Rachael Eyre's Blog, page 15
June 7, 2014
Poems and other scribbleydoos
As a new feature, I'm going to share pieces of writing past and present on this page. Although mostly poetry (I'm keeping short stories for published collections), there may be the occasional non fiction piece or article.
The first two to be posted are dug up from the vaults: Darling Loeb, which was the first poem I wrote for my creative writing course in 2003 (but tidied up), and According to Beatrice, a more recent poem about Beatrice Portinari. It's part of a series I'm writing about Famous Muses; she'll be joined by Shakespeare's Dark Lady and others.
It's always been a source of fascination to me that although they've been immortalised by these great men, we know next to nothing about them - including whether the feeling was even reciprocated. And, indeed, does the artist/muse relationship necessarily have to be a straight man pining for a woman? Departures from this mould will be welcomed.
The first two to be posted are dug up from the vaults: Darling Loeb, which was the first poem I wrote for my creative writing course in 2003 (but tidied up), and According to Beatrice, a more recent poem about Beatrice Portinari. It's part of a series I'm writing about Famous Muses; she'll be joined by Shakespeare's Dark Lady and others.
It's always been a source of fascination to me that although they've been immortalised by these great men, we know next to nothing about them - including whether the feeling was even reciprocated. And, indeed, does the artist/muse relationship necessarily have to be a straight man pining for a woman? Departures from this mould will be welcomed.
June 6, 2014
Keeping a Blog
Time to go a bit meta: a blog about blogging. Fledgling writers are told it's the most invaluable tool for online marketing; old hands are persuaded to add it to their repertoire. But why is it considered so important?
1) It allows you to engage with your readers
This is the biggie. In today's world, readers don't want to think of writers as faceless machines who crank out a book every few years. They want to know more about you, what makes you tick. Be more than a dustjacket pic: start discussions, talk about your hobbies, share. This way they'll come to know and like you the person as well as you the author. Though be careful to set boundaries; some things should really remain private.
2) You can road test ideas
Some authors use their blogs to air new stories and share lesser known pieces. This is great for getting your readers involved - they can watch as this new project takes shape, ask questions and make suggestions. The benefits are twofold: not only will you know you're giving readers what they want, they'll be in a unique position to assist you. Who knows, their insight may help revive a flagging story. Though be sure to give credit where it's due!
3) It keeps your writing fresh
Many writers are monogamous; they'll only focus on one project at a time. While such commitment is admirable, your writing may grow stale if you don't mix it up. If you find it difficult to switch from one task to the next - from a novel to a short story collection, say - keeping a blog might be the no strings fling you're looking for. It'll allow you to juggle different genres and forms without dragging your attention from your current story. Better still, it sharpens your non fiction skills, making you a more versatile author.
4) It reminds people you're out there
In an ideal world, all writers would be producing new books as regularly as clockwork and making feted appearances on chat shows. Unfortunately this is reality; not only do books take far longer than planned, most of us have full time jobs and can't dedicate every waking moment to promotion. In these circumstances, it's easy for a reader to lose sight of an author, thinking that because a new book hasn't been announced yet, they've vanished off the face of the earth.
Blogs not only prove that you're vigorously alive, but serve to fill in any gaps. They reassure readers all is well and, the fates permitting, a fabulous new book should hit the shelves any day now.
5) It's fun
Granted, keeping a blog is an acquired taste. You may find you run out of topics or feel under pressure to make frequent posts. You might believe it's taking time away from your serious writing. If this is you, it's best to quit while you're ahead.
The primary reason you should keep a blog is because it's FUN. Whether letting off steam about something outrageous in the news, sharing a profound experience or asking your readers' opinion of your latest flash fiction, it's always rewarding and therefore never dull.
1) It allows you to engage with your readers
This is the biggie. In today's world, readers don't want to think of writers as faceless machines who crank out a book every few years. They want to know more about you, what makes you tick. Be more than a dustjacket pic: start discussions, talk about your hobbies, share. This way they'll come to know and like you the person as well as you the author. Though be careful to set boundaries; some things should really remain private.
2) You can road test ideas
Some authors use their blogs to air new stories and share lesser known pieces. This is great for getting your readers involved - they can watch as this new project takes shape, ask questions and make suggestions. The benefits are twofold: not only will you know you're giving readers what they want, they'll be in a unique position to assist you. Who knows, their insight may help revive a flagging story. Though be sure to give credit where it's due!
3) It keeps your writing fresh
Many writers are monogamous; they'll only focus on one project at a time. While such commitment is admirable, your writing may grow stale if you don't mix it up. If you find it difficult to switch from one task to the next - from a novel to a short story collection, say - keeping a blog might be the no strings fling you're looking for. It'll allow you to juggle different genres and forms without dragging your attention from your current story. Better still, it sharpens your non fiction skills, making you a more versatile author.
4) It reminds people you're out there
In an ideal world, all writers would be producing new books as regularly as clockwork and making feted appearances on chat shows. Unfortunately this is reality; not only do books take far longer than planned, most of us have full time jobs and can't dedicate every waking moment to promotion. In these circumstances, it's easy for a reader to lose sight of an author, thinking that because a new book hasn't been announced yet, they've vanished off the face of the earth.
Blogs not only prove that you're vigorously alive, but serve to fill in any gaps. They reassure readers all is well and, the fates permitting, a fabulous new book should hit the shelves any day now.
5) It's fun
Granted, keeping a blog is an acquired taste. You may find you run out of topics or feel under pressure to make frequent posts. You might believe it's taking time away from your serious writing. If this is you, it's best to quit while you're ahead.
The primary reason you should keep a blog is because it's FUN. Whether letting off steam about something outrageous in the news, sharing a profound experience or asking your readers' opinion of your latest flash fiction, it's always rewarding and therefore never dull.
May 28, 2014
RIP Maya Angelou
With the passing of Dr Maya Angelou, the world has lost not only a unique literary voice but a great and courageous human being. Her story was a real life case of triumphing over adversity; if you haven't already read I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings and her other memoirs, I urge you to do so.
May 26, 2014
Don't Restrict Our Kids' Reading
It's been a fraught weekend for British politics. As well as the repulsive right wing protest party UKIP cleaning up in the European elections, our Secretary for Education Michael Gove has decreed that the literature syllabus is "not English enough." With this in mind, stalwarts such as To Kill a Mockingbird, Of Mice and Men (which Gove personally dislikes), The Color Purple and The Crucible are being banished from our children's reading list.
There are no words for what a monstrous imposition this is. Without these works, we're left with a hopelessly one sided curriculum bearing no relation to most kids' lives. I love Shakespeare, but the flat and uninspiring way it's taught in schools means many come away with the impression it's "boring". The satire of Austen still sparkles, but what window to the outside world does it provide?
By eliminating modern American books, they're
also getting rid of strong female characters, people of colour and thorny issues they can get their teeth into. We mustn't forget that in some cases, the books they study at school are the only books they will read. Can you blame them for not engaging with fiction when there's nothing for them to identify with?
Don't restrict our kids' reading, Mr Gove. They deserve better than that.
There are no words for what a monstrous imposition this is. Without these works, we're left with a hopelessly one sided curriculum bearing no relation to most kids' lives. I love Shakespeare, but the flat and uninspiring way it's taught in schools means many come away with the impression it's "boring". The satire of Austen still sparkles, but what window to the outside world does it provide?
By eliminating modern American books, they're
also getting rid of strong female characters, people of colour and thorny issues they can get their teeth into. We mustn't forget that in some cases, the books they study at school are the only books they will read. Can you blame them for not engaging with fiction when there's nothing for them to identify with?
Don't restrict our kids' reading, Mr Gove. They deserve better than that.
May 24, 2014
Spotlight on ... Margaret Atwood
Every now and then this blog will focus upon an inspirational author, book, series or film. For the first I'll take a closer look at one of my favourite authors, the eclectic but compulsively readable Margaret Atwood.
I first discovered Atwood when I was twelve. At school we were going through that phase where we passed so-called "dirty" books around: Judy Blume's Forever, Lady Chatterly's Lover. I'd found Audre Lorde's Zami but, in a rare moment of self preservation, decided the overt gay theme wasn't for Year 8. (Of course I read it cover to cover at home. It was the first book that showed me what lesbians actually did in bed).
I grabbed literally the nearest book to it: The Handmaid's Tale, complete with Eightiestastic cover. It was yet another book my mum was studying on her teacher training course, and since it was liberally scattered with the word "fucking," fitted my classmates' requirements.
