The Joy of Discovery (Part 2) — You Can't Communicate Without Stories

Part 1 of this post gave an example of the importance of stories, based on an ESL class that was reading about author Amy Tan. When the class was queried about what they would ask Tan if they could, one student said, “I would ask which experiences led her to write her stories. After all, we can’t

communicate without stories.” This shed new light on why we encourage writers, “Show, don’t tell.” Today, we want to emphasize the joy of discovery part of this equation.

Previously, we noted that readers don’t want to be spoon-fed a plot or characters; the audience wants the joy of discovering the story en route because journey is as important to readers as destination. However, the joy—of discovery and of the journey—is not just for readers but also for writers.

When you, the writer, tell yourself a story and then read it, you learn from your work what the story is and isn’t, who the characters are and are not. You may reread what you’ve written and decide it isn’t what you meant to say, that your main character, for example, wouldn’t do what you’ve just written for him or her, or perhaps not quite as you’ve depicted the scene.

Even so, the gist of what you wanted to achieve is likely there waiting in the wings to be revealed. But this realization often won't come until you make the effort to write the scene you initially imagined. The insight you gain from what works and what doesn't, and why, then becomes part of your wisdom as a writer.

What have you recently discovered about your story or character that came as a result of the joy of discovery?

Do you have a writing question to share? Email WordforWords.

The Joy of Discovery (Part 1) — You Can't Communicate Without Stories

A teacher asked students in an ESL class reading about author Amy Tan what would they ask Tan if they could. One student said, “I would ask which experiences led her to write her stories. After all, we can’t communicate without stories.”

The student’s observation, especially in that context, shed new light on why we encourage writers, “Show, don’t tell.” We don’t want readers to be spoon-fed a plot or characters; we want them to have the joy of discovering the story en route because journey is as important to readers as destination, maybe more so since the most intimate communication comes by experiencing the tale.

See us next time for Part 2 of this musing.

Do you have a writing question to share? Email WordforWords.

Grow Your Up Characters Through Voice

Does your story span generations, and do your characters go from youth to age in maturity or chronology? One way to accomplish this and emphasize their development is to grow your characters up by how they sound.

Typically, the closer the viewpoint the deeper the writer is within a character’s thoughts and feelings. Thus, we’re not always conscious of the age-appropriateness of the character’s voice as we write. But once the first draft is done, we can go back and listen to how the character sounds at the beginning versus the end of the story to see —and hear —how much he or she has grown.

It’s also helpful to realize that each character will vary in degree of development and/or devolution. To emphasize these changes, be deliberate in revealing the maturation of your character’s voice throughout the story, especially at pivotal points, such as when they achieve their dreams — or don’t. This will also help support for the story’s pacing.

Do you have a character who seems flat or stuck in a developmental rut? Listen to how he or she sounds at the beginning versus the end of your story. There may be room for growth.

Do you have a writing question to share? Email WordforWords.

The Use of Rest in Fiction

In today’s busy world, no less the world of fiction, writers are always looking to up the stakes for their stories and characters, yet there’s something to be said for moments of rest.

 

A moment of rest in a short story or novel is a moment where the writer gives the reader time to pause and reflect on an element of the story, a character or both. Such moments offer a deeper dive into an aspect of the work from within and give the reader time to better appreciate the read, especially when a lot is happening or when the characters are many or diverse.

 

So how are such moments created? One general principle is the use of detail: about the setting, a character or a point of plot. Such details — the slanting sunlight through a forest glade, the softness in a lover’s eyes or the rumble of thunder heard by a child awaiting a parent's return — actually give the reader's mind a rest, as one might pause and appreciate a moment of beauty.

The Prismatic Artistry of Varied Viewpoints in a Novel

As with the light that comes through a stained glass window, there is prismatic artistry in showing varied viewpoints in a novel. But how does the writer know whether this multiplicity will benefit his or her work?

 

A good example of multiple points of view is Colum McCann’s Let the Great World Spin. Variegated views work well in McCann’s novel because of three key factors: topic, theme and scope.

 

The topic is New York City in the 1970s, its joys, sorrows, beauty and promise. While the theme reflects the spirit of a city and a nation in transition, it also includes a prescient sense of their poignant innocence. The story’s scope plays out over 300 pages.

 

or all these reasons, multiple viewpoints serve the work well, for they aim to convey the depth, breadth, height and soul of the city that never sleeps. If you’re wondering whether multiple viewpoints would serve your work, consider its topic, theme and scope. If these can sustain and would be enhanced by multiple perspectives, your work may be well-served by varied and variegated viewpoints.

 

For more on Let the Great World Spin, see “The Soul of a City.” For more on the author, see Colum McCann.

