Over Complicating The Story

All story telling is a matter of event selection by the author.  You're choosing all the time what to include, and what not to.  So, you include them getting on a bus, but you don't include the walk to the bus stop.  Most writers don't include the day to day minutiae of life - getting up, going to the loo, eating meals, washing hair, listening to the radio, watching TV.  In other words, you're making choices all the time, even if you don't think you are.

Some writers, however, have a penchant for expanding stories.  For example, they want to include lots of detail about the characters past history, or the details of how they get from A to B.  Most of the time you really don't need this stuff - it's what happens when they get to B that counts, not whether they changed trains at Tooting.

It's something to watch out for particularly with short stories which are usually about one single idea or theme.  They don't expand; instead they're tightly focused.

The most successful short story I've ever written (competition winner, published in an anthology, broadcast on Radio 4, turned into a film) started out as a lengthy piece of writing over 5000 words.  It was inspired in part by a tour round a diamond merchant while on holiday in Amsterdam.  I wrote lots about the tour (which my characters took) and about all the diamond information I'd learned, but the story was actually about the relationship between a young couple.

To get from version 1 to the final, successful, version involved a lot of cutting, and what went was all the stuff set in Amsterdam about the diamonds.  None of it, although interesting (at least, I think so) had any relevance to the power relationship.  In fact, the diamond ring he gives her isn't important either, and in retrospect I could have cut that too and the story would stand. I also cut a girlfriend that the central character confides in, and details of their back story - how they met, their backgrounds etc.

The final version was under 2300 words because I cut anything that didn't add to my central question which I expressed in a single sentence:  if you really loved someone, what would it take for you to leave them?  Expressing it like this led to complicated emotions but a simple plot, and is why I think that particular story was so successful.

Recurring Characters

The golden rule for story telling is change.  Usually it's characters who change in some way - they grow up, they learn to trust again, they discover inner strength they didn't know they had.  The exception is recurring characters who come back story after story.

I was inspired by yesterday being the 350th anniversary of Mr Punch, who made his first appearance in an entry in Samuel Pepys' diary.  Mr Punch has changed in format - Judy was originally called Joan, throwing the baby out of the window has been watered down to sitting on the baby and the hanging scene has gone - but Mr Punch remains the same: self seeking, disrespectful of authority, anarchic, and all the funnier because of it.

Punch and Judy wouldn't work if Mr Punch changed his ways and became a new man who behaved himself.  Ditto most recurring characters.  Miss Marple will never stop knitting and listening to village gossip. Hercules Poirot will never shave off his moustache or assimilate into British society.  James Bond will never stop making double entendres.  Harry Potter may grow up, but he essentially remains the same character.

Recurring characters don't change.  Instead, their surroundings and supporting cast must change so our hero or heroine faces new challenges - which they surmount in exactly the same way as usual.  It's the familiarity that is so appealing.  The reader knows what they're going to get and, sure enough, they get it complete with catch phrases and familiar tropes.

Or, as Mr Punch would say, That's the way to do it!

When To Stop, When To Keep Going

I've not been well the last ten days.  I've run through a complete symptom list: nausea on Monday, headache on Tuesday, ear ache on Wednesday and so on.  Because I've had a full teaching schedule I've ploughed on, hopefully not spreading my germs too widely (although if one particular student doesn't go down with the lurgy their immune system must be brilliant).

Now I'm just about coming out of it, but I'm tired and lacking energy.  (BTW did I mention there's been quite a bit of Poor Little Me going on chez moi?)  What with my cold and keeping on teaching, something had to give, and yesterday it was the blog; many apologies for its non-appearance.

But my writing has also taken a back seat.  I've not touched the WIP for what seems like ages and I'm beginning to get worried that it somehow won't be there when I get back to it.  There are reasons why I should take my own advice and write something every day....

On the other hand, there are also sometimes reasons why taking a few days off might actually be beneficial.  At the moment, I've finished a draft and I'm about to embark on a new one.  Having a time lapse helps get some distance so I can see the mistakes more clearly and, hopefully, know what to do to fix them.

And there are other times when being creative is impossible.  I stopped completely after my father died; there was nothing there, no spark, no energy, no life.  Major life upheavals occur, and only a machine could write their way through them.

Then there is laziness.  Complacency.  Denial.  I'd like to lose a stone, but I also ate a whole tub of ice cream yesterday evening.  It may have been my consolation prize for feeling grotty, but it doesn't get me nearer my end goal.

Writing doesn't write itself, more's the pity.  No one else can judge whether you need a break or if it's just a touch of laziness but at some point writing has to be done if you want to get something written.

Characters Who Have To Talk A Lot

Quite often there comes a point in a story when one character needs to tell another character a lot of information in one go.

