The house that Jack built
“And ye shall know him by the house he keeps”
This might seem duh to most learned and experienced writers, but I read about a writing exercise that I thought was quite useful.
Namely, descibing your character’s house. Read more
Chick lit: what it is, what it ain’t
Picked up “Will write for shoes: How to write a chick lit novel“, and it’s actually working out to be a good read.
It’s a no-holds barred look at this sub-genre of women’s fiction, often frowned upon for its seemingly vapid nature. Cathy writes with deftness on the subject, her insights often short, snappy and sometimes funny.
But what’s most awesome is how unapologetic this author is about what the end goal of chick lit novels really are.
Namely,
- Entertain
- MAYBE give some insight to the human condition, if you’re lucky.
It is not
- the next War and Peace
- positing the cure for cancer.
It can also
- address serious themes like adultery, disease, drug addiction, unemployment, without
- taking itself too seriously, and even occasionally delights in
- taking the piss out of those who do.
And on that point about taking it all too seriously,
For those writers who take offence at reviewers and critics who call Chick Lit “fluffy”, “frothy”, or “dumb” and who want to counter by making Chick Lit novels literary heavyweights, I have only one piece of advice: switch to decaf. Seriously. As Chick Lit authors, we’ll have messages, themes, and insights, of course. But our primary job is to entertain. We’re not finding the cure to cancer here.
I heart Cathy Yardley (so far).
And yet another about the Hidden Story
Had this blog post open for a while, because I thought this writer put it well when he said,
The major players in your story must have… subterranean motivations, and ideally provide such curiosity-sparking mysteries for your readers. Perhaps you eventually reveal what makes those gears whir — in a revelatory flashback, for instance, or a final, crucial sliver of information presented in act three — or perhaps you don’t. What’s important is that you must know what makes them tick (and tic), and slyly weave these details into your narrative.
Don’t put it all on the page. Hold a few of those cards close, damned close, to your vest. And understand that if your entire knowledge of your characters is what your readers directly experience on the page, you may have written a Good story … but probably not a Great one.
Not always so easy.
I just started the first scene of the new draft – and really, it’s the prologue. I’d devised an entire back story for the Lovable Schmuck that will probably never make it to the pages – but writing the resulting voice for him? Harder than I thought. I thought I had it when I was drafting his character, but now that I’m actually making him interact with others, I’ve had to stop and think.
The trick, I reckon, is in the nugget dropping. Leaving a trail of clues along the way before the final Ah Hah at the end. And the hardest part of all: doing it elegantly. Avoiding an extra scene, when a sentence or two will suffice. Crafting the smallest moment that paints the thousand words, without detracting from the main story but adding to it.
Am I up to the challenge? I’m hoping so.
