Reflections on Point of View and Tense

 In my last post, I shared a few thoughts on guidelines for writing a short story. As I am not good at following orders, or rules, I have broken all those guidelines at one time or another, but nonetheless, they can at least help as a self-editing tool if the story you are writing doesn't work.

I have just completed the first draft of my latest short story. Not having written a short story in ten years, I'm a little rusty, and when I got the first draft mess up on my computer and read it, I was unimpressed. It felt flat and emotionally distant. I thought I was putting in enough tension, but it wasn't translating into an intense story. It's a simple story that followed most of my guidelines. A single setting, a short timeline, few characters, minimalist description,  a linear plot, and a single POV, with the backstory revealed not in flashbacks but in internal monologue.

I could turf the whole story and start a new one, but with the submission deadline looming, I didn't think I had time. And no brilliant ideas were coming my way.

I thought about POV. The story was in what I call "deep" third person; I stay in that character's head and delves quite deeply into their reactions, thoughts and feelings. It's a POV I like and have used for all my novels, because I find first person is too limiting when writing a 300-page novel. However, first person has the advantage of drawing the reader quickly into the world of the main character. This ramps up tension and drama because the main character is talking directly to the reader. The reader is "along for the ride" most vividly in a first-person POV story.

Another technique for ramping up drama is the use of present tense. Present tense can come off pretentious, but well done, it creates a sense of immediacy, because the action is unfolding right before the readers eyes rather than in some distant past.

So I decided to see what would happen if I simply changed to first person POV and wrote in the present tense. I am only halfway through this rewrite, so I don't know how it's going to work out and whether it's going to strengthen the story, but I've already discovered a few things. First, I can get rid of most of the "she said" and "she thought" phrases, which were in themselves creating distance between the character and the reader. Second, the language needed to be more colloquial, more like a person talking rather than writing a PhD thesis. People don't think in complete sentences or big words, especially when caught up in the stress of the moment. 

By the time of my next Type M post, I should be near the finish line and able to report on which version I will submit. Meanwhile I'd love to hear your thoughts and preferences about POV and present tense, 

How the Sausage is Made

 I read Tom's entry about letting your newly-finished MS rest, below, with great sympathy and understanding. Mainly because I am doing the exact same thing right now. I've been writing on a new book, a stand-alone, I think, for over a year. For me, at least, it takes a long time to really get to know a brand new set of characters, a new setting, a new time period. I used every minute it took.

As I was writing this tome the story was wandering around in the wilderness, looking for the path to take it to the end. Every two weeks I would submit 20 pages to my critique group, and I almost always got positive feedback on the direction of the tale, my style, etc. As I wrote, I kept tweaking the plot. The direction kept changing, sometimes subtly, sometimes with a screeching u-turn. As I approached the climax, the end did not quite match the beginning any more. I knew there was some major rewriting in store.

Then the day came that I submitted the final pages - the reveal, the denouement. And my group hated it. Part of the problem was that for the past year, I've been submitting 20 pages ever 2 weeks. the group didn't remember many of the clues I'd dropped early on. The rest of the problem was that over that long year, I overthought everything and ended up with a much too convoluted reveal.

So. Time to let the story rest for a few weeks.

For me, this is how the sausage is made. It happens to me a lot, though not usually in such spectacular fashion. My first draft beginnings very often don't match the ends, because I keep getting brilliant ideas as I write. Or more properly, my characters get brilliant ideas and won't do what I thought they ought to do.

In any event. The story is resting and ripening in a drawer, and I've been sharpening my knives in anticipation of killing a lot of darlings in the MS. As the theatre manager character says in the movie Shakespeare in Love, it'll turn out fine. I don't know how. It's a miracle.

Since this is my last entry before Christmas, let me wish you Dear Readers a very happy Holiday Season, and may the upcoming year bring you blessings. (Please!) And here's a photo of our lovely tree for your enjoyment.

 

Rewrite Time

 I've finally finished the first draft of my new book, and have begun the rewrite. We've all heard many times that writing is rewriting, and anyone who's ever scribbled a page knows it's true. At least I've never met a literary Mozart, whose first draft is so perfect that it doesn't need any alteration. In fact, most authors I know, even very well known and accomplished authors, think of their first drafts as something too embarrassing to be seen by anyone. It's the rewriting that makes the book. If I may repeat something I've written here before – and never let it be said I missed an opportunity to repeat myself – you have to have that block of marble before you can carve out a statue of David.

