STRUCTURE AND THE NOVEL: The Opening Act

Normal 0

WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE? Knowing Your Characters

Normal 0

I talk a lot about characterization.  A whole lot.  Because characters drive your story, and without a great protagonist (and hopefully, small supporting cast), your reader has no one to root for; no one with whom to catch a ride and travel the course of the novel.  And without that, you have no book—no matter how compelling the story.

 

Every story has to be someone’s.  If Earth blew up and neither you nor anyone you knew and loved were on it, would you care?  Would you even know?  But if a friend were stuck on a small island and the sea were rising around it, wouldn’t you panic? 

 

The characters in your story have to be so real, so visceral, that when they’re in peril, when one dies, your reader reacts as if to a loved-one’s passing.  And to accomplish that takes great skill from the writer. 

 

You, as that book author, must know everything about anything that has ever happened to your characters.  Not at the outset, of course—many authors write from discovery, getting to know their characters as they go.  But in the end, know them they must.  And then in revision go back and add textures, layers, nuances, in order to breathe life into the skeletons on the page.  The more important someone is in the story, the more depth you must evoke.

 

Say you’re writing a moral-twist tale about a thirty-something woman running for Congress.  She truly believes in her agenda, rather than politics for power’s sake (suspend all disbelief here—this IS fiction), and of course, is forced into a box at some point (pick a topic as to what), a la Willie Stark.  How will she react?  Do you, the author in charge of novel development, know how she responds to not only backing into a car in the parking lot when no one sees, but also what she does when her best friend comes to her with a shocking revelation?  Does she deem it more morally right to turn in the friend (whether national security is at risk or not), or to hold to the confidence? 

 

To know these answers, you must know our trusty heroine well.  Otherwise, she’ll come across the page as contrived.  Even though our story takes place with her in her thirties, what was she like as a child? A teenager?  What happened on her first day of school?  Did she get along with her brother?  Is she a classic Leo, always bossing everyone around?  Did she cry for days when her pet Springer Spaniel died?  Or did she conduct the funeral for her friend’s cat? 

 

Go back and write a short story that takes place during her childhood.  Write another when she reached adolescence, and another revolving around her first sexual experience or college days. Get to know her through all stages of her life.  None of these are to be included in the book—they’re for your benefit, as the author.  And ultimately, your readers. Because the nuances you learn about your hero through this process will serve to bring subtle character traits to the surface as the story progresses. 

 

Do this to a lesser degree with the supporting players.  Another major problem I often see is too large of a cast of characters, the number of which precludes any from really being fully fleshed-out.  Pare down your cast.  Only a handful can ever really be formed into fully functioning folks with much depth.  The rest need to step back a hair.  You can have a lot of people with bit parts—it’s the handful of main ones I’m talking about here.  Just know that it’s often more difficult to make a bit player come alive than the hero, with whom you have much more time to spend. 

 

This brings us, as always, around to viewpoint.  Giving a character a viewpoint signals to the reader that this person is hugely important.  Again, each one has to have his own arc in the story, her own piece of the story question.  Strictly limiting this will help you keep close tabs on each one, and how each fits into the plot. 

 

Plot and characters cannot be divorced, and we’ll talk soon about the Story Question, and how characters propel that along. 

 

Writers tend to give their people traits in laundry-list fashion.  Again, this is GREAT—for you, as the author.  But your reader is trusting you to tell her only that which is truly important to these characters in this story, and then to create and evoke it, rather than telling her about it.  The reader should get a sense of the Protagonist from the get-go, but then you shade and deepen her as the story goes—in the exact same fashion that you get to know a real human.  As a manuscript editor, I strongly encourage my writers to keep notebooks or lists or flashcards (whatever works for you) of each character’s physical descriptions, mannerisms, major and minor traits, etc.  That way you can always flip through and remember, which imprints the information on your subconscious mind and brings it to the surface at the exact time you need it. 

