Some thoughts on writing and getting published. I've had to work so hard at it, maybe my thoughts, based on years of trying, might be of help to others. During 2011, I'll post a topic each month.
JANUARY 2011
I'll start with the big question - can fiction writing be taught?
Some writers find success easily, perhaps with their first completed novel. Others struggle for years, and never achieve much at all. Does this mean that writing can't be taught? Is it all to do with innate talent - either you know how to tell a story, or you don't? And if you fall in the latter group, no amount of hard work will make any difference. You'll never be able to write a novel of publishable quality.
I believe the answer to be different.
Writing can be learned. Like with any skill, practice will hone the underlying talent, and guidance from someone more experienced could help the aspiring novelist to identify their weaknesses and build on their strengths. But I don't think it is possible to learn writing from a guidebook that uses a one-size-fits-all set of instructions to define "Good Writing".
Why do I think so?
I've spent years reading books on how to write and edit, and decades reading novels in many different genres. Successful books don't all use the same style and approach. A guidebook of "good writing" leads the aspiring novelist to assume they must write in a particular way, which can be at odds with their natural style, and poorly suited to the story they are trying to tell.
Further, there seems to be an enormous disparity between what many editorial guides describe as "Good Writing", and how published novelists tell their stories. It almost feels as if the struggling hopefuls are told to turn left at every junction, but when you read bestsellers, some of them turn right, some go straight on, and some meander all over the road.
This month, I'll pick the following three writing "rules", and dicuss why I believe they may not be particularly helpful to the aspiring novelist:
1. Show, don't tell
2. Avoid backstory in the first chapter
3. Strive for active voice
I'll use examples from a few books I've selected at random from my bookcase. I hope to demonstrate that although these pieces of advice might make sense in certain contexts, blind adherence to them will severely limit the author's toolkit. Following these rules too rigidly is unlikely to improve your writing, or increase your chances of publication.
The books I picked out are all popular commercial novels.
Later in the text, I'll use the author initials to refer to each book:
Danielle Steel: Kaleidoscope (DS)
James Patterson: Cradle and All (JP)
Linda Howard: White Lies (LH)
Dan Brown: The Da Vinci Code (DB)
All four are highly successful, respected authors, with several bestsellers.
So, do they follow the editorial advice given to aspiring novelists?
1. Show, don't tell.
Aspiring authors are told that this is the most important Rule of Good Writing. The problem is that show-don't-tell means different things to different people. There are lots of articles on the internet analysing and explaining this popular piece of wisdom.
I'll give you a few examples:
Tell: She smiled.
Show: Her lips curved.
Tell: She was angry / Anger surged through her.
Show: She slammed her fist against the table and screamed she wanted to kill him.
Tell: It was a beautiful day.
Show: The sun shone from a clear blue sky and spring scents drifted in the breeze.
Tell: She was an untidy person.
Show: Clothes littered the floor and a broken tube of scarlet lipstick smeared the carpet.
For some people, any exposition (giving information to the reader) is telling, and this information should be disguised as dialogue between two characters, or as internal monologue (introspection) of a character.
For some, telling is to write sentences that describe a character, for example:
He had always been a compulsive liar.
Instead, you ought to show this by demonstrating instances where the character lies.
For some, almost all narrative prose is telling, and only dialogue is showing.
The problem with showing is that it can use up a lot of words, and still leave the reader unsure of what the writer is trying to convey.
For example, a story might feature an unreliable character. He makes arrangements, and then lets people down. To demonstrate this merely by showing will require several incidents to convey a pattern of behaviour. Telling can be a lot more efficient. I've noticed that many successful writers tell once, briefly, and then switch to showing. The reader is made aware of a character trait by telling, and then interprets the action correctly when it is shown in later chapters.
A few examples of telling, from the first few pages of each book:
LH
It wasn't that she hadn't been successful, she had.
She was furious, with no way to express it.
She was totally dumbfounded.
DB
The curator's true identity, along with the identities of his three senechaux, was almost as secret as the ancient sect they protected.
JP
She was too preppy, maybe too pretty.
DS
Eileen always lied, lied about everything…
My conclusion:
Although showing is often better than telling, it can be extremely difficult to convey certain things without telling. Sometimes the best way to give technical information is by telling. Sometimes it would take too long to show certain character traits, and sometimes telling is the most efficient way to make the point, as the above examples by our four successful writers demonstrate.
If aspiring novelists are too concerned to avoid telling, they risk being unable to convey critical information, and they may spend too long on conveying character traits or emotional reactions, at the cost of pace.
2. Avoid backstory in the first chapter.
I've heard this advice from editors and agents, as well as authors. What I've heard from readers, though, is different. They say:
I find it hard to relate to the hero / heroine in the opening scene because I don't know anything about him / her.
Based on studying hundreds of opening scenes (Fictionwise is a great resource for this, as you can often read an opening excerpt without buying the book), I'd say that many bestselling authors do the exact opposite. They use the opening scene to give some background on the characters, so that the reader can relate to them.
The key is to keep the backstory relevant, rather than go off on tangents, or give a rambling biography for the character and / or their mother, father, and five siblings.
Examples of backstory from the first few pages of our sample novels:
DS: He was twenty-one years old and he had never been in Europe before the war…he was twenty-one years old, and when the Japanese struck Pearl Harbor he had been at Harvard….he was a "townie" from Somerville, and all his life he had dreamed of going to Harvard.
Etc, etc - nearly all of the early pages are backstory on the hero.
LH: For five years, she had dedicated herself to her job, ruthlessly stifling those parts of her personality that didn't fit the image.
Etc, etc. A substantial part of the opening pages are backstory on the heroine and her ex-husband.
Backstory seems particularly common in romances, where the reader needs to bond with the characters early on. It is less frequent in thrillers, and hence in JP and DB there is little backstory in the opening scene.
3. Strive for active voice.
This is a particularly irritating piece of advice.
