Getting to Know My Characters

Characterization is pretty important to me as a writer. If I have a good understanding of my characters and their natures it makes it a lot easier for the words to flow. For me, to a certain extent, the plot flows directly out of the characters. Who they are and what choices they would make determines what happens in the story. So I need to know my characters. I need to know how they think and what they would do.

For this reason I often do characterization writing where I'll just sit and write stream of consciousness style from a particular character's point of view to try to get them to reveal themselves to me. I generally do this until I can hear their voice, and I mean that literally. When I can actually hear the sound of their voice in my head as I'm writing their words (it usually takes the form of a voice I've heard from an actor or actress) then I know I'm ready to write them in the story.

Right now I'm gearing up to finally make a fresh start on my novel which I'm planning as the first in a saga. (I like the sound of "saga" better than "series".) So I've been doing some characterization writing and I thought I'd share some of it here. What I'm sharing today is from the point of view of the character Menes, who is one of the two characters that speak from the future in the saga's framing device. Menes is a priest who is the curator of the great library in the city of temples. I hear his voice as the voice of the character of the technomage Elric in the sci fi show Babylon 5...


Menes

I remember.

When the summit of holy Tatenan breached the surface of the primordial waters I was there to remember. When Seppo the Architect broke ground at the feet of that mountain to make the foundation for the first of the four great cities I was there to remember. And when the rumblings of the earth caused the seas to boil and overwhelm the land I was there to remember. All things I remember. This is my role within Mayet.

For a thousand thousand years I have watched and remembered. I have lived among the mortal children of Re through countless cataclysms and catastrophes. I have seen them in their darkest hours and known the depth of their potential for honor and glory, as well as for betrayal. In the unending struggle between the Bas of Order and the Sheut of Chaos, I believe it is the Akh power of these mortal Men that will tip the balance for Mayet or Isfet.

I live among Men, when most of my brethren have retreated beyond the living world, to help guide their steps along the path of Mayet and prepare them for the task they must take up if Order is to triumph.

What others have forgotten, I preserve. What they have forsaken, I will restore.

This is my participation in Mayet.

So what do you think? Does Menes seem like an interesting character? Does Elric have the best voice ever or what? Do you do any similar exercises to get to know your characters?

Insecure Writers Group: Shades of Mediocrity

There's a particular line from the song "Homeward Bound" by Simon and Garfunkel that has always resonated with me:


But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity

This is something that I always feel very keenly when I write. There are days when I have to sit there and force myself to put words on the paper because the whole time I'm writing there's a voice in my head saying, "God, this is so dull. Why on earth do you think anyone would want to read this? Your use of language is appallingly simple and coarse. Would you please stop? I can't take it anymore."

Now, don't get me wrong. I don't think I'm a bad writer (even though that's what I say to my husband every time I ask him to read a scene for me). I do actually think I'm a far better writer than many, many people on the planet. Of course, the majority of those people never claimed to be writers and are perfectly happy with their lives in other lines of work. I also think I'm significantly better than many authors of certain *cough* fanfictions *cough* I've read. But that's not really a source of pride. I am, I think, a decent writer.

Then I read books that make me marvel at their ideas and images and prose. Then I look at my own and think "Dull, dull, dull. Irrepressibly drab and awful." All my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity.

And I think that most writers (especially we who aren't published yet) suffer from this to some extent. That's why writers tend to rewrite, revise, edit, and polish over and over again until they think their manuscript is as close to "perfect" as it can get. Our prose is almost never good enough for us as it is. Have you ever had someone read your work and tell you how good, how compelling it was and how strong the voice was? And then you look at them at if they're deranged and begin to suspect that they're just outright lying to you because how could they possibly think any of that pile of steaming crap had any merit at all? 

Well, there's a reason for that. Here's how author Kristine Kathryn Rusch explains it:

When you’re telling the same plot as someone else, you differentiate that plot from the other person’s only by making that story personal, making it something you care about.  You write honestly, without stylistic flourishes at all.

If you do it right, that story will be compelling—and here’s the weird thing. Everyone will mention how strong your voice is.  You won’t see your voice in that piece at all.  In fact, you’ll think that story’s prose is colorless, unoriginal, and rather mundane.

