Rachael Eyre's Blog, page 16
April 14, 2014
Dialogue: Part One
Dialogue is to novels what sound must have been to the movies. You can have pages of exquisite description, but it's all a bit staid and ponderous. You can show your character walking to work, but he or she doesn't truly come alive until the moment they speak.
Despite this (or maybe because), many authors find writing dialogue challenging. A rare few are held up as models: Pinter's dialogue is said to be so naturalistic it sounds like real speech, yet even his is pruned of non essentials, fillers etc. Others apparently believe that peppering dialogue with swear words lends it a gritty authenticity, but more than a page of this can tax your reader's patience.
Since this is a huge topic, I'll tackle it in a pair of blogs. Today I'll look at 2 separate issues: where to find inspiration for your dialogue, to make it as dynamic and interesting as possible; and the content of characters' speech, i.e dialect, accents, swearing and time period.
Listen
Conversations are going on all around you. On the bus, at work, in the supermarket - soak it up. Real conversations can be funnier than anything a standup can devise, with an intuitive grasp of timing and back and forth. I'm not suggesting you transcribe them verbatim (your colleagues will start demanding royalties!), but it's worth jotting down conversations that made you laugh or intrigued you. If it had this effect on a bystander, imagine what it'll do to a reader.
TV and radio
Next time you're watching TV, do some research. Find a show in the genre you're writing - comedy, thriller, drama- and pay close attention to the dialogue. Is it convincing? Does it grip you? It doesn't necessarily have to be fiction; you might find talk shows or documentaries provide useful insights.
Radio is a treasure trove of dialogue, especially the comedies. Two brilliant examples are Cabin Pressure, a sitcom about a commercial airline and its madcap crew, and Down the Line, a pitch perfect parody of radio phone ins. Although undoubtedly helped by great acting, the writing in these shows is first rate.
Accents and dialects
In less sensitive times, writers portrayed the speech as anyone non white or non U as a bewildering mass of hieroglyphs. Presumably meant to be read aloud, it resulted in a noise quite unlike whatever was intended. For your average reader at home, it was a mental workout on par with the Times crossword without a dictionary.
Even if this is your own accent and you believe you can faithfully reproduce it - don't. If you don't offend readers with the accent, you'll alienate people who haven't heard it before, and certainly not this mangled version. I still remember how frustrated I was with a minor character in V for Vendetta. Alone of all the cast, he has a thick Glaswegian accent, which Alan Moore decided to recreate phonetically. You have to read it aloud to make sense of it, and not always then.
Mention it in passing - "soft Welsh lilt", "harsh Scouse accent" - and be done with it. If you're really worried about it, get somebody with the accent to help you out.
Dialect is another case in point. In moderation it can add real flavour; if overdone, your poor readers will have to sprint for an urban dictionary every few minutes. Ask yourself if the character would plausibly use that phrase, if it's relevant, if the reader can understand from the context.
Slang
If dialogue is passé before the ink dries, slang is doubly so. We automatically think of posh slang from a bygone era (spiffing, ripping) or hippy catchphrases (groovy, way out) but surely you can remember phrases from your own lifetime that have died out.
Think before you use slang. Will it date your novel? Will people outside your age group or geographical area understand? Would your character use slang in the first place? Check urban dictionaries to be sure it's still in vogue.
Swearing and slurs
Swearing is a matter of taste. There are readers who are so offended by an f-word, they hurl the book away; others shrug as characters eff and jeff. You need to reach a happy medium: as Eliza Dolittle's Freudian slip shows, a little profanity well employed has a far greater impact than reams of the stuff. If your characters are foul mouthed nihilists, fair enough - otherwise it seems a clumsy attempt to shock.
Slurs should be used sparingly - and carefully. Unless your novel is set in another time (and even then I'd advise against it), do NOT have your heroine use ethnic slurs. Just because you're blasé about such language doesn't mean your reader will be. Personally I'm incensed by the way "gay" became a synonym for rubbish a few years ago; while it's thankfully fading away, I'd look askance at an allegedly intelligent, educated person using such language.
Other time periods
Writing dialogue for other time periods is a tricky feat. You know not to drop obvious clangers - slang and swearing being a definite no-no - but how long have common phrases been in use? How would you address a social inferior, or a superior for that matter? What about the finer subtleties of interpersonal relationships, far stricter than today?
The truth is, we will never know; the best we can manage is a hazy reenactment. Read both fiction and non fiction about the period in question; you'll likely be surprised by how contemporary people sounded. With few adjustments, Conan Doyle characters could be speaking today.
Whatever you do, do NOT attempt the cobbled together mess often found in older works, where characters all but proclaim, "Gadzooks, I'm in the sixteenth century!" Throwing in the odd "Marry," "Prithee" and other Shakespearean rip offs do not enforce a sense of place, but makes the reader laugh. You can just about get away with it in a comedy but it grates in a serious novel.
Despite this (or maybe because), many authors find writing dialogue challenging. A rare few are held up as models: Pinter's dialogue is said to be so naturalistic it sounds like real speech, yet even his is pruned of non essentials, fillers etc. Others apparently believe that peppering dialogue with swear words lends it a gritty authenticity, but more than a page of this can tax your reader's patience.
Since this is a huge topic, I'll tackle it in a pair of blogs. Today I'll look at 2 separate issues: where to find inspiration for your dialogue, to make it as dynamic and interesting as possible; and the content of characters' speech, i.e dialect, accents, swearing and time period.
Listen
Conversations are going on all around you. On the bus, at work, in the supermarket - soak it up. Real conversations can be funnier than anything a standup can devise, with an intuitive grasp of timing and back and forth. I'm not suggesting you transcribe them verbatim (your colleagues will start demanding royalties!), but it's worth jotting down conversations that made you laugh or intrigued you. If it had this effect on a bystander, imagine what it'll do to a reader.
TV and radio
Next time you're watching TV, do some research. Find a show in the genre you're writing - comedy, thriller, drama- and pay close attention to the dialogue. Is it convincing? Does it grip you? It doesn't necessarily have to be fiction; you might find talk shows or documentaries provide useful insights.
Radio is a treasure trove of dialogue, especially the comedies. Two brilliant examples are Cabin Pressure, a sitcom about a commercial airline and its madcap crew, and Down the Line, a pitch perfect parody of radio phone ins. Although undoubtedly helped by great acting, the writing in these shows is first rate.
Accents and dialects
In less sensitive times, writers portrayed the speech as anyone non white or non U as a bewildering mass of hieroglyphs. Presumably meant to be read aloud, it resulted in a noise quite unlike whatever was intended. For your average reader at home, it was a mental workout on par with the Times crossword without a dictionary.
Even if this is your own accent and you believe you can faithfully reproduce it - don't. If you don't offend readers with the accent, you'll alienate people who haven't heard it before, and certainly not this mangled version. I still remember how frustrated I was with a minor character in V for Vendetta. Alone of all the cast, he has a thick Glaswegian accent, which Alan Moore decided to recreate phonetically. You have to read it aloud to make sense of it, and not always then.
Mention it in passing - "soft Welsh lilt", "harsh Scouse accent" - and be done with it. If you're really worried about it, get somebody with the accent to help you out.
Dialect is another case in point. In moderation it can add real flavour; if overdone, your poor readers will have to sprint for an urban dictionary every few minutes. Ask yourself if the character would plausibly use that phrase, if it's relevant, if the reader can understand from the context.
Slang
If dialogue is passé before the ink dries, slang is doubly so. We automatically think of posh slang from a bygone era (spiffing, ripping) or hippy catchphrases (groovy, way out) but surely you can remember phrases from your own lifetime that have died out.
Think before you use slang. Will it date your novel? Will people outside your age group or geographical area understand? Would your character use slang in the first place? Check urban dictionaries to be sure it's still in vogue.
Swearing and slurs
Swearing is a matter of taste. There are readers who are so offended by an f-word, they hurl the book away; others shrug as characters eff and jeff. You need to reach a happy medium: as Eliza Dolittle's Freudian slip shows, a little profanity well employed has a far greater impact than reams of the stuff. If your characters are foul mouthed nihilists, fair enough - otherwise it seems a clumsy attempt to shock.
Slurs should be used sparingly - and carefully. Unless your novel is set in another time (and even then I'd advise against it), do NOT have your heroine use ethnic slurs. Just because you're blasé about such language doesn't mean your reader will be. Personally I'm incensed by the way "gay" became a synonym for rubbish a few years ago; while it's thankfully fading away, I'd look askance at an allegedly intelligent, educated person using such language.
Other time periods
Writing dialogue for other time periods is a tricky feat. You know not to drop obvious clangers - slang and swearing being a definite no-no - but how long have common phrases been in use? How would you address a social inferior, or a superior for that matter? What about the finer subtleties of interpersonal relationships, far stricter than today?
The truth is, we will never know; the best we can manage is a hazy reenactment. Read both fiction and non fiction about the period in question; you'll likely be surprised by how contemporary people sounded. With few adjustments, Conan Doyle characters could be speaking today.
Whatever you do, do NOT attempt the cobbled together mess often found in older works, where characters all but proclaim, "Gadzooks, I'm in the sixteenth century!" Throwing in the odd "Marry," "Prithee" and other Shakespearean rip offs do not enforce a sense of place, but makes the reader laugh. You can just about get away with it in a comedy but it grates in a serious novel.
