Thoughts on... Prologues

I wrote a prologue for my book this week. It kind of changes the focus of the book in general so now I'm going to need to lightly edit the 3 1/2 other scenes I had finished to match the tone. I don't really mind that. I felt they were missing something anyway. I'm hoping that my prologue will give the main story context and more driving force. I like stories that are clearly going somewhere, not stories that meander or that I can only guess what the point of them is.

But here's the gamble I'm making: the prologue (and the epilogue that will accompany it) make the "main story" essentially one long, complex flashback. The prologue/epilogue are thousands of years later than the main story. This is a format I intend to employ with a least a few books in a series. Each book's "main story" will be a stand alone story, but the prologue/epilogue from book to book will be connected.

Now, every time I see prologues discussed on blogs and forums and such the advice is "Better safe than sorry." In other words, steer clear of them. But I think that part of being a good writer is knowing your target audience and that means knowing the genre that you're writing in. As often as not, the general advice about writing that you find here and there isn't aimed at any particular genre and yet the tropes and expectations from genre to genre are so varied. I think you need to think about when such advice may not necessarily apply to you because of what you write and who your audience is.

I write epic fantasy. And while I haven't read everything the genre has to offer, it seems to me that prologues are an accepted and welcome trope of the genre. And many prologues in epic fantasy will involve some sort of inciting incident from the distant past that set the events of the main story in motion. Large passages of time are usually not an obstacle for epic fantasy readers.

Of course, what I'm doing is sort of the opposite of that. It's entirely possible that essentially making the plot of my book one huge chunk of backstory to the prologue and epilogue will be an unpopular move. I'm one of those weird people who can never get enough of backstory. I just want to know everything and anything that ever happened related in anyway to what is going on now. I fear that I'm an anomaly and that the vast majority of people aren't as obsessed with the history of fictional worlds as I am. Ah well, I can only write the kind of story I would like to read.

Alas, the prologue of 1957 words was my only progress this past week. But it's better than nothing, right? I'm going to try really hard to make more progress during the coming week.

How about you? Do you enjoy prologues? What do you think is the greatest danger of including a prologue?

The Logical Fallacies of Writing: Necessity

I see this around the blogosphere a lot. When do you need backstory? Only use as many descriptive words as are necessary. I need to include more characterization. Only include exposition when it is necessary to the plot. I need to learn to show not tell. Don't include anything in your book that isn't 100% necessary, cut out everything else. And many more iterations of the same basic idea.

Well, I'm here to tell you that the idea of what is and is not necessary in your story is a False Dilemma.

Elements of story (like backstory, prologue, characterization), building blocks of writing (like exposition, descriptive words, dialogue) or even specific elements of your story (a certain character, a particular scene, a paragraph of description) are not either necessary or unnecessary. Because let's face it, this is fiction. And there's no such thing as "necessary" in fiction. Everything is unnecessary include your entire story its self. Every word, every sentence, ever character, every plot point is essentially unnecessary.

But that's ok because the point of reading fiction is not what is "necessary" but what is pleasurable. Fiction is entertainment or possibly even art. You don't ask yourself "is this necessary" when writing. You ask yourself "does this make for an enjoyable reading experience".

Now you're down to the question of what is enjoyable, which is much better. As we all know, this is going to be subjective and trying to please everybody will only please nobody. My personal opinion is that the author needs to write the story that they would enjoy themselves.

So if you like backstory, then include it. If you like a certain plot point, include it. If a certain descriptive phrase is pleasurable to your ear, include it. If you think a certain plot point make the story more enjoyable, include it. And so on. Don't be intimidated by the idea of what is "necessary". Focus on what is fun and pleasurable and beautiful.

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?

Thoughts on... Titles

Titles have always given me trouble which is why I tend to just refer to the stuff I write by such vague terms as "my WIP", "my story", or "my other story". Part of me spends the whole time desperately hoping that by the time I'm done writing I'll be able to find a good title. Because titles are pretty important, you know?

The title is often the first impression one gets for a given book. And as much as we tell ourselves not to make judgements based on first impressions, we just can't help it. And gosh darnit, I want to have a good title!

Recently my husband pointed me in the direction of a couple of blog posts about titles written by sci fi author Mike Flynn. Entitlement Part I Entitlement Part II In these posts not only does he give his thoughts on titles, but also the thoughts and favorites of several of his author friends. He lists a few properties that he thinks a title should have:

1.  Arresting

A title should catch your eye, causing you to pause and wonder.


2. Suggestive

A title should give some idea of where the narrative is heading or at least indicate that something interesting will be happening. Playing on metaphor and symbolism or invoking atmosphere are a good way to hint at what is to come without revealing too much.

3. Challenging

You can also catch a reader's attention with a title that challenges him. Perhaps a title that works on multiple levels or one where the meaning only becomes apparent after reading the story. Though be careful not to tip over into pretentiousness.

4. Rhythm

A title can also attract readers by having a good beat or flow. Alliteration is often a fun way of accomplishing this.

I read those posts about two weeks ago and I guess subliminally they must have been working on me all this time since yesterday I managed to come up with a title for my current WIP. And I really like it. I'm calling it a working title for now, but I think it will probably end up as the finished title. Here it is:

The First Day

So what do you think? Does my title fulfill any of the above criteria? Does it sound intriguing to you? How do you find your titles? Is it difficult or easy for 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?!?)