Have you?
Have you ever been out and about in the real world (writers can leave said real world at will, you know ;-P ) and seen something that just makes you stop, stare, and think "There has to be a story there" ?
Imagine, if you will, the most stereotypical biker you can. A big guy in leathers with a black motorcycle jacket covered in patches. Long brown hair, tattoos over every piece of skin not covered by his clothes, two days worth of beard and an etched in granite "Don't *** * with me" look on his face.
Got that image? Good.
Now, picture the passenger on the back of his bike... I promise you can't do it on your own.
Think of a little girl. A pink princess, maybe 6 years old with sparkly sandals and a pink dress, complete with a fluffy backpack on her back. She's so small her legs hang barely past the seat, and there she is, hanging onto Mr. Hell's Angels' vest with her little hands and wearing what has to be his helmet on her head. (It's big enough that it covers her head and neck, resting on her shoulders.)
This was the scene I saw as this guy peeled out of the local Elementary school. And I was certain that there was a story there.
Maybe it's because writers are semi-self-trained to be better observers, but the details of something like that stick with you even from only a few seconds notice.
Obviously, this guy hadn't expected to pick up a little girl from school, as evidenced by the borrowed helmet and the dress (no one who has ever ridden a bike would put a kid on the back in shorts or a skirt - take it from someone who was short enough that her leg fell directly on the hottest parts of the bike below the seat..ouch) Yet, Mr. H.A. did it.
Maybe he was her dad or uncle or older brother, he could have been the nicest guy in the world who lived next door and did Mom a favor, or there could have been an emergency and he was the only available to pick the kid up -- who knows -- but that's the sort of "what happened" question that creates the first parts of a forming story.
The point of this seemingly pointless ramble, is that sometimes you don't have to go looking for inspiration. Sometimes it darts out of an alley in a 1954 Lincoln and almost takes off your bumper. And sometimes it's as shocking as a kid with a poodle backpack on the back of a Harley.
Tag! You're It!
Friday, October 15, 2010
Labels:
dialogue tags
And as this is freeze tag, and I've caught you, now you have no choice but to stay there and read my blog. Ha! I win!
When did dialogue tags become a "topic of concern" with writers? Aren't they supposed to be somewhat benign in the grand scheme of things?
I always thought so, which is why I'm usually surprised to see (major) questions about the "acceptable" number and types of tags "allowed".
(Before I go off on the bulk of this post, I'm going to point something out here -- you are not in English class. Even if you are a student who still attends class, and one of those classes is English, you're still not in English class when you're writing for professional reasons. Get the "rules" out of your head. There are no grades here and no one with a red pen searching for subtle irony and hidden themes.)
Now, back to our regularly scheduled attempt at sounding like I know stuff --
Dialogue tags are those little bits after a line of spoken word that identify the speaker, their mood, or actions. The most common, (and the one many will say should be the only tag utilized) is the standard "he said".
There are those who like copious numbers of tags:
"Tags," he said. "Are necessary to establish who is speaking which words at what time."
"Yes," she agreed. " Without tags, one would not know the conversation's participants without them.
"But it can get annoying when every single line is tagged for no real reason," he said.
"Quite," she said.
"And I mean every line," he said.
"I know," she said.
"Every. Single. One," he explained.
"STOP IT," she ordered. "You're annoying me!"
"Sorry," he apologized. (But he kept right on tagging away...)
And those who prefer their manuscripts to bounce around starkers:
"We are talking."
"Yes, my friend. It's a veritable verbal sparring match."
"I say my words."
"And I say mine."
"I might mention someone with whom I am familiar."
"I think I'll talk about my job."
"Who are you again?"
"I'm not sure, as the writer didn't think it was necessary to tell us who was speaking and in what order."
"But order is important! What if the reader can't follow the conversation without names? And why are we naked?"
"This writer likes the "starkers method" of dialogue tagging. It's supposedly very literary."
"But what are we doing while we're talking?"
"Standing completely still, I guess. And our voices must be monotone. In fact, you're lulling me into a stupor.
"Must leave conversation... too sluggish... "
"No action cues... feet won't move... goodbye cruel world..."
"And crueler writer..."
"All we wanted was a pair of pants..."
Tags are useful for pointing out unusual reactions, like laughter when the words being tagged would usually denote tears.
"He's dead." <--- on it's own, this is a statement that would include images of shock or mourning, and doesn't require qualification. "He's dead," she laughed.
"He's dead," he announced.
"He's dead," she said, trembling.
"He's dead," she asked.
"He's dead." His son fainted as soon as the words were out.
"He's dead," she explained. "Try someone else."
Different tags impart different energy to the scene and speaker. When the action or reaction doesn't follow logical paths, then tag away and make it easy for your reader to understand.
Making it "easy", brings me to the next sore spot:
"THROW AWAY THE THESAURUS!" some cry.