April 6, 2014
Don't Make Your Reader Hate Your Character
(Sorry about the hiatus. As well as settling into a new job, I suffered a profound case of writers' block January - March. Thankfully that's been overcome; the intention is to make this blog bigger and better, and to cover as wide a range of topics as possible. The aim is to write at least one blog a week, hopefully more).
As a writer, one of the most useful things you can learn is what makes readers abandon a book. While bad writing, an unoriginal plot and frustration with pacing can all help a reader to switch off, one issue that comes up time and time again - and it has certainly been instrumental in making me chuck books - is unlikable characters. When the problem is the lead, it's magnified tenfold.
How can you avoid falling into this trap? Although by no means exhaustive, here is a collection of reasons why your characters might alienate potential readers.
1) You're in love with your character
We're all partial to our characters, particularly the heroes. It stand to reason: we spend so much time with them, and it's a delight thinking up new things for them to say and do. But there are some authors whose interest seems to go one step further: authors where you want to tell them and the character to get a room.
Gushing over their godlike looks. Chortling over some average witticism they've made. Describing everything they do, even walking the dog or eating a Pot Noodle, with the hypertrophied language of romance. If your reader hasn't been similarly bowled over by Mr Wonderful, they'll have a feeling of complete disassociation as people fall in love with him, fight for him, follow him. It's the literary equivalent of the popular crowd in American high school films: in their own little bubble they rule the world, when in reality they're just a gaggle of superficial teenagers.
Have a close look at the character. Are you sure he's not your fantasy boyfriend made flesh? Does he really have to whip his lustrous tresses around like he's in a shampoo ad? If he's too perfect, give him flaws; if he's a jerk who everyone inexplicably loves, give him some depth.
2) They're you
This is a true story. Back when I was studying creative writing at uni, one of the students had written a piece about a boy who cheats on his girlfriend with her best friend. Although it wasn't spelt out, it was plainly autobiographical.
Cue our tutor's assessment. She really laid into the 'character' , calling him selfish, egotistical, devoid of all scruples- you should've seen him squirm.
Though undoubtedly humiliating, this is a valuable lesson: the reader doesn't know you, so can judge your actions as a bystander. You might be proud of the stunt you pulled on a nasty teacher or the time you had six one night stands in a week, but that doesn't mean everyone's going to view your exploits with rose tinted glasses. It's worse if - as with my fellow student - the border between fact and fiction is non existent. The reader's perfectly justified in thinking that not only do they dislike your book, you sound like a heel too.
3) They're shallow
We all make snap judgments. Who hasn't met a new acquaintance and thought "Too loud" or "He should do something about his hair?"
These thoughts are fine inside your head, where they belong. But if a character has them, that's a different kettle of fish. It may be this tendency to dismiss people within seconds that turns your readers off. Not everybody reading your book is going to be slender and stylish with film star looks. If they lambast another character for being overweight, spotty, having BO or bad breath, you risk making your lead look like a total bitch and losing your reader's sympathy. A personal peeve is "She hadn't made an effort" about female characters, as if she has to fit a narrow definition of femininity to be attractive!
If you want your character to take a dislike to somebody, give them a valid reason. Make the other person snide, a bully or a bore. Don't write them off based on their appearance.
4) They're bigoted
Hoo, boy. Though not as common nowadays, the fastest way to put readers off is to have a prejudiced protagonist. We might make allowances for this behaviour in real life - "That's my Uncle Eddie, don't mind him"- but you can't answer for intolerant old relatives. In a book, you make the final cut, so including bigotry will raise an eyebrow at the very least. If a heroine makes racist, homophobic or disablist remarks, a reader will assume you condone such views, or even hold them yourself.
Some writers deliberately insert prejudice into stories, thinking it's edgy. Don't. Unless it's part of the character's journey, and they shed their outdated values, it's too dicy. Only do this if they're intentionally unsympathetic.
5) They whine
In cult disaster spoof Airplane, the hero sits next to a series of fellow passengers, telling them his long, angst ridden life story. Whenever we return to the present, we discover the passenger has killed themselves.
While obviously exaggerated for comedy, a character who bemoans their lot has a similar effect on readers. Yes, they may have been left on the Church of Satan's doorstep at three days old, been passed around like a parcel and hated by everyone, we get it. That's no excuse for acting like a toe rag now, or continually complaining.
Even worse is when their problems are trivial. They haven't got a date? Their roots are showing? They're jealous of their successful friend? Big deal!
Unlike the passengers, your reader can simply put the book down and walk away. Don't forget that.
6) They're unbelievable
Realism is relative. Fictional characters are, by their very nature, larger than life - who wants to read about Jane Jones, librarian?- but there's a difference between being colourful and being completely implausible.
You are not going to have a twenty six year old President of the US, however charismatic or brilliant they may be. Whatever Ian Fleming might have thought, nobody is sexually irresistible to everyone they meet. Your heroine will not have read the entire literary canon at 16, child prodigy or no.
Readers demand more depth and substance to their characters. A gorgeous polymath who also happens to be a lovely person is not a refreshing take on an old stereotype; she makes us reach for the sick bag.
7) They're gimmicky
Personally I blame Sherlock Holmes. Don't get me wrong, I've been a fervid admirer of the Great Detective for years. But thanks to his enormous success, many writers believe that all it takes to make a franchise is somebody tall and snarky with anti social tendencies, a few weird foibles and a long suffering friend. Extra points if they "don't do" romance (unless it's with the friend).
A character is more than an array of bon mots or funny clothes. They need a history, goals, fears. Don't give them an eccentric hobby or idiosyncrasy and expect the personality to turn up- it doesn't happen like that.
The same applies to catchphrases. Said once or twice, they're amusing and a good indication of character; said every time they appear, it will send readers potty. Holmes only said "The game is afoot" a few times - and "Elementary, my dear Watson" NEVER.
As a writer, one of the most useful things you can learn is what makes readers abandon a book. While bad writing, an unoriginal plot and frustration with pacing can all help a reader to switch off, one issue that comes up time and time again - and it has certainly been instrumental in making me chuck books - is unlikable characters. When the problem is the lead, it's magnified tenfold.
How can you avoid falling into this trap? Although by no means exhaustive, here is a collection of reasons why your characters might alienate potential readers.
1) You're in love with your character
We're all partial to our characters, particularly the heroes. It stand to reason: we spend so much time with them, and it's a delight thinking up new things for them to say and do. But there are some authors whose interest seems to go one step further: authors where you want to tell them and the character to get a room.
Gushing over their godlike looks. Chortling over some average witticism they've made. Describing everything they do, even walking the dog or eating a Pot Noodle, with the hypertrophied language of romance. If your reader hasn't been similarly bowled over by Mr Wonderful, they'll have a feeling of complete disassociation as people fall in love with him, fight for him, follow him. It's the literary equivalent of the popular crowd in American high school films: in their own little bubble they rule the world, when in reality they're just a gaggle of superficial teenagers.
Have a close look at the character. Are you sure he's not your fantasy boyfriend made flesh? Does he really have to whip his lustrous tresses around like he's in a shampoo ad? If he's too perfect, give him flaws; if he's a jerk who everyone inexplicably loves, give him some depth.
2) They're you
This is a true story. Back when I was studying creative writing at uni, one of the students had written a piece about a boy who cheats on his girlfriend with her best friend. Although it wasn't spelt out, it was plainly autobiographical.
Cue our tutor's assessment. She really laid into the 'character' , calling him selfish, egotistical, devoid of all scruples- you should've seen him squirm.
Though undoubtedly humiliating, this is a valuable lesson: the reader doesn't know you, so can judge your actions as a bystander. You might be proud of the stunt you pulled on a nasty teacher or the time you had six one night stands in a week, but that doesn't mean everyone's going to view your exploits with rose tinted glasses. It's worse if - as with my fellow student - the border between fact and fiction is non existent. The reader's perfectly justified in thinking that not only do they dislike your book, you sound like a heel too.
3) They're shallow
We all make snap judgments. Who hasn't met a new acquaintance and thought "Too loud" or "He should do something about his hair?"
These thoughts are fine inside your head, where they belong. But if a character has them, that's a different kettle of fish. It may be this tendency to dismiss people within seconds that turns your readers off. Not everybody reading your book is going to be slender and stylish with film star looks. If they lambast another character for being overweight, spotty, having BO or bad breath, you risk making your lead look like a total bitch and losing your reader's sympathy. A personal peeve is "She hadn't made an effort" about female characters, as if she has to fit a narrow definition of femininity to be attractive!
If you want your character to take a dislike to somebody, give them a valid reason. Make the other person snide, a bully or a bore. Don't write them off based on their appearance.
4) They're bigoted
Hoo, boy. Though not as common nowadays, the fastest way to put readers off is to have a prejudiced protagonist. We might make allowances for this behaviour in real life - "That's my Uncle Eddie, don't mind him"- but you can't answer for intolerant old relatives. In a book, you make the final cut, so including bigotry will raise an eyebrow at the very least. If a heroine makes racist, homophobic or disablist remarks, a reader will assume you condone such views, or even hold them yourself.
Some writers deliberately insert prejudice into stories, thinking it's edgy. Don't. Unless it's part of the character's journey, and they shed their outdated values, it's too dicy. Only do this if they're intentionally unsympathetic.
5) They whine
In cult disaster spoof Airplane, the hero sits next to a series of fellow passengers, telling them his long, angst ridden life story. Whenever we return to the present, we discover the passenger has killed themselves.