When I brought the book home that night, I couldn't leave it alone. (I'm lucky Mum allowed me to read whatever I liked, causing her to lock horns with my teachers more than once). I knew nothing of dystopias or the women's movement, but I gobbled it over a weekend. I'd long been bored with the reading list at school - "worthy" texts that were also inexplicably childish. Here was a real adult book, giving me the draught of fresh blood I needed!
From then on I sought out every Atwood I could find, eagerly awaiting each new one. Her vintage period began with The Handmaid's Tale; she went on to produce Cat's Eye, The Robber Bride, Alias Grace and The Blind Assassin. Although her MadAddam trilogy has received enormous acclaim, I'm in no hurry to re-read it; like many dystopias, the concept is better than the execution.
That's reckoning without the volumes of short stories, poetries, essays ... Simply put, Ms Atwood is a one woman power house. She is also the author I would most like to go for a drink with: she always comes across as witty, intelligent, modest and great company. She engages with her fans and never blows her own trumpet.
What's to like?
Atwood's strengths are plots, narrative and writing. In her early work she tried to be a social commentator, which didn't play to her talents. There were flashes of promise, but she hadn't shown what she could do. Lady Oracle, her third book, is a picaresque tour through one woman's life. It's my favourite of her early books but somehow lacks that authoritative Atwoodian stamp.
With The Handmaid's Tale, she took a contemporary worry - could pollution make the population infertile? - and followed it through to a logical, though horrifying, conclusion. As she's often said in interviews, she hasn't invented anything; all Gilead's measures have been practised in one form or another. It was the first time she'd found a plot that displayed her considerable skills. Many fans believe she has never been better.
After that, there was no stopping her. She has fantastic premises that speak straight to the reader. Did you ever have a childhood friend who was more of a bully? Give Cat's Eye and its sinister little girls a go. Do you have a yen for eighteen hundreds murder cases, especially when they're a potent mix of sex, class and scandal? Try Alias Grace, possibly her most overlooked work.
One of my favourite things about Atwood is that she has no "genre" as such; she moves effortlessly from dystopia to roman a clef and back again. She features characters you'd never find anywhere else: two of the leads in The Robber Bride are a pint sized female war historian and a crunchy earthy psychic with a split personality.
I'm a firm believer in making the narrative fit the subject, and this is where she shines. The Handmaid's Tale is entirely in present tense: locked in Offred's head, we assume. We're left in no doubt that she might be arrested any minute, and witness major events (a birth, an execution, a visit to a brothel) first hand. Compare that with Alias Grace, where the titular Grace is first person, present tense and the second lead, Dr Jordan, is third person, past tense. Add to that the fact that much of the novel is Grace recounting her life story to Jordan and we feel far more sympathetic towards her, undoubtedly Atwood's intention.
Probably her most complex novel in terms of
narrative is The Blind Assassin. The bulk of the tale is Iris Chase's memoir, but there are also extracts from the eponymous novel (written by her dead sister Laura) and numerous press cuttings. Some critics don't believe the book within a book stands alone, but it seems in keeping with American pulp novels of the time (and the hero writes for sci fi pulp magazines).
Atwood's notable for her frequent use of present tense, a stylistic choice which some dismiss as pretentious and overly literary. Something which fascinates me - and I've adopted it in my own writing - is the regular switching between past and present, making it clear which rung of the story ladder you're on. For example, Cat's Eye is retrospective - you have Elaine returning to Toronto for the art show, but you also have the back story ... and past a certain point, present tense takes over. It's unsettling and very well done.
There must be countless authors with terrific plots and narrative choices, but what makes Atwood stand out is the quality of her writing. It's not just quotable lines, though she has those in abundance (most famously: 'The Commander is fucking. What he is fucking is the lower part of my body.' Imagine the impact this must have had at a time where swear words were rarely used, never mind printed!) There's her ability to perfectly convey a concept ('You don't look back along time but down through it, like water. Sometimes this comes to the surface, sometimes that, sometimes nothing. Nothing goes away') or passages of breathtaking beauty ('Darkness lifting into the sky, up from the horizon, like a black sun behind cloud cover') or outré descriptions that are bang on the money (Iris's bitchy sister in law has a hat like a 'poisonous cake'). There's the dialogue, too - whether it's Odysseus's long suffering wife Penelope or an eco terrorist in an unknown future, you can believe that these are real people speaking. They cuss, they use slang, they refer to popular culture.
Her weaknesses
It seems churlish to say a much decorated author might have flaws. With Atwood I can only think of two: a problem with drawing male characters and a habit of recycling.
Her leads are mostly female - off the top of my head, I can only recall Snowman/Jimmy from the MadAddam trilogy, Dr Jordan from Alias Grace and Nate from Life Before Man (the latter two share the narrative honours with more compelling female characters). The remaining males are husbands, fathers, brothers and lovers. Barring the endearingly weird Stephen in Cat's Eye, probably my favourite of her men, they tend to be schmucks, creeps or patronising gits. (The Commander is all three!)
A common criticism of The Robber Bride is why anyone would bother to steal wet boring West, draft dodging pothead Billy or selfish serial adulterer Mitch. This is missing the point: Zenia's sport isn't so much snatching their men as attacking the women's vulnerable spots (Tony's intellect and integrity, Charis's empathy and kindness, Roz's yearning to fit in and her love for her father). I do acknowledge that the horrible husband in The Blind Assassin - a fascist supporter who hankers after young girls - is clumsily drawn. You want to boo whenever he appears.
Her recycling isn't as blatant as other authors, but it's still there. Reading Surfacing (one of only two Atwoods I didn't like), I was upset to find whole chunks had been reused in Cat's Eye. She also repeats an incident used there (painting an entire flat and its furnishings black to annoy the landlord) in The Robber Bride, but since you can't help but suspect these are snapshots from her life, perhaps she's forgotten. But this is a very minor complaint.
Five you should read
The Handmaid's Tale - Possibly the first literary feminist dystopia. A fabulous concept, and despite the subject, laugh out funny in places
Cat's Eye - The ultimate depiction of schoolgirl bullying, Elaine is an Everywoman with a 'typical' yet immensely readable life
The Robber Bride - Cat's Eye grown up, our three heroines protect all they hold dear from avaricious sociopath Zenia. Does fighting a monster turn you into a monster?
Alias Grace - Unforgivably overlooked, this is an engrossing and utterly convincing account of a real life Canadian murder case in the eighteen hundreds
Oryx and Crake - A tense and atmospheric post apocalypse story, showing how genius can corrupt. Satirical and endlessly inventive
I first discovered Atwood when I was twelve. At school we were going through that phase where we passed so-called "dirty" books around: Judy Blume's Forever, Lady Chatterly's Lover. I'd found Audre Lorde's Zami but, in a rare moment of self preservation, decided the overt gay theme wasn't for Year 8. (Of course I read it cover to cover at home. It was the first book that showed me what lesbians actually did in bed).
I grabbed literally the nearest book to it: The Handmaid's Tale, complete with Eightiestastic cover. It was yet another book my mum was studying on her teacher training course, and since it was liberally scattered with the word "fucking," fitted my classmates' requirements.
When I brought the book home that night, I couldn't leave it alone. (I'm lucky Mum allowed me to read whatever I liked, causing her to lock horns with my teachers more than once). I knew nothing of dystopias or the women's movement, but I gobbled it over a weekend. I'd long been bored with the reading list at school - "worthy" texts that were also inexplicably childish. Here was a real adult book, giving me the draught of fresh blood I needed!
From then on I sought out every Atwood I could find, eagerly awaiting each new one. Her vintage period began with The Handmaid's Tale; she went on to produce Cat's Eye, The Robber Bride, Alias Grace and The Blind Assassin. Although her MadAddam trilogy has received enormous acclaim, I'm in no hurry to re-read it; like many dystopias, the concept is better than the execution.
That's reckoning without the volumes of short stories, poetries, essays ... Simply put, Ms Atwood is a one woman power house. She is also the author I would most like to go for a drink with: she always comes across as witty, intelligent, modest and great company. She engages with her fans and never blows her own trumpet.
What's to like?
Atwood's strengths are plots, narrative and writing. In her early work she tried to be a social commentator, which didn't play to her talents. There were flashes of promise, but she hadn't shown what she could do. Lady Oracle, her third book, is a picaresque tour through one woman's life. It's my favourite of her early books but somehow lacks that authoritative Atwoodian stamp.
With The Handmaid's Tale, she took a contemporary worry - could pollution make the population infertile? - and followed it through to a logical, though horrifying, conclusion. As she's often said in interviews, she hasn't invented anything; all Gilead's measures have been practised in one form or another. It was the first time she'd found a plot that displayed her considerable skills. Many fans believe she has never been better.
