Wednesday, January 30, 2008

The art of withholding information

Veteran fiction writers will say that one of the biggest mistakes newbie writers make is the "information dump." It's when you dump huge chunks of a character's backstory in the first few pages because -- newbies believe -- the information provides important insights into a character's motivation.

I was guilty of it in my first (unfinished) manuscript. I didn't realize HOW guilty of it I was until I got a critique from a published author. She crossed out six pages of my first chapter with a red pen and wrote in the margins, "Backstory. Save it for later."

The critique left me sputtering. But...but...but... How can my readers possibly care about the character if they don't know X,Y, and Z about her? How can they possibly understand why she does what she does if they don't know those things? What if they think badly of her for doing what she does if they don't know THIS?! (There are many ways to make readers care about your characters without a shred of backstory, but that's a post for another day.)

I was reminded of that lesson today after watching, "Eastern Promises," starring Oscar nominee Viggo Mortenson. Viggo plays a dark character -- a member of a very violent Russian mob that runs a sex slave operation. I won't offer too many details because I don't want to spoil it for people who haven't seen the movie yet. But let me say this: You discover something about his character in the last 15 minutes of the movie that puts an entirely new twist on his actions, his motivation and his decisions. It was the kind of revelation that made me say right out loud, "Oh, you're kidding me, right? How could I have NOT seen that coming?"

I admire the movie-makers on this one for fighting the temptation to reveal this crucial tidbit much earlier in the movie. If I had known this particular thing earlier, the movie would have lost its darkness and its suspense. And -- guess what? Even without knowing this piece of information, I still developed enough of a connection with Viggo's character to care what happened to him.

It's a good lesson for fiction writers. Readers want to know the answers to all their questions. But if you offer those answers too early, you take away the reader's incentive for reading the rest of the book. You steal them of their own, "Oh, you're kidding me, right?"

I once came across a quote (supposedly) by Mark Twain. He said, "Storytelling is not the art of revealing information. It's the art of withholding information." Exactly.

WRITING TIP
When you're developing a new character or outlining a new book, play a game with yourself. Pick a crucial bit of backstory and plant the "revelation scene" in several different chapters. Keep moving it farther and farther into the story. Each time you move it, ask yourself how that delayed revelation changes the story. Does it add suspense? Does it allow you to create greater tension?

Saturday, January 26, 2008

For love of the words

Every published author I know says that they eventually reached a point in their lives when they "got serious" about their writing. It was a point when they decided that writing would no longer simply be a hobby that they dabbled in whenever life gave them a free moment, but would instead become a priority with a goal of one day becoming published.

I made that decision five years ago. Writing would no longer be something I did in secret or isolation with a only vague dream of one day being a published fiction author. I decided I would do whatever it took to study my craft, become familiar with the business, and pursue publication.

I joined Romance Writers of America and started volunteering for the Orange County Chapter. I invested in a new computer and research books. I attended conferences, found critique partners, set page-count goals, and immersed myself in learning as much as I could about the business end of being a writer. I sacrificed many a Saturday with my husband so I could write. I tried different stories, different plotting methods. I started and stopped four books before finally settling on my current project.

Today, I am closer to achieving my goal than I ever would have been had I not made that very crucial decision and done all those things.

But I am learning that there is a small downside to the pursuit. Sometimes, in our zeal to get published, we forget to study and enjoy our craft. And THAT can have devastating effects -- some of which I am suffering from right now.

I have been so narrowly focused on achieving my publishing goals for the past sixth months that I am exhausted of all creative energy. I have one more round of revisions to do on my manuscript before it will be ready to shop around. I know what I need to do, but I simply cannot get it done. I sit down at my computer and... Just stare. I check e-mail. Read my favorite blogs. Check e-mail again. Scan the headlines on CNN.com. Go get myself a Coke. Stare at the screen some more.

You get the picture.

I never used to believe in writer's block. I suppose I was influenced by a wise college journalism professor who said, "There is no such thing as writer's block. There is only bad reporting." That proved to be true many times in my journalism career, but I don't think it's true in fiction. I've done my "reporting" for this book. I just can't seem to finish writing it.

Bottom line: I'm tired. So many late nights. So many early mornings. So many "I'll just write for fifteen minutes while the baby is busy with her Disney Princesses." I'm just simply worn out.

Fatigue can be a writer's greatest enemy, and not for the reasons you might think. Sure, it's hard to craft elegant prose when you're exhausted. But fatigue is dangerous for a much larger reason: It can make you resent your book. It can make you resent the very act of writing.

But this morning, I had a bit of an epiphany. I was searching for something to read while eating breakfast, and I grabbed "Pen on Fire: A Busy Woman's Guide to Igniting the Writer Within," by writing instructor Barbara DeMarco-Barrett. It's a collection of inspirational and practical lessons on, you guessed it, writing.

I opened it randomly, because it's the kind of book you don't have to read in order. I started reading a section about how to use the events of your own life to enrich your writing. By the end of breakfast, a wonderful thing had happened to me. For the first time in weeks, I didn't dread the thought of writing. In fact, I was eager to get into my office, turn the computer on and GO.

But here's the catch. I wasn't eager to delve into my manuscript revisions. I just simply wanted to write. Not for publication. Not to meet some kind of deadline. Not to keep my friends from whispering behind my back about will I EVER finish the damn book. No. I wanted to write just because I love words. I love them and the emotions they can evoke. I love the power of words and the potential of words.

I haven't felt that way in quite a while. So here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to give myself permission to spend the next couple of days just playing at my craft. I'm going to tackle a couple of the exercises in Pen on Fire and just try to enjoy the art of it.

I hope that by allowing myself to do this, I will free up some of the clutter and stress that is blocking my progress. Come Monday, I predict I will be more than ready to jump into those revisions.