Was forming a comment on a blog post by Nathan Bransford (a smart guy, if you're interested in reading writerly blogs), and my comments were too long to post, of course, so figured I'd make a blog post out of it. Yay for you.
I agree, the internet is a place where negativity gains unprecedented voice. When it comes to writers, though, I also see the problem partly being that there are groups of people who are now accessing the dream of being a writer online where all the glitz and glamor is being sold to them, but little of the reality.
There are tons of writing forums and workshops and groups where nobody says anything critical, even if honest. Nobody seems comfortable disagreeing. You don't dare do anything but praise that other person's self-published e-book, hoping they then praise yours. The golden rule in many online writing communities is 'be nice,' whereas in other environments I've seen, like most fiction classrooms, it's 'be honest.'
The writers I know who developed in classroom workshops, for instance, usually have thick skin, know how to deal with criticism, learn to be honest and respect criticism that engages the text, not the writer. A good academic workshop or writing group is a training ground preparing people for being professional writers (not so much writing as well as professionals, unfortunately, lol).
On the other hand, there is a huge influx of writers this past generation that have never had that. What they've had is online groups with other writers who also haven't had this, and nobody in the group gets used to taking criticism, learns to navigate the psychology of interacting with writer/readers, or develops tough skin. What many of these online groups by and large promote is everyone being really NICE.
And this is supported all the way to the top of these communities, by moderators and site administrators. Why? Because nice feeds the 'you can do it' dream, keeps writers subscribing to site services, clicking ads, etc.
Start telling writers the truth, that their work needs improvement and it's not going to be as easy as buying a how-to-write self-help book, and suddenly the 1 in 10 that thrive and improve stay, but the other 9 leave, and the website isn't making enough money to operate.
If you come into such an online group being mean, then yes, you'll be shot down, and rightly so. But the trouble starts when you come into such groups offering any criticism at all, because no matter how well it's worded or well intended, you'll by and large be labeled as a troll, negative, mean, trying to undermine the dreams of other writers if you don't fall in line with niceties and blind praise (true for every online workshop I've observed, sadly).
To make matters worse, more than ever there isn't a strict divide between reader and writer. Increasingly writers ARE the readers, because the writer's dream is more accessible than ever online and feeding into itself; who isn't an aspiring writer these days?! Many of these new generations of writers becoming readers are overly sensitive to the realities that criticism, sometimes brutal, has always been a part of the industry. The 'be nice' writers become 'be nice' readers who point out any criticism as a 'mean' personal attack, instead of just an honest response. And when there are so many so quick to label criticism as personal attacks, we all seem to end up more sensitive than usual, looking for slights that in the past would just be the cost of doing business.
So, the issue is two fold, not only do we have in the internet a vehicle for unmitigated negativity, but also a system that rewards and encourages unmitigated, naive, ignorant, niceness! And I'm all for being nice, but it's not necessarily a virtue as a reader (if we want quality work to be rewarded) or a good way to survive being a writer.
Keeping a cool head is of course paramount either way, but everyone focuses on the negativity, when in my opinion the problem isn't negativity, it's the ignorant, unsubstantiated opinions that people think are valid simply because the internet gives them a forum for expression.
It's especially embarrassing how many writers there are online who can't seem to manage any substance or intelligence behind what they write, whether positive or negative, and it's this vapidity that is the real threat.
The way to deal with 'negativity' is also the same way to deal with this blind 'be nice' attitude. Rise above it all. Don't be one of the ignorant idiots who argues about whether a review or comment by someone else is 'mean' or 'nice,' but instead be one of the people who says things, even if negative, with substance and weight. Leave the bickering over labels like 'positive' and 'negative' for the fools who can't see anything deeper in a comment, and have nothing deeper to add.
Because honestly, especially when it comes to writing, some of the nicest things anyone has had to say were the things that seemed at first the most negative, and sometimes, in the end, the meanest things someone can do to a writer is fuel them with blind, false praise, no matter how nice it seems.
Basically, if you're ever personally up in arms about something someone said on the internet, or elsewhere, you're probably missing the point and falling prey to that saying about arguing with fools.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Being published is so passé.
I think there's a time in most aspiring writers minds when they dream of the day they'll finally see their name in lights, printed under the title of a story, finally having something to justify all their hard work. Finally, after years of toil, being published.
That's the dream, I suppose, the idea of publication being surrounded by an air of importance, feeling like something big.
Maybe I'm just cynical (surely), but it just doesn't seem like that big of a deal anymore. With the internet, there seems to be a boom in everything writing. The Dream is more accessible than ever. Everywhere you turn there are writers sharing their success stories. Writers sharing their advice (on monotized blogs, of course). Writers sharing their self-published e-novels that have sold thousands of copies! Writers sharing links to books on how-to-write fiction that tell the world how you too, each one of you, can also make your dream a reality and become a successful writer... if you just buy the book.
To meet the demand of this upsurge in writers following the dream, thanks in part to the internet and e-readers, there seems no shortage of outlets for being published. There are more online journals than one can keep up with, successfully publishing a slew of new writers every day. Tons of writing forums and workshops online, filled with loads of hopeful writers sharing their various degrees of success. Entire forums dedicated to building success (read as: sales) for their self-published book, largely to other people pimping their own self-published books. Hell, big publishing houses have opened their own sites, filled with forums and story-reading-mechanics with promises of even more accessibility and presence and success.
Everywhere you look, there are writers finding success!
Or are they?
Is having your story published in an obscure online journal that publishes 365 stories a year a success? Is winning a writing contest on one of dozens of writing forums, judged by other members of that same forum, a success? Is it even a success to sell a few thousand copies of your self-published, 99-cent e-book, knowing that most sales are simply to other writers hoping you'll reciprocate the purchase and buy their 99-cent e-book?
"I've been published" is the kind of thing I imagine meant something at some point, but when someone says this today, I shrug. It's a statement that perhaps used to carry weight in defending our lifestyle choice to become a writer, but seems incidental these days. You say you're published, and I'll raise an eyebrow and ask where? There are a slew of questions that go through my mind, trying to discern the merit of the publication, because just saying you're published doesn't seem to mean enough anymore.
Did being published used to require so much explanation? Did it used to come with so much doubt as to whether anyone should care? Did being published used to be so potentially passé? It's almost more impressive these days to meet someone who is dedicated to writing and hasn't been published yet, who is waiting for a 'meaningful' publication, or like me who is just more interested in writing, and being able to say I've been published just seems... almost boring. It just doesn't seem that hard to get to say it since it's become such a relatively easy cherry to pop.