After that, there was no stopping her. She has fantastic premises that speak straight to the reader. Did you ever have a childhood friend who was more of a bully? Give Cat's Eye and its sinister little girls a go. Do you have a yen for eighteen hundreds murder cases, especially when they're a potent mix of sex, class and scandal? Try Alias Grace, possibly her most overlooked work.
One of my favourite things about Atwood is that she has no "genre" as such; she moves effortlessly from dystopia to roman a clef and back again. She features characters you'd never find anywhere else: two of the leads in The Robber Bride are a pint sized female war historian and a crunchy earthy psychic with a split personality.
I'm a firm believer in making the narrative fit the subject, and this is where she shines. The Handmaid's Tale is entirely in present tense: locked in Offred's head, we assume. We're left in no doubt that she might be arrested any minute, and witness major events (a birth, an execution, a visit to a brothel) first hand. Compare that with Alias Grace, where the titular Grace is first person, present tense and the second lead, Dr Jordan, is third person, past tense. Add to that the fact that much of the novel is Grace recounting her life story to Jordan and we feel far more sympathetic towards her, undoubtedly Atwood's intention.
Probably her most complex novel in terms of
narrative is The Blind Assassin. The bulk of the tale is Iris Chase's memoir, but there are also extracts from the eponymous novel (written by her dead sister Laura) and numerous press cuttings. Some critics don't believe the book within a book stands alone, but it seems in keeping with American pulp novels of the time (and the hero writes for sci fi pulp magazines).
Atwood's notable for her frequent use of present tense, a stylistic choice which some dismiss as pretentious and overly literary. Something which fascinates me - and I've adopted it in my own writing - is the regular switching between past and present, making it clear which rung of the story ladder you're on. For example, Cat's Eye is retrospective - you have Elaine returning to Toronto for the art show, but you also have the back story ... and past a certain point, present tense takes over. It's unsettling and very well done.
There must be countless authors with terrific plots and narrative choices, but what makes Atwood stand out is the quality of her writing. It's not just quotable lines, though she has those in abundance (most famously: 'The Commander is fucking. What he is fucking is the lower part of my body.' Imagine the impact this must have had at a time where swear words were rarely used, never mind printed!) There's her ability to perfectly convey a concept ('You don't look back along time but down through it, like water. Sometimes this comes to the surface, sometimes that, sometimes nothing. Nothing goes away') or passages of breathtaking beauty ('Darkness lifting into the sky, up from the horizon, like a black sun behind cloud cover') or outré descriptions that are bang on the money (Iris's bitchy sister in law has a hat like a 'poisonous cake'). There's the dialogue, too - whether it's Odysseus's long suffering wife Penelope or an eco terrorist in an unknown future, you can believe that these are real people speaking. They cuss, they use slang, they refer to popular culture.
Her weaknesses
It seems churlish to say a much decorated author might have flaws. With Atwood I can only think of two: a problem with drawing male characters and a habit of recycling.
Her leads are mostly female - off the top of my head, I can only recall Snowman/Jimmy from the MadAddam trilogy, Dr Jordan from Alias Grace and Nate from Life Before Man (the latter two share the narrative honours with more compelling female characters). The remaining males are husbands, fathers, brothers and lovers. Barring the endearingly weird Stephen in Cat's Eye, probably my favourite of her men, they tend to be schmucks, creeps or patronising gits. (The Commander is all three!)
A common criticism of The Robber Bride is why anyone would bother to steal wet boring West, draft dodging pothead Billy or selfish serial adulterer Mitch. This is missing the point: Zenia's sport isn't so much snatching their men as attacking the women's vulnerable spots (Tony's intellect and integrity, Charis's empathy and kindness, Roz's yearning to fit in and her love for her father). I do acknowledge that the horrible husband in The Blind Assassin - a fascist supporter who hankers after young girls - is clumsily drawn. You want to boo whenever he appears.
Her recycling isn't as blatant as other authors, but it's still there. Reading Surfacing (one of only two Atwoods I didn't like), I was upset to find whole chunks had been reused in Cat's Eye. She also repeats an incident used there (painting an entire flat and its furnishings black to annoy the landlord) in The Robber Bride, but since you can't help but suspect these are snapshots from her life, perhaps she's forgotten. But this is a very minor complaint.
Five you should read
The Handmaid's Tale - Possibly the first literary feminist dystopia. A fabulous concept, and despite the subject, laugh out funny in places
Cat's Eye - The ultimate depiction of schoolgirl bullying, Elaine is an Everywoman with a 'typical' yet immensely readable life
The Robber Bride - Cat's Eye grown up, our three heroines protect all they hold dear from avaricious sociopath Zenia. Does fighting a monster turn you into a monster?
Alias Grace - Unforgivably overlooked, this is an engrossing and utterly convincing account of a real life Canadian murder case in the eighteen hundreds
Oryx and Crake - A tense and atmospheric post apocalypse story, showing how genius can corrupt. Satirical and endlessly inventive
May 19, 2014
Badly Behaved Authors
I've been a tad under the weather for the past few days, so ended up missing a blog. In compensation we'll do a double whammy this week. Today we'll look at a blight on the community - the types of guys (and girls) who give writers a bad name.
Authors are a funny bunch. Quite aside from the oddness of their vocation (only pretending to be other people is weirder), they're often the wallflowers who hang out in the kitchen at parties, talking about kids' TV programmes. (Guilty as charged).
So what happens when an essentially introverted person gets shoved into the limelight?
It seems to go either of two ways. In the best case scenario, they rise to the occasion and are utterly delightful. Look at Sarah Waters or Ian Rankin: both are natural interviewees, do the circuit, are refreshingly modest and down to earth. They appreciate their fans, acknowledging they're the ones who put them where they are.
And then you get the badly behaved authors.
Perhaps they're the overnight hit who starts to believe their hype. Maybe they're an established name, but arrogantly believe their sales give them a Get Out of Jail Free card. But these capers don't go unnoticed - it only takes a few murmurs here and there to topple the work of years.
Here are some of the catastrophic mistakes made by these discount Mozarts. Legend has it he once made 100 enemies at a party - not something to aspire to!
1) Forgetting they were beginners once
This is the most inexplicable error an author can make. Unless they were scribbling in utero, they were once in the position of many an unpublished writer, dreaming about packing in the day job and counting rejection slips. So why do luckier writers hold them in contempt, calling them "amateurs" or "wannabes"?
Such a mindset's even more staggering when they're supposed to be offering advice. Not long ago I bought a book about self publishing - and oh my goodness, I've never read anything more abrasive and unpleasant in my life. Not only did the author assume her way was law, and any other method doomed to failure, but she seemed to view sci fi and gay authors with disdain, implying anyone who wrote these genres was a deluded, unpublishable weirdo. Delete!
2) Getting up on their soap box
Writing is the art of a good story well told. Yet some writers use it as a licence to vent, believing their celebrity lends a credibility they would otherwise lack. This isn't so bad if they're enthusing about origami or Morris dancing, but if they hold harmful opinions, it may do serious damage.
For every hundred or so sane authors, there's one who believes minorities shouldn't be represented in mainstream fiction, or that women have no right to play an active role. Fortunately readers are wising up to their antics and treating them with the scorn they deserve.
3) Lambasting readers
Every writer has received a review that makes them want to bury their knuckles in their eyes. If it's
the work of a troll, you want to treat them to a blistering put down; if they misunderstood it, you want to put them straight. Right?
Don't. Your reader isn't trying to besmirch you personally - as far as they're concerned, they're simply reviewing a book they didn't like. If you give them a piece of your mind, they'll feel justified in their view that not only is your book trash, but you're a novice who can't take criticism.
4) Roasting other writers
Yes, we can all think of writers we don't like, or we think are hogging the best seller lists. But once you make the transition from reader to author, the best policy is to keep schtum on these matters. Think of that friend with the boyfriend you can't abide - yes, he may be absolutely vile, but he's not worth losing a long standing friendship over. Likewise, laying into a popular author only makes you seem jealous, petty and childish, and can ruin your reputation.
5) All round obnoxiousness
Believe it or not, there are authors out there with a curious antipathy to what writers actually do. They don't engage their fans, behave abominably at events, and are scathing of any adaptations of their work, never mind it brings them plenty of free publicity. Some resort to devious measures, planting 'sock puppet' reviews that praise their books and run down their rivals.
This can't be impressed enough: as an author, you are a brand. Your agent or publisher can only do so much - and, indeed, if you're self published, you are your sole employee. And just as you wouldn't shop with a firm that gave lousy customer service, nobody will buy books from Offensive Jones.
