Sunday 8 November 2009

maruutsu wrote:

Despite everything, it was a beautiful chapter. I noticed it wasn’t as lenghty in lyrical descriptions, but the most recent chapters have been that way too. Is this part of your new style, Jenny?

maruutsu, you will have to provide a sample of what you mean by “lyrical descriptions” so I can answer that question. The loss of something “lyrical” would be sad indeed. :-)

I’ll try to describe the four areas I’m working on at the moment in my writing. Some of these things feel awkward and forced for me at times, and it may show through in my writing for a while. I am less sure of my voice at the moment, but I don’t think that’s entirely a bad thing if I’m learning and growing.

“The New Rules”

Now, I am aware that strict application of any kind of “writing rules” is not a good thing. But when you’re learning something new, it’s a good idea to follow the rules at first, until you understand them and have internalized them to the point that you no longer think in terms of “rules,” and are able to break or bend them when the writing situation demands it.

Still, I am not a published author or professional editor, so the usual caveats apply. This is more an attempt to explain my process than to offer advice. These are my four concerns of the moment:

  1. Remove unnecessary adjectives (especially weak, relative adjectives like “big”) and almost all adverbs. We all know we’re supposed to do that, but do we really? >8) I sure didn’t.
  2. Improve dialog:
    • Tone down the Animal Farm that is my style of dialog tags. Less roars, growls, peeps, and squeaks.
    • Less shrieking and murmuring too. Trust the reader to understand the tone of voice through other hints.
    • Use action beats to provide rhythm to chunks of dialog and reduce the need for “he said” tags: 

      Britamund sniffled and nodded. “Only promise me one thing first.”

      Though I feel I may have overdone the latter in the most recent chapter.
    • Move descriptions of the voice or manner of speaking (if I really must have them) before the speech or as close to the beginning as possible, unless it’s really short speech. It seems kind of worthless to tell the reader how something sounded after she has already read it and imagined how it sounded.
  3. Strengthen and tighten up the writing: 
    • Less passive constructions: 
      • “The man was bitten by the dog” = bad
      • “The dog bit the man” = good
    • less “starting to” constructions: 
      • “She began to tremble” = bad
      • “She trembled” = good
    • less “-ing” constructions: 
      • “Wiping her nose on her sleeve, she opened the door and went inside, throwing back her head.” That actually hurt to write. >8)
    • less “feeling”:
      • “He felt sick” = bad
      • “His stomach lurched” = good
    • less “was-​​ing”:
      • “She was the tallest girl in the room” = bad
      • “She towered over the other girls in the room” = well, you get my point
  4. Resist overwriting. *crickets chirp*

Overwriting

I am not sure, but the 4th point may be what you notice, maruutsu. Not everything needs to have a metaphor attached to it. I don’t need to point out that everything looks or sounds like something else. A little of that is good, but a lot of that slows down the pace, and in the last chapters especially I have wanted to keep the pace rather fast. Rua is dying. People are freaking out. They’re not going to notice rich details about the sound of the rain or the lambent glow of the flickering candlelight. Read something like “Yusuf’s tale has negative effects” for an example of a slower-​​paced chapter where a particularly sensitive, observant character (Yusuf) is drinking in details.

Description as pacing

When I choose to linger on something in a fast-​​paced chapter I do in fact have pacing in mind. Check out “Egelric travels to twilight’s end” for examples of that. I have action interspersed with ominous description to increase the level of dread. Egelric’s adrenaline-​​enhanced mind takes in almost photographic levels of detail at the beginning of the fight, and then as he gets the shit kicked out of him and he starts drifting in and out of consciousness, I have action interspersed with dreamy (lyrical?) reflection. “Oooh I’m floating! I feel like God!”

“Saeward unlocks an empty room” is another example of this, actually. In the beginning he’s literally dreaming, and there are a few points (such as when he’s outside the door swinging the key on its chain) that I deliberately slowed things down. Saeward himself — a very methodical, deliberate man — is slowing his thought processes down as he prepares himself for what’s coming. And because the chapter is from his POV, that’s what I want you to experience, through him.