Active voice means different things to different people.
For some people, it is pure grammar:
Passive: A book was handed to her.
Active: Someone handed her a book.
For some, passive voice means a gerund (a verb ending with -ing):
Passive: She was running.
Active: She ran.
For some, passive means a stationary description:
Passive: She had red hair and her eyes were green.
Active: Her red hair blew in the wind and her green eyes sparkled with joy.
Some people associate passive voice with how you describe emotions.
Passive: She felt angry / He was furious.
Active: Anger surged through her / Fury burned like a flame in his gut.
The advice to avoid passive voice is sometimes accompanied with practical instructions, such as going through your entire manuscript and highlighting every WAS and FELT and HAD, in order to try and edit out as many of them as you can.
The verb WAS is particularly frowned upon in expressions such as:
There was a yellow plastic duck in the kitchen sink.
It was early on Monday morning that I decided to strangle my boss.
I could give a hundred examples of passive voice from each of our sample books, but as there are limits on the number of words I can quote without breaching copyright, I'll select just a few from the opening chapter of each book.
LH:
She was furious
She was totally dumbfounded
She was amazed
Jay felt shaken
DB
He was broad and tall…
His irises were pink…
The curator felt a surge of adrenaline…the curator felt a searing heat
It was framed by…
DS (all from the first page)
The rains were torrential…
He was twenty-one years old
It was a hell of a way to see the world
His hands were so numb
It was the worst winter
JP (all from the first page)
Birds were perched
…side street that was…
…she was here …
…it was so frozen…
She had on a fatigue jacket…
It was a distraction…
This is so spooky…
My conclusion:
This piece of advice is nonsense. WAS is one of the most common words in the English language. Trying to write a novel without using it results in all sort of cumbersome expressions that don't make easy reading.
With grammatical passive, sometimes the object (what is being handed to someone) is more important than the subject (the person doing the handing). Hence, a passive sentence is sometimes the most appropriate to convey the meaning.
At three minutes past four, the lethal injection was administered to Jane Ripper.
With gerunds, they indicate a continuous action, which hasn't finished. Often this is necessary to properly convey the situation.
She was rushing across the road in her high heels when the red sports car hit her.
With descriptions of appearance or location or emotion, in a fast paced scene anything but the short and snappy "was/felt/had" might interrupt the flow, particularly if the physical feature or emotion is difficult to convey by showing.
Janice was impressed.
His green eyes had a dark border around the iris.
The temperature inside the chamber was a lethal minus 248 degrees (I just made this up so please don't tell me it's impossible for a room to be this cold. Which reminds me of another topic - how deep to research? I'll save that for another day.)
A few years ago, I took a sample of several books (not the same ones I've used here), both commercial and literary, UK and US. On average each book used WAS (just WAS, excluding other forms of the verb TO BE) on average 4-6 times per page. Less with dialogue passages, more with narrative prose.
It is important to avoid flat, uninspired writing. Too many static descriptions can sound dull, but trying to eliminate all WAS or FELT or HAD will risk even worse. So, use this technique with extreme caution.
Writing is a difficult subject to teach because there isn't just one right way to tell a story. The best way to improve is to identify your own narrative voice and then make it sound as vivid and clear as you can. If you try to copy someone else's style, or obey some set of universal rules, you risk stifling your creativity. Not only will you limit your chances of success, but you'll ruin the pleasure of writing.
And if you no longer enjoy writing, your future as a writer becomes bleak.
I hope you found this article helpful. I promise to post more each month in 2011. No definite list yet, but I have some idea of topics I'd like to cover:
Point of view
Dialogue tags and action tags
Unappealing heroines
Formulaic romance plots
Openings
Description
Dull and repeated words
Cliches
Tight writing
Let me know if there is anything else you'd like to add.
All the best to all aspiring novelists,
Tatiana
FEBRUARY 2011
As my topic this month, I'm going to discuss dialogue tags and action tags, as some of the books I've read this month offer excellent examples of how some successful writers use them.
Most writing guides tell the aspiring novelist to use dialogue tags sparingly. The main purpose of a dialogue tag (he said, she said) is to identify who is talking. Often, only occasional dialogue tags are needed, in particular when the conversation takes place between two people - you normally know who has said what.
Writing guides nearly always tell us to use the dialogue tag "said", sometimes "asked" or "replied" or "told". Anything different is considered poor style that calls attention to the writing mechanics and interrupts the flow of narrative.
We are told to avoid Bad Dialogue Tags, and Very Bad Dialogue Tags.
Bad Dialogue Tags come in three guises:
1. Modifying the basic "said" to identify the manner of speaking:
Said in amazement, said sharply, said gently, said angrily, etc.
2. Describing the manner of speaking:
Whispered, roared, shouted, groaned, murmured, muttered, hissed, snapped, etc.
3. Identifying the purpose of speaking:
Offered, protested, instructed, agreed, conceded, etc.
Very Bad Dialogue Tags come in two shapes:
1. Combination of any two above:
Whispered angrily, shouted in anger, instructed smugly.
2. Tags which are incapable of producing speech and are really abstract sounds or facial expressions.
Smiled, breathed, laughed, frowned, snorted, chuckled, etc.
The aspiring novelist is further advised that breaking up dialogue with action to show what the characters are doing is a good way of eliminating dialogue tags, but action tags should be used sparingly. Too much physical activity by the characters clutters up the dialogue and is distracting. We are told that good dialogue should stand alone, and if ours doesn't, we need to strengthen it until it does.
So, how do published novelists do it?
I'm using the following three examples:
Elizabeth Chadwick: Shadows and Strongholds
Diana Gabaldon: Outlander
Tami Hoag: Dark
I read the first two this month, and loved the writing. But, as they are both historical, I added a third book, a randomly selected contemporary thriller from my to-be-read list. All three authors are bestselling, respected, award winning, loved and admired by readers around the world.