Granted, it's tricky raising doubts and questions about the perceived success of other writers. I care about writers, and writing, and love seeing writers I respect find success. But because I respect writers, I also feel it's important to call BS when it's due. If you're an aspiring writer, don't be satisfied with the talking points. There are a lot of ways to get tricked into thinking you're on your way as a writer, or that you've already arrived. The danger is writers stop fighting to reach the top, because they think they're already there, or even halfway there, only to find you're still standing on the beach and haven't yet made a splash.
There are a lot of things a writer needs to believe in to find the strength and willpower to actually make it in this industry. Belief in self. Belief in the power and potential of fiction. Belief that telling stories will somehow make a difference and be worth the cost of trying; and if it doesn't feel like there's a cost involved, you aren't trying. There's so much to believe in, but with the ease and frivolity with which people can be published these days, be wary that you may be buying into the wrong message, believing the wrong things. Basically, in the words of the imminent Public Enemy: Don't believe the hype.
That's the dream, I suppose, the idea of publication being surrounded by an air of importance, feeling like something big.
Maybe I'm just cynical (surely), but it just doesn't seem like that big of a deal anymore. With the internet, there seems to be a boom in everything writing. The Dream is more accessible than ever. Everywhere you turn there are writers sharing their success stories. Writers sharing their advice (on monotized blogs, of course). Writers sharing their self-published e-novels that have sold thousands of copies! Writers sharing links to books on how-to-write fiction that tell the world how you too, each one of you, can also make your dream a reality and become a successful writer... if you just buy the book.
To meet the demand of this upsurge in writers following the dream, thanks in part to the internet and e-readers, there seems no shortage of outlets for being published. There are more online journals than one can keep up with, successfully publishing a slew of new writers every day. Tons of writing forums and workshops online, filled with loads of hopeful writers sharing their various degrees of success. Entire forums dedicated to building success (read as: sales) for their self-published book, largely to other people pimping their own self-published books. Hell, big publishing houses have opened their own sites, filled with forums and story-reading-mechanics with promises of even more accessibility and presence and success.
Everywhere you look, there are writers finding success!
Or are they?
Is having your story published in an obscure online journal that publishes 365 stories a year a success? Is winning a writing contest on one of dozens of writing forums, judged by other members of that same forum, a success? Is it even a success to sell a few thousand copies of your self-published, 99-cent e-book, knowing that most sales are simply to other writers hoping you'll reciprocate the purchase and buy their 99-cent e-book?
"I've been published" is the kind of thing I imagine meant something at some point, but when someone says this today, I shrug. It's a statement that perhaps used to carry weight in defending our lifestyle choice to become a writer, but seems incidental these days. You say you're published, and I'll raise an eyebrow and ask where? There are a slew of questions that go through my mind, trying to discern the merit of the publication, because just saying you're published doesn't seem to mean enough anymore.
Did being published used to require so much explanation? Did it used to come with so much doubt as to whether anyone should care? Did being published used to be so potentially passé? It's almost more impressive these days to meet someone who is dedicated to writing and hasn't been published yet, who is waiting for a 'meaningful' publication, or like me who is just more interested in writing, and being able to say I've been published just seems... almost boring. It just doesn't seem that hard to get to say it since it's become such a relatively easy cherry to pop.
Granted, it's tricky raising doubts and questions about the perceived success of other writers. I care about writers, and writing, and love seeing writers I respect find success. But because I respect writers, I also feel it's important to call BS when it's due. If you're an aspiring writer, don't be satisfied with the talking points. There are a lot of ways to get tricked into thinking you're on your way as a writer, or that you've already arrived. The danger is writers stop fighting to reach the top, because they think they're already there, or even halfway there, only to find you're still standing on the beach and haven't yet made a splash.
There are a lot of things a writer needs to believe in to find the strength and willpower to actually make it in this industry. Belief in self. Belief in the power and potential of fiction. Belief that telling stories will somehow make a difference and be worth the cost of trying; and if it doesn't feel like there's a cost involved, you aren't trying. There's so much to believe in, but with the ease and frivolity with which people can be published these days, be wary that you may be buying into the wrong message, believing the wrong things. Basically, in the words of the imminent Public Enemy: Don't believe the hype.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
When I Get Annoyed, I Blog.
That's the mantra, and I'm sticking to it!
The thing annoying me today is a rant I read on the Every Day Fiction forums about present tense. Now, I'm a reasonable fellow, so I'm not going to get myself in trouble by saying this on those forums, but when it comes to things like present tense, I end up seeing some of the most ignorant, idiotic things ever said by would-be writers.
Here are some of the general assumptions about present tense that I'll address (that are of course in no way directly related to that thread I linked, of course, for sure, nod).
Assumption 1: Writing in present tense is so much more immediate!
No. Wrong. This is a dumb. POV does play it's part, of course, but there are dozens (probably billions) of things a writer can do to make their writing feel immediate. Just like there are a million ways a writer can manipulate a POV to make it effective. Trying to give significant credit to any single technique is idiotic. Especially if it's something as easily disproved as the assumption writing in present tense leads to more immediacy. I can give you hundreds of reasons this is wrong, almost all of them in the form of student manuscripts I've read over the years.
Assumption : A present tense story needs to be perfect in all other aspects, otherwise it just looks as if the writer was trying too hard.
I hear shit like this all the time. First off, it's a self-defined catch-22. People who ignorantly hate present tense (or any single TERM in writing) think no present tense story is brilliant, so thus think they're all just trying too hard, thus setting them up to do little more than confirm their ignorance assumptions with everything they read.
But, ahhh, but, if they DO like a present tense story (usually after a room full of people 'convincing' them the story is good, and they're the idiot, not the author), then they just get to chalk it up to the fact the writer was simply so great otherwise, that the present tense could be overlooked, and not have to admit present tense isn't some inherent evil, and instead just their own dumb assumption.
Umm, here's a newsflash: bad writing is bad and exists in all genres, tenses, subjects, styles, etc. What makes the assumption particularly sad is there are tons of ways for a story to go bad, but instead of writers studying and trying to figure out how and why, so you can improve your own writing, they simply chalk it up to present tense sinking another otherwise good story and don't learn a thing, instead continuing to fall back into expected assumptions.
If you ever read a story that doesn't work, or hell, one that does, and point to any single literary TERM for explanation, you're probably not smart enough to make it as a writer and should stop trying. While you're at it, stop trying to express your thoughts on writing as well, because you obviously THINK in the past tense, meaning all your good thoughts have already happened, and those of us living in the present tense have moved on. (What? Tenses are literal, right?)
Assumption 3: Most/all stories written in present tense would simply be better in past tense! (honorable mention to: most/all stories written in first person would simply be better in third person!).
