Juxtapose means to put two things side-by-side. If this was all you did with them, it wouldn't be much of a literary trick to pull off. However, it can be useful if you want to make one thing that comment on another, to highlight their similarities or differences, to question the relationship between the two objects, or to explore the effect of context. Colours change tone when you place them next to each other. The same can be true of people, who adjust their behaviour to suit different circumstances.
Juxtaposition is a tool for highlighting or offsetting something, for showing it in a different light. It can be used humorously and may introduce traces of the absurd. This van, parked in my street today, is perhaps a little exercise in juxtaposition - when is a door not door?
It made me smile, in any case.
Monday, 15 October 2012
Friday, 12 October 2012
Getting Down to the Nitty-Gritty: Why Detail Matters
British short story supremo VS Pritchett once observed, "Details make stories human, and the more human a story can be, the better," advice we lesser mortals should ignore at our peril. The use of detail is one of the major tools we have for bringing characters to life. It can also be an antidote to cliche and stereotype. To describe a woman as having blonde hair and blue eyes tells your reader nothing of any use, but if you mention that her eyes are myopic and water when she is tired and that her golden hair is showing pewter at the roots, a more distinct picture starts to emerge.
Not only does detail help to bring characters to life, it adds drama to events. If you describe a man walking into an abandoned warehouse and finding a woman lying bound on a plastic sheet, it tells your reader some of what they need to know, but by no means enough. You need to show how the man enters: does he break in, does he wander in by accident, is he expecting to see the girl there? Are there people on the streets outside, or cars passing, or are they miles from anywhere? Is there evidence of violence? Can anything be heard? Does the smell of a recently struck match suggest the presence of someone else not very far away? You can see how these minutiae transform a situation into a living, breathing drama.
Think of detail as layers of paint which an artist might add to a canvas, then sit yourself down in front of a blank page, start with the briefest sketch of a situation – perhaps the one I've outlined above, if it interests you – and try to add colour and definition, stroke by stroke. I'm channelling grit on the floor, traces of washed blood, the sound of a chain, swinging... I might have a go at it myself!
Have a great weekend....
Not only does detail help to bring characters to life, it adds drama to events. If you describe a man walking into an abandoned warehouse and finding a woman lying bound on a plastic sheet, it tells your reader some of what they need to know, but by no means enough. You need to show how the man enters: does he break in, does he wander in by accident, is he expecting to see the girl there? Are there people on the streets outside, or cars passing, or are they miles from anywhere? Is there evidence of violence? Can anything be heard? Does the smell of a recently struck match suggest the presence of someone else not very far away? You can see how these minutiae transform a situation into a living, breathing drama.
Think of detail as layers of paint which an artist might add to a canvas, then sit yourself down in front of a blank page, start with the briefest sketch of a situation – perhaps the one I've outlined above, if it interests you – and try to add colour and definition, stroke by stroke. I'm channelling grit on the floor, traces of washed blood, the sound of a chain, swinging... I might have a go at it myself!
Have a great weekend....
Wednesday, 10 October 2012
How to Do Dialogue When Writing Fiction
Good dialogue is plausible, life-like conversation which reflects the character of the speaker and helps to provide necessary information to advance the plot.
Ah-ha! But how do you write good dialogue? Spend some time – lots of it, if you have it – listening to how people speak. Eavesdrop on buses, do whatever it takes. Then, when you are ready to set to work yourself, follow these simple steps and they should help make it easier for you.
Must be time for a door...
Ah-ha! But how do you write good dialogue? Spend some time – lots of it, if you have it – listening to how people speak. Eavesdrop on buses, do whatever it takes. Then, when you are ready to set to work yourself, follow these simple steps and they should help make it easier for you.
- As an active listener, you will have noticed that people use short, fragmented sentences, so keep your sentences short as well – multiple clauses and conversation don't mix.
- Most people are fairly self-centred and more interested in what they have to say than what the person they are talking to is on about. Often they will pursue the same line of thought through a number of short speeches, barely acknowledging anything which is being said to them. Have a go at recreating this scenario yourself.
- People have vocal mannerisms – little conversational tics – you know, I mean, right. Used sparingly, and I mean sparingly, these signature phrases can help to identify a character and make their speech seem naturalistic. Don't over do this, however, as it can be irritating.
- You can put spin on dialogue by close attention to how something is said, rather than simply what is said. The same sentence can have a vastly different meaning if it is spoken differently: I love you can sound, tender, or passionate, or even vengeful.