Authors are a funny bunch. Quite aside from the oddness of their vocation (only pretending to be other people is weirder), they're often the wallflowers who hang out in the kitchen at parties, talking about kids' TV programmes. (Guilty as charged).
So what happens when an essentially introverted person gets shoved into the limelight?
It seems to go either of two ways. In the best case scenario, they rise to the occasion and are utterly delightful. Look at Sarah Waters or Ian Rankin: both are natural interviewees, do the circuit, are refreshingly modest and down to earth. They appreciate their fans, acknowledging they're the ones who put them where they are.
And then you get the badly behaved authors.
Perhaps they're the overnight hit who starts to believe their hype. Maybe they're an established name, but arrogantly believe their sales give them a Get Out of Jail Free card. But these capers don't go unnoticed - it only takes a few murmurs here and there to topple the work of years.
Here are some of the catastrophic mistakes made by these discount Mozarts. Legend has it he once made 100 enemies at a party - not something to aspire to!
1) Forgetting they were beginners once
This is the most inexplicable error an author can make. Unless they were scribbling in utero, they were once in the position of many an unpublished writer, dreaming about packing in the day job and counting rejection slips. So why do luckier writers hold them in contempt, calling them "amateurs" or "wannabes"?
Such a mindset's even more staggering when they're supposed to be offering advice. Not long ago I bought a book about self publishing - and oh my goodness, I've never read anything more abrasive and unpleasant in my life. Not only did the author assume her way was law, and any other method doomed to failure, but she seemed to view sci fi and gay authors with disdain, implying anyone who wrote these genres was a deluded, unpublishable weirdo. Delete!
2) Getting up on their soap box
Writing is the art of a good story well told. Yet some writers use it as a licence to vent, believing their celebrity lends a credibility they would otherwise lack. This isn't so bad if they're enthusing about origami or Morris dancing, but if they hold harmful opinions, it may do serious damage.
For every hundred or so sane authors, there's one who believes minorities shouldn't be represented in mainstream fiction, or that women have no right to play an active role. Fortunately readers are wising up to their antics and treating them with the scorn they deserve.
3) Lambasting readers
Every writer has received a review that makes them want to bury their knuckles in their eyes. If it's
the work of a troll, you want to treat them to a blistering put down; if they misunderstood it, you want to put them straight. Right?
Don't. Your reader isn't trying to besmirch you personally - as far as they're concerned, they're simply reviewing a book they didn't like. If you give them a piece of your mind, they'll feel justified in their view that not only is your book trash, but you're a novice who can't take criticism.
4) Roasting other writers
Yes, we can all think of writers we don't like, or we think are hogging the best seller lists. But once you make the transition from reader to author, the best policy is to keep schtum on these matters. Think of that friend with the boyfriend you can't abide - yes, he may be absolutely vile, but he's not worth losing a long standing friendship over. Likewise, laying into a popular author only makes you seem jealous, petty and childish, and can ruin your reputation.
5) All round obnoxiousness
Believe it or not, there are authors out there with a curious antipathy to what writers actually do. They don't engage their fans, behave abominably at events, and are scathing of any adaptations of their work, never mind it brings them plenty of free publicity. Some resort to devious measures, planting 'sock puppet' reviews that praise their books and run down their rivals.
This can't be impressed enough: as an author, you are a brand. Your agent or publisher can only do so much - and, indeed, if you're self published, you are your sole employee. And just as you wouldn't shop with a firm that gave lousy customer service, nobody will buy books from Offensive Jones.
May 8, 2014
Top 5 Gay Fiction Cliches
The original plan for this week's blog was an overview of Margaret Atwood, my favourite author. While that's still going ahead, either this week or next, I really must get something off my chest.
Blue is the Warmest Colour.
In case you've been vacationing on Pluto, it's a French debut graphic novel, recently made into a critically acclaimed film. The author's disdain for the project, plus the director's dubious methods, has meant that it has never been far from the headlines. Normally I'd've snapped it straight up - I'm suffering from Strangers in Paradise withdrawal symptoms- but somehow I was wary. My instinct proved right: it contains virtually every coming of age/coming out cliche written.
I shan't spoil it for you in case you want to read it. Instead, let's consider the five most overused gay fiction cliches ...
1) The Unhappy Ending
Even in this comparatively enlightened age, a gay couple rarely rides into the sunset. If they don't commit suicide in the most angst ridden way possible, they're murdered by bigots, die from Ambiguous Soap Opera Disease (AIDS is viewed as offensive and passé) or struck down by a random act of God. In notorious film The Fox a butch is killed by a tree falling between her legs!
Writers may argue that this is a completely arbitrary decision bearing no relation to the character's sexuality. Riddle me this: in Lilian Hellman's play The Children's Hour, the heroine kills herself after realising she's in love with her best friend. The Hays Code decreed this was unacceptable, and in the first film adaptation, renamed These Three, have her love Karen's fiancé. Does she kill herself in this version? No, sir. Whatever Hellman may have intended, Martha's suicide was seen as just deserts for her "unnatural" tendencies.
2) The Unattainable Bestie
Speaking of Martha and Karen, this is another trope beloved of LGBT writers: the astonishingly gorgeous but unfortunately totally straight best friend. They're often aware of their friend's tender feelings, and if they're nice, say something along the lines of "I love you but I can't LOVE you." If they're nasty, they lead them on shamelessly, confident their besotted disciple will do whatever they want. It seems Dumbledore and his erstwhile pal Grindelwald had this sort of relationship.
Sometimes they cave in to pity and sleep with their mate, but insist it's a "one off" or "just experimenting" if they're girls (men will never mention it again). Either way, they're weak, self absorbed wastes of space who need to be buoyed up by constant admiration. In the better stories, the hero/ine will realise this and move on, but they're equally likely to trail around after them forever.
3) Homophobes Inc
There's nothing like learning a friend is gay to turn a previously warm, open minded person into a ranting, bile spewing monster. Expect cries of: "It's not normal!" and "I let you sleep over!" and severing the friendship so nobody thinks they're gay too. Sometimes they're too cowardly to extend even this courtesy - the first our luckless hero knows is when his buddy blanks him.
If you believe the stories, coming out has a ruinous effect on your social life. Bringing us neatly to ...
4) Mummy and Daddy Hate You Now
It's every questioning teen's worst fear - that their parents will be unable to accept their sexuality and reject them. The pressure is ramped up still further if they've married or had children. For some reason many parents are fine with gay people in theory, but when it occurs under their very own roof, they're horrified.
Although judgmental Bible quotes are (thankfully) going out of fashion, you're still likely to have one parent who can't stomach the news (typically the same gender as the hero/ine). Cue "Have you tried not being gay?" and "I love you, but I hate what you are" and other sensitive remarks. In such cases they're only reunited on the parent's death bed, and sometimes not even then. If the son or daughter has a lover, expect them to be blamed for initiating their precious darling into a depraved "lifestyle."
5) Stereotypes Galore
Gay people come in all ages, races, religions and backgrounds. Yet you'd never guess that looking at Fictionland: your typical gay man or woman is depicted as white, middle class, atheist and liberal, with disposable income. Although this makes sense on the surface (why belong to a movement that discriminates against you?), it's an idyll that doesn't reflect real people's lives.
Sadly, fiction is often too lazy to establish well rounded characters who also happen to be gay. If they're not the lead, or created by a gay author, they'll be drawn with the crudest strokes. Men are camp, clothes conscious and wannabe Wildes; women are terrifying Lotharios with mohawks and dog collars. While there's been a backlash with the girls - the twenty first century lesbian has been reimagined as a classy, glamorous vixen - portrayals of gay men are stuck in the Seventies.
More than any other genre, LGBT fiction suffers from the "It happened to me!" principle. Yes, you might have caught your step dad lip syncing to Judy Garland or been in love with your PE teacher, but do we really need to know about it? Unless it's played for laughs, angst belongs in the past. Don't perpetuate all the mindless self loathing and violence - do something all your own!
Blue is the Warmest Colour.
In case you've been vacationing on Pluto, it's a French debut graphic novel, recently made into a critically acclaimed film. The author's disdain for the project, plus the director's dubious methods, has meant that it has never been far from the headlines. Normally I'd've snapped it straight up - I'm suffering from Strangers in Paradise withdrawal symptoms- but somehow I was wary. My instinct proved right: it contains virtually every coming of age/coming out cliche written.
I shan't spoil it for you in case you want to read it. Instead, let's consider the five most overused gay fiction cliches ...
