So I've been typing pretty much stream-of-consciousness style as I try to discover what plot changes need to happen. I'm nowhere near done with the process, but I'm going more in-depth with plotting than I ever have, because now I'm not just writing for myself. I used to think that writing out scenes would move the plot along without having to plan stuff out ahead of time, and that may still work for me when I'm not writing for anybody else's eyes.
I'm not used to having to change major parts of my stories; I tend to think, 'But that's the way it's always been, and that's the way things happened.' Keep in mind, I've had the major characters in my head since somewhere in the late 70s. That's a lot of time for ideas to become cemented, whether they work or not.
However, my recent writing course, my helpful critters on CC, and reading Cohen's book have brought home to me that I must break open the box of my own making. I wrote a couple exercises for the course in first person; I always write in some variation of third, and I want to stretch myself. Art pointed out specific things in my first-person exercises that he felt worked well, and I was so surprised! While writing the first one especially, things felt forced and unnatural at times.
I've learned that the proverbial box is all right to help one get a grip on the basics, and then you have to bust it wide open to let air and rain in so new ideas will grow.
The plot issues have chips and cracks in them now. I feel the answers are there, hidden beneath years of assumptions and mistakes and a not-helpful fondness for the way things used to be. I'm taking individual plot points and looking at them from other angles. How does this point move the plot forward? What am I trying to say with this idea? If I want to keep it, what's the most effective way to get my intention across?
Exploring different possibilities for scenes also lets me peer into my characters' souls more. Trist is the girlfriend of gang leader Coyote; Neal has feelings for her though I've wondered how to realistically portray that. In cutting windows into my box, I've glimpsed her human side. She will eventually turn against Neal, but in the beginning, she has moments of thoughtfulness.
Out of seemingly nowhere, it recently came to me that Sophie, a singer who becomes important later in the story, lives in a house decorated in a Moroccan theme. That part may make it into the WIP. Sitting looking at the Christmas tree in my house, I sank into a seconds-long scene between Sophie and Sandy. He admires her Christmas tree, dripping with obviously old ornaments. She says that on every tour, her people search for antique ornaments in every country she stops in.
I like that scene a lot, because it gets to the heart of who Sophie is: she loves being adored by her fans, she has no trouble throwing her weight around to get what she wants, she doesn't apologize for being rich, but she believes deeply in family ties and traditions. Those expensive ornaments are reminders of tours and the places she's visited and the traditions of the people there. They remind her of Christmases growing up, when her family moved around a lot and sometimes all they had on Christmas was each other and the tree. Other people might look at them and say, "Wow, she's a show-off."
Without the foundation of the first draft of the WIP, I wouldn't have known that Sophie is sometimes very contradictory. She'd be a one-dimensional character. Now, I can have fun finding out what motivates these people, and their humanity will come through in my writing.
This is what Art meant by "what do your characters want?" What makes them who they are? Who they are dictates what they do and say. My inner editor will tweak this information to make it workable for fiction. And gradually, I'll have a compelling plot with convincing and persuasive characters.
I'm so excited! It's like discovering the characters all over again! I get to explore new scenes with them, finding hidden gems. Our relationship has the depth of years, with the shine of newness. Damn! I love writing! It never gets old!
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Monday, December 13, 2010
Thus begins the winter
Hey folks, sorry I've been off the grid. Working retail in 4th quarter has had me feeling homicidal occasionally! Plus I've got a sick pet, and my online writing course wrapped up recently, so it's been one thing after another.
My instructor, Art Edwards, mentioned a book on writing during the course and it sounded helpful, so I bought a copy. It's "Writer's Mind" by Richard Cohen. I've read a bit, and so far, I like how Cohen thinks. The first sentence of his preface is: "A writer is someone who is always learning to write." I find that a relief. He doesn't seem to expect that, once I finish reading his book and writing my manuscript, that the work will get accepted for publication and I won't need to work on my craft anymore. If he'd implied that, I'd have returned the book.
I even like the cover. The edition I have shows an ocean wave curling over into a tube. It reminds me of being in "the zone", when ideas and sentences flow from my fingers and whole paragraphs are typed before I pause for breath. That's being in the calm middle of the creative wave, until doubts and decisions crash in on me.