- Repetition is fine in spoken dialogue and can help make it seem realistic, though it is to be avoided in straight prose.
- Don't be afraid to chop things up illogically from time to time. People do murderous things with syntax when they are talking: try it out, why don't you?
Must be time for a door...
Monday, 8 October 2012
Writing Fiction – Three Common Pitfalls and How to Avoid Them
When you're appraising manuscripts, it's easy to spot the work of an inexperienced writer. The most common pitfalls I come across are these:
I suspect that all of these stem from the same overwhelming urge to create. Once you discover the intoxication of spilling your thoughts across a page, it can be very hard to reign yourself in. If you enter that magical space where time passes without you realising as you write, write, write, you will feel extraordinarily protective of what you have produced there. Because writing is such a personal and intimate activity, and inspiration is not something you can always count on, you can be reluctant to make any changes to your work, in case something is irrevocably lost and the fairy dust disappears.
This is where tough love comes in. If you want to do justice to your writing, once the white heat of inspiration has passed, you may find you need to do some rigorous re-drafting.
Overwriting - It is easy to get carried away with reams and reams of superfluous description. If you discover you have a way with words, try not to indulge it too often. In fiction more than anything else, less is often more. How do you tell if you are overwriting? If you have chunks of description which aren't carrying out another function at the same time, i.e. advancing the plot, revealing something new about a character, providing a counterpoint to contrast with the mood of the scene, then that description is probably superfluous and should be cut. If you find that you are using two (or, heaven forfend, three) adjectives - the long, narrow, winding road – try and find one that will do the work on its own (the snaking road?) If you find you are saying the same thing twice, in slightly different ways, then ditch one of them. If you are repeating anything directly, jettison it right away.
Lack of Editing - Don't be over-protective of your work. The chances of getting everything right first time are zero. Apparently Martin Amis does up to six drafts of every novel and Stephen King has revealed he cuts twenty percent of the prose from his first draft. If they can do it, so can you. The dead weight of bad writing will drag your story down.
Lack of Planning – People who are starting out as writers tend to come up with a brilliant idea, so brilliant that they have to get it down straight away while it is fresh and crackling with excitement, and they charge through the first few chapters without drawing breath. Often, when this first surge of creative energy is spent, they come to a grinding halt. To follow the story's journey, at the very least you will need the sketchy outline of a map; you need to know the terrain. Some writers may find this inhibiting, they are fearful that it will impede their creativity, but my hunch is that it is much more likely to support the creative process. Having a plot mapped out doesn't mean that you can't make changes to it as you go along, but it is likely to mean that you will set up the necessary twists and turns in your story well in advance and that you won't have to rely on awkward coincidences or improbable events to get you out of a tight plotting spot. It will also protect you from the horrible moment when you sit down, look at the empty page, and think what do I write today? You will know that the next scene you need to start on is the one where they sail out of Paris on a boat, or whatever...When you know where you are going, you can go striding on your way.
- Overwriting
- Lack of editing
- Lack of planning
I suspect that all of these stem from the same overwhelming urge to create. Once you discover the intoxication of spilling your thoughts across a page, it can be very hard to reign yourself in. If you enter that magical space where time passes without you realising as you write, write, write, you will feel extraordinarily protective of what you have produced there. Because writing is such a personal and intimate activity, and inspiration is not something you can always count on, you can be reluctant to make any changes to your work, in case something is irrevocably lost and the fairy dust disappears.
This is where tough love comes in. If you want to do justice to your writing, once the white heat of inspiration has passed, you may find you need to do some rigorous re-drafting.
Overwriting - It is easy to get carried away with reams and reams of superfluous description. If you discover you have a way with words, try not to indulge it too often. In fiction more than anything else, less is often more. How do you tell if you are overwriting? If you have chunks of description which aren't carrying out another function at the same time, i.e. advancing the plot, revealing something new about a character, providing a counterpoint to contrast with the mood of the scene, then that description is probably superfluous and should be cut. If you find that you are using two (or, heaven forfend, three) adjectives - the long, narrow, winding road – try and find one that will do the work on its own (the snaking road?) If you find you are saying the same thing twice, in slightly different ways, then ditch one of them. If you are repeating anything directly, jettison it right away.