Rewriting is the fun part, as well. The first draft is eked out of you like bone arrow, but with the rewrites, you have something to play with, to refine, to remodel, to put makeup on and make beautiful. I've begun rereading and adjusting, making sure the beginning matches the end. After the first draft, my beginnings never do match the end, for somewhere in the middle of the writing, I changed my mind about this character, or this action, or this story line. And I didn't waste time by going back to the beginning and fixing it to fit my new vision. No, no, that way lies madness. I can get (and have gotten) caught up in an endless merry-go-round of fixes and never reach the end of a first draft. I just keep going until the MS was done, with every confidence that I can repair all the inconsistencies in the next draft.

As I reread the story, it's interesting to see how it all turned out, to remember what I originally had in mind and see how the tale changed as I moved through it. Questions come up as I put all my ducks in a row. Here is one I always struggle with: how much explanation is too much?

For instance, there is what looks like a coincidence in one scene of the new book. Coincidences do happen in life, but you've got to be very careful about putting one in a mystery story, lest the action seem contrived. And yet, when I set about to explain how this coincidence came about, I didn't like it. Too much exposition and not enough action.

Do others of you writers out there struggle to find a balance between making it real and making it exciting, or romantic, or terrifying, or however you want it to turn out?

I've read and loved many books that elide over illogical plot points. Some best-sellers, too. As long as I like the story and the characters, I don't really demand existential reality in my reading. Yet I don't like holes in the plot big enough to drive a truck through. They take me out of the story. Have I done that, or shall I let my coincidence stand and devil take the hindmost? I'll have to let my pre-readers tell me what they think.

After THE END

In my last blog, I posted that my work in progress refused to end, rambling on way past the expected word count with endless complications to be solved. I had set an unofficial deadline back in the spring of September 15 to finished the first drat, but it was now looking dicey.

Well, I did it! Sliding into the finish line at 9:05 p.m. on  September 15. It is a great feeling to reach the end of the first draft, because until that point, I am never sure the clumsy, chaotic collection of words and ideas will make a book. I'm never quite sure what the story is about and whether it will all tie together.

Writing THE END is very satisfying. As bad as it may feel, it's a book, and now I can work on making it a good book. I ought to know, after 20 successfully written books, that it will always end up being a book, but the doubts never really leave. This time may be different; I may truly bomb. This time I've lost my touch. Etc. etc.

Now I can breathe easy. I know how to do rewrites. How to fix plot holes and strengthen characters, how to tighten and expand, how to enrich and focus the story. Like a sculptor, once the basic shape is there, the rest is refining. Since I am largely a pantser, there are usually a lot of plot holes to fix, things that no longer fit or that need to be properly set up so the story ties together. There are some blind alleys and weed wandering that need to be culled. Day of the week, time of the day, and weather have to be consistent. And in the process, I have to lose about 5000 words.

And most important of all, I have to do research to make sure of details. When I am writing the first draft, I do not stop to reread or edit what I've done, or to look things up; I just keep ploughing ahead toward the climax of the story. My first job during the rewrites is to check my facts. So I read through the manuscript, correcting obvious typos, spelling and grammar mistakes, and I create a list of the things I have to research. If they are easy, like checking how to unload a Glock, I Google it and correct it on the spot. But if it requires a trip to a location, like the courthouse, the transit station, or a particular restaurant, I put it on a list and plan outings when I need a break. If it requires me to consult an expert like a police officer or archivist, I send off an email query or plan a visit. All of this stuff is fun.

I mentioned in my last post that the WIP still had no title. This is an interesting but frustrating part of writing. Until the book has a title that resonates with me, it's not complete. Finding a title is always a challenge. Along with the book cover, it's the reader's first introduction to the book. It can intrigue and excite, create the wrong impression, sound cliched or pretentious, or turn readers off. It should match the tone of the book (humorous, suspenseful, thoughtful). Certain words and phrases create expectations. Words like 'terror' suggest a thriller, 'ghost' suggests possible horror, animals suggest cozies. Short, single-word titles suggest a thriller, puns are strictly for cozies. The title should reflect the book's theme in some way without giving away the solution. "A Nephew's Revenge" may give too much away, for example. 

