Writing Excuses notes, Season 1

As I said in my last post, I didn't take extensive notes. That said again, here are some things I learned from the first season of my Writing Excuses course:

1. When writing, the first priority is clarity.

If your reader doesn't understand, there's no point and it isn't going anywhere. You are essentially wasting your time.

This should seem obvious, but to me, it wasn't. I have a bad habit of hinting at things when I write instead of just saying them. It's excessive showing, when sometimes, telling is necessary. For instance, I once had someone get up and leave in the middle of a conversation, and I didn't tell the reader why. I guessed my audience would know that the character was being rude, but instead, it just left them confused. One reader metaphorically pointed at it and said, "Did you know you have a character leaving in the middle of the conversation?" Why yes, yes I did. But it turns out I should have been more clear. Readers read words, not minds. It's too bad, really.

2. To make a world or character seem more real, explain the heck out of the unimportant details and ignore the most important details.

It turns out that the big things are easily accepted most of the time. In real life, you see a girl in a wheelchair and while you may wonder why she is in the wheelchair, you usually don't ask. Instead, you tell her how you like her shirt and that the band being advertised on it is one of your favorites. To use another example, people seeing Mount Rushmore wouldn't point out that there are faces on the side of a mountain. They would talk about how crowded it was and what the weather was like.

So tell the reader as much as they need to know about the big things, but don't give too many details. Focus on the small details—those are what breed uniqueness and reality.

3. If this story will not be published, is it still worth it to write? If not, don't bother writing it.

If you don't love it, no one else will. Unless, of course, you're Stephen King writing Carrie. In which case, he did write what interested him, he just wanted to give up until his wife told him not to. Then he was a smart husband and listened to what his wife had to say.

There will be times when you hate the story you are writing. That is normal. Only give up if there is never a time when you actually like it. The only manuscript I have ever written that I honestly wanted to burn was one I hated from start to finish. It was never good, even when I fed it good ideas. It was worth it to write, though, because I learned from it. But there is no way it is ever seeing the light of day.

4. Cut out anything that is not necessary to the conflict.

This was said again in a later season, phrased as something like "Don't write a chapter the reader can skip and still be fine." When it comes to poetry, I like the Ezra Pound approach: delete all the fluff, leaving the essence. I can start with a page-long poem and end up with a quarter of a page. What are you really trying to say? Rambling, scenes written for the joy of it without moving the plot forward, and stalling aren't good writing habits. Your reader will get bored and think, "This story is not moving." Because it won't be. Quit being self-indulgent and write a story. A story is based around its conflict, the problem that needs to be solved.

5. In late, out early.

I would be a bad student if this wasn't in here somewhere, because it's mentioned in so many episodes. What it means is that your reader does not want slow starts all the time and they don't want to hang around watching everyone meander off afterward. This applies not only to the whole story, but to each scene.

If you go in late, the reader will be anticipating the excitement. It will be like withholding a favorite food until an appointed time. When they get to the meat of what's happening, you better deliver something good or they will be upset with you. No one likes being told they'll get steak and then find out they are being served a beef patty from the garbage. Use the intro time—the time spent "getting in"—to build up the tension and make your reader excited for what is coming.

Leaving early is like a singer stepping offstage while everyone is still in love with the music. A singer would be out of a job if they just kept milking the moment and their audience got tired of listening. So cut the scene when it feels natural to cut it, but don't go overboard just because you think you're being entertaining. Finish the song, and don't bow on your way out. You want people to finish thinking, "Man, that was good," not, "Man, that was long."

An example for this, then I need to go grocery shopping. In Romeo and Juliet, we start in the midst of the argument between the two families. We also start with Romeo just getting over being in love with someone, which means the drama wheel is already turning and so is the romance wheel. The play finished with Romeo and Juliet dying and then the family making up. That completes the story arc. The "out early" happens because we don't stick around to see how well the families do with being at peace. We don't care, frankly, what Juliet's dad ends up doing with her dowry. Shakespeare might have cared, but nobody else does. So he cut the action immediately after the resolution, and the audience leaves satisfied.