EC
In Chapter 1, in addition to said and replied and asked, sometimes combined with an adverb (said neutrally, said brusquely, said coldly), the dialogue tags include hissed, snapped, snarled, qualified, intervened, jeered, sneered, nodded, grinned, contradicted, croaked, shouted, gulped, added, commanded, muttered.
Throughout the book, dialogue is surrounded by a combination of dialogue tags and action and internal thought. Often, there are three or four dialogue tags / actions / internal thoughts in one paragraph of dialogue. An example below:
FitzWarin turned to Brunin. "Would you know the youths again?" he demanded and clamped his jaw as he saw the terror in his son's eyes. 'Would you?" He heard his voice rising, but could do nothing to prevent it.
DG
In the first half of Chapter 1, in addition to said and replied and asked, often with an adverb or other modifier (said in awful tones, said absently, said dryly) , the dialogue tags include lied, agreed, admonished, suggested, interrupted, muttered, observed, demanded, explained, added, confided, interjected.
Again, much of the dialogue is interspaced with multiple tags and actions and internal thought. For example:
He stood, brushing grass-ends from his trousers. "That's all you know, my girl," he said. "There's no place on earth with more of the old superstitions and magic mixed to its daily life than the Scottish Highlands. Church or nor church, Mrs Baird believes in the Old Folk, and so do all the neighbours." He pointed at a stain with one neatly polished toe. "The blood of a black cock," he explained, looking pleased. "The houses are new, you see. Pre-fabs."
TH
In Chapter 1, in addition to said and replied and asked, often with an adverb (said sardonically, asked softly, said brutally) , the dialogue tags include declared, muttered, called, blurted out, drawled, ordered, managed to shout, murmured, snapped, demanded, declared, mumbled, whispered, screamed. Many of these are combined with an adverb (ordered sharply, declared bluntly, mumbled stupidly).
The dialogue is more succinct, with action blocked into separate paragraphs rather than interwoven. For example:
"But you were her friend -"
"No, ma'am".
He moved toward her slowly, his expression dark and intense. He came too close. Close enough that she had to tilt her head back to look at him.
"We had sex," he said bluntly, his voice low and rough. "Friendship never entered into it."
So...what should the aspiring novelist do?
Should we mostly use the dialogue tag "said", or vary the dialogue tags, and mix action and internal thought and description into the dialogue?
In my view, it depends on the story. Some stories are better told by focusing on what the characters are saying, some stories benefit from a richer expression of feeling and movement and the surrounding environment as the characters interact.
It is easy for a beginner to sound clumsy by using too many ornate dialogue tags:
She cried forlornly...he demanded harshly...she screamed in anger...
However, in the hands of a skilled novelist, like those of our three examples, the variety of dialogue tags, and mixing dialogue with action and internal thought and emotion, results in a rich narrative that pulls the reader into the world of the characters.
My recommendation for the aspiring novelist is to write your first draft by instinct - do what comes naturally, following your own narrative voice. When editing, pay attention to the dialogue tags and action tags. Are there too many? Are they too ornate? Do they distract from the flow of reading? Try replacing the different dialogue tags with "said", and only go with something else if you believe it strengthens the prose. If in doubt, "said" or "asked" or "replied" or "told" is a safe option.
With action tags, experiment with different blocking. Do you like mixing dialogue with action and emotion into longer paragraphs? Or would your story benefit from the sense of pace given by shorter bursts of dialogue, with less interruption from action and internal thought?
The difficulty with the Rules of Good Writing is that the novice writer lacks the experience to know when to ignore them. Strict adherence to the advice to limit dialogue and action tags can result in dull prose, where the characters talk endlessly to each other, with little sense of time and place, or what goes on in the characters' minds.
Good luck in making your dialogue sparkle.
Tatiana
MARCH 2011
My March topic is Description - how much is too much?
Over the years, I've come across a number of Writing Rules for description, some of them contradictory.
· When introducing a new location or character, the reader needs to be given enough description to picture the character or location.
· All description slows down the pace and should be minimised.
· Too detailed description leaves nothing for the readers' imagination.
· Description should be given gradually and woven into the narrative. Don't pause in the story to describe a character or location, and then jump back into the story.
· Description should not just be visual, but incorporate all senses - sounds, smells, textures, and flavours as well as sights.
· Description should be in active voice (see January article about passive and active voice).
How do successful authors use description? I'll use two examples. The first is a historical novel, the second a contemporary romance.
1. Elizabeth Chadwick: Shadows and Strongholds.
2. Jude Deveraux: Lavender Morning
EC
Description is given in full paragraphs, as well as woven into the dialogue and narrative. Much of the description is in active voice, and incorporates all senses. Detailed description is given for locations and characters, and description of physical reactions and facial expressions are used to convey emotion. The reader is immersed in a world full of sights and sounds and smells and period detail.
Example. The opening paragraphs of a chapter chosen at random (Chapter Five):
Brunin had never been to Ludlow and, although he was accustomed to the sight of stout castles such as the one at Shrewsbury, nothing had prepared him for the imposing proportions of the stone walls rising out of the smoky autumn mist.
The fortress stood on a ridge with steep slopes descending to the river below. Where the river did not guard, a deep, dry ditch had been cut, spanned by a timber bridge leading to a passage through a heavily defended gatehouse.
More sentences with descriptive elements from the next one and a half pages:
...eyes alight with pride...
He was relaxed in the saddle...
The knights had ridden in close formation with shields at the ready and hands never far from their scabbards.
He grimaced sweatily at the mail shirt encasing his body from throat to knee.
Brunin thought that Lord Joscelin looked rather splendid in his hauberk...
They rode over the timber bridge spanning the bridge. Brunin listened to Morel's hooves beat on the wood...