I'm not quite sure why they're passionate enough about the issue for it to warrant tears, but whatever floats your boat. (Though if you throw them away, then many, many trees will have died in vain and the planet will hate you. Not to mention that there are so few dinosaurs left in the world that the senseless slaughter of the only remaining abundance of "saurus" out there is just wrong. <-- sounded funnier in my head, but I'm not backspacing, so deal with it.) I think it's a fair guideline to say "stick to words you're familiar enough with to have as part of your daily vocabulary" rather than grabbing a thesaurus to find alternatives. "No!" she interjected. "You shall never wrest my shiny word bank from my hands! It makes me sound intelligent and literal."
"I think you mean literary," her opponent elucidated. "And you're wrong. It makes you sound stupid and stilted. Why would I wrestle you for a book? We'd just get dirty. So, unless there's cash involved, I'll pass."
"Ha! I am triumphant," she vociferated.
*snicker*
"You just vociferated in public!"
"So what?" she beseeched in a questioning manner of asking her interrogative.
"So next, you'll be asserting, bleeting, and dare I say ejaculating things into the conversation!"
(seriously, why do people do that? It's hardly mixed company conversation... unless of course you're into that sort of thing... Personally, when I see that one, I think some twelve year old has learned a new word from Daddy's "collection" of "vintage photo art" and thinks it's funny to use it. You know, the way twelve year olds laugh at toilet jokes.)
"Hmmf! You're just envious because you lack the fortitude and lexicon of jargon to do it!" she declared with all the declaration an exclamation point could declare.
"Sure... that's it... yeah..."
The "no thesaurus" advice is usually sound, IMO, but it's not just for dialogue tags. You shouldn't be tossing around words you don't use regularly enough to know their connotations. Words are like musical notes. They have pitch and key and tone, and if you put something sharp where you want a flat, then it's going to sound wrong.
One of the best compliments I've ever gotten from a beta reader was the woman who said my prose was full of "big" words, but it sounded natural as though that was the way I speak, and because of that it made things flow. Well, it is the way I speak. I don't walk around sounding like a Word-a-Day calendar, but I generally try to make wording precise. For me, using more common words will make me stumble.
If you're going to use the less common ways of saying things, make sure they sound natural when you do it, otherwise you'll end up typing page after page of useless lines.
"Oh, my phalanges!" The writer decried the pain in her aching fingers after a twenty hour type-a-thon.
"Your phalanges and my cranium," her poor, beleaguered reader lamented.
"Why are you remonstrating? It was my oculi which had to countenance the strain."
"You sound almost sanguine that you've made me endure this ultra-violent strain of frou-frou flu!" The reader was not at all sympathetic.
"But think of what it will do for your vocabulary!"
"You mean the part where it makes me think the words, while technically correct, mean things they weren't intended to convey?"
"Shut up," she said, remembering this was a post about dialogue tags and quickly adding one. (see, I'm on topic, really.)
The "purple prose" method of tagging isn't nearly as annoying to me as the "Captain Obvious" method. I can only assume that this is some cast-off love child of the "using said" advice and whatever remnants of English Lit are knocking around the writer's brain from High School.
"Somethings don't need explanation," she said. <--- the standard "said" tag. While it's obvious she is saying something, as this is dialogue, these little "saids" can help keep the speakers straight. That is in no way justification for any of the following. "Really?" she questioned, questioning her need to ask when the question mark was right there in plain ink.
"YES!" he exclaimed, using an exclamation point to drive the point home.
"I can explain," he explained, "The explanation is lengthy and very near infodump territory, but I shall explain it none the less."
Some things don't need to be tagged. The reason we have punctuation is so that the intent of the statement is carried through without having to add extra words to explain the connotation. Just like you don't have to tag a line with an action that's made clear by the dialogue itself. (If the dialogue says what comes next is an explanation, then you don't need a tag to say it as well.)
When did dialogue tags become a "topic of concern" with writers? Aren't they supposed to be somewhat benign in the grand scheme of things?
I always thought so, which is why I'm usually surprised to see (major) questions about the "acceptable" number and types of tags "allowed".
(Before I go off on the bulk of this post, I'm going to point something out here -- you are not in English class. Even if you are a student who still attends class, and one of those classes is English, you're still not in English class when you're writing for professional reasons. Get the "rules" out of your head. There are no grades here and no one with a red pen searching for subtle irony and hidden themes.)
Now, back to our regularly scheduled attempt at sounding like I know stuff --
Dialogue tags are those little bits after a line of spoken word that identify the speaker, their mood, or actions. The most common, (and the one many will say should be the only tag utilized) is the standard "he said".
There are those who like copious numbers of tags:
"Tags," he said. "Are necessary to establish who is speaking which words at what time."
"Yes," she agreed. " Without tags, one would not know the conversation's participants without them.
"But it can get annoying when every single line is tagged for no real reason," he said.
"Quite," she said.
"And I mean every line," he said.
"I know," she said.
"Every. Single. One," he explained.
"STOP IT," she ordered. "You're annoying me!"
"Sorry," he apologized. (But he kept right on tagging away...)
And those who prefer their manuscripts to bounce around starkers:
"We are talking."
"Yes, my friend. It's a veritable verbal sparring match."
"I say my words."
"And I say mine."
"I might mention someone with whom I am familiar."
"I think I'll talk about my job."
"Who are you again?"
"I'm not sure, as the writer didn't think it was necessary to tell us who was speaking and in what order."