What this is basically saying is: I'm a lame-brain, literal thinker that can't conceptualize the fact I'm not literally in a story or that the story isn't literally happening in a present/past tense timeline, and it took all my life to get used to the standard conventions of third-person and past-tense where I can think the story is literally happening in some distant past, to someone else, literally, as it's all I'm able to grasp as a thinker, so please, don't do anything different, I can't keep up!
If you lament what them darn 'kids' are doing with fiction these days, you're already obsolete as a writer. As a reader, you have to right to be ignorant, of course, as all you're doing is hurting yourself. As a writer, though, your ignorance can hurt others... or at least waste their time, which in and of itself should be a crime. If you don't like present tense, consider for a moment that it's perhaps not that there's anything wrong with it, or that the new generations have just gone off the rails with reefer madness (at one point people actually believed that to be TRUE), but perhaps that you're just a dinosaur in your own time.
Assumption 4: Present tense is hard to get into because I can't believe the story is happening right now.
Don't be dumb. Especially because this contradicts the ignorant assumption that present tense is more immediate because it is happening right now. One of you is wrong... or probably both!
Keep in mind fiction is, umm, fictional. A present tense story is no more happening right now than a past tense story actually, literally happened in the past and we can go to museums to prove it. Not to mention, the tense isn't what dictates whether a story feels as if it's happening in the here and now, it's the style, technique and method of writing. Past tense stories can feel as if they're unfolding for the first time, in the moment, just as much as present tense stories can. If you think I'm full of shit, you might want to consider reading more, or at least higher quality fiction.
Conclusions:
It takes incredibly literal thinking to consider the tense of a story to be so tangible. It's fiction, at least try to allow some suspension of disbelief. Do people who think present tense stories mean the action is literally happening now also think that a first person story means they've been body snatched? I? I?! OMG, I've been kidnapped! I'm now literally in a story! And it's in past tense, so that means it's already happened... for all I know I could be DEAD right now in the present tense!
This kind of literal thinking is the reason second-person is often not popular, my theory being the average reader/writer is too stupid to remove themselves from a story by simply letting themselves be immersed in the implied character (I know, right, it's already confusing that to remove yourself from a story, you draw yourself INTO the story). I think many people have trouble separating the literal 'you' and the 'you' of an implied character, and when they read a second-person line like 'you run through the street' may actually think: no, I aint even runnin' much less thu a street, I'ma sittin' hurr readin' a story! This riter dont no nuthin!
Fuuuugh, get a grip! POV in fiction shouldn't be taken literally, people (as well as writers). Present tense doesn't mean the action is literally happening right now, and present tense only adds more inherent immediacy for readers so dumb as to think it does in fact mean a story, somewhere in the world, right this second, is literally happening. Ooooh, that IS immediate... if you're a moron.
The thing annoying me today is a rant I read on the Every Day Fiction forums about present tense. Now, I'm a reasonable fellow, so I'm not going to get myself in trouble by saying this on those forums, but when it comes to things like present tense, I end up seeing some of the most ignorant, idiotic things ever said by would-be writers.
Here are some of the general assumptions about present tense that I'll address (that are of course in no way directly related to that thread I linked, of course, for sure, nod).
Assumption 1: Writing in present tense is so much more immediate!
No. Wrong. This is a dumb. POV does play it's part, of course, but there are dozens (probably billions) of things a writer can do to make their writing feel immediate. Just like there are a million ways a writer can manipulate a POV to make it effective. Trying to give significant credit to any single technique is idiotic. Especially if it's something as easily disproved as the assumption writing in present tense leads to more immediacy. I can give you hundreds of reasons this is wrong, almost all of them in the form of student manuscripts I've read over the years.
Assumption : A present tense story needs to be perfect in all other aspects, otherwise it just looks as if the writer was trying too hard.
I hear shit like this all the time. First off, it's a self-defined catch-22. People who ignorantly hate present tense (or any single TERM in writing) think no present tense story is brilliant, so thus think they're all just trying too hard, thus setting them up to do little more than confirm their ignorance assumptions with everything they read.
But, ahhh, but, if they DO like a present tense story (usually after a room full of people 'convincing' them the story is good, and they're the idiot, not the author), then they just get to chalk it up to the fact the writer was simply so great otherwise, that the present tense could be overlooked, and not have to admit present tense isn't some inherent evil, and instead just their own dumb assumption.
Umm, here's a newsflash: bad writing is bad and exists in all genres, tenses, subjects, styles, etc. What makes the assumption particularly sad is there are tons of ways for a story to go bad, but instead of writers studying and trying to figure out how and why, so you can improve your own writing, they simply chalk it up to present tense sinking another otherwise good story and don't learn a thing, instead continuing to fall back into expected assumptions.
If you ever read a story that doesn't work, or hell, one that does, and point to any single literary TERM for explanation, you're probably not smart enough to make it as a writer and should stop trying. While you're at it, stop trying to express your thoughts on writing as well, because you obviously THINK in the past tense, meaning all your good thoughts have already happened, and those of us living in the present tense have moved on. (What? Tenses are literal, right?)
Assumption 3: Most/all stories written in present tense would simply be better in past tense! (honorable mention to: most/all stories written in first person would simply be better in third person!).
What this is basically saying is: I'm a lame-brain, literal thinker that can't conceptualize the fact I'm not literally in a story or that the story isn't literally happening in a present/past tense timeline, and it took all my life to get used to the standard conventions of third-person and past-tense where I can think the story is literally happening in some distant past, to someone else, literally, as it's all I'm able to grasp as a thinker, so please, don't do anything different, I can't keep up!
If you lament what them darn 'kids' are doing with fiction these days, you're already obsolete as a writer. As a reader, you have to right to be ignorant, of course, as all you're doing is hurting yourself. As a writer, though, your ignorance can hurt others... or at least waste their time, which in and of itself should be a crime. If you don't like present tense, consider for a moment that it's perhaps not that there's anything wrong with it, or that the new generations have just gone off the rails with reefer madness (at one point people actually believed that to be TRUE), but perhaps that you're just a dinosaur in your own time.
Assumption 4: Present tense is hard to get into because I can't believe the story is happening right now.
Don't be dumb. Especially because this contradicts the ignorant assumption that present tense is more immediate because it is happening right now. One of you is wrong... or probably both!
Keep in mind fiction is, umm, fictional. A present tense story is no more happening right now than a past tense story actually, literally happened in the past and we can go to museums to prove it. Not to mention, the tense isn't what dictates whether a story feels as if it's happening in the here and now, it's the style, technique and method of writing. Past tense stories can feel as if they're unfolding for the first time, in the moment, just as much as present tense stories can. If you think I'm full of shit, you might want to consider reading more, or at least higher quality fiction.