To the right, were the timber dwellings of the guards' quarters, the laundry and sundry storage buildings. Straddling the thatched roof of one of them was a girl about Brunin's own age. Much of her curly, dark-red hair had straggled loose from its braid and coiled around her dirty, tear-streaked face in eldritch tangles. A rip in the side seam of her dress exposed her chemise and an orchard ladder was skewed at the foot of the shed as if it had been climbed and then fallen awry.
Beneath the grime, her complexion flushed campion-pink.
JD
Description is primarily factual information, with little emotion. Most of the description is visual, and given in passive voice.
I've picked out a few examples, trying to match the EC example of the protagonist arriving to a new home, and hero and heroine seeing each other for the first time.
There was the usual store full of old furniture and some other businesses. And in the middle, on a big, grassy circle, was an enormous tree. There were half a dozen benches under its shade and two teenagers were kissing, while some younger kids were laughing at them. The last two houses before the road disappeared into overhanging trees were the ones in the photos on the internet. They were big, white, and looked inviting. In front of one a woman was sweeping a porch...
He had on jeans and a dirty T-shirt, and he hadn't shaved in days, but these things didn't detract from his beauty. He had dark green eyes above a nose that could only be described as patrician, and his full lips were finely chiselled above a well formed chin.
It was beautiful where they were. Overhanging trees closed them in, and she could hear running water in the distance.
The downstairs of the house was mostly one open room, with living, breakfast, and kitchen all in one area. To the side was a dining room that had been turned into a TV-library. Across the front was a glassed-in porch with wicker furniture, and it looked like the place that got the most use.
She had on jeans and a T-shirt and looked too young to have grey hair.
At the end of the hall was a window, with a door next to it.
So, based on these two examples, description can be used in different ways.
· Some authors employ rich description of the environment, and historical novels offer additional scope to include period detail.
· Some authors introduce characters when they first appear, and then make relatively few references to their physical traits. Some like to incorporate frequent reminders of the characters' physical appearance (particularly the aspects that make the hero attractive).
· Some like to convey emotion through describing physical reactions and facial expressions, and other writers prefer to leave emotional reactions to the readers' imagination.
· Some writers incorporate sounds and smells and flavours, and some mostly describe the visual.
· Some use active style, and some tell us how things are, with "was" as the dominant verb.
There is no right and wrong. Aspiring novelists should establish their own preference, based on their natural voice and the genre they're writing in.
On the whole, while analyzing books with this article in mind, I was surprised by how many successful authors use passive voice in their descriptions. Also, it seems common to interrupt the action to give a detailed description of a new setting or character, and then smoothly resume the narrative.
A few examples of paragraphs of description in passive voice (with lots of "was" or "had"):
Tami Hoag - Dark
Grusin chuckled. He was a big man with skinny legs and a thick chest and belly that made him look as if he were wearing an umpire's padding beneath his shirt. He had the hair and freckles his name indicated. His cheeks and the end of his bulbous nose were perpetually pink.
Lisa Kleypas - Worth Any Price (RITA winner):
Mrs. Bradshaw was a tall, wonderfully proportioned woman. Her pale skin was lightly dotted with amber freckles, and her auburn hair was pinned up in loose curls. She was not beautiful in any conventional sense-her face was too angular, and her nose was large. However, she was stylish and impeccably groomed, and there was something so appealing about her that beauty seemed entirely superfluous.
Jayne Ann Krentz - Sizzle and Burn:
The Mr' Jones standing in front of her was tall. Even with her boots she was a couple of inches shorter than him. He was lean and virile, a man who was centered and comfortable in his body and masculinity, a man in full control of himself. His hair was short and dark and his eyes were a shade of blue that made her think of glaciers and gunmetal. He wore a black leather jacket, black crewneck pullower, dark pants and low boots.
My conclusion on description is that, like so much in writing, it is about discovering the style that suits you, and then trying to do it as well as you can.
I've decided that I like a lot of description, and a mix of active and passive voice. I prefer to give a fairly detailed description of new places and characters at first meeting. I've decided against trickling the description in slowly, as that allows the reader to make a guess, and then, if I describe the characters or places differently, the reader may feel confused, even annoyed.
I try to bring in all senses, and I like to give frequent reminders of the characters' appearance and surroundings as the story unfolds. I'm not very good at showing emotion through reactions and facial expressions, but I'm working on it.
Although my writing preference is for rich and detailed description, I also enjoy reading novels with minimal description. I do like to have the heroes described, though. Here is a nice one I stumbled upon recently, from Ellen O'Connell's historical western Eyes of Silver, Eyes of Gold.
Her mind filled in the features she could not distinguish in the shadows. Under the hat his hair was thick, black, and probably almost touched his collar. The bronze face was all angles and planes, honed to the point of gauntness, with well-arched eyebrows and cheekbones so high they gave the eyes some of their narrowed look. The square jaw and firm-lipped mouth completed a face that was not merely strong, but fierce.
Now, that is a hero I'd like to fall in love with - and certainly did when I read the book.
All the best,
Tatiana
From her study, where a radiator scorches her left elbow and the yelling of workmen outside drives her mad, and the smell of coffee from downstairs lures her to take a break from writing.
APRIL 2011
Time and time again, the vital importance of the opening sentence is impressed upon us. We must start in a manner which compels the reader to read on. Often, the advice is to start with an intriguing event that creates a need to know more.
Examples of a gripping first sentence given in writing guides might be along the following lines (these are made up examples, not taken from any particular writing guide):
It was four o'clock on Christmas Day when Quentin Lennox realised that the woman following him through Highgate cemetery was trying to kill him...
Standing naked in the bathroom, I heard a gunshot and a loud crash on the landing outside my apartment...
If
Is it really essential for aspiring authors to start their stories with high intrigue openings? How do bestselling authors do it? How do they hook the reader in the first sentence, or at least by the end of the opening page?
Well...I'm not sure that they necessarily do…
I read several books every week, have done most of my life, and it is very, very rare that I'm hooked by the end of the first page. In fact, I think it has only ever happened once. I may stop reading if I dislike the writing style, or find some aspect of the content objectionable, such as an unappealing key character, or an event totally lacking in credibility.