GET UR PANTS ON!

“Saeward unlocks an empty room” also has examples, I think, of the other type of “overwriting” I am trying to avoid: namely unnecessary “He puts his pants on one leg at a time just like everyone else” details. Check out the whole Saeward Gets Dressed interlude in the middle of that chapter. Was it really necessary for me to describe in such detail his whole getting-​​dressed process? I’m not sure.

A little case study in overwriting

Now, I thought this detail was good:

He laced [his other boot] still more neatly than the first, taking care to even out the two lengths before tying them in a knot and a bow.

It’s good because it characterizes Saeward as someone very deliberate and with excellent self-​​control. Donnchad has just admitted that he lied to Saeward and went into Maire’s room with a knife, and Saeward is about to jump up and shout at him, but he still takes the time to even out his laces and tie a knot and a bow. (Which, if you remember how shoes are tied, is rather odd in itself, since you usually tie the bow first. Determining the significance of a character tying a knot before a bow is left as an exercise for the reader.)

But check this out:

“I’m sorry… I was never thinking she would find it…” Donnchad’s jowls quivered. “But she was holding me so tight…”

Saeward turned his face away and fluffed his damp hair before his eyes. He took the key down from the wall and looped the cord twice around his wrist. Then he picked up his knife and lifted his foot to slip it into his boot. There would be the guard at the top of the stairs, but first they would have to get there  –  and now Donnchad had seen the key.

“Let’s go.”

I think it could be better written like this:

“I’m sorry… I was never thinking she would find it…” Donnchad’s jowls quivered. “But she was holding me so tight…”

Saeward turned his face away and fluffed his damp hair before his eyes. He took the key down from the wall and looped the cord twice around his wrist. Then he picked up his knife and lifted his foot to slipped his knife it into his boot. There would be the guard at the top of the stairs, but first they would have to get there  –  and now Donnchad had seen the key.

“Let’s go.”

We don’t need the face-​​turning, hair-​​fluffing detail because Saeward’s lack of reply is sufficient evidence that he is refusing to reply. There is a slight social awkwardness (or catlike fastidiousness) in the fact that he’s fluffing his hair before his eyes, but I think we can live without it. We already know that making friends is not Saeward’s strong point.

The cord-​​looping is OK because it shows that he’s being very careful with the key. 

I don’t need to show him picking up his knife (if he is manipulating it later then he obviously picked it up some point) nor do I need to have him lift his foot, because I assume all my readers know where a person’s boot is located, and they will guess that he either had to lift his foot or bend over to reach it. And frankly I don’t care which image you come up with in this situation.

When to put those details in

So you see, I am trying to eliminate the sort of overwriting that consists of step-​​by-​​step description of clothing, characteristics, or activities that any normal reader is perfectly capable of imagining on her own. If I leave such details in, then it had better be because they characterize someone (such as Saeward’s bootlace-​​evening, knot-​​tying ways), or because they help set the scene (such as a lot of the description of the beach in “Egelric travels to twilight’s end”) or provide clues (such as the seemingly-​​unnecessary detail in “Britamund gives the most beautiful answer” — “His soft-​​soled boots all but trotted towards the door” — followed up by “His soft-​​soled shoes shuffled across the candlelit hall”, leaving us in doubt as to whether the man going outside is Alred or Father Matthew).

In summary

So those are my concerns at the moment. (In addition to telling a good story, which I hope I still manage to do.) I am sure that I will look back on these chapters and on this blog post a year or two from now and laugh at myself, but that’s OK. After all, whatever quality of writing I will have attained a year or two from now would not have been possible if I had not gone through the phase I am going through now. ;-)

For those of you who cared enough to read this far, I will reward you with a shot I sadly didn’t get to use: Cedric looking intense. Hey, it’s shirtless! And I totally see Leof in his eyes.

Cedric is shirtless and intense.