Over the years, I’ve collected a number of great quotes from writers teaching the craft. One of my favorites, from Mark Twain, comes in handy now and again:
“I never write ‘metropolis’ for seven cents, because I can get the same money for ‘city.’ I never write ‘policeman,’ because I can get the same price for ‘cop.’”
For a writer being paid by the word, it’s a good economic argument. We should be more judicious with our vocabulary choices, avoiding a ten-dollar word when a shorter one will do.
Writing isn’t just about conveying an emotion or telling a story. For some, the lucky ones, it’s a business. We make our daily bread based on the words we write, and it’s difficult to give them away for free.
One day in grad school, a professor was trying to make a point about the importance of editing and asked me how many drafts of a certain assignment I had written before turning it in.
I knew what she wanted to hear. As one of her favorite students, I was supposed to corroborate her recommendation to complete multiple drafts. But the truth was, I hadn’t. The assignment I turned in — the piece she loved so much — was a one-off: One draft and done.
But I couldn’t tell her that. I didn’t want to contradict her in front of the class. So before I answered her, I thought for a moment about what went in to that “first draft” I had turned in.
Here’s the answer (more or less) I gave to the class:
I revise as I write.
Every time I sit down to work on something, I reread what I’ve already written. For short stories and poetry, I might start from the beginning. For longer pieces, it may be the start of the previous chapter or whatever I wrote the previous day. But I always approach my writing first as an editor, looking at it with fresh eyes. Once I’ve made sure what came before is clear, I start writing more.
And the next time I pick up my pen — or sit down at the computer — to write, I start the process over again.
Nowadays, editing is such an integral part of my writing process, I don’t think about it unless I’m working off of someone else’s notes. Then I always save my original draft and start a new one, out of fear that a paragraph I cut or a favorite line that I change may be lost forever.
I like to start off each session with the skeptical eye of an editor, looking for the pitfalls in the narrative and reminding myself of the seeds I planted along the way. It’s a lengthier process.
It also goes against the spirit of NaNoWriMo, and just about every other bit of writing advice I’ve ever read. Stephen King recommends writing “with the door shut,” keeping your editor away until you’re done writing. I prefer to work in tandem with my editor, revising as I go along.
However you do it — whether you choose to write first and edit later, or edit as you go — keep your editor’s hat handy. No first draft is good enough. Revise, revise, revise.
“So, how small is the lens? Could it fit on the head of a pin?”
Roger looked excited, in a conspiratorial kind of way. He loved it when new tech was small enough to fit on the head of a pin.
“Smaller,” I told him. “The entire camera could fit comfortably on a fly.”
Roger let out a sound that – though he was far from being a 12-year-old girl – sounded something like, “Squee!” He clapped his hands together and turned the laptop to get a better look.
I let him enjoy the image of the sorority bathroom. It was harmless, mostly. And it wasn’t like anyone was going to catch us. Even if someone discovered the camera, no one could trace it back to us.
The entire camera had been built – atom by atom – as part of an exercise in nano-manufacturing. I had designed the lenses myself. It had taken a team of graduate students to do the rest. The best and brightest in Georgetown’s engineering program had spent several thousand hours creating the world’s smallest wireless video camera.
It’s not easy for me to put aside character building in favor of story building. The main character has always been my stepping off point for building a new short story or novel. I like setting down the backstory on my character before I begin.
For this reason, I really loved the ABC television series Lost. Each week, we were able to delve into the backstory of a new character, further fleshing out the survivors of Oceanic flight 815.
You might think the writers of the hit television show had a good understanding of all their characters, certainly their main ones, before they started filming the pilot episode. You’d be wrong.
As you may know, the handsome doctor Jack (played by Matthew Fox) became the de facto leader of the survivors on the show. What you may not know is that when the show was in its infancy, the writers had killed Jack during the pilot episode. But Fox’s portrayal of the likable character convinced the executives (and in turn the writers) to keep him alive. They knew they had a good character that the audience could root for.