While obviously exaggerated for comedy, a character who bemoans their lot has a similar effect on readers. Yes, they may have been left on the Church of Satan's doorstep at three days old, been passed around like a parcel and hated by everyone, we get it. That's no excuse for acting like a toe rag now, or continually complaining.
Even worse is when their problems are trivial. They haven't got a date? Their roots are showing? They're jealous of their successful friend? Big deal!
Unlike the passengers, your reader can simply put the book down and walk away. Don't forget that.
6) They're unbelievable
Realism is relative. Fictional characters are, by their very nature, larger than life - who wants to read about Jane Jones, librarian?- but there's a difference between being colourful and being completely implausible.
You are not going to have a twenty six year old President of the US, however charismatic or brilliant they may be. Whatever Ian Fleming might have thought, nobody is sexually irresistible to everyone they meet. Your heroine will not have read the entire literary canon at 16, child prodigy or no.
Readers demand more depth and substance to their characters. A gorgeous polymath who also happens to be a lovely person is not a refreshing take on an old stereotype; she makes us reach for the sick bag.
7) They're gimmicky
Personally I blame Sherlock Holmes. Don't get me wrong, I've been a fervid admirer of the Great Detective for years. But thanks to his enormous success, many writers believe that all it takes to make a franchise is somebody tall and snarky with anti social tendencies, a few weird foibles and a long suffering friend. Extra points if they "don't do" romance (unless it's with the friend).
A character is more than an array of bon mots or funny clothes. They need a history, goals, fears. Don't give them an eccentric hobby or idiosyncrasy and expect the personality to turn up- it doesn't happen like that.
The same applies to catchphrases. Said once or twice, they're amusing and a good indication of character; said every time they appear, it will send readers potty. Holmes only said "The game is afoot" a few times - and "Elementary, my dear Watson" NEVER.
December 2, 2013
The Tintinabulation of Titles
What's the first thing that snatches your attention when you're looking for a book? Is it the name on the spine? The cover? Its position on the best seller list?
Nope- the first thing to get your senses tingling, nine times out of ten, is the title. Whether it's elegant, intriguing or downright bizarre, it's what makes you do a double take in the library, or click on its icon in Kindle. Unsurprisingly, it's also incredibly difficult to come up with one with the appropriate amount of zing.
Some authors like to use quotations; before I learned there was a successful book of the same name, Rose Grubb was very nearly called The Poison Tree. To my way of thinking, it was perfect: the William Blake poem masterfully captures the feelings you have towards your enemies, and how- if you could get away with it- you would bring about their destruction.
Shakespeare, the Bible and poetry are common sources for titles- after all, the Bard has a better way with words than you or I could dream of. It does have the slight drawback that you're suggesting your story belongs up there with Hamlet, Othello and the rest. You could always go in for a bit of self quotation, like To Kill a Mockingbird or The Catcher in the Rye, but it should be sufficiently interesting to grab a reader's notice and not alienate people who haven't read the book.
My personal favourite titles are symbolic- it gives you a far better snapshot of the book than plain old 'A Man on Neptune' or 'The Storyteller's Apprentice'. For example, Frost in May by Antonia White- it's the story of a bright little girl at a convent school, and how her "sinful" pride is her undoing. What could be more damaging to a new plant than frost turning up overnight? And while I'm not a fan of Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series, Breaking Dawn was a great choice for the instalment where Bella finally becomes a vampire.
Don't commit to a title right away; you don't want to strait jacket your book. Play around, have a good hard think about the themes, the characters and the impression you want your reader to take away. If you know this is something you have difficulties with, ask for a second opinion. If you heard that title or saw it on a shelf, would you want to investigate? Avoid confusion where possible: don't choose one that sounds similar to another novel or mislead people. Thanks to the title 'V for Vendetta', it's often assumed that is the anarchist hero's name, rather than V (the Roman numeral five).
There's bound to be a sublime title for your book out there- it's simply a case of teasing it out!
Nope- the first thing to get your senses tingling, nine times out of ten, is the title. Whether it's elegant, intriguing or downright bizarre, it's what makes you do a double take in the library, or click on its icon in Kindle. Unsurprisingly, it's also incredibly difficult to come up with one with the appropriate amount of zing.
Some authors like to use quotations; before I learned there was a successful book of the same name, Rose Grubb was very nearly called The Poison Tree. To my way of thinking, it was perfect: the William Blake poem masterfully captures the feelings you have towards your enemies, and how- if you could get away with it- you would bring about their destruction.
Shakespeare, the Bible and poetry are common sources for titles- after all, the Bard has a better way with words than you or I could dream of. It does have the slight drawback that you're suggesting your story belongs up there with Hamlet, Othello and the rest. You could always go in for a bit of self quotation, like To Kill a Mockingbird or The Catcher in the Rye, but it should be sufficiently interesting to grab a reader's notice and not alienate people who haven't read the book.
My personal favourite titles are symbolic- it gives you a far better snapshot of the book than plain old 'A Man on Neptune' or 'The Storyteller's Apprentice'. For example, Frost in May by Antonia White- it's the story of a bright little girl at a convent school, and how her "sinful" pride is her undoing. What could be more damaging to a new plant than frost turning up overnight? And while I'm not a fan of Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series, Breaking Dawn was a great choice for the instalment where Bella finally becomes a vampire.
Don't commit to a title right away; you don't want to strait jacket your book. Play around, have a good hard think about the themes, the characters and the impression you want your reader to take away. If you know this is something you have difficulties with, ask for a second opinion. If you heard that title or saw it on a shelf, would you want to investigate? Avoid confusion where possible: don't choose one that sounds similar to another novel or mislead people. Thanks to the title 'V for Vendetta', it's often assumed that is the anarchist hero's name, rather than V (the Roman numeral five).
There's bound to be a sublime title for your book out there- it's simply a case of teasing it out!
November 23, 2013
Reviews
A subject that's undoubtedly close to every reader and writer's heart: reviews!
As part of my Year 7 English homework, I had to keep a Reading Diary. Being then- as now- both a reader and incurable geek, I took to the assignment with gusto. While I loved conventional reviews, I also liked experimenting with other formats (I vaguely remember covering the Fawlty Towers scripts as a Hotels From Hell broadcast). It fostered a love of book and film reviews that has remained with me.
So today I'll look at both sides of the coin- what are reviews like for both a reader and writer?
Reviews for a reader
Reading a book is a big investment. You're talking about ten or so hours of your leisure time; surely you want to separate trash from treasure? And what better way to tell than check out its reviews?
There are 3 main types of review- those by papers and/or celebrities (generally these have the highest credibility), those by readers you can respect, and those from readers you can't. Go on any review site and the distinction becomes obvious.
There are certain celebrities I trust: Stephen Fry, Sarah Waters and Mark Kermode. While I can't say our opinions always coincide, I admire their work and value their judgement. The only drawback is that if somebody becomes a recognised authority, eg Waters on lesbian books, their name automatically gets splashed on anything with the slightest connection, whether it has their endorsement or not. You soon learn to tell the difference.
When it comes to unknown readers, it boils down to the review itself. Do they drop enormous great spoilers? Is it well thought out? If they didn't like it, do they make a proper argument as opposed to, "It was crap" or "I had to study this for school" (real comments I have seen on boards, alas!) You might also be able to glean their preferences from other books they've reviewed- at the risk of making a sweeping generalisation, somebody who loves horror might not appreciate your sweet teen romance.
Don't be too hasty to judge spelling or punctuation mistakes. Perhaps they're dyslexic, or did the review on their Smartphone, or they simply had a bad day. It's only when this is combined with a sloppy, poorly considered review that you can say, 'I disregard this person's opinion'. Some people criticise readers who give star ratings rather than write reviews, but they may have their own reasons for doing that.
When it comes to writing a review, tread carefully. There are far too many reviewers who try to be clever rather than have anything meaningful to say. Be honest but don't be brutal. If you really feel that strongly against a book, should you review it?
Earlier this year I read a book I found absolutely revolting; it seemed nothing less than an apologia for paedophilia. It caused such a hangover, I didn't read another book for a fortnight- probably a record for me. But I didn't want to make it controversial, and therefore irresistible to other people, so I left it alone.
If you must mention events in the book, mark them as spoilers. Try not to compare it unfavourably to other books, even when it seems like an outright rip off. If the book left you feeling underwhelmed or you didn't finish it, there's probably little point in writing a review. Stars will suffice for such occasions.
Reviews for a writer
Hoo, boy. In order to be a writer, you have to have an industrial strength hide. You've given birth to this lovely book and sent it out into the world- but not everybody's going to like it. And some readers may well voice this.
All readers have a concept of "the perfect book" in their heads. Nobody knows if this fabled creature actually exists; it's probably just an amalgam of all the things they've read and liked. Your heroine's pluckier, the love interest's less romantically tortured etc. They bring this preconception to your book- and woe betide if it falls short in some way.
Authors are notoriously sensitive. If a good review appears, they're in seventh heaven for a week. When they get a bad one, they lament their fate, declare they're never going to write again etc. But is this always their fault?