 

A lot goes into fashioning great characters.  You can’t just “think ‘em up.” That may be how it begins, and indeed, these exercises help with that, but the depth, the nuances, the intangible points that make folks in books seem real bubble up from the author’s deeper self.  You have to get quiet and listen to your people talk and think and move and be. 

 

Willie Stark, so the story goes, was based on the Louisiana political figure Hughie Long.  I never knew that man.  But I do know ol’ Willie.  And I’d be willing to bet he took off under Penn Warren’s hand in a way that the real politician never could have.  Now, that’s great characterization.  

STRUCTURE AND THE NOVEL: The First 50 Pages

Normal 0

 

We talked before about a novel’s opening line, and how important getting it just right is. 

 

So, now let’s say you’ve written that bang up first line, and now let’s focus on the rest of the book’s beginning—the first fifty pages.

 

Isn’t that just the hardest part?  I hear from so many writers struggling with where to start, how much to convey up front, and how active page one needs to be, etc., etc.  And the answers vary—a lot.  Depending upon in what genre you’re writing, for one thing.  A Thriller must begin very differently from a Western or Category Romance or even a Cozy Mystery.  But as far as novel development is concerned, the inherent factors remain the same.

 

The best way to begin a novel is just to begin it.  In other words, quit obsessing and write.  If you’re serious about the process, no one will ever see the first draft anyway.  And even if you’re of the sort who specifically outlines from alpha to omega, much will change once you get to that initial “The End.”  At which point, you’ll always go into revisions by rewriting the beginning.  Often, many times.

 

All right, so the original creation process is finished, and you’re into revisions—the actual book editing.  What do you want to accomplish with your opening?  HOW you do this, again, will vary by genre.   But WHAT you want to get done in the beginning crosses them all.

 

By far the biggest glitch I see is that the novel really begins about fifty pages in.  Writers, especially before finding their sea legs (no matter how long they’ve been at it—learning to write is not a matter of time so much as it is of willingness, dedication, and application), ramble along for a good way before finding the track of their stories.  Even seasoned writers do this, especially those who write from “discovery”—not knowing exactly how to get where they’re going until it opens before them.  The difference is, professionals then go back to cut and begin again, and aren’t afraid of killing their own words to do so.  Your editing arm will learn to point out where the pacing lags, or how much ancillary material needs slicing because much of that was necessary for you, the writer, to know, but not for the reader.  Remember: Your reader is trusting you to convey to him ONLY those things that pertain to these specific characters in this specific story.  The rest is just background material for you, the book author (and is merely noise for the reader). 

 

The next problem I see has to do with the book’s hook.  Now, entire volumes have been published regarding this subject, so I’m not going to delve into it deeply.  In fact, I really believe too much has been made of it, in that now writers are so sensitive to setting hooks that their books’ beginnings are often contrived.  Settle down here.  Yeah, your book needs a good hook, which is no more than a reason for me to keep reading.  And yeah, I need a sense of where the book is heading and who the main folks are from the get go.  But I don’t need a crash course in the characters’ histories, or an intricate foreknowledge of what’s to come.  That produces the opposite effect of what you seek—turning off your reader with so much detail that he spits out your lure and swims back into the bookstore’s sea.

 

A hook can be nothing more than a quirky character about whom I want to know more (unless, of course, this is a Suspense Thriller!).  Or a bizarre event that tweaks my interest.  And yeah, it needs to come in early enough to catch my curiosity so I keep going.  Rule of Thumb in Murder Mysteries is that the killing should occur on page one.  If you can’t hook ‘em with some sort of unique slaying, you need to pick another genre in which to write.  In all categories of Romance, my heart should stir in Chapter One.  In Mainstream, I should find a character compelling enough to cause me to want more.  And in Literary, the writing needs to take my breath—at least for moments, on page one. 