1) The Unhappy Ending
Even in this comparatively enlightened age, a gay couple rarely rides into the sunset. If they don't commit suicide in the most angst ridden way possible, they're murdered by bigots, die from Ambiguous Soap Opera Disease (AIDS is viewed as offensive and passé) or struck down by a random act of God. In notorious film The Fox a butch is killed by a tree falling between her legs!
Writers may argue that this is a completely arbitrary decision bearing no relation to the character's sexuality. Riddle me this: in Lilian Hellman's play The Children's Hour, the heroine kills herself after realising she's in love with her best friend. The Hays Code decreed this was unacceptable, and in the first film adaptation, renamed These Three, have her love Karen's fiancé. Does she kill herself in this version? No, sir. Whatever Hellman may have intended, Martha's suicide was seen as just deserts for her "unnatural" tendencies.
2) The Unattainable Bestie
Speaking of Martha and Karen, this is another trope beloved of LGBT writers: the astonishingly gorgeous but unfortunately totally straight best friend. They're often aware of their friend's tender feelings, and if they're nice, say something along the lines of "I love you but I can't LOVE you." If they're nasty, they lead them on shamelessly, confident their besotted disciple will do whatever they want. It seems Dumbledore and his erstwhile pal Grindelwald had this sort of relationship.
Sometimes they cave in to pity and sleep with their mate, but insist it's a "one off" or "just experimenting" if they're girls (men will never mention it again). Either way, they're weak, self absorbed wastes of space who need to be buoyed up by constant admiration. In the better stories, the hero/ine will realise this and move on, but they're equally likely to trail around after them forever.
3) Homophobes Inc
There's nothing like learning a friend is gay to turn a previously warm, open minded person into a ranting, bile spewing monster. Expect cries of: "It's not normal!" and "I let you sleep over!" and severing the friendship so nobody thinks they're gay too. Sometimes they're too cowardly to extend even this courtesy - the first our luckless hero knows is when his buddy blanks him.
If you believe the stories, coming out has a ruinous effect on your social life. Bringing us neatly to ...
4) Mummy and Daddy Hate You Now
It's every questioning teen's worst fear - that their parents will be unable to accept their sexuality and reject them. The pressure is ramped up still further if they've married or had children. For some reason many parents are fine with gay people in theory, but when it occurs under their very own roof, they're horrified.
Although judgmental Bible quotes are (thankfully) going out of fashion, you're still likely to have one parent who can't stomach the news (typically the same gender as the hero/ine). Cue "Have you tried not being gay?" and "I love you, but I hate what you are" and other sensitive remarks. In such cases they're only reunited on the parent's death bed, and sometimes not even then. If the son or daughter has a lover, expect them to be blamed for initiating their precious darling into a depraved "lifestyle."
5) Stereotypes Galore
Gay people come in all ages, races, religions and backgrounds. Yet you'd never guess that looking at Fictionland: your typical gay man or woman is depicted as white, middle class, atheist and liberal, with disposable income. Although this makes sense on the surface (why belong to a movement that discriminates against you?), it's an idyll that doesn't reflect real people's lives.
Sadly, fiction is often too lazy to establish well rounded characters who also happen to be gay. If they're not the lead, or created by a gay author, they'll be drawn with the crudest strokes. Men are camp, clothes conscious and wannabe Wildes; women are terrifying Lotharios with mohawks and dog collars. While there's been a backlash with the girls - the twenty first century lesbian has been reimagined as a classy, glamorous vixen - portrayals of gay men are stuck in the Seventies.
More than any other genre, LGBT fiction suffers from the "It happened to me!" principle. Yes, you might have caught your step dad lip syncing to Judy Garland or been in love with your PE teacher, but do we really need to know about it? Unless it's played for laughs, angst belongs in the past. Don't perpetuate all the mindless self loathing and violence - do something all your own!
May 1, 2014
Editing
When you write, it's all too easy to get caught up in the exciting side of the process. Brainstorming ideas, buying seductive new stationery, clickety clacking away on your laptop like you're in Murder, She Wrote. Once your first draft is complete, it's tempting to bung it in the nearest envelope and mail it away to an undoubtedly delighted publisher.
That isn't how it works.
Often, an author has only read their novel all the way through once, or staggered it over a number of sessions (reading a 400+ page novel takes ages). This isn't anywhere near enough to ensure it's of publishable quality. You can have the best plot and characters in the world, but if your manuscript is cluttered with typos and inconsistencies, an agent is unlikely to read past the first page.
It may seem shallow, but think about it: an employer scanning the CVs of two equally qualified candidates will select the well presented, accurate one over the scruffy, unintelligible one. The same holds true for your MS.
Spelling and grammar
News flash: not all writers are excellent spellers. Daphne du Maurier's was dreadful; luckily she had the understanding Victor Gollancz as a publisher. Nowadays the market is far more competitive and publishers have to be ruthless. Don't give them this most basic of reasons to reject your work.
If you know spelling is your weak point, spell check your MS within an inch of its life. Pay a proofreader if you can afford it. Indeed, a human touch is preferable- your spell check won't spot commonly confused words or sentences that don't make any sense. I was recently reading a book where every time the word 'stationery' (i.e pens and paper) appeared, it was spelt 'stationary' as in still, and 'past' (as in 'the man walked past') as 'passed'. Perhaps I'm too finicky but it really detracted from my enjoyment. Considering this book has been extensively hyped, it's surprising nobody has picked up on this.
Nor should it be any different if you self publish. Not only does poor spelling offend the reader, it'll seem to confirm oft heard arguments that self published authors are sloppy, lazy, untalented etc. Confound expectations and make your MS as professional as you can.
Clangers
It would be wonderful if writing could be linear, but in reality it's higgledy piggledy. You might have a crisis of confidence and shove your book in a drawer for a month. You may write chapters out of chronological order. You might change your mind and delete entire sections, or stick new ones in.
When this happens, it's easy to fall down the gaps. You may decide to change your heroine's name but forget to do it in all instances. If the story's heavily autobiographical, you may slip your own name in by accident (this occurs in works by respected authors!) A scene may begin in tropical heat and end in a snowstorm; flowers may bloom at the wrong time of year; characters' ages, appearances and personalities may drastically change. Again, this isn't confined to amateurs; Sir Arthur Conan Doyle could never remember where Watson's war wound was located. At one point he even forgets the good doctor's name!
Lack of research
Back in the day, a writer could be forgiven (if not excused) for making mistakes. Now, with the Internet at your fingertips, you can access every piece of esoteric knowledge on the planet.
Unsure about the exact provenance of a quote? Don't know who the first man in space was? Google it. As we all know from real life, there's few things as irritating as somebody gabbling on when we know the answer! A lackadaisical attitude is particularly offensive when it's a major plot point. I have no idea which version of Swan Lake the writers of Black Swan had watched, but it's nothing like the ballet I know and love.
Words
Writers love words, and a thesaurus should never be far away. But are you positive you're using the right ones?
It never ceases to astonish how many writers misuse words and expressions. It's as though they've thought: "Oh, that sounds good," but not troubled to look it up. I've read about heroines with 'transparent' skin (yuk!), seen 'truculent' as a substitute of shy and retiring (it most certainly is not) and all kinds of meanings attached to 'insidious'. A favourite seems to be 'egregious'; you could play a drinking game for every time it's used online. For the record, it means "outstandingly bad", not the various permutations it's undergone!
True story: I once wrote an article for the school newspaper, opening: "Perceptive parents will have noticed." Somewhere, somehow, this was changed to "prospective parents", which makes no sense at all! This happened sixteen years ago, but I can still remember how angry and upset I was that it had been changed - not to mention the fact that nobody else seemed to notice!
Although we're often advised against using common expressions on the grounds they're cliched (another overused word!), a world where they're never employed would be a surreal place. Bar idiosyncratic ones you've created, it's jarring when you get them wrong. Once they've figured out what you mean, a reader will think, "That's in common parlance, how did they mix it up?" If a character is intended to be pretentious but thick or have difficulty with such expressions, go ahead; if it's in the narrative, there's an issue.
Formatting
I have a confession to make: when I started my creative writing course, my formatting was appalling. I didn't have a clue about paragraphs, indents and spacing. Then, as now, I was a voracious reader, and tried to put what I'd seen into practice, but it wasn't enough. You need to actively learn.
Regard formatting as a gift to the reader. It's your duty to make it as clear and easy to follow as possible. Be consistent: if you've used speech marks up to now, don't suddenly jack them in. Break up paragraphs- there's nothing more intimidating to your reader than a solid block of text, no end in sight. Make sure your punctuation flows and, more to the point, does its job.
Remember...