The title is like the cherry on the top of the sundae. It makes it perfect, so it must be chosen with care.

One of my favourite tricks is to look for a phrase while I'm re-reading the first draft that jumps out as both catchy and on point. Today I hit upon such a phrase, so I am quite excited. It may end up being supplanted by something better, so I won't mention it yet, but it's much much better than the working title I've had since I began back in January. Once I am farther along in the rewrites and the publisher has agreed to the title, I will let you know. So stay tuned!

Meanwhile, tomorrow I'm off to visit the courthouse.

Reaching the end

This is the height of the summer, and up here in Eastern Canada, we've been enduring an unprecedented, prolonged heat wave. What is it with 2020 anyway? Being an arctic species, we Canadians fall into a stupor once the temperature soars above 30 degrees C. Usually this is accompanied by enough humidity that you can wring out your hair after a five-minute walk.

I've been writing the first draft of my next Inspector Green novel in fits and starts for months. Humming along nicely in February and slammed to a halt in March by the pandemic. Spent two months obsessively reading news, checking numbers, sewing masks, and listening to our PM's daily briefings. Picked the novel up again in May when I found I could concentrate enough to write a coherent paragraph. And then in June to July, turned to a sloth by the heat. BUT... Drumroll...

This afternoon I finally wrote THE END on the final page of the first draft of Green #11. It weighs in at 89,050 words and 352 pages. That will no doubt change, with the paring down of blubbery prose and the fleshing out of characters and subplots I didn't know I needed. There is much work to be done yet, but at least I now know it's a book, which is a tremendous relief. It is a story with a beginning, middle, and end. There are characters who can be tweaked but who know what their job is. And it now has a title that may stick around! THE DEVIL TO PAY.

One of the challenges I face in the rewrites is that because of the pandemic, I wasn't able to do much of the research I planned to do or discovered I needed as the book went along. So I had to rely on Mr. Google or make stuff up. I made a lot of stuff up, like the procedures the Ontario Provincial Police uses when investigating a homicide, or the protocols followed for bail hearing in the Ottawa courthouse. I want to avoid being contacted by an astute lawyer reader who says "That's not how it's done at all." I'd like to talk to the OPP, I want to visit the courthouse, but neither are feasible right now. I also don't know how protocols will have changed by the fall of 2021 when this book hits the shelves. Will there still be masks and physical distancing, or will we all be rejoicing in our post-vaccine freedom?

So for now I will research what I can, contact my police friends and other experts to answer the questions that have cropped up, and make a note of what will have to wait until the book is in the final editorial phase with the publisher (like the vaccine info). I may also have to live with some of the stuff I made up. It is fiction, after all.

So I have printed the draft out, and as of tomorrow, I turn from THE END of Draft One to Chapter One, Draft Two. And begin to tear the whole thing apart, with the file of notes and questions compiled during first draft at my elbow. But for now, I'm going to pour a glass of wine. And do a little jig. (Photo not provided).

Navigating the first draft

Well, as usual in Canada, we have gone from winter last week to mid-summer this week, and all around us, nature has burst into life. Plants have exploded and all the birds are singing as if to make up for lost time. The lilac bushes and flowering fruit trees are laden with fragrant blossoms, and it's sheer heaven to walk down the street. Well, perhaps not at high noon today, because it's sweltering.

Given the pandemic, we can be forgiven for not knowing what day it is. Even what month it is. But since we also know winter will be back, perhaps next week, we'll seize the day. I'm plodding along on my manuscript, which doesn't seem to want to end. I am beginning to have an idea of the climax, which is always a relief, and I think I know whodunit, although I've been known to change my mind at the last minute, but I still don't know how they're going to get caught. This is an essential element in mystery/ suspense novels. I have to develop an exciting climax while keeping the reader and if possible the detective guessing about who they're chasing and how it's going to end, up until the gotcha moment. Let's hope I figure that out before I hit 200,000 words. My contract says 90,000.