Why?

Ever since you learned the language around your first year, you’ve been thinking precisely that way.  That’s how you think. That’s how you talk.  That’s your perspective.  It’s old news to you.  In fact, it’s normal.  But to everyone else—especially people who’ve never met you—that perspective is new and vivid and memorable.

 Remember that folks: you can't hear your own voice in your writing because it's been yours since you learned to talk and to you it's just the same old song. But to other people your voice is different, unique, fresh, interesting.

And we as writers need to just learn to trust our voice without attempting to polish it into oblivion. We need to trust the unique perspective that we write from to make our writing personal and thus more compelling.

I've known this for some time but I still hear those evil negative voices in my head. Most of the time I just need to block them out and keep going. Trust doesn't come naturally to me, I have to practice it. We all do, to an extent. We need to just keep writing and we need to not get stuck in endless revision cycles. We need to write and then go ahead and put our writing out there, whether that's submitting it to traditional houses, or publishing it yourself. Take chances and trust your voice. It's the only way your voice will be allowed to develop.

Believe in yourself as a writer.

What does your writing look like?

The other day I made a post that asserted that authors must write whatever way feels natural to them, not the way Editors and Agents and so called writing experts tell you to write. (When they tell you to write a certain way.) And I said that, for instance, when authors are told to write "lean prose" (like Hemingway) against their instincts and their voice, they will often strive for this:

but end up with this:

On the other hand it's perfectly possible to strive for this:

but end up with this:

Are you scared yet?

But I don't actually want to get into a long debate about prose styles today. I want to know about you.

What does your writing look like? What do you want it to look like? And do the two match yet? Do you think you're trying to write against your grain because of advice you've received? Or do you try to let your creative brain take over completely and do what's natural? Are you happy with your prose?

For myself, I think I'd like my writing to look like this:

with a bit of this:

and maybe some of this:

But I'll admit, I'm NOWHERE near there yet. I know I've got a long way to go and the only way to get there is practice, practice, practice. (Just one reason I like joining blogfests that make me write something. The challenge really stretches my writing muscles.) I may have a long way to go to get where I want to be (and since I'm a perfectionist I'm not exactly making it easy on myself. See photos above) but I know that I am making progress every time I sit down an write. That thought makes me happy and keeps me going. As well as the encouragement I've received here every time I post something I've written. (Writing bloggers rock!) One day I'll have Sophia Loren writing. I just know it.

So how about you? Feel free to make your own post on the subject if you want to include hot pictures. ;)

Thoughts on... "Muscular Prose"

The other day I was reading a blog post where someone was listing their goals for their query. One of the goals on her check list was "muscular prose" with the addendum "tightness at the sentence level". When I read that, something clicked in my mind and I began to contemplate the phenomenon of muscular prose.

The idea of "muscular prose" or "lean prose" as it is sometimes called became popular with Hemingway. According to this article, Hemingway was given four rules to follow during his time as a reporter for the Kansas City Star:

1. Use short sentences.
2. Use short first paragraphs.
3. Use vigorous English.
4. Be positive, not negative.

The article quotes Hemingway as saying of this writing method:

"Those were the best rules I ever learned for the business of writing. I’ve never forgotten them. No man with any talent, who feels and writes truly about the thing he is trying to say, can fail to write well if he abides by them."

 ...not quite what I meant by muscular prose.

 And now I'm going to explain why I think it's a BAD THING that the idea of muscular prose has become so entrenched in the publishing industry as the "right way" to write everything.

All writers are different.

With all due respect to Hemingway, his statement above is naive. He got lucky. He was given a set of rules and for some reason they worked for him and he was successful. But that's the exception that tests the rule.

All writers are skilled in different ways, see things in different ways, think in different ways. And as a result of being different people  with different gifts, all writers choose different words, different sentence lengths and structure, different ways of communicating based on what feels natural to them. This is called "voice". Each writer has their own voice, which simply means "how a particular author writes".

There is no one way to do anything that works for all writers. There is only the way that comes naturally to you, the way that works for you. And the more you try to write like someone else instead of yourself, the more you will fail. That's why all those people who promote fool proof methods for writing great books are scam artists.

