Does Talent Matter?

I saw one of my fellow students from my MA yesterday. I could remember her writing vividly, even though it was more than ten years ago.  It was confident, imaginative, polished. I was all too aware how far behind my work was compared to hers when we had to read out in class.  I was also aware that my talent, such as it was, was pretty meagre next to hers.

I had similar feelings with the first creative writing class I went to. One student shone, her work far better than any one else's. I struggled with the exercises, especially free writing - there's something about being told to write now this minute that freezes my brain - but this student was brilliant. The words flowed, her imagination apparently boundless, flair and intelligence combined into delightful prose.

Two writers with immense talent. And yet, and yet.... 

And yet I am published, and they aren't. I remember my fellow MA student when we graduated, how she announced that she'd finish her novel if an agent or publisher was interested, but wouldn't waste her time otherwise. I don't know what happened, but she told me yesterday she never bothered finishing the novel. 

I remember the other student I was so overawed by, and know that she - despite interested enquiries from agents and publishers - refused point blank to even consider changing a single word of her novel.  She was desperately disappointed not to be published, but couldn't see that her attitude was holding her back. 

I remember them, and realise that sheer natural talent on its own isn't enough to make a writer. Of course some talent is needed, and that's something you can't teach.  But to be published a whole raft of abilities are needed and close to the top of the list are the ability to finish work, and the ability to work with others. 

Which I find pretty comforting, speaking as a person with a small amount of natural talent, because those are things we can all learn to do.

Talking It Through

Every writer needs a writing friend they can talk their writing through with, someone to bounce ideas off, someone who will ask the right questions which stimulate good answers.  

I was inspired to write this post having spent time with my lovely writing friend Nancy (to whom Kissing Mr Wrong is dedicated).  I've been struggling a bit with the current WIP and outlined the story to her.  Two hours later, and I was fired up with ideas which filled five pages of notes just from having to explain the story to her and say where I thought the holes, blockages and other problems were.  

Nancy is brilliant to talk it through with because she never projects herself into my story.  She asks questions like, 'What if X is a teacher?' and leaves it there.  She doesn't launch into 'What if X is a teacher, and then they could do this, and then that could happen, and then this new character could turn up and then...'

Nancy says things like, 'Y seems to have 5 problems. Do you need all of them?'  She doesn't say, 'Y has too many problems.  You should get rid of that one, and then that would mean you could concentrate on this one which is much more interesting.'

Even better, when we've been talking and I say suddenly something like, 'Oh, a solution's just occurred to me, ' she doesn't say, 'What is it?' but hands me over a pen and paper so I can write it down before I forget.    

I should have known the value of talking it through from my Royal Literary Fund role, working with students on their essays.  Often, when a student is confused, I just ask them to tell me what they want to say.  They do it, and realise they're not confused after all.  They actually know all the solutions to their problems themselves.  I believe it's the same with counselling - you know the answers to your own problems, it's just a question of accessing them and a trained counsellor can facilitate that.  

Talking it through solves a lot of story problems, so long as you talk to the right person.  I hope you can find a writing friend who is as helpful as my friend Nancy is to me.  I hope I am as helpful to my friend Nancy when it's her turn to talk, and my turn to listen.

Dealing with Writing Hangovers

No, not the alcoholic sort - tho those happen to writers too I've heard - but writing ones.  This is what happens:  you start writing, your character needs a problem/career/best friend so you give them one and carry on.  

Much, much later on, and you're stuck.  The plot can't move on ahead or it's set off in more directions than a catherine wheel.  The reason behind your plot block is the problem/career/best friend - they don't fit comfortably with the current situation.  So you puzzle away, trying desperately to work out how you can get round the situation but not succeeding.  

You have a hangover!  Something you randomly chose in the past is now affecting your writing in the present.   