The decision to keep Jack ended up driving many changes in the series. First and foremost, Kate (Evangeline Lilly) was no longer going to be the leader. Jack was. Second of all, it created the often-bemoaned love triangle between Jack, Kate, and Sawyer (Josh Holloway). By the end of the series, we realize the show was really about Jack’s journey.
When I started writing my latest story, I knew very little about my main character. This was — if you’ll pardon the expression — “out of character” for me. I needed to put plot first, because I was writing for an upcoming anthology and the story’s idea seemed more important than the main character.
So this time, I decided to let the story drive my character. The result gave me three good pieces of insight.
Your main character can be defined to the reader by how he/she reacts to elements (e.g. characters, events) in the story. As with Jack, sometimes it just takes one heroic action to make a character likable.
The actions of the character are equally important in progressing the story. If the character isn’t willful enough to move the story forward, he/she shouldn’t be your main character.
The story must drive change in your main character. If your character doesn’t grow as a result of his/her experience, then it wasn’t a good story.
I’m pleased with the story that I wrote (and the fact that I cranked out a 4,000-word story over the course of a weekend). More importantly, I’m pleased that a great character emerged from the story, where none had originally been.
So, the lesson here is to listen to your characters carefully, but don’t be afraid to let your story change them. The best character you create might be a minor character you had intended to kill off.
Censorship isn’t a popular topic among writers, but I understand why some people feel justified in trying to protect their children, their families, and their communities from ideas that are not their own.
Ideas are very powerful things. And when ideas conflict with our personal beliefs, our instinct is to fight back.
After all, ideas can change people. Yes, as much as we like to deny personal responsibility, when we allow ideas to be shared we run the risk of changing minds. People introduced to new ideas begin to think in new ways.
And if that happened, it could create all sorts of problems:
Women could vote
Children could receive an education
The disabled could find jobs
All races could be treated as equals
Anyone could fall in love and marry
Individuals could become more important than institutions
We could put an end to pollution, save endangered species and ecosystems, and become conservators of our planet
We could live in peace
So, the next time someone says to you they don’t want you to read a book, remember this. They are probably saving you from ideas that could make you see things in a different way.
I’ve already blogged here and elsewhere about my difficulty writing description. My prose tends to be terse and action-oriented, much like the television, movies, and comic books that have influenced my work. I think in pictures, and write only what needs to be shown.
This was not always the case.
Back in college, the most baffling comment I ever received from an instructor was to “show, don’t tell.” I had no idea what this meant. I assumed that it meant that I needed more description, but I discovered it was really more than that. It was about setting the scene and putting the reader there with my character.
It’s one thing to say, “There was someone in my apartment.” That’s telling. It’s quite another thing to show the scene. In order to show the reader what was happening, I had to learn to write on a different level.
A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a post over on my blog about “Creativity and TV crime.” I talked about watching too much television during my formative years and how that had a profound impact on my storytelling. But today I want to talk about another medium, one that had an equally important connection to my desire to write.
I’ve been a fan of movies since I was a kid. When I was young, my parents would pack us kids into the family car on Friday nights every summer and take us to the Fox 50 drive-in theater up the street. We saw Disney films like Now You See Him, Now You Don’t and Herbie the Love Bug. Disney movies became synonymous with family outings, a tradition I carry on today with my family.
I can’t count the number of ways that movies have influenced my writing. I write stories with a 3-act story structure used in screenplays. I see my actors and actresses playing the roles of my characters, which helps me flesh out descriptions. I hear music and add it to the “soundtrack” of my story. Most of what I know about heroes, villains, romance, drama and comedy comes from the movies.
And when I’m having trouble visualizing the direction of story, I like to imagine what the trailer would look like. A good movie trailer hits the high points of the film leading to the climax. When I envision the trailer of my story, I hear a voice-over, a swell of music, and the titles that grab the audience’s attention. If nothing else, it helps me to write a good synopsis.
By the time I reached high school, I had seen a lot of movies. I read magazines about movie special effects and make-up. I dreamed of working at a movie studio. But Hollywood was half a country away, and it wasn’t likely to happen. At some point during my senior year — as I waited in line for snacks at a concession stand — I made the decision to become an English major when I enrolled in college. I wanted to write stories.