My very favorite opening to any book goes thusly:

 

            “In our family, there was no clear line between religion and fly fishing.  We lived at the junction of the great trout rivers in western Montana, and our father was a Presbyterian minister and a fly fisherman who tied his own flies and taught others.  He told us about Christ’s disciples being fishermen, and we were left to assume, as my brother and I did, that all first-class fishermen on the Sea of Galilee were fly fishermen and that John, the favorite, was a dry-fly fisherman.” 

 

I would have followed that author to the ends of the Earth.  And did.  

 

Here as well is where you establish the Protagonist—the person with whom your reader is to travel the course of this novel.  And, you must give a sense of his/her conflicts—even if the catalyst for the conflict (be it man or beast, internal or external, supernatural or drought) isn’t itself in evidence.  The point of the conflict on the main character is the important thing, not the conflict itself.  We have to move our hero out of his comfort zone—to begin the novel.

 

You must also firmly set the tone.  If this is to be a Murder Mystery of some sort, someone gets killed straight out of the gate, thereby setting an ominous tone (if it’s well done).  If the book’s a Literary one, the writing itself must effect the resonance that you seek. 

 

On page one, we must find the Story Question, which we’ll talk about in the next installment of Structure.  Because that Question will weave through each and every scene of your book.

 

Yep, a book’s beginning is tough to get right.  But once you do, your reader has bought a ticket to ride your train—the first obstacle to overcome! 

5 MOST-IMPORTANT WRITER’S RESOLUTIONS

Normal 0

 

The New Year has arrived, and with it, gazillions of resolutions.  Writerly ones included, of course!  I get tons of emails this time of year from folks recommitting to their book writing goals, which is a great thing.  The love of the written word, and how we all connect with it, always warms my heart.

 

But like dieting resolutions, scaling back a hair will help you successfully meet them.  So, let’s put our writing resolutions on a diet, so that we can put our power behind making our dreams come true, and focus on the crux of the issue. 

 

Number One:  Slow Down.  Everyone wants to be published yesterday.  That in itself isn’t a bad thing—it’s one of those goals that keep you slogging through the slough of despond, as John Bunyon would say.  But I can promise you this is one of those instances where the tortoise beats the hare.  The number-one thing I see that trips writers up is rushing.  I always cringe when someone comes back to me with revisions quickly—because I know before seeing them that everything will have to be redone!  Hurrying will leave cracks in the walls of your story’s structure someone will drive a Mack truth through.  And it’s a true creativity killer. 

 

Number Two:  Take a Publishing-News Fast.  Let’s face it—the news from publishing is mostly depressing.  Major imprints closing down.  Editors losing jobs all over the place.  The latest news of print sales falling 9 percent last year makes your heart plummet, even though this slack and more has been taken up with e-book sales.  Some of us have no choice but to follow the business end of things, but you don’t—you can take a nice long fast from this and let your creativity soar.  Whenever I’m writing, I let publishing go take a long hike—in the opposite direction from the path I walk. 

 

Number Three: Let your Creativity Soar!  Write, write, write, and write.  Don’t self-edit as you go, just tag along behind your characters and see where they take you.  Follow every thread, no matter how whimsical it seems.  In fact, the more fantastical in the creative phase, the better!  Run with it.  Laugh, play, dance with the drama.  You will go into book editing and revision way on down the line (so you never have to worry that you’ll be embarrassed later about some bone-head move now).  For now, be free! 

 

Number Four:  Damn the Naysayers.  And those are legion!  Let their lists of all the ways you can’t make it in publishing roll off your shoulders.  Easier said than done?  Nah.  Just let them ramble on and as they’re doing so, say (silently), whether to your own demons or those of your mother-in-law: “You’re probably right.  But at this minute, I’m immersed in novel development; I have a scene, chapter, story to write.  I’ll get with you later.” 

