A Question of Character

A writer friend of mine attended a weekend conference in Iowa City about character. He wrote to me about some of the activities, and suddenly one of the ideas I’d been working flared into something I had to work on right away.

So one of the plots I’ve been toying with now has a character. I may not be exactly sure what she looks like or what her name is, but I did see part of her world. It also brought me into her mind for awhile, which was more of what I needed to get connected to her.

Because, really, does her eye color, hair color, or even skin color matter just yet? It might not end up mattering at all, unless she becomes green-skinned for some reason. (Or any other outlandish color.)

Sometimes I’m still waffling between how close my third person narration is to my character. Am I going to tell you about that black-haired blue-eyed midget, or will I show you that everyone towers over him?

It’s just interesting to see how the character expresses him- or herself when you get out of the way. I might not think about my natural light brown hair, especially if I get another color – like red – out of a bottle to amuse myself. Some characters might feel that way, and others might feel a sense of loss for their old color. Some may never glance in a mirror at all.

That’s the beauty of characters. They’re unique, with their own stories to tell, and with different personalities to uncover through the story process.

It feels so good to start connections to them again. Getting a lead character might just get that novel project going. Not that I need another novel to work on right now, but maybe it’ll scare Don’t Tell Your Mother into some necessary revisions…

Description

How do you know when it’s too much or too little?

I usually err on the side of ‘not enough’. I work while I revise to make certain the world, the character, and the actions are shown enough for the reader to make sense of it. Sometimes I keep too much of it in my head in the first draft.

There are exercises to work on description, but they don’t change what I do as I write. I’m getting better at finding the line where the descriptions are needed, but I never want to put in too many.

I’ve never been a fan of purple prose.

When I find those overflowing, descriptive passages, they’re in other people’s work. It can be very pretty, except when it gets in the way of the story. It’s so hard to tell someone, “You know, I don’t think this is working for your story. What’s actually happening here?”

I get the “show, don’t tell” references, but precious few references tell you how to go about that. And they don’t say a lot for when you think you’re showing it all, only to find out you’re on a tangent that doesn’t advance the plot.

Wait, they do have a saying for it: Kill your darlings.

It doesn’t tell you how. Or where. Or why. Is it measurable between dialogue beats, narration, emotional response of character to events? I doubt it will surprise anyone to say I’m reading a book about it to understand more and critique better, partly because I can’t just say, “This is the point where my mind wanders away. Fix it.”

Writing is such a harsh business. We have to be critical to each other, critical of our own work, and submit to the critique of editors and agents we may never meet.

And Add an Inch

It’s odd advice that I received from a non-writer friend of mine, but it’s very pointed and helpful. I need a little bit of extra on one part of the short story, but not a lot. She guesstimated it would add an inch to the story (which is less than 1000 words).

I find it very interesting to get advice that way. It was more specific than I thought it would be, and it’s great.

It’ll be submitted in no time. Sometimes it’s better to get an opinion from someone other than another writer. [Though I’m not knocking writers- they give me wonderful help.]

What do you do?

What do you do when the words won’t come?

The ideas swim in my head like koi in the pond at the zoo, but when I try to string a sentence together, nothing’s coming out just yet. Not even blog posts- as you can see by my absence.

I’m curious what others do to beat the block. Lately I’m researching and taking a lot of notes.

A Working Schedule

Schedules don’t have to be bad things. Work has to be done, and it’s better to do it when you’re fresh – or at least when you’re ready to do it.

When I sit down to write, it’s when my daughter goes down to nap. I suppose it doesn’t really matter what time of day it is, it’s just very difficult to concentrate on my book when she’s awake.

I hear a lot of advice saying to write before she gets up, but I don’t normally get up before she does. I often keep at it after she’s asleep, but that’s only because I can’t get myself to sleep at 8pm when I make her go to bed.

If I could, I might wake up early enough to get stuff done before she wakes.

I find it interesting that one relative – her children are about my parents’ age – thought it was good to take away naps to get them to sleep better at night. I wonder if her kids were cranky. Mine would be, if I tried that on her. I’d just as soon she had her naps in the daytime when I get a chance to be productive.

Noveling

I like to have it as an official rule that I only work on one novel at a time, but it doesn’t seem to be working for me. I’m revising Don’t Tell Your Mother with some success, but … but … but … !

So, of course, when I’m trying to focus on one, ideas start pouring out of my head. What’s the deal? Why can’t they just wait until I get to that lull where the current project made it through the big rewrite and needs less attention?

It seems to happen each time I get to about this point. I don’t want to abandon the current project and leave it in a randomly drafted state. It’s less random than most of my rough drafts, but it still leaves a lot that needs to be fixed, tweaked, whatever you want to call it.

Instead of completing denying the other one, I’ve begun plotting it. I am trying to hold it off so I can focus on it. I’m not one of those people who gets enough writing time to write until I’m blocked, which means I don’t need four works-in-progress at any given time.

