Novels are Too Big to Write

novels

Novels are Too Big to Write

Many writers are daunted by the thought of tackling a novel. Takes too much time, I don’t know how to do it, I don’t have the creativity for a whole novel, etc. etc.

What do you like to read? If you live exclusively on a diet of short stories, you can skip this post. But if you also read novels, why aren’t you writing what you like to read? Because, it takes too much time, I don’t know how, yada, yada, yada.

But here’s a secret that famous authors such as Alice Munro and Carol Shields know.

Long pieces of writing are made up of short pieces somehow sewn together. [1]

I know Alice Munro is known mainly for short stories but her novels, e.g. Lives of Girls and Women, are a series of long short stories woven together.

Novels are little stories sewn together

The problem is that, as a reader, good novels don’t feel like just a series of short stories hung together. They flow, they have a plot which runs the course of the novel, they feel as if they have sprung out of the head of the author as one perfect piece.

They have not. Okay, maybe there is a Mozart equivalent who can go directly from head to finished product, but for everyone else, it’s a more piecemeal activity.

I’m going to break down an example in quite a mechanical way just to show you how it’s done.

An example—Martha, the ruthless

Martha, a ruthless, self-absorbed woman, walks over everyone at work and at home. The novel will end with Martha getting her comeuppance. What are the little scenes you need to write?

Establish Martha character

Near the beginning, you need a scene where Martha shows her character. So, what event or situation would demonstrate this? Humiliating a young colleague in front of co-workers? If important, you also need a scene of Martha being destructive in her personal life.

What happens to this character?

She identifies her goal (getting her boss’ job?). Show how she comes to that decision.
She trades on her boss’ weaknesses. She sets him up to look indecisive or incompetent to his boss. Probably need a series of scenes on how she engineers this. As the big boss probably needs more than one incident to decide that Martha’s boss has to go, she sets these up, too. Also several scenes.
Is it smooth sailing for Martha or does she run into shoals? Shoals are always more interesting. Who or what might impede her? Does her boss catch on? Need a scene where he realizes this. Does he need to make sure he’s right? Another scene where he tests his hypothesis.

How does she get her comeuppance?

How does her downfall come about? Who is doing it and why? Scene needed. What is the plot to bring her down? A series of scenes. How does the comeuppance roll out? A big climactic scene.

As I said, this description is more mechanical than the writing process would actually go. I did this only to show how a story can be broken down into a series of scenes, all of which are manageable length. Writing them puts you on the road to a novel. There is, however, how you sew the scenes together into a novel. Next post.

[1] Shields, Carol, Startle and Illuminate: Carol Shields on Writing Random House, Canada, 2006 p.24

October 30, 2020October 28, 2020

Write What You Want to Read

I know we all want to write works with Big Thoughts and Deep Conclusions. Because when we read these types of novel, they inspire us with what is possible.

But news—I think novels whose writer started out by thinking, ‘Right, this is going to be Big and Deep and Meaningful,’ often (I would say ‘always’ but I don’t want to exaggerate), end up with works which are also pedantic, boring, stilted, and forced. How come?

Well, pedantic because the writer (let’s call him Tom to save me typing and getting caught in the his/her thing)—so, Tom—because he has already decided the message he wants to convey, can easily slip into Telling rather than Showing, exposition, and even lecturing. While telling and exposition can have their place in a novel, their overuse will bore the reader.

In addition, since Tom has decided what he wants you to think, an efficient—I’m not saying effective—way to do it is have his characters spout his philosophy. Which often leads to stilted set pieces which don’t come out of the character’s personality and growth, but straight from Tom himself. So, we have an airhead character suddenly quoting Spinoza accompanied by a thoughtful reflection on his application to her life.

Same with plot. Because of Tom’s plan, he must often twist the plot line to meet his objectives. The hero purposely goes to a rough part of town so that he can be beaten up so that he can wax philosophical on the brutality of humankind.

Write what turns your crank

What do you typically read? Mystery, romance, scifi, westerns? Each genre has its own rules—I’ve talked about the rules of mystery in a previous post—and if you already read that genre, you have an instinctive understanding of it. You have a leg up when you start to write as you already know something of the typical settings, characters, plots, and actions.