In some instances it's as simple as a clash between the reader expectation and the author. Take my first book, The Governess. I put it in the Lesbian category of Amazon; writing the blurb, I channelled the style of old lesbian pulps, which couldn't actually use the words "gay" or "lesbian" and hid behind codewords such as "unconventional" or "obsession" instead. I thought that would be enough, but to this day I get shocked reviewers saying they didn't realise this was a gay story, or one about obsession (when it's described as an 'erotic thriller'!) Since it tends to be these readers who give me two and one star reviews, it's hard not to draw certain conclusions. I can only assume they were sidetracked by the description of erotica, thinking it'd be a sexed up version of Jane Eyre.
Receiving hostile reviews makes you feel guilty about similar reviews you've written in the past. After a run of particularly bad reviews, I vowed I would never write a 'nasty' review again, instead falling back on the star system. Until you write yourself, you tend to regard authors as factories churning out a book a year- you don't consider they could be reading your scathing review, and possibly losing sleep over them.
As part of my Year 7 English homework, I had to keep a Reading Diary. Being then- as now- both a reader and incurable geek, I took to the assignment with gusto. While I loved conventional reviews, I also liked experimenting with other formats (I vaguely remember covering the Fawlty Towers scripts as a Hotels From Hell broadcast). It fostered a love of book and film reviews that has remained with me.
So today I'll look at both sides of the coin- what are reviews like for both a reader and writer?
Reviews for a reader
Reading a book is a big investment. You're talking about ten or so hours of your leisure time; surely you want to separate trash from treasure? And what better way to tell than check out its reviews?
There are 3 main types of review- those by papers and/or celebrities (generally these have the highest credibility), those by readers you can respect, and those from readers you can't. Go on any review site and the distinction becomes obvious.
There are certain celebrities I trust: Stephen Fry, Sarah Waters and Mark Kermode. While I can't say our opinions always coincide, I admire their work and value their judgement. The only drawback is that if somebody becomes a recognised authority, eg Waters on lesbian books, their name automatically gets splashed on anything with the slightest connection, whether it has their endorsement or not. You soon learn to tell the difference.
When it comes to unknown readers, it boils down to the review itself. Do they drop enormous great spoilers? Is it well thought out? If they didn't like it, do they make a proper argument as opposed to, "It was crap" or "I had to study this for school" (real comments I have seen on boards, alas!) You might also be able to glean their preferences from other books they've reviewed- at the risk of making a sweeping generalisation, somebody who loves horror might not appreciate your sweet teen romance.
Don't be too hasty to judge spelling or punctuation mistakes. Perhaps they're dyslexic, or did the review on their Smartphone, or they simply had a bad day. It's only when this is combined with a sloppy, poorly considered review that you can say, 'I disregard this person's opinion'. Some people criticise readers who give star ratings rather than write reviews, but they may have their own reasons for doing that.
When it comes to writing a review, tread carefully. There are far too many reviewers who try to be clever rather than have anything meaningful to say. Be honest but don't be brutal. If you really feel that strongly against a book, should you review it?
Earlier this year I read a book I found absolutely revolting; it seemed nothing less than an apologia for paedophilia. It caused such a hangover, I didn't read another book for a fortnight- probably a record for me. But I didn't want to make it controversial, and therefore irresistible to other people, so I left it alone.
If you must mention events in the book, mark them as spoilers. Try not to compare it unfavourably to other books, even when it seems like an outright rip off. If the book left you feeling underwhelmed or you didn't finish it, there's probably little point in writing a review. Stars will suffice for such occasions.
Reviews for a writer
Hoo, boy. In order to be a writer, you have to have an industrial strength hide. You've given birth to this lovely book and sent it out into the world- but not everybody's going to like it. And some readers may well voice this.
All readers have a concept of "the perfect book" in their heads. Nobody knows if this fabled creature actually exists; it's probably just an amalgam of all the things they've read and liked. Your heroine's pluckier, the love interest's less romantically tortured etc. They bring this preconception to your book- and woe betide if it falls short in some way.
Authors are notoriously sensitive. If a good review appears, they're in seventh heaven for a week. When they get a bad one, they lament their fate, declare they're never going to write again etc. But is this always their fault?
In some instances it's as simple as a clash between the reader expectation and the author. Take my first book, The Governess. I put it in the Lesbian category of Amazon; writing the blurb, I channelled the style of old lesbian pulps, which couldn't actually use the words "gay" or "lesbian" and hid behind codewords such as "unconventional" or "obsession" instead. I thought that would be enough, but to this day I get shocked reviewers saying they didn't realise this was a gay story, or one about obsession (when it's described as an 'erotic thriller'!) Since it tends to be these readers who give me two and one star reviews, it's hard not to draw certain conclusions. I can only assume they were sidetracked by the description of erotica, thinking it'd be a sexed up version of Jane Eyre.
Receiving hostile reviews makes you feel guilty about similar reviews you've written in the past. After a run of particularly bad reviews, I vowed I would never write a 'nasty' review again, instead falling back on the star system. Until you write yourself, you tend to regard authors as factories churning out a book a year- you don't consider they could be reading your scathing review, and possibly losing sleep over them.
November 19, 2013
Creating Characters
With only so many plots at your disposal, how does your "romp with lots of sex and explosions" stand apart from the rest? By the most important (yet for some reason underrated) tool in the writer's goodybag: CHARACTERS.
Never mind that blinding twist or futuristic setting, your characters are what makes your story unique. Look at Les Mis: it could have been a standard rags to riches story with a failed revolution thrown in. Instead it has Jean Valjean, the fiery former convict who refuses to be embittered by his trials- or, if you're like me and prefer awkward customers, his opposite number, the good-but-blinkered, borderline Aspergic Javert. Their unforgettable game of cat and mouse drives the plot and has made it one of the most adapted novels of all time.
But where do great characters come from? Some writers are coy, maintaining their creations just swan into their heads fully grown. While that may be the case in special instances, more often it's a case of trial and error. Never mind their vital stats; if it ever gets made into a film, your plain bookish heroine will be transformed into a boobular blonde anyway. Ask deeper questions: what do they most regret? What would they do if they won the lottery? Who was their first love? What is their proudest achievement?
Some people are sniffy about drawing characters. I say: why not? Not only does it get their appearance, physicality and dress sense straight in your head, it helps you create those so called "iconic moments", meaning all you have to do later is write 'em up.
If characters don't arrive in a beam of light, where do they come from? There are three techniques commonly used by writers, all of which have their pitfalls:
1) Guess Who?
Ever read a book, looked at the dustjacket and realised the author eerily resembles their protagonist?
While most authors are more subtle than this, there are still clues: does a particular character get more screen time than their role warrants? Does the narration (and other characters) big them up? Does everyone fall in love with them for no apparent reason? Alternatively, the character may be a major player and serve a purpose, but they're the target of deprecating comments (JK Rowling's Hermione is a good example).
It's easy to see why writing a character based on yourself is so popular. You don't have to go far for material, you know yourself inside out, it's likelier to be convincing. But think about it: if you're essentially a bystander, like so many writers, are you a natural fit for a frenetic action adventure? Would you really serve as the hero for your rom com? Part of the reason why many of us write is we're never going to have adventures ourselves.
2) Write Who You Know
The second, no less travelled road is taking somebody else, be it your mother, vet or that teacher who made your life hell, and transplanting them into your book. Again, easy peasy- but think of the shortcomings. No amount of "Any similarity to persons living and dead" will cut it; one of these days they'll pick it up (doubly so if they're a relative) and recognise themselves. Although getting your own back is highly satisfying, imagine how YOU would feel if somebody assassinated you in print. The safest route is to mix it up- use characteristics, even actual acts if you like, but don't for pity's sake point a massive "This Douchebag is You" sign at them.
3) The Paper Doll Factory
Once upon a time, borrowing other people's characters was verboten. You might if you were writing stories for your personal entertainment- I wrote a whole series about Darth Vader's love for a girl disguised as a man, for crying out loud- but you'd never think of publishing it. There's such a thing as copyright, right?
Thanks to Certain Fan Fics Turned Into Novels (TM), that isn't the case any more. Get enough money and exposure and your hastily revised juvenilia can become a publishing sensation.
Although this has proved hugely successful, do you really want everybody reading your book to say, "Isn't this James Bond with stubble?" Readers are smarter than writers give them credit for; they can tell the difference between a lovingly crafted character and a clone.
Then again, maybe The Death Star Diaries could do with a revival ...
Never mind that blinding twist or futuristic setting, your characters are what makes your story unique. Look at Les Mis: it could have been a standard rags to riches story with a failed revolution thrown in. Instead it has Jean Valjean, the fiery former convict who refuses to be embittered by his trials- or, if you're like me and prefer awkward customers, his opposite number, the good-but-blinkered, borderline Aspergic Javert. Their unforgettable game of cat and mouse drives the plot and has made it one of the most adapted novels of all time.
But where do great characters come from? Some writers are coy, maintaining their creations just swan into their heads fully grown. While that may be the case in special instances, more often it's a case of trial and error. Never mind their vital stats; if it ever gets made into a film, your plain bookish heroine will be transformed into a boobular blonde anyway. Ask deeper questions: what do they most regret? What would they do if they won the lottery? Who was their first love? What is their proudest achievement?
Some people are sniffy about drawing characters. I say: why not? Not only does it get their appearance, physicality and dress sense straight in your head, it helps you create those so called "iconic moments", meaning all you have to do later is write 'em up.
If characters don't arrive in a beam of light, where do they come from? There are three techniques commonly used by writers, all of which have their pitfalls:
1) Guess Who?