 

Number Five:  Remember that Writing Well is a Journey.  This is not a sprint, it’s a marathon.  Our point isn’t to be published next week.  Our point is to write beautiful stories with characters who leap off the page, and with whom we all want to tag along for their journeys.  All we’re looking for is progress, growth, the ability to see that what you’ve written today was better than yesterday, or last week, or last year . . .   And I can absolutely guarantee that if you write, if you read and study your craft, and write again, you will get better. 

 

And one day, maybe even in 2012, you will look up and realize:  I am a writer! 

Novel Editor Examines Elements Of Successfully Written Memoirs

Susan Mary Malone Takes Critical View Of Memoirs As A Genre In Book Writing

DALLAS, TX: Book Editor Susan Mary Malone (http://www.maloneeditorial.com) recently published a critical examination of the process for writers wishing to pen their memoirs. She advises writers to be aware of the difference between a life history and a memoir. The article can be found here: http://www.maloneeditorial.com/blog/?p=145

Malone, editor of over 40 books published through traditional publishing companies, advises that anyone seeking to write their memoirs needs to consider three very basic points before beginning the manuscript and throughout the writing. She also covers points having to do with the theme of the work, writing style and characterization. She stresses that these must be looked at, regardless of the content of the person’s story, in order to make a commercially successful memoir.

Malone states: “Ever since ‘Angela’s Ashes’ hit the scene (some sixteen years ago), the Memoir genre has been hot. And I get a lot of them, especially in this day of POD and e-books, where self-publishing is so easy, and so inexpensive. But one’s life story, no matter how tangled with twists and turns, how fraught with trials and tribulations, does not necessarily make for a compelling memoir. The genre itself is about something different.”

Susan Mary Malone has worked as an editor, columnist and journalist since 1993, with a BS in Political Science and minors in English and Journalism. She has a client list that includes NY Times Bestsellers, Essence Bestsellers and books featured in Publishers Weekly. She is also an award-winning author of fiction and non-fiction herself. She participates as a speaker in literary conferences such as the recent Harriett Austin Writer’s Conference (at the University of Georgia), the Blue Ridge Writer’s Conference, the South West Writer’s Conference, and the recent East Texas Writer’s Guild Conference, among others. Her full biography and featured list of published authors can be viewed at http://www.maloneeditorial.com/

SHAPING A BOOK

Normal 0

I often say that books are more than the sum of their words.  A real book is an entire entity—plot, organization, characterization, style, including all of the subheads for each one.  Circling all of these things is the entire forest—the shape of the book.  All of those elements comprise it, and, paradoxically, more.

 

You can excel in all areas of writing, and still not wind up with a good or publishable piece.  And when you don’t, provided you did indeed accomplish all your goals in the other areas, the problem lies with the overall form of your book; its structure, and most importantly in the end, its shape.

 

Many writers work from outlines, which is a great way to go.  Then you always have the structure in front of you and can reshape as you write while still being cognizant of the form.  But many writers, especially more Mainstream and Literary ones, don’t.  They write from “discovery,” letting their characters drive the story and take them down avenues they never would have imagined at the start.  It’s a freer form of writing, and one that allows for a greater range of creativity.  But it also leaves you with a big blob of a first draft.  Unfortunately, it’s this craft of sculpting away, of reshaping and refashioning, of book development that’s being lost in today’s world of publishing (the reasons for which could fill volumes and we’ll discuss later!). 

 

Once your first draft is finished and you’ve taken some time away from it, then begins the process of revision.  And of course, revision isn’t polish but rather a complete reworking of what you have.  Here is where you must see both the forest AND the trees—a difficult proposition at best—and one of the greatest challenges in editing books.  Here’s where those beautiful words come into jeopardy of being axed by the hand of a jealous god (you), and where you must learn not only to find clarity of sight, but also have the courage to kill your story’s lesser aspects. Or, as Hemingway once said, “I write one page of masterpiece to ninety one pages of shit. I try to put the shit in the wastebasket.”