Conclusions:
It takes incredibly literal thinking to consider the tense of a story to be so tangible. It's fiction, at least try to allow some suspension of disbelief. Do people who think present tense stories mean the action is literally happening now also think that a first person story means they've been body snatched? I? I?! OMG, I've been kidnapped! I'm now literally in a story! And it's in past tense, so that means it's already happened... for all I know I could be DEAD right now in the present tense!
This kind of literal thinking is the reason second-person is often not popular, my theory being the average reader/writer is too stupid to remove themselves from a story by simply letting themselves be immersed in the implied character (I know, right, it's already confusing that to remove yourself from a story, you draw yourself INTO the story). I think many people have trouble separating the literal 'you' and the 'you' of an implied character, and when they read a second-person line like 'you run through the street' may actually think: no, I aint even runnin' much less thu a street, I'ma sittin' hurr readin' a story! This riter dont no nuthin!
Fuuuugh, get a grip! POV in fiction shouldn't be taken literally, people (as well as writers). Present tense doesn't mean the action is literally happening right now, and present tense only adds more inherent immediacy for readers so dumb as to think it does in fact mean a story, somewhere in the world, right this second, is literally happening. Ooooh, that IS immediate... if you're a moron.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Writing About Characters = Bad.
I often give advice to not write about a character, but through them. To not refer to action, but instead have it taking place. That good writers know it's not about them and do their best to make themselves invisible in the prose. Don't state pauses, create them. The importance of language is only measured in the effect it creates.
Just as often as I give advice I get someone asking what the hell I'm even talking about. It's not easy stuff to understand, mostly because in-depth concepts, which is pretty much all fiction writing, can't truly be represented in simplistic sayings like 'show, don't tell' despite being adopted by the millions of hacks that think that phrase means a fucking thing when it's really a crock of shit.
And no, I will never, ever give up my hatred of the mantra 'show, don't tell' because it's horseshit advice that I've seen do little more than confuse and misguide aspiring writers, all the while putting money in the pockets of hack writers who cling to it and call it teaching. But hey, why delve deeper when simplistic bullshit adages sell, right?
Why delve deeper? Because some of us care more about helping other create quality fiction than lining our own pocketbooks or thinking we're hot shit in some small pond where 'show, don't tell' is big fish.
Here's my effort to help you create quality fiction, keeping in mind I've never made a dime from writing, whether from my own or by giving advice on yours. Specifically, this advice was given to someone confused by what I meant by writing through a character instead of simply writing about them, and how to handle direct thoughts and feelings.
Say you're writing a character who got cheated on and is pissed off. You have two options. The first is to write about that character from a distant perspective that just sounds like someone is, well, writing about a character:
As the reader, we understand the situation from an informational standpoint and understand how Bill might be feeling, but it's all generalized, referenced action and emotion. It becomes what a generic character, but not Bill specifically, may be experiencing. It's like stage direction telling an actor, or in this case the reader, the circumstances of a role instead of having that role being acted by the character (which is a dick thing to do to a reader. Here, dear reader, thank you for paying for my book, now you go ahead and create the important stuff for yourself).
Writing through the character brings about a specific demonstration of the ideas and concepts we're going for, in this case hurt, anger, revenge, etc:
This way, we understand the concepts--hurt, anger, betrayal, revenge--even if they aren't as deliberately stated (real, authentic emotions are usually more complex than a list of vocabulary words, though that may be a good starting point. And we understand the emotion concepts at play because instead of a generalized commentary on how a random person might feel in these circumstances, we get highly specific examples of what Bill is experiencing as he acts out his own story.
Hell, the use of certain vernacular even gives us an idea of who Bill is--apparently I made him all countrified and you can start to learn the rules of Bill's world, but those are other lessons entirely.
The important thing here is instead of the narrator just talking about a character as if he's some animal being observed in a documentary, we get a peak into what it means to be Bill in this moment.
From a technical perspective, when you're writing in this sort of empathetic, connected way (usually a limited, close perspective/POV) you don't even need to use italics to indicate thoughts or the ever clumsy and repetitive 'he felt' or 'he was' to indicate what Bill is going through. Let the story happen. A line like "The love of his life Peggy done committed carnal betrayal and wasn't nothing left but to get revenge." blurs the line between whether it's a direct thought, information, emotion, motivation, etc.
This is okay, though. Great in fact.
Real people exist in multiple ways in any given moment. We don't think, now I'm thinking about something and then I'll feel it and then I'll react to it and later I might tell someone about it. We simply exist. Our thoughts and feelings just are, they happen, and all sort of meld into what we call experience.
If in your prose you can represent the experience of the character's existence instead of referring to or even distinguishing what is action, what is thought, what is emotion, etc, it feels more real. And then, instead of the prose being about a character, it becomes the existence of the character, their state of being, their reality. Instead of reading about a story, about a character, about an experience, it all happens.
But, you see italics in published fiction all the time, right? So what. I see a lot of sloppy, annoying shit that isn't up to my personal standards, so I don't do them. Italics pretty much scream NOW MY CHARACTER IS THINKING SOMETHING, which is not only annoying, but isn't necessary in an empathetic, experiential based style.
There is a problem to be aware of, though. It's not an issue with fiction or reading, it's an issue with writers (one of many!). What can sometimes occur is we're so hyper-sensitive in workshops or revision, reading every line looking for things we can say are wrong, that we can't see the forest for the trees.
For instance, what if I add not only a potential POV break, but unattributed thoughts by not even saying 'he thought' or using italics. Most people would put their workshop hat on and point out the 'error.' But in empathetic, experiential writing, it may not be since the effect and experience is still being clearly expressed, and isn't that what's important?
OH NOES! That last line I added is floating completely in no-man's-land. Is it a direct thought? Is the implied pronoun an "I" and thus could be seen as a POV break since a direct thought isn't attributed?! It's not even clarified if it's the character providing insight or the narrator explaining Bill might have to kill whatever I called the other generically named character! CHAOS IN THE STREETS!
Whateversky. Only an issue in workshops or revision where writers are often too smart of their own good and looking for things they can declare wrong that may not be.
The thing is, we're so firmly established in Bill's experience that these [alleged] technical hiccups are pushed aside in favor of the fact this last sentence is expressing exactly what Bill is experiencing in this moment. It may be half thought, half feeling, part realization, a bit of foreshadowing, some gut-reaction, etc, but who cares. It would get messy if the writer, as many do, felt the need to attribute everything in a 'he thought' or 'he smelled' sort of way. The important thing is we've shifted attention away from the language, toward the effect of the language, and the prose becomes part of the experience, a representation of Bill's state of being as he acts out his own story.
This is good! Scary for some writers who are paranoid they won't make sense in workshops on a pedantic 'is that a thought because it isn't stated' sort of level. But who cares. Remember that good fiction is all about the effect of the language. If you're focusing on language, and not it's effect, then you may be writing about characters, not through them. And you may be writing about themes and ideas and concepts and writing about a story instead of presenting a story that just happens.