Like much else, editing is highly personal. You might prefer to bash it out over a long weekend, or proofread as you go along. Since we all reach a stage where we can't see errors for looking, it's worth printing it out and arming yourself with a multicoloured biro. Use different colours for the different types of slip up.
Even then you can never 100% guarantee that you've found every mistake. I know there are typos in my books, and blush whenever I think of them. The most important thing is to prevent it becoming a pattern: while a reader may make allowances for the odd typo or rogue comma, they won't by the tenth.
That isn't how it works.
Often, an author has only read their novel all the way through once, or staggered it over a number of sessions (reading a 400+ page novel takes ages). This isn't anywhere near enough to ensure it's of publishable quality. You can have the best plot and characters in the world, but if your manuscript is cluttered with typos and inconsistencies, an agent is unlikely to read past the first page.
It may seem shallow, but think about it: an employer scanning the CVs of two equally qualified candidates will select the well presented, accurate one over the scruffy, unintelligible one. The same holds true for your MS.
Spelling and grammar
News flash: not all writers are excellent spellers. Daphne du Maurier's was dreadful; luckily she had the understanding Victor Gollancz as a publisher. Nowadays the market is far more competitive and publishers have to be ruthless. Don't give them this most basic of reasons to reject your work.
If you know spelling is your weak point, spell check your MS within an inch of its life. Pay a proofreader if you can afford it. Indeed, a human touch is preferable- your spell check won't spot commonly confused words or sentences that don't make any sense. I was recently reading a book where every time the word 'stationery' (i.e pens and paper) appeared, it was spelt 'stationary' as in still, and 'past' (as in 'the man walked past') as 'passed'. Perhaps I'm too finicky but it really detracted from my enjoyment. Considering this book has been extensively hyped, it's surprising nobody has picked up on this.
Nor should it be any different if you self publish. Not only does poor spelling offend the reader, it'll seem to confirm oft heard arguments that self published authors are sloppy, lazy, untalented etc. Confound expectations and make your MS as professional as you can.
Clangers
It would be wonderful if writing could be linear, but in reality it's higgledy piggledy. You might have a crisis of confidence and shove your book in a drawer for a month. You may write chapters out of chronological order. You might change your mind and delete entire sections, or stick new ones in.
When this happens, it's easy to fall down the gaps. You may decide to change your heroine's name but forget to do it in all instances. If the story's heavily autobiographical, you may slip your own name in by accident (this occurs in works by respected authors!) A scene may begin in tropical heat and end in a snowstorm; flowers may bloom at the wrong time of year; characters' ages, appearances and personalities may drastically change. Again, this isn't confined to amateurs; Sir Arthur Conan Doyle could never remember where Watson's war wound was located. At one point he even forgets the good doctor's name!
Lack of research
Back in the day, a writer could be forgiven (if not excused) for making mistakes. Now, with the Internet at your fingertips, you can access every piece of esoteric knowledge on the planet.
Unsure about the exact provenance of a quote? Don't know who the first man in space was? Google it. As we all know from real life, there's few things as irritating as somebody gabbling on when we know the answer! A lackadaisical attitude is particularly offensive when it's a major plot point. I have no idea which version of Swan Lake the writers of Black Swan had watched, but it's nothing like the ballet I know and love.
Words
Writers love words, and a thesaurus should never be far away. But are you positive you're using the right ones?
It never ceases to astonish how many writers misuse words and expressions. It's as though they've thought: "Oh, that sounds good," but not troubled to look it up. I've read about heroines with 'transparent' skin (yuk!), seen 'truculent' as a substitute of shy and retiring (it most certainly is not) and all kinds of meanings attached to 'insidious'. A favourite seems to be 'egregious'; you could play a drinking game for every time it's used online. For the record, it means "outstandingly bad", not the various permutations it's undergone!
True story: I once wrote an article for the school newspaper, opening: "Perceptive parents will have noticed." Somewhere, somehow, this was changed to "prospective parents", which makes no sense at all! This happened sixteen years ago, but I can still remember how angry and upset I was that it had been changed - not to mention the fact that nobody else seemed to notice!
Although we're often advised against using common expressions on the grounds they're cliched (another overused word!), a world where they're never employed would be a surreal place. Bar idiosyncratic ones you've created, it's jarring when you get them wrong. Once they've figured out what you mean, a reader will think, "That's in common parlance, how did they mix it up?" If a character is intended to be pretentious but thick or have difficulty with such expressions, go ahead; if it's in the narrative, there's an issue.
Formatting
I have a confession to make: when I started my creative writing course, my formatting was appalling. I didn't have a clue about paragraphs, indents and spacing. Then, as now, I was a voracious reader, and tried to put what I'd seen into practice, but it wasn't enough. You need to actively learn.
Regard formatting as a gift to the reader. It's your duty to make it as clear and easy to follow as possible. Be consistent: if you've used speech marks up to now, don't suddenly jack them in. Break up paragraphs- there's nothing more intimidating to your reader than a solid block of text, no end in sight. Make sure your punctuation flows and, more to the point, does its job.
Remember...
Like much else, editing is highly personal. You might prefer to bash it out over a long weekend, or proofread as you go along. Since we all reach a stage where we can't see errors for looking, it's worth printing it out and arming yourself with a multicoloured biro. Use different colours for the different types of slip up.
Even then you can never 100% guarantee that you've found every mistake. I know there are typos in my books, and blush whenever I think of them. The most important thing is to prevent it becoming a pattern: while a reader may make allowances for the odd typo or rogue comma, they won't by the tenth.
April 24, 2014
Chopping and Changing: Edits Made in Adaptation
Adapting a work for the screen is a fascinating process; one that doesn't receive enough critical attention. The choice of material is interesting in itself: is it a runaway best seller at the peak of its popularity? Is it a much loved classic, viewed from a fresh perspective? Has it been plucked from obscurity, its subject speaking to modern mores?
What can be even more of an eye opener are the changes made by the adapter. Characters can be reimagined or excised, finales rewritten, settings modernised. While some might yell, "Sacrilege!", others may approve of the alterations. After all, you can't be expected to fit every line and nuance of a 400 page novel into ninety minutes.
Here is a quick rundown of what can happen when the big Tippex in the sky descends. Watch out, it could be you ...
Character hot pot
When an adapter condenses a story, one of the first things they'll look at is characters, especially if it's a sprawling nineteenth century novel with an enormous cast. Think of the hundreds of named extras in Harry Potter: as well as providing a retirement fund for Britain's aging thespians, devotees would have made a fuss if this teacher or that ghost hadn't appeared. (And did: Peeves the poltergeist, reportedly played by comedian Rik Mayall, was left on the cutting room floor).
The less sentimental adapter can afford to be ruthless. Do you really need two Bingley sisters in Pride and Prejudice? All Mrs Hurst does is titter at her sister's bitchy remarks; it's Caroline who's the active character, fancying Darcy and hating Lizzy. It's not surprising that she and her equally insipid husband are frequently cut. (Though the 1996 adaptation made a running joke of his uselessness- he was always lying in a drunken stupor in the corner of the room!) The same applies for a bully's henchmen, weird coworkers, no mark boyfriends (unless he's the obstacle standing in the way of the heroine's happiness) and pets, however endearing they may be.
Sometimes the adapter may go against the grain, adding or changing existing characters. Is your adventure story something of a sausage fest? Why not improve the ratio by introducing a brand new character or turning one of the guys into a girl? This presents all sorts of problems: fans will resent this interloper; she may have little to do but be a damsel in distress and be fought over by the men; alternatively she may be a one note "plucky girl" who teaches the motley crew of misogynists she's as capable as any man (yawn!) Professor Summerlee is often turned into a woman in adaptations of The Lost World - a great role for a middle aged actress, but disappointing for fans. It also carries a whiff of sexism: he refuses to believe Challenger at first, having to eat humble pie when he's proved wrong; he is the most argumentative and sharp tongued member of the gang; he studies botany, a traditionally "feminine" science. His age means he's not good in combat situations either, causing you to wonder if writers equate helplessness with being female.
THAT scene
Every novel has an iconic, unforgettable moment. The scene in the graveyard in Great Expectations. Jane Eyre learning the truth about her fiance. Atticus's defence in To Kill a Mockingbird. If you saw the adaptation before you read the book, chances are that's the image in your mind's eye whenever you think of the story. And that's the measure of a brilliant adaptation.
The canny adapter knows that's the scene every fan will be waiting for. They will use every trick in their artillery to realise it: an unusual background, striking lighting, suitably dramatic music. As for viewers new to the story, they need to understand that this is the pivot, that nothing will be the same again.
