Examining Writing from Multiple Perspectives

[RitaMoore]

Books on Technique Utilized in The Novel Writing Program

 

The Art of Fiction by John Gardner

 

1. How did the book help you as a writer? What overall aspects of it taught you something?

Don’t write what you know, rather write the kind of story you know and like best. Of course this reinforces the notion that the writer MUST know the genre s/he chooses to write.

 

2. What two or three major lessons did you learn from the book that you can apply to your writing and/or your novel?

 

The first is about authenticating detail. Even in fantasy what the character says or does must fit their nature. The nagging wife turned sweet and gentle is a good example. Did she hear the kids in the next room and change her tone? If so, this has to be explicated. It’s the physical details, even if it’s a lie that pulls us into the story (Gardner, p. 30).

 

The second is writers must “be drawn into the character’s world as though they are born into it” (Gardner, p. 43). Lisa Gardner wrote somewhere that she takes perfectly happy, normal people and screws their lives up royally in her suspense thrillers. That’s true but the reason she does it so well is she gets into her characters’ heads, becomes their voice. Falling in line with this notion is that of “plotting.” Every writer has to know where the characters are, why, and what they will do next. The logic of the characters’ actions informs the plot. The writer has to make all this interesting and believable, whether consciously or unconsciously, to summarize Gardner. But, at some point, he warns, the writer has to stop tinkering with the structure and get on with the writing. Whew!

 

Third, “No fiction can have real interest if the central character is not an agent struggling for his or her own goals but a victim, subject to the will of others” (Gardner, p. 65). I made that mistake early in my novel and hope I’ve fixed it. Amanda had no spunk and I almost ditched her as protagonist until I figured out that it was my fault not hers. Her values, feelings, flaws were unclear. I like what Gardner says about how phrases may pop up often, repeating something that subconsciously the writer is trying to get across. I’ve had that experience and understand it better. Amanda really does want to give up her secret and face her past but I don’t think I was making that clear. Maybe haven’t as much as I want, yet. She’s still a bit shallow.

 

The second half of the book is really a primer for writing well. I am using it to figure out how to vary my sentence structures more carefully so not so many subjects and verbs are thudding around, distracting the reader. The use of active voice is critical.

 

3. Was there anything in the books that obviously conflicted with lessons and readings in our novel writing program. If so, what were they?

 

No, I recognized some of the exercises and really think Gardner’s advice fits well with Author Salon’s.

 

Writing the Breakout Novel by Donald Maas

 

 

1. How did the book help you as a writer? What overall aspects of it taught you something?

 

The idea that there are basic qualities of a break-out novel, some of what was expressed by Gardner for good writing: characters, events, and the ability to change or alter something in the reader. The latter is the toughest. I tried to apply that advice to Thread and wonder if the message that we’re all a little crazy, a little sociopathic, a bit narcissistic is too simplistic? We all worry about becoming our parents and we all don’t want to become victims.

 

2. What two or three major lessons did you learn from the book that you can apply to your writing and/or your novel?

 

How many times have I heard other writers say, “You have to have a big idea.” Now I get it but Maas files that idea into a neat manicure of components: Plausibility, inherent conflict, (conflict is the story and conflict is rarely dissolved), originality, and gut emotional appeal (pp. 39-50, Maas). The examples he gives of how to create a premise that is interesting because of its components is helpful, especially the need for gut emotional appeal.

 

Second, the need to always raise the stakes. I need to be sure the stakes are high enough for my characters, including the antagonist. Creating high human worth is something that resonated with me. I think this is good advice, “Honesty, integrity, loyalty kindness, bravery, respect, trust and love of one’s fellow men are all measures of high human worth. They also are the keys to making life and death stakes count, or any lesser stakes, for that matter” (Maas, p. 61). Taking everything a notch higher helped me with the first 100 pages and I could probably do more. What are the implications if Josie is behind Amanda’s attack, for example. In revisiting Maas, I think the stakes could be raised for Nathan’s actions as well. Heather’s have kind of maxed out. She protected a sociopath but Amanda runs the same risk by keeping her unborn child. Going along with raising the stakes is the idea that a shocking, visceral, easily visualized death…attracts attention (Mass, p. 63). I think I hit on that with the inciting incident of sewing Amanda’s lips together. The breakout checklist on Stakes is particularly useful. I love the way Maas uses questions to get his point across!

 

Third, Maas’s explanation of what makes setting a place is helpful. I think I’m using the psychology of place a lot in my book. Amanda feels robbed of being in her home in the mountains, having to be stowed away in Josie’s Boston flat until her home invader is identified. That’s troubling to her. Josie’s place is where the action is, hence she loves living in the city.