I've just been stuck in hangover hell, having made a character married.  This meant that further down the plot line he had to have a wife in tow. This wife was causing me problems - it wasn't plausible that she'd turn up all of a sudden, but she existed so neither was it plausible that she wasn't around.  Then - ping! Light bulb moment.  Just because the character was married in the first draft didn't mean he had to be married in the second, especially as I'd rewritten him pretty much from scratch.  The wife could go.  End of problem.  

Sometimes it's really hard to spot hangovers.  You get stuck in a particular way of thinking and it's hard to challenge yourself and ask, Why can't X do Y?  Why does Z have to be female?  Why can't A do that?  Why does B have to be a teacher?  Why does C have to be tall? Why can't D be unable to swim?

In A Single to Rome I struggled through the first draft with lots of hangovers and a hefty headache to match.  Then I realised that Teresa was doing two plot functions and could become Teresa and another character - Olivia.  Judith didn't have to be female, and became Bob (who hooked up with the newly created Olivia).  Natalie's original job got the chop and she became a lawyer, which both raised the stakes and solved a couple of plot problems.  

So if you get stuck, check that it's not because of some hangover from the past.  It may have been the answer to a problem then, but that doesn't mean it still is now.  Challenge your previous decisions and check you haven't got a writing hangover.  

And if you have, the solution is straightforward. You wrote it: you can delete it.  It's as simple as that.

The Difference between Scenes and Chapters

Some people get confused by the word Scene and think it means Chapter.  As a reader, we don't see the scenes as such.  We only notice the space between scenes as a chance to maybe put the book down.  Chapters, however, are different.  We see them in every book we read, conveniently named and numbered.  I think that's why people get confused.  As readers they're used to thinking in chapters, not scenes.  

A scene is a chunk of writing within the overall story that is a complete bit on its own. Often it's contained within a specific location, or time span, but it always contains an event.  Using the 3 Little Pigs as an example, when the 1st little pig starts and finishes building a house made of straw, that's a scene.  Another scene is when the 2nd little pig starts and finishes building a stick house.  Another scene is when the 3rd little pig starts and finishes building a brick house.

A scene might be a few words, or a few thousand words long - or even longer, although it's unlikely to be much more than that.  Most scenes are probably between 500 and 2000 words, and the average novel probably has between 50-80 scenes.  In a manuscript you show them by leaving a space between each chunk of text.  (This is why it's so irritating when a ms is given academic presentation ie spaces between every paragraph, and no indentation of the first sentence of each new paragraph.  This post follows academic presentation, your novel shouldn't.)

Chapters are usually between 1000-6000 words long, although they also could be only a few words long, or tens of thousands.  Novels generally have between 10-30 chapters.  

Scenes are all about the story telling.  Chapters are all about manipulating the reader experience.  Long chapters, and the pace feels slow.  Short chapters, and the pace picks up.  Where you put your chapters is very important, especially where they end.  You want a reader to feel that they simply have to carry on reading.  Consequently, although a chapter may neatly contain several scenes, the chances are that you'll cut the final scene to make it have an interesting chapter ending that compels the reader to start the next chapter.

A chapter is more likely to contain several scenes, but it could be made up of just the one. I think this is where the confusion comes. While a Scene may also be a Chapter, and a Chapter may be a Scene, they are two different things and have two different functions. As a reader you think in chapters, but as a story teller you want to think in scenes.

How Do I Look? Me, Through Your Eyes

As I'm typing this I have no idea how I look.  For all I know I might have a funny little smile on my face, or my brow my be furrowed, or my jaw clenched. I might even look as radiant as the morning sun. (I wish.)

Similarly, when we're looking at the world through one character's POV we have to remember that while they can see other people's expressions they can't see their own.  

So you can have this: 

Joe didn't know what to say or do. Helen looked furious.  Her cheeks flared red as she spat out the words, 'I hate you.'  He felt his jaw tighten in response as he stopped himself shouting back. 

But you can't have this: 

Joe didn't know what to say or do. Helen looked furious.  Her cheeks flared red as she spat out the words, 'I hate you.'  A muscle flickered along his jawline as he stopped himself shouting back. 