Now to buy some bread. I need something to have a sandwich with.

Writing Excuses: Course Complete

I completed my self-assigned Writing Excuses course today, and it depends on how you look at it whether or not I totally failed. My original rules said I had to post my notes to my blog (didn't do) and write one response each week to a writing prompt given (done halfway). I ended up writing about an alien gardener, a guy who died (that one wasn't my favorite, but oh well), a snake-infested ranch, a pregnant ghost who could be photographed, and a mute mother and her son. That means I wrote five out of eight. Oh, and did I mention it took more than the eight weeks I said it would take?

However, I have one thing to say for myself before you tsk at me for being a terrible student: This course helped me get started on my own project. Instead of responding to prompts, I spent my writing time each day actually working on something that isn't as transitory as a prompt response. With that result, I think I passed with flying colors. Anything that can give me some traction to get going is worth the time spent, and I also learned things along the way.

This is me.

One thing I learned and implemented just showed up in that paragraph: I have writing time now. I am doing my best to spend one hour per day writing. On top of my job and other projects (and my book addiction), one hour is something I can manage to fit in every day. So long as I write something, I am exercising that muscle and improving. So thank you, Writing Excuses people, for giving me a push to get me started. It's sad to say I needed it.

My stories are much better when I think them through before I begin to write. I used to think this meant I couldn't sit down every day and write. Instead, I would passively think and research for these stories. I now know that while I work this way, I still need to spend some time each day writing something—anything, even if it's just a blog post. If I don't write, I may never start writing. I would be stuck in a vortex of research and thought. Nice as that is, it isn't the end goal. The end goal is to get that research and thought in front of people in a way that is entertaining or at least insightful.

To catch up on the homework I am way behind on, I'll spend the next few posts going over my notes from the course. I'm not the sort of person who takes a lot of notes ... for some entire seasons, there is less than seven lines of type, with each line being a separate idea. That's because I only take note of the things that are new or that I particularly want to remember. So what you'll be getting is highlights. Hopefully you will learn something too, or else decide to give Writing Excuses a try.

What's Elizabeth Reading? ...Henry James

I first encountered Henry James in an American Literature survey class. A survey class is interested in breadth of knowledge as opposed to depth, meaning we didn't do intense study of any author or piece in particular but got a fair idea of a large number of them. We read Henry James's short story The Real Thing, which was published in the 1890s. I remember coming to class and being surprised to find out how many people did not like it (I can't remember why they didn't). I really enjoyed the story and my professor told me he thought I would—weird, when you don't think your professors have a real idea of your reading habits. Sometimes you want to sit them down and ask just what they know about you or have figured out, just so you're on the same page.

Since then, I have been meaning to read more of James's work, and after reading Eric L. Harry's Society of the Mind, I reached out to James to provide me with a palate cleanser. I wanted to keep reading, but I felt like I had overdosed on sub-par (but still enjoyable) science fiction. I picked up a small book—it's the perfect size for a purse book, by the way, if you carry a purse and don't have a device to read on but get bored in long lines—that contained two works of his: The Turn of the Screw and Daisy Miller. Since they are together in the book, I'm going to talk about both of them in this blog post.

The Turn of the Screw's title is partially an advertisement in and of itself; James was attempting to tighten the tension involved in your average scary story, making it even more anxiety-ridden. He did this by including children. I saw an online review blame this book for all the creepy-child elements in horror stories and movies today. With that said, please note that this book is incredibly tame in terms of violence or any of your usual horror tropes.

I was thoroughly creeped out soon after he started the story of a governess who is given charge of a young boy and girl in a secluded place where she is not allowed to contact her employer. She has the other servants and the children, and that's all—excepting the ghosts.