And if somewhere down the line those stories were made into movies, all the better.
Before I begin to set pen to paper (metaphorically) on my stories, I like to have several conversations with my main character.
As with any job interview, questions help me consider whether or not he/she can get the job done. But in truth, these conversations sound more like a prolonged therapy session with a psychiatrist.
Me: So, tell me a little about yourself.
Main Character: Well, I have this weird problem with perception. I can’t read words as they appear. I see words, and I can read them, but they make no sense. The sign at McDonald’s may say “Over one billion served” but I see the words “Dolphin spatula green sycamore.”
Me: I see. So, how long has this problem been going on?
MC: Since my accident, I think. I don’t remember anything about my life before that. My doctor says I must have learned to read at some point, because I can associate words and pictures in my head. I just can’t read them correctly.
Me: And how is this going to make for an interesting story?
MC: Well, lately I’ve been able to read a sign on the side of the road. It seems to be directed at me. It says, “Turn here, Martin.”
Me: That’s rather specific.
MC: Yeah. My doctor thinks it’s a good sign, that my brain is trying to repair itself.
Me: What do you think?
MC: I think it’s kinda creepy. My wife thinks I should ignore it. But I feel like someone’s calling to me. I want to follow the sign.
Once I have a good understanding of what makes my main character unique, I can begin to build a story around him. I need to know some things, but not everything about him before I start. For instance, how did he meet his wife? What kind of life did he have before the accident? Answers to these questions may (or may not) come out in the story. There will be time for additional discovery later.
Depending on the story, I may want to have a similar conversation with my Main Adversary. The MA can be as important as the hero in a story. Think of Lex Luthor in Superman, or Darth Vader in The Empire Strikes Back. Good villains are a counterpoint to heroes. And they have their own reasons, their own motivations, for doing what other people consider “evil.” The trick to writing a villain is to make him/her believable. If they can justify what they’re doing in terms that seem realistic, you probably have someone worth writing about.
Secondary characters don’t need this kind of detail before I begin writing. Often, I will have characters with descriptions like “love interest,” “best friend,” or “receptionist.” They can be fleshed out later, but sometimes not until the second or third draft.
The key is to listen: to my characters, myself, and — probably — to a good shrink to sort out all the voices in my head.
“I don’t care to belong to any club that will have me as a member.” ~ Groucho Marx
The publishing industry is having problems. Some say the publishing model is broken. Others say the industry is in flux. Writers are questioning the role of the traditional publishing house in a digital world. Now, more writers are opting out of traditional publishing and exploring self-publishing.
E-book devices like the Amazon Kindle and the Barnes & Noble Nook have made it easier than ever to get self-published works into the hands of readers. For some, it’s a potential revenue stream for long out-of-print books. For others, it’s an opportunity to sell directly to consumers without an agent or publisher taking a cut of the profits.
It’s all so confusing now. Traditional publishers require agented submissions. Digital publishers are more accessible, and many don’t require agents to submit a work for you.
In self-publishing, an author writes, formats, and publishes a manuscript in a digital format (Kindle, ePub, or even PDF) and makes the work available on the Internet. Digital self-publishing requires no agent, no publisher, and no bookstore.
If there’s one failing to my writing it’s probably a lack of description. This isn’t to say that I don’t include any description. I do. But when it comes to including long, laborious passages about the moss-covered flagstones or the texture of the fabric in a character’s clothes, I tend to ignore it and move on.
For me, the story is the thing. So I prefer to write about the action and let the reader fill in the details with his/her imagination.
Personally, I blame this tendency on the game developer Infocom.
Back in the 1980s, when personal computers were little more than suped-up pocket calculators, the great game designers at Infocom put out a series of video games based on the Great Underground Empire known as Zork. Go ahead, Google it. I’ll wait. … You’re back? Okay.
Unlike the early arcade games and Atari console offerings, Zork was a text adventure. No pictures, just words. And the descriptions in the game were utilitarian, to say the least. If the game said the room included a table, you’d better believe there’s something on the table. A lamp? You’d better take it. Chances are you’ll need it later.