Showing posts with label hidden literary techniques. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hidden literary techniques. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Digging Deep Without Hitting the Gas Line


Sharon encouraged us to dig deep as writers. It amazes me how frequently my “fight or flight” instinct kicks in on behalf of my characters.
Over the years, I’ve gotten better (I hope) at recognizing those moments and steering into traffic instead of swerving to the curb. Here are three reasons and three techniques for digging deep in your writing.

1)   Speak to your reader. Reason one for digging deep as a writer is so that you can reach out to your reader and say what they need to hear. You can’t do that if you skim the surface, write tip-of-the-brain plots and scenes. It’s the difference between a chat around the water cooler, and a conversation that runs deep into the night.

       2) Stop lying to yourself. Last year, I wrote a blog post about how reading fiction brings us closer to our true experience as human beings. “Fiction is the story of you living a different life in order to be able to see yourself in a new way and make sense out of the life you are living.

You’re broken.
You’re hiding it.
And it’s making you crazy.
Fiction says, “Welcome home.’”

A writer will never truly become a writer until she can face her humanity full on and tell the truth without trying to justify it.

3) The more personal the pain, the more universal it is. That stuff you’re ashamed of? So are we. We all have those charred marbles rolling around in our souls, those broken off pieces, long dead yet still so powerfully able to bend us low. Those questions you have—more like doubts, really—yeah, we’ve all got them. The skilled writer takes the reader by the hand, walks her into the pain, and teaches how to stare it down. And don’t you want to be that kind of writer?

Here are three techniques for digging deep.

1)   Listen to the scene. You’re writing and things are flowing, then BANG, you hit a wall. The words dry up and you’re scrambling to push through to the end of the scene. Most often the reason your creative tap turned off is because you fudged a deep truth, a difficult reality in order to preserve your emotional distance from the scene. Go back and pin point where you hedged or skimmed when you knew the right thing to do was tell a stark truth. Likely, it will take the scene in a different direction (maybe even the story) then you intended, but your intentions don’t matter. The story matters.
2)   Read your work aloud. There are a million good reasons for doing this frequently: you spot typos, missing words, misspellings. You also will hear places where you’re lying to yourself. Say the words aloud and if they are true, you’ll hear that truth ringing clear. Fudged, shallow words? You’ll hear that too.
3)   Kill off the bad nouns. “Terror”, “horror”, “hysteria”—kill them all. I’ve read sentences like, “Her heart filled with dread.” Um. Gee. That’s too bad. Maybe she should look at getting that fixed. Now, before you jump on the “here’s how to show and not tell” bandwagon, let me stop you there. People’s hearts filling with dread is never the point. It’s too late by then. What’s important are the few seconds just before her heart filled with dread. What was going on then? What clues were in the room that let her in on the fact that dread was knocking on the door? Write that. No pat phrases, no emotional shorthand.

Here’s your Novel Matters Assignment, should you choose to accept it: Write/read through your WIP—as much as you dare—and follow these three techniques. I follow them and its made a huge difference in my storytelling. Share your additional ideas/experiences in the comments section!

Friday, March 12, 2010

Hiding in Plain Sight

(I was going to put clues all through today's post encouraging you aspiring novelists to enter our "Audience with an Agent" contest. But I need to tell you plainly: In today's precarious publishing atmosphere, if you can enter a contest where concerned cheerleader-type authors (that's us at NovelMatters) will vet your winning novel before a top agent -- you should just do it!)

As Katy’s stimulating post on Wednesday demonstrated, people love the challenge of a mystery, and they like being led down all manner of misleading paths if they’re rewarded with a good surprise at the end.

We also have a fascination with clues and messages hidden in media. Remember all the uproar over the rumor that “Paul is dead,” supposedly a hidden message in a Beatles album—if you played it backwards? And just this week Carly Simon revealed (also via a “backwards” recording) the identity of the man about whom she sang, “You’re so vain, you probably think this song is about you.”

Other creative people have done this too: Al Hirshfield hid his daughter’s name, Nina, in his drawings, Alfred Hitchcock inserted cameos of himself in his films, and computer programmers put in “easter egg” messages in games and other programs. Fans find great delight in locating such elements.

Novelists and other writers include hidden elements in their writing. James Joyce paralleled the Odyssey in one of his books. And the Bible uses structural techniques that often go over the heads of modern readers, such as the acrostics that are clearly marked with Hebrew letters in Psalm 119 and not marked in eight other psalms (9-10; 25; 34; 37; 111; 112; and 145.)

Recently I used an ancient technique known as chiasmus in my WIP (chiasmus is a list that appears forward and then backward.) The point of any “hidden” element is that it doesn’t draw attention to itself, but brings delight or satisfaction when it’s discovered.

Have you discovered what you believe to be an intentionally “hidden” element or structure in a novel? Anybody out there brave enough to have written such a hidden aspect into your own work?