New Blog Focus: The Way Art Works — For Writers

For the past fourteen years, Word for Words blog has focused almost exclusively on writing from an editor’s perspective. The focus is now shifting from an editor’s perspective on writing to a writer’s perspective on writing. Here’s why.

First, you’ll notice that the title of the blog looks a bit different. It’s still called Word for Words, but the tag line is a quote from music critic, manager and record producer Jon Landau on the subject of imperfection and art. Here’s the full quote:

“Sometimes the things that are wrong with something are the same things that make that thing great. That’s the way it is in life, and that’s the way art works.”

The quote first appeared on Word for Words in the post “Second Thoughts and the Way Art Works” on March 4, 2018.

But the blog’s focus isn’t shifting to writers’ second thoughts about their work (though the concept will likely appear in a future post). Instead, the focus will be on the artistic side of writing, what that means and how we go from writing project to work of art. We’ll still cover craft. We have to, because “Craft enables art,” as noted by speculative fiction pioneer Ursula K. Le Guin in Steering the Craft: A 21^st Century Guide to Sailing the Sea of Story.

But when we cover craft, it won’t be primarily from an editor’s perspective, since editors often focus on “fixing”. Instead, we’ll consider how a writer sees (or perhaps should see) writing and its varied components, especially those awkward moments and places in our work: as both art and opportunity for exploration and discovery.

The change of focus reflects a change in my own focus, from editing and teaching to writing. I still edit and teach, but with the debut novel What She Takes Away slated for publication by Bordighera Press in June/July 2023 and other novels in the works, I find that my focus is changing, too, because it has to. Here’s an example of an observation on the craft and art of writing.

Recently, a writing student was lamenting the fact that some days their novel-in-progress read like Proust and some days it read like poo. Who hasn’t felt that way? But rather than shut the conversation down with an offhand comment like that, I thought about what the writer said and why most, if not all, writers feel this way at times. (It’s the “why” questions that, difficult though they often are, usually yield the most fruit.)

One reason for the emotional swings we writers go through is that what many of us are actually aiming for is artistry, and we spend a lot of time, energy and budget on that goal. Whether we always articulate it or not, most of us want more than words on a page and a story—we want our words and stories to be memorable, and for the right reasons.

Apart from the fact that artistry comes at a price, not the least of which is the cost of all the opportunities we give up in order to put ourselves out there, some days we don’t recognize that the things that are “wrong” with our work are the things that can make that work great.

Take, for example, live performance. Live performance of any type isn’t perfect, despite our best efforts. But impromptu moments are precisely what make a live experience memorable, moments where an actor ad libs or a musician doesn’t stick to the sheet. It’s these moments, and what they’re made of, that we’ll explore here, including from the perspective of artists in fields besides writing. Because the more I see of other fields like music, the more I’m learning about the craft and art of writing, and other areas of the arts as well.

For the full interview with Bruce Springsteen on The New Yorker Radio Hour, click on Bruce Springsteen Talks with David Remnick.

Improvisation and Fiction From the Heart

“Improvisation is an important element in the construction of any novel. You are making up a good deal of the story and its environs. In this way novel writing is closer to jazz than it is to the mathematical precision of the modern interpretation of European classical music.” Elements of Fiction, Walter Mosley

In fiction, as in music, improvisation is a critical element, because if the writer isn’t surprised by what happens in the story, even one based on real events and people, the reader won’t be either.

One of the scariest things writers face is the blank page. So it’s usually a relief when the writer knows where a story is going and sets off down that path. So why, then, would the writer take a detour for parts unknown or a dead end?

Crime fiction novelist Walter Mosley, author of Elements of Fiction, says that one reason to take the risk is that “… the story we’re writing is a living thing and has opinions of its own. As the writer, we are part of these decisions, but that doesn’t give us, or our conscious minds, complete control.”

Fiction writers need both insight and inspiration. When we start a story, we may have a good sense of the plot and the characters. But it doesn’t usually take long to realize we don’t know everything. “Creativity has much to do with experience, observation and imagination, and if any one of those key elements is missing, it doesn’t work,” per Bob Dylan in Chronicles Vol. 1. When the writer reaches a fork in the road or a roadblock, it’s the right time to ask, “Now what?”

It’s also a great time to ask, “What if?” In fiction, as in life, what-if questions can be vexing because they force us to face uncertainty, the unknown. In fiction writing, these moments offer the prospect of discovery. This means the writer can use what-if queries as catalysts to develop and deepen the work, even if it means exploring a trail that doesn’t follow the existing storyline.

So, what if the road less traveled leads to wasted time and energy? Mosely anticipates the question: “… a novel attempting to rise above the level of mere story does not get there because of our knowledge and certainty, our education and intelligence alone. The novel flourishes when its author begins to take risks.” So how do we take risks, and what sorts of risks can we take? Here are questions to ask, based on key elements of fiction:

• Character: What if a character wants to do something apparently not in keeping with who that person is (or as we envisioned them)? Why not craft a scene and find out?
• Conflict: In life and in fiction, conflicts abound. The question fiction writer may be what other problems, besides those we’ve anticipated, naturally arise from the story. As a reminder, the three main areas of conflict are: the character with other characters, the character with the character, and the character with nature.
• Dialogue: What happens when someone says something unexpected? To explore this, write a scene without scripting it first, and see where it goes.
• Plot: Instead of going in the expected direction with a particular plot point or event, what if the story took a left turn? While uncertainty is uncomfortable, where there is uncertainty there is opportunity. 
• Setting: While you may already know where your story is set, setting includes everything from weather, location and geography, era, society—everything that makes up your story world. Even the slightest change can dramatically affect and layer the story and characters.
• Theme: A story’s main theme forms the backbone of the story. But what secondary themes might there be that inform the main topic?

When in doubt, consider Mosely’s advice: “… when the Voice of novel, asks Why not take this detour and see if we can get something out of it?—you should listen.”