The Writer's Tool Box

When I was in college at Ohio State, I took several creative writing classes. One non-fiction class that I was sorry to see conclude was taught by a fellow named Lee Martin, author of The Bright Forever, for which Lee was a runner-up for the 2006 Pulitzer Prize in fiction. A few of Lee Martin’s other titles include From Our House, Break the Skin, Quakertown and River of Heaven. Lee Martin always brought his ‘writer’s tool box’ to class. (He also brought windup toys every day, but that’s another topic altogether.) Lee’s tool box included four insertions that, if used correctly and well, allow a writer to break through the most durable word-jam and pry a piece of writing open, or at least allow it get off dead plumb. Here they are:
1--  “...at that moment I…” This tool always makes me stop and think about where the piece is. In other words, where am I going? It allows me to summarize a little, to make sure I’m on track and headed the right direction.
2--  “I didn’t know until then…” Ditto, a good chance to regroup, plus a great way to insert a new fact or meaningful item into the text.
3-- “It never occurred to me that…” Perhaps an even better way to redirect the vector of the story, or to bring the reader (and maybe even the author) up to speed on where the story is going.
4-- “I didn’t know that…” A useful tool to explain to the reader that things weren’t clear to the author either.
These tools are more useful for non-fiction, but they may be put to use in fiction, too, as a device the protagonist has at his/her fingertips to move the story forward. I don’t know if there’s a connection or not, but after using three of Lee’s tools in a piece of my own titled Body Language, a non-fiction tale based on one of my flying tours of Kauai, the story was picked up by Gemini Magazine and published under the title ‘After the Rain.’
For those struggling writers like myself, looking to unbottle the genie and write sentences that make the writing god weep in ecstasy, there’s no lack of people and websites and venues and resources out there to guide us along the way. The old adage is: ‘those who can, do; those who can’t, teach. In my case I was fortunate to have instructors like Lee Martin, a teacher who actually can—and does.
As for my own ability to write rather than teach, here for what they’re worth are my responses to a few writing queries posted to a writing group I belong to on G+, and additional insights from fellow writers.
This from Jane Turley, a wise and witty woman (WWW?) who posts at The Witty Ways of a Wayward Wife. ‘Oh. Dear. God. I am in serious trouble, readers.’ Three things about Jane’s clever post: one, she’s using the most mundane topic there is in the whole wide world (what is it with all the ‘W’s today?) to weave her wonderful tale, and that is laundry; two, she begins her blog post with one of my all time favorite writing devices, the one-word sentence. ‘Oh. Dear. God.’ Now, it’s really easy to overdo this, but an author who can pull it off has a shiny new tool. Third, it isn’t hard to find something to write about, it’s just behind the door of the utility room, as Jane Turley shows us here. Laundry? Sure.
Next we have a very clever author who actually gave up a thriving medical practice (okay, he retired, but still…) to blog and write. Mr. Timothy Hurley, no relation to Jane Turley, is author of Shortstack Funny Stories. He blogs at The Lunatic Assylum. Hurley’s focus is often current events, and a perusal of his posts quickly demonstrates that he doesn’t hesitate to use his laser wit, much like he used a scalpel in a previous life, to wring out the best and most whimsical drippings from any topic. There is humor, and there is sarcasm, and the combination of the two is, again, easy to overdo, but a great tool in the right hands.
Chaunce Stanton, author of recently published The Blank Slate Boarding House for Creatives, is a period piece about warring magicians in which Mr. Stanton novelizes the clash of artistic sensibilities and magic. The intersection of history and art is also a great writing device, and it’s put to good use here. But Stanton’s other, perhaps better, writing tool is one he uses in an earlier book titled ‘Baby Proof: A Humorous How-To Guide for Bad Grandmothers.’ Here we have a book about a twist that turns a rock-solid social truism on its head. Bad grandmothers? Impossible? Well, maybe not. It’s up to us writers to unearth the unearthly, and make it real, a tool we shouldn’t hesitate to utilize.
Finally, here is Marian Allen, author of the wonderful Sage Trilogy that’s a must if you’re looking for a highly textured, wonderfully complex but satisfying fantasy read. Marian Allen’s blog is titled, oddly enough, Marian Allen— Fantasies, mysteries, comedies, recipes. A recent post mentions a timely tool: memoir as a source of writing prompts. We tend to forget that, as Ms Allen says, “...let’s take memoirs as a starting point, go through writing one’s life, and end with writing from life.’ The key part of this is writing from life. There are those who say ‘write what you know,’ of course. This poses a challenge to young writers, those too recently out of the gate to actually ‘know’ much. But I remain convinced that anyone who’s graduated from, oh, say, third grade has a story to tell. It doesn’t have to be Hemingway or Oates or Faulkner. But it has to be real, and if not true then true-able, if that’s a word. I guess it is now.
Which brings me to my, perhaps painful conclusion today. A tool I admire and have used a time or three myself is the made-up word/phrase/verb/ending etc. An example is ‘true-able,’ which, as I write this, is less than an hour old. Made up words are an art form. In yesterday’s New York Times Magazine’s ‘That should be a word’ section we find ‘Stuckler,’ meaning someone backed into a corner by a previous hardened belief. Recently I searched for a word meaning a repository for old jokes until needed again, and crafted my own, ‘Humordor.’
I love authors who verb-alize, that is, make up their own verbs as they scribbilate along. Okay, it’s an awful example. Make your own.
Phrasing can be fun, and a great way to avoid using cliche’s. Hard as a rock could become ‘hard as pea-gravel’ or hard as cold/fresh/icy/buttered concrete.’ Buttered? You get the idea. Endings can be a fun, satisfying writing tool as well. It’s too easy to overdo ellipses…  But they can create suspense, and ease clunky transition troubles. A sudden complete reversal in an ending can be a great device, of course, as anyone who’s seen The Crying Game will attest.
In any case, just creating one’s own writer's tool box may be useful when the laundry is piling up, Syria is making headlines, grandmothers are being arrested for stealing candy from infants and the lunatics are taking over the asylum, in other words, writers are hard at work.