"But order is important! What if the reader can't follow the conversation without names? And why are we naked?"
"This writer likes the "starkers method" of dialogue tagging. It's supposedly very literary."
"But what are we doing while we're talking?"
"Standing completely still, I guess. And our voices must be monotone. In fact, you're lulling me into a stupor.
"Must leave conversation... too sluggish... "
"No action cues... feet won't move... goodbye cruel world..."
"And crueler writer..."
"All we wanted was a pair of pants..."
Tags are useful for pointing out unusual reactions, like laughter when the words being tagged would usually denote tears.
"He's dead." <--- on it's own, this is a statement that would include images of shock or mourning, and doesn't require qualification. "He's dead," she laughed.
"He's dead," he announced.
"He's dead," she said, trembling.
"He's dead," she asked.
"He's dead." His son fainted as soon as the words were out.
"He's dead," she explained. "Try someone else."
Different tags impart different energy to the scene and speaker. When the action or reaction doesn't follow logical paths, then tag away and make it easy for your reader to understand.
Making it "easy", brings me to the next sore spot:
"THROW AWAY THE THESAURUS!" some cry.
I'm not quite sure why they're passionate enough about the issue for it to warrant tears, but whatever floats your boat. (Though if you throw them away, then many, many trees will have died in vain and the planet will hate you. Not to mention that there are so few dinosaurs left in the world that the senseless slaughter of the only remaining abundance of "saurus" out there is just wrong. <-- sounded funnier in my head, but I'm not backspacing, so deal with it.) I think it's a fair guideline to say "stick to words you're familiar enough with to have as part of your daily vocabulary" rather than grabbing a thesaurus to find alternatives. "No!" she interjected. "You shall never wrest my shiny word bank from my hands! It makes me sound intelligent and literal."
"I think you mean literary," her opponent elucidated. "And you're wrong. It makes you sound stupid and stilted. Why would I wrestle you for a book? We'd just get dirty. So, unless there's cash involved, I'll pass."
"Ha! I am triumphant," she vociferated.
*snicker*
"You just vociferated in public!"
"So what?" she beseeched in a questioning manner of asking her interrogative.
"So next, you'll be asserting, bleeting, and dare I say ejaculating things into the conversation!"
(seriously, why do people do that? It's hardly mixed company conversation... unless of course you're into that sort of thing... Personally, when I see that one, I think some twelve year old has learned a new word from Daddy's "collection" of "vintage photo art" and thinks it's funny to use it. You know, the way twelve year olds laugh at toilet jokes.)
"Hmmf! You're just envious because you lack the fortitude and lexicon of jargon to do it!" she declared with all the declaration an exclamation point could declare.
"Sure... that's it... yeah..."
The "no thesaurus" advice is usually sound, IMO, but it's not just for dialogue tags. You shouldn't be tossing around words you don't use regularly enough to know their connotations. Words are like musical notes. They have pitch and key and tone, and if you put something sharp where you want a flat, then it's going to sound wrong.
One of the best compliments I've ever gotten from a beta reader was the woman who said my prose was full of "big" words, but it sounded natural as though that was the way I speak, and because of that it made things flow. Well, it is the way I speak. I don't walk around sounding like a Word-a-Day calendar, but I generally try to make wording precise. For me, using more common words will make me stumble.
If you're going to use the less common ways of saying things, make sure they sound natural when you do it, otherwise you'll end up typing page after page of useless lines.
"Oh, my phalanges!" The writer decried the pain in her aching fingers after a twenty hour type-a-thon.
"Your phalanges and my cranium," her poor, beleaguered reader lamented.
"Why are you remonstrating? It was my oculi which had to countenance the strain."
"You sound almost sanguine that you've made me endure this ultra-violent strain of frou-frou flu!" The reader was not at all sympathetic.
"But think of what it will do for your vocabulary!"
"You mean the part where it makes me think the words, while technically correct, mean things they weren't intended to convey?"
"Shut up," she said, remembering this was a post about dialogue tags and quickly adding one. (see, I'm on topic, really.)
The "purple prose" method of tagging isn't nearly as annoying to me as the "Captain Obvious" method. I can only assume that this is some cast-off love child of the "using said" advice and whatever remnants of English Lit are knocking around the writer's brain from High School.
"Somethings don't need explanation," she said. <--- the standard "said" tag. While it's obvious she is saying something, as this is dialogue, these little "saids" can help keep the speakers straight. That is in no way justification for any of the following. "Really?" she questioned, questioning her need to ask when the question mark was right there in plain ink.
"YES!" he exclaimed, using an exclamation point to drive the point home.
"I can explain," he explained, "The explanation is lengthy and very near infodump territory, but I shall explain it none the less."
Some things don't need to be tagged. The reason we have punctuation is so that the intent of the statement is carried through without having to add extra words to explain the connotation. Just like you don't have to tag a line with an action that's made clear by the dialogue itself. (If the dialogue says what comes next is an explanation, then you don't need a tag to say it as well.)
The Secret to Writing Success
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Yep, you heard me. THE SECRET TO WRITING SUCCESS.
