Tone—What Attitude Looks Like in Writing

attitude

Tone—What Attitude Looks Like in Writing

Last post, we talked about how the attitude or tone of your writing can enhance or detract from the pleasure readers take in your work. This can be difficult to pick up so I want to work through some examples.

Some examples of different attitudes

Remember, the tone or attitude of your piece is usually carried by the narrator. This can be the main character telling the story from her point of view, or it can be how the setting,  actions, and speech, etc., are depicted.

So, let’s use the same setting—a children’s outing on a beach—and show how different tones affect the feel of the writing. As mentioned before, the attitude you think a piece takes  is often subjective, so you may not agree with my label for all of the following snippets. But focus on how different words and the choice of diverse elements of the scene can affect the tone.

Happy The sun sparkled on the water. And bounced off the metal grill of Dad’s car. It was hot. Really hot. Just perfect. We ran down into the water, yelling and screaming, and flopped ourselves down onto the sandy bottom.

Sad The children ran down to the beach. I sat up. Was that Danny? The sun was in my eyes. I squinted but couldn’t see. Then I sat back and shook my head. Of course it can’t be.

Angry I swotted the flies away from my drink. Damn sand always brought them out. And what the hell were those children screaming about in the water? Making an unholy cacophony. Parents these days don’t have any control.

Nostalgic It must have been a day just like this. Warm, almost hot, sun. And there must have been children much like these gambolling now on the beach. Older perhaps, but just as lively. And as carefree.

Sarcastic/Mocking A summer idyll. I don’t think so. I bet those parents think they’re making life-long memories for their kids. And feel a glow because of it. When all the kids will remember is how their parents done them wrong.

You see how focusing on different elements of the same scene can alter the tone of the piece. A happy piece doesn’t necessarily fix on the flies; a nostalgic one may use the present scene as a springboard into the past.

Whether or not your whole novel or memoir has a particular tone depends of course on whether it is sustained by its continued use.

What attitude do you want to convey?

Depends on your writing style and your intent for the piece.  But generally, I would advise against an a priori decision. Just write a good story. Tone, if there needs to be one, will probably emerge.

In fact, it is more likely that you’ll inadvertently transmit a tone which doesn’t fit or impedes the enjoyment of the story itself. So, unless you purposefully want to communicate a particular attitude and are clear why you want to do it, I think generally you’d be wiser to let the story engage the reader rather than overlay a tone.

Tone

tone

Tone

The tone of a novel can be a tricky one for both readers and writers to pick up. This post will discuss what it is and how to identify it in your writing.

What is tone?

Tone is usually carried by the narrator of the story. The narrator, even if not named, tells you about setting, describes the characters, lets you know how things are rolling out, etc. Sometimes, the narrator’s tenor can be fairly neutral and therefore in the background. But it can also be witty, sarcastic, sentimental, mocking, etc.

I want to make the distinction between a mocking tone and a mocking character.

Character: “You think you’ll get away with that, you cretin?” Ada flipped her hair.

Tone:I’m very empathetic,” Ada said, running her artificially nurtured nails through the assisted gold of her hair.

Tone comes, not from what the characters do or say, but how the narrator describes what they do or say.

Why does it matter?

If a particular attitude can be carried off in a novel, it can be very entertaining. A wise-ass narrator who has opinions on his characters can work.

It is, however, very hard to sustain a particular manner throughout a long piece like a novel. For one thing, your story may call for some serious or even tragic events. If you’ve established the tone as sarcastic, the best you can do is treat these scenes comically.

A strong tone can also distract from your story. It can look as if you’re saying to your readers: Hey, look at how clever I am, how amusingly I’m telling you this. It can be irritating and get in the way.

Finally, a particular tone is sometimes camouflage. You want to write about the tortured relationship with your mother, but you do it in a flippant, even amusing manner. If you didn’t experience the events as amusing, then you’re not being emotionally honest with yourself or with your readers. And they’ll pick it up, even as they’re laughing.

So you may have created a compelling story with vivid characters and fascinating plot twists, but a tone that is off-putting will make the reader lose interest. It is a way of breaking the continuous dream you’re trying to craft. And being readers, it’s not their job to identify where you went wrong. It’s yours.

How can I tell how my writing is tending?

First off, and annoyingly, tone is usually subjective, just like comedy. I think the tone is hilarious; you think it’s contemptuous. Even so, you still want to most of your readers to ‘hear’ your story the way you intended it. This is where writing groups and ideal readers come in. Ask them to read for tone (you might have to explain what that is). And like all feedback, listen well and then decide yourself whether it applies. After all, it’s your writing.

However, I know that this is a tough area so the next post will go into more detail on your writing’s attitude.

I Have a Bunch of Scenes. Now What?

I

scenes

 Have a Bunch of Scenes. Now What?

The last post dealt with creating a novel through writing manageable chunks.  I’m not advocating actually writing in such a mechanical way as I prefer a more haphazard, and freer, method. But whichever approach you use, you’ll eventually end up with a bunch of scenes, all of which may tend in the right direction but don’t necessarily read like a fully-realized novel. Which is probably true.

Sub-plots and other useful bits

The main plot is of course important to a novel whether it’s the growth/decline of the protagonist, the resolution of a mystery, or a couple finally getting together. However, it has other components which are equally important. They have to do with creating a fully realized world into which your reader can happily immerse herself.

The setting

In some novels, say ones in the Arctic, the locale itself can almost be a character. It’s not necessary to go that far, but your characters and their actions need to appear in a context. While writing all the little scenes, you have undoubtedly included some background setting. Now, you should review them to see whether you need to amplify or otherwise enhance the setting to create a fully realized world.

This doesn’t mean simply more description although that might be a component. Ask yourself whether the setting itself can and should prompt your characters’ actions. A storm in a forest might clarify or emphasize your heroine’s bravery or timidity. Work lay-offs could reveal how your protagonist reacts to crisis.

Sub-plots

Another way to create a fictional world is to trace what happens to other characters in the story. If we return to the Martha story from the last post, does she have a sister, Tanya, who finally rebels against the shoddy treatment Martha dishes out? Rather than just write that one scene to illustrate Martha’s ruthlessness at home, you can create a whole story for Tanya. What was it like growing up with Martha? How has it shaped Tanya’s life? How did she get to the breaking point? Why now and not earlier or later in her life?

There you are—a sub-plot.

Scenes sewn together

A variety of sub-plots makes the reading more interesting and your fictional world deeper and more complex. But it isn’t going to work as a novel if all you have are a bunch of linear sub-plots. Clearly, they need to be woven together.

Actually, during the writing itself, these links and crossovers may have already occurred to you. Hey, Martha could need Tanya to do something for her and Tanya ‘forgets.’ Go with them, by all means.

But in the editing phase, look to where you might be able to kill one or more birds with one stone. For example, say you’ve decided that Tanya is as selfish as Martha. Rather than a scene where Tanya is being selfish and another with Martha demonstrating the same quality, why not show them fighting, both trying to get their way? If you add some setting, you have the beginnings of a fully and more integrated novel.

I have to say, the whole time I’m writing this I have an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach. Breaking down a novel into parts is simply a way to show that it can be constructed from little scenes. PLEASE don’t write your novel that way. Let the imagination flow and creativity reign. It is only in the editing that you can and should be more analytic.

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

Write What You Want to Read

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