 

Begin by taking a hard look at the overall shape of your book.  What is belabored? What is missing?  I.e., what needs cutting away and what, additional attention?  Map out the arc of your storyline, and the trials and tribulations your main character goes through.  Do you have a sagging middle?  Does our hero learn and grow through these trials, ultimately mastering the one thing, the final piece, so that he can save the day? 

 

Next, be certain that what remains is absolutely necessary.  Does a scene sort of further the plot? Does a section spend too much time on a character who doesn’t really have much impact on the story?  Do all avenues lead back into the main stream, or have you spent too much time describing a dry creek that while beautiful to look at, really doesn’t mean squat to the river as a whole?  (In fact, may bog it into muck, from which you, as the writer, can’t extricate yourself.) 

 

Focus is part of shape, rather than the other way around.  It’s a tool to make certain the form of your story has symmetry and function.  Anyone who’s ever seriously raised dogs or horses or cattle or any other animal understands very well how form relates to function.  You can have a dog with a gorgeous front and powerful hindquarters, but if it doesn’t fit together correctly, the dog can’t move worth a flip.  In animals, we call this “balance.”  And it’s no different here.  You can write a grabber opening, a cohesive middle, and a bang-up conclusion and if the front doesn’t flow into the end correctly, well, you just have a big non-moving mess.

 

Structure is a huge part of this as well.  It’s the infrastructure upon and around which you weave your story.  Structure revolves around Plot Points—where they must come in, among other things.  Yet, shape is still more.  Structure is part of shape, but not the whole animal.  Structure gives you the skeleton around which you add the muscles and tendons and ligaments and bone.  But you can take two dogs (or humans) with almost identical skeletal form, sending them in opposite directions, and they’ll come back looking very different indeed based on lifestyle (other genetic factors not withstanding). 

 

To effectively shape a book, you have to combine all of these factors and indeed, ALL of the ones about which we’ve been talking, into one well-fashioned form.  Again, it’s not the easiest thing in the world to pull off.  And until one finds his sea legs, the task can be overwhelming.  It takes time, practice, and lots of good instruction and book editing. 

 

What Michelangelo said of finding David in the marble holds true for writing as well. David was there all along, the sculptor said, he just had to carve away enough stone to find him.  Sometimes I do think his job was a hair easier in that what he chipped away were pieces of rock, and often what we as writers must carve out are sentences and sections and passages that contain our very best words.  Haven’t you had this happen?  You know, where you’ve written something that takes at least your own breath away, only to discover that it no longer fits the finished book?  Oh, how we hold to those passages, defending them for no discernible reason except that of course, we love them.  And that’s the rub in playing God—you gotta know when to let go, and have the fortitude to do so.  In the end, that’s what separates the amateurs from the pros.  

Another Malone Editorial Services Book Sold to a Traditional Publisher

Author Annabelle Charbit Bergenfeld Prepares For Publication In 2012

DALLAS, TX: Professional developmental editor Susan Mary Malone announced that another book she edited has been accepted by a traditional publishing company for publication. The book, “A Life Lived Ridiculously” written by Annabelle Charbit Bergenfeld, is slated for publication in April 2012.

The author, Ms Bergenfeld, stated: “Susan Malone helped me transform ‘A Life Lived Ridiculously’ from a partial story with potential into the hilarious, fast-paced comedy thriller that it is today.  Working with Susan has been delightful, as she was always encouraging and never let me give up.  When Susan takes you on, it’s because she believes in your story and in your talent. Susan will not let you get away with anything less than your best. As such, she is not just your editor, but your partner too.  I have been very lucky to have worked with Susan. Without her knowledge and support, ‘A Life Lived Ridiculously’ would not have found its publisher.”

Susan Mary Malone stated: “I’m really proud of this one. First of all it’s Mainstream, which in today’s market is VERY hard to sell! But most of all I’m really proud to see an author take a great idea and turn it into a really great book. I think this one will go far, so we’ll see come 2012.”