Just as often as I give advice I get someone asking what the hell I'm even talking about. It's not easy stuff to understand, mostly because in-depth concepts, which is pretty much all fiction writing, can't truly be represented in simplistic sayings like 'show, don't tell' despite being adopted by the millions of hacks that think that phrase means a fucking thing when it's really a crock of shit.
And no, I will never, ever give up my hatred of the mantra 'show, don't tell' because it's horseshit advice that I've seen do little more than confuse and misguide aspiring writers, all the while putting money in the pockets of hack writers who cling to it and call it teaching. But hey, why delve deeper when simplistic bullshit adages sell, right?
Why delve deeper? Because some of us care more about helping other create quality fiction than lining our own pocketbooks or thinking we're hot shit in some small pond where 'show, don't tell' is big fish.
Here's my effort to help you create quality fiction, keeping in mind I've never made a dime from writing, whether from my own or by giving advice on yours. Specifically, this advice was given to someone confused by what I meant by writing through a character instead of simply writing about them, and how to handle direct thoughts and feelings.
Say you're writing a character who got cheated on and is pissed off. You have two options. The first is to write about that character from a distant perspective that just sounds like someone is, well, writing about a character:
Bill sat in the bar, sipping a drink, hurt over what had happened. He was really mad that his wife Peggy had cheated on him and vowed revenge. He wasn't sure how he would get his revenge on Joe, but would one way or another.
As the reader, we understand the situation from an informational standpoint and understand how Bill might be feeling, but it's all generalized, referenced action and emotion. It becomes what a generic character, but not Bill specifically, may be experiencing. It's like stage direction telling an actor, or in this case the reader, the circumstances of a role instead of having that role being acted by the character (which is a dick thing to do to a reader. Here, dear reader, thank you for paying for my book, now you go ahead and create the important stuff for yourself).
Writing through the character brings about a specific demonstration of the ideas and concepts we're going for, in this case hurt, anger, revenge, etc:
Bill sat at the bar, sipping a drink, knowing there wasn't enough whiskey in the world to dull the pain. The love of his life, Peggy, done committed carnal betrayal and wasn't nothing left but to get revenge. Bill didn't know how he'd settle the score with Joe, maybe screw his old lady, or worse, but to keep any shred of respect Bill knew something had to be done.
This way, we understand the concepts--hurt, anger, betrayal, revenge--even if they aren't as deliberately stated (real, authentic emotions are usually more complex than a list of vocabulary words, though that may be a good starting point. And we understand the emotion concepts at play because instead of a generalized commentary on how a random person might feel in these circumstances, we get highly specific examples of what Bill is experiencing as he acts out his own story.
Hell, the use of certain vernacular even gives us an idea of who Bill is--apparently I made him all countrified and you can start to learn the rules of Bill's world, but those are other lessons entirely.
The important thing here is instead of the narrator just talking about a character as if he's some animal being observed in a documentary, we get a peak into what it means to be Bill in this moment.
From a technical perspective, when you're writing in this sort of empathetic, connected way (usually a limited, close perspective/POV) you don't even need to use italics to indicate thoughts or the ever clumsy and repetitive 'he felt' or 'he was' to indicate what Bill is going through. Let the story happen. A line like "The love of his life Peggy done committed carnal betrayal and wasn't nothing left but to get revenge." blurs the line between whether it's a direct thought, information, emotion, motivation, etc.
This is okay, though. Great in fact.
Real people exist in multiple ways in any given moment. We don't think, now I'm thinking about something and then I'll feel it and then I'll react to it and later I might tell someone about it. We simply exist. Our thoughts and feelings just are, they happen, and all sort of meld into what we call experience.
If in your prose you can represent the experience of the character's existence instead of referring to or even distinguishing what is action, what is thought, what is emotion, etc, it feels more real. And then, instead of the prose being about a character, it becomes the existence of the character, their state of being, their reality. Instead of reading about a story, about a character, about an experience, it all happens.
But, you see italics in published fiction all the time, right? So what. I see a lot of sloppy, annoying shit that isn't up to my personal standards, so I don't do them. Italics pretty much scream NOW MY CHARACTER IS THINKING SOMETHING, which is not only annoying, but isn't necessary in an empathetic, experiential based style.
There is a problem to be aware of, though. It's not an issue with fiction or reading, it's an issue with writers (one of many!). What can sometimes occur is we're so hyper-sensitive in workshops or revision, reading every line looking for things we can say are wrong, that we can't see the forest for the trees.
For instance, what if I add not only a potential POV break, but unattributed thoughts by not even saying 'he thought' or using italics. Most people would put their workshop hat on and point out the 'error.' But in empathetic, experiential writing, it may not be since the effect and experience is still being clearly expressed, and isn't that what's important?
Bill sat at the bar, sipping a drink, knowing there wasn't enough whiskey in the world to dull the pain. The love of his life Peggy done committed carnal betrayal and wasn't nothing left but to get revenge. Bill didn't know how he'd settle the score with Joe, maybe screw his old lady, or worse, but to keep any shred of respect Bill knew something had to be done. Might even have to kill the son of a bitch.
OH NOES! That last line I added is floating completely in no-man's-land. Is it a direct thought? Is the implied pronoun an "I" and thus could be seen as a POV break since a direct thought isn't attributed?! It's not even clarified if it's the character providing insight or the narrator explaining Bill might have to kill whatever I called the other generically named character! CHAOS IN THE STREETS!
Whateversky. Only an issue in workshops or revision where writers are often too smart of their own good and looking for things they can declare wrong that may not be.
The thing is, we're so firmly established in Bill's experience that these [alleged] technical hiccups are pushed aside in favor of the fact this last sentence is expressing exactly what Bill is experiencing in this moment. It may be half thought, half feeling, part realization, a bit of foreshadowing, some gut-reaction, etc, but who cares. It would get messy if the writer, as many do, felt the need to attribute everything in a 'he thought' or 'he smelled' sort of way. The important thing is we've shifted attention away from the language, toward the effect of the language, and the prose becomes part of the experience, a representation of Bill's state of being as he acts out his own story.
This is good! Scary for some writers who are paranoid they won't make sense in workshops on a pedantic 'is that a thought because it isn't stated' sort of level. But who cares. Remember that good fiction is all about the effect of the language. If you're focusing on language, and not it's effect, then you may be writing about characters, not through them. And you may be writing about themes and ideas and concepts and writing about a story instead of presenting a story that just happens.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Volt by Alan "The Truth" Heathcock
Just to get it out of the way: electrifying; a zap of humanity; the voltage dial turned up to 11 (one greater than most fiction!); shock-fucking-therapy.