The Brilliance of “Rebecca”

If you’ve never read the novel Rebecca, or if you haven’t read it lately, you may want to pick it up this holiday season, as a study in the strength of a character the reader never sees except through the eyes of others.

Penned by English author Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca was published in 1938 and became a bestseller that still remains in print. Starting with the ominous, "Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again,” du Maurier explores the chilling saga of the second Mrs. Maxim de Winter, whose name du Maurier never reveals. Yet, almost from the start we know de Winter’s first wife, Rebecca, for how can anyone, especially a second wife with no apparent self-identity, compete with the dead?

The story begins with the new Mrs. de Winter’s memory of that inaugural visit to the haunting estate of Manderley, a remote mansion on the windswept Cornish coast, and its equally haunted inhabitants. This is a first step also for the reader in understanding the power of a place and people remembered who are even more real because their significance reaches from the past into the present.

Thus, we find ourselves traveling with the second Mrs. de Winter, the husband she barely knows at the wheel, to an immense estate. There the new young bride is drawn into the life of her predecessor, the beautiful Rebecca, austere as the Cornish coast, dead but not forgotten, whose rooms remain untouched, whose clothes still hang ready. There also we find Rebecca's devoted servant—Mrs. Danvers—loyal and menacing.

Determined to make a place for herself in her new husband's world, the second Mrs. de Winter begins searching for the real fate of Rebecca amid the mysteries of Manderley, which reveals its secrets only at a great price. In Rebecca, the reader will find melodrama and drama at their finest, along with the potency of a story whose main character is seen through the eyes and enshrined memories of those who loved and hated her.

Types of Editors and Tips for Selecting Them

Have you reached the stage in your writing project where you think it’s time to hire an editor?

 

If so, then it’s helpful to know that editors fall into three basic categories: proofreaders, line or content editors, and development editors:

• Proofreaders check for spelling mistakes, grammatical errors and punctuation, as well as sentence order and flow.
• Line or content editors check these qualities and read for content—whether the writing flows well and makes sense, and whether any major element is obviously missing.
• Development editors may do some proofreading and reading for content, but they focus mostly on the work as a whole and the major issues and subtleties therein—such as character development, plot, point of view and structure—with an eye toward positioning the work for publication.

To determine which type of editor is best for your project, ask yourself these questions:

• What is my budget for polishing the manuscript?
• Have I done as much as I can to complete the work?
• Do I suspect something fundamental may be missing or underdeveloped?

If your budget is tight and you’ve done significant revising, a good proofreader may be sufficient. If you’ve revised and polished the work but want to make sure it shines, a line or content editor may work fine. If your work is complex and/or you suspect an important element may be missing or underdeveloped, you may need a development editor. This is especially important because unless you fill the gaps, you may get glowing rejections that are still rejections.

 

Whether you opt for agent representation, independent publishing or going directly to a book printer, be prepared for the same considerations. Literary agents still get involved in editing on occasion or if they like your work will request an R&R, revise and resubmit. But no one has time to do the work the writer should do. Independent publishing and book printers also have editors available, usually for a separate charge, so you’ll still need to know what kind of editor to work with.

 

Regardless of the scenario you’re considering, it’s helpful to do a cost analysis of each option before selecting one. A good source for more information is Preditors andEditors.

Raising the Right Stakes: Where Writers Go Awry

High stakes, more interest

In the 2001, literary agent and writing guru Donald Maass penned the must-have reference tool Writing the Breakout Novel. In Chapter 3, Maass begins:  “If there is one single principal that is central to making any story more powerful, it’s simply this: Raise the stakes.” But how does a writer know which stakes to raise? Raise the wrong ones, and you wander down the garden path not knowing how to return.

To know which stakes to raise take this example. Let’s say your protagonist’s dog dies. If you write mysteries, suspense or thrillers, or if you want to layer your work, the dog dies under mysterious circumstances. You can up the stakes by making the dog a onetime Westminster Kennel Club winner. Sounds great, right? Not necessarily. This route likely requires a protagonist of a certain socioeconomic class and for you to learn a lot about Westminster. Since it’s a big event with a big name, this plot option takes the reader toward a situation instead of the character, and character-driven plots resonate more with readers.

So what if the dog is a rescue whose owner is devastated because his beloved pet was saved from near certain doom only to meet her end under the pet owner’s roof, or in the yard, or up the street? In the Westminster scenario, the theme might be personal greed. In the second, any number of options could work, and the stakes are actually higher because they’re more personal than professional.

So if you’re wondering which stakes to raise journal the options to see where each would take you. That way you avoid good writerly intentions that could otherwise go awry.