Later in his preface, Cohen says: "There are no 'don'ts' in this book--no 'Don't write dream scenes' ... or 'Don't begin a sentence with and or but.' A writer is someone whose first reflex, on being confronted with a taboo, is to break it."
You gotta love somebody who will say that!
Art also suggested that I find novels written in a style similar to my own and see how those authors handled various writing issues. Wellll, that's easier said than done! I could adapt lessons from a fantasy novel to my own WIP, probably, but how to find authors that write in a similar style? I write in a linear way, with clear details meant to help readers visualize scenes easily. In fact, I think I write too clearly sometimes!
If anybody has suggestions for authors they think may help me, I'm all for checking them out. Now that snow has fallen and we're well into the last month of the year, it's finally time to curl into myself and read. I've been promising myself that once winter hit, I'd focus on improving my plot and working on some of the writing details that have plagued me. Plotting, plotting, plotting. I don't yet know how I'm going to come up with compelling plot twists, but that's up to my muse and her Magickal Crockpot :D
My instructor, Art Edwards, mentioned a book on writing during the course and it sounded helpful, so I bought a copy. It's "Writer's Mind" by Richard Cohen. I've read a bit, and so far, I like how Cohen thinks. The first sentence of his preface is: "A writer is someone who is always learning to write." I find that a relief. He doesn't seem to expect that, once I finish reading his book and writing my manuscript, that the work will get accepted for publication and I won't need to work on my craft anymore. If he'd implied that, I'd have returned the book.
I even like the cover. The edition I have shows an ocean wave curling over into a tube. It reminds me of being in "the zone", when ideas and sentences flow from my fingers and whole paragraphs are typed before I pause for breath. That's being in the calm middle of the creative wave, until doubts and decisions crash in on me.
Later in his preface, Cohen says: "There are no 'don'ts' in this book--no 'Don't write dream scenes' ... or 'Don't begin a sentence with and or but.' A writer is someone whose first reflex, on being confronted with a taboo, is to break it."
You gotta love somebody who will say that!
Art also suggested that I find novels written in a style similar to my own and see how those authors handled various writing issues. Wellll, that's easier said than done! I could adapt lessons from a fantasy novel to my own WIP, probably, but how to find authors that write in a similar style? I write in a linear way, with clear details meant to help readers visualize scenes easily. In fact, I think I write too clearly sometimes!
If anybody has suggestions for authors they think may help me, I'm all for checking them out. Now that snow has fallen and we're well into the last month of the year, it's finally time to curl into myself and read. I've been promising myself that once winter hit, I'd focus on improving my plot and working on some of the writing details that have plagued me. Plotting, plotting, plotting. I don't yet know how I'm going to come up with compelling plot twists, but that's up to my muse and her Magickal Crockpot :D
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Ruminations
When you write reality-based fiction, you walk more than one tightrope. One of the things always in the back of my mind as I work on my WIP is the idea of perception of reality. I base my story in reality, and adjust it for fiction. Thing is, everybody has their own perception of reality. Some readers are bound to see my adjusting for fiction as error. It’s easy to think you have a full understanding of some part of society or life. That’s how clichés and stereotypes are perpetuated. People hear about them and start to assume that’s how things really are.
Gangs are easy to make assumptions about. There are certain things, as I understand it, that a lot of gangbangers do and say. But it’s also true that news stories about them don’t generally talk about what really goes on their heads. Some of them do regret the violence.
My story is still at an early stage, of course. I’m going to revamp the early chapters to increase tension and draw readers in. But I have to think about how I do it. Once this thing gets published, how many readers might just think “That’s not how it really is. How can I believe the rest of the story if this part is wrong?”
I read something about writing that I stupidly cannot find who wrote it or where. It said something like, reality-based fiction is supposed to represent reality, not be reality. When you think about it, that makes perfect sense. You can’t drop reality wholesale into written fiction and expect it to be clear. There’s too many differences and limitations in written fiction for that to work. Anyway, who wants to read something they could get from a newspaper or online or from friends?
Reality-based fiction gives readers familiar things to hold on to and feel comfortable with. Then when it presents the fiction part, readers ought to be ready to believe it, if it’s done well. They’ll start to think, “Oh I can totally see that really happening” or maybe “That could only happen in fiction. But it’s great to speculate about it.”