Since it seems that this is the number one question asked on writing sites, it appears that there exists a large group of unpublished writers out there clinging to the idea that there's a formula for publication. They ask and wheedle and bribe to find out the "real" steps needed to get published, because it can't be as mundane as:
1. Write a good book.
2. Edit it until you realize the ink in your pen has turned to blood.
~wait~
3. Get a Beta.
~wait~
4. Edit again (possibly get a transfusion if this step requires massive edits; see #2)
5. Query
~wait~
6. (hopefully) secure representation.
7. Edit again (you know your blood type by now, yeah?)
~wait~
8. Go on sub. (if the edits work out)
~wait~
9. (hopefully) sell.
~wait~
10. Get advance; do ridiculous dance of joy in your socks.
No, that can't *possibly* be the secret to getting published. It sounds too much like work, and writing is not work. Writing is life and breath and instinct and all those lovely, flowery, drively (<--my word, and no you can't have it!) things people like to dream about. Secrets are supposed to be spectacular and sneaky, and cut you through most, if not all, of the steps at once.
So, since I have officially read past my limit of whingy annoyances who get defensive with those who have experience, rather than thanking them for their time and insight, I'm going to break the cardinal rule of the wannabe writers' silent agreement with the universe and spill.
The Secret to Writing Success (which will guarantee you epic accolades and best-seller/movie fodder status) is....
Time Travel.
No, I don't mean books about Time Travel, I mean actual, Quantum Leap time travel.
Seriously, folks, it's not that hard. You take a bag, fill it with say a decade's worth of best sellers, run around the planet the opposite way (ala Superman) until it spins backward on its axis, and then (assuming you didn't overdo it and end up back in the Carter Administration) you type out "your" masterpieces and preempt their original authors. (Who probably weren't their original authors, as this is a well known and utilized tactic. There are seriously 3 authors in the world; everyone else just takes their stuff and runs really fast in reverse.)
Now, this may require a bit of sacrifice (Ack -- typewriters!), but you have to persevere. Trying to pass off a bound book with copyright information printed at the beginning will not be conducive you making people think you wrote the book ten years before it was published. And it'll all be worth it when you can march into an agent's office and say: "I have Harry Potter for you!" or "I have Twilight for you!" or "I have The Hunger Games for you!"
This is the point things get tricky.
Whoever you speak to at said agent's office will give you a funny look, and say something akin to: "I'm sorry, but we don't do in person solicitation. Please submit a query and sample to our mailing address."
To which you tearfully reply: "But... it's Harry Potter..."
And then (still not having blinked, and now considering calling security) they say: "I'm sure Mr. Potter has a lovely story, and if you'll have him send a query to our mailing address..." All the while, this person is making a note NOT to read anything with the name Harry Potter attached to it because HP is obviously a whacko stalker who can't follow simple instructions.
You see, before he was "Harry Potter!" or before Twilight was *cue sparkles* "TWILIGHT!" They were manuscripts. By writers. Who had never been heard of before. They meant nothing to anyone in the industry, and neither did their authors' names, which means.... *gasp*.... that they had to:
1. write
2. edit
3. beta
4. edit
5. query
etc... etc... etc...
Do you see where I'm going with this?
If there was some super sekrit formulaic formula to writing success, then the people who already have books out there would be using it. They'd use it every time.
The fact is -- NO ONE knows what will sell or what will click with the reading public. Maybe Joe will get a multi-book deal with a major house that never earns out because people took offense at one of his characters. Maybe Jane will self-publish something that gets Tweeted by a celebrity and becomes an international best seller. Maybe Stan will have an ugly cover that turns people away in droves. Maybe vampires will remain the single biggest draw in literature; maybe the majority will shun them for twenty years.
No. One. Knows.
No one.
All you know is that you have a book in you, one you want to share with the world. So write it! Make it shiny! Then work your tail off to make people realize it's just what they've been looking for.
(Though if any of you figure out how to do that Superman running backward thing, I wouldn't mind hearing about it... it might make a good book.)
Since it seems that this is the number one question asked on writing sites, it appears that there exists a large group of unpublished writers out there clinging to the idea that there's a formula for publication. They ask and wheedle and bribe to find out the "real" steps needed to get published, because it can't be as mundane as:
1. Write a good book.
2. Edit it until you realize the ink in your pen has turned to blood.
~wait~
3. Get a Beta.
~wait~
4. Edit again (possibly get a transfusion if this step requires massive edits; see #2)
5. Query
~wait~
6. (hopefully) secure representation.
7. Edit again (you know your blood type by now, yeah?)
~wait~
8. Go on sub. (if the edits work out)
~wait~
9. (hopefully) sell.
~wait~
10. Get advance; do ridiculous dance of joy in your socks.
No, that can't *possibly* be the secret to getting published. It sounds too much like work, and writing is not work. Writing is life and breath and instinct and all those lovely, flowery, drively (<--my word, and no you can't have it!) things people like to dream about. Secrets are supposed to be spectacular and sneaky, and cut you through most, if not all, of the steps at once.
So, since I have officially read past my limit of whingy annoyances who get defensive with those who have experience, rather than thanking them for their time and insight, I'm going to break the cardinal rule of the wannabe writers' silent agreement with the universe and spill.
