The Power of Words

Words are powerful things, as anyone who has been called names as a schoolchild knows - years later they still sting. Writers should know this too as we live by words, but you'd be surprised at how simple rephrasing can make a world of difference.

I wrote a picture book which I titled "I don't need a Mummy".  It featured a little bear who runs away from his cave to have an adventure on his own.  His refrain is that he doesn't need a mummy as he's grown up.  He manages his adventure quite well but then gets lost and needs his mummy - and sure enough, there she is.  It ends with him saying 'I love my mummy.'

No one was interested in it.

I showed it to an editor friend who said the title was negative.  Would any Mummy (who after all are the most likely purchasers of the book) buy that title for their child?  So I re-titled it "I love my Mummy" and sent it out again.  This time the publishers were interested.  Result!

Watch out for giving out negative messages.  Do you have to tell an agent you've been turned down by others or have been trying for years with no success?  Do you have to say that your big success was ten years ago and you've been in the doldrums since?  Do you have to concentrate on all the saddest elements of your story at the exclusion of the funny bits?  I've heard people defend this by saying they're being honest, but given you have limited space, why give them the negative rather than the positive?

Ask someone if you're not sure, and think about re-framing your writing so the positive is to the fore.  And if you're still in doubt about the power of words and how re-framing works, watch this inspirational video. 

Agent Feedback

I was at a lunch with some other writers and the subject of agents came up. As it does.  One of the writers present was finding that their agent was difficult to talk to - they kept discussing books the writer might write, rather than the one they were actually writing.  The writer felt confused - did their agent like what they had actually written?  Should they change direction and do something different?  Or was the agent just passing the time by talking about what was hot at the moment?

Whatever stage you're at, published or unpublished, it's easy to get de-railed by throwaway comments.  The writer has to stay sensitive, but also develop a thick skin.  You have to really believe in your work, because otherwise you're vulnerable to being undermined, even by those who should be supporting you.

I've known writers be utterly demoralised by casual remarks made by parents, partners, friends.  They make them because they don't understand the writing process.  Agents (and editors) don't - or shouldn't - have that excuse.

For anyone feeling a bit bruised or battered by 'helpful feedback', whoever it may be from, I suggest having a look at this wonderful Mitchell and Webb sketch.  It sort of sums it up...

Beats: What They Are, How They Work

The bits that come between the actual speeches in a dialogue section are technically called beats, though I more often refer to them as inbetweeny bits. They take the form of either an action or a thought or emotion - he said, putting his teacup down or she said, thinking he was so boring.

Here's a scene excerpt from A Single to Rome.  Kimberley and Natalie have just been to a speed-dating evening. Natalie is getting over the breakup of her relationship with Michael.  I've doctored it so there are two beats for each piece of dialogue - two actions or two thoughts or one action/one thought. 

'So, what did you think? Did you meet the man of your dreams?' Kimberley said as they walked back to the car, high heels clicking on the pavement.

'You know Michael wasn't there.' Natalie pressed her fingers against her temples. Just her luck to get a splitting headache.

Kimberley glanced over to her. 'I quite liked a few of them. They weren't all bad.' She jiggled her car keys.

Natalie felt a pang of envy. Kimberley was always so positive. 'Which ones did you like?'

Kimberley put her head to one side and narrowed her eyes as if considering her options.  'Toby, he was nice, and Jerry. And Guy, and that one with the big hands, I think he was David - I got a bit confused in the second half.'

Natalie tried to think who she meant. A succession of men merged into one. 'Was he the shaggy one? No! Didn't you think he was a bit scruffy?

'I quite like that - I don't want them too prissy.' Kimberley giggled, and leant across to whisper in Natalie's ear. 'And you know what they say about men with big hands.

Natalie giggled too. She heard people say that many times before. 'But is it true?'

Kimberley raised her eyebrows and swung her car keys around on one finger. 'Only one way to find out.'