When I was younger, one of my weird but real fears was that some henchman would come to my window in the night and peep in at me. I seem to remember my mental image of them resembling Horace and Jasper from 101 Dalmatians. Something about being seen like that, of looking out and seeing an ugly, dark face staring in at me, was terrifying. It took me years to feel safe with my blinds open at night.

I'd love to get someone else's take on this, because I know it was this personal fear of mine that made this book especially creepy. My fear is what happened in the book, and the main character was appropriately alarmed.

Like with any haunted house, the ghosts never actually touch the mortal characters. This may make it seem incredibly tame, but one needs to remember the audience James was writing for. Stephen King wasn't around. I will say to James's credit, however, that at one point I sat back and thought simply, "This guy is good."

The one thing that I see as a drawback to this story is the ambiguity. I closed it and immediately went to Google to find out if I had understood correctly or if I had missed something. It turns out I had gotten it all correct, so it's fair to say the story is easy to understand. No events are sloppily told; we know exactly what happened. The ambiguity comes because there is not a whole lot of "why" or "how" in this book. It is simply a retelling of the facts using a biased point of view.

For his audience, I think it would be scarier to know the "what" but not the "why" or "how." They "how" was probably immediately attributed to the devil, in any case. That's what James waves his arm toward whenever we think to ask.

Moving on to Daisy Miller, I wanted to say that James is a naturalist. That's the term for a style of writing wherein everything is normal—realistic almost to an extreme. Naturalist tales have been called "teacup tragedies," with the idea being that instead of the fate of the world being at stake, it's really just the breaking of a teacup that is the climax. Because, you know, that's realistic.

Daisy Miller does involve a death, but for the most part, it fits the teacup tragedy description. An American girl goes with her mother and younger brother to Europe and flirts up a storm without realizing that everyone is judging her for it and she is ruining her reputation.

This is another story that needs to be seen through the lens of its intended audience. The narrative neither condones her actions as progressive nor decries them as satanic, which is nice; instead, she is labeled as ignorant of social expectations. This makes the book anything you want it to be—feminist, a warning to society, the tragedy of a young life gone astray.

Here is a small excerpt from Daisy Miller so you can get a feel for James's writing style and figure out whether or not you want to give him a shot:

Winterbourne was not in the best possible humor as he took his seat in Mrs. Walker's victoria. "That was not clever of you," he said, candidly, while the vehicle mingled again with the throng of carriages.

"In such a case," his companion answered, "I don't wish to be clever; I wish to be earnest!"

"Well, your earnestness has only offended her and put her off."

"It has happened very well," said Mrs. Walker. "If she is so perfectly determined to compromise herself, the sooner one knows it the better; one can act accordingly."

"I suspect she meant no harm," Winterbourne rejoined.

"So I thought a month ago. But she has been going too far."

"What has she been doing?"

"Everything that is not done here. Flirting with any man she could pick up; sitting in corners with mysterious Italians; dancing all the evening with the same partners; receiving visits at eleven o'clock at night. Her mother goes away when visitors come."

I recommend for your consideration Henry James. His writing somehow draws me in, but it does so without being exciting or even beautiful. Instead, it is intriguing. Also, these two stories are both novellas, so they are quick to knock out if you just want a taste without a serious commitment. Above that, they served as perfect palate cleansers for someone who has overdosed on sub-par science fiction.

The Grammar Nazis Are Wrong (Gasp)

I do not consider myself a grammar nazi, though most people who know me probably assume I am one. A grammar nazi, as far as I understand the title, is someone who polices the spelling, grammar, and punctuation of the Internet. They are the annoying people who inform you you used the wrong "there." Me, I don't correct people. First off, it's rude. It makes people feel self-conscious (besides that, usually people are self-conscious enough about their language when they write something in my direction). Secondly, there is more than one correct grammar.

For the record, there are no grammar mistakes in this picture,
so long as you realize they are not using the Standard. There is
a correct way to spell and use slang like this, and they got it right.