And, before I don't start, I'll admit my bias: I had the pleasure of studying under/with/around Alan Heathcock as an undergrad (me, not him!) in many of his fiction classes and a few other workshops. He's a sort of god around these parts. Not even for his ability to write, but first for his ability to teach fiction. For lack of a better explanation, the first person I'll thank when accepting my Pulitzer will be Alan Heathcock.
Let's be honest here, it'll probably be a posthumous Pulitzer, at which point I'll have it written into my will that he's to be the one to accept it on my behalf and must first thank himself, since that would be hilariously (for me, at least) vain and inappropriate, and after all, awkwardness is my legacy.
Now, to the actual book. Well, let me just say the story "Smoke" may be one of the best I've ever read; the ending one of the best ever written. Look, I know it's all subjective (it's not, I'm humoring you), but the story is that good. This collection is that good. It's that simple.
And I'm a judgmental asshole (fact!). If this collection sucked, I'd be so pissed to have been listening to Alan Heathcock's lessons all these years that I'd probably make it my mission to expose him as a huge fraud. He's not though. It has got to be hard to live up to the expectations of hundreds of eager students. He talks some pretty damn good talk, and has now proven he walks it all just as well. He's pretty much a bad-ass. (feel free to put that on a book jacket. Alan Heathcock: pretty much a bad-ass)
The stories aren't always 'fun' to read, but always moving and inspiring and insightful. In class he always taught that our job is to reveal the truth of any given moment. Walking the walk, this collection does exactly that. It's full of truth. Tough truths, at times, hard truths, sad truths, sometimes painful and ugly truths. But always truth.
Some reviews I've read only focus on these 'negative' truths. I can see why: Heathcock is holding up a mirror to us all, so it's no surprise when reviews fixate on how dark and foreboding Volt can be; we're dark and foreboding.
But, but, BUT, this collection isn't all a piss-parade-pity-party. It's full of humanity and life and hope and love, as well. You can't have all the depressing shit without the rest of all this to give it context. Can't have dark, without light; hate, without love (which hand will win?). So, sure, the book is dark, but there's more there for us to find.
Pro-tip: if you can't find it, go outside, get some sun, smile at a stranger, hug a bird, then come back inside and read again. It's there, all the hope and love you could ever want, and it's beautiful.
Actually, you might want to go read The Road again, as you might have missed all the love and hope in that one too, you depressing fucks.
So, in conclusion, Alan Heathcock is awesome. Buy his book. And if you've got any balls or smarts, you might actually read it.
And, before I don't start, I'll admit my bias: I had the pleasure of studying under/with/around Alan Heathcock as an undergrad (me, not him!) in many of his fiction classes and a few other workshops. He's a sort of god around these parts. Not even for his ability to write, but first for his ability to teach fiction. For lack of a better explanation, the first person I'll thank when accepting my Pulitzer will be Alan Heathcock.
Let's be honest here, it'll probably be a posthumous Pulitzer, at which point I'll have it written into my will that he's to be the one to accept it on my behalf and must first thank himself, since that would be hilariously (for me, at least) vain and inappropriate, and after all, awkwardness is my legacy.
Now, to the actual book. Well, let me just say the story "Smoke" may be one of the best I've ever read; the ending one of the best ever written. Look, I know it's all subjective (it's not, I'm humoring you), but the story is that good. This collection is that good. It's that simple.
And I'm a judgmental asshole (fact!). If this collection sucked, I'd be so pissed to have been listening to Alan Heathcock's lessons all these years that I'd probably make it my mission to expose him as a huge fraud. He's not though. It has got to be hard to live up to the expectations of hundreds of eager students. He talks some pretty damn good talk, and has now proven he walks it all just as well. He's pretty much a bad-ass. (feel free to put that on a book jacket. Alan Heathcock: pretty much a bad-ass)
The stories aren't always 'fun' to read, but always moving and inspiring and insightful. In class he always taught that our job is to reveal the truth of any given moment. Walking the walk, this collection does exactly that. It's full of truth. Tough truths, at times, hard truths, sad truths, sometimes painful and ugly truths. But always truth.
Some reviews I've read only focus on these 'negative' truths. I can see why: Heathcock is holding up a mirror to us all, so it's no surprise when reviews fixate on how dark and foreboding Volt can be; we're dark and foreboding.
But, but, BUT, this collection isn't all a piss-parade-pity-party. It's full of humanity and life and hope and love, as well. You can't have all the depressing shit without the rest of all this to give it context. Can't have dark, without light; hate, without love (which hand will win?). So, sure, the book is dark, but there's more there for us to find.
Pro-tip: if you can't find it, go outside, get some sun, smile at a stranger, hug a bird, then come back inside and read again. It's there, all the hope and love you could ever want, and it's beautiful.
Actually, you might want to go read The Road again, as you might have missed all the love and hope in that one too, you depressing fucks.
So, in conclusion, Alan Heathcock is awesome. Buy his book. And if you've got any balls or smarts, you might actually read it.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
When original titles aren't relevant.
I think the biggest mistake I've made in my education, which has now become a big part of my life, is the more I've learned, the more I wanted to teach. In my view, knowledge only becomes meaningful when it's passed on. Now, I'm not saying I've learned it all or am always right, just that I have learned things, and every step of the way have spent a ton of timergy trying to pass on the things I've learned.
I envisioned this blog as a grand statement on writing communities and the sharing of knowledge in a world that is increasingly thankless and self-centered, but I don't even think I have the energy anymore to make such statements. Thus, many paragraphs deleted, the title changed, and something new created (yaaay writing).
I've heard so many stories of writers who look back on their lives and wished they'd been a part of something more. However intangible, they feel they've missed out on something by sitting alone in a room building a legacy for themselves. I've had so many teachers who, with soulless detachment, seem to approach a class like a training day at McDonald's, having little passion or excitement for what they're doing, much less caring about the connections made with people and what can collectively be built.
I didn't want all that. I thankfully had a great role model that was passionate about teaching, in all senses of the word, and even passionate about writing communities and what people can build together, with one another, for one another, not just for themselves. Maybe it was a mistake, and I jumped the gun, but instead of getting to this point through reflecting back on life and wondering where it all went, when it came to writing, at least, I wanted to build myself up in a way that didn't take a lifetime of regret and working alone to wish I'd been more involved.
That was a mistake.
Maybe it wouldn't have been a mistake for others, but it was for me. Dividing myself in half, always willing to give a part of me for the sake of other writers has mostly been met with skepticism at best (who was I? Nobody of note, so back to Stephen King's On Writing). Or, at worst, led to assumptions and accusations. Writers seem an especially... special bunch; as if anytime anyone has anything to share, they're just trying to show you up, ruin your vision, dictate limitations and rules when everyone knows writing is all just an overflow of passion from your soul and entirely subjective anyway that nobody can teach, riiiight?