What I’m trying to accomplish is shining a light on some things a lot of people prefer not to think about, but should, wrapped in an interesting tale. There’s enough fact--and human nature--in it for readers to recognize the issues I talk about.
It’s a privilege to be part of a group of people who have long been not just the keepers of collective memory, but a group that urges us to look hard at how we live: the storytellers. Those of you who are also storytellers, smile. Not everybody can do this. We need to do it as well as we can.
Gangs are easy to make assumptions about. There are certain things, as I understand it, that a lot of gangbangers do and say. But it’s also true that news stories about them don’t generally talk about what really goes on their heads. Some of them do regret the violence.
My story is still at an early stage, of course. I’m going to revamp the early chapters to increase tension and draw readers in. But I have to think about how I do it. Once this thing gets published, how many readers might just think “That’s not how it really is. How can I believe the rest of the story if this part is wrong?”
I read something about writing that I stupidly cannot find who wrote it or where. It said something like, reality-based fiction is supposed to represent reality, not be reality. When you think about it, that makes perfect sense. You can’t drop reality wholesale into written fiction and expect it to be clear. There’s too many differences and limitations in written fiction for that to work. Anyway, who wants to read something they could get from a newspaper or online or from friends?
Reality-based fiction gives readers familiar things to hold on to and feel comfortable with. Then when it presents the fiction part, readers ought to be ready to believe it, if it’s done well. They’ll start to think, “Oh I can totally see that really happening” or maybe “That could only happen in fiction. But it’s great to speculate about it.”
What I’m trying to accomplish is shining a light on some things a lot of people prefer not to think about, but should, wrapped in an interesting tale. There’s enough fact--and human nature--in it for readers to recognize the issues I talk about.
It’s a privilege to be part of a group of people who have long been not just the keepers of collective memory, but a group that urges us to look hard at how we live: the storytellers. Those of you who are also storytellers, smile. Not everybody can do this. We need to do it as well as we can.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Hiya
Shout out to Melisa! Thanks for joining me on this odd but always interesting journey that is writing. :D
Thursday, November 4, 2010
spare scene
So I wrote this little scene but I don't think it'll wind up in the manuscript, because it doesn't advance the plot. Worse, it repeats a point I've already made, but it seemed to make sense for the characters to talk about it. It's long for a blog post, but I like the scene, so I'm using it here.
It takes place in the band's house. Timo {short for Timoteo} was one of Neal's kids, all of whom were murdered by his former gang. The throne is the padded seat drummers use.
She’d been running around with her brother earlier. Now she wore the biggest smile Neal had ever seen on a kid. Holding a pair of sticks that were too big for her hands, she kept reaching for one of the cymbals. Sandy put a hand on her arm and kept talking. She glanced at him, then reached for a cymbal.
Leave it to Sandy to get all practical with a kid who just wanted to have fun.
Neal went a few steps closer. “Let the kid smash away. Don’t hold back another potential drummer.”
Her brown eyes widened at him then she leaned toward Sandy. Damn, was she afraid?
“Allison,” Sandy said, “have you said hi to Neal?”
She clutched the sticks in one hand and grabbed his shirt with the other, then leaned her face into him.
Sandy looked up at Neal. “She’s like this with everybody new. Once she warms up to you, though, she’s like Velcro.”
Timo used to be like that . . . he’d be, what, three or four now? Would have been, anyway. Neal pushed his hands into his pockets.
Allison peered at him though she still clung to Sandy. “Hi. I’m eight. And a half.”
“Wow. I’m almost twenty. What do you think of that?”
“Oh, that’s nothing. Uncle Sandy is thirty!”
Sandy glanced at the ceiling.
Neal laughed. “Yeah, he’s got me beat. Do you know how to play drums?”
She smiled and sat up. “Uncle’s going to teach me. He said he’d teach me when I turned eight, but I’m almost nine now.”
“Hey,” he said to Sandy, “never break a promise to a kid. Especially one you’re related to--her parents know where you live. Where’s your nephew? I expected him to be the one wanting to play.”
“He’s bonding with Brian over baseball. I guess Allison’s been talking about this a lot, but something always got in the way.”
“Well that’s a pretty shi -- flimsy excuse. If you don’t turn her into a drummer, she might latch onto keyboards, and how would that look?”