Ever read a book, looked at the dustjacket and realised the author eerily resembles their protagonist?
While most authors are more subtle than this, there are still clues: does a particular character get more screen time than their role warrants? Does the narration (and other characters) big them up? Does everyone fall in love with them for no apparent reason? Alternatively, the character may be a major player and serve a purpose, but they're the target of deprecating comments (JK Rowling's Hermione is a good example).
It's easy to see why writing a character based on yourself is so popular. You don't have to go far for material, you know yourself inside out, it's likelier to be convincing. But think about it: if you're essentially a bystander, like so many writers, are you a natural fit for a frenetic action adventure? Would you really serve as the hero for your rom com? Part of the reason why many of us write is we're never going to have adventures ourselves.
2) Write Who You Know
The second, no less travelled road is taking somebody else, be it your mother, vet or that teacher who made your life hell, and transplanting them into your book. Again, easy peasy- but think of the shortcomings. No amount of "Any similarity to persons living and dead" will cut it; one of these days they'll pick it up (doubly so if they're a relative) and recognise themselves. Although getting your own back is highly satisfying, imagine how YOU would feel if somebody assassinated you in print. The safest route is to mix it up- use characteristics, even actual acts if you like, but don't for pity's sake point a massive "This Douchebag is You" sign at them.
3) The Paper Doll Factory
Once upon a time, borrowing other people's characters was verboten. You might if you were writing stories for your personal entertainment- I wrote a whole series about Darth Vader's love for a girl disguised as a man, for crying out loud- but you'd never think of publishing it. There's such a thing as copyright, right?
Thanks to Certain Fan Fics Turned Into Novels (TM), that isn't the case any more. Get enough money and exposure and your hastily revised juvenilia can become a publishing sensation.
Although this has proved hugely successful, do you really want everybody reading your book to say, "Isn't this James Bond with stubble?" Readers are smarter than writers give them credit for; they can tell the difference between a lovingly crafted character and a clone.
Then again, maybe The Death Star Diaries could do with a revival ...
November 8, 2013
Bad Advice Given to Writers
Over the last twenty or so posts, I've looked at writing- my own as well as other people's- and discussed what works and what doesn't. I don't claim to be any kind of authority; there's always an exception to the rule, and everybody has their own way of working.
There are, however, pieces of advice that are bandied about far too often, doing fledgling authors more harm than good. Today I'll examine this in detail: BAD advice regularly given to writers!
1) Write what you know
Gah, this old chestnut. While you can see the sense in it- it'll be difficult for somebody with zero knowledge of Japanese culture to write a convincing novel about the Yakuza, for example- it's extremely limiting. Very few of us have the epic lives that make good novels; most of us just bumble along in our mind numbing accountancy jobs. (That's not to say that you can't have a character who's an accountant, or a story set in that world, but people read primarily to escape their mundane jobs).
This is undoubtedly why so many stories feature writers as protagonists (I'm looking at YOU, Stephen King). While this is obviously much easier for the author, and allows the character greater flexibility and freedom to discover they are in fact the last living descendant of Odin, it can be very wearing on your poor reader. "Great- another writer writing about writing!"
Research is key. You might never have lived during the Crusades or Prohibition America, but a combination of diligent research and cracking story will help your readers forget that. You don't have to live something to write it- you're not Catherine in Basic Instinct!
2) Give up the day job/ write for a living
Although many writers dream that one day it'll be their sole source of income, it remains a fantasy for 99.9% of us. No matter how confident you are that your idea is a money spinner, don't chuck your job in just yet.
If anything, having a "real" job is a bonus. TS Eliot was friends with the American heiress Natalie Barney; she offered to pay him to give up his job at a bank. Eliot refused- he said it would make writing a chore, and meeting strangers every day was far more inspiring. Having worked as a copywriter, I agree wholeheartedly: nothing zaps creativity faster than being forced to write, and you lack fresh ideas up in your ivory tower.
3) Don't read other writers
Astonishingly this jaw dropping piece of advice is sometimes used on writing courses. How you're supposed to find out what you like, what works and what other people want to read in this self imposed bubble is a mystery. The iffy reasoning behind it is that you'll be influenced by (read: plagiarise) these other authors. Balderdash: if you read a wide selection of genres and authors, that won't happen. It's probably no accident that writers who cite this rule don't tend to be very good.
4) Buy writing guides
Don't misunderstand me: some writing guides are genuinely helpful, written by authors with a proven track record. Yet these are outnumbered by trashy how-tos clearly written to make a quick buck, offering only the most formulaic scenarios, characters etc. If you're quirky or don't fit any particular genre, give these guides a miss.
(Giveaway: reading the blurb- generally a list of the author's credentials- you'll be left thinking: "Who???")
5) Use a vanity publisher
No. Absolutely not.
Some people- particularly "traditional" authors- regard self-published authors as no better than the vanity published authors of old. Yes, I'm biased, but there's a clear difference. When you self-publish, you have control over the finished product and your earnings; if you decide it isn't for you, you can take it down, no harm done. By using Amazon you'll be exposed to a far bigger audience than most publishing houses.
Vanity publishing, on the other hand, makes authors pay an exorbitant fee for a third rate product. They'll be lucky to have the one print run to give to family and friends before it ends up as landfill. While there have been success stories, these are in the minority; it's the province of unscrupulous companies taking advantage of writers' hopes and dreams. Indeed, a common scam in the old days was to get a trusting author to send off their manuscript and money; they'd be lucky to see either again.
Remember: the publishing house should pay the author, not the other way round.
There are, however, pieces of advice that are bandied about far too often, doing fledgling authors more harm than good. Today I'll examine this in detail: BAD advice regularly given to writers!
1) Write what you know
Gah, this old chestnut. While you can see the sense in it- it'll be difficult for somebody with zero knowledge of Japanese culture to write a convincing novel about the Yakuza, for example- it's extremely limiting. Very few of us have the epic lives that make good novels; most of us just bumble along in our mind numbing accountancy jobs. (That's not to say that you can't have a character who's an accountant, or a story set in that world, but people read primarily to escape their mundane jobs).
This is undoubtedly why so many stories feature writers as protagonists (I'm looking at YOU, Stephen King). While this is obviously much easier for the author, and allows the character greater flexibility and freedom to discover they are in fact the last living descendant of Odin, it can be very wearing on your poor reader. "Great- another writer writing about writing!"
Research is key. You might never have lived during the Crusades or Prohibition America, but a combination of diligent research and cracking story will help your readers forget that. You don't have to live something to write it- you're not Catherine in Basic Instinct!
2) Give up the day job/ write for a living
Although many writers dream that one day it'll be their sole source of income, it remains a fantasy for 99.9% of us. No matter how confident you are that your idea is a money spinner, don't chuck your job in just yet.
If anything, having a "real" job is a bonus. TS Eliot was friends with the American heiress Natalie Barney; she offered to pay him to give up his job at a bank. Eliot refused- he said it would make writing a chore, and meeting strangers every day was far more inspiring. Having worked as a copywriter, I agree wholeheartedly: nothing zaps creativity faster than being forced to write, and you lack fresh ideas up in your ivory tower.
3) Don't read other writers
Astonishingly this jaw dropping piece of advice is sometimes used on writing courses. How you're supposed to find out what you like, what works and what other people want to read in this self imposed bubble is a mystery. The iffy reasoning behind it is that you'll be influenced by (read: plagiarise) these other authors. Balderdash: if you read a wide selection of genres and authors, that won't happen. It's probably no accident that writers who cite this rule don't tend to be very good.
4) Buy writing guides
Don't misunderstand me: some writing guides are genuinely helpful, written by authors with a proven track record. Yet these are outnumbered by trashy how-tos clearly written to make a quick buck, offering only the most formulaic scenarios, characters etc. If you're quirky or don't fit any particular genre, give these guides a miss.
(Giveaway: reading the blurb- generally a list of the author's credentials- you'll be left thinking: "Who???")
5) Use a vanity publisher
No. Absolutely not.
Some people- particularly "traditional" authors- regard self-published authors as no better than the vanity published authors of old. Yes, I'm biased, but there's a clear difference. When you self-publish, you have control over the finished product and your earnings; if you decide it isn't for you, you can take it down, no harm done. By using Amazon you'll be exposed to a far bigger audience than most publishing houses.
Vanity publishing, on the other hand, makes authors pay an exorbitant fee for a third rate product. They'll be lucky to have the one print run to give to family and friends before it ends up as landfill. While there have been success stories, these are in the minority; it's the province of unscrupulous companies taking advantage of writers' hopes and dreams. Indeed, a common scam in the old days was to get a trusting author to send off their manuscript and money; they'd be lucky to see either again.
Remember: the publishing house should pay the author, not the other way round.
November 5, 2013
The Name Game
In my second to last entry, I let off a little steam on the subject of character names. Today I thought I'd expand upon it in more detail.
Let's get rid of a pernicious myth that seems to have grown up, shall we? The name is not the character- or, at least, it shouldn't be.
Think about it. When somebody is named in real time, there isn't a fairy hovering over the bassinet, saying, "Her name is Donatella Labonq, as befits the greatest porn star of all time!" The person fills the name, not the other way round; we only associate names like Genghis or Vlad with ruthless evil because of the most famous bearers of those names. Look at Harry Potter: before a certain boy wizard, he could have been anyone or anything- a bus driver, a company CEO. (And would the Dursleys really have housed somebody called Ezekiel Moonglow?)