If you are trying to decide what to write, at least start out there. I have a mystery novel hidden in a sock drawer which will never see the light of day but from which I nevertheless learned a huge amount about writing and myself as a writer.

Shouldn’t I be aiming for higher? Or lower?

I know there is still a niggle. Shouldn’t I be trying for Greater Things? Or alternately, shouldn’t I be aiming for a more commercial market?

Here’s the thing—you can start out with a project based on what you like to read and as you progress, the magic that is writing will help shape your views. For example, writing the mystery novel made me realize that I was impatient with the need, inherent in mysteries, for the characters to be assigned roles such as victim, murderer, suspect, detective, and sidekick. I wanted to be able to play more with their growth or decay.

Similarly, if you read only Booker and other literary prize winners, start trying to emulate what you admire. You may end up being the next Jane Austen or you may find that the novel is turning into a comedy.

What matters is not where you start but where you end. And the truth that you tell along the way. I leave the last words to Carol Shields.

Straining for seriousness almost invariably looks bogus while simple adherence to the truth does not.” [1]

[1] Shields, Carol, Startle and Illuminate: Carol Shields on Writing Random House, Canada, 2006 p. 19

September 18, 2020June 5, 2020

Does my Ending Work?

What ending you choose for your novel can make or break it. And where it should end. This post is about whether the ending you have written works.

Now, whether it works is to some extent in the eye of the beholder, so take everything I say with a grain of salt. Your finale may not work according to this post but does according to your readers. Go with your readers. These are only guidelines.

Ending types

Although types of endings can be parsed in many ways, I am going to concentrate on two.

Inevitability

I certainly know the feeling. I’m coming to the end of the novel. I know the hero is going to get his comeuppance but I’m dreading it. I want him to succeed even though I know that everything is stacked against him. I’m yelling at the page, “Don’t do it! Don’t do it!” But he does and suffers the fate I feared for him.

With this type of story, even though you may not be happy with the ending, it is nevertheless satisfying and feels correct.

Surprise

The opposite but equally satisfying ending is unexpected for the reader. The story proceeds so that the reader thinks she knows where things are going. And then the conclusion is not what was anticipated.

For this ending to work, the novel has to be constructed so that the hero’s startling choice makes sense. That is, there have to be clues throughout the novel that he might choose the unexpected path but you have cleverly disguised them so that the reader doesn’t notice them while reading.

If you don’t do that, you run the risk of your reader tossing the whole book because the ending seems to come out of the blue and therefore is not credible. Establishing once again that Fiction is Not Life.

What doesn’t usually work

Deus ex machina

It literally means a god from a machine since plays in Ancient Greece used a crane to create the illusion of the gods descending from the heavens (did you really want to know this?). Anyhow, in present day fiction, it means an unexpected event which saves a hopeless situation. Your hero has to choose between his fiancée and the woman he is falling in love with (yes, Downton Abbey). Luckily, the fiancée gets the Spanish flu and is carried off by it. You can just see that crane yanking the fiancée out of the picture.

Seeing it coming from a mile away

On the one hand, with inevitability endings, you want the increasing doom (usually doom—happy is different—see below) to build over the course of the novel. Each action the hero takes pushes him down the inexorable path. On the other hand, you need to tread a fine line. Inevitability becomes boring and predictable and not worth reading if the reader can forecast the ending half-way through. You need to build tension without hitting the reader over the head with what’s coming. Not easy.

Happily ever after

I’m sorry, but as I pointed out previously, happy endings have rather fallen out of literary favor. I’m not saying it’s right but there you are. If the prince proposes to the surprised young thing and they live happily ever after—it’s all too pat for the modern reader. If you really really want a happy ending, you’d probably be better off trying to write a happy ending with a surprise finish. Give it a try but don’t say I didn’t tell you.

September 11, 2020June 5, 2020

Will the Ship Sink? Creating Tension

I know a writing book showed me a way to create tension but I can’t remember which one. But I pass the tip on anyway. To wit: every scene in a novel has to end with a question whose answer might imperil or impede the hero’s success (my definition). Doesn’t have to be a big question or an astounding solution. Just has to be one. This unknown writing book author’s capsule phrase was will the ship sink?