Sandy grinned. “Yeah, well, you’ve got a point.” He looked at Neal for a few seconds, then stood. “Hey, I’ve got to do something, why don’t you sit with her for a bit?”
“Me? Why? No no, she’s your niece.” Neal backed toward the door.
Allison frowned at them. “Somebody has to teach me.”
“Go on.” Sandy tossed his sticks at Neal and turned to Allison. “Hon, Neal will show you a little. I won’t be gone long.” He dashed out.
She settled herself on the throne, erased the frown, and pointed to the hi-hats. “How do those work? I couldn’t see what Uncle did to move them.”
Fixating on cymbals already; yeah, she was Sandy’s relative. Neal rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn’t even spent that much time with his own kids, how was he supposed to know what to do? He shuffled over and eased onto the other throne. “Well, there’s a pedal here, and you press it to move the cymbals.”
He demonstrated. Her eyes lit up. “Ooo! I want to do that.”
Neal let her take his seat. She clicked away then started tapping on them with the sticks.
After a couple of minutes, she didn’t show any sign of quitting. Maybe you had to be eight to get that big a kick out of just hi-hats. Or maybe being related to Sandy was enough. “Okay, you got the hang of that. Did you know that drummers move their arms and legs separately from each other?”
She beamed a smile at him. “Yeah, I watched Uncle before, and some of his friends. It looks hard.”
“It can be, when you first try it. But there’s a secret that helps. Sandy must be waiting for the right time to tell you.” She probably hadn’t seen a metronome.
Her eyes grew round. “What secret?”
“Oh, if Sandy didn’t tell you, I don’t think I should.” He sat and tapped on a floor tom gently.
She reached toward him and touched his necklace. “Pretty. Why do you wear that?”
Ah, shit. Tell the truth or take the easy way out? He put the sticks down. “It reminds me of my daughter. She’s not around anymore and sometimes I miss her. Don’t ask where she went. I won’t see her anymore, is the important part.” That was mostly true. It reminded him of all his kids, really.
Allison studied the little letter on its chain as if thinking hard about what he’d said. “I can’t tell what it is. How does it remind you of her?”
“It’s a letter I, the same letter her name started with. Isabel. But I called her Chabela most of the time.” He slipped it under his shirt. “That’s enough about that, all right?”
“I’m sorry it makes you sad.” Her face was so open and honest. Did she get that from Sandy too, or were little kids like that anyway? Probably most kids were sincere before the world fucked them up.
“Well, never mind. If you really want to learn drumming, you should ask Sandy to get you your own kit. Then you could practice anytime at home.”
Her eyes got huge again. “Ooo! But Mommy and Daddy might not like that. They say drums are loud. But I like loud.”
“I do too. That’s kind of the point of drums. I bet if you asked, they’d agree to let you have a kit.”
She scooted her throne over until it bumped up against his. She shouldered closer and grinned at him.
Damn, I think I just reached the Velcro stage.
It takes place in the band's house. Timo {short for Timoteo} was one of Neal's kids, all of whom were murdered by his former gang. The throne is the padded seat drummers use.
#
All that drum and cymbal noise! Who could be banging around on Sandy’s kit? --or was it his own kit? Neal strode to the music room but stopped in the doorway. Sandy sat behind his kit, next to Allison on another throne, wavy blonde hair just touching her shoulders. He talked about musical scales as he clicked the hi-hats.She’d been running around with her brother earlier. Now she wore the biggest smile Neal had ever seen on a kid. Holding a pair of sticks that were too big for her hands, she kept reaching for one of the cymbals. Sandy put a hand on her arm and kept talking. She glanced at him, then reached for a cymbal.
Leave it to Sandy to get all practical with a kid who just wanted to have fun.
Neal went a few steps closer. “Let the kid smash away. Don’t hold back another potential drummer.”
Her brown eyes widened at him then she leaned toward Sandy. Damn, was she afraid?
“Allison,” Sandy said, “have you said hi to Neal?”
She clutched the sticks in one hand and grabbed his shirt with the other, then leaned her face into him.
Sandy looked up at Neal. “She’s like this with everybody new. Once she warms up to you, though, she’s like Velcro.”
Timo used to be like that . . . he’d be, what, three or four now? Would have been, anyway. Neal pushed his hands into his pockets.