I dunno, maybe.
And maybe it was arrogant of me to ever think I had any knowledge to share, or pretentious of me to specifically search out writers and communities I saw that were in need of that knowledge. Whether it was being a teaching assistant in lower-level fiction classes, volunteering to lead workshops (and being brushed off, because apparently NO workshop is better), trying to help bolster community reading groups, or frequenting online writing sites, the teacher in me saw a need that even my piddly amount of knowledge could help fill. When others very literally asked why I bothered to 'waste' my time with such endeavors, I naively and perhaps idealistically responded that these were the places I could help the most, as if I was some surgeon in Doctor's Without Boarders, or something.
The truth is, it was a mistake. Both a personal mistake, and professional one, probably. I divided myself, always wanting to take the amazing education, insights and knowledge that was being given to me with one hand, and pass it on with the other hand. What happened, though, is the sharing got me nowhere, and the huge hit to timergy from that sharing and efforting to help other writers surely didn't help me in my own writing, especially with the time commitment, and double-especially when it wasn't my job, so I wasn't getting paid, but in a volunteer capacity.
So, what's my point? I don't know. I'm just tired. So much energy trying to connect with writers, trying to join and help build communities, trying to pass on knowledge and the insights I've been privileged to have access to through both my formal education and my own efforts informing myself. I know I've had it lucky as a writer, so thought the right thing to do wasn't to take and horde and empower only myself, but to give. That was a mistake. Maybe not for everyone, but I believe it was for me.
Hell, focusing on not only becoming the best writer I could be, but the best teacher, didn't even get me into a degree program that would then allow me a job in teaching. I don't know if that means the system is fucked, or it's just me (probably a combination of both), but I can only probably change me, right?
People keep asking me what I'm going to do now, since for the second year I didn't get into the MFA programs I wanted, haven't gotten anything published, am graduating with my English degree with writing emphasis. In a few weeks, I'll literally have no remaining tie to all the things I started because I had a passion for writing and teaching. It will have led me nowhere from a what-are-you-doing-now perspective. I'll have nothing left but myself, and I wonder if it isn't time I corrected the mistakes I've been making, if it isn't time I become the self-centered writer I've always despised, who hordes knowledge, gloats in the privilege that it is to even have the opportunity to write (whether it's in riches or squaller, it's a privilege).
And what else can I do? I've been left with little other opportunity than to be selfish.
Ironically, instead of learning to give of myself, had I just learned to take more of others, I have no doubt I would have increased my chances to then be given the opportunities I've been denied that would enable me to give to others. Meaning, had I focused selfishing on my own writing from the start, I'd have had a better chance to have gotten into an MFA program, where, if I'd then also selfishly focused on my own writing only, probably also increased the chance of being given a position to teach at some point down the line. And, then, I guess, is when we start hoping such writers learn to give, learn to teach, learn to not just selfishly continuing their own careers, considering a professorship little more than one more line on their resume?
It's the irony of our society, perhaps, and may be worse with writers (everything is worse with writers), but when someone has something to give, we instinctively doubt their worthy to give it. And when someone does nothing but take, we somehow deem them worthy of positions of giving. The movie Office Space, like everything, is funny because it's true. Maybe it's noble, the hope that if we give to those who only take, they'll learn to give. But that doesn't explain how most people I know who live to give get shit on, used up and worn out until they give up giving and learn to take... at which point perhaps they're given the chance to give, but at what cost?
Hilariously, I'm aware of the irony of this post (of my life). A nobody writer writes about his unsuccessful efforts going unknown and leading nowhere. If a writer tries to teach something in the woods, but nobody gives a shit, because he's nobody, which is why you aren't listening in the first place, does he even make a sound? Nope, he doesn't. The first thing he learns to take is a hint. ;)
I envisioned this blog as a grand statement on writing communities and the sharing of knowledge in a world that is increasingly thankless and self-centered, but I don't even think I have the energy anymore to make such statements. Thus, many paragraphs deleted, the title changed, and something new created (yaaay writing).
I've heard so many stories of writers who look back on their lives and wished they'd been a part of something more. However intangible, they feel they've missed out on something by sitting alone in a room building a legacy for themselves. I've had so many teachers who, with soulless detachment, seem to approach a class like a training day at McDonald's, having little passion or excitement for what they're doing, much less caring about the connections made with people and what can collectively be built.
I didn't want all that. I thankfully had a great role model that was passionate about teaching, in all senses of the word, and even passionate about writing communities and what people can build together, with one another, for one another, not just for themselves. Maybe it was a mistake, and I jumped the gun, but instead of getting to this point through reflecting back on life and wondering where it all went, when it came to writing, at least, I wanted to build myself up in a way that didn't take a lifetime of regret and working alone to wish I'd been more involved.
That was a mistake.
Maybe it wouldn't have been a mistake for others, but it was for me. Dividing myself in half, always willing to give a part of me for the sake of other writers has mostly been met with skepticism at best (who was I? Nobody of note, so back to Stephen King's On Writing). Or, at worst, led to assumptions and accusations. Writers seem an especially... special bunch; as if anytime anyone has anything to share, they're just trying to show you up, ruin your vision, dictate limitations and rules when everyone knows writing is all just an overflow of passion from your soul and entirely subjective anyway that nobody can teach, riiiight?
I dunno, maybe.
And maybe it was arrogant of me to ever think I had any knowledge to share, or pretentious of me to specifically search out writers and communities I saw that were in need of that knowledge. Whether it was being a teaching assistant in lower-level fiction classes, volunteering to lead workshops (and being brushed off, because apparently NO workshop is better), trying to help bolster community reading groups, or frequenting online writing sites, the teacher in me saw a need that even my piddly amount of knowledge could help fill. When others very literally asked why I bothered to 'waste' my time with such endeavors, I naively and perhaps idealistically responded that these were the places I could help the most, as if I was some surgeon in Doctor's Without Boarders, or something.
The truth is, it was a mistake. Both a personal mistake, and professional one, probably. I divided myself, always wanting to take the amazing education, insights and knowledge that was being given to me with one hand, and pass it on with the other hand. What happened, though, is the sharing got me nowhere, and the huge hit to timergy from that sharing and efforting to help other writers surely didn't help me in my own writing, especially with the time commitment, and double-especially when it wasn't my job, so I wasn't getting paid, but in a volunteer capacity.
So, what's my point? I don't know. I'm just tired. So much energy trying to connect with writers, trying to join and help build communities, trying to pass on knowledge and the insights I've been privileged to have access to through both my formal education and my own efforts informing myself. I know I've had it lucky as a writer, so thought the right thing to do wasn't to take and horde and empower only myself, but to give. That was a mistake. Maybe not for everyone, but I believe it was for me.