My first draft is usually fairly bare-bones as I rush to discover what the basic story is and who the characters are. In rewrites, I almost always add words because I enrich the detail of the setting and the characters, or realize I need another scene or two to flesh out a crucial subplot, fix plot holes, etc. So a 100,000+ first draft does not bode well. I know I can tighten scenes and pare my prose down, but to end up with a net loss of 10,000 words is going to take work. I may even have to turf out scenes and combine plot points.

There is a certain thrill to rewrites. During first drafts, I never know if the story is actually going to be a book, even though every other time I've written a draft, it's ended up being a book, so I should trust the process. But that's the uncertainty of the creative unknown. But once I reach the end of the draft, I can see it's a book; however imperfect, it's something I can work on. Add, subtract, deepen, fix, polish; it's all satisfying without the terror of the unknown.

If at the end of the process I have produced a brilliant, perfect, 100,000-word book, I'll throw myself on the mercy of my editor, who usually has a very sharp pen.

NaNoWriMo Time Again

This year -- once again -- I intend to participate in National Novel Writing Month. I say "intend" meaning I will sign up again and try to complete the challenge. In case you've never heard of this annual event, the challenge is to write 50,000 words in November.


 Many writers -- published and unpublished -- take part in the event. Many swear by it as an opportunity to focus on a work-in-progress or start a new project. Many see it as a way to power through a first draft, to get something down on paper.

However, even though I've tried this in the past -- a few years ago and again last year -- I have never gotten beyond the first few days. My life always intervenes. I have a day job, and there are things I must get done. But my larger problem -- or challenge -- is that my writing habits don't follow the guidelines. I don't sit down to write every day. I make notes. I scribble on sheets of papers. I sit down at the computer when I have chunks of time and scenes that I have been working on in my head that I am ready to write.

My process works, but it is messy and slow. Eventually, I'm always forced to withdraw from the world and sprint to the finish line. This works when I have a concrete deadline. But with this big book, my 1939 historical, all I have is my commitment to my agent and myself that I will get it done. I'd like to do that before we both are another year older. So, in November, I'm going to try to make NaNo my time to sprint.

I hope that committing to a month of being disciplined -- of designating a time to write and sitting down to do it -- will help me get to the finish line. I am not a pantser, but I have done my character bios and my plot outline. My research is at the point when I need to be deep into the story to know what else I need to know. I can keep writing and fill in whatever is missing in my knowledge of 1939 later.

I am hoping that this year, I will be able to use my advance preparation and my strong desire to get this book done to override my own plodding process. I need to finish a book that is closer to 100,000 words than 50,000, but I will not be starting from scratch. I don't care about registering my word count. I only want to make a public commitment. I want to set myself up for 30 days of nagging. That's the kind of "support" I need. I know I can write a book. I want people to hound me about getting this one done.

I am going to sign up with the local NaNo group. I am going to get support (nagging) from my Sisters in Crime and my local RWA chapter. I am going to pay myself ten dollars a day and reward myself  with an expensive treat if I make my word count.

During November, I will be using my post to report in. Please nag. Don't tell me I'm doing well. Ask me if I am going to get my 50,000 words done.

Is anyone else planning to do NaNoWriMo? Anyone done it and had great success getting a draft done?

Waiting for It

I don't have a long post today because I need to get back to writing. I'm moving back and forth between two first drafts. The nonfiction book about dress and appearance is almost done. The 1939 historical finally feels do-able.

This comes after days, months, years of struggle with both books. Books that simply refused to be written. This breakthrough on both fronts seems to suggest that some books can't be written until we believe they should exist. I started out with two ideas that I thought were good, that I thought would be great books. I wanted -- really, really, really wanted -- to write both books. I did research. I wrote. I edited and revised and tried again. I tried to pin down the elusive themes in each book. I kept telling myself and other people that both were coming along.

And I kept pulling my hair out. Then this summer both came together. That happened when I looked at the world and realized what it was that I needed to say. Once I knew that -- once I stopped playing it safe and making it pretty -- I could see both books as if they already exist. It isn't about outlining. It's about tuning in. I'm finally in flow.

For example, on Wednesday, I was at the ATM. Directly across the street, a blind man was walking into a restaurant on the arm of a younger man. That evening, I had a twist for the 1939 novel that fell into place because I had happened to re-watch a 6-minute documentary the day before. And then I saw the blind man going into the restaurant. I don't know if I will use the scene that I wrote and that now opens the book. But I now have the twist that will get me through the middle of the book.

