My first job in the theatre was as Acting Stage Manager -- general
dogsbody, gofer and maker of tea. I used
to help at fit ups, when the set was assembled on stage for the first time, and
was always amazed at how rough and ready it looked. The floorboards were just (apparently) clumsy
lines painted on the stage, the scenery was sketched onto flats, using heavy shadow
to suggest perspective, and most of the props were approximations, knocked up
in the workshop in very little time. Don't
worry, it'll read okay from the front, the designer kept saying. Just
distress it a bit more and it'll read okay…
You had to walk round to front of house and stand in the
auditorium to see what he meant. With proper lighting, everything was
transformed - the streaky picture frames looked like the finest gilding, the
floorboards seemed so real you could imagine them squeaking as you walked on
them and with not too much suspension of disbelief you could picture the
rolling acres glimpsed beyond the open french windows.
What the designer conjured up was a kind of verisimilitude -
providing just enough detail to engage with the imagination of the audience. It's
the same with research, when you are writing.
You need to provide enough detail for your reader to believe that you
speak with authority, because then they will accept what you are telling
them. Everything else is superfluous - it
may be riveting to you, especially if you have slaved and toiled to find it out,
but including it will only hinder the telling of your story.
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