in the form of shifting tenses within, not just the story itself, but the very same sentence. Sentences began in a past-tense narration but finished in the present tense. And a thing like this, while seeming so simple to those who understand it, is not so easy to fix--especially if the writer can't grasp the concept of past versus present tense.
Truth be told, I figured something so simple would be easily understood by one and all. If a person had gone to school, even without having graduated, they'd comprehend this common knowledge, right?
But that's not the case.
Indie author Stephen Geez has taught many creative writing classes over the years. Indeed, this author, namely me, enrolled in his class way back in the late 1990s. Mr. Geez has assured me that this lack of grasp for something most would take for granted is quite common among budding new writers.
This is not something left to the author's discretion, a unique tool to render a story quirky; it is, simply put, bad writing. I recently wrote about POV in a previous post. POV shifts within the same scene is maddening, needlessly confusing readers, and quite amateurish in story execution. Some people argued such shifts were fine. I won't get into that argument again. But I will say this: Never, at any time, is it ever acceptable to shift the tense of a story--especially within the very same sentence. Now, if a story is bouncing back and fourth between time periods, and the tense is shifted from chapter to chapter, well, then, that's fine. A couple of books I've read come to mind.
Let me lay out a few examples of past and present tense:
1.) Past tense:
Addison Markley's boyish specter drifted lazily up the front drive. Black trousers and a white shirt clung to her narrow frame; her right hand boldly clutched a jar of corn liquor.
2.) Here's the same scene in present tense:
Addison Markley's boyish specter drifts lazily up the front drive. Black trousers and a white shirt cling to her narrow frame; her right hand boldly clutches a jar of corn liquor.
The verbs are what establish the tense (drifted, drifts; clung, cling; clutched, clutches.)
1.) Past tense:
Johnny Dawes bolted from the room, raced up the street, and headed for the store.
2.) Present tense:
Johnny Dawes bolts from the room, races up the street, and heads for the store.
Again, it's the verbs. (bolted, bolts; raced, races; headed, heads.)
It never reads like this:
Johnny Dawes bolts from the room, raced up the street, and heads for the store.
Simple things aren't always simple to everybody. When writing something you intend to share on a website, with an agent, or through self-publishing, always secure a qualified proofreader. It never hurts to have a second set of eyes combing through your work. These tense-shifts often aren't obvious. So read your work often, and read it aloud.
There were problems with this writer's mechanics, sure, what with all of those run-on sentences. And maybe the punctuation didn't measure up. But those sorts of things are easily remedied--with proper instruction.
The real trouble sprouted in the form of shifting tenses within, not just the story itself, but the very same sentence. Sentences began in a past-tense narration but finished in the present tense. And a thing like this, while seeming so simple to those who understand it, is not so easy to fix--especially if the writer can't grasp the concept of past versus present tense.
Truth be told, I figured something so simple would be easily understood by one and all. If a person had gone to school, even without having graduated, they'd comprehend this common knowledge, right?
But that's not the case.
Indie author Stephen Geez has taught many creative writing classes over the years. Indeed, this author, namely me, enrolled in his class way back in the late 1990s. Mr. Geez has assured me that this lack of grasp for something most would take for granted is quite common among budding new writers.
This is not something left to the author's discretion, a unique tool to render a story quirky; it is, simply put, bad writing. I recently wrote about POV in a previous post. POV shifts within the same scene is maddening, needlessly confusing readers, and quite amateurish in story execution. Some people argued such shifts were fine. I won't get into that argument again. But I will say this: Never, at any time, is it ever acceptable to shift the tense of a story--especially within the very same sentence. Now, if a story is bouncing back and fourth between time periods, and the tense is shifted from chapter to chapter, well, then, that's fine. A couple of books I've read come to mind.
Let me lay out a few examples of past and present tense:
1.) Past tense:
Addison Markley's boyish specter drifted lazily up the front drive. Black trousers and a white shirt clung to her narrow frame; her right hand boldly clutched a jar of corn liquor.
2.) Here's the same scene in present tense:
Addison Markley's boyish specter drifts lazily up the front drive. Black trousers and a white shirt cling to her narrow frame; her right hand boldly clutches a jar of corn liquor.
The verbs are what establish the tense (drifted, drifts; clung, cling; clutched, clutches.)
