It was the best of stories. It was the worst of stories. Or,
dank chill basements, rich coffee, the grind of the carriages wooden wheels.
I love 18th century literature. It gives you an unmistakable
point of view and rich, sensual imagery that puts you right in the story.
Unfortunately, many people will not give a tale a chance if it starts slowly if
the vocabulary demands a dictionary.
We live in the age of the ADD reader. They know new
experience is always a click away.
So, I had mixed feelings as I read a contest entry recently
that evoked the age of Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, and Edgar Allan Poe. Close
to half of what I read is from that era, but I know I am not the typical
reader. The careful development of setting and character in the contest entry
delighted me, but I knew that this story would not be a winner. The other
contest judges made sure of this, and their comments railed against the slow
pacing and lack of conflict.
The score I gave was more encouraging, but the other judges
may have been more helpful. Anyone seeking to have their fiction (or
nonfiction, for that matter) published should take a close look at how well
they are engaging readers. This has long been true for short story writers, but
today -- especially in popular genres -- novels require hooks, too.
There are many ways to create hooks.
The title itself is an essential hook that immediately cues the audience to genre and
assures them that the writer takes the work seriously. Misleading or boring
titles give editors and agents a reason to pass on work. And, if they survive
the editorial process, they reduce the chances of even a wonderful work
reaching its potential.
Once the first hurdle of the title is cleared, the first few
sentences of text must be negotiated. Amateur writers, if they consider a hook
at all, are likely to begin with action. This is a good instinct—strong verbs
make for powerful writing and action can create vivid images. The biggest
problem they have is a tendency to begin with chase scenes, fights, and
characters hanging on to ledges 47 stories up. After they finish those first
pages of danger and jeopardy, everything else that follows can be a letdown. In
addition, there is no complication to the excitement. We don't know the
character yet, so how can we care?
Action that is unusual is a surer bet. The chemist preparing
a sample that might prove his brother did not poison the investor. The hacker
searching for the malware that could destroy a civil rights lawyer. The young
woman macgyvering kitchen appliances and utensils to prepare a defense against
the zombie apocalypse.
All of these actions have the potential to provide
interesting details. They happen at times when the characters aren't running
for their lives and so reflection (that reveals character) is reasonable. And
each of these has stakes. The stakes can be raised even further if the
protagonist faces a dilemma. For instance, if the chemist has a choice between
implicating his brother and sending him to the gallows, or not doing the
test and allowing the blame to fall upon himself. This makes it tough on our
hero and delightfully agonizing for readers.
An action beginning can also raise a story question. Readers
will happily work their way through hundreds or even thousands of pages to get
a satisfying answer. Will Scarlett saved Tara? Will Dorothy find her way home?
Well Robin Hood avoid capture? I’ll note that there may be other questions
along the way. Dorothy's assassination of the Wicked Witch of the West is an
urgent question for much of The Wizard of Oz. But raising questions is
good, even if they are not “story” questions. And questions need not be raised
by actions.
One powerful beginning to a story is one that presents a
point of view, often a first person narration, that raises the question, “who is
this guy?” In science fiction, an unusual setting—two moons rising in the night
sky–can introduce questions and capture interest.
No matter which hooks a writer chooses to use, the beginning
needs to be clear and succinct. An unclear beginning will stop a reader cold. In
most cases, it breaks the contract between the writer and the reader. How can
you be trusted to tell the story and provide a good experience if you begin
with confusion? And, just as jokes are funnier when they have fewer words,
hooks are more effective when all the excess verbiage is cleared away. Be brief
and simple. Avoid compound, convoluted sentences and big words (at least at the
beginning).
There was a time when I finish every book I started. But too
many novels have taken me to unsatisfying destinations. Today, I only finish
about three quarters of the novels I start. (I follow a rule my wife taught me—read
100 pages minus your age, and then decide to put the book down or read to the
end.) Of course, this is for books that I've purchased. I read the first few
pages of many more books and most of those don’t end up in my shopping cart. (Of course, there are those
peculiar people who turn to the last pages. For those, you want to create
Endings That Buzz).
Writers, you are facing writers who are likely to be less
tolerant than I am, so hook them and hold them.
I love the careful development of story and character, too. Maybe it's just because I'm old, but I like the author to introduce me to their characters properly and not just toss me into a scene where I don't know who anyone is or what the heck is going on.
ReplyDeleteNeither's wrong. It all comes down to audience, doesn't it? I think one reason why I tend to alternate between classics and contemporary writing is because I like a variety of approaches. I'd be sad if the old style disappeared, but I also enjoy being tossed off a cliff from time to time. Thanks for the comment, Julia.
ReplyDeleteI love the careful development of story and character, too. Maybe it's just because I'm old, but I like the author to introduce me to their characters properly and not just toss me into a scene where I don't know who anyone is or what the heck is going on
ReplyDeleteI'm actually comfortable BOTH ways. And I think alternating helps keep me sane in a frenetic world. I brought this up to some writers recently and I was surprised at how vehement some were about how "boring" 19th century literature was. Dickens got trashed. I guess the film versions work for some people. Hmm.
Delete