Not that I don’t have those, but most of them are short stories that need revision, rather than novels that are begging me to write them.

I wish I knew a faster way to revise, but my rough drafts come out fast because of my focus. I think rewriting takes more of my thoughts to get the manuscript where I want it, and that makes it slow.

Any other thoughts on that? Do you work on one major project at a time, or dabble in several at once? At what point is it okay to start on that new project? How do you know you’re done with the last one?

Are you ever done with the last one?

Another Style Guide

According to Mashable, Yahoo now has its own style guide. It differs from the AP style guide, one cited example is email where the official AP still says e-mail.

It’s not just going to be a style guide, though. There will also be tips for writing on the web and how to get traffic to see your site.

So how many style guides do we need? It’s difficult to keep up with the English language as it is, so let’s throw more options into the mix. Does it make you wonder what it takes to set yourself up as an expert? Do you need anything official to create an official guide? Who decides where the language is going, if not the people who use it?

And if it’s the people who use it, aren’t we in deep, deep trouble?

English can’t be an easy language if so many of the native speakers can’t get the written word right. (The spoken words have issues, too, but perhaps not as many due to the informality of most speech.) Is it because English keeps evolving? Because it keeps borrowing words from every other language and making up more as needed? Is the versatility that makes English good for finding a proper word also bad for learning it?

Will there be an answer if the masses believe that if someone can make out a meaning, it’s good enough? When I’m writing, I like second opinions to make certain my intent is coming through. Often it doesn’t come through exactly like I envisioned it. So I dig through the issues until I fix it.

Not that it isn’t a great opportunity for humor where there’s more than one meaning, but a writer isn’t able to turn to the reader with that condemning look and say, “You know what I mean.”

That’s one reason for a style guide – to give a set way to put things on paper. To know where to punctuate and why, along with a ton of other stuff non-writers probably don’t give much thought to.

Which is why we can bandy their words about when they put them out there. Oh, such great games to play. Almost makes me want to go start a pun war.

Dedication

I’ve been accused of being dedicated to my writing. It’s true. I was more dedicated (are there levels of dedication?) before my daughter was born.

Kids change plans because we’re not just accountable for ourselves anymore. Someone else needs time and attention and diaper changes and food. Lots of food!

Luckily she naps and gives me time to write. As long as I sleep less than she does, there’s time to squeeze it in. So you won’t find me doing laundry or dishes or any other household chores during that time, because I only keep up with them enough to get by.

I know I’ll never be an immaculate housekeeper because it isn’t that important to me. I prefer to write. Who wants to spend all their time keeping the house in perfect order anyway? My daughter scatters her toys all over the floor and it would be a full-time job to keep them – and her – corralled in one spot. If the kitchen and bathrooms are in order, a lot of the rest can slide.

Yeah, I bet a lot of you aren’t coming to my house anytime soon, but those that do can’t complain. I don’t let it get to a point where it’s embarrassing, but like the old saying goes: “on your death bed, you’ll never say you wished you spent more time cleaning your house.” Or was it at the office?

Does it really matter? If you know what’s important to you, get it done. There’s always time to squeeze in a little more. And there’s no room for belly-aching if you just didn’t want to get off the couch because there was another movie on. You can spend 30 hours a week playing video games. You may choose to do anything you want (within certain limits, such as legality and morality). It’s a choice. Live with it.

Getting in Trouble

It’s not as easy as it sounds. You send a character into the basement with a task that’s sure to land him in trouble, and he comes through with the only choice of twenty that’s free and clear.

I suppose I can’t hold it against the character for acting like a real person and trying to stay out of hot water. It’s just not where I can let him go.

That’s what rewrites are for. And I will be rewriting until I figure out which of the other 19 choices are best for him to land in an awesome pile of trouble.

Somehow.

Formula

In math, formulas are the keys to making things work. Once you understand perimeter, you can figure it out even if you don’t know the exact formula for a shape. It isn’t just geometry; math follows rules that can be put into formulas and remembered.

Stories are works of art, and I wonder if the underpinnings of formula really can be set out. It’s arguable how many plots there are out there and I’ve heard they’ve all be done before.

I guess the question is whether the formula accents the story or inhibits it. Characters and plot are two of the most important parts of the story. The formula is meant to be like a skeleton, giving a basic structure to build things. Each species has a unique skeleton (or not, in the case of invertebrates), but every type has a similar structure for a unique being.

Stories are like that. Each is unique because of the differences, not the similarities. Characters and plot lead the writer in different directions, even if the underlying plot is a formula.

However, there’s a point where the formula overrides the differences. It’s such a fine line between making it work and making it a flop. It’s not easy to know which it will be.

I’m not sure if I manage, though I try. Do you think the formulas are there because we expect them? Are those formulas there because, as readers, we find what we need from a story from the formula?