An example

You can do a story and not have any tension. Consider this.

Your heroine is climbing a mountain with progressively more challenging ascents.

First slope: No problem. She is enjoying herself.

Second: Also no problem although it is much steeper than the first.

Third: Almost loses her balance but recovers and continues upward.

Fourth: She makes it to the top

Honestly, it’s a story—I’m not saying a good one—but things happen and she achieves her goal. Soooo boring.

Will the ship sink?

Let’s do this again, introducing a little tension. I am keeping the original ending.

First slope: She enjoys it for the first twenty minutes. But is getting winded. The second ascent will be much steeper.

Can she climb the next section?

No: She goes back, humiliation, etc.

Yes: She gathers strength and presses on

Second: Her legs are tired and starting to shake. She tries to use her handpick for purchase but can’t break through the rock.

Will she collapse?

No: She gets a toe-hold in a crevice and catches her breath

Yes: She can’t move

Third: She crawls to the base of the third slope. She forces herself to stand. And feels herself going over backwards.

Will she fall?

No: A boulder stops her fall. She gets back on the trail

Yes: She tumbles down to the bottom of the slope

Fourth: She makes it to the top

It retards the action to pars each scene as I’ve done but I hope it shows that adding a question (however unspoken) heightens the tension for the reader and therefore the impetus to keep reading.

Tips for tension

Every scene

We of course want tension as the climax builds to the end of your novel, but at the end of each scene is also helpful. Not always possible to do, admittedly. But probably more possible than you might think.

At the end of the scene

In the original example, the path gets steeper and she almost loses her balance. These could will-the-ship-sink moments but are resolved within the scene. So they don’t impel the reader forward.

More possibilities

Building in tension can open up the story. What happens if she can’t ascend the first slope? Different story but interesting possibility. Does she go home, defeated? Or does she vow to train and come back?

Negative outcomes create more tension

Generally speaking, the story is more exciting if each scene has a negative outcome for the protagonist. More tension. More pulling of the reader along. It can also take you into unexpected territory, not where you expected to go with the story. And that can be fun for you.

So, will the ship sink?

August 14, 2020June 5, 2020

The Mystery Novel Versus the Character Novel

Whether it be romance, mystery, fantasy, or character-driven fiction, getting feedback on your writing from those who are also in the same genre, can be useful. They understand the conventions of that genre. A friend once wanted me to read his murder mystery novel. I did my level best to get out of it because I knew that even though I would try not to, I would tend to use the rules of thumb I use in my own writing.

This post discusses the differences between writing a murder mystery and a character-driven novel. (At least from my point of view—there are lots of books on writing for your genre.)

The mystery novel

The plot is all and a very standard one at that. The required components of a mystery:

Murder
Suspects
Detective
Identification of murderer

Now, as you know, good mystery writers can weave their way around this formula to make entertaining fiction. But if you remove any of these elements, it’s not a murder mystery (or an unsatisfying one if the murderer isn’t identified).

The characters

The characters are in the service of the story. So you’ll always have a detective of some kind and also usually a sidekick (think Dr. Watson to Sherlock Holmes, Hastings to Hercule Poirot) to whom she can confide her amazing conclusions. There have to be at least two and maybe more people with motives to kill the victim.

Given this relatively rigid structure, character sometimes gets subordinated to plot so that characters get pushed around to show up at the right place and time so that the next step of the mystery can unfold.

Character-driven fiction

The characters

Character-driven narratives tend to take a character and let it roam where it may. Unless the deviation is explained, characters’ actions and thoughts usually need to be consistent with the personality given.

Typically, at least the main protagonist has to grow or change in some way before the end of the novel. He has to be different in some way at the end compared to who he was at the beginning.

The plot

The plot to some extent gets its shape from the needs of the character. So asking questions like Is the protagonist credible? is much more important for a character-driven novel than a mystery. If the main character isn’t credible, then the plot which unfolds is likely also to be incredible.

Character driven novels might not have endings which tie everything up and still be satisfying but mystery novels must get to the who dun it.

So, this is just an example of how different genres have different conventions which you violate at your peril. You need to understand the particular requirements of your genre to satisfy the readers of that type of fiction.