Hell, focusing on not only becoming the best writer I could be, but the best teacher, didn't even get me into a degree program that would then allow me a job in teaching. I don't know if that means the system is fucked, or it's just me (probably a combination of both), but I can only probably change me, right?
People keep asking me what I'm going to do now, since for the second year I didn't get into the MFA programs I wanted, haven't gotten anything published, am graduating with my English degree with writing emphasis. In a few weeks, I'll literally have no remaining tie to all the things I started because I had a passion for writing and teaching. It will have led me nowhere from a what-are-you-doing-now perspective. I'll have nothing left but myself, and I wonder if it isn't time I corrected the mistakes I've been making, if it isn't time I become the self-centered writer I've always despised, who hordes knowledge, gloats in the privilege that it is to even have the opportunity to write (whether it's in riches or squaller, it's a privilege).
And what else can I do? I've been left with little other opportunity than to be selfish.
Ironically, instead of learning to give of myself, had I just learned to take more of others, I have no doubt I would have increased my chances to then be given the opportunities I've been denied that would enable me to give to others. Meaning, had I focused selfishing on my own writing from the start, I'd have had a better chance to have gotten into an MFA program, where, if I'd then also selfishly focused on my own writing only, probably also increased the chance of being given a position to teach at some point down the line. And, then, I guess, is when we start hoping such writers learn to give, learn to teach, learn to not just selfishly continuing their own careers, considering a professorship little more than one more line on their resume?
It's the irony of our society, perhaps, and may be worse with writers (everything is worse with writers), but when someone has something to give, we instinctively doubt their worthy to give it. And when someone does nothing but take, we somehow deem them worthy of positions of giving. The movie Office Space, like everything, is funny because it's true. Maybe it's noble, the hope that if we give to those who only take, they'll learn to give. But that doesn't explain how most people I know who live to give get shit on, used up and worn out until they give up giving and learn to take... at which point perhaps they're given the chance to give, but at what cost?
Hilariously, I'm aware of the irony of this post (of my life). A nobody writer writes about his unsuccessful efforts going unknown and leading nowhere. If a writer tries to teach something in the woods, but nobody gives a shit, because he's nobody, which is why you aren't listening in the first place, does he even make a sound? Nope, he doesn't. The first thing he learns to take is a hint. ;)
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Yeargency (pronunced 'yer-gents-see)
When it comes to literary terms, I feel most of them should be terminal, dying a lonely death and never being heard from again. I mean, we get shitastic cliches like 'show don't tell' (a concept I'm proud to have blogviscerated, and yes, I'm going to that post every time until the world realizes they're embarrassing themselves by repeating that fecalrific mantra) or people who think saying 'your characterization was lacking, but I can't exactly say how' is engaged feedback of a manuscript. But yeargency is a term I think deserves a stay of execution.
What it is? Well, a wise man once told me that all great stories will have urgency and yearning. In my opinion (or he probably told me this too) urgency is built through yearning. When a character wants something, only then do we care what happens, as the character then has something to gain or lose. And when we care about a character, the relationship between what the character wants and the road blocks in the way of him getting it then creates urgency. It will feel like something is at stake, because, get this: there is something at stake (readers aint dumb).
So, yeargency. DO IT NOW PLEASE!
And I'm serious. On page one the reader should have some idea something is at stake. You don't have to spell it out for us (readers aint dumb), but it needs to be there. If your character is pining for a lost love, he doesn't need to think boy, I'm really experiencing pining for my lost love but he sure as shit better seem like he's pining for something or that something is missing and he's a likely piner.
We can learn later that it's lost love, since not all characters even know what they yearn for. But don't give me 10 pages of the character noticing all sorts of details about a bar and people's hair and talking to strangers and quipping wittily and then boom, he thinks boy, I miss my girl and all this time I've been pining for lost love.
Bullshit. That's not real pining... that's more pine in the sense of coffins, a pine box, because your story will feel dead and then the only thing at stake will be hoping a vampire is inside the coffin because any moron (or millions) will buy the story if it gots Vampars!(and there's a vampire-stake pun you may have missed).
So, in conclusion, stop writing shitty stories.
Every scene ask yourself what your character wants, what he'll do to get it, and what will stand in his way causing the character to go onto the next scene, still wanting, still doing, and still perhaps not getting. If you manage this in every scene then the story will at the very least feel urgent. Even if it doesn't all add up in the end, it at least won't feel like a collapse 'the point is there is no point' level waste of time. And hell, being mildly interesting is an important first step in the growth of a writer!
But, if each scene of your story doesn't have urgency, then please refer back to my conclusion, then, like a flow chart, continuing reading and re-reading until referring to my conclusion no longer applies... well, as much, and only until my next blog.
What it is? Well, a wise man once told me that all great stories will have urgency and yearning. In my opinion (or he probably told me this too) urgency is built through yearning. When a character wants something, only then do we care what happens, as the character then has something to gain or lose. And when we care about a character, the relationship between what the character wants and the road blocks in the way of him getting it then creates urgency. It will feel like something is at stake, because, get this: there is something at stake (readers aint dumb).
So, yeargency. DO IT NOW PLEASE!
And I'm serious. On page one the reader should have some idea something is at stake. You don't have to spell it out for us (readers aint dumb), but it needs to be there. If your character is pining for a lost love, he doesn't need to think boy, I'm really experiencing pining for my lost love but he sure as shit better seem like he's pining for something or that something is missing and he's a likely piner.
We can learn later that it's lost love, since not all characters even know what they yearn for. But don't give me 10 pages of the character noticing all sorts of details about a bar and people's hair and talking to strangers and quipping wittily and then boom, he thinks boy, I miss my girl and all this time I've been pining for lost love.
Bullshit. That's not real pining... that's more pine in the sense of coffins, a pine box, because your story will feel dead and then the only thing at stake will be hoping a vampire is inside the coffin because any moron (or millions) will buy the story if it gots Vampars!(and there's a vampire-stake pun you may have missed).
So, in conclusion, stop writing shitty stories.
Every scene ask yourself what your character wants, what he'll do to get it, and what will stand in his way causing the character to go onto the next scene, still wanting, still doing, and still perhaps not getting. If you manage this in every scene then the story will at the very least feel urgent. Even if it doesn't all add up in the end, it at least won't feel like a collapse 'the point is there is no point' level waste of time. And hell, being mildly interesting is an important first step in the growth of a writer!
But, if each scene of your story doesn't have urgency, then please refer back to my conclusion, then, like a flow chart, continuing reading and re-reading until referring to my conclusion no longer applies... well, as much, and only until my next blog.
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