For instance, the author of the article I linked to above attempts to compose two examples demonstrating "muscular prose" versus more wordy prose. The results are interesting to say the least. Here's his "positive" example of muscular prose:

The sun rose over the sea. It was a crisp, breezy dawn. I harbored my hangover near the pigpen.

 Now, I don't know about you, but my impression of these three sentences is less than stellar. "I harbored my hangover near the pigpen" is pretty good. It's clear, to the point and even has alliteration. (Everything is more awesome with alliteration.) However, "The sun rose over the sea" and "it was a crisp, breezy dawn" are sentences that have no life in them. They fall completely flat. In fact, they're so forgettable that by the time I got to "I harbored my hangover near the pigpen" I'd already forgotten what the setting is and I actually had to read it a few times before I realized how clever the use of the verb "harbor" was since he's near the sea. Overall, this writer is really trying to provide a good example of Hemingway's style and utterly fails. Because it's obviously not coming naturally to him.

Onto the second example, of "verbose" prose.

The late summer sun peeped over the liquid horizon, decided the coast was clear and stretched into the morning sky. I watched it emerge and glaze the rippling sea with jaundiced quicksilver. It was a crisp clear morning, the dewy grass soft underfoot, providing pleasing moisture to counter my desiccated innards. A brisk sea breeze brushed foam from choppy wavelets, blowing salt-scented air overland to season the stench from a nearby swine-pen and thus compound my gastrointestinal in-brawling.

First, the writer is clearly trying too hard and ends up making this an obviously far too extreme example.(ANY writing style taken to an extreme is bad, unless you're writing comedy.) That said, the author can't help, even in his attempt to write badly, coming up with some really lively metaphors and imagery. I LOVE the sentence "The late summer sun peeped over the liquid horizon, decided the coast was clear and stretched into the morning sky." It's so vivid and the words are strong. Here I can really see what he's describing instead of my mind just glazing over it in boredom. "Dessicated innards" and "gastrointestinal in-brawling" are fantastic little descriptions as well. The writer clearly has a gift for it and I hate the thought of him being convinced that he needs to write the way he did in the first example to be good.

The point is that how you write depends on who you are and you should never write the way someone else does if it doesn't fit your talents. A writer who attempts to use Hemingway's style against his own nature will aim for prose that looks like this:

Rawr.

but end up with prose that looks like this:

Ew.

You don't want that do you?

Things that make me feel better...

...and also make me worry. Because I'm just that kind of person.

Over the weekend I read a blog post that profoundly effected me. The kind of blog post I wish I was smart enough and experienced enough to write. It was by successful author Kristine Kathryn Rusch about Modern Writer Survival Skills. The post is number 19 in a series (I haven't read the others) and while previous installments talked about non-craft related skills, this one focused on two skills of the actual writing that authors need to have. Rusch maintains that the two most important writing skills you need are...

1. Storytelling Ability 

I've thought this same thing before but wasn't able to put it into words as well as Rusch. She says:

It’s long past time to stop calling ourselves “writers” and start calling ourselves “storytellers.”  The word “writer” is misleading.  The craft of producing good fiction is not about the words.  In fact, it has never been about the words.  Fiction is about the story.

Writers need to focus on the elements of storytelling—great characters, great plots, real emotions, cliffhangers, fascinating settings and situations—rather than lovely words.  Lovely words might get you admirers, but lovely words won’t get you readers.  Readers will put their dollars behind the person who moves them seamlessly from chapter to chapter.

Those of you who spent all of your time learning how to make pretty sentences, stop now.  Focus on telling compelling stories.

How do you learn to tell stories? Simple.

First, shut off your critical brain.  Storytelling is entertainment, and criticism is the opposite of entertainment.

Second, find story everywhere.  Movies, television, books, short stories, and your favorite raconteur all tell great stories. Find them, enjoy the story itself, and absorb it. Don’t think about it.

Third, play.  Writing is fun. Telling stories is fun.  Have fun.  If you have fun, your readers will too.