That's so dull to read. If you try reading it aloud, you can hear that the rhythm is all wrong, it's like a toddler banging a spoon on a saucepan, on and on and on. It's monotonous. It even looks monotonous on the page, each line roughly the same, lots of short paragraphs after each other. And, while I'm not making any claims to write high literature, this does come across as exceptionally trite. This is I actually wrote.

'So, what did you think?' Kimberley said as they walked back to the car. 'Did you meet the man of your dreams?'

'You know Michael wasn't there,' Natalie said.

Kimberley made a tsk noise. 'I quite liked a few of them. They weren't all bad.'

'Which ones did you like?' Natalie didn't think there'd been anyone who could raise a spark of interest in her. But that was unfair: all her interest was directed at Michael.

'Toby, he was nice, and Jerry. And Guy, and that one with the big hands, I think he was David - I got a bit confused in the second half.'

Natalie checked her card as she tried to remember. David, David, David... 'Was he the shaggy one? No! Didn't you think he was a bit scruffy?' She wanted to say slobbery.

'I quite like that - I don't want them too prissy. And you know what they say about men with big hands.' Kimberley raised her eyebrows at Natalie, who laughed.

'But is it true?'

'Only one way to find out.'

Just looking at it on the page it looks better. The speeches are broken up, and there are several which have no attributions, no actions, no thoughts.

Attrib. Action.

Attrib.

Action.

Thought. Thought. Thought.

-

Action. Thought. Thought.

Action. Action.

-

-

It's a pretty random pattern, and is all the better for it. We need to know what the characters are doing and thinking, but if we get everything it's relentless, a bit like sitting next to some twit at the cinema who feels the need to give a running commentary on the film. The bits of dialogue without any attributions, or beats are like breathing spaces in the prose.

They also speed up the pace. Immediately after this passage comes a longish paragraph of Natalie's interior thoughts which slows the pace down again. Fast, slow, fast, slow - readers want the variety or they get bored. Most writers - all? - read out their work either as they're writing or editing, or both. They can hear the rhythm of the beats and instinctively are looking for variety. Listen to the rhythms of your writing. Listen to your beats.

Bland Writing

Having written about why we shouldn't compare ourselves to any other writer, good or bad, published or unpublished, I was reminded of talking with someone recently about their work. The writing was fine.  It wasn't badly written, the grammar and sentence construction good, there was pace and flow. The story situation was interesting, the description okay, the action had drama.  It was fine.  But...

It was bland.  There was no energy.  There was no edge.  And above all, the characters were neutral.  The writer put them through the motions in a competent way, but there was no flair, no verve in the writing.  It was all rather well bred, well composed.  It was polite.  Beige, I suppose.

And beige isn't interesting.  The worse book I've read recently (more accurately, part read) was The Shakespeare Secret.  It's not good, and I've written why elsewhere in the blog.  But no one could accuse it of being bland - if anything, it's the opposite.  It's so colourful and pacy, reading it is like being hit repeatedly over the head with a rolled up newspaper. Ditto other not-so-well-written books that have come my way.

So perhaps that's the answer to the bad writing conundrum.  It gets published because it's not beige.  Instead, it's a rainbow confection full of colour and life.  Not my cup of tea, maybe, but at least it's got energy.  Meanwhile, the beautifully behaved book that will never scare the horses sits quietly and politely in the slush pile.

When Bad Writers Get Published

One of the complaints I hear often is about the quality of what gets published.  The sub-text is usually: how can this dreadful writing get published when I can't?  I don't have any specific answers to that, but some thoughts are:

a) different styles of writing appeal to different people.  Anita Brookner, for example, makes me want to scream because her pace is so slow, but lots of people love her.  I loved Horatio Clare's Running for the Hills and was thrown when several people whose opinion I respect said they couldn't get on with it.  (Too many sheep, apparently.)

b) different genres of writing appeal to different people.  I'm not a fan of science fiction or anything with too much technical stuff in it.  Other people love it.  Diversity is good and wonderful.

