Be Brave and Experiment On

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 Bonnie's year end round up was a terrific way to draw our 2013 Carpe Annum to a close. So much wisdom and brain power in the same writing space! If you’re like me, one piece of advice stood out and made you say Oh, yes! Of course! Why hadn’t I thought of it and/or why had I forgotten it?  

While all of our interviews shared amazing insights, this statement by Julie Cantrell caused me to palm-smack myself in the forehead: 
 “I’m begging you… write as if no one will ever read it. That’s the only way you’ll find your true, original voice and feel free enough to reach the level of honesty readers really crave.”  
This is a powerful statement with many possible implications. I’ve been here before, and I’ll bet you have, too. 

How would I know whether or not I write in my true, original voice? 

If I don’t have it, how can I be sure when I find it?

How free do I want to be? Am I willing to go to that level of honesty?

What if no one likes the one and only original me?

Some of these are legitimate concerns and some are just plain whining with old-fashioned avoidance mixed in.  Ahem.
  We all want to be the best writers we can be, so we gird our loins and wade into the fray. To start the process, we could read aloud a passage from one of our manuscripts, shutting out the voices criticizing our words and refusing to wrestle with the real or imagined expectations of friends and family. This is not easily done.  We could write this one short passage over several times, allowing ourselves to be more fearless with each attempt. After all, we've promised ourselves that no one will ever read it. We can afford to write with abandon in private.  Repeat after me: "I have nothing to lose and everything to gain."

If we find our true, original voices, will we have the courage to use them? We writers are sensitive creatures. Will we expose ourselves to criticism if our true voices aren’t what others expect?  Or will we find that readers click with our honesty and devour our stories?  

Think of the most honest, original voice you’ve enjoyed reading. Was it safe? Was it like all the others? I’ll bet it kept you engaged and made you crave the next book.  Wouldn’t it be great if readers said that about our stories? The possibility makes it worth taking chances on ourselves.

Do you have the courage to find your true, original voice? We’d love to hear about your progress. Be brave and experiment on.
 

Let it all hang out? Uh, no! A Roundtable Discussion

I love April. Next to November, it’s my favorite month. Just wanted to get that off my chest.

I really enjoyed Debbie’s post on Wednesday, April 3. She talked about how we, as writers, need to trust our readers and not spell everything out for them in minute detail. She added a couple of great quotes. This from Hemingway: "If a writer of prose knows enough about what he is writing about he may omit things that he knows and the reader, if the writer is writing truly enough, will have a feeling of those things as strongly as though the writer had stated them."

And this from Les Edgerton, author of Finding Your Voice: "The writer should provide the "bones" or skeleton of the story and the reader furnishes the flesh..."

Wonderful advice from both.

For the past 2 or 3 years I’ve enjoyed the privilege of judging writing contests, one which is sponsored for unpublished writers. The biggest mistake new writers make, in my opinion, is exactly what Hemingway and Edgerton were talking about: All too often, new writers in particular don’t trust the reader. They feel they must tell everything they know about the characters and their plight – often on the first page – rather than allowing the reader to DISCOVER. And isn’t that what reading is all about, discovery? They give huge information dumps, and if we’re at all invested in the story, we have to sift through all that superfluous stuff to find the valuable. But the big risk these writers take is that we won’t become invested. Not even a little. I find myself in a strange place these days where time is concerned. It feels more precious than ever to me, and what spare time I have for reading is going to be spent on jewels, not junk. Sorry if that's harsh.

Sharon, I too have judged contests (mainly poetry, but sometimes those of novels too.) I have found that the problem isn't too much backstory. I found that what kills the chances of most contest entrants fall into two categories:  1) It looks and sounds unprofessional -- usually because of non-standard formatting, or other amateurish marks like poor punctuation, spelling, and grammar;  and 2) It's not interesting.

Now, that may sound harsh, too. But the writer is taking a tremendous risk -- a risk that the reader will keep reading to try to find a gem inside their writing. Perhaps relatives will. Perhaps friends will. But an editor just won't. If after a page or two there is no spark, there is no further reading. After all, the editor or judge didn't invest in that book, and he or she can throw it away without a second thought.

 I'm more convinced than ever, from my own writing journey and from reading for contests at conferences, etc., that the first issue of new writers is rushing. Rushing to get to the end (e.g. posting: I wrote 8,000 words today! And then not going back and really editing those words for voice, timeline, plot, structure), rushing the story--hence the backstory download--and rushing to put that story into the hands of an agent. I've sat across from writers who I have had to tell, "You have some good ideas, but no plot." The writers who are writers, the ones who will make it, usually express that they understand and will let these ideas simmer longer and wait for the story to form. Others get upset with me. I once had a writer complain to conference organizers about me because when she plopped her 300 page memoir down I hadn't had the "decency" to read a few pages (while she sat there watching, inside of the 15 minute appointment she had booked with me), and then I had the "nerve" to tell her that memoirs require a plot, the same as fiction, and that they need to be about something specific, not simply snippets of life stories strung together by long, loose threads. I said all of this gently, but she said I had been rude. The truth is hard to swallow when you've got a "finished" manuscript that you've worked so hard on. I get that. But a writer shrugs at all those hours of work and says, I can do better.