The Secret to Writing Success (which will guarantee you epic accolades and best-seller/movie fodder status) is....
Time Travel.
No, I don't mean books about Time Travel, I mean actual, Quantum Leap time travel.
Seriously, folks, it's not that hard. You take a bag, fill it with say a decade's worth of best sellers, run around the planet the opposite way (ala Superman) until it spins backward on its axis, and then (assuming you didn't overdo it and end up back in the Carter Administration) you type out "your" masterpieces and preempt their original authors. (Who probably weren't their original authors, as this is a well known and utilized tactic. There are seriously 3 authors in the world; everyone else just takes their stuff and runs really fast in reverse.)
Now, this may require a bit of sacrifice (Ack -- typewriters!), but you have to persevere. Trying to pass off a bound book with copyright information printed at the beginning will not be conducive you making people think you wrote the book ten years before it was published. And it'll all be worth it when you can march into an agent's office and say: "I have Harry Potter for you!" or "I have Twilight for you!" or "I have The Hunger Games for you!"
This is the point things get tricky.
Whoever you speak to at said agent's office will give you a funny look, and say something akin to: "I'm sorry, but we don't do in person solicitation. Please submit a query and sample to our mailing address."
To which you tearfully reply: "But... it's Harry Potter..."
And then (still not having blinked, and now considering calling security) they say: "I'm sure Mr. Potter has a lovely story, and if you'll have him send a query to our mailing address..." All the while, this person is making a note NOT to read anything with the name Harry Potter attached to it because HP is obviously a whacko stalker who can't follow simple instructions.
You see, before he was "Harry Potter!" or before Twilight was *cue sparkles* "TWILIGHT!" They were manuscripts. By writers. Who had never been heard of before. They meant nothing to anyone in the industry, and neither did their authors' names, which means.... *gasp*.... that they had to:
1. write
2. edit
3. beta
4. edit
5. query
etc... etc... etc...
Do you see where I'm going with this?
If there was some super sekrit formulaic formula to writing success, then the people who already have books out there would be using it. They'd use it every time.
The fact is -- NO ONE knows what will sell or what will click with the reading public. Maybe Joe will get a multi-book deal with a major house that never earns out because people took offense at one of his characters. Maybe Jane will self-publish something that gets Tweeted by a celebrity and becomes an international best seller. Maybe Stan will have an ugly cover that turns people away in droves. Maybe vampires will remain the single biggest draw in literature; maybe the majority will shun them for twenty years.
No. One. Knows.
No one.
All you know is that you have a book in you, one you want to share with the world. So write it! Make it shiny! Then work your tail off to make people realize it's just what they've been looking for.
(Though if any of you figure out how to do that Superman running backward thing, I wouldn't mind hearing about it... it might make a good book.)
Blogging is HARD!!!
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
(Whinging is EASY!!!)
So, um... yeah...
It's now almost the end of September and the book that should have been finished in July is hopefully going to be finished in October.
I know I haven't put up a new post in a while (yes, I'm alive ;-P ), but I have a really good excuse...
Sort of...
Maybe...
*looks around to see if there's a convenient way to escape the conversation*
*whistles a bit*
*refuses to make eye contact*
GAH! You caught me! I have NO excuse!
I just... DIDN'T BLOG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There, I said it. I didn't blog. Ha! I willfully chose not to log in and type words on my screen! And while I don't have a good excuse, I do have a pathetic one... I didn't know what to blog about.
Seriously, that's it. I couldn't decide on a topic.
I guess everyone hits that point at some time or another, especially those of us who aren't yet published... either that, or I'm alone in my wish-washy world of "why would anyone want my opinion on things?"
It's a bit strange committing posts to virtual paper. I've never been the sort to start conversations, or even participate if I can manage to hover on the fringes without looking like a crazed inmate ready to make a break for it, and it's hard to consistently start "conversations" (which, in a way, is what these posts are.) I keep "hearing" my posts in my horrible twang that automatically drops my perceived IQ by 20 points and imagine anyone who pops over here with the strangest look on their face as they make their own hasty exit.
So, yes, Blogger the Terrible has made her return. I'll try and keep her in check from now on, and thanks to everyone who didn't unfollow this blog in the interim.
So, um... yeah...
It's now almost the end of September and the book that should have been finished in July is hopefully going to be finished in October.
I know I haven't put up a new post in a while (yes, I'm alive ;-P ), but I have a really good excuse...
Sort of...
Maybe...
*looks around to see if there's a convenient way to escape the conversation*
*whistles a bit*
*refuses to make eye contact*
GAH! You caught me! I have NO excuse!
I just... DIDN'T BLOG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There, I said it. I didn't blog. Ha! I willfully chose not to log in and type words on my screen! And while I don't have a good excuse, I do have a pathetic one... I didn't know what to blog about.
Seriously, that's it. I couldn't decide on a topic.
I guess everyone hits that point at some time or another, especially those of us who aren't yet published... either that, or I'm alone in my wish-washy world of "why would anyone want my opinion on things?"