Mostly, I keep reading with mild interest, and find that usually I'm absorbed into the story by around page twenty. The book may still go downhill from there, and I may find myself unable to finish, but at that point I'm usually clear in my mind if the novel will contain the ingredients of a story I'll be interested in reading.
Let's look at a few sample openings. The first two are by Linda Howard, one of my favourite romance authors. Her writing style is one I particularly enjoy.
Linda Howard - Sarah's Child:
It was the end of a long week, and Sarah knew that she should go home, but just the thought of facing the broiling late August heat was enough to keep her sitting in her chair with the air-conditioning humming pleasantly overhead. She wasn't working; she'd swiveled the chair around and spent the last fifteen minutes simply staring out the window, too relaxed to really care that it was getting late. The sun had dipped low enough that the
Linda Howard - Come Lie with Me:
The ocean had a hypnotic effect. Dione gave in to it without a struggle, peacefully watching the turquoise waves roll onto the blindingly white sand. She wasn't an idle person, yet she was content to sit on the deck of her rented beach house, her long, honey-tanned legs stretched out and propped on the railing, doing nothing more than watching the waves and listening to the muted roar of water coming in and going out. The white gulls swooped in and out of her vision, their high-pitched cries adding to the symphony of wind and water. To her right, the huge golden orb of the sun was sinking into the water, turning the sea to flame. It would have made a stunning photograph, yet she was disinclined to leave her seat and get her camera.
These two openings are not about action or high impact situations at all. They take us into the mind of the heroine, telling us a little about her, the setting in which she finds herself at that precise moment, and her mood.
A couple of other examples:
Charlotte Featherstone - Sinful:
With a jaded outlook and a black heart, Matthew, Earl of
This opening introduces a character in an abstract sense, not putting him into any specific situation.
Lisa Kleypas - Seduce Me at
Win had always thought Kev Merripen was beautiful, in the way that an austere landscape or a wintry day could be beautiful. He was a large, striking man, uncompromising in every angle. The exotic boldness of his features was a perfect setting for eyes so dark that the irises were barely distinguishable from the pupil. His hair was thick and as black as a raven's wing, his brows strong and straight. And his wide mouth was set with a perpetually brooding curve that Win found irresistible.
Again, the opening introduces a character. In the next few paragraphs, we find out that Win is going away and has to say goodbye to Merripen.
The next two examples are not from romance novels but thrillers with a strong romantic element.
Lionel Davidson -
At ten to nine on a June morning, a shining and brilliant morning that promised a day of great heat, a lady of sixty-three cycled through the streets of
She cycled slowly, corpulent and majestic as some former Queen of the
We have a character in a situation, an elderly lady cycling to work. Interestingly, she is nothing to do with the main story. In the next two pages, she gets to work, opens a letter addressed to her boss, hands it over, and it is this letter that triggers the events of the story.
David Baldacci - Saving Faith
The somber group of men sat in a large room that rested far belowground, accessed by only a single, high-speed elevator. The chamber had been secretly built during the early 1960s under the guise of renovating the private building that squatted over it. The original plan, of course, was to use this "super-bunker" as a refuge during a nuclear attack. This facility was not for the top leaders of American government; it was for those whose level of relative "unimportance" dictated that they probably wouldn't be able to get out in time but who still rated protection afforded no ordinary citizen. Politically, even in the context of total destruction, there must be order.
We start with a description of a building. It goes on for another full page. Then we are told about the men in the room and why they are there - to make a decision to kill the heroine.
So, is there anything we can conclude from these successful openings?
My instinct, based on these examples, is that action or a high impact situation isn't necessarily the best way to draw a reader into a story. Many successful authors start by introducing the reader to something - sometimes it's a location, or a past event, but usually a character or characters.
Most stories are about people. Getting to know one of them is a good place to start.
But one aspect of these openings strikes me more than anything else: there is a lot of telling going on...which brings me back to the January article about showing and telling. An aspiring novelist who has developed a fear of "telling" faces severe limitations on how to start their stories, as they would feel compelled to avoid the type of openings that have worked so well for the successful novelists of our examples.
Too strict avoiding of "telling" makes it harder to tell a story, and novel writing is all about telling stories.
Good writing!
Tatiana
MAY 2011
My topic for this month is UNAPPEALING HEROINES.
I'm a member of a critique group for romantic novelists. As we review each other's work, quite often someone comments that they don't find the heroine sympathetic enough to want to root for her. It's rare to have similar comments about the hero.
Why is it so much harder to write an appealing heroine? Is it because we - female writers - base our heroes on the kind of men we dream about, but inject more realism into our heroines, writing them as we are, flawed and incomplete.
Or, are we more forgiving towards the male characters in our stories? We write them bitter and brooding, proud and arrogant, promiscuous and predatory, and yet we are prepared to fall in love with them. I doubt we'd be equally willing to cheer for a heroine with the same character flaws.
Usually, women are tougher on women than they are on men. It starts early - recent research shows that mothers are more lenient and forgiving towards their sons than their daughters. Misbehaving boys are called "cheeky". Misbehaving girls are called "stroppy". On average, sons are given more treats than daughters.
I remember once watching a friend's children playing at a garden party. He scolded his daughter for unruly behavior, but when his young sons tore about creating a nuisance, he gave a good natured chuckle and told us "boys will be boys".
So, maybe the fact that readers can find it hard to sympathize with flawed female characters is because the society as a whole expects higher standards of behavior from women than from men, in fiction as well as in real life.
In my recent reading, there have been several instances where I haven't finished the book because I disliked the heroine, or found her behavior unacceptable.
Often, an unpleasant heroine is a by-product of the high emotional conflict expected in romantic novels. The hero and heroine must be at loggerheads, mistrusting or even hating each other. But because the hero must be someone the heroine eventually falls in love with, he can't be too much of a villain. So, it befalls on the heroine to maintain the conflict by being nasty to the hero.