Allison peered at him though she still clung to Sandy. “Hi. I’m eight. And a half.”
“Wow. I’m almost twenty. What do you think of that?”
“Oh, that’s nothing. Uncle Sandy is thirty!”
Sandy glanced at the ceiling.
Neal laughed. “Yeah, he’s got me beat. Do you know how to play drums?”
She smiled and sat up. “Uncle’s going to teach me. He said he’d teach me when I turned eight, but I’m almost nine now.”
“Hey,” he said to Sandy, “never break a promise to a kid. Especially one you’re related to--her parents know where you live. Where’s your nephew? I expected him to be the one wanting to play.”
“He’s bonding with Brian over baseball. I guess Allison’s been talking about this a lot, but something always got in the way.”
“Well that’s a pretty shi -- flimsy excuse. If you don’t turn her into a drummer, she might latch onto keyboards, and how would that look?”
Sandy grinned. “Yeah, well, you’ve got a point.” He looked at Neal for a few seconds, then stood. “Hey, I’ve got to do something, why don’t you sit with her for a bit?”
“Me? Why? No no, she’s your niece.” Neal backed toward the door.
Allison frowned at them. “Somebody has to teach me.”
“Go on.” Sandy tossed his sticks at Neal and turned to Allison. “Hon, Neal will show you a little. I won’t be gone long.” He dashed out.
She settled herself on the throne, erased the frown, and pointed to the hi-hats. “How do those work? I couldn’t see what Uncle did to move them.”
Fixating on cymbals already; yeah, she was Sandy’s relative. Neal rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn’t even spent that much time with his own kids, how was he supposed to know what to do? He shuffled over and eased onto the other throne. “Well, there’s a pedal here, and you press it to move the cymbals.”
He demonstrated. Her eyes lit up. “Ooo! I want to do that.”
Neal let her take his seat. She clicked away then started tapping on them with the sticks.
After a couple of minutes, she didn’t show any sign of quitting. Maybe you had to be eight to get that big a kick out of just hi-hats. Or maybe being related to Sandy was enough. “Okay, you got the hang of that. Did you know that drummers move their arms and legs separately from each other?”
She beamed a smile at him. “Yeah, I watched Uncle before, and some of his friends. It looks hard.”
“It can be, when you first try it. But there’s a secret that helps. Sandy must be waiting for the right time to tell you.” She probably hadn’t seen a metronome.
Her eyes grew round. “What secret?”
“Oh, if Sandy didn’t tell you, I don’t think I should.” He sat and tapped on a floor tom gently.
She reached toward him and touched his necklace. “Pretty. Why do you wear that?”
Ah, shit. Tell the truth or take the easy way out? He put the sticks down. “It reminds me of my daughter. She’s not around anymore and sometimes I miss her. Don’t ask where she went. I won’t see her anymore, is the important part.” That was mostly true. It reminded him of all his kids, really.
Allison studied the little letter on its chain as if thinking hard about what he’d said. “I can’t tell what it is. How does it remind you of her?”
“It’s a letter I, the same letter her name started with. Isabel. But I called her Chabela most of the time.” He slipped it under his shirt. “That’s enough about that, all right?”
“I’m sorry it makes you sad.” Her face was so open and honest. Did she get that from Sandy too, or were little kids like that anyway? Probably most kids were sincere before the world fucked them up.
“Well, never mind. If you really want to learn drumming, you should ask Sandy to get you your own kit. Then you could practice anytime at home.”
Her eyes got huge again. “Ooo! But Mommy and Daddy might not like that. They say drums are loud. But I like loud.”
“I do too. That’s kind of the point of drums. I bet if you asked, they’d agree to let you have a kit.”
She scooted her throne over until it bumped up against his. She shouldered closer and grinned at him.
Damn, I think I just reached the Velcro stage.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Could we focus, please?
I'm thinking about the suggestion to read over each chapter with a severely critical eye, and why that's hard. I think it comes down to the inner writer child.
We all have one. Like regular children, they think their worldview is the important one. Everything they do is worthy of attention. That's not always bad, though. I believe our inner writer children {IWC for brevity's sake} provide the sense of wonder about our projects, that feeling of wooooo, this is cool and I really wanna keep going! That's vital to help us reach toward the sky.