 I cannot express how much every fiber of my being cried out "Yes! This is good! This is real!" upon reading these words. Now don't get me wrong, I love words. But words do not equal story. Words are merely a medium for story. The story transcends words and we aspiring authors must often struggle with them to make them convey the ideas and images in our heads which are the story. But it seems to me that there is a tendency in writing circles to elevate the words themselves from tool to end product. In particular the anti-adverb movement and the vilification of the non-said dialogue tag bother me.

Why? Why do we consider the adverb bad? What, inherently, is wrong with it? What is fundamentally wrong with non-said dialogue tags? I cannot think of a sufficient answer. I realized recently that for years and years I have been reading books which abound with these two devices and never been any wiser. It was only after I started reading with a more writerly point of view that I began to notice on my third or fourth reading of the Harry Potter books, for example, how often J. K. Rowling uses adverbs and non-said dialogue tags. Before it never made any difference to me. I didn't even notice.

And I really don't think that most readers notice. Most readers don't care. All they want is a good story. And you know what adverbs and non-said dialogue tags do? They make things perfectly clear to the reader in a very short space. I admit, I like that. I like clarity when I'm reading. I don't want to stumble through your extended metaphors and vague imagery when a simple adverb would tell me everything I need to know. I don't think you're smart for making it harder for me to understand what's going on because you can never just say anything without using some literary device you learned about in your college creative writing class.

Get over the words, writers, and focus on the story. Because focusing on the style of your words will give you trouble with the next writing survival skill...

2. Voice

Voice is one of those things you see talked about ALL THE TIME but never, ever defined well. Most people say something like, "It's just that elusive something, ya know? Gotta have it though." Oh, thanks. How helpful. Which is why Rusch's explanation hit me like a bolt of lightning from the gods (in a non deadly way).

Okay, now I’ve just confused you.  I tell you to stop being stylists and become storytellers. Then I tell you that the writers who will survive in this new world need voice.

How can you have voice without style? Simple.  Voice is the opposite of style.

Style is something you fake.  You think from your critical brain—ah, that looks lovely, I should put that word here. You rewrite and rewrite and rewrite, putting in your stylistic flourishes.

Or so you think.

What you’re really doing is removing all trace of voice.

What is voice? Voice is you.  It’s authentic and real and to you, the writer, voice looks bland.

When I was in college, I had a creative writing class from a marvelous writer (not a professor) named Lawrence O’Sullivan.

Because on day one, O’Sullivan walked into our class and said (without saying hello), “There are seven plots.  Shakespeare did them best.  If that scares you, get out of my class now.”
If O’Sullivan was right (and he was) and I just told you to be storytellers, then what differentiates your story from my story, especially if we have the same plot?

When you’re telling the same plot as someone else, you differentiate that plot from the other person’s only by making that story personal, making it something you care about.  You write honestly, without stylistic flourishes at all.

If you do it right, that story will be compelling—and here’s the weird thing. Everyone will mention how strong your voice is.  You won’t see your voice in that piece at all.  In fact, you’ll think that story’s prose is colorless, unoriginal, and rather mundane.

Why?

Ever since you learned the language around your first year, you’ve been thinking precisely that way.  That’s how you think. That’s how you talk.  That’s your perspective.  It’s old news to you.  In fact, it’s normal.  But to everyone else—especially people who’ve never met you—that perspective is new and vivid and memorable.

I've seen so many people talk about having to "learn" or "find" your voice. But if Rusch is right, and my gut tells me she is, then Voice is something you have all along and the struggle isn't to "find" it but to not lose it.

Authors are pounded over the head with the advice to revise, revise, revise. Edit, edit, edit. But how much is really necessary? I'm not saying you shouldn't edit. For the love of all that is good, you need to at least edit for grammar and structural errors. But when we go back and constantly pick over our words, getting rid of adjectives and adverbs, trying to make our prose stylistically gorgeous, are we really just removing our voice, our selves from the work?

It's something to think about. I know that I feel a lot better now about trying to be a storyteller rather than a writer. I am more confident now knowing that Voice really just means me and maybe it doesn't seem special to me, but it will to others. I need to embrace it. (My husband keeps telling me this, but who ever listens to their husband? They're obviously biased.)

On the other hand, I'm going to be so paranoid anytime I start rethinking my words. (Which one more me?!?)