1.) Past tense:
Johnny Dawes bolted from the room, raced up the street, and headed for the store.
2.) Present tense:
Johnny Dawes bolts from the room, races up the street, and heads for the store.
Again, it's the verbs. (bolted, bolts; raced, races; headed, heads.)
It never reads like this:
Johnny Dawes bolts from the room, raced up the street, and heads for the store.
Simple things aren't always simple to everybody. When writing something you intend to share on a website, with an agent, or through self-publishing, always secure a qualified proofreader. It never hurts to have a second set of eyes combing through your work. These tense-shifts often aren't obvious. So read your work often, and read it aloud.
New Book Reviews
Just a heads-up to those interested; I posted a few new book reviews here on Good Reads. Including a couple of classics.
The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Another perfect novel, this one here. John Steinbeck had a way with words. The man just knew how to tell a story. The Grapes of Wrath paints a dark and gloomy picture of America during the Great Depression, when the Midwest became shadowed beneath a blanket of topsoil, blown away from fields of over-worked land. People went hungry, they died with their lungs filled with dirt that once provided sustenance, and families lost their land when the bank notes were due and money became scarce. It was a hard life for those who lived through this time.
Steinbeck captures the mood with his amazing talent. His use of metaphors and description wows even the most polished of authors all these years later. The characters and narration offer a rich taste of the struggle to live, to hold on to dignity in such undignified times. I highly recommend this novel to anybody who knows how to read.
View all my reviews
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
My rating: 5 of 5 stars
Brilliant! A perfect novel. Perfect. I won't go into details about this book's content. Most everybody on the planet has some sort of idea about its plot. I'll just say, this is one of the top five greatest novels ever written.
Harper Lee was correct in leaving off with this as her only literary contribution. How could she ever come close to Mockingbird's perfection a second time? A first novel that reaches this high in the stratosphere is impossible to follow. Sure, she could have released a string of really good novels, cashed a few more checks, and been content with her portfolio. But a book like Mockingbird comes only once in a generation. Rare is the author who accomplishes such a masterpiece. The narrative voice of young Scout is pure and brilliant. Impossible to duplicate, this voice. A second novel wouldn't have stood in the long shadow cast by this American classic.
With well over eighteen million copies sold, it's a safe bet Harper Lee has never gone hungry. If you're one of the handful of people around the world who has yet to read this perfect example of literature; what's the hold up? And the movie version of this story? Perfect.
View all my reviews
The Grapes of Wrath by John SteinbeckMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
Another perfect novel, this one here. John Steinbeck had a way with words. The man just knew how to tell a story. The Grapes of Wrath paints a dark and gloomy picture of America during the Great Depression, when the Midwest became shadowed beneath a blanket of topsoil, blown away from fields of over-worked land. People went hungry, they died with their lungs filled with dirt that once provided sustenance, and families lost their land when the bank notes were due and money became scarce. It was a hard life for those who lived through this time.
Steinbeck captures the mood with his amazing talent. His use of metaphors and description wows even the most polished of authors all these years later. The characters and narration offer a rich taste of the struggle to live, to hold on to dignity in such undignified times. I highly recommend this novel to anybody who knows how to read.
View all my reviews
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper LeeMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
Brilliant! A perfect novel. Perfect. I won't go into details about this book's content. Most everybody on the planet has some sort of idea about its plot. I'll just say, this is one of the top five greatest novels ever written.
Harper Lee was correct in leaving off with this as her only literary contribution. How could she ever come close to Mockingbird's perfection a second time? A first novel that reaches this high in the stratosphere is impossible to follow. Sure, she could have released a string of really good novels, cashed a few more checks, and been content with her portfolio. But a book like Mockingbird comes only once in a generation. Rare is the author who accomplishes such a masterpiece. The narrative voice of young Scout is pure and brilliant. Impossible to duplicate, this voice. A second novel wouldn't have stood in the long shadow cast by this American classic.
With well over eighteen million copies sold, it's a safe bet Harper Lee has never gone hungry. If you're one of the handful of people around the world who has yet to read this perfect example of literature; what's the hold up? And the movie version of this story? Perfect.
View all my reviews
June 13, 2013
Short vs. Long: A Tale of Two Stories
Is there a difference in writing a short story versus a novel? Is the approach of the author the same for both forms? I can't speak for anybody but me, myself, and I.