It's a bit strange committing posts to virtual paper. I've never been the sort to start conversations, or even participate if I can manage to hover on the fringes without looking like a crazed inmate ready to make a break for it, and it's hard to consistently start "conversations" (which, in a way, is what these posts are.) I keep "hearing" my posts in my horrible twang that automatically drops my perceived IQ by 20 points and imagine anyone who pops over here with the strangest look on their face as they make their own hasty exit.
So, yes, Blogger the Terrible has made her return. I'll try and keep her in check from now on, and thanks to everyone who didn't unfollow this blog in the interim.
BACKSTORY
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Or...
How to not lose your friends before you make them.
Okay, so I am by no means an expert on writing. Honestly, I'm not sure anyone ever really is or can be because it's such a subjective thing, but there are skills associated with writing that can be generalized. One of those skills is the handling of backstory.
Backstory can turn into a serious thorn in the side of any author. There's so much to the characters that we want the readers to know and enjoy that it's tempting to put it all in the story from the first paragraph. We can delude ourselves into believing it's needed information and indulge our "creativity" by letting the backstory choke the "real" story.
When writing a story, think of it like making an introduction to someone you've never met - that is, after all, what you're doing. You're introducing readers to the world you've created. Imagine sitting down at a table to introduce yourself and, rather than just converse, the person you've just met starts rattling off their ENTIRE LIFE STORY without preamble or reason. It doesn't matter that this information is the basis of what made this person who they are; you don't need or want to hear it. Beyond that, it's just weird and rude to talk about yourself like that.
Yet, so many times, that's what (especially new) writers want to do with their characters.
Readers don't need a front-loaded version of the character's history any more than a new acquaintance needs the Cliff Notes Guide to You. If you treat a readership like a friendship, and share the information when it's appropriate, then everything will come out when it needs to. There will be mystery and intrigue, and the kind of secrets and kept back information that make a person unique (and tolerable) to those around them. Readers will seek to discover more, rather than force themselves to trudge on.
People can read books written either way, but most will choose to revisit the ones that don't force feed them information like a boisterous guest who doesn't know when it's time to leave the party. Just like people are more apt to visit friends than annoyances.
How to not lose your friends before you make them.
Okay, so I am by no means an expert on writing. Honestly, I'm not sure anyone ever really is or can be because it's such a subjective thing, but there are skills associated with writing that can be generalized. One of those skills is the handling of backstory.
Backstory can turn into a serious thorn in the side of any author. There's so much to the characters that we want the readers to know and enjoy that it's tempting to put it all in the story from the first paragraph. We can delude ourselves into believing it's needed information and indulge our "creativity" by letting the backstory choke the "real" story.
When writing a story, think of it like making an introduction to someone you've never met - that is, after all, what you're doing. You're introducing readers to the world you've created. Imagine sitting down at a table to introduce yourself and, rather than just converse, the person you've just met starts rattling off their ENTIRE LIFE STORY without preamble or reason. It doesn't matter that this information is the basis of what made this person who they are; you don't need or want to hear it. Beyond that, it's just weird and rude to talk about yourself like that.
Yet, so many times, that's what (especially new) writers want to do with their characters.
Readers don't need a front-loaded version of the character's history any more than a new acquaintance needs the Cliff Notes Guide to You. If you treat a readership like a friendship, and share the information when it's appropriate, then everything will come out when it needs to. There will be mystery and intrigue, and the kind of secrets and kept back information that make a person unique (and tolerable) to those around them. Readers will seek to discover more, rather than force themselves to trudge on.
People can read books written either way, but most will choose to revisit the ones that don't force feed them information like a boisterous guest who doesn't know when it's time to leave the party. Just like people are more apt to visit friends than annoyances.
Storytelling
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
GUESS WHAT? I'M NOT DEAD.
Woot! *tosses confetti*
July, unfortunately, turned into a useless string of days that sapped all hope of completing my WIP due to that annoyance we call "LIFE". It's like some people out there don't realize I have a very import blog to blather on. They expect me to actually DO something and participate in activities that don't center around my laptop. Sheesh. If someone had told me up front that family was a long term arrangement....
;-P
Now for the (slightly more) coherent part of this post:
Since I'm trying to convince my brain it needs to pay attention to the words on screen again, I'm going to unabashedly (<--- GAH! only a month and the adverbs are cropping up like kudzu!) lift my blog topic from Nathan Bransford, who I am more convinced than ever is a robot or an army of clones.
What is storytelling? What is writing?
They can be the same or polar opposites. Writing is what you learn in English lit, but not too many English classes teach you how to tell a story. (Thankfully, I was blessed with 2 English teachers who did just that: Ms. Rob and Ms. Soriano.)
On Nathan's blog, I wrote some sort of nonsensical attempt at literary analysis that said: Writing is pouring your blood on paper and breathing life into your characters, while storytelling is allowing to breathe through you. Sounds kinda pretty, but doesn't really say much, and for some reason, the topic wouldn't leave me alone.