Susan Mary Malone has worked as an editor, columnist and journalist, with a BS in Political Science and minors in English and Journalism. She has a client list that includes NY Times Bestsellers, Essence Bestsellers, books featured in Publishers Weekly, and an author (Mary “HoneyB” Morrison) who recently secured a seven-movie deal. Susan is also an award-winning author of fiction and non-fiction herself. She participates as a speaker in literary conferences such as the recent Harriett Austin Writer’s Conference (at the University of Georgia), The East Texas Writer’s League, the Blue Ridge Writer’s Conference, the SouthWest Writer’s Conference, and the upcoming Golden Triangle Writer’s Conference, among others. Her full biography and featured list of published authors can be viewed at http://www.maloneeditorial.com

WRITING YOUR MEMOIR

Normal 0

Ever since Angela’s Ashes hit the scene (some sixteen year s ago), the Memoir genre has been hot.  And I get a lot of them, especially in this day of POD and e-books, where self-publishing is so easy, and so inexpensive.  But one’s life story, no matter how tangled with twists and turns, how fraught with trials and tribulations, does not necessarily make for a compelling memoir.  The genre itself is about something different.

 Now, a disclaimer here: If you’re already a famous celebrity, then your autobiography (and I term it that, as most hot celebrities these days aren’t old enough to write memoirs.  And, of course, the book is not written by them anyway, but by an actual book author!) will sell a lot of copies.  So, this doesn’t pertain to you. 

 But if you’re someone who’s seen a bit of life and wants to tell your life story, then you need to understand clearly what a memoir is all about.

 So first, let’s talk some about what it’s not.  A memoir is not a diary.  It is not a journal of this happened and then that and then finally, this.  It is not a calendar of the events of your life, and a listing of friends/relatives in it.  Even if you believe that the sageness of your years brings wisdom to impart, you still don’t have a viable book.

 A memoir, to be commercial, is not a family history, or a scrapbook of family lineage.  The commercial market doesn’t care if Uncle Joseph married Aunt Irene and had fourteen kids, five of whom died in childbirth with one succumbing to scarlet fever in his teens.  Now, YOUR family might care.  And if that’s your final market—i.e., you’re self-publishing a genealogy for your family alone—then that’s fine.  But if you want to sell this to the public, unless Joseph’s family had real impact on the point of the memoir (i.e., this is a family of cops, and one of the siblings became a serial killer), then all of that backstory pretty much needs to be left out.

 And there’s the crux: a memoir, as with any full-length book, has to have a point.  Although I stop short of Fran Lebowitz’s take: “Your life story will not make a good book.  Trust me,” some truth does exist there. We all have stories to tell.  If you want the general public to read yours, it must run the same gamut as in novel development.

 Just that you survived being molested as a child is not enough.  Just that you fled oppression from a third-world country to settle in freedom is not enough.  Just that your ship turned over in the choppy Atlantic and everyone died but you, really isn’t enough.  Of course, if you then ate the other folks . . . now we’re getting somewhere.  Or if you survived being molested and lobbied successfully to enhance victims’ rights’ laws.  Or, if you fled that third-world country and became a brilliant scientist, discovering the cure to the disease du jour . . . 

 Sounds suspiciously as though I’m back to the disclaimer, right?

 Well, yes and no.

 A huge recent success in this genre is of course Eat, Pray, Love.  What did it do?  Told a tale of universal truths, beautifully.  And what is still one of the most successful books of all time is Angela’s Ashes.  And you know, McCourt didn’t really have a terribly unique tale.  But here is what he did do:

            1). He honed in on his story.  In other words, he found a theme, stuck to it, and developed it beautifully.

            2). The writing itself is spectacular.  In other words, he honed his craft for decades before penning the book.

            3). His characters were as compelling as those in finely crafted fiction.

