Revision And Self-Editing Page 18

  But the very opposite is the case. Readers are not interested in the setting or the details per se. They are, first and always, interested in the characters. As Sinclair Lewis used to say, "When I want to learn about the Azores, I'll read the National Geographic, not a novel!"

  Avoid, then, the descriptive dump. That is when all the description is given at once, then the story picks up again. While on occasion, especially at the opening of scenes, you can put in a relatively full description, it's more often the better choice to "marble" the description in during the action.

  The way to do this is to put the description in the character's point of view and use tire details to add to the mood (double duty again).

  For example, the opening of Dean Koontz's Midnight has a character, Janice Capshaw, who has gone running at night. She's not going to make it out alive. In fact, she's going to become a treat for a horrible thing that chases her. Here are a few passages that occur as she catches her first glimpse of the chaser. The descriptive details are italicized:

  Someone stood on that twenty-foot-high wall of boulders, looking down at her. Janice glanced up just as a cloak of mist shifted and as moonlight silhouetted him. ...

  For a moment, peering directly up at him, she was transfixed by his gaze. Backlit by the moon, looming above her, standing tall and motionless upon the ramparts of rock, with sea spray exploding to the right of him, he might have been a carved stone idol with luminous jewel eyes ...

  Janice broke her paralysis, turned back on her own tracks, and ran toward the entrance to the public beach—a full mile away. Houses with lighted windows stood atop the steep-walled bluff that overlooked the cove...

  CHARACTER DESCRIPTION

  Specific details about a character's background create the illusion that the story is about a real person. It aids in the suspension of disbelief. The fictive dream becomes so vivid it's very close to actual experience.

  A clunky way of rendering essential background might go like this:

  Maddie Pace sometimes had trouble sleeping. Things would worry her. She could fret over the littlest things, such as what visitors might have thought about her housekeeping. She'd often drive her fiancee crazy at restaurants when she couldn't make up her mind what to order.

  Stephen King, who is a master at such characterization, did this much better in his story "Home Delivery":

  Maddie Pace, who sometimes couldn't sleep if, after a visit from Reverend Johnson, she spied a single speck of dust under the din-ing-room table. Maddie Pace, who, as Maddie Sullivan, used to drive

  her fiancee, Jack, crazy when she froze over a menu, debating entrees sometimes for as long as half an hour.

  "Maddie, why don't you just flip a coin?" he'd asked her once after she had managed to narrow it down to a choice between the braised veal and the lamb chops, and then could get no further.

  Notice all the instances of specificity in these two small paragraphs:

  • The visitor is named Reverend Johnson.

  • The cause of her distress is a single speck of dust.

  • The location is under the dining-room table.

  • Her maiden name was Sullivan.

  • Her fiancee's name was Jack.

  • She would freeze over a menu.

  • Sometimes for as long as half an hour.

  • We get actual dialogue from Jack that reflects his frustration.

  • We are told she was stuck between braised veal and lamb chops.

  DESCRIBING KEY MOMENTS

  A good novel always has key, or heightened, moments and scenes. They should be written for all they're worth. One way to do that is to write the moment in slow motion. Concentrate an each beat, as Dennis Lehane does in Mystic River:

  She took a deep breath, let it out. "At three in the morning on Sunday, Dave came back to our apartment covered in someone else's blood."

  It was out there now. The words had left her mouth and entered the atmosphere. They formed a wall in front of her and Jimmy and then that wall sprouted a ceiling and another wall behind them and they were suddenly cloistered within a tiny cell created by a single sentence. The noises along the avenue died and the breeze vanished, and all Celeste could smell was Jimmy's cologne and the bright May sun baked into the steps at their feet.

  Celeste's admission is the crucial turning point in Lehane's novel. As such, it shouldn't pass without descriptive emphasis. Lehane gives a paragraph to draw it out. He does so with the following beats:

  • Celeste thinks about the words being out there now in the atmosphere.

  • The effect of the words is to form walls, isolating the characters.

  • The space becomes more confining—a tiny cell.

  • Other sensory details go away (noises and breeze).

  • The sensory images left are immediate (Jimmy's cologne and the sun baked into the steps).

  Look for key moments in your own work. By slowing down and focusing in on descriptive details and thoughts, let the moment stand out for the reader.

  KEY POINTS

  • Choose a location wisely, as if it is a character, and do your research.

  • Use all the senses, and seek the telling detail.

  • Create mood with your descriptions.

  • Put scene descriptions within the actions and perceptions of a character.

  • It's tempting to dump all your information in large chunks. Resist!

  • When it comes to key moments, slow down and work to find just the right details. This is time well spent.

  Select a portion of your manuscript where you give a character background. Analyze it. Have you merely listed the details?

  Make a list of specific details that would make the background seem like it comes from a real person's life. Take your time. Even do some research in obituaries and the like. Notice the examples of real life in these obits, then think up ways to render similar items for your character.

  Come up with more details than you'll use. The writing exercise will do you good.