With the nonfiction book about dress and appearance, I kept telling myself there was no reason I couldn't finish the last three chapters and the conclusions. Both were outlined. I had done the research. Why couldn't I write? And then I was watching the news. And I realized that I couldn't finish the book -- as much as I had struggled -- because I needed that moment when my theme fell into place. If I had finished a year or two ago, I wouldn't have understood what I needed to say with such clarity.

I'm sure I'm not the only writer who has had this experience. Anyone else have a story of struggling even more than usual with a first draft. Then finally having a moment of clarity when it all fell into place?

Back to work.

The Fork in the Road

When last we met at this spot on March 22, Dear Reader, I (Donis) wrote about reaching the middle of my work in progress. I was feeling like I had veered off into the weeds and was having to slog my way around a bit in order to find my way back onto the road. In the two weeks that have passed, I have managed to get back onto the highway and get moving again. So here I am, speeding along nicely, when much to my discomfort I come to a fork in the road. Which way should I go?

You may wonder why I don’t have a map. Well, I did, once. Kind of. But my map no longer leads me to where I want to go. I was told once by a mystery author (who also happens to be a lawyer - a significant detail, I think), that before she begins writing, she outlines each and every one of her novels to the tune of at least one hundred pages, and never deviates therefrom.  One Very Big Name of my acquaintance never outlines at all, or even has much in mind when she begins her mammoth novels.  She writes dozens of seemingly unrelated episodes, then arranges them in some sort of order and cobbles them together with new scenes and segues.  This technique may sound pretty slapdash, but it seems to work for this woman, since she could buy and sell us all.

I have done both.  Each book seems to be a whole new order of creation for me, and demands its own unique method of coming into being.  I’ve been known to outline before I begin when I think that would help me clarify the direction of the plot in my own mind.  I have also simply started writing, usually at the beginning, but I’ve started in the middle and the end, as well.  More than once I’ve begun a novel on the fly, and then gone back and created an outline because I’ve gotten myself into a muddle and can’t quite figure the way out. It’s not like this has never happened to me before, and I must remember that miraculously it always works out. As I write the first draft, my beginnings never do match the end, for somewhere in the middle of the story, I changed my mind about this character, or this action, or this story line. I try not to waste time by going back to the beginning and fixing it to fit my new vision. No, no, that way lies madness. I can get (and have gotten) caught up in an endless merry-go-round of fixes and never reach the end. I just have to keep going until the book is done.

When I was a pre-teen, I spent several summers at Girl Scout Camp, way out in the woods outside of Locust Grove, OK. One of our activities was something called a Penny Walk. We would hike down a long, maze-like path through the woods, and every time we came to a fork in the trail, the point-girl would toss a penny to decide which way to go.  Every walk was different from the one before, yet we always found our way back.

So I hope to construct this new novel like a penny walk, and every time I come to a fork in the road, I’ll make a decision which way to go, and trust that it will lead me home.

Now or Later

Barbara's post on Wednesday reminded me again that I shall never a pantser be. Every time another writer describes the process of plunging in and powering through a first draft, I am stunned. Well, not as much as I used to be. But I am still struck by how different our processes are when it comes to writing a book. 

I think of myself as a hybrid, falling between pantsers and plotters in my approach. But the truth is, even though I don't put every scene down on paper before beginning, I do have a mental outline. That outline in my head evolves and changes as I get to know my characters. I need to know my characters pretty well before I can begin to write. I need to know what motivates them. I may be wrong, but I need to believe I know why they are about to do what I expect them to do. Of course, sometimes as I learn more, they do something I didn't expect. In fact, that often happens. But I set out with the sense that I know what is going to happen and why.

Instead of plunging in, I try out scenes in my head. I have gotten better at this over the years. But it is still a lengthy process. I have been trying to get past the first couple of scenes in my 1939 thriller for months. I thought the opening scene would be at Lincoln Memorial on Easter Sunday. While I was at a writers retreat in Vermont last summer, I dashed off that first scene to share during our evening reading. I thought I would be able to move on from there. I had introduced my protagonist. I had introduced his foe. We were ready to be off and running. But here I am, months later, writing and rewriting that scene.

