How To Tickle
The Muse
By David Alan Owens
Unless you do the work, the world will never see your vision. -Jocko Willink
Today I wrote and revised for 3 hours. My usual activity
for early morning. Not much actual writing today, but I scoured one of my
stories in progress. I reset the anticipated plot, rearranged the sequence,
researched clothing worn by the characters, pasted the images into my story for
future reference, and deleted much of the material already written. I am never
satisfied, nor should you be satisfied. When a writer becomes satisfied, he's
made his first mistake.
Traits a good writer must pursue with vigor:
Writers must be
great observers. We watch people, their actions, the little things about
them, how they dress. We wonder whether their clothing fits properly. We store
the data in our memories, because somewhere in the future, we know we will need
the persons we watch to create memorable characters in our stories.
Does the person limp, walk with the aid of a crutch? Does
the person strut the walk of self importance – keep him, you'll need him. Does
the woman wriggle her hips when she walks, or is it the tall walk of
confidence. The boy on the street. Is one of his front teeth missing? What is
the appearance of the child's clothing. Readers will remember the child because
of his missing tooth. Anything less than focused observation will cause the
writer to write stick figures or cardboard characters.
Appearance and physical traits reinforce the character for
the reader's pleasure. The same elements drive “Show Don’t Tell.” Ask yourself
this question: “Do I love the character, or did I write them flat?” Love your
antagonists as much as your heroes. Know all of your characters – write depth
of character, and not poor images copied from movies we've seen. Create
original characters. Originality is what sells.
We must become
great listeners: To listen, instead of speaking, teaches us many things. We
learn dialect nuances, speech patterns, rhythm patterns, oddities – a
"lisp" for example, might well be usable in a story. Then we must
write the "lisp,” because unlike movies and films, we must convert a characters'
vocal traits into written words. Not an easy task, and one of the weaknesses I
always find when I edit. No matter what your pursuit, when you listen carefully
you learn. Turn your mind into a recording device. Store the information you
hear in your memory. When one injects himself into learning, the power of the
lesson vanishes. Ask this question when you write dialogue: “Does my dialogue
read like real people speak? Do they all speak in the name manner? What
variations do I employ to differentiate them from each other?”
Writing is art: The story is the core of our art,
but it isn't art. Dynamic characters aren't art. Beautiful scenery isn't art.
Plot isn't art, but a road map. The smart writer knows the map is not always
the correct map. Why? Because a plot rarely survives the scrutiny of an editor.
Create a solid Map and revise it often. Discard if the map doesn't take the
reader where it should. Find the treasure, and don't randomly search for
alternate routes. Find the true map during revision.
A simple change in a character can disrupt the plot. The
process requires delicacy not force. When you force the story, you will always
fail. I'm living proof.
Writing is
craft: Writing is also something more. We strive to master the craft, but
we are practitioners in a craft for which there are no masters. Great stories
require a balance between art and craft, but unless the two merge, the story
may flounder. This is the point where edit and revision reside.
I’ve talked with writers who think an edit is revision.
Well, sort of, but revision is far more difficult than an edit. Proper revision
is a destructive process. Destroy and rebuild.
What is an edit? Edits involve a broad scope of
knowledge. Grammar, word choice, and punctuation rule the edit. Some forms of
edit involve story only. Line edits probe deep into the words and structure,
and revision hovers alongside the editor, but the line edit is not a revision.
Complete the laborious spelling and grammar check. Solid inspection is a must.
Technical elements. Examine the technical aspects of your writing. Edit without
mercy. Edit with vengeance. If you don’t, an agent or publisher will know. Most
editors and agent can recognize the quality of a manuscript in just eight
lines. Eight lines. Those first few lines tell the agent/editor everything they
need to know about your style. Is your style strong, does it help create a
great hook, or is it dependent upon common weak techniques copied from other
writers?
Revision. Now comes the time to “kill darlings.” In
revision everything is “fair game.” In addition to the ever-present editing
factors, revision digs deeper. The process is intense. Question everything to
make sure the writing, characters, setting, plot, plot structure, grammar and
punctuation is the very best you can do. It’s a tough process and consumes much
time if you revise properly. Avoid shortcuts. Get it right and you’ll find that
elusive “satisfaction” —maybe. Does what you’ve written
reveal the true story you intended?
Originality: Vibrant writing holds the reader.
Hemingway said, “Motion is not action.” What’s the difference? Sometimes the
line that separates the two is narrow.
Examine this sentence:
“I’ll get some,” he said going to the refrigerator,
opening the door, taking out a bottle of milk, and opening it.
Everything after “he said” is motion and an awful dialogue
tag. Stick with said or asked.
Action version. Notice how word count and interest
increases.
“Hey.
Get me some milk,” Carol said. “I put a fresh bottle in the fridge yesterday.”
Jack wanted to say, “Get it yourself,” but he changed his mind. Like an
obedient servant he went to the refrigerator and opened the door. The pungent odor
of rotted vegetables assailed him. “Yuck. When’s the last time you cleaned this
thing?”
“Just get the milk and quit your
whimpering.”
(Did
you notice the second sentence Shows instead of Tells?)
Don’t revise for yourself. Revise for the reader.
Always for the reader.
Your first reader may be an agent, editor, or publisher. Your story reflects
who you are as a writer.
Don’t skimp—give ‘em a five course meal
with dessert. Cheesecake anyone?
