M.D. Wiselka's Blog, page 8

Writing…without Passion

Have you ever had a job so mind-numbingly boring you wonder why you don’t die of ennui?

Writing should never be one of those jobs, because if it bores you, it’ll bore your readers.

Find a way to fire every piece of your writing, from a grocery list to your space opera trilogy and you have found the key to success. Because even “bad” writers have made millions by inspiring interest in their readers.

Don’t write about what you know. Write about what you love. The things that make you cry will make your readers cry. The things that make you laugh will make your readers laugh. And the things that make you care will make them care.

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Writing…Without a Plan

Pantsers abound the world over. They like surprise endings too. But is that the best way to handle a writing project?

In an earlier post, I said the quickest route from point A to point B is a straight line. True. But not everyone writes a book in chronological order. I certainly don’t. I may begin that way, but I soon give it up. I tend to write in alphabetical order. I assign each chapter a name and follow a list when drafting. This works for me for two reasons: (1) it makes the project seem more manageable (“chapter by chapter”, “bird by bird”) and (2) it allows me to take advantage of short breathers on difficult sections of my book.

I will explain reason (2) a little better. Let’s say I’m working on that difficult mid-section of the book. I write a first draft of a chapter, then realize that it doesn’t accomplish all that I want. I need another chapter. Maybe even two or three other chapters to finish the work. If I jump right in and write the “missing” chapters, I rob myself of some much-needed planning time for the new material. By switching gears to another place in the book, I continue working while still allowing myself the time I need to plan the “missing” chapters.

That brings me back to planning. An outline is essential to my writing process. And a periodic review of that outline is also essential to my writing process. If my story deviates from my plan, I have to decide whether my story needs corrected or my plan does. In this way, I preserve my vision for what I want readers to take away from my book.

The destination is still point B. And only careful planning can get them there.

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Gas and Brake

I recently took a course on Udemy, taught by Elizabeth Bezant. http://www.writing-information-and-ti.... One of the most important things I learned from her was how to use “gas” and “brake” pedals in my writing.

Action and dialogue are the gas pedal. They propel your story, often at a breakneck pace.

Description and narrative are the brake pedal. They slow things down for your readers, so they have time to breathe.

This is why many people find Michael Bay movies hard to watch. There is no brake. It is non-stop action, from start to finish.

Obviously, the amount of gas and brake you use will fluctuate based on your story (romance will be slower going than thriller, etc.), just as they would when driving on different types of road.

The judicious blending of start and stop is what makes or breaks a piece of writing.

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Teenage Angst Bullshit

Every serious story has a certain level of drama. Unwed mother leaves her baby in a basket on the church doorstep. Boy steps aside so the girl of his dreams can marry his rich rival, who can give her the life she deserves. Woman watches helplessly as her husband slowly dies from a terrible disease. Bring a box of tissues. You’re going to cry.

There’s a right way to evoke your readers’ emotions–and a wrong way.

Angela’s Ashes comes to mind. The author presents the tale of his miserable childhood matter of factly and allows his readers to draw their own conclusions. We pity him all the more because he doesn’t ask for our pity, he doesn’t court it.

On the other end of the spectrum is Nicholas Sparks, who has–what–a dozen novels out there. All bestsellers. The dialogue in his novels is designed to evoke endless tears, and none of it is anywhere close to what people would really say to one another. It’s radio drama. “Oh, June, if I had known how much you would come to mean to me this summer, I never would have given April my word that I would marry her in the autumn. But I know somehow–some way–we will be together in the end.”

Try the Frank McCourt method of writing drama. Show the mother leaving the baby on the step. Show the boy purposely hurting his girl’s feelings, so she will run to his rival. Show the woman struggling to keep her faith in God, while she watches her husband die. No flowery speeches, no tantrums or waterworks. The facts. Simply the facts. Let your readers draw their own conclusions.

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Modern Matrimony

Yesterday’s blog post on sanction patterns came to mind, while I was reading this poem, published in Motley Measures, Bert Leston Taylor, 1913.

Modern Matrimony

He

Dear one, when we exchange our vows

We’ll knot the loosest sort of tie;

For our ideals, like our brows,

Are broad and high.

She

A simple hitch I should prefer,

As simple as we can devise;

A lovers’-bowline, as it were—

One yank unties.

He

This nuptial pact shall not coerce

Our own sweet wills a single jot.

We’ll chop ‘for better or for worse,’

And all that rot.

She

My love, your sentiments are mine;

I echo them with all my heart.

I simply can’t endure that line—

‘Till death us part.’

He

My idol, I am overjoyed!

I shan’t love twice, but if I should

This contract will be null and void:

That’s understood.