She got me back, though. As she stood to leave our little table she told me she had an appointment with D___________ (insert name of important publisher) and she would prove everything I told her was wrong.

When I graduated with a degree in English Literature and Elementary Education, I skipped off to teach  a roomful of fourth-grade students, believing I was prepared to make that year the best learning year of their lives. I was almost right. It was a great year of learning, for me! And I kept on learning the art of teaching and still do. When I plunged into writing, I had a trophy case of As to prove some really smart people thought I could write. That wasn't enough either. And the books I read on fiction writing or a clinic or two I attended weren't the beginning and end of making me into a writer. It takes TONS of practice.

My biggest mistake--and I still struggle with this, although I'm getting better--was not giving my characters enough conflict, interior and exterior. This is the mistake I see in the contests I judge. The result is a story where nothing happens. Boring! We want to be nice to our characters and show them in their best light. Conflict doesn't develop at all, or it's resolved too quickly and easily.
We need to get real.

 The mistake I've seen most often, as Bonnie observed, is the rushing.  Rushing to put the proposal in the mail, rushing to pitch the story to an editor, rushing to find a shortcut to publishing.  I think it's destined to increase with the rush to self-publish.  An author who has already sold a book to a publisher and gone through the experience of edits, rewrites, and marketing has an education under her belt.  She knows the value of hiring an editor and not cutting corners that compromise the integrity of the work.  But even for a published author, self-publishing is uncharted territory.  That doesn't mean that you shouldn't self-publish, but don't rush the process.  Get a professional opinion.  There are many legitimate editorial services available. Read through it one more time, and if at any point - ANY - point in your manuscript you stumble over a word choice or have to stop and clarify something or you yawn, it's time to at least do some tweaking, and possibly a bigger rewrite..  Never accept 'good enough.'

Tip of the Iceberg

I felt myself being absorbed by this beautiful artwork displayed on the wall near our booth in Mimi's Cafe recently.  It is Philip Craig's Lavender Fields. I put my fork down to study it.

I love his choice of color and the peace this scene exudes. You can almost smell the lavender breath, see the bees flying their dance. I want to follow that row straight into the villa in the distance, find a chair and watch the people go by.  The muted, indistinct edges of color invite me to connect the dots in my own way, drawing me in, like I was participating in the painting of it, interpreting it for myself.  It's not work - but discovery.

I think this is why I like reading the style of writing that Hemingway termed in his iceberg theory.  (at least, a variation of it)  He said, "If a writer of prose knows enough about what he is writing about he may omit things that he knows and the reader, if the writer is writing truly enough, will have a feeling of those things as strongly as though the writer had stated them.  The dignity of movement of an iceberg is due to only the one-eighth of it being above water."

Okay, that's saying a mouthful.  So we don't take the reader by the hand and explain everything. We trust readers to get what we're saying. I like what Les Edgerton adds about the iceberg theory in his book, Finding Your Voice. "The writer should provide the "bones" or skeleton of the story and the reader furnishes the flesh..."  To do otherwise dumbs down the writing and makes for boring, passive reading. In other words, it makes lazy readers of us.

I like something in between the minimalist Hemingway style and the style of writing that doesn't quite trust the reader. I like a wee bit of flesh on the bones, as in this passage from David Guterson's Snow Falling on Cedars. This scene comes at the end of the first chapter, so we haven't had time to learn about the characters. (I've shortened it for brevity) The local reporter has been sent to cover a murder trial in their small coastal community:

At ten minutes before nine that morning, Ishmael has spoken with the accused man's wife on the second floor of the Island County courthouse..."Are you all right?" he'd said to her, but she'd responded by turning away from him.  "Please," he'd said.  "Please Hatsue."...

 "Go away," she'd said in a whisper, and then for a moment she'd glared..."Go away," repeated Hatsue Miyamoto.  Then she'd turned her eyes, once again, from his.  

"Don't be like this," said Ishmael.

"Go away," she'd answered.

That's how their scene ends. We deduce that Ishmael and Hatsue have known each other but we don't know what their relationship has been. We know her husband's life may be at stake. They speak with a veiled intimacy that is implied rather than explained. It's the tip of the iceberg, and we discover what lies beneath as the story unfolds.

I think this is why I dread the unavoidable information dump that happens with a book series.  The writer must bring the new reader up to speed in some fashion, and I guess there's no graceful way around rocking the iceberg.

How about you?  How much flesh do you want on story bones?  Is it work or pleasure? We'd love to hear.