My admittedly (<--- WHY with the adverbs? WHY???) chaotic thought processes started swirling around, pinging off every mention of storytelling ever cataloged in my long term memory before settling on two references:
1 - tribal storytellers
2 - Scheherazade
I suspected my subconscious was trying to tell me something, as it bounced from those two topics to Homer and the bard minstrels, and then finally (<--- okay, someone slap my hands away from the "l" and "y" keys already...) I figured it out --
Storytelling as a silent medium is a fairly recent development. Storytelling existed LONG before the novel (Robinson Crusoe, arguably the 1st work of written fiction was published in 1719). As writer's we're trying to capture lightning in a bottle, and it doesn't want to be contained. It wants to leap off the page and coil around the readers like the scent of sweet smoke tossed into a campfire for effect.
Scheherazade would never have survived her wedding night if she'd thrown a book at the Sultan and said, "just read it". The words are only part of the performance, and that's the key - storytelling is a performance contained in a static medium.
Telling a tale is taking the reader's hand and dragging them behind you like an excited child who can't help but point out every unexpected delight as they run along. You're wanting to show them what happens, they want to explore, and intend to come back after their first read to see what wonders they missed. It's the last bit of magic in the world that refuses to dim and encourages those who stumble across it to clap with all their heart's belief and relight the fire.
It's a thread that connects the past to the future, and the voices of those long dead who continue to live through the words they spoke into being. Their breath catches the next voice and the next until they're spoken out 2,000 years later.
And I think that's why people get frustrated when they discover that the ability to write isn't enough. They look at a book and to them, it's an object still and cold. It has no life or purpose or personality. Sure, you can put pen to paper and write down events, and so long as you have a basic understanding of your chosen language, it's technically a story. But that doesn't make you a story teller; it makes you a scribe.
To tell a story, you have to see beyond the page and feel the breath behind the words that makes the pages rise and fall even when they're closed on the shelf. Books end; stories don't. They go to sleep and wait for the next set of eyes and hands to wake them up. They search for that spark of magic and reach out to fan it high. They pull the reader out of themselves and into the tale so they can see and taste and hear it all.
As haunting as any ghost, a storyteller's words will stick with you long after the covers close. You feel their joy and share their pain. You grieve the loss of those you loved when they die in the tale, but rejoice knowing you can find them again at the story's beginning.
Storytelling is a master's craft.
Anyone can learn to play the violin, not everyone can stand before a full house on a opera stage and inspire utter silence.
Anyone can take shop, not everyone can feel the natural grain of wood and find the masterpiece that was always there within it waiting to be released.
Anyone can grab a paintbrush, not everyone can trap a piece of their own soul on canvas.
Anyone can learn to sing a song, not everyone set their tears to music so the listener cries their own.
Anyone can learn to write. Sadly, most will never learn to tell a story, or realize that the two are not the same thing. They will shake their heads and curse the inability of others to understand when they are the ones who refuse to see beyond the two-dimensional construct in which they try to contain a world that has no natural boundary.
Woot! *tosses confetti*
July, unfortunately, turned into a useless string of days that sapped all hope of completing my WIP due to that annoyance we call "LIFE". It's like some people out there don't realize I have a very import blog to blather on. They expect me to actually DO something and participate in activities that don't center around my laptop. Sheesh. If someone had told me up front that family was a long term arrangement....
;-P
Now for the (slightly more) coherent part of this post:
Since I'm trying to convince my brain it needs to pay attention to the words on screen again, I'm going to unabashedly (<--- GAH! only a month and the adverbs are cropping up like kudzu!) lift my blog topic from Nathan Bransford, who I am more convinced than ever is a robot or an army of clones.
What is storytelling? What is writing?
They can be the same or polar opposites. Writing is what you learn in English lit, but not too many English classes teach you how to tell a story. (Thankfully, I was blessed with 2 English teachers who did just that: Ms. Rob and Ms. Soriano.)
On Nathan's blog, I wrote some sort of nonsensical attempt at literary analysis that said: Writing is pouring your blood on paper and breathing life into your characters, while storytelling is allowing to breathe through you. Sounds kinda pretty, but doesn't really say much, and for some reason, the topic wouldn't leave me alone.
My admittedly (<--- WHY with the adverbs? WHY???) chaotic thought processes started swirling around, pinging off every mention of storytelling ever cataloged in my long term memory before settling on two references:
1 - tribal storytellers
2 - Scheherazade
I suspected my subconscious was trying to tell me something, as it bounced from those two topics to Homer and the bard minstrels, and then finally (<--- okay, someone slap my hands away from the "l" and "y" keys already...) I figured it out --
Storytelling as a silent medium is a fairly recent development. Storytelling existed LONG before the novel (Robinson Crusoe, arguably the 1st work of written fiction was published in 1719). As writer's we're trying to capture lightning in a bottle, and it doesn't want to be contained. It wants to leap off the page and coil around the readers like the scent of sweet smoke tossed into a campfire for effect.
Scheherazade would never have survived her wedding night if she'd thrown a book at the Sultan and said, "just read it". The words are only part of the performance, and that's the key - storytelling is a performance contained in a static medium.
Telling a tale is taking the reader's hand and dragging them behind you like an excited child who can't help but point out every unexpected delight as they run along. You're wanting to show them what happens, they want to explore, and intend to come back after their first read to see what wonders they missed. It's the last bit of magic in the world that refuses to dim and encourages those who stumble across it to clap with all their heart's belief and relight the fire.