  Look over your list and select one or two items to include in your character's background. If there are other details you like, find places to weave them into the story so you aren't giving us all the background at once.

  Read the first five pages of your manuscript.

  Now, underline all the details of description, and look at those pages again.

  • Have you established a sense of setting?

  • Have you used sensory details (sight, sound, smell, taste, touch)?

  • Are the underlined words bunched up in one place? Or "marbled" throughout the text?

  Try rewriting the pages, putting in as much description as you can. Go overboard. Wax poetic. Use all the senses.

  Now read them again with your editor hat on. Keep some things, cut others. How does it read now?

  Remember, it's not a matter of piling on details, but choosing the telling details, that matters most.

  Keep a journal for description only. Take notes at various times in the day. Observe and record as much detail as you can, from the big things to the little.

  Later, take these details and turn them into a descriptive scene. It doesn't matter what the scene is about. Just drop a character into the setting and set out the description in a poetic fashion.

  The following are some descriptions from best-selling novels:

  A worm of fear turned in his stomach.

  *

  The panic that lived beneath her skin burned through to the surface. *

  Her chin began to quiver.

  *

  Terror ballooned in her heart.

  *

  A ball of ice formed in his chest.

  *

  White light exploded in her brain.

  *

  Shock stole her breath.

  *

  His spine felt like a column of ice.

  Take the following emotions and brainstorm some nouns that you can associate with each. If you want to add an adjective to the noun
, go ahead. For example, fear may bring up the association of electric wires sparking around inside. So frayed wires might be one choice.

  Now circle your favorite noun from each list. Write a sentence where you pair the noun and the emotion by way of a strong verb.

  Frayed wires of fear snaked around his insides.

  Start a collection of your own creations for future use.

  This is a short section on exposition, because the concept, while simple to understand, comes with a caveat: Too much of it in narrative form will bog your story down faster than anything else.

  Exposition is information that's needed to explain something important about plot or character. For example, your story takes place in a town that hosts an annual rodeo. If you were writing nonfiction you could simply give the explanatory information straight, as Wikipedia does:

  Rodeo is an outgrowth of Mexican bullfighting. This Spanish word literally means "to surround." Rodeo often conjures up images of dusty cowboys scrounging up a living in out-of the-way arenas, but in fact, modern professional rodeo is a very different sport. Its long season peaks on the July 4th weekend, but concludes with the world's richest rodeo, the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association (PRCA) Wrangler National Finals Rodeo (NFR) in Las Vegas, Nevada, in December.

  But when you're writing a novel, this sort of thing would bring the story to a dead stop. The skillful handling of exposition is one of the marks of a competent fiction writer.

  So, how do you do it so it flows naturally?

  DECIDE WHAT AND WHO

  First, you decide what information is absolutely essential for the reader to know, and you get rid of all the rest.

  That's right. It's never necessary to give the reader every datum of information. Part of the craft of writing is knowing what to leave out. It's not always necessary to know the complete history of the slave trade in order to do a Civil War novel. Selection is the key.

  Next, always place the exposition in the context of a character's point of view. Otherwise, your voice will intrude in the proceedings and yank

  the reader out of the "fictive dream." Don't put in several paragraphs of exposition and then give us the point-of-view character. Instead, mix in the in formation as the character moves through the scene. Take a look at the difference:

  The Examiner building was on Main Street. It was one of the many buildings that made up the impressive skyline of downtown. That's why so many pedestrians could be found on the sidewalks on any given afternoon. A block from the Examiner was Frisbee Park. This land had been given to the city by Admiral Hyrum Frisbee in 1921 to commemorate the wedding of his daughter to the son of the King of Spain. Earl Jones saw all this as he walked down the street.

  This is better:

  A little after noon, Earl Jones walked out of the Examiner building and turned right on Main Street. He loved downtown with its impressive skyline and bustling sidewalks. He loved walking by Frisbee Park and giving a wave to the statue of Hyrum Frisbee. It was the Admiral who had given the land to the city back in 1921, all because his daughter was marrying some Spanish prince.

  "Thanks, pal," Earl said as he walked by.

  DIALOGUE IT

  Another way to get in essential information is through dialogue. But you have to avoid one main mistake, and that is to merely put quotation marks around an "exposition dump" and think your work is done. As in:

  "Hey, Buck, what's going on here?" "It's a rodeo." "A real rodeo?" "Yep."

  "Gosh, I don't know much about rodeos." "Well, let me tell you," Buck said. "Rodeo is an outgrowth of Mexican bullfighting. This Spanish word literally means 'to surround.' Rodeo often conjures up images of dusty cowboys scrounging up a living in out-of the-way arenas, but in fact..."

  No, that won't do. If you'll check chapter six, you'll note that one of the essentials of dialogue is that it truly goes from one character to another. It's

  not just a device to slip information to the reader. When it looks like that's what you're doing, the reader is immediately pulled out of the story. So, to give exposition in dialogue, follow these steps:

  1] Decide what information can be left out. Just because it can be explained doesn't mean it has to be.