Also the advice about details of place creating emotion is useful (Mass, p. 99). For the sisters, some of the time they are reliving the past, a horrific setting. Sights, sounds, smells are useful components to use in getting across their emotional reactions. Depth and differentiation of character can come from setting. I think a couple of my characters are a bit flat and one dimensional so I’m welcoming the input I hope to get from the Salon team on them.

 

3. Was there anything in the books that obviously conflicted with lessons and readings in our novel writing program. If so, what were they?

 

Nothing that I remember. His advice reminded me a lot of Michael’s approach: you can do this but it isn’t for the feint of heart. I do think that Maas’s writing about character development might be more ingrained in the course. I know we did arcs, goals, etc. but his thoughts on making characters “larger than life’ and why are inspirational (Maas, p. 115).

 

Write Away by Elizabeth George

 

1. How did the book help you as a writer? What overall aspects of it taught you something? The greatest aspect was George’s explanation of POV and narrative. She made me want to practice some more for sure. The character viewpoints section (p. 85), the discussion about how the character’s voice comes from background (p. 98), and the examples on developing dialogue. This used to be my greatest weakness but I think she helped me get past some of my grammatical hang-ups.

 

Dialogue is character. The example from Mockingbird hit home. Relate to the character’s past to expand his or her character. George makes it all seem so doable, not simple, but doable.

 

2. What two or three major lessons did you learn from the book that you can apply to your writing and/or your novel?

 

First: How to write a hook! Page 70 gives clear ideas on what to do. I have read so many hooks and so many bits of advice but her list is gold.

 

Second: I mentioned it already but writing dialogue is tough unless you’re a cracker jack screen play writer. Her advice and examples are some I return to often. Things like “be careful about junk words” (p. 125) hadn’t entered my newbie mind, for example, or developing the character’s education and cultural description through simple nuances of dialogue.

 

Third: The seven step story line (p. 208) is reminiscent of the six act plot, providing some shading in places that I needed more support in such as narrative climax and dramatic climax. I think it’s clearer now in Thread that the narrative climax is Josie’s wild ride in the trunk of the car with her dead mother starring at her and the dramatic climax is Nathan’s escape. Maybe.

 

3. Was there anything in the books that obviously conflicted with lessons and readings in our novel writing program. If so, what were they?

 

Not much. I think her style is a bit less structured or maybe she just came at the same material in not such a “this is how it’s done or die,” approach. Not meaning that negatively at all.

 

The Writing Life by Annie Dillard

 

1. The book demonstrated how lonely the life of the writer is and how bleak the landscape can be. The seriousness of writing as an art form and the responsibility of each writer. “Write as if you were dying. At the same time, assume you write for an audience consisting solely of terminal patients.” Do not engage in the trivial and know the playing field. Adapt and fit yourself to the paint. (Dillard, p 68-69). Dillard challenges with the question “why read?” What do people read and why? To me, that suggests one must “write like a reader,” and “read like a writer.” She discusses the abyss that all writers surely fall into…finding themselves in the middle of something structurally impossible. Frank Lloyd Wright built houses that that and people bought them for their beauty and natural feel which often led to some disappointments when flat roofs leaked and door casings cracked with ice and snow.

 

How did the book help you as a writer? What overall aspects of it taught you something?

 

I think part that most resonates is when Dillard advises on structure. This is my greatest weakness…plotting the structure, singling out the kernel, the pith, as she calls them. Getting to the bare bones of who does what when and why and maybe even the “so what” piece.

“If you can dissect out the very intolerable, tart, hard, terribly sharp Pith or Kernel, and begin writing the book compressed therein, the sensation changes. Now it feels like alligator wrestling at the level of the sentence” (Dillard, p. 74).

 

2. What two or three major lessons did you learn from the book that you can apply to your writing and/or your novel?

 

The first lesson is don’t save something good for another book. And, don’t force it into your book even though you are in love with it. It’s only good if it works.

 

Second, always dig deeper. Really look at what’s happening and try to feel it. I’m thinking of the stunt plane flyer in the final chapter. But really, Dillard says this throughout the book.

 

Third, every writer needs a place—literally a space. Dillard’s cabin sounds downright depressing to me; however, it woke her up, made her see things differently, dream differently. I had some of the same sensation while escaping for a month from my family and grandkids, even my spouse, to live alone with my computer in a tiny condo in the middle of a bustling city, as full of quirkiness and things to observe as Annie Dillard’s cabin. It was there that I decided I could write, I wanted to write fiction and have a blast doing it.

 

3. Was there anything in the books that obviously conflicted with lessons and readings in our novel writing program. If so, what were they?

 

Maybe the adherence to outlines as structures is not as important, or important at all to Dillard. She does argue for finding structure but sometimes the six act process with requisite number of pinch points, complications, reversals, etc. seems a little like a basal reader. But, that said, I understand why you pitch it and make students adhere to it. I think you might be hoping we find our own way to simulate structure that makes sense to our writing styles in the future.