It's a thread that connects the past to the future, and the voices of those long dead who continue to live through the words they spoke into being. Their breath catches the next voice and the next until they're spoken out 2,000 years later.
And I think that's why people get frustrated when they discover that the ability to write isn't enough. They look at a book and to them, it's an object still and cold. It has no life or purpose or personality. Sure, you can put pen to paper and write down events, and so long as you have a basic understanding of your chosen language, it's technically a story. But that doesn't make you a story teller; it makes you a scribe.
To tell a story, you have to see beyond the page and feel the breath behind the words that makes the pages rise and fall even when they're closed on the shelf. Books end; stories don't. They go to sleep and wait for the next set of eyes and hands to wake them up. They search for that spark of magic and reach out to fan it high. They pull the reader out of themselves and into the tale so they can see and taste and hear it all.
As haunting as any ghost, a storyteller's words will stick with you long after the covers close. You feel their joy and share their pain. You grieve the loss of those you loved when they die in the tale, but rejoice knowing you can find them again at the story's beginning.
Storytelling is a master's craft.
Anyone can learn to play the violin, not everyone can stand before a full house on a opera stage and inspire utter silence.
Anyone can take shop, not everyone can feel the natural grain of wood and find the masterpiece that was always there within it waiting to be released.
Anyone can grab a paintbrush, not everyone can trap a piece of their own soul on canvas.
Anyone can learn to sing a song, not everyone set their tears to music so the listener cries their own.
Anyone can learn to write. Sadly, most will never learn to tell a story, or realize that the two are not the same thing. They will shake their heads and curse the inability of others to understand when they are the ones who refuse to see beyond the two-dimensional construct in which they try to contain a world that has no natural boundary.
Outside Eyes
Thursday, July 22, 2010
I think it's very easy to underestimate the importance of fresh eyes when you're writing, and I don't mean giving yourself a break and coming back to a set-aside project. I mean getting an outside opinion. Yes, beta readers can do this well, but I've also discovered that having someone read a section of an in-progress story has its own merits.
Yesterday, I got some feedback from a contest entry on one of my WIP. (Yes, the one that should have been finished 3 weeks ago. Life gets in the way of art sometimes, as do migraines./whinge.)
Most of the things the person who read it pointed out were *face/palm* moments, and thankfully, most of them I'd already caught, so I'm not a total loser. (I will, grudgingly admit to having missed some spell-check proof mispellings... GRRR.)
The thing that this person's insight did, was pinpoint something that was inherently wrong with a particular scene. It was something I couldn't find, no matter how many times I read it, even though I knew there was something slightly off with the presentation.
I tried fiddling with word choice and tone, but I liked those they way they were. I added dialogue, but that didn't help the awkwardness of the situation. It did help the characterization, so it stayed, but I was no closer to figuring out what I'd screwed up.
Then BINGO. The person who gave me feedback pounced on it straight off. There was a component of the scene itself that made absolutely no sense given the world building. I had a secure bunker (like a fallout shelter) without running water (for a reason). That worked, but the fact that none of the adults had ever thought to stock it with supplies didn't. THAT was the thing I snagging myself on. Everything, everywhere else, was so carefully planned and plotted that finding these kids in a bunker with no food or water (One night only, don't flay me.) was totally out of character for the entire cast of characters.
I probably would have sat in front of my computer for another month before figuring that out on my own.
When we read our own work, we often read intent. Others read results. If you want to better your results, then you're probably going to have to let go of your "baby" and send him to the sitter for a few days.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go break into a secure bunker and drop some cookies and juice boxes for the munchkins.
Yesterday, I got some feedback from a contest entry on one of my WIP. (Yes, the one that should have been finished 3 weeks ago. Life gets in the way of art sometimes, as do migraines./whinge.)
Most of the things the person who read it pointed out were *face/palm* moments, and thankfully, most of them I'd already caught, so I'm not a total loser. (I will, grudgingly admit to having missed some spell-check proof mispellings... GRRR.)
The thing that this person's insight did, was pinpoint something that was inherently wrong with a particular scene. It was something I couldn't find, no matter how many times I read it, even though I knew there was something slightly off with the presentation.
I tried fiddling with word choice and tone, but I liked those they way they were. I added dialogue, but that didn't help the awkwardness of the situation. It did help the characterization, so it stayed, but I was no closer to figuring out what I'd screwed up.
Then BINGO. The person who gave me feedback pounced on it straight off. There was a component of the scene itself that made absolutely no sense given the world building. I had a secure bunker (like a fallout shelter) without running water (for a reason). That worked, but the fact that none of the adults had ever thought to stock it with supplies didn't. THAT was the thing I snagging myself on. Everything, everywhere else, was so carefully planned and plotted that finding these kids in a bunker with no food or water (One night only, don't flay me.) was totally out of character for the entire cast of characters.
I probably would have sat in front of my computer for another month before figuring that out on my own.
When we read our own work, we often read intent. Others read results. If you want to better your results, then you're probably going to have to let go of your "baby" and send him to the sitter for a few days.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go break into a secure bunker and drop some cookies and juice boxes for the munchkins.
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