She

I shall not dream of liberty,

But if I should—you’ll understand

The bonds that bind us now will be

As ropes of sand.

He

I am the needle, you the pole!

O Pole, my constancy you know.

But should I not remain heart-whole

I’m free to go.

She

I am the flower, you the sun!

O Sun, you know my constancy.

But if I choose to cut and run

You quite agree.

Together

Since you love me as I love you,

Herewith a sacred troth we plight.

Each to the other will be true:

If not—good night!

Our modern (1913?!) Romeo and Juliet are quite prepared to pledge their mutual affection, but they have some reservations about its duration. Best not to make promises you can’t keep. But they aren’t exactly the stuff from which heroes and heroines are made.

If Romeo and Juliet had ended with Romeo saying, “oh, why bother? It’s too much grief,” we wouldn’t still be reading that play today.

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Less Sex is Sometimes More

Recently, I purchased a box of Harlequin romance novels from a flea market. One in particular, a book called The Sacrifice by Mary Hollins, written in 1969, comes to mind as a perfect example of what a writer could do with a story when explicit sex scenes were not an acceptable part of a mainstream romance novel. Sherry is in love with Tim, who fails to notice her, despite all the sacrifices she makes to prove her love to him. Eventually, she is forced to give him up and move on with her life. She gets involved with another man, Alistair, an aspiring artist that Sherry doesn’t love but feels obliged to take care of.

Though there are some plot twists a tad too convenient for the taste of more sophisticated readers, the story holds together remarkably well, despite its lack of sex. A few kisses are exchanged. That is it. And they are so well-timed that they have the same impact as sex scenes. Perhaps more so, because they come at almost no cost to the characters.

To keep readers—well—reading, you have to supply them with the hills and valleys of a budding romance. In the old days, these consisted largely if not entirely of misunderstandings that weren’t (completely) cleared up until the end of the story.

Sherry believes the man she loves impregnated her rival. The man she loves suspects he may have, though, as it turns out, the rival is pregnant from another man and it is unlikely our hero even had sex with her. He was hopelessly drunk and without any memory of the event. (This plot device is still hale and hearty in today’s romance stories).

We don’t see Tim’s mischief with the rival. There may not be any mischief to see. All of that happens off-screen. Today’s writer might be tempted to show it, because showing is better than telling. Ah—not in this case. Our sympathy should be with the long-suffering heroine. To achieve this, it is necessary for us to believe Tim is arse enough to put himself in a situation that deprives him of Sherry’s love. When we find out later that he was himself a victim, all will be forgiven and forgotten.

Sherry’s relationship with Alistair is platonic. They live together, for reasons too tedious to explain, but they live as brother and sister. Alistair is a good guy, who wants to marry Sherry. By constant importunity, he manages to wrangle a promise of marriage from her. Then Tim comes back into her life and Sherry has to decide between following her heart or keeping her promise.

This story only works because of its LACK of sex. Sherry’s feelings are simon-pure. She is a virgin. At least, we assume so, since she has loved Tim all her life—and ONLY Tim. She has become involved with another man, at least on a social level, who is pressing her to marry him, but she has been true to her first love. Emotionally, mentally, and physically.

Today’s romance writer might have been tempted to bed Sherry with Tim, straightaway, then create some silly misunderstanding that separates them. Then today’s romance writer might have been tempted to bed Sherry with Alistair, or at least made Tim think she had, to amp up tension between the parties. That would have been a horrible mistake. And here’s why—

A little thing called sanction patterns.

Sanction patterns are social norms.

A community forms. That community has certain preconceived notions of what is acceptable. These are not ideals, though they may initially be based upon them. Sanction patterns change over time. What was once considered objectionable may become acceptable. Or, at the very least, tolerated by the community. Bearing a child out of wedlock, marrying a person of the same sex, etc.

Any time your character deviates from a social norm, you risk losing your reader’s sympathy. I do not mean to imply you shouldn’t take that risk. Anything but. I point this out to make you aware of it.

If Sherry loves Tim, it may be okay for Sherry to live with Tim, even to sleep with Tim, in your story, but what will readers think of Sherry if she sleeps with Alistair, whom she doesn’t love? That will depend largely on Sherry’s reasons for sleeping with Alistair. If she is doing it to forget Tim, your readers might let her slide, but if she is doing it to hurt Tim, your readers may lose all sympathy with Sherry.

Why? Because GOOD girls don’t sleep with men they don’t love. If you do, you fall into that class of persons who treat sex as a commodity. Viz, prostitutes.

Occasionally, you will see a modern story that disregards this sanction pattern. The manwhore or the no-strings-attached career girl who only wants a good time. But the story usually ends with them falling in love. That’s because we believe, as a society, that true happiness (or contentment) can only be obtained if we find that one special person to love and cherish for the remainder of our lives.