This hang up seems to be left over from children's books and comics, where everybody has an incredibly appropriate moniker and appearance. I love these as much as the next person, but once you start writing serious fiction for adults, you really must stop such blatant tactics. Yes, a private eye with a jet black goatee called Jack Raven might sound cool, but if that's all you've got to go on, you'll end up with wafer thin characterisation and plot twists that surprise nobody. A guy called Cain kills his brother? You don't say!
Perhaps related to this, there seems to be a strange snobbishness about character names. Ordinary surnames like Evans or Williams are sniffed at as "too common" (I'm sure people with those surnames appreciate that!), ignoring a pertinent point: if your character has an "ordinary" name, there's far less chance of a real life person taking offence at you portraying them as a corrupt politician/wife murderer/ general slimeball etc, and suing you for every penny you've got. It sounds far fetched but such things have happened! There's also a tendency to peg people with certain names as chavs, trollops etc, surely saying far more about the reader's classist and sexist assumptions than anything else.
I had a run in with this kind of thinking with my second book, The Revenge of Rose Grubb. When the book wasn't selling as well as I would have liked, I went on the Author page and asked for feedback. While they said the main issue was with the cover and blurb- something I heartily agreed with, and fixed- one contributor said perhaps the name put readers off, saying it denoted an "unsympathetic character".
Now this I found bizarre. People can't help the names they're born with; the UK phone book teems with people called Death, Smelly and Crapper. Although the story's an urban fantasy, I've tried to keep it realistic in most places, meaning most of the characters aren't saddled with outré names. (Apart from the girl called Persephone, but that's another story) ... This seems to be going with the idea that everybody in fiction should have a glamorous, Mills and Boon surname like Dexter or Rushton- a notion I reject. I was also puzzled by the statement that Rose and Frances were "older" names; not only are the two women in their forties, but Brits regularly call babies names like Grace and Alfie, meaning there's no such thing as an 'anachronistic' name. (And, indeed, soon there's going to be a generation of grandparents called Scott and Kylie!)
There have been many debates about this, seemly and unseemly, but in the end it comes down to this simple test:
1) Does the name suit the character?- I don't mean this in the cut and paste, Saul Sinister sense but in the "Can you imagine him being called anything else?" sense. There is no reason why a man called Leeroy can't be a sensitive, devoted lover, or a girl called Felicity can't kick major ass. People are more than their names, after all!
2) Do you like the name?- Like anybody else, authors have names they love and names they loathe (I shan't list these for risk of offending anyone!) Naming a character after a personal hero or your worst enemy is absolutely fine, provided they're clearly a fictional creation and not lifted directly from life. Or it may be a happy coincidence: you may find that a pair of names sound great together, and- better still- perfectly fit that character who's just sauntered into your head.
Ultimately, your name is your key identifier throughout your life. You may find it embarrassing, grow fed up with it being misspelt or mistaken for every other name with the same letter, but it's your one and only name and you can't imagine being called anything else.
Let's get rid of a pernicious myth that seems to have grown up, shall we? The name is not the character- or, at least, it shouldn't be.
Think about it. When somebody is named in real time, there isn't a fairy hovering over the bassinet, saying, "Her name is Donatella Labonq, as befits the greatest porn star of all time!" The person fills the name, not the other way round; we only associate names like Genghis or Vlad with ruthless evil because of the most famous bearers of those names. Look at Harry Potter: before a certain boy wizard, he could have been anyone or anything- a bus driver, a company CEO. (And would the Dursleys really have housed somebody called Ezekiel Moonglow?)
This hang up seems to be left over from children's books and comics, where everybody has an incredibly appropriate moniker and appearance. I love these as much as the next person, but once you start writing serious fiction for adults, you really must stop such blatant tactics. Yes, a private eye with a jet black goatee called Jack Raven might sound cool, but if that's all you've got to go on, you'll end up with wafer thin characterisation and plot twists that surprise nobody. A guy called Cain kills his brother? You don't say!
Perhaps related to this, there seems to be a strange snobbishness about character names. Ordinary surnames like Evans or Williams are sniffed at as "too common" (I'm sure people with those surnames appreciate that!), ignoring a pertinent point: if your character has an "ordinary" name, there's far less chance of a real life person taking offence at you portraying them as a corrupt politician/wife murderer/ general slimeball etc, and suing you for every penny you've got. It sounds far fetched but such things have happened! There's also a tendency to peg people with certain names as chavs, trollops etc, surely saying far more about the reader's classist and sexist assumptions than anything else.
I had a run in with this kind of thinking with my second book, The Revenge of Rose Grubb. When the book wasn't selling as well as I would have liked, I went on the Author page and asked for feedback. While they said the main issue was with the cover and blurb- something I heartily agreed with, and fixed- one contributor said perhaps the name put readers off, saying it denoted an "unsympathetic character".
Now this I found bizarre. People can't help the names they're born with; the UK phone book teems with people called Death, Smelly and Crapper. Although the story's an urban fantasy, I've tried to keep it realistic in most places, meaning most of the characters aren't saddled with outré names. (Apart from the girl called Persephone, but that's another story) ... This seems to be going with the idea that everybody in fiction should have a glamorous, Mills and Boon surname like Dexter or Rushton- a notion I reject. I was also puzzled by the statement that Rose and Frances were "older" names; not only are the two women in their forties, but Brits regularly call babies names like Grace and Alfie, meaning there's no such thing as an 'anachronistic' name. (And, indeed, soon there's going to be a generation of grandparents called Scott and Kylie!)
There have been many debates about this, seemly and unseemly, but in the end it comes down to this simple test:
1) Does the name suit the character?- I don't mean this in the cut and paste, Saul Sinister sense but in the "Can you imagine him being called anything else?" sense. There is no reason why a man called Leeroy can't be a sensitive, devoted lover, or a girl called Felicity can't kick major ass. People are more than their names, after all!
2) Do you like the name?- Like anybody else, authors have names they love and names they loathe (I shan't list these for risk of offending anyone!) Naming a character after a personal hero or your worst enemy is absolutely fine, provided they're clearly a fictional creation and not lifted directly from life. Or it may be a happy coincidence: you may find that a pair of names sound great together, and- better still- perfectly fit that character who's just sauntered into your head.
Ultimately, your name is your key identifier throughout your life. You may find it embarrassing, grow fed up with it being misspelt or mistaken for every other name with the same letter, but it's your one and only name and you can't imagine being called anything else.
October 31, 2013
Writing spooky stories
In honour of the season: how to go about writing a spooky story!
Don't be misled by the modern tendency for horror films to be all blood and guts, with attractive (but deeply annoying) teens picked off one by one by masked maniacs. A proper scary story is one that holds on the gore but taps straight into primal fears.
Think about what scares you. Some things are inherently creepy: old dolls (particularly wax ones), nursery rhymes, mirrors and fairgrounds, to start you off. Some may be more personal, but you can bet that if it freaks you out, other people will feel the same. For example, I've never been comfortable with escalators or lifts, and as for puppets, particularly that sociopath of the British seaside, Mr Punch ... brr. You'll undoubtedly have an irrational but fruitful fear of your own.
While that's a good place to begin, one spooky element doesn't make a story. Ask yourself that timeless call to adventure: what if. What if what's happening on the other side of the glass is real, and you're merely a reflection of them? What if you end up unwittingly doing a job share for someone, only to learn they're a ghost, and you'll now be holding the reins for eternity? What if you're trapped inside a statue or painting?
The best ghost stories are short but don't waste a word- say between two and four thousand words. Don't allow yourself to become distracted and over complicate it; there isn't room for other plots. You need to decide what tack to take: is the supernatural element a twist, in which case it should be hidden till the very end? Knowledge is trickier to pull off: many writers try to compensate by having a sceptic as a character, as an audience stand in, but such a figure is difficult to sympathise with, unless frustration and/or irritation is your intention.
Don't worry if your story turns out nothing like the 'traditional' ghost story- subversions can be delightful. Think of Sir Simon in Wilde's The Canterville Ghost: a frightful old ham, he's defending his ancestral seat against a family of Americans who have recently moved in. Rather than run screaming into the night, they find his hauntings funny and quaint, and can't wait to see what he'll do next. The story takes an unexpected turn into poignancy when the daughter befriends Sir Simon, and learns that he desperately longs to be released from his punishment (he's condemned to limbo for murdering his wife).
Once you've got it all written down, try it out in the setting that's always suited creepy stories best: by fire or candlelight. If you give your audience chills, you'll know you're on the right track. Indeed, a scary story contest is a fantastic alternative to the usual Halloween customs!
Don't be misled by the modern tendency for horror films to be all blood and guts, with attractive (but deeply annoying) teens picked off one by one by masked maniacs. A proper scary story is one that holds on the gore but taps straight into primal fears.
Think about what scares you. Some things are inherently creepy: old dolls (particularly wax ones), nursery rhymes, mirrors and fairgrounds, to start you off. Some may be more personal, but you can bet that if it freaks you out, other people will feel the same. For example, I've never been comfortable with escalators or lifts, and as for puppets, particularly that sociopath of the British seaside, Mr Punch ... brr. You'll undoubtedly have an irrational but fruitful fear of your own.
