Tuesday, May 3, 2022

Five Things for Writers to Add, Five Things to Leave Out

Countdown to 10 year of HTWF: After 10 years and over 100 entries, this is the fifth to last posts (other than a coming Index Series).

It's rare that I don't find something, even in the work of a beginner, that delights me. It may be as little as a line of dialogue or a fresh idea, but I almost always have something to point to when I look to offer encouragement.

Ironically, I'm more frustrated by manuscripts that almost work. To read for a contest and find a page I know will cost the writer acknowledgment saddens me. And when I get lost in a story submitted to a literary magazine and see a scene that feels incomplete and will lead to rejection, it’s hard for me not to feel the loss. If only.

So, after all the pages, I’ve read by colleagues, potential contributors, competition hopefuls, and students, I’m offering my view of what deserves another look based on the tragic disappointments I’ve had. These naturally are subjective, reflecting the things that I look for or dread. Still, unless I’m eccentric, they might be worth considering before you hit send.

Five Things to Add

Flaws. The best way to create a boring character is to make him/her perfect. Some demon English teacher or inept editor has made writers terrified of creating unlikable characters. So too many stories are wrecked by heroes and heroines who are the equivalent of cottage cheese on white bread. I like characters who like mischief or suffer from cravings or bend the rules. I like them to face difficult choices and make the wrong decisions. I like strong villains who don't hold back and supporting characters to mess things up. I look forward to seeing a real arc that puts a happy ending in doubt and leaves scars.

Descriptions. A great conversation needs a good setting, but too many writers seem to imagine dialogue happening in white, windowless rooms. Exquisite words. Real conflict. But no context. Where are these characters? Sometimes, it's "in office." Or it could be "a living room." Both may be wonderful if I know what they look like, what they sound like, how they reflect the characters or, better yet, make them uncomfortable. Give me a heated discussion between two people attending a wedding, and I'll be happy, especially if I know what the bride’s dress looks like and that one of the people arguing is wearing uncomfortable shoes.

Shifts in power. I usually call these beats. Most commonly, a strong scene includes a conflict. The hero or heroine is struggling to achieve the story goal, which means he or she is looking for a certain outcome from the scene. Whether battling a flood or a villain or paralyzing terror, the scene should include gaining power or losing power. Coming closer to success or falling further away. If two characters are in competition, the scene generally has three to five moments when the advantage for one of them increases, decreases, or moves over to the other character. When the character I identify with wins a point, I cheer. When that character loses a point, I worry. That's good drama. It keeps me engaged. Just don't disappoint me by ending the scene without a clear understanding of how the situation has changed.

Surprises. I'm one of those people who usually knows who the murderer is long before the end of the novel. In other words, I'm a very active reader. That makes me appreciate twists and turns and especially (fair) surprises. Now, I don't need to come across what's unexpected on major issues. I can pretty well guess that the master detective will solve the case and that the romantic couple will live happily ever after. But don't make everything predictable. Don't show me just what I've seen before. At the very least, throw in some fun facts I don't know or have the character make a choice I hadn't anticipated.

Emotions. Ideally, I like complex emotions that reflect bittersweet experiences. I do quite well with stories that have the underdog win. I can stand up and cheer for a sports drama. I can take delight in a horror story that keeps me up at night and gives me bad dreams. I can even appreciate clever extrapolation or puzzle design in a science fiction story or a mystery. Both present intelligence and wit that exercise my brain in ways that are fun. But don't give me an essay or a diatribe intended to merely inform me or sell an opinion. That's not why I read fiction. Even worse, don't give me watered down stories where the emotion drains away because the writer takes no chances and doesn't seem to be fully engaged.

Five things to leave out

Exposition. I don't mean this literally. Every story needs to be clear and to have all the elements readers need for understanding. However, too many writers begin their stories with lots and lots of narrative about characters I don't yet care about and a world that hasn't caught my interest. At the beginning of the story in particular, less (a lot less) is more. It is amazing to me how consistently stories can be improved by eliminating most of the exposition in the opening scenes. As an exercise, I often have students highlight every bit of description, deliberation by characters, prologue, flash forward, and flashback that's in the first 20 pages. Most of it can be cut. Most of it needed to be written (so the writer would understand the story), but can be withheld until later or left out. The beginning of the story needs to set things up, but it also needs to raise questions. Too many writers answer all the questions in the early pages, distancing the readers and making the story dull. My rule of thumb is holding explanations and answers for as long as possible.

Realistic dialogue. I only want to hear what causes me to lean in. I don't want characters greeting each other (unless it's more than greeting). I don't want characters telling each other things they already know. I generally don't want characters monologuing. I generally don't want characters talking directly about their feelings. It's much more fun if they try to hide their feelings and fail. What people say in day-to-day life is generally tedious. They make arrangements to get their tasks done. They repeat (a lot). They courteously ask each other about their health. It's all very realistic, but I can get the same standing in line to get my drivers license renewed.

The weather. I'm fine with dramatic meteorology. I'm even okay with enough information to immerse me in the scene. But, too often, descriptions of a spring day or a winter evening that are comprehensive (really going beyond the weather, to be sure) and perhaps imagined to be poetic will stop a story in its tracks and lead me to seek diversion elsewhere. Description can do so many wonderful things in terms of creating mood or immersing me in a story or reflecting the inner states of characters, it's hard to not be disappointed when it's just there to be pretty.

Set pieces. Think chase scenes, fights, sex scenes, stunts, and jokes. If these are brilliant, they can be the most memorable part of the story. The problem is, few people seem to know how to write these. I think they get lost in their inner experience is and don't realize others are not sharing these experiences. Now, any of these can work if they are truly part of the story. They don't need to be marvelous if they advance the plot or deepen my understanding of the characters. The problem is that they often both bring the story to a halt and add nothing. A simple test: cut the set piece out and see if any of the story is lost. Obviously, if your genre requires set pieces (sex scenes for pornography), they should be there. Sometimes, readers skip past the actual story — seeing it as filler — to get to the set pieces. If that's your game, you understand that. Note: writing set pieces is an excellent exercise. Well worth trying. If what is created truly is brilliant and worth pausing the story, congratulations. Your readers will be delighted. If what you created is cliché or more of a delay than a delight, cut it.

Bad language. I'm not talking about curse words here. Though they can become both overwhelming and ineffective. It's all those words that undermine the prose that bother me. Adverbs. Limiters (some, a bit, most, etc.). Clichés. Weak verbs. Convoluted constructions. Anything that gets away from direct, strong, and clear writing diminishes the reading experience. I often feel like I'm hacking my way through a thicket when I read some work. My suspicion is that writers were so charmed by what they put on paper (which can include some wonderful plots and characters), that they couldn't see a need for rewriting. Or the words were too precious. Or they never read it out loud so they didn't notice the problems. Or they had ideas that made them feel vulnerable so they diluted them. Or they just got lazy. What comes across, sadly, is disrespect for readers (including editors).

I'm sure there are many other sins of omission and commission that could destroy opportunities for publication or derail a writing career. It's likely that I've missed your pet peeves. But, perhaps, some of these reflect a problem that hasn't been addressed yet in your own work. In which case, this blog might save some of your best work from extinction. That would make me happy.


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