So, how do you describe the viewpoint character? The answer is obliquely. (Not looking a mirror.  That's a cliche.)

She sucked in her tummy and tugged as hard as she could, but there was no way the zip was going up to the top.  

ie the character is plump

I ran her hands through my hair, wondering what it would be like to have hair as long and straight and blonde as Gwyneth Paltrow's. 

ie the character has short, dark, curly hair

She heaved herself off the chair.  

ie the character is large and ungainly

I hurdled the 5 barred gate easily. 

ie the character is athletic and probably tall

I squirted extra sunscreen on my head and rubbed it in.  

ie the character is bald.

It's not difficult to do once you get the hang of it.  The other thing to remember is that you don't have to describe your characters in minute detail.  If anything, less is more. You want to convey just enough information so the reader can create an image in their minds.  

When Feedback Goes Wrong

A friend asked me to have a look at their novel a while back so I did.  I like book doctoring, but don't like the fall out - people really want you to love their novels and it can be hard to accept that they're less than perfect.  I know this, so I'm exceptionally careful when giving feedback, as I thought I was in this case.

I met up with my friend recently and asked how the novel was going along. 'I've given it up,' she said.  'As no one was connecting with it, there didn't seem any point in carrying on.'  This was said while pointedly not looking me in the eye and, not being completely dim, I picked up that this might just be referring to me. Yup. It turned out that my lack of ecstatic enthusiasm for the work had convinced them that they should stop right there.  

Well.

I was amazed, as I thought I'd been quite positive, if not gushing.  I didn't say much more - it seemed best not to - but there were lots of things I wanted to say afterwards...

1.  You shouldn't ask for feedback if you don't want it.  Or warn me that you only want praise instead of asking me to be really honest.

2.  No one's work is perfect; there are always comments to be made.

3.  It takes me a lot of time to read, think, then give feedback.  I don't do it lightly so accept that if you're feeling disgruntled about my feedback, I'm also feeling put out that I wasted my time.

4.  Publication is a collaborative process.  You'll get feedback from editors, agents, copy editors etc.  You've got to get used to it if you want to be published.

5.  If you are dissuaded from continuing your writing because of one person's comments then you probably shouldn't be thinking of putting your work out in public - authors need to have a solid core of self belief.

6.  It's all opinion.  When I enthuse about a piece of writing it's worth just the same as when I'm less positive.  It's my opinion, no more, no less.  If I offer feedback it's what, in my opinion, could be done to improve the writing.  My opinion - though it pains me to say this - isn't infallible.  It might not work for you. 

I hope that once they've got over this, they will carry on with their writing.  It's good.  But it could be better - in my opinion of course.

Research Can Make Authors Ask Strange Questions

I expect most writers have to do some research for their books.  I always say you should do as little research as you can get away with when you're writing the first draft.  That means you focus on the story first, the research second. It also means you don't spend hours and days on the research without actually doing any writing.  

Of course, some books need more research than others. A Single to Rome meant three visits to the Eternal City (see the lengths I go to!), Kissing Mr Wrong meant a trip to the battlefields of the Somme.  

But the strangest bit of research I think I've ever done was for Another Woman's Husband.  The main character's husband trains for and runs the Bath Half Marathon over the course of the book.  Luckily there are lots of websites and forums and books about running so much of the research didn't involve me having to don trainers myself but there was one question I couldn't find the answer to.  

After watching the Bath Half Marathon one year I went to the pub afterwards.  At the next table were a group of runners celebrating their achievement and we got chatting. I explained about the book and they gave me lots of detail that you'd only know if you'd done the run.  But there was still the one question lurking, the question which was utterly vital for the plot.  

Finally, emboldened by a couple of glasses of Pinot Grigio, I asked the question:  'How soon do you think you could have sex after running the race?'

I wasn't thrown out and they gave me an answer - tho I'm not 100% sure how accurate it was, given they were young men talking in front of their mates.  But short of asking them to prove it... 

Anyway, it remains the most embarrassing question I've ever asked.  What about you?