While that's a good place to begin, one spooky element doesn't make a story. Ask yourself that timeless call to adventure: what if. What if what's happening on the other side of the glass is real, and you're merely a reflection of them? What if you end up unwittingly doing a job share for someone, only to learn they're a ghost, and you'll now be holding the reins for eternity? What if you're trapped inside a statue or painting?
The best ghost stories are short but don't waste a word- say between two and four thousand words. Don't allow yourself to become distracted and over complicate it; there isn't room for other plots. You need to decide what tack to take: is the supernatural element a twist, in which case it should be hidden till the very end? Knowledge is trickier to pull off: many writers try to compensate by having a sceptic as a character, as an audience stand in, but such a figure is difficult to sympathise with, unless frustration and/or irritation is your intention.
Don't worry if your story turns out nothing like the 'traditional' ghost story- subversions can be delightful. Think of Sir Simon in Wilde's The Canterville Ghost: a frightful old ham, he's defending his ancestral seat against a family of Americans who have recently moved in. Rather than run screaming into the night, they find his hauntings funny and quaint, and can't wait to see what he'll do next. The story takes an unexpected turn into poignancy when the daughter befriends Sir Simon, and learns that he desperately longs to be released from his punishment (he's condemned to limbo for murdering his wife).
Once you've got it all written down, try it out in the setting that's always suited creepy stories best: by fire or candlelight. If you give your audience chills, you'll know you're on the right track. Indeed, a scary story contest is a fantastic alternative to the usual Halloween customs!
October 21, 2013
Fantasy Worlds
We read for a variety of reasons. A book's on the syllabus (never an incentive to like it). To "improve" our minds. To see how the original source compares to the recent film, which we really enjoyed. And- most compellingly of all, and why reading's one of the most popular pastimes- to escape.
If you spend your life working 9 to 5 in a call centre, would you want to read a story where the characters do the same thing? Of course not. You want to read about characters whose lives and concerns are as far removed from yours as possible. You might not be able to go on a quest to find the Golden Girdle of Galatea, but the hero of your favourite fantasy franchise can. While you and I might not make any decision more momentous than quiche for lunch, a heroine's choice can decide the fate of worlds. It's hardly an accident that when we're in troubled economic times, fantasy and sci fi books fly off the shelves.
Which triggers a question: how fantastical do you like your fantasy?
There are three main set ups:
Urban fantasy- where the world is effectively ours, but with an extra ingredient, e.g. Buffy may be a vampire slayer but she also encounters ghosts, anthropomorphised nightmares and praying mantises in contemporary times
Parallel world settings- where there's a second world cheek by jowl with ours, and they occasionally overlap (e.g. Harry Potter's wizarding world, which has its own customs, values and seems to be stuck somewhere in the 1800s).
Worlds on another plane of reality altogether, e.g. Star Wars takes place "a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away"
Creating a fantasy world can be very exciting, giving the writer licence to populate it however they like. You may decide to use your favourite mythical creature but shake up your portrayal (you'll either be praised or derided- you have been warned!) You might invent something completely new, e.g. the daemons in Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials, an animal manifestation of a person's soul. This has the happy side effect that your main character doesn't seem ignorant when they've never heard of them before (not everything can be found on Google!) After all, aliens can look and behave any way you want- it's all in the name!
A word of caution. Some writers lavish attention upon their fictional worlds, devising histories, geographies, religions- everything that gives a real world society depth. While I would hate to curb anybody's creativity, and this kind of world building can really lift your saga above standard fantasy fare, don't let it be detrimental to your story. There's no point in coming up with a complex caste system if the main action consists of a bloke riding a horse. It may come in useful for future developments, but if Queen Brangomar's plot to bump off the court with poisoned apples ninety years ago doesn't have any bearing on the present plot, drop it. The last thing you want is for your reader to think, "I wish I could be reading that story instead."
A familiarity with the genre is always a bonus. It's a sad truth that many- if not most- of us have very generic imaginations, squirrelling imagery from all the books, films and nightmares we've seen. Bad guys in black! Mentors and pupils double crossing each other! Femme fatales with big collars! There are few things as demoralising as spending years lovingly crafting your epic, only to discover it's a scene for scene remake of a show you've never watched. (I'll never forget the verdict of the story I submitted to get on my creative writing course. Although I won a place, they were far from enthusiastic: "Derivative genre writing is discouraged." Ouch).
As an extension of this, a lot of fantasy can be painted with the broadest brushstrokes, especially where gender politics and homosexuality are concerned. Either you have the society where women wander around in sackcloth and ashes, unable to speak and kept under lock and key, or you have Ladyonia, where men are either non existent or hunted down like dogs. (Whether this is a utopia or dystopia depends on the writer). The same goes for being gay: either it's viewed as a disgusting abomination and stamped out by the government or everybody's gay, and straight people are the persecuted minority. Although this may be a case of pushing an argument to its logical extreme, it's in danger of turning into a polemic, with "Homophobia is Bad!" or (in less savoury renditions) "Women Should Know Their Place!" Readers don't like being preached to.
Above all, be consistent. There may be an exception to every rule, but there's a difference between the exception that's an established plot point (e.g. a girl finds herself with "male" magical powers) and one that wings in when it's most convenient to the author (e.g. in a world that has seemed utterly normal up until now, the cast is rescued from certain death by flying horses). Disbelief can only be stretched so far.
No less important: names. Yes, there may be people in real life who call their children Cushla Angel Rainbow, but you're not responsible for their bad taste. You are, however, responsible for the names you inflict upon your characters.
Please don't have characters called Allamarathea married to ones called Dave, or think that by peppering a name with apostrophes or random vowels, you'll somehow disguise the fact that your hero's name is Keith. Also- a pet hate of mine- don't give your character a name that spells out his fate in block capitals! I love JK Rowling to bits, she rivals Dickens for funny and inventive names, but it never ceases to annoy me that there's a werewolf called Remus Lupin and not one person guesses his secret. Or that somebody called Sirius Black can turn himself into- wait for it- a big black dog. She just about gets away with it because she's a children's author, but you can see this hamfisted convention at work in adult fiction too.
Fantasy should be as well regulated as any other genre. Yes, you've greater freedom to play around with species and ideas, but that doesn't mean plot and logic can go hang. Never lose sight of your audience or insult their intelligence.
Happy scribbling!
If you spend your life working 9 to 5 in a call centre, would you want to read a story where the characters do the same thing? Of course not. You want to read about characters whose lives and concerns are as far removed from yours as possible. You might not be able to go on a quest to find the Golden Girdle of Galatea, but the hero of your favourite fantasy franchise can. While you and I might not make any decision more momentous than quiche for lunch, a heroine's choice can decide the fate of worlds. It's hardly an accident that when we're in troubled economic times, fantasy and sci fi books fly off the shelves.
Which triggers a question: how fantastical do you like your fantasy?
There are three main set ups:
Urban fantasy- where the world is effectively ours, but with an extra ingredient, e.g. Buffy may be a vampire slayer but she also encounters ghosts, anthropomorphised nightmares and praying mantises in contemporary times
Parallel world settings- where there's a second world cheek by jowl with ours, and they occasionally overlap (e.g. Harry Potter's wizarding world, which has its own customs, values and seems to be stuck somewhere in the 1800s).
Worlds on another plane of reality altogether, e.g. Star Wars takes place "a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away"
Creating a fantasy world can be very exciting, giving the writer licence to populate it however they like. You may decide to use your favourite mythical creature but shake up your portrayal (you'll either be praised or derided- you have been warned!) You might invent something completely new, e.g. the daemons in Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials, an animal manifestation of a person's soul. This has the happy side effect that your main character doesn't seem ignorant when they've never heard of them before (not everything can be found on Google!) After all, aliens can look and behave any way you want- it's all in the name!
A word of caution. Some writers lavish attention upon their fictional worlds, devising histories, geographies, religions- everything that gives a real world society depth. While I would hate to curb anybody's creativity, and this kind of world building can really lift your saga above standard fantasy fare, don't let it be detrimental to your story. There's no point in coming up with a complex caste system if the main action consists of a bloke riding a horse. It may come in useful for future developments, but if Queen Brangomar's plot to bump off the court with poisoned apples ninety years ago doesn't have any bearing on the present plot, drop it. The last thing you want is for your reader to think, "I wish I could be reading that story instead."
A familiarity with the genre is always a bonus. It's a sad truth that many- if not most- of us have very generic imaginations, squirrelling imagery from all the books, films and nightmares we've seen. Bad guys in black! Mentors and pupils double crossing each other! Femme fatales with big collars! There are few things as demoralising as spending years lovingly crafting your epic, only to discover it's a scene for scene remake of a show you've never watched. (I'll never forget the verdict of the story I submitted to get on my creative writing course. Although I won a place, they were far from enthusiastic: "Derivative genre writing is discouraged." Ouch).
As an extension of this, a lot of fantasy can be painted with the broadest brushstrokes, especially where gender politics and homosexuality are concerned. Either you have the society where women wander around in sackcloth and ashes, unable to speak and kept under lock and key, or you have Ladyonia, where men are either non existent or hunted down like dogs. (Whether this is a utopia or dystopia depends on the writer). The same goes for being gay: either it's viewed as a disgusting abomination and stamped out by the government or everybody's gay, and straight people are the persecuted minority. Although this may be a case of pushing an argument to its logical extreme, it's in danger of turning into a polemic, with "Homophobia is Bad!" or (in less savoury renditions) "Women Should Know Their Place!" Readers don't like being preached to.