Lack of Editing - Don't be over-protective of your work. The chances of getting everything right first time are zero. Apparently Martin Amis does up to six drafts of every novel and Stephen King has revealed he cuts twenty percent of the prose from his first draft. If they can do it, so can you. The dead weight of bad writing will drag your story down.
Lack of Planning – People who are starting out as writers tend to come up with a brilliant idea, so brilliant that they have to get it down straight away while it is fresh and crackling with excitement, and they charge through the first few chapters without drawing breath. Often, when this first surge of creative energy is spent, they come to a grinding halt. To follow the story's journey, at the very least you will need the sketchy outline of a map; you need to know the terrain. Some writers may find this inhibiting, they are fearful that it will impede their creativity, but my hunch is that it is much more likely to support the creative process. Having a plot mapped out doesn't mean that you can't make changes to it as you go along, but it is likely to mean that you will set up the necessary twists and turns in your story well in advance and that you won't have to rely on awkward coincidences or improbable events to get you out of a tight plotting spot. It will also protect you from the horrible moment when you sit down, look at the empty page, and think what do I write today? You will know that the next scene you need to start on is the one where they sail out of Paris on a boat, or whatever...When you know where you are going, you can go striding on your way.
Thursday, 4 October 2012
National Poetry Day
In a recent question and answer session promoting the Cheltenham Literary Festival, Carol Ann Duffy said,
*Collective sigh of wonderment* The music of being human is the most perfect description of what poetry is, and because it is National Poetry Day I thought I'd offer up a list of some of my favourite musicians. In no particular order,"For me, poetry is the music of being human. And also a time machine by which we can travel to who we were and to who we will become"
W B YeatsI shall have The White Birds by W B Yeats going round in my head all day now – the first chords of poetry that I remember hearing...
Paul Celan
Hugo Williams
Simon Armitage
John Masefield
Sylvia Plath
Wendy Cope
Paul Muldoon
Rupert Brooke
James Fenton
and the emerging talent of West Country poet Deborah Harvey...
Which poets will you be celebrating on National Poetry Day?
Wednesday, 3 October 2012
How to Get Published? Think Big!
What with the recession and the de-stabilising effects of digital publishing, writers are finding it harder than ever before to get their books conventionally published by one of the traditional houses. Editors' hands are tied by the marketing departments, who seem to blindly read the runes of what was successful last year to try and predict what will be successful next year, rather than judging each submission on its merits. The result is a succession of pale imitations of recent hits (Jane Eyre Laid Bare? Don't get me started).
The common consensus appears to be that editors are looking for something BIG. It doesn't seem to matter what, providing it comes super-sized. So here are a few thoughts about how you might go large in literary terms.
The common consensus appears to be that editors are looking for something BIG. It doesn't seem to matter what, providing it comes super-sized. So here are a few thoughts about how you might go large in literary terms.
- Find a so-called 'high concept' for your story. This is an idea – a stroke of inspiration – so simple yet profound that it can be conveyed in one succinct sentence. Think One Day by David Nichols: charting the development of a couple's relationship on the same date over twenty-five years.
- As well as a high concept, you need high stakes: your protagonist must stand to gain or lose massively as your narrative plays out.
- High drama wouldn't do any harm, either. Don't swerve away from the big scene, leaving it to your readers' imagination; wring out every bit of intensity that you can. You need strong characters wrestling with big issues and overwhelming emotions.
- It might help if the scope of your story is wide: Hilary Mantel has made the court of Henry VIII her own in Wolf Hall and Bring up the Bodies. Both books describe a personal story that is played out on a vast canvas and has national and historical significance. Find a big stage for your characters to act upon.
- Most importantly of all, even if you are working on a grand scale, don't confuse drama for melodrama. Guard the integrity and emotional truth of your characters and remember the importance of the small, but telling detail. It's like painting an epic fresco with a miniaturist's brush.
Monday, 1 October 2012
Architecture for Writers
- Prose is architecture, not interior decoration, according to Ernest Hemingway, an interesting insight with which to start the week. If you think of your novel as a work of architecture, you may find yourself looking at the way the story arcs and intersects with more pragmatic eyes. Try picturing your book as a building, think what you will need to support the spans of the narrative - strong characterisation and a slippery plot; give it solid foundations, provide somewhere for imagination to take refuge, house your reader, make them at home.
- By concentrating on the structure of your story, you will be less diverted by the niceties of polishing your prose (that can wait for later), which means there's every chance your writing will be less self-conscious and the work as a whole more solid and robust.
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