 The big three—those elements that make up a good book, whether we’re talking Mystery, Fantasy, Women’s Fiction, Memoir . . . well, you get the picture.  Again, you have to HAVE a story to tell. One that has meaning.  One that ties into a larger theme.  I was the book editor for a wonderful family memoir called In the Boat with LBJ.  John Bullion had a story to tell.  But rest assured—this WAS a family memoir.  He just tied it into a much larger story of Lyndon Johnson’s rise to and fall from power.  And the writing is spectacular.  And the characters jump off the pages.  And the book has done quite well. 

 So, if you aspire to write your memoirs, and believe they will enrich mankind, by all means—do so.  But find the theme.  Focus sharply upon that.  Hone your writing skills so the prose sings.  And learn to create vivid characters.  Develop the book into something real. 

Sounds suspiciously like all the good writing of which I know, which is, of course, Rocket Science! 

Breaking The Rules

by Susan Mary Malone

Rules abound in the writing world (I’d say the “literary” one, but publishing these days has precious little to do with anything actually literary). Rules, however, govern the craft, to the chagrin of novice writers. “I just want to write,” and, “The rules take away my creativity,” or, “But so and so book author does this all the time!” And on and on. Writers give as many reasons for not learning writing’s rules, as there are rules to begin with.

But they exist for a reason. And that reason is truly not to satisfy grammar and composition teachers, but to help the writer get the most from her word buck, and to give the reader the very best reading experience possible—a clear and clean and well-written book allows him to zip through the action segments, heart pounding, puzzle over the mysteries, mind clicking, and ponder those parts that the author intended. In short, writing is all about communication, whether we’re talking fiction or non. You, as the author, are trying to convey something to your reader. This runs the gamut from how to make a better guacamole dip to solving the perfect murder to contemplating/understanding the secrets of the Universe (or just one slice of it). And the way in which you write your book, the rules you use, the ones you break, all add up to whether the whole package works. I.e., getting your intent across in the manner that best facilities this book.

And that’s the point, no? The rules are there for your benefit, as the author, to use at your discretion to fashion the best possible read for your audience. Period. And conversely, the ones you break can make your book.

First off, however, you must know the rules. So, you study and learn, understand and use them. Once you’re familiar with them inside and out, then and only then can you begin to break rules effectively. And then, only for specific reasons. In other words, you must be able to justify to me (or another novel editor or agent) exactly why you broke this or that one, and what you sought to accomplish through it. Most manuscripts I see where the rules are broken, the writer doesn’t know he’s doing so. Plus, that excuse of: “Well, that famous author did this in his last book,” begs the question: did it work? Did the author achieve a special effect by doing so, and can you tell me what that was? Or was it just sloppy writing?

As an example, viewpoint shifts are rampant in new writers’ works. Ninety-nine percent of the time, these writers don’t understand viewpoint in the first place, and must learn to work in Point of View correctly, which takes a lot of study (and often a lot of screaming to boot!). And then I’ll recommend a book that breaks the rules effectively (and extremely) to give a broader understanding. Carlos Fuentes’ Gringo Viejo shifts viewpoints not only during scenes, not even just in paragraphs, but often within a single sentence. Told in stream-of-consciousness, the read is quite difficult. But it fits the subject matter perfectly—which too, is very ethereal and obtuse. On the outside, the story is action/adventure, which one would think should lend itself to straightforward telling. In actuality, however, the themes are much deeper, much more complex, and speak to the human psyche—which is, in itself, a rather difficult read. Rest assured, however, Fuentes, a master at novel development, knew he was breaking the rules, why he was doing so, and I’d wager was quite happy with his results.

So, the point here is that as a storyteller, your job is to use what works. That’s the bottom line, and the only thing that truly matters. In order to use what works, however, you must thoroughly understand why one is correct and what it brings to your story, why another is an infraction and what it takes away from your book, and then come to fully grasp the nuances underlying each. Only then do broken rules work.