Sherry has settled on Tim as her choice of life partner. Some obstacles stand in her way, but in the end she gets her man. The reader is satisfied, largely, if not totally, because Sherry’s desire for Tim is not gratified until the end of the novel (and presumably in the safe haven of wedlock).

It may be old-fashioned, but it works.

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Description Checklist

To properly set a scene for your readers, you’ll need three key ingredients:

1. Unity

2. Emphasis

3. Coherence

To demonstrate, I will borrow a scene from a random novel from my bookshelf:

“Yonder, bluely spread with the splendor of the distance, lay all the vast country of the Superstitions, land of lost trails and tumbledown shanties, land of black malpais and memories. There, too, lay Thief River and all that remained of an outlaws’ rendezvous, reduced through the years to a handful of shacks that, like gray ghosts, stood scabrously creaking eerily along the dark street. These, and a ramshackle pole corral, still stood as a monument to past greed and perfidy. The rest was gone, scoured away by the desert winds.” Thief River, Nelson Nye, 1951

Notice how all the description blends together to evoke a single sense–and that is desolation. “Lost trails”, “tumbledown shanties”, “memories”, “gray ghosts”, “creaking eerily”, “ramshackle”, “past greed and perfidy,” “scoured away”. We the readers only see those objects that cultivate that sense. Nothing is added that would spoil the impression the writer hopes to make. For example, would there be any place in this description for flowers, sunshine, or laughing children?

According to Merriam-Webster Unabridged “coherence” is “systematic or methodical connectedness and interrelatedness especially when governed by logical principles: consistency, congruity”. Notice how well linked each part of the description is to the other parts. We the readers are standing some distance from the scene the writer is describing. This allows us to drink in the scene without forcing us to focus too closely on any one detail. The shacks are gray ghosts–mere outlines–without windows, doors, gutters, shutters, etc. Petty details are largely unimportant. What’s more, taking the time to limn them out would spoil the general effect. This is a mere relict of days gone by, “scoured away by the desert winds”.

Notice below how one incoherent dependent clause can ruin the symmetry of the scene.

“Yonder, bluely spread with the splendor of the distance, lay all the vast country of the Superstitions, land of lost trails and tumbledown shanties, land of black malpais and memories. There, too, lay Thief River and all that remained of an outlaws’ rendezvous, reduced through the years to a handful of shacks that, like gray ghosts, stood scabrously creaking eerily along the dark street. These, and a ramshackle pole corral, with a tubular steel gate and six-foot-high wooden fencing, still stood as a monument to past greed and perfidy. The rest was gone, scoured away by the desert winds.” Thief River, Nelson Nye, 1951 [addition mine]

When setting a scene, don’t give a grocery list of visuals. Decide what emotion you want to evoke, then choose details that help readers connect with that emotion.

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When and When NOT to Flashback

I recently read a best-selling novel that has been getting rave reviews. The author spent over a decade refining the story’s imagery. He made it all the better by setting the story in present tense, so everything was happening right now. Why then, was it such a chore for me to read it?

Where I thought this novel failed was in its layout. The story opens in what I assume is the present, but since all the chapters are in the present tense, there are a hell of a lot of nows to keep track of. After a brief intro to the two main characters, I am shuttled back in time several years, where I am introduced to the main characters again. As a frame story, this almost works, though it would have been better if I had been given a bit more present to digest first.

Rule Number One: I must care about Johnny Hero’s present dilemmas before I will care about his past difficulties. In the movie Kill Bill: Volume 2, the Bride (Uma Thurman) is sealed inside a coffin, where she will (presumably) soon die of asphyxiation. This is hardly the best time to cut away to a lengthy flashback, but it works in this instance because the delay in getting her out of her Wild Wild West predicament adds to the tension in the story. And the flashback has real impact on the present story. When the Bride makes her escape (spoiler, sorry!), we believe she can, because we saw for ourselves the grueling training program she endured. Not only does the flashback serve this particular scene, but it also serves later parts of the story as well, when the Bride uses a technique she was taught during her training to—you guessed it—kill Bill.

There is a right way to use flashback and a wrong way. A flashback should add to the story, not detract from it. It should be introduced at a time in the story when the present-time lull will be least felt. It should play a key role in the story. If it fails to serve in these three ways, you should leave it out.

One last word on flashbacks and odd arrangements of time in stories in general.

Supposedly, you can’t comprehend the shape of jigsaw puzzle pieces if they are lying on a table print side up. It’s only when they are turned on their backs and showing their dun sides, that you comprehend the way they are cut. The more detail you add into a story, the less you can play around with its presentation. Story-writing flukes like Pulp Fiction are an exception to the rule, but, generally, the quickest way to get from point A to point B is a straight line.