You read that right. "Ain't" is correct, and so is "y'all" and "I didn't do nothin'." It is more than which stylebook you follow (how many self-proclaimed grammar nazis even know there are different styles? I'd love to take a poll); it's that there are correct ways to write incorrectly, ways that allow you to write incorrectly correctly. Except, of course, that "correct" is subjective. Welcome to the English language, people.

There are a few fun quotes out there describing how we could change spelling. A favorite of mine is this one by Mark Twain. People think the jokes are funny, but the thing is, it could work. Society could agree as a whole that "throughout" is spelled "xrewawt," and then "xrewawt" would be the correct spelling. That is because "correct" merely means "the way we all agree it should be." It's the easiest to read, because it is what we are used to and expect. Every language is a giant compromise. So next time you think you don't agree with someone on anything at all, realize that you both agree on how to spell "cat" and move on from there.

"Correct," as grammar nazis and most people view it, refers to the Standard Grammar, Spellling, and Punctuation. However, one can use other types of grammar. Slang has its own grammar rules, as do dialects and who knows what all. If you can say it, there is a "correct" way to write it. That way is the way that makes it so other people can understand. Let's revisit William Faulkner. I told you it took a lot of skill to write like he did; that's because he wrote an entire book in non-Standard grammar.

"She’s a-going," he says. "Her mind is set on it." It’s a hard life on women, for a fact. Some women. I mind my mammy lived to be seventy or more. Worked every day, rain or shine; never a sick day since her last chap was born until one day she kind of looked around her and then she went and taken that lace-trimmed night-gown she had had forty-five years and never wore out of the chest and put it on and laid down on the bed and pulled the covers up and shut her eyes. "You all will have to look out for pa the best you can," she said. "I’m tired."

Did you notice the weird wording? The sentence fragments? The lack of a subject in places? The run-on sentence? Was it shocking to read? Probably not, if you keep an open mind. That's because it is written correctly. It is written so we understand it, and it is mimicking a non-Standard way of talking. Technically, we only need to follow the Standard in formal writing. The Internet is rarely formal.

You may take this post as me giving you permission to throw the rule book out the window. Before you toss it, though, let me advise you to stay with the Standard. People are used to reading it; they do not trip over the Standard, and it takes less effort to read. You can start using a different system of grammar, one that mimics your way of speaking or one you use simply to stick it to the Man, and that is fine. It would work, and it would be correct. However, it is also true that you can use an alternate Internet (in the same way you can use an alternate grammar). I mean, the Internet is something people invented, and another one could be invented. No one is saying you have to use this one. It's just the Standard Internet.

Understand what I'm trying to say? Use the Standard Grammar, Punctuation, and Spelling, but know that grammar nazis are actually conformists, bless their hearts.



Addendum: I do correct people when they have specifically asked me to edit something. A discussion on that would lead into a whole new subject, though: an editor's bedside manner. Another post, I think?

Paragraph fiction - Teddy Bear Buttons

On 3 O’Clock Drive, a townhouse with double doors, one green, one yellow, is the backdrop for a little girl playing jump rope. She recites a rhyme, unaware it is poetry, unaware it is exercise, vaguely aware of the faint tapping of the rope each time it hits the ground. It beats the rhythm for her rhyme, something about teddy bears and buttons not made to make sense but made to keep time, to propel the girl forward until she has to move aside for someone to walk by. Flexing her feet beneath the shade of the tree growing out of the sidewalk, the girl waits for the man to be out of sight before she continues counting buttons on the teddy bear’s shirt, where surely some must be kept in his pocket for want of space along the placket. But perhaps the teddy bear makes a jump rope out of the buttons and sings about little girls in front of townhouses with mismatched doors.

What's Elizabeth Reading? ...Eric L. Harry

After the Faulkner fiasco, I wanted something of a break from whatever that was. Minimalist literary fiction. I went to the library and found Society of the Mind by Eric L. Harry, something I picked up off the shelf because the title intrigued me. It is billed as a cyberthriller, something I have not read before. The word pretty much explains what Harry was going for, though: computer-style science fiction that is also a thriller.