Taking the leash off does enable us to explore new twists on tired phrases, take plot chances that even sometimes work!, and generally learn to think outside whatever box is relevant at the moment. But that IWC runs off, refusing to come when called.
No you don't, you can't catch me! Look at these pretty rocks, we can use these. I know, I have 500 over there, but these are different.
....Ah, no, dear child, they're really not. Remember the one we saw made into a necklace? There was just one rock, and we couldn't stop looking at it. Not the chain it hung on, or the wire wrapped around it, no, we kept looking at the rock itself.
The person who made that necklace believed in her ability to create something simple yet compelling.
I won't tell this part to my IWC, but taking this advice means I'll have to inflict some bruises and cuts on the little darling. But she's tough. She falls off tightropes and gets back up. I think having a few scars will do her a world of good.
I'm stealing the "quote of the day" from CritiqueCircle.com's home page:
The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing. - Stephen Covey
We all have one. Like regular children, they think their worldview is the important one. Everything they do is worthy of attention. That's not always bad, though. I believe our inner writer children {IWC for brevity's sake} provide the sense of wonder about our projects, that feeling of wooooo, this is cool and I really wanna keep going! That's vital to help us reach toward the sky.
Taking the leash off does enable us to explore new twists on tired phrases, take plot chances that even sometimes work!, and generally learn to think outside whatever box is relevant at the moment. But that IWC runs off, refusing to come when called.
No you don't, you can't catch me! Look at these pretty rocks, we can use these. I know, I have 500 over there, but these are different.
....Ah, no, dear child, they're really not. Remember the one we saw made into a necklace? There was just one rock, and we couldn't stop looking at it. Not the chain it hung on, or the wire wrapped around it, no, we kept looking at the rock itself.
The person who made that necklace believed in her ability to create something simple yet compelling.
I won't tell this part to my IWC, but taking this advice means I'll have to inflict some bruises and cuts on the little darling. But she's tough. She falls off tightropes and gets back up. I think having a few scars will do her a world of good.
I'm stealing the "quote of the day" from CritiqueCircle.com's home page:
The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing. - Stephen Covey
Saturday, October 23, 2010
First submission in writing class reviewed!
I’m enrolled in the “Rock and Roll Writing” course at BasementWriting.com, with Art Edwards as instructor. Art is the former bassist for The Refreshments and has published three novels. He’s reviewed my first submission, and my biggest flaw so far seems to be repetition. I have to laugh at myself for that, because I’m quick enough to point out repeating ideas when I crit!
Writing is amazing. People who do it can be so clear-sighted half the time, and the other half, they’re rather blind.
“But saying 'fill-in-the-blank' in my story is different,” my inner child whines. “And besides, it’s not repeating, if you’d just think about the nuances of the words you’d realize that.”
Well, dear child, it’s still not necessary.
Art used this passage as an example:
- - -
Lennie dropped his pencil on the papers and raised an eyebrow at Neal. “You’re interested in that? Have you done much physical work?”
Neal waited just inside the doorway. What was he getting at? “Why? You think I can’t handle it?”
“Some of the road cases weigh a hundred pounds,” Lennie said. “They’ve got wheels but it’s not easy moving them around. You’d be hauling amps, speakers, and whatever else needs to be moved. It’s back-breaking and you can’t cut corners. Everybody’s on a tight schedule on tours so there’s no screwing around when it’s time to unload trucks. Can you manage that?”
- - -
When I wrote that, it all seemed necessary. It’s astonishing to listen to what goes on in your own head. Justifications for various bits of dialog run by, are processed and accepted, almost before I even know they happened. For me, the big justification is character voice. I leave in Neal’s thoughts because I want to get across how he thinks, as much as what. Sometimes that’s valid, but the operative word is sometimes.
In the above example, Art suggested dropping certain phrases. When I read over the new version of the passage, my instant reaction was, “But that leaves out some of the points I was trying to make!”
Well -- yeah. Because those points were made elsewhere, or they really didn’t add anything important. Oh sure, Inner Child, you’re taking the high road and claiming that Lennie was making a point about how difficult the work could be, to somebody who’s never done anything like it. But the story is primarily for the readers, and -- wait, I was going to repeat myself ;) See what you think of this version:
- - -
Lennie dropped his pencil on the papers. “You’re interested?”