There are other sequences that, however loved, won't make it. A A Milne decided - rightly - that the Piper at the Gates of Dawn chapter in The Wind in the Willows (when Pan materialises on the Thames) had no place on a stage. Although this may upset the fans, it'll still be there whenever you pick up the book.
Shifts in time and space
Setting can be more elastic than many people suppose. When the Lord Chamberlain's Men performed Julius Caesar, it would have been in doublet and hose; this tradition has carried on down the ages. So why are novels considered sacred?
When classics such as Peter Pan and Rebecca first appeared, they weren't period pieces. The Darling children escaped from an all too recognisable Edwardian London; with its telephones, cars and autopsies, du Maurier's Cornwall was bang up to date. Now these trappings have become indelibly associated with these works- if somebody suggested moving Peter Pan to a tower block in the present day, there'd be an outcry.
Should a work be modernised? A growing number of adaptations suggest they can: the surfeit of American high school films borrowing from the classics (the most recent being Easy A, a take on The Scarlet Letter), transformations into musicals, moving it lock, stock and barrel into now (Sherlock most famously). Oddly, these experiments seem to date faster than the source text; while they can stand alone, they're mere blips on the cultural radar.
Ch-ch-changes
Some adapters go further still, playing fast and loose with themes, character deaths and finales. Andrew Davies is a frequent offender: he changes endings, gave the dastardly Francis Urquhart a new lease of life, inserts lesbians and - most notoriously - had Darcy swimming in the lake. Needless to say, this did NOT happen in the book!
Some changes are understandable. The reasons why Skeeter's mother fires Constantine in The Help are very complicated and require a good deal of setting up; the film not only simplifies it, but underscores her hypocrisy and wish to save face in front of the bigoted society of the time. Others undermine the story: the Hays Code may have decreed that Maxim de Winter couldn't possibly get away with murder, but by changing Rebecca's death into an accident, made it completely ludicrous. Why would an innocent man go to the trouble of sinking the boat? Why not walk off and leave her to be found? Recent adaptations, which accept his culpability without flinching, are far superior, despite the film's trumped up reputation.
What can be even more of an eye opener are the changes made by the adapter. Characters can be reimagined or excised, finales rewritten, settings modernised. While some might yell, "Sacrilege!", others may approve of the alterations. After all, you can't be expected to fit every line and nuance of a 400 page novel into ninety minutes.
Here is a quick rundown of what can happen when the big Tippex in the sky descends. Watch out, it could be you ...
Character hot pot
When an adapter condenses a story, one of the first things they'll look at is characters, especially if it's a sprawling nineteenth century novel with an enormous cast. Think of the hundreds of named extras in Harry Potter: as well as providing a retirement fund for Britain's aging thespians, devotees would have made a fuss if this teacher or that ghost hadn't appeared. (And did: Peeves the poltergeist, reportedly played by comedian Rik Mayall, was left on the cutting room floor).
The less sentimental adapter can afford to be ruthless. Do you really need two Bingley sisters in Pride and Prejudice? All Mrs Hurst does is titter at her sister's bitchy remarks; it's Caroline who's the active character, fancying Darcy and hating Lizzy. It's not surprising that she and her equally insipid husband are frequently cut. (Though the 1996 adaptation made a running joke of his uselessness- he was always lying in a drunken stupor in the corner of the room!) The same applies for a bully's henchmen, weird coworkers, no mark boyfriends (unless he's the obstacle standing in the way of the heroine's happiness) and pets, however endearing they may be.
Sometimes the adapter may go against the grain, adding or changing existing characters. Is your adventure story something of a sausage fest? Why not improve the ratio by introducing a brand new character or turning one of the guys into a girl? This presents all sorts of problems: fans will resent this interloper; she may have little to do but be a damsel in distress and be fought over by the men; alternatively she may be a one note "plucky girl" who teaches the motley crew of misogynists she's as capable as any man (yawn!) Professor Summerlee is often turned into a woman in adaptations of The Lost World - a great role for a middle aged actress, but disappointing for fans. It also carries a whiff of sexism: he refuses to believe Challenger at first, having to eat humble pie when he's proved wrong; he is the most argumentative and sharp tongued member of the gang; he studies botany, a traditionally "feminine" science. His age means he's not good in combat situations either, causing you to wonder if writers equate helplessness with being female.
THAT scene
Every novel has an iconic, unforgettable moment. The scene in the graveyard in Great Expectations. Jane Eyre learning the truth about her fiance. Atticus's defence in To Kill a Mockingbird. If you saw the adaptation before you read the book, chances are that's the image in your mind's eye whenever you think of the story. And that's the measure of a brilliant adaptation.
The canny adapter knows that's the scene every fan will be waiting for. They will use every trick in their artillery to realise it: an unusual background, striking lighting, suitably dramatic music. As for viewers new to the story, they need to understand that this is the pivot, that nothing will be the same again.
There are other sequences that, however loved, won't make it. A A Milne decided - rightly - that the Piper at the Gates of Dawn chapter in The Wind in the Willows (when Pan materialises on the Thames) had no place on a stage. Although this may upset the fans, it'll still be there whenever you pick up the book.
Shifts in time and space
Setting can be more elastic than many people suppose. When the Lord Chamberlain's Men performed Julius Caesar, it would have been in doublet and hose; this tradition has carried on down the ages. So why are novels considered sacred?
When classics such as Peter Pan and Rebecca first appeared, they weren't period pieces. The Darling children escaped from an all too recognisable Edwardian London; with its telephones, cars and autopsies, du Maurier's Cornwall was bang up to date. Now these trappings have become indelibly associated with these works- if somebody suggested moving Peter Pan to a tower block in the present day, there'd be an outcry.
Should a work be modernised? A growing number of adaptations suggest they can: the surfeit of American high school films borrowing from the classics (the most recent being Easy A, a take on The Scarlet Letter), transformations into musicals, moving it lock, stock and barrel into now (Sherlock most famously). Oddly, these experiments seem to date faster than the source text; while they can stand alone, they're mere blips on the cultural radar.
Ch-ch-changes
Some adapters go further still, playing fast and loose with themes, character deaths and finales. Andrew Davies is a frequent offender: he changes endings, gave the dastardly Francis Urquhart a new lease of life, inserts lesbians and - most notoriously - had Darcy swimming in the lake. Needless to say, this did NOT happen in the book!
Some changes are understandable. The reasons why Skeeter's mother fires Constantine in The Help are very complicated and require a good deal of setting up; the film not only simplifies it, but underscores her hypocrisy and wish to save face in front of the bigoted society of the time. Others undermine the story: the Hays Code may have decreed that Maxim de Winter couldn't possibly get away with murder, but by changing Rebecca's death into an accident, made it completely ludicrous. Why would an innocent man go to the trouble of sinking the boat? Why not walk off and leave her to be found? Recent adaptations, which accept his culpability without flinching, are far superior, despite the film's trumped up reputation.
April 21, 2014
Dialogue: Part Two
Last week we touched upon helpful tools for writing dialogue and the effects you can use to make it closer to 'natural' speech. Today we'll discuss how you, the author, present your dialogue to your readers.
Differentiate your characters
This is so crucial, it should have been lesson 1 in the first blog. Never mind: make sure your characters each have their own individual voice.
Yes, there are instances where this wouldn't be appropriate. If you're in a job interview or testifying in court, you wouldn't - or at least shouldn't - indulge in your favourite slang and speech patterns. But the rest of the time, everyone has their own signature style - especially important in the written word, where we can't hear them speak.
So much factors into the way a character speaks. We know a dustman and a duchess would have very different voices, but there's also place of origin, education, career. Do they have delusions of grandeur, malapropping all the time? Do they add tag questions ("Know what I mean?" "Isn't it?") Do they have a speech impediment/impairment (to be handled sensitively; while lisps and stammers might have been joked about twenty years ago, consider that your reader might have one)? Do they insist on using the name of whoever they're talking to?
Don't tell us that the character is witty and articulate; we'll be the judge of that. Don't say they have a potty mouth. Show us. Once a certain characteristic is established, we'll have no trouble knowing who's saying what.
Stop recapping
In some ways, TV and film have done authors a disservice. Thanks to director/writers like Tarantino, everybody's under the impression that a conversation about a lost Action Man is funny, 'real' and adds depth to a character, particularly before a shoot out or other dramatic development.
The trouble is, film is a very different medium to the printed page. A sequence that lasts a minute in a film will take two pages to read, meaning your characters have spent several hundred words gassing about something that has no bearing on the plot. I'm not saying every conversation should be laden with relevance and meaning, but unless it's incredibly important or amusing, you can cut.