I could come up with a long list of books where the heroine verbally attacks the hero for some imaginary slight. I hate you, she'll scream at him. Why have you dragged me into this godforsaken wilderness / smelly boat / primitive cabin? Why did you stop me from walking down the path / letting my dog run free / parking my car where I wanted to park? The heroine doesn't seem to care that the hero did it to save her life / to keep her from falling into a ditch / to keep her dog from maiming a child / to stop her from breaking the law. She just wants to tear into him, because she can't stand his smug handsomeness / silent brooding / annoying male competence.
So, in this scenario we have the conflict we need for the romantic plot, but at the cost of the heroine behaving in an unreasonable manner. In the real world, if a man we hardly know does or says something we don't like, we might smirk at him, but our reaction would be likely to walk away and bitch about the incident to our friends. A normal person certainly wouldn't ball her hands into fists at her sides, glare at the man, and let insults fly. And if she did, it would make her look like an idiot, not like someone to instantly fall in love with. But that's what romance heroines often do - behave like idiots, overreacting to innocent acts of male ignorance or superiority.
In the past month, there have been a few opening chapters that have made me close a book and add it to my did-not-finish pile. I'm not going to list the books here, just give you an idea of what about the heroine made me lose patience with her.
Book number one
In the opening scene, the heroine is in her backyard, burning a pile of expensive exercise equipment. She is doing this because her boyfriend of five years, whom she hoped to marry and have children with, has had a vasectomy and is unwilling to set a date for the wedding. He bought the exercise equipment for her, in the hope that she would lose weight, and she worked out like mad in the effort to please him.
But now she's had enough. So, she has dragged the treadmill and other equipment into her suburban backyard and is torching the lot. One of her friends is married to the fire chief, and our heroine has coerced her friend into making her husband promise that they won't respond if someone calls the fire brigade.
Has she lost her mind?
First of all, the jerk of a boyfriend didn't make her stay for five years. The heroine chose to do it, in the hope that he would marry her, and it was her choice to spend all those hours pounding on the treadmill.
Burning the stuff is an antisocial act. She could start a fire. What if one of the neighbor's kids has asthma and gets an attack from the smoke? And, willful destruction of expensive equipment is a selfish way to get rid of it. She could have made some poor kid happy by giving the stuff away.
And what about her friend, married to the fire chief? The heroine has put her in a difficult position by demanding that a high ranking city official neglects his job by failing to keep the community safe.
By the end of the opening scene, I was cheering for the boyfriend who was getting rid of the heroine. I certainly didn't want to read more about her.
Book number two
The heroine is employed as a nanny by the single parent hero, and in addition to looking after the child, she has gradually taken on the role of a housekeeper. The hero meets a new girlfriend and invites her to stay. The girlfriend asks the heroine to iron a jacket that has creased during the journey. The heroine smiles sweetly, takes the expensive garment, and on purpose burns a big hole in it.
She is being hailed as a gutsy girl who stood up to belittling demands by another woman who is trying to become the lady of the house.
To me, she was being a bitch. It wasn't unreasonable to assume that someone working as a housekeeper might be willing to iron a garment. If the heroine thought it wasn't part of her job, she could have used the same sweet smile and said "sorry, not part of my duties, but I'll show you where the iron and ironing board is".
What if the jacket had enormous sentimental value? It might have been the last present from a friend who died a week later. Our heroine intentionally ruined the garment, and gloated with pride over the deed.
I didn't want to read more about her.
Book number three
The heroine wakes up, covered in blood. A dead man is slumped over her, a knife stuck in his back. The hero comes along and finds the heroine, helps her wash off the blood, and then sets out to take the heroine to the police station.
The heroine refuses to go to the authorities. Why should she explain herself to anyone? She merely happened to wake up under the dead man, whom she'd only met the day before. She didn't kill him, and the murder has nothing to do with her. It never once crosses her mind that someone has just lost their life. Her sole concern is the disruption to her travel plans.
When it turns out that she's been framed and has to go on the run with the hero, the heroine complains that she wants to get back to the city, to her beauty parlors and massages, her job and her friends. Her biggest concern seems to be that the hero (who is engaged, the wedding only three weeks away) doesn't find her as attractive as she thinks that he should. She makes bitchy remarks about the hero's fiancée (whom she has never met) and is totally self absorbed. The fate of the dead man bothers her less than the state of her clothes. It doesn't help that she is useless with anything practical, such as cooking or cleaning.
I accept that if the plot is about a spoiled city woman, thrown together with a down-to-earth outdoor type, the heroine needs to start off snooty and spoiled, so that she can then grow and redeem herself. However, in this book, I wanted the heroine to be the next victim.
It's a tough task, writing an appealing heroine, and at the same time maintaining a high internal conflict, with the hero and heroine at war with each other, so that the initial dislike can gradually turn into love. Maybe that is why I particularly like romances where the conflict is external. The hero and heroine love each other, and it is the outside world that they have to fight to secure their happy future.
I've written a drunkard hero and a drunkard heroine. Nobody complained about the hero. Everybody said they didn't like the idea of the heroine having drunk enough to pass out.
I've written heroes who put duty before love, and heroines who did the same. The heroes were forgiven by the readers. The heroines were not.
Maybe women need to learn to be more forgiving to each other.
Forgiving flawed heroines in novels might be good practice for real life.
But I'm going to try to make my heroines nicer anyway.
Tatiana
JUNE 2011
This month's topic is point-of-view (POV).The usual guidance, particularly for romance, is to write in deep third person POV. This means that you see each scene through one person's eyes only. You don't refer to anything this person doesn't see or think or know. The actions of other people are described according to how the POV character perceives them.
POV can be switched between scenes, and sometimes during a scene, but any mid-scene changes should be done in a controlled manner, so that there is no risk of confusing the reader.