If you let Character A just talk and talk and talk, firstly, it's a fairly unnatural situation in real life. We tend to tune out people who just talk without letting us get a word in edgeways.  Secondly, what we do in real life we also do as readers.  I surely can't be the only reader who didn't realise that the long, long, long witterings from Miss Bates in Emma were actually funny because I just skipped over them.  (I learnt differently from seeing a wonderful performance of scenes from Jane Austen by Geraldine McEwan.)

So, how to solve this?

The answer is for Character A to do their talking and for Character B to interject things along the lines of 'Go on'.  Make sure that Character B's contributions are infrequent but when they occur are substantial, whether they're verbal or internal thoughts or physical reactions.  In other words, you don't want lots of one-liners scattered throughout Character A's speech.  

If you have a lot of one-liners, Character B starts to look like a television interviewer doing 'noddies' - those cuts away from the interviewee back to the interviewer nodding understandingly which are filmed separately from the actual interview.  

Alternatively, a lot of detective stories are essentially monologues from a series of witnesses interrupted by the detective going, 'And what happened next?'.  I randomly picked up Ruth Rendell's An Unkindness of Ravens to see how she solves the issue and the answer is to summarise wherever possible, and use indirect speech. For example:

"She was unable to remember much about 15 April.  Certain it was that she had been babysitting her brother that evening and Veronica had come in, but she couldn't remember times.  Veronica and she were often in each other's homes, she said."

The problem is compounded if what Character A is saying is unlikely to be interrupted by Character B - Character A is delivering a lecture, for example.  Character B is going to have to do a lot of shifting in their seat or observing things on the stage.  Better to summarise the lecture from Character B's point of view.  This example is from A Single to Rome.  Guy is giving a lecture on Roman concrete, and Natalie is in the audience:  

"He talked about the earlier assumptions that the Romans had 'got lucky' with natural volcanic deporsis, and how new studies in geopolymeric materials (a phrase that would never have tripped of Natalie's tongue as easily as it did off Guy's) showed that the most recent analyses of carbunculus (another word that had not troubled Natalie before) demonstrated that the Romans were using sophisticated artificial concretes rather than natural deposits."

When the information is coming from a letter or newspaper article it is usually written in italics to indicate to the reader it's a letter or article.  Break it up in one or two places, showing the reader that a)  Character B is still around and b) how Character B is reacting to the information.   In A Single to Rome Natalie writes a letter to her ex-boyfriend that goes on for two pages.  It's broken in 3 places by a section of Natalie's emotional reaction (not in italics) that each last for 3-4 lines.   

So, several different ways of dealing with the problem - and I expect there are more; any ideas?

Writers Doing Events For Charity

I had a rather heated exchange recently with someone who suggested writers should be keen to appear at an event for free a) to support the charity and b) for the publicity.

This makes me cross.

Take Reason a).

I don't like being blackmailed to support a charity for no reason other than it's a charity.  I particularly don't like being blackmailed to give my time for free when I am a freelance.  Writing, or doing stuff as a writer, is my only source of income.  If I give my writing time away for free, my income suffers.

This is annoying, but becomes extraordinarily annoying when the person doing the asking is on a salary. For all but the most local of events, an appearance means the loss of a day's income.  Are they donating a day of their income to the charity?  Is the printer and designer of the programme foregoing their fees?  Will the electricity board waive costs?  No, I don't think so.  Everybody else associated with the event is usually getting paid.  So why should the attraction - the reason why people are paying for their seats which means that everyone else is getting paid - do it for free?  Which leads onto....

Reason b).

What, exactly, do they mean by publicity?  In most cases this actually means having your name included on a programme which is going to be circulated around a mailing list.  If you're lucky you'll get a short biographical paragraph.  I accept that there is a cumulative approach to publicity and that it takes 7 (or 10 or 12, depending on which stats you read) mentions of your name for it to stick in people's heads.  But it has to be said that most events do not translate into book sales.

And even if they did, try doing this maths.  Of the book's cover price, only 7-10% will be sticking to the writer's sticky fingers.  So, if the average price is £7 - £10, the author might expect to see anything between 49p to  £1 before their agent has taken their cut.  If I sell 30 books, that's going to mean an income of around £15 to £30 at best, for what may well have taken a day.  It's not enough to live on....

Finally, what triggered the argument was the information that a famous author's fee for appearing at events was £50,000, or £30,000 for a charity.  This led to the comment that writers should appear for free because of a) and b).

To me, what it said was that the famous author was fed up with reasons a) and b).  They simply didn't want to do events.  They wanted to write (or do whatever it was they wanted to do to enjoy their life).  If any event was prepared to pay the enormous fee then they'd do it - and who wouldn't?  

