P.S. Storytelling shouldn’t be sacrificed in the name of brevity. The length can ebb and wane as it gets perfected. For instance, during the draft I might write something like this:
The dog was mean.
Brief and to the point, huh? It’s also imprecise and unimaginative. So on the first rewrite it could wind up re-rendered into something like this:
The dog lunged against its chain and foam spewed from its mouth as it snarled at any people who passed by.
Now you can form a mental image. But this version is still rough around the edges and could use some improvement. Further rewriting could make it wind up as this:
Foam spewed from the Pekingese’s mouth as it lunged against the chain to hurl yaps at passersby.
Not only is the sentence more concise, but your imagery just got upended, huh?
While we’re on the topic of keeping it brief, the next post is going to be a short story I’m submitting for this month’s #BlogBattle. It’s been a while since I’ve written fiction with fewer than 80,000 words, so this could prove interesting.
Maybe I’ll title it The Dog Was Mean. Or maybe not….
For any Smashwords readers (or those who would like to become one), the two books of the End of an Age series that are currently available are being offered at a discount during their Read an Ebook Week sale.
Until March 9, the first volume, Darkness upon the Land, will be available for FREE. The second volume, Wail of the Tempest, will be 50% off.
One evening while tagging along with hubby on a conference, we were visiting with the other people at our dinner table when it came up that I was a writer.
“Oh?” One gentleman perked up. “Our daughter writes books, too.”
“Really?” I wondered if this was anybody I’d read or would like to read. “What books has she written?”
“We don’t know. She won’t tell us.”
The gears in my mind started to slip. “You can’t find them by her name?”
“She uses a pseudonym and she won’t tell us what it is.”
The gears slid even more. “Do you know what kind of books she writes?”
“Yeah, they’re romance novels.”
“Oh.” I smiled as the gears got traction again. “That’s a lucrative market to write for.”
I did NOT say, “I get it now. She writes bodice-rippers and she’s embarrassed to have her parents read them.”
Writers are familiar with the mantra “Show, don’t tell,” but how much showing is too much? Obviously some genres will dictate those parameters, but other genres will give the author more wiggle room. At that point, considering what your audience wants is beneficial, but your personal preference will also come into play.
In the years of honing my craft, I’ve written something pertaining to every genre out there. But upon deciding to get serious about publishing, one matter I made up my mind on was that I wouldn’t produce anything that would make my mother blush. That meant when I wrote Darkness upon the Land, the first book in the End of an Age series, I had to get creative.
A coronal mass ejection causes electrical grid (and everything related) failure that plunges society into chaos. That means rioters and raiders use foul language and blood gets spilt.
My protagonists don’t cuss (although the hero will occasionally let one fly, but only in appropriate occasions), so I was able to use them as a filter for the language. By techniques such as describing someone’s dialogue referencing indiscriminate carnal relations, the point gets across without using the actual words.
The physical conflicts needed description, but going into detail on all the organic sounds and smells weren’t necessary (I also don’t want to make Mom gag). Shots were fired, the blood landed somewhere, and the characters dropped in certain ways. ‘Nuff said.
Sometimes in writing, less can be more. Striking that perfect balance is mental gymnastics that can feel like wrestling with inner demons. On the other hand, creative crafting can be quite fun.
Every time I draft a book it feels like battling the Law of Entropy. Words are not domestic creatures. They are wild and spurious and prone to scattering like leaves on a blustery day. The drafting procedure is like trying to capture those words and lay them out in an organized manner that’s intelligible to others, yet the wind continues to gust.
Hmm, maybe that’s why it’s called a draft….
Writers can run the gamut of pantser (make it up as you go) to planner (get those ducks in a row) and everything in between (poet and didn’t know it). My process involves taking notes and a timeline and weaving it all into a story. Yet in spite of that timeline, I find myself jumping back and forth in writing the draft:
Oh yeah, I forgot to include the crucial detail that sets up this event. You know, the villain’s attack would be more ominous if I foreshadow it first. And while I’m here I’ll clean up this nearby scene. Now my research tells me it’s bigger on the inside!
(For the record, I’m not writing any Dr. Who stuff. But in my End of an Age quadrilogy [trying to coin a new word!] I decided to make reference a couple of times to entrenched sci-fi series. In Darkness upon the Land it was Star Wars. Wail of the Tempest had Star Trek. I will use Whovian comments in the fourth book. But for the one I’m drafting now?)
Hmm … sounds like a topic for another blog.
Speaking of which, this one looks a lot like a draft. Disorganized. Rambling. Something I should be ashamed to show others. One genius (I wish I could remember who) once made the observation that first drafts aren’t meant for human consumption.
But I’m putting this mess out there precisely because it represents what we’re talking about. And some other time, in a more organized fashion, rewriting can be a topic worth visiting.
Ever hear of the adage about how writing is ten percent inspiration and ninety percent perspiration? While the perspiration does help to build compositional muscle, inspiration can actually be spurred by taking certain actions.
Attending conferences helps a lot of people. Visiting a locale related to one’s muse is useful to some people. People-watching can spark incentives for other people.
While I have the necessary drive to churn out books, I tend to view blogging as a scenic (AKA filled with potholes) side road that detracts from the journey’s destination. At the risk of sounding trite, life is a journey. Potholes and side roads and other hazards are standard features of any trip.
But with the right attitude, they also make the trip more, well, exciting.
A workshop I attended the other night fired up some inspiration for the ol’ blog post. The presenter, Melanie Peters, is a dynamic individual who has made part of her life’s purpose helping others reach their goals in life. Her enthusiasm is as genuine as it is contagious.
Want to experience some positive energy? Go check out her blog at intentergy.
There’s no reason to assume that just because inspiration is only ten percent of the formula, you need to wait for it to fall out of the sky. Spur it on. Do something. And when you discover your zeal becomes infectious and spreads to others, you’ll notice that certain contrary element in your life wasn’t so bad after all.
Any writer knows the crux of any plot demands conflict. And conflict usually means one or more of the characters are going to suffer on some level. If characters undergo emotional and/or physical turmoil that could potentially leave them blubbering in the corner on the bathroom floor (assuming they survive), it is one aspect of how they might reach the level known as the Christ Figure.
Okay, so using Darth Vader as an example is a bit of a stretch. Those who have been around long enough first came to know him as the ultimate bad guy, and the Christ Figure is usually associated with the likes of Frodo or Harry Potter. But authors like to experiment with archetypes, and the best antagonists also have depth. Tennessee Williams and Flannery O’Conner were writers with a knack for giving that element to detestable characters.
It’s easy to see why protagonists do get most of the limelight. After all, there is usually the element of sacrificing oneself for the good of others, and people who are wicked aren’t inclined to that sort of thing. If, however, the villain is more misguided rather than evil, the Christ Figure could possibly apply.
Even an egotistical motive could come into play. In one of my books, Wail of the Tempest, a malicious character winds up dying in the course of an unexpectedly noble act. There was no revelation or change of heart involved, but the heroine of the story nonetheless recognizes – and appreciates – the unintended sacrifice.
So the Christ Figure can have a myriad of uses, even on characters that are not so Christ-like. It doesn’t even have to be limited to the main actors of the tale, but can also be scattered around in various doses on the supporting cast. The corner of the bathroom has looked (or will look) appealing to most of us at one time or another, so we can identify with those characters.
Regardless of one’s religious predilection, this is a pretty powerful component in story telling that will be around as long as there are stories to tell.