I've mentioned before that I need to warm up before I can begin to write. That first fifty pages that I write over and over. But this has been something different. Even though I thought I was beginning the book in the right place, it felt wrong. I tried going back to the train station and showing my protagonist, a sleeping car porter, rushing to get to Marian Anderson's concert. Stopping to help a woman find her grandchild in the crowded station, trying to get a taxi, arriving late and finding himself in the back of the crowd. Seeing his antagonist. . .

I thought I had it when I wrote that scene. It took me two tries and two failures to launch to realize that opening was wrong, too.

Then a few days ago it came to me. A scene involving my villain that was directly related to the title of the book and that neither he nor I saw coming. What happened scared us both silly. If my villain is on his own "hero's journey," he is now committed to his path. And that elevates the encounter with my protagonist at Lincoln Memorial -- an encounter that I can write from my protagonist's point of view with no words spoken between them. 

I think it's going to work. It feels right. But I still haven't put it down on paper because what happens in my new first chapter has given me information that I didn't have before about my villain.

A pantser would plunge forward. I'm deliberating. Hybrids and plotters are more prone to edit as we go along. To edit before we even start to write. To edit as we are writing. That doesn't suck the life out of the story for me. But it does mean that the first draft does take forever to finish.

On the other hand, when I write "the end,"there are revisions left to do but no major rewrites. My revision process begins with the chapter summaries I wrote as I was doing my preliminary work. I compare what I expected to happen in my book to what actually happened. I often do an outline of the first draft so I can look for gaps and gaffes. After a read-through I'm ready to send the first draft to my beta readers. I need to send it away so that I can take a break and let the manuscript set before I plunge into revisions. . . assuming I have the time to do that. The downside of taking so long to get started is that one has less time if a deadline is looming.

But I can't do it any other way. I need to ponder and back track and stare at the wall for days and weeks and months before I can start. I need to edit as I go. I think it has much to do with personality. Spontaneity is not my middle name. But I do enjoy planning.

It seems to come down to now or later. Crawl along, cleaning up as you go and tidy up later. Or, plunge in, get a first draft and then do a major clean-up. No getting around it. However we do it, writing a decent book requires writing and revising. Now or later.

Right to the Point

Donis here. My latest book, All Men Fear Me, will not hit the shelves until November. But since one can't afford to let the grass grow under one's feet, I’ve started working on the first draft of a new novel. It will be the ninth book in my Alafair Tucker series. At the moment the extremely original working title is Nine. I’m planning on coming up with a perfect title later. Usually I wait until one of the characters says something pithy and to the point, at which moment I say to myself, “Hmm, that would be a good title.”

I’m always trying to find the perfect word to convey the subtle shade of meaning that I want, both in my titles and in my manuscripts. My first drafts are filled with blank spaces, which I leave because even though I can think of one hundred nouns/verbs/adjectives/adverbs that would be adequate in that place, I know the Absolutely Perfect Word exists, and I can’t quite come up with it. However, I can’t afford to spend fifteen minutes wracking my brain for it, so I leave a blank and torture myself with it on the rewrites. Sometimes I do end up having to use one of those one hundred almost-right words, but when I do, I feel a sense of abject failure.

Trying to convey some subtle meaning is only one reason why I strive to find the perfect word. Sometimes the way the sentence sounds, the poetry of it, only works with a particular combination of words. I have been know to write a narrative in the voice of one character, and then decide later that it would be better to have a different character experience the event and tell us about it. Changing the point of view necessitated a major change in language, even though the gist of the scene was the same.

I heard a Famous Author say that one of the best things he ever did to improve his prose style and technique was to learn to write poetry. He thought that there is nothing like poetry to teach a writer how to use the fewest possible words to make the biggest possible impact on the reader.

The amazing thing is that once you have written a few poems and learned how to fit your idea into the shortest possible form, your long-form style automatically changes without your having to even think about it. Your prose gains a vigor that it didn’t have before, because its power is no longer dissipated in a miasma of unnecessary words.*

I read that if you ask an author why he writes, the better and probably more successful writers will answer that it’s because they love language. I think that learning how to use language is like learning to play of a piano. Language is a writer’s instrument, and if she doesn’t practice, study, experiment, and play with it, she might end up writing “Chopsticks” instead of Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy”.
________
*Case in point …a miasma of unnecessary words.