Neal waited just inside the doorway. “Why? You think I can’t handle it?”
“You’d be hauling amps,” Lenny said, “speakers, whatever else needs to be moved. Some of those road cases weigh a hundred pounds. Everybody’s on a tight schedule and there’s no screwing around.”
“Show me what to do and I do it.”
- - -
This is cleaner and, I think, does in fact flow better. Art offered some other tweaks of the submission, but what I’m most excited about is that he didn’t feel the need to tell me that the piece should be completely reworked.
The other side of this coin is that I feel more confident about my decision that the early part of the story needs more conflict and/or tension. The latest versions of those chapters, as posted on Critique Circle.com {also known as CC}, have too much talking and thinking. That’s a different animal, though no less important.
My only concern is how to trim phrases without losing too much character voice. Using that same passage again, it does seem to me that cutting those phrases drops some of Lennie’s personality. A character may say something in a less than ideal way because people do sometimes use too many words, but also because that may be how the character talks.
Baaahhh, none of that applies in that example, be honest! Len said all that in the first version because I thought it was important to show what he’d say if these people were real, {did I say if?}, but you can’t do that in writing. I need to take my own advice: writing should represent reality, not try to be reality.
Point made. So, shutting up :D
Writing is amazing. People who do it can be so clear-sighted half the time, and the other half, they’re rather blind.
“But saying 'fill-in-the-blank' in my story is different,” my inner child whines. “And besides, it’s not repeating, if you’d just think about the nuances of the words you’d realize that.”
Well, dear child, it’s still not necessary.
Art used this passage as an example:
- - -
Lennie dropped his pencil on the papers and raised an eyebrow at Neal. “You’re interested in that? Have you done much physical work?”
Neal waited just inside the doorway. What was he getting at? “Why? You think I can’t handle it?”
“Some of the road cases weigh a hundred pounds,” Lennie said. “They’ve got wheels but it’s not easy moving them around. You’d be hauling amps, speakers, and whatever else needs to be moved. It’s back-breaking and you can’t cut corners. Everybody’s on a tight schedule on tours so there’s no screwing around when it’s time to unload trucks. Can you manage that?”
- - -
When I wrote that, it all seemed necessary. It’s astonishing to listen to what goes on in your own head. Justifications for various bits of dialog run by, are processed and accepted, almost before I even know they happened. For me, the big justification is character voice. I leave in Neal’s thoughts because I want to get across how he thinks, as much as what. Sometimes that’s valid, but the operative word is sometimes.
In the above example, Art suggested dropping certain phrases. When I read over the new version of the passage, my instant reaction was, “But that leaves out some of the points I was trying to make!”
Well -- yeah. Because those points were made elsewhere, or they really didn’t add anything important. Oh sure, Inner Child, you’re taking the high road and claiming that Lennie was making a point about how difficult the work could be, to somebody who’s never done anything like it. But the story is primarily for the readers, and -- wait, I was going to repeat myself ;) See what you think of this version:
- - -
Lennie dropped his pencil on the papers. “You’re interested?”
Neal waited just inside the doorway. “Why? You think I can’t handle it?”
“You’d be hauling amps,” Lenny said, “speakers, whatever else needs to be moved. Some of those road cases weigh a hundred pounds. Everybody’s on a tight schedule and there’s no screwing around.”
“Show me what to do and I do it.”
- - -
This is cleaner and, I think, does in fact flow better. Art offered some other tweaks of the submission, but what I’m most excited about is that he didn’t feel the need to tell me that the piece should be completely reworked.
The other side of this coin is that I feel more confident about my decision that the early part of the story needs more conflict and/or tension. The latest versions of those chapters, as posted on Critique Circle.com {also known as CC}, have too much talking and thinking. That’s a different animal, though no less important.
My only concern is how to trim phrases without losing too much character voice. Using that same passage again, it does seem to me that cutting those phrases drops some of Lennie’s personality. A character may say something in a less than ideal way because people do sometimes use too many words, but also because that may be how the character talks.
Baaahhh, none of that applies in that example, be honest! Len said all that in the first version because I thought it was important to show what he’d say if these people were real, {did I say if?}, but you can’t do that in writing. I need to take my own advice: writing should represent reality, not try to be reality.
Point made. So, shutting up :D
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