"The easy, conversational tone of good writing comes only on the eighth rewrite." Paul Graham
For most of us, that easy-conversational-tone doesn’t come after the eighth rewrite, either. I humbly posit that the conversational tone we want comes with honesty. Part of it is getting over what we think our prose should look like, (e.g. precious and/or pretentious) and get to the simplest expression of our ideas.
The other part is truth-to-genre. To learn the “truth” of a chosen genre is the root of the old axion, “you should read 300 titles in your genre.” For some that is enough to catch the rhymes and rhythms or avenue of expression. The norms of the genre.
Of course, there are the folks who are consumed by the righteousness of their story and cede nothing to the burden of plausibility. The tone suffers as they build up fortresses of cold-stone text. I can’t enjoy or really invest much in their work. The most rip-roaring-high-flying epic fantasy has to have some underpinnings of cold-sober facts.
"You can't handle the truth!" Colonel Nathan Jessup, A Few Good Men
In season one of Titans, Dick Grayson escorts an under-aged girl, (and person of interest in a murder) out of police custody. He then boogies out of town with said girl and he’s gone for DAYS. Did I mention that Grayson is police officer?
His commander takes this in stride. No questions, no reprimands. In real life, (IRL) a Florida police officer was suspended for paying Peewee Herman’s $200 bail. Grayson would face a few days off without pay, if not termination and/or prosecution.
"Is this anyone's sandwich?" Scott Lang, Avengers Endgame
Scott Lang, (Ant Man) returns from a science trip to find half the world’s population gone. After a period of mourning and to wrap his head around the new reality, he comes up with an idea to get that half of humanity back. Now, he has to get his big idea to the guys with the resources as Scott has nothing.
With no other options, Scott drives a 1972 Ford Econoline van stuffed with scientific equipment from San Francisco to New York. When he finally gets past security and into the Avengers’ Compound, Scott immediately latches on to an unattended sandwich which Steve, (Captain America) has already declared “not good.”
The thing is, Scott would’ve had to prioritize his meager money for gas over everything else. He probably hadn’t eaten for a couple of days. That pilfered sandwich is empty-belly honest.
"Write one true sentence. The truest sentence you know and then go from there." Ernest Hemingway
The vast majority of us are striving to do what Papa said. Most of us will make our stand on that one-true-sentence hill and die there, if ego/insecurity dictate. The thing is, it’s not necessary to die on that hill. Oh, no, what is necessary is much harder.
To incorporate that “one true sentence,” (ideally with a few thousand more) into a cogent, compelling work of narrative fiction, we have to do is grow as writers. Only a few people are fully formed and capable enough to convey their every burning thought to a novel-length story with competence and economy.
Like many writers my one story idea blossomed from six to sixty. Many of those ideas will strike my fancy and then, when ignored, slink away to never to be heard from again. Those are the easy ones, I don’t have to do anything at all. Time traveling gunslinger? Yeah, that’s cute but who has time for that between work, school, and the two current WIPs fighting for any free time not consumed by cat videos?
The ideas that continue to plague me are more problematic. They periodically pop up and nag the hell out of me with “what if?” questions. That’s the line for me to get to once I deal with the current WIPs. I call it “the to-be-written line.”
“Some people think science fiction is easy because you just make stuff up. Well, try it. Try to tell a compelling story that makes sense by just making stuff up.” Harlan Ellison
The worst ideas are the ones that I know I don’t have the skill to write and write well. See, every story has an honesty requirement. But you have to have the skills to render that honesty. Theodore Geisel, better known as Dr. Seuss, was challenged to write a book for children. The editor restricted his vocabulary 250 words. If it sounds easy, try it. Try to strike the fire-alarm honesty of The Lorax with just 200-ish words. Oh, and it needs to be entertaining, too.
When I wrote my first (completed) novel, I fired through, without much thought to the mechanics. The point was to lay the hull of the story down, then worry about fitting out and making it sea-worthy in the edits. To date I’ve done countless drafts and no less than four complete rewrites. By far the hardest hurdle to clear was the idea that I had to span the gulf of morality. As a veteran crime-fiction fan, I know that we expect some sketchy behavior and shady characters. Yet as a crime writer, I became obsessed with writing turn-by-turn directions for how my car thief ended up stealing cars.
That’s where the hard part comes in. You have to write your way through it. There’s no short cut, no crit-group advice, no workshop that will help you “get” what is right in front of you. You simply have to see it for yourself. You write it and re-write it until you see that you’ve spent three months (or more, you know, whatevs…) rearranging two or three or six thousand words only to realize that you simply don’t need them.
“If you give the reader a good beginning and a good ending they will forgive just about anything you do in the middle.” Robert Cremins
So, after MONTHS of handwringing I realized, that I had laid the groundwork for my protag: abusive childhood, poverty, poor social skills with violent tendencies. Like a tragically large percentage of the kids in my Second Ward neighborhood, crime could be nothing but an eventuality.
“If at first you don’t succeed…say screw it and go do something else…” Robert B. Parker’s Spenser
Kidding. You can’t just ditch the WIP to start the next shiny idea that catches your fancy. No matter what you write, there is always going to be that level-up moment. So you have to grind until you slay that dragon.
You can’t take a break and come back to it. Because a) if you do, the dragon will be waiting when you get back and b) if you never come back to it, you’ll always wonder how that story ends.
You can take up knitting—but only after you slay your dragon and level up.
With each dragon you slay, your writers’ ear for plausibility will improve, as will your confidence. You may never reach Steven King levels of confidence. Hell, you may still agonize over every word as does, (purportedly) Thomas Harris. The thing is, whether you admit it to yourself or not, you will know that you can do it. Knitting will NOT do that for you.
The photo above, "Stop Making Sense" movie poster is the property of Cinecom and/or Palm Pictures. Its use here, for educational/illustrative purposes is covered under the Fair Use Doctrine.
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