A common recommendation is to limit the POV characters in a story to two or three. The hero, the heroine, possibly the villain (if there is one).
Another "rule" is to avoid author POV altogether. This takes us back to "telling". Author voice means that you (the author) are intruding into the story that you should be telling strictly through the eyes of your characters, and this is a Very Bad Thing.
Author voice refers to passages NOT seen through the eyes of one character. This could be done in many different ways. For example, jumping out of the character's POV by describing something she doesn't see (such as her appearance) or something she doesn't know (such as future events or facts unknown to her) or by giving general background relating to the events (such as the biography of a character or information on how or why people have gathered to a particular place) or factual information (such as technical data relating to a plot aspect that needs to be understood by the reader).
A few simple examples:
Mary ran a hand through her blond shoulder length hair, her blue eyes narrowing as she struggled to suppress her anger.
We are in Mary's POV, but her physical traits are described from an external POV.
She left the room, unaware that he stared after her with longing in his eyes.
When she agreed to join the trip, she had no idea what trouble would ensue.
We are in a character's POV, but author POV is introduced by referring to something the POV character doesn't know (or couldn't know as it hasn't happened yet).
On Saturday John went sailing, Mary gave birth, and Janice got arrested for speeding, and none of them gave any thought to the others.
Once upon a time, in a faraway world, a sorcerer lived in an old castle.
People had gathered to the meeting from nearby towns, fighting traffic jams, leaving children in the care of nannies, or taking unauthorized time off from work.
Bob and John were itinerant workers who never settled in one place, always getting to arguments with the people they worked for, believing that the rich exploited the poor.
We are in author POV, giving information about the characters.
I could go on and on...there are a zillion different ways of introducing author POV (although the last two examples could be from a particular character's POV - but often passages written like this are not.
I've read a huge number of books over the years. And, possibly with the exception of some books written in the first person, I have NEVER yet read a book which contains no POV slips. Not a single one.
And, based on this large sample, I believe that hardly any published authors follow the deep third person POV rule rigidly. There are either large chunks, or small slips of POV, either intentional or unintentional. These slips are either between characters, or in and out of author POV.
A few examples:
Danielle Steel: Kaleidoscope
The opening scene is in the hero's POV, but when the dialogue gets going, POV hops around all the time.
"It's French." She had revived her French in college and was surprised to find…
We are in heroine's POV and in the next line we switch to the hero:
"How come you speak French?" He wanted to know everything about her…
And so it goes, flip-flop, from one person to the other, sometimes dipping into author POV in between.
Linda Howard: White Lies
The opening scene is all in the heroine's POV. Later, some scenes are in the hero's POV, but all changes are clean and well defined. However, there are small slips into author POV. For example:
She hurried to the door, her face still a picture of confusion.
She was looking down, so she didn't see the quick wariness in Payne's eyes.
Bobbi Smith: Renegade's Lady
Throughout the book, POV skips between the characters, including the minor ones, letting us know what each of them is thinking.
"What was that?" she demanded, her mood testy...
We are in the heroine's POV. In the next sentence, we are in the hero's POV
He looked up at her strangely, wondering where she could ever have gotten an idea like that.
Bobbi Smith also often uses author POV in love scenes, with the action being described collectively rather than from the hero or heroine's POV.
This example is from The Half Breed.
Their passion overpowered them, driving all thoughts of harsh reality from their minds. They only knew that they wanted each other as desperately as they needed to breathe, and they wouldn't stop until their hunger for one another had been sated.
It is important to note that the POV perceived by the reader may be different from what the writer intended. For all I know, in the above examples, the authors might feel differently about whose POV is being used, and other readers might disagree with me.
However, there are several bestselling authors who choose to write in what is called omniscient POV: they know what each character is thinking and seeing, and they convey this to the reader, using constant POV hopping from one mind to another, as well as author POV which may introduce information none of the characters know, or talk about the characters in a collective manner, being in several heads at the same time.
What do I think? Should the aspiring author adhere to the "keep clean POV rule" or ignore it?
I say, ignore it. Do whatever works best for the story. The reader really doesn't care, as long as the POV switches are not confusing or irritating or illogical.
Often, changing POV mid-scene will add depth, allowing the same situation to be seen from two different perspectives, giving the reader two sets of reactions. This can be particularly useful in romance, where the hero and the heroine may have a different understanding of what is going on between them.
Also, using multiple POV allows some scenes to be seen through the eyes of a minor character. This can be a useful tool to give a physical description of the main characters, or introduce complications the main characters will have to discover and deal with later.
Small slips into author POV are useful in allowing the author to insert bits of information that help to orient the reader inside the story. And big chunks of author POV can be used effectively to set up a situation, give factual information, or tell the history of a place or a character.
As long as the passages in author POV blend in, there is nothing wrong with using them.
In fact, it seems very common for opening scenes or the opening paragraphs of a new chapter to be in author POV. Then the characters arrive on the scene, and the narrative zooms in on a particular person and switches to their POV.
My conclusions:
Using author or omniscient POV, or multiple POV, or POV switches in the middle of a scene can be powerful tool. It's not helpful for an author to deprive herself of any tools that might help to effectively tell her story.
However, frequent POV switches (head-hopping) can be irritating and distracting to the reader. Unless you feel confident that the flipping from character to character strengthens the story, the safest option is to keep a relatively tight control on any POV changes.
Of course, it is possible to skirt around the POV question by writing in first person. This creates other limits, as you'll have to convey everything through the eyes of a single character, and deal with the fact that some readers dislike stories told in first person.
Tatiana
JULY 2011
This month's topic is research.
How critical is research when writing fiction?
The easy answer might be that if an author writes about a world she's familiar with, little research is needed. However, no author can write several novels without coming across at least some situations she has no expertise in.
When this happens, how important is it to get the facts right?