Above all, be consistent. There may be an exception to every rule, but there's a difference between the exception that's an established plot point (e.g. a girl finds herself with "male" magical powers) and one that wings in when it's most convenient to the author (e.g. in a world that has seemed utterly normal up until now, the cast is rescued from certain death by flying horses). Disbelief can only be stretched so far.
No less important: names. Yes, there may be people in real life who call their children Cushla Angel Rainbow, but you're not responsible for their bad taste. You are, however, responsible for the names you inflict upon your characters.
Please don't have characters called Allamarathea married to ones called Dave, or think that by peppering a name with apostrophes or random vowels, you'll somehow disguise the fact that your hero's name is Keith. Also- a pet hate of mine- don't give your character a name that spells out his fate in block capitals! I love JK Rowling to bits, she rivals Dickens for funny and inventive names, but it never ceases to annoy me that there's a werewolf called Remus Lupin and not one person guesses his secret. Or that somebody called Sirius Black can turn himself into- wait for it- a big black dog. She just about gets away with it because she's a children's author, but you can see this hamfisted convention at work in adult fiction too.
Fantasy should be as well regulated as any other genre. Yes, you've greater freedom to play around with species and ideas, but that doesn't mean plot and logic can go hang. Never lose sight of your audience or insult their intelligence.
Happy scribbling!
October 12, 2013
Don't Let Your Lovers Be Losers
(Here it is, a day later than advertised. Sorry, guys!)
Love can be- ought to be- a wondrous thing. Two people out of the many billions on this planet coming together, sharing something spectacular. Yes, people may be mistaken, or regret it afterwards, but for as long as it lasts, it's the ultimate experience.
Who hasn't felt the agonies of unrequited love, or been bowled over by their first kiss? What makes you relate more to a heroine than watching her fall in and out of love?
Quite a lot, actually.
At the risk of stating the obvious: when you fall in love yourself, it happens in real time. There are so many things your real life squeeze can do that can't be covered by a story: the off key way they whistle, the rituals you have together, how watching a crummy movie or going to the launderette can be fine, provided it's together. The notes and the in jokes and the hundreds of gestures you share.
That connection builds up over the course of months and years. A fictional couple doesn't have that luxury- in a book that takes approximately ten hours to read, we're supposed to buy that these two people have met, fallen for each other and belong together. You'd assume that since virtually every story has a love plot somewhere, it'd be easy to pull off, but in fact it's one of the hardest things a writer has to do.
Think about it. An author is only human, like anybody else. In many cases you can perceive the outline of their ideal man/woman (sometimes, but not always, their spouse in different clothes). Since your version of "The One" is highly personal, what seems romantic or erotic to you might fall flat to your readers. If you like sensitive, slightly nerdy guys who can cook and make models, you're hardly going to be impressed by a bad boy in a grunge band. Likewise, if you have a yen for steely ambitious girls, you won't find a homebody who makes a living dressing up cats attractive.
It depends on the age of the reader, too. While teenage girls may sigh over Edward Cullen's god like looks and protectiveness, older women regard him as a one dimensional, controlling creep. Look at Princess Leia and Han Solo: seen from an adult perspective, their relationship's a clumsy contrivance that stops her from hooking up with her own brother (Obi Wan should really have warned them about that). Yet if you're a kid who thinks Han is a cool maverick, their relationship makes sense.
The person has to seem real, a legitimate object of desire. Many writers seem to believe that unless they're exceptionally attractive, no one will accept them- daft, because 99.9% of your readers will be ordinary Joes or Josephines who won't have some love god/goddess falling at their feet. How many times have you met somebody gorgeous, only to discover they're as thick as a plank or overweeningly arrogant? Whatever some authors may think, film star looks don't excuse someone being a complete jerk.
The same applies for their personality and interests. There's this tendency for heroes/heroines to excel at everything they do- while some make their romantic lead a supernatural being as a get out clause (of course they're going to have a genius intellect/be able to leap a building at a single bound/be amazing lovers etc), that doesn't mean you're off the hook. Even angels have their hang ups!
Their personality has to ring true, too: a realistic splash of insecurity here, a smudge of pride there. Make them too sweet, understanding and obviously designed as your hero's perfect mate and everyone will puke; make them too flawed and you'll wonder why anyone would go to all that trouble. There's got to be a limit- if one of them does something unforgivable, their partner should have the strength and self respect not to take them back. Rhett Butler made the right decision.
Ask yourself this: outside this particular set of circumstances, would these two people love or even like each other? Yes, galactic warfare or natural disasters might bring the unlikeliest people together, but once the threat is removed, would the relationship last? I was always extremely sceptical about Ron and Hermione; they're opposites in every way, with few shared interests other than Harry. If your couple spend their time trading witticisms rather than have a proper conversation or hold non stop slanging matches, you've really got to ask whether this will work. "Opposites attract" is a total fallacy- you need at least some common ground.
The best possible preparation is reading and watching romances (proper romances, not a genre film with a romance shoe horned in). See what's out there, see what works. Don't be tempted to rehash existing novels; Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre have been revisited in every setting but space (please don't take that as a challenge!) What makes your "average girl falls for fantastical being" tale different from the thousands of others out there? Does your "boy meets boy" tale have an unusual setting, say Ancient Rome or Camelot? Even so, that won't be enough to rescue it if the relationship feels rushed or the characters are unconvincing.
That's enough for today. Coming soon: fantasy worlds!
Love can be- ought to be- a wondrous thing. Two people out of the many billions on this planet coming together, sharing something spectacular. Yes, people may be mistaken, or regret it afterwards, but for as long as it lasts, it's the ultimate experience.
Who hasn't felt the agonies of unrequited love, or been bowled over by their first kiss? What makes you relate more to a heroine than watching her fall in and out of love?
Quite a lot, actually.
At the risk of stating the obvious: when you fall in love yourself, it happens in real time. There are so many things your real life squeeze can do that can't be covered by a story: the off key way they whistle, the rituals you have together, how watching a crummy movie or going to the launderette can be fine, provided it's together. The notes and the in jokes and the hundreds of gestures you share.
That connection builds up over the course of months and years. A fictional couple doesn't have that luxury- in a book that takes approximately ten hours to read, we're supposed to buy that these two people have met, fallen for each other and belong together. You'd assume that since virtually every story has a love plot somewhere, it'd be easy to pull off, but in fact it's one of the hardest things a writer has to do.
Think about it. An author is only human, like anybody else. In many cases you can perceive the outline of their ideal man/woman (sometimes, but not always, their spouse in different clothes). Since your version of "The One" is highly personal, what seems romantic or erotic to you might fall flat to your readers. If you like sensitive, slightly nerdy guys who can cook and make models, you're hardly going to be impressed by a bad boy in a grunge band. Likewise, if you have a yen for steely ambitious girls, you won't find a homebody who makes a living dressing up cats attractive.
It depends on the age of the reader, too. While teenage girls may sigh over Edward Cullen's god like looks and protectiveness, older women regard him as a one dimensional, controlling creep. Look at Princess Leia and Han Solo: seen from an adult perspective, their relationship's a clumsy contrivance that stops her from hooking up with her own brother (Obi Wan should really have warned them about that). Yet if you're a kid who thinks Han is a cool maverick, their relationship makes sense.
The person has to seem real, a legitimate object of desire. Many writers seem to believe that unless they're exceptionally attractive, no one will accept them- daft, because 99.9% of your readers will be ordinary Joes or Josephines who won't have some love god/goddess falling at their feet. How many times have you met somebody gorgeous, only to discover they're as thick as a plank or overweeningly arrogant? Whatever some authors may think, film star looks don't excuse someone being a complete jerk.
The same applies for their personality and interests. There's this tendency for heroes/heroines to excel at everything they do- while some make their romantic lead a supernatural being as a get out clause (of course they're going to have a genius intellect/be able to leap a building at a single bound/be amazing lovers etc), that doesn't mean you're off the hook. Even angels have their hang ups!
Their personality has to ring true, too: a realistic splash of insecurity here, a smudge of pride there. Make them too sweet, understanding and obviously designed as your hero's perfect mate and everyone will puke; make them too flawed and you'll wonder why anyone would go to all that trouble. There's got to be a limit- if one of them does something unforgivable, their partner should have the strength and self respect not to take them back. Rhett Butler made the right decision.
Ask yourself this: outside this particular set of circumstances, would these two people love or even like each other? Yes, galactic warfare or natural disasters might bring the unlikeliest people together, but once the threat is removed, would the relationship last? I was always extremely sceptical about Ron and Hermione; they're opposites in every way, with few shared interests other than Harry. If your couple spend their time trading witticisms rather than have a proper conversation or hold non stop slanging matches, you've really got to ask whether this will work. "Opposites attract" is a total fallacy- you need at least some common ground.
The best possible preparation is reading and watching romances (proper romances, not a genre film with a romance shoe horned in). See what's out there, see what works. Don't be tempted to rehash existing novels; Pride and Prejudice and Jane Eyre have been revisited in every setting but space (please don't take that as a challenge!) What makes your "average girl falls for fantastical being" tale different from the thousands of others out there? Does your "boy meets boy" tale have an unusual setting, say Ancient Rome or Camelot? Even so, that won't be enough to rescue it if the relationship feels rushed or the characters are unconvincing.
That's enough for today. Coming soon: fantasy worlds!