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Four Key Ingredients to Good Writing

Charles Dickens offered the following list of key ingredients to a well-written letter. They apply equally well to a well-written novel.

1. Power of Language

Word choice greatly affects a reader’s takeaway from any given piece of writing.

The short stout man and the big hairy dog went for a walk in the large dark park behind the small purple house.

After supper, the tubby man and the massive Husky went for walk in the park behind the house.

The fact that the park was large and the house small is not key to this sentence, so they can be done away with or revealed in some other way in the story. What matters is a man and a dog went for a walk in a park. Since the darkness might play an important part, the author indicates the time of day for the walk (after supper), which implies evening and darkness.

2. Fervor of Thought

“Fervor” is defined in the Merriam-Webster Unabridged as “intensity of feeling or expression: passion.”

Most Americans have read the classic Dick and Jane books. While they are useful for teaching children to read, they are pretty bland pap.

Father said, “I see a big dog.

Who can find it?”

“I see three little dogs,” said Dick.

“But I cannot find the big one.”

“I want to see,” said Sally.

“I want to see the three little dogs.”

A Dick and Jane sentence merely states the facts–I see three little dogs.

After he had swallowed the leftovers from yesterday’s overcooked supper, the tubby mechanic leashed his wife’s massive Husky for a walk in the park behind the house.

Here, we get some impression of the tubby mechanic’s feelings, simply by considering our own, if we found ourselves eating a reheated meal that was poorly prepared the day before. We also ask ourselves why we are left walking a dog that doesn’t belong to us. Is our wife at work? Or merely too lazy to take the dog out herself? Is our wife a bad cook? Or are we to blame for this culinary disaster?

3. Happiness of Expression

“Expression” is defined in the Merriam-Webster Unabridged as “felicitous or vivid indication or depiction of mood or sentiment.”

After he had swallowed the leftovers from yesterday’s overcooked supper, the tubby mechanic leashed his wife’s massive Husky for a walk in the gloomy park behind his house.

With the addition of the word “gloomy”, we get the impression that the tubby mechanic doesn’t enjoy walks in the park behind his house. Perhaps he is only going into it because the Husky needs a walk. He would much prefer to stay in his comfy, cozy home.

4. Importance of subject matter

While every piece of writing can be improved by key ingredients 1-3, key ingredient 4 is essential to EVERY good piece of writing. What is the point of this? Why should we care about the tubby mechanic’s walk in the park?

After he had swallowed the leftovers from yesterday’s overcooked supper, the tubby mechanic leashed his wife’s massive Husky for a walk in the gloomy park behind his house. That’s where he found his girlfriend’s mangled body.

Now we have the reader’s attention. The tubby mechanic has stumbled across a body. And not just any body. The body of his girlfriend. Where is his wife? Is she the murderer? If she isn’t, will she discover the tubby mechanic’s infidelity in the ensuing police investigation?

Don’t add details to a story that are NOT important, simply to boost your story’s imagery. Unless the girlfriend’s body is under the mulberry bush, there may be no need to wax prosy about its beauty or odor.

Indiscriminate showing is as bad as telling.

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Sell Them What They Want to Buy

“Sell them what they want to buy and in just the way they want to buy it.” – Samuel Crowther, The Romance and Rise of the American Tropics

Finding a market for your work is kind of like finding a man worthy of your love–a difficult, time-consuming and SOMETIMES a disappointing failure.

Popular tastes change. In a 1959 romance, our hero might be a gas station attendant with $5 dollars in his pocket and the big dream of putting a downpayment on a trailer once he’s finished helping his older brother through college. Today’s audience of rabid romance readers would kick this guy to the can–and how. They want someone a bit more–well, let’s be frank–rich. A wealthy man can provide your heroine (and theirs) with everything her acquisitive little heart desires.

Divorced/single women readers like second-chance novels, where the heroine reconnects with a long lost love from a dozen years ago, who heartily regrets her loss and wants to make up for it with mega hot sex and expensive dinner dates. Naturally, he’s started his own business and is making more money then he knows what to do with. All he needs in his life is the girl he loves (or the boy he loves, if you’re writing gay fiction) to achieve perfect happiness.

Curvy women readers have apparently developed a taste for muscle-bound hunks who shift, in their off hours, into lumbering grizzlies and a number of other interesting zoological specimens. The love of their heroine’s life is not hung up about body image, because his own body changes on a daily/monthly basis.

We could go on at some length about the needs of our readers. It is enough to say–satisfy them, and you have a market.

While no writer should ever chase a market, be aware of what market you are writing for. Check out other books in your genre. While your plot should be refreshingly different, it should have all of the basic elements necessary to the best stories that genre contains.

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