Sunday, 29 May 2011

Why pants and plots are the same thing

One lesson I've learned from the day job is that if you give one guy three guys' jobs to do he'll subsume those three jobs into his main job. Pretty soon those three jobs become one job. The edges between the disciplines start to blur. Imagine the guy who builds the product now has to design and test it too. He figures only a brief design is required, he can do the rest as he builds it. It's not going to need much testing - he knows it's going to work because he's the guy who's building it. He delivers, and he gets away with it, but something gets lost, something is missing. Before long he's building it without any design or testing at all - and it still works, mainly, and it's still pretty good, mainly. But it's second rate. It's mediocre. It's just 'ok'. And he wonders why.

Maybe you're not like this. Maybe you're disciplined enough to give each aspect of the job the time and attention it requires. Maybe you're not like most people. In which case, you'll make a good pantser.

But the fact is, whether you pants or plot, the ideas that you produce have to undergo the three same things.

Invention

Writers like to write and it follows that they like to capture and generate ideas using words. I do it. I have a notebook rammed with ideas from the sublime to the ridiculous. Most of those ideas will never see the light of day and that's a good thing. If you crack on with your manuscript without allowing yourself the time to have those crap ideas, they might just make it to your final draft.

Construction

The structure of the incidents, the story, the plot, suspense, narrative drive, believability - if you don't spend some time structuring the ideas and scenes you've invented, then you leave these elements of good fiction to your natural talent – or to chance. Maybe Stephen King can get away without plotting, but can you?

Expression

You can have brilliant ideas and a great story, but if you can't express yourself, you're no good to anyone. There's your voice (needs honing), your technique (needs learning), your style (needs choosing) – three things that can in fact benefit by simply getting on and writing – but if you're trying to do that at the same time as coming up with ideas and trying to structure events into something consequential then they may get compromised.

People need to do whatever they need to do to get written what they want to write. Some people develop their characters and outline meticulously before starting to write the narrative and some just start writing – because that's what works for them. Some people do both.

But there's a difference between pantsing and just avoiding the issue – if there's no room for the above three phases of creation in your writing process then you're not really pantsing – you're just typing. It may feel liberating at first – but you're only going to have to fix it later, or settle for being mediocre.

Thursday, 19 May 2011

Five ways to know your characters before you even meet them

There's no getting away from it, at some point, normally very near the start of your project, you're going to have to come up with a character list, and if you write for television, stage or screen you're most likely going to have to submit that character list as part of a proposal before you've even written the story. So how can you possibly know your characters before you've even got to know them? Here's how.

Be specific not prescriptive

Being vague about a character may allow you the space to develop them later, but you'll be doing it without the commission. Saying a character is 'good' or 'bad' isn't going to cut it. Like all strong writing you need to find the specific word - the telling detail - that really captures the essence of that character. What is it about her that is good? Is she honourable, trustworthy, loyal? If you get this right at an early stage you won't be restricting your story but providing germinal seeds of character that will blossom into fully formed people informing and driving your plot.

Understand the relationship between character and characterisation

Characterisation is the collection of details that make up a character: hair, clothes, job, etc. whilst character is what the character do or are i.e. the nature of that person. Character can be revealed through characterisation, although it's most powerfully revealed in action. Don't obsess about characterisation details if what you're really trying to grasp is essential character traits and likewise, don't struggle for core character if the only thing that's important for the story is the fact that the character has pink hair.

Discover the essentials

This is the key to being able to define your characters without making a decision you'll later regret. If it's important that the character has worked hard all their lives but you're not sure what job they do, don't make one up for the sake of it – that's something you can leave for later – just specify the work ethic. On the other hand, if the piece is called 'Death of a Dustbin Man' then you have to mention it. This is the decision you have to make – the character elements that are essential to the story you want to tell.

Make a good character flawed, a flawed character virtuous

Give a good character at least one flaw and a flawed character at least one virtue – otherwise they will be unconvincing and uninteresting. And you need to do it right from the off. It's as simple as that.

Forget the Story

Resist the temptation to start telling the story in the character descriptions – focus on the characters' goals and motivations – giving some story elements may be necessary to do this, but remember that the story belongs to the synopsis, and the characters to the character list. It's worth making this distinction even if the character list is purely for your own benefit, as it will encourage thought and focus on the characters and as a consequence make them stronger and more developed.

Monday, 9 May 2011

Why writing advice is utterly meaningless

Are all those writing rules killing your creativity? Are you looking at that mountain of 'how-to' books you've invested in, all those saved blog posts and tweets, and thinking you'll be dead before you ever get a chance to read – never mind learn – all that?

And what about that schmuck who hits on a bestseller with the first thing they write?

Maybe it's time to forget the rules?

You don't worry about how something works when it's working. Who cares what the car, boiler or washing machine do as long as they keep doing it? And likewise with your writing - you don't need to know what you're doing as long as what you're doing keeps working.

So why are there rules?

The way to understand something complex is to break it down into smaller more digestible chunks – something that's clear and comprehensible – and this is what writing advice does. All those little adages – show don't tell, front-story not back-story, plot don't pants – all make perfect sense on their own, but in the grand scheme of things, when awash with all the other elements of a novel, they are utterly meaningless. In fact, within the context of your story, the complete reverse of those pieces of advice could be true.

So how can I avoid the rules?

The truth is, there's truth in those rules, and good writing will indeed exhibit some of the effects detailed in them. But good writing came before advice on how to do it – Aristotle didn't tell Homer and Sophocles how to write, they showed him.

If you have fully-formed characters reacting convincingly to dramatic story-events, thereby revealing character and creating action and consequently driving the plot to a natural and satisfying conclusion – then you don't need any rules. You don't need any rules at all.

Will I ever need them?

Maybe through talent and luck you can produce a masterpiece on your first attempt. Maybe you continue to do it on your second. Maybe it just keeps on working.

But there will come a day when it won't. And that's the day when you'll need to know what you're doing. Then the rules will set you free.

Tuesday, 3 May 2011

Five ways to ruin a good story

Having a good story to tell is only half the battle – you can still make a mess of it in the telling. Here are five ways of doing just that.

Tell it in flashback

If a story is good enough, it doesn't need some fancy framing device to tell it. If the most interesting elements of the story are being told in flashback while the immediate front-story is static and less interesting then you're telling the wrong story. Flashbacks – if used at all – should augment a ripping front-story that is told through immediate and dramatic scenes.

Save it to the end

Don't make the mistake of confusing a mystery with a 'reveal' – a mystery involves a propulsive narrative driven by the reader discovering (along with the protagonist) the truth - whilst a reveal is just the writer holding out on the reader in the hope of capturing a similar kind of propulsion. Not the same thing. Your story should be exciting and revealing all the way through.

Have the best bits happen off page/stage/screen

I used to do it as a novice writer because I was scared of dealing with the big dramatic scenes - but I've seen it done by writers paid thousands by the BBC for the privilege. So the cuckold comes round to punch the cuckolder in the mouth but we don't get to see the cuckold finding out? Please.

Don't realise the full dramatic potential of story events

'So you slept with my friend?' said the cuckolded husband.

'Yeah, he was great,' said the wife.

'That's terrible of you. I'm off down the pub,' said the husband.

You get the point.

Make it the back-story

If the back-story is so good you have the front-story characters sitting around talking about it for the entire novel then you need to ask yourself why. The front-story should be the most compelling narrative in the novel – the back-story should either be the beginning of that story or shed further light on it. If the back-story IS the story then you need to make it the front-story.