I gave this book 4 out of 5 stars on Good Reads, but if I could have, that would have been 3.5 stars. I loved reading this book, to the point that I was thinking I maybe wanted to own it for myself. The ending flopped, though, and it has almost ruined the book for me.

Perhaps the coolest aspect of this book is that our main character is a female psychologist trying to analyze a computer that has gained consciousness. I have never seen this angle before and it was cool to watch things progress. Sure, we've got the cliche rich guy who owns and lives on a volcanic island, where he has robots doing nearly everything for him. The beginning actually had a Beauty and the Beast feel, with her being taken into a manor and not seeing her host until an invitation arrives for dinner, with only two or three other humans to be seen. This worked well for it, and the psychologist bit helps make all this familiar stuff new. Originality is (usually) nothing more than making connections others have yet to make, and Harry does this all over the place.

Society of the Mind was published in '96, and it was fun to see the differences between then and now, with Harry writing futuristically. For instance, the main character, Laura, is terrified by the self-driving car she rides near the beginning. As a reader now, I was mentally telling her to calm down. If I were to ride in a self-driving car, I don't think I would be too amazed at this point, much less terrified. There's also a moment when she says something about the Internet not being the revolution people had said it would be--as she sat in the library so she could have Internet access on an incredibly slow computer. Oh, and the TVs that made the rich guy rich? They sound just like your average high-def flat screen.

The book also includes moments like these:

"Get her a weapon!" (Gray) snapped angrily, pulling the bolt back on a machine pistol he'd been handed, to chamber a round.
Hoblenz handed Laura an identical weapon. "I don't want this," Laura said.
"If you're going with us," Gray said sternly, "you're taking a weapon!"
"I mean I want a bigger one. One of those rifles," she said ...

Which is just awesome. She is regularly the anti-violence member of the cast, making it even better.

To those writers who gasped at the speech tags and adverbs: get a grip. He uses them. I did not have a problem with it.

Some things I didn't like, however, but which did not seriously impede the story for me, included some foreshadowing that did not pan out in the end (like, it was obvious foreshadowing for something, but nothing came of it), the way the main character was always flipping out, and the fact that Harry does a much better job with the science fiction aspect than with the thriller aspect. He goes a bit too far for me, actually, in explaining all the science of the world he has created, and I was hoping there would be some reason he went on for pages and pages about it. I'm sure some of the detail could have been cut for the sake of moving the story along. I prefer hard science fiction to soft science fiction, but this book went a bit overboard. Even the main character tunes a lot of it out. As for the thriller bit, here's an excerpt that should let you judge for yourself how well Harry does.

"She cringed at the fleeting glimpse of a (robot)'s legs as they flashed in front of the windshield. A crashing explosion of sounds preceded the gut-wrenching flight through the air of the tumbling car. The screeching and tearing of metal and violent jerks of her body against the seat restraints went on forever as she waited helplessly in anticipation of the end.

All was still. Laura lay on her side. She had been in a car that had gotten into an accident, she remembered. ..."

For me, if a writer has to clarify "she had been in a car that had gotten into an accident," he obviously did not do a good job of letting the reader see the accident. When I first read it, I did need that sentence to clarify. His thriller aspects, the moments that are supposed to be full of adrenaline, are a bit fuzzy.

To top it off, when I said the ending flopped, what I mean is it ends in a lecture. Science fiction is supposed to reflect societal issues, and Harry used that and then shoved the reader's face into it. It's a giant "and the moral of the story is" bit. Like a good joke, he shouldn't stop to explain himself afterward.

That all said, I'm a bit sad that this post seems so negative. I honestly enjoyed 80% of this book. Most of the things I mentioned were overshadowed by the great story and imagination of the author. I do recommend it. Just don't expect to be satisfied by the ending, and be willing to make some excuses for Harry. Oh, and don't read it as a thriller. Think of it as cyber science fiction that has violence involved.