Having said all that I, along with many other writers, will do events for free for a variety of reasons from it being an expected part of the publicity for a book launch to the event being local so it doesn't take up much travelling time.  As a new writer you have to take what opportunities come your way to help the reading public become aware of your book.

But in general I think events should pay a fee, whether it's for charity or not.  And then the writer can decide if they want to hand it back to the charity.  That's their choice.  

Give Characters Time To Think

I think, therefore I am, according to Descartes, and characters need to be thinking too.  You, as their writer, need to give them the time to think.

'I made a stew for this evening. Have you seen who moved in next door?'

This doesn't work because the character's dialogue shows that their thoughts have moved (from stew to next door) but the writer has allowed them no time to do it.


'I made a stew for this evening,' Clarice said.  'Have you seen who moved in next door?'

at least gives Clarice some time to change direction.  I think that because it's quite a change in direction, Clarice really needs a bit more thinking time:

'I made a stew for this evening,' Clarice said, tidying away her apron.  She moved to the kitchen window. 'Have you seen who moved in next door?'

Sometimes more thinking is required, such as making a major decision.  You may want to outline the character's thought processes as they go through the pros and cons.

Clarice could understand Bill's point of view.  Yes, she knew you had to speculate to accumulate, that he was going to invest in the future of the business and indirectly their future happiness.  But was buying a pig farm the only way to go? Wouldn't it smell?  And was Bill cut out to be a pig farmer?  She knew she wasn't.  A tea shop, on the other hand, would occupy them both - her making cakes and Bill dealing with the customers.  And people always wanted tea and cakes.  Everyone knew that, whereas vegetarianism was on the rise.

Too much thought processing can be dull for the reader - there's lots of action in the character's head, but not much elsewhere.  The solution is to give them something to do while they ponder.

Clarice pushed the trolley into the supermarket, inhaling the scent of freshly baked bread as she went through the doors - strange when the bread counter was at the far end.  She slammed a paper into the trolley, clocking the headlines about interest rates.  That was what Bill had been going on about.  They needed to invest their nest egg. But was buying a pig farm the only way to go? She sniffed a melon to see if it was ripe.  Wouldn't a pig farm smell?  And was Bill cut out to be a pig farmer?  She knew she wasn't. There was that delicious bread smell again.  It just went to show: people always wanted cakes.  Surely a teashop would be a better idea than a pig farm.

But you don't have to do it this way; you can summarise the decision making process.

Clarice pondered the pig farm idea over the next three days. On Friday morning she woke up, her mind made up.  'Sorry, Bill,' she said.  'It's no go.'


But whichever way you choose, make sure you've given your characters enough time to think.

Finding a Good Title

Titles are hard to find.  Good titles are even harder.  I'm reading Jeanette Winterson's autobiography Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal. The title made me smile and I wanted to read the book - exactly the reaction most authors would want. (And it's well worth reading, by the way.)

But how to find a good title?  Here's how I've done it...

1. Look at other titles in the same area. 

With Adultery for Beginners, I had in mind Carol Clewlow's book A Woman's Guide to Adultery, which I thought was a brilliant title. I wanted something like that, though obviously my own. I played around with text book ideas, substituting adultery for maths, geography, whatever.

2. Find a phrase or bit of dialogue in the book that seems to say it all. 

Oliver tells Anna as he's seducing her that "Nice girls do." The book is about nice girl Anna going off the rails, so it sort of fits. They do, and she does.  Half way through the book, Jeanette Winterson's adoptive mother asks her 'Why be happy when you could be normal?'  

3. Write a list (it may be a very long list) of words you associate with the book: place names, character names, adjectives, verbs, nouns... Then go for a long walk

I knew what became Kissing Mr Wrong was about Lu's hunt for a mythical perfect man, so I was playing around with ideas about perfection and Mr Right. Then I turned it upside down - the book was really about her mistaken idea of who Mr Right was, and how she actually needed Mr Wrong.  Whenever I was walking the dog I was muttering titles.  One afternoon, within 100ft of home, I came up with Kissing Mr Wrong and knew immediately it was The One. And so it was.

4. Do the above, and then if you get stuck, ask around. 

Book No 4 obviously needed an Italian theme, preferably mentioning Rome. I had the longest list of words but still couldn't find a title. At one point I collared a bunch of my son's friends and had an impromptu eight person title brainstorming session. In the end, my lovely friend Nancy came up with A Single to Go, which needed just a bit of tweaking to become A Single to Rome.

5. Accept you won't always get the title you want

I called Book No 3 Another Man's Wife, after Becca the main character describes herself as such. My editor liked it, but sales and marketing didn't. They wanted Another Woman's Husband. I still prefer my version.