A few years ago I read a book set in the world of international business. The genre was romantic suspense, and the villain was trying to steal the formula for a pandemic flu vaccine, so he could make millions when people were desperate to be immunised against a lethal virus.
As a premise, the idea was flawed.
The formula for a flu vaccine is not a secret. The World Health Organisation identifies the flu virus that is causing the pandemic and makes the information public. Pharmaceutical companies then use their expertise to manufacture the vaccine. The problem is not getting hold of the formula, but having access to manufacturing capacity to produce the vaccine, and undertaking the clinical trials to secure the right to sell it.
Even assuming a crisis situation where government controls break down and the villain might be able to sell the unlicensed vaccine on the black market, the plot of this book could not happen. The lead time in setting up a manufacturing plant for producing a flu vaccine is such that the villain would have been in prison long before a single vial could be sold.
The lack of factual foundation to this story shook my faith in the standard of accuracy in fiction. Over the years, I've read thousands of novels depicting various fields - horse racing, police work, fine art, religious life, courtroom battles, historical events, political intrigue, and so forth. Could it be that other books I had read, and accepted as factually accurate, were equally lacking in substance?
What a horrible thought.
I firmly believe that an author owes the reader a duty of care. Anything that is portrayed as a fact should be as accurate as possible. I try to follow this in my own writing. My first historical (still unpublished) was about a New York heiress joining the Klondike Gold Rush to work as a nurse after her father refuses her permission to study medicine.
To research for this book, I did the following:
Was I able to derive anything I needed to write this book from my previous knowledge?
Not a lot.
I knew something about history and world events of late 19th century, Finnish history and culture in particular. I knew plenty about living in a cold climate, coping with sub-zero temperatures and snow and ice. I had a basic knowledge of women's struggle for emancipation, but enough to write about it. I was an experienced hiker, but I had never had to carry such vast loads as the prospectors had to haul on the Chilkoot Trail.
What was the hardest part about the research?
Two aspects were particularly difficult.
Firstly, finding out specific information I needed for a certain aspect of the plot. A good example is the dispensing of drugs in 1898. I spent more than forty hours on something that only contributed to a couple of paragraphs in the book. I trawled the Internet for days without finding the right information. In the end I found a website for a pharmacy museum and wrote to them, and they were able to answer my questions. Other similar technical piece of information was the cost and process for obtaining a mining licence and recording a claim. I found a few references, but nothing accurate enough to be certain of the facts, so in the end I had to make some educated guesses.
Secondly, I came across many instances of contradictory information. Horses in Alaska cost a fortune. Horses in Alaska were given away for next to nothing. It cost a dollar a kilo to haul goods up the Chilkoot Pass. It cost less than ten cents. In the end, I concluded that things changed rapidly in the goldfields, and presented the information accordingly.
Did I research too much?
I probably did. But I always find that research helps my creativity. Obscure bits of information generate ideas that help to make the story more interesting and give it an authentic feel.
When it comes to research, too much is better than too little.
Because we owe it to the readers.
I expect that most people underestimate the huge amount of research needed to make a novel factually accurate, a historical one in particular. The only way of avoiding research is sticking to what you know. Maybe that is why so many female authors write chick lit-it's mostly about life in the office and problems with boyfriends and gossiping with girlfriends and trying to lose weight / give up fags / cut down on drink.
Another answer could be writing paranormal or sci-fi...then you can just make it up.
Tatiana
AUGUST 2011
This month's topic is editing to eliminate any boring or repeated words that litter the early drafts.
Many aspiring writers spend endless hours polishing their prose, following the Guidelines for Good Writing. Here are some of the "rules" we learn as we struggle toward publication:
So, how critical is all this hard work of polishing?
Looking at published novels, it's not particularly important at all. A major frustration for the aspiring author is the expectation that her prose should be free from flat and duplicated words, when the prose of bestselling authors working with professional editors isn't.
A couple of examples, from my recent reading pile.
Jude Deveraux: Lavender Morning. Page 39:
She walked
As she watched, a young woman walked from the right side of the house with what looked like a dress wrapped in a towel and a sewing basket in her hand. Joce blinked a few times, thinking she'd walked into a time warp.
This 86 word excerpt uses the word walk four times, and looked is used twice.
In the same book, on page 140:
There were plates at the bottom, and she put them out. She unscrewed the cap off a bottle of juice and started to pour some into a paper cup, but he took the bottle. She watched as hehis upper lip across the top, put it to his lips and drank. She liked that he didn't swallow the rim, but put his upper lip across the top.
Put is used 3 times in 61 words.
Stephanie Laurens: Where the Heart Leads, Page 261:
Joe put his arm around Mary's shou
Mary sniffed. "A right-to-do it was, wrestling, crashing about."
Stokes frowned. He looked at Joe and his brother. "How did he get away? There's two of you, and three bobbies were outside."
Joe looked sheepish.
This 69 word excerpt uses the work looked three times. These paragraphs are part of a short scene, just over two pages. In the entire scene, looked is used 10 times, nodded 8 times, and several other expressions are used multiple times (glanced, frowned, shook his head).
In the same book, on page 220, in the space of half a page we have:
...she glanced at him, met his eyes...
...he held her gaze...
...he gazed at the green door...
...looking back, he met Griselda's eyes...
...he held her gaze...
All writers have favourite expressions that creep in frequently.
Tami Hoag: Dark Paradise, in three separate paragraphs in the space of a single page:
...as if he were wearing...
...as if he were afraid...
...as if he were chewing...
I'm not saying that these writers (or their editors) are sloppy. I'm just making a point that for the aspiring writer, who is told that to achieve publication they must avoid mundane or repeated words or expressions, it is frustrating to see that this "rule" might not be so important after all.
Maybe we should stop worrying if our characters frown or nod or shake their heads more than once or twice in a scene. If we can do that, we can cut down the time spent on editing and focus on the story instead.
Because it's all about telling a good story.
Tatiana