My approach to writing short stories is pretty much the same as when I write the longer material. In both cases, I come up with an idea, that moment of "What if...?" From there I fiddle with an outline, create plot points, fine tune the narration. But this is where it differs: With a short story, I'll tend to toss the outline and just write. With a novel, I'll keep that outline nearby, resorting to it often, so I know who is supposed to do what in chapter seven just so that situation in chapter twelve will make sense once the reader finally arrives there.
The short story usually doesn't require that sort of detail. "So why bother with an outline if you're only going to toss it?" you may ask. Well, this particular outline helps me line up the events in their proper order. It also helps me get an ear for the narrator's voice, that cadence of speech, the quirks in the way words are delivered. Once I've gained control of that, I can take the characters anywhere I choose--damn the outline!
Novels are different. They run longer, take on deeper plot points, and ask more of a reader. Readers will pay good money for a novel, while short stories tend to be free reads posted here and there.
But don't misunderstand me: Short stories are very important to the author and the reader. A short story is an appetizer, that sample platter of something succulent, of something delicious, before you commit to paying for the full meal. Short stories draw readers to your work. They let people know what you, the author, are capable of creating. I have discovered many wonderful and brilliant writers via the short story. (T.C. Boyle, Daniel Woodrell, to name but two.) If a few short stories stick with me, I'm more likely to shell out my hard-earned money for that writer's novel. The short story is an introduction by the author to the reader.
A short story can be as simple as a single scene, a single character, with little or no dialogue. It can also be something intricate, with multiple characters, and dialogue to die for. It can be a mini novel--if the author so chooses.
The greatest thing about the short story: They're fun to write. I use them as writing exercises; warm-ups to the next novel. And when a writer has authored enough of short stories, he/she has material for an anthology, a collection fit for publication in book form.
Stand By Me, the movie? It started as a short story by Stephen King. As did The Lawnmower Man, though this movie so lacked any resemblance to the King short story that the author sued in court to have his name removed from the film.
Short stories are fun and lead readers to your work. What's not to like? So don't just focus on that novel you've been writing since forever. Try the short form, and let people know that you're out there creating amazing work.
My approach to writing short stories is pretty much the same as when I write the longer material. In both cases, I come up with an idea, that moment of "What if...?" From there I fiddle with an outline, create plot points, fine tune the narration. But this is where it differs: With a short story, I'll tend to toss the outline and just write. With a novel, I'll keep that outline nearby, resorting to it often, so I know who is supposed to do what in chapter seven just so that situation in chapter twelve will make sense once the reader finally arrives there.
The short story usually doesn't require that sort of detail. "So why bother with an outline if you're only going to toss it?" you may ask. Well, this particular outline helps me line up the events in their proper order. It also helps me get an ear for the narrator's voice, that cadence of speech, the quirks in the way words are delivered. Once I've gained control of that, I can take the characters anywhere I choose--damn the outline!
Novels are different. They run longer, take on deeper plot points, and ask more of a reader. Readers will pay good money for a novel, while short stories tend to be free reads posted here and there.
But don't misunderstand me: Short stories are very important to the author and the reader. A short story is an appetizer, that sample platter of something succulent, of something delicious, before you commit to paying for the full meal. Short stories draw readers to your work. They let people know what you, the author, are capable of creating. I have discovered many wonderful and brilliant writers via the short story. (T.C. Boyle, Daniel Woodrell, to name but two.) If a few short stories stick with me, I'm more likely to shell out my hard-earned money for that writer's novel. The short story is an introduction by the author to the reader.
A short story can be as simple as a single scene, a single character, with little or no dialogue. It can also be something intricate, with multiple characters, and dialogue to die for. It can be a mini novel--if the author so chooses.
The greatest thing about the short story: They're fun to write. I use them as writing exercises; warm-ups to the next novel. And when a writer has authored enough of short stories, he/she has material for an anthology, a collection fit for publication in book form.
Stand By Me, the movie? It started as a short story by Stephen King. As did The Lawnmower Man, though this movie so lacked any resemblance to the King short story that the author sued in court to have his name removed from the film.
Short stories are fun and lead readers to your work. What's not to like? So don't just focus on that novel you've been writing since forever. Try the short form, and let people know that you're out there creating amazing work.