c) different people have different educational standards.  Ages ago I read a best selling author - sadly I can't remember who - who commented that his books were read by people who ran a finger under each line when reading.  Books aiming for a mass market readership are not going to be written with an obscure vocabulary or lots of literary allusions.  Cliches may be cliches, but they are also accessible and familiar.  

d) the more you write, the higher your standards become.  Once you become a writer you start to analyse writing in a way you didn't before hand.  You stop being a passive consumer and become a critic.  This is good, because it improves your own work, but I find it makes reading a less simple and straightforward process.

e) different people have different reasons for reading.  I read for relaxation and entertainment, rather than to set myself a challenge.  But other people have different priorities and for them the challenge of, for example, experimental writing is worth it.

f) different writing appeals at different stages. There are books that I adored in my 20s that I can't read now.  The sort of book I like now, I found boring in my 20s.  I'm reading a lot of non-fiction this spring, which seems to suit my mood.

g) and yes, there are lots of external reasons like celebrity and good connections and that produce book deals for frankly sub-standard books.  And there are certainly books that become best sellers for no apparent reason.

No one really knows why one book sells and another doesn't.  What appeals to me won't necessarily to you.  If you want to write you've just got to get on and write your own book and stop worrying about what other people are doing.

Characters Need To Be Where The Action Is

I always write from one character's viewpoint.  I've tried multiple viewpoints but I get caught up in one person's story and that becomes the only story I want to communicate.

One of the problems with writing always from one person's point of view is that the character has to be where the action is most of the time.  It's fine to have a certain amount of reported action ie the main character hears about something dramatic rather than actually being there as a participant or witness, but if there's too much it will seem as if the story is taking place off stage.

The exception is with stories where there's a mystery in the past that a character in the present has to solve.  The detective story would be the classic example, but many historically based novels. such as AS Byatt's Possession, are also essentially mysteries .  The main character finds out what happened in the past through being told by other characters who were actually there when the action happened, or by reading previous narratives and accounts such as letters and diary entries.  The reader's attention is held because they are also working the puzzle out at the same time as the main character.  

Generally though, viewpoint characters should be present when exciting stuff is happening because they are the reader's window on the narrative world.  We're reading to feel we're part of an exciting world where stuff happens - we can do the ordinary at home.  We want a ringside seat at the drama, so don't let your viewpoint character get the drama secondhand.

PS Blogger has changed format which I'm finding hard to get around.  Forgive me if things are a bit disjointed while I get used to the new format.

Don't Compare Your Writing to Others

Sometimes I read published books and feel demoralised. They're SO much better than my own writing. Sometimes I read my own published books and feel demoralised. They're SO much better than what I'm writing now.

And then I remember that to get to that final form I'd written and re-written and edited like mad. Then it went out to the friends who read for me (that's the stage I'm at now). Then it got re-written again. Then my agent saw it, and I incorporated her feedback (it's not usually much, as she hasn't come the editorial route). Then my editor. Then I re-wrote it. Then I had some more feedback from my editor. Then I did some more editing. Then a copy editor saw it, then a proof reader.

So, I shouldn't be comparing the stage I'm at now with the finished product. And nor should you.

Neither should you be comparing your work in progress with other writers, for example, in a workshop group. You're not writing their book, you're writing your book. Their book reflects them, your book should reflect you.

And the other thing it reflects is the amount of writing in-put the book has had, in terms of experience, inspiration and time. They might have been able to spend more time on that piece of work, or been in the process of writing it for longer. Perhaps they might be near completion of the story and are utterly certain about what's happening and where it's going, while you're still floundering.

So don't be demoralised by reading other people's writing if you think it's miles better compared to your WIP. Yours can get there too - if that's where you want to go. It might not be what you're doing, or what you want to do. I can admire and enjoy someone's magical realism writing, but it's not what I want to write.

It's a bad idea to compare your writing to others' work, or even your own previous work. I'll write about comparing yourself to people who get published even though you think you're a much better writer next time.

But for now, all comparisons are odious and may de-rail you. Just keep on going and write the best you can write right now.