  2] Make sure there's a reason for the dialogue to include the information.

  3] Drop the information in a little at a time, not all at once.

  "Hey, Buck, what's going on here?" "It's a rodeo." "A real rodeo?" "Yep."

  "Gosh, i don't know much about rodeos."

  "Ever hear of a bullfight?"

  "Sure."

  "That's what it's based on."

  "Yeah? I thought it was just a bunch of dusty cowboys hangin' around."

  Buck laughed. "Nope. It's a big time professional sport now..."

  You get the point. If you can work in some conflict, so much the better. An argument is often a good way to get information into the story:

  "Gosh, I don't know much about rodeos." "Ever hear of a bullfight?" "Sure."

  "That's what it's based on."

  "Yeah? I thought it was just a bunch of dusty cowboys hangin' around."

  Buck spat. "You don't know squat, do you?" "I_"

  "You know less than squat. If you and squat went to a rodeo, squat could wear a T-shirt that says I'm with Stupid. It's a pro sport, is what it is."

  The Switcheroo Again

  On page 134, I explained the chapter-two switcheroo. Apply it to your first chapter by considering tossing it out and starting with chapter two.

  In the chapters that follow in your book, look at the opening paragraphs and see if you can move the exposition to a later point, perhaps sprinkling it in as you go along. I remind you of my rule: Act first, explain later.

  KEY POINTS

  • Exposition is information the reader needs. It will slow your story down if not handled well.

  • Always cut what isn't necessary.

  • Drop exposition in a little at a time.

  • "Hide" exposition within dialogue.

  Here is an excerpt from Wikipedia's entry on firefighters. Create a character who is a volunteer firefighter (male or female) and create another character of the opposite sex who is ignorant about what firefighters do. Write a scene with dialogue where most of the following information comes in through dialogue:

  The three main goals in firefighting are (in order) saving life, saving property, and protecting the environment. Firefighting is an inherently difficult occupation. As such, the skills required for safe operations are regularly practiced during training evolutions throughout a firefighters career. Firefighters work closely with other emergency response agencies most particularly local and state police departments. As every fire scene is technically a crime scene until deemed otherwise by a qualified investigator, there is often overlap between the responsibilities of responding firefighters and police officers, such as evidence and scene protection, initial observations of first respondents, and chain of evidence issues.

  Put your scene aside for a few days, then come back to it and edit it. See how you can improve it by adding action beats, description, and other characters.

  There is no one right answer for this. It's all up to your creativity. But you can repeat it by finding other information about professions (from places like Wikipedia) and doing more of the same.

  Practice.

  [ THEME ]

  "If you want to send a message," producer Sam Goldwyn once said, "try Western Union."

  Which brings up the subject of theme.

  Some writers hate it. Some ignore it. Some have theme firmly in mind as they write. Others wait until they've finished the novel then look to see what theme has emerged.

  There is no one correct approach. There are, however, many pitfalls. This chapter will help you avoid them.

  WHAT A THEME IS

  A theme is simply a big idea. It can be explicit or implicit, but there's always some feeling at the end that the story holds a message.

  The noted writing teacher Willi
am Foster-Harris believed that all stories could be explained by way of a moral formula, the struggle between sets of values. A Foster-Harris formula might look like this: Value 1 vs. Value 2 = Outcome.

  You plug in your values thus: Love vs. Ambition = Love. In other words, the value of love overcomes in the struggle against ambition. If one were writing a tragedy, the outcome would be the opposite, with ambition winning out. But in the end, we know which value prevails.

  It is crucial, however, to realize that theme is played out through the characters in the story. Look to the characters, and what they're fighting for, and you'll find the theme of a story.

  Understanding this concept—that theme is always wrapped up in the central conflict of the characters—will help you avoid:

  • cardboard or one-dimensional characters

  • a preachy tone

  • lack of subtlety

  • story cliches

  These items commonly occur when a writer begins with a theme in mind, something he wants to "prove," and then forces all the action to be pressed through that filter.

  So, always remember, characters come before theme.

  Develop your characters first, your Lead and opposition, your supporting cast, and then set them in the story world where their values will conflict with each other. Write your story and watch your characters struggle. Make the story vivid and real.

  If you have a theme in mind, keep it as wispy as a butterfly wing. Let the characters live and breathe. (And if you change your theme during the writing, guess what? You can.)

  Or, like many writers, you can just follow the characters and plot and let the theme emerge. At first it may be like the faint glow of a miner's lamp as he enters the darkness of a shaft. You are in the darkness. Start following the light and see what happens.

  Don't worry about theme. Worry about struggle. Give your characters humanity and passionate commitment to a set of values. Set them in conflict and as they fight, the theme will take care of itself.

  In the movie The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, the old miner played by Walter Huston is telling his two younger companions—Humphrey Bogart and Tim Holt—the secret of panning for gold. "You gotta know how to tickle it so she comes out laughing."

  Theme is like that, too. You don't want it to overwhelm your story.