How do you know if to break or not break a rule is effective? You know. That’s the paradox of this sort of creation. Once you’ve put in the blood, sweat, and tears to really learn your craft, that other side of the brain kicks in and you “feel” your path, having an internal sense of the right one. Esoteric, yes. But then, this is a creative endeavor, no?

Writing well is a long, long process. There is so incredibly much to learn. As I say all the time: Writing really IS rocket science.

BREAKING THE RULES

Normal 0

Rules abound in the writing world (I’d say the “literary” one, but publishing these days has precious little to do with anything actually literary).  Rules, however, govern the craft, to the chagrin of novice writers.  “I just want to write,” and, “The rules take away my creativity,” or, “But so and so book author does this all the time!”  And on and on.  Writers give as many reasons for not learning writing’s rules, as there are rules to begin with. 

 But they exist for a reason. And that reason is truly not to satisfy grammar and composition teachers, but to help the writer get the most from her word buck, and to give the reader the very best reading experience possible—a clear and clean and well-written book allows him to zip through the action segments, heart pounding, puzzle over the mysteries, mind clicking, and ponder those parts that the author intended.  In short, writing is all about communication, whether we’re talking fiction or non.  You, as the author, are trying to convey something to your reader.  This runs the gamut from how to make a better guacamole dip to solving the perfect murder to contemplating/understanding the secrets of the Universe (or just one slice of it).  And the way in which you write your book, the rules you use, the ones you break, all add up to whether the whole package works.  I.e., getting your intent across in the manner that best facilities this book. 

 And that’s the point, no?  The rules are there for your benefit, as the author, to use at your discretion to fashion the best possible read for your audience.  Period.  And conversely, the ones you break can make your book.

 First off, however, you must know the rules.  So, you study and learn, understand and use them. Once you’re familiar with them inside and out, then and only then can you begin to break rules effectively.  And then, only for specific reasons.  In other words, you must be able to justify to me (or another novel editor or agent) exactly why you broke this or that one, and what you sought to accomplish through it.  Most manuscripts I see where the rules are broken, the writer doesn’t know he’s doing so.  Plus, that excuse of: “Well, that famous author did this in his last book,” begs the question: did it work?  Did the author achieve a special effect by doing so, and can you tell me what that was?  Or was it just sloppy writing? 

As an example, viewpoint shifts are rampant in new writers’ works.  Ninety-nine percent of the time, these writers don’t understand viewpoint in the first place, and must learn to work in Point of View correctly, which takes a lot of study (and often a lot of screaming to boot!).  And then I’ll recommend a book that breaks the rules effectively (and extremely) to give a broader understanding.  Carlos Fuentes’ Gringo Viejo shifts viewpoints not only during scenes, not even just in paragraphs, but often within a single sentence.  Told in stream-of-consciousness, the read is quite difficult.  But it fits the subject matter perfectly—which too, is very ethereal and obtuse.  On the outside, the story is action/adventure, which one would think should lend itself to straightforward telling. In actuality, however, the themes are much deeper, much more complex, and speak to the human psyche—which is, in itself, a rather difficult read.  Rest assured, however, Fuentes, a master at novel development, knew he was breaking the rules, why he was doing so, and I’d wager was quite happy with his results. 

 So, the point here is that as a storyteller, your job is to use what works.  That’s the bottom line, and the only thing that truly matters.  In order to use what works, however, you must thoroughly understand why one is correct and what it brings to your story, why another is an infraction and what it takes away from your book, and then come to fully grasp the nuances underlying each.  Only then do broken rules work. 

How do you know if to break or not break a rule is effective?  You know.  That’s the paradox of this sort of creation.  Once you’ve put in the blood, sweat, and tears to really learn your craft, that other side of the brain kicks in and you “feel” your path, having an internal sense of the right one.  Esoteric, yes.  But then, this is a creative endeavor, no? 

Writing well is a long, long process.  There is so incredibly much to learn.  As I say all the time: Writing really IS rocket science.