Your reader has been to a restaurant or booked a taxi before; they don't need to have these transactions recreated. If your character is bored and frustrated listening to witless natter, you don't need to inflict it on us. Take a leaf out of Jane Austen's book: rather than subject us to more of Mr Collins, fiction's biggest windbag, she dismisses his chitchat as "pompous nothings".
Said
For reasons unknown, generations of kids had it drummed into them that 'said' was bland, unimaginative, inexpressive etc, and a writer should employ any verb at their disposal rather than this innocuous little word.
Poppycock! It's the content that's important, not how they say it. Unless they're whispering, crying or shouting, it really doesn't make one iota of difference. You certainly don't want a page full of unsightly alternatives: 'shrilled', 'expostulated', 'rejoined'. And please stop using ejaculated, unless you're writing another sort of story.
Another puzzling trend: how characters perform an action rather than speak like the rest of us. Can you smirk, guffaw or smile a sentence? Didn't think so.
Also, while we're on the subject, writers seem to have an issue with tags. Either they have a pot pourri, as though we're in danger of forgetting everybody's names, or nobody's speech is tagged, meaning we have to count back to work out who said what. Err on the side of caution: unless you have droves of characters speaking at once, only allocate if they're doing something vital (suspicious fidgeting, an outrageous act of vandalism) or if you wish to draw attention to their mood. Which brings us to ...
Adjectivitis
Another primary school hang up! Back when we were very young, our creative writing teachers encouraged us to use adjectives willy nilly; some writers still cherish this belief.
In the majority of cases, you should have a rough idea from the content. If it's in response to something daft, you gather they're being ironic; if they're clearly emotional, you don't have to say they're intense, overwrought etc. There's a world of difference between an earnest, penitent "I'm sorry!" and a snappy, sarcastic "I'm sorry!" And for heaven's sake don't put "lovingly" or "affectionately" when they're saying sweet nothings. Readers resent being treated like children.
Realism
Granted, writing is a highly artificial form, but there are certain precautions you can take to guarantee that your dialogue rings true to readers.
In real life, people don't listen to each other, frequently interrupt and overlap - try to convey this. People don't spout on for pages unless they're in a position of power, summing up or a verbose bore; it's your duty to make clear which. There's an unwritten law that you take turns in conversations - we all itch when we feel somebody's hogging more than their share.
People try to be polite, meaning it's all the more spectacular when they break the rules. We remember Basil Fawlty's outbursts precisely because they're so unexpected in a hospitality situation. Swearing and verbal abuse should definitely be out! When somebody's nervous, the instance of questions and filler words creeps up; while you can have your characters "erm" and "well", don't use it as regularly as real life, or your reader will get bored.
People adapt their style to the audience and occasion. You wouldn't speak the same way to a boardroom of directors as you would your nine year old niece. You crop swear words, modify your vocabulary, try to be a mainstream and accessible as possible. A character who flouts these rules is inferred by the reader to be deliberately offensive or out of touch. Don't be like the poor vicar who compared prayer to "intercourse with God," not realising the word has different connotations nowadays!
How much?
There is no hard and fast rule to how much dialogue you should have. Many of us flick through a book before choosing it, preferring one with plenty of speech to one with oases.
Of course it depends on the genre. Your lush historical novel might be heavier on description than your hard boiled crime thriller. It varies within the same book too; as it sweeps towards the climax, there's bound to be as much speech as action.
There are two main ways to improve your dialogue skills: research by reading writers you admire, and constant practice. Read it aloud, try it out on would be audiences, work on it separately to get it just right. Persevere - it's well worth the effort.
Differentiate your characters
This is so crucial, it should have been lesson 1 in the first blog. Never mind: make sure your characters each have their own individual voice.
Yes, there are instances where this wouldn't be appropriate. If you're in a job interview or testifying in court, you wouldn't - or at least shouldn't - indulge in your favourite slang and speech patterns. But the rest of the time, everyone has their own signature style - especially important in the written word, where we can't hear them speak.
So much factors into the way a character speaks. We know a dustman and a duchess would have very different voices, but there's also place of origin, education, career. Do they have delusions of grandeur, malapropping all the time? Do they add tag questions ("Know what I mean?" "Isn't it?") Do they have a speech impediment/impairment (to be handled sensitively; while lisps and stammers might have been joked about twenty years ago, consider that your reader might have one)? Do they insist on using the name of whoever they're talking to?
Don't tell us that the character is witty and articulate; we'll be the judge of that. Don't say they have a potty mouth. Show us. Once a certain characteristic is established, we'll have no trouble knowing who's saying what.
Stop recapping
In some ways, TV and film have done authors a disservice. Thanks to director/writers like Tarantino, everybody's under the impression that a conversation about a lost Action Man is funny, 'real' and adds depth to a character, particularly before a shoot out or other dramatic development.
The trouble is, film is a very different medium to the printed page. A sequence that lasts a minute in a film will take two pages to read, meaning your characters have spent several hundred words gassing about something that has no bearing on the plot. I'm not saying every conversation should be laden with relevance and meaning, but unless it's incredibly important or amusing, you can cut.
Your reader has been to a restaurant or booked a taxi before; they don't need to have these transactions recreated. If your character is bored and frustrated listening to witless natter, you don't need to inflict it on us. Take a leaf out of Jane Austen's book: rather than subject us to more of Mr Collins, fiction's biggest windbag, she dismisses his chitchat as "pompous nothings".
Said
For reasons unknown, generations of kids had it drummed into them that 'said' was bland, unimaginative, inexpressive etc, and a writer should employ any verb at their disposal rather than this innocuous little word.
Poppycock! It's the content that's important, not how they say it. Unless they're whispering, crying or shouting, it really doesn't make one iota of difference. You certainly don't want a page full of unsightly alternatives: 'shrilled', 'expostulated', 'rejoined'. And please stop using ejaculated, unless you're writing another sort of story.
Another puzzling trend: how characters perform an action rather than speak like the rest of us. Can you smirk, guffaw or smile a sentence? Didn't think so.
Also, while we're on the subject, writers seem to have an issue with tags. Either they have a pot pourri, as though we're in danger of forgetting everybody's names, or nobody's speech is tagged, meaning we have to count back to work out who said what. Err on the side of caution: unless you have droves of characters speaking at once, only allocate if they're doing something vital (suspicious fidgeting, an outrageous act of vandalism) or if you wish to draw attention to their mood. Which brings us to ...
Adjectivitis
Another primary school hang up! Back when we were very young, our creative writing teachers encouraged us to use adjectives willy nilly; some writers still cherish this belief.
In the majority of cases, you should have a rough idea from the content. If it's in response to something daft, you gather they're being ironic; if they're clearly emotional, you don't have to say they're intense, overwrought etc. There's a world of difference between an earnest, penitent "I'm sorry!" and a snappy, sarcastic "I'm sorry!" And for heaven's sake don't put "lovingly" or "affectionately" when they're saying sweet nothings. Readers resent being treated like children.
Realism
Granted, writing is a highly artificial form, but there are certain precautions you can take to guarantee that your dialogue rings true to readers.
In real life, people don't listen to each other, frequently interrupt and overlap - try to convey this. People don't spout on for pages unless they're in a position of power, summing up or a verbose bore; it's your duty to make clear which. There's an unwritten law that you take turns in conversations - we all itch when we feel somebody's hogging more than their share.
People try to be polite, meaning it's all the more spectacular when they break the rules. We remember Basil Fawlty's outbursts precisely because they're so unexpected in a hospitality situation. Swearing and verbal abuse should definitely be out! When somebody's nervous, the instance of questions and filler words creeps up; while you can have your characters "erm" and "well", don't use it as regularly as real life, or your reader will get bored.
People adapt their style to the audience and occasion. You wouldn't speak the same way to a boardroom of directors as you would your nine year old niece. You crop swear words, modify your vocabulary, try to be a mainstream and accessible as possible. A character who flouts these rules is inferred by the reader to be deliberately offensive or out of touch. Don't be like the poor vicar who compared prayer to "intercourse with God," not realising the word has different connotations nowadays!
How much?
There is no hard and fast rule to how much dialogue you should have. Many of us flick through a book before choosing it, preferring one with plenty of speech to one with oases.
Of course it depends on the genre. Your lush historical novel might be heavier on description than your hard boiled crime thriller. It varies within the same book too; as it sweeps towards the climax, there's bound to be as much speech as action.
There are two main ways to improve your dialogue skills: research by reading writers you admire, and constant practice. Read it aloud, try it out on would be audiences, work on it separately to get it just right. Persevere - it's well worth the effort.
