Tuesday, September 18: High-Heeled Gumshoe
TEACHING THE CRAFT
by Melodie Johnson Howe
I taught an intensive writer’s work shop for the Santa Barbara Writers Conference this weekend. It went from nine to five on Saturday and nine to three on Sunday. For about two days a group of us were shut off from the news of O.J., pandering politicians, and the reality of our own lives. We were submerged in the world of creativity and writing. It was stimulating, at times exhausting, but always an illuminating experience. I loved it. And I hope the writers did. All of them had novels-in-progress and were eager to read and more importantly were eager to listen to the observations of the other writers and myself.
I was impressed with the high quality of the writing. There was little that was hackneyed and clichéd in this group. God knows that made my job easier and far more enjoyable. The stories were varied: a suspense adventure novel featured a lone woman in a group of men kayaking in dangerous ocean waters; a historical novel about a girl in the late eighteen hundreds confronting the harsh and cruel realities of a Colorado mining town; a young adult novel about trolls, goblins, and a teen-ager who must confront them using a defensive maneuver called the “Bogart Twirl.” There was a mystery about three women wanting to kill the lawyers they worked for. It was written by a lawyer. Another lawyer in the class had a male character, but he was a porn-driven, pot smoking loser. (Hey, where are all the strong male characters?) But at least his character was a man. And he did have great evil potential.
They listened intently to what I had to say even when it meant rewriting what they thought they had gotten right. The major problems that leapt out at me were that the dramatic situations happened too easily. They lacked tension and conflict. And in some cases their Chapter One should really be Chapter Two or even Three. The reason? Large chunks of past were slowing the action, confusing the reader, and blurring the characterization of the protagonist. The solution? Make the past the present. Start the novel earlier.
When I explained this I saw disbelief in their eyes. They looked as if I’d just hit them on the head with their manuscripts. And I thought that’s how I must look when I hear similar criticism. It is the same for all of us. Pros or non-pros. Even though we all went to dinner that night a few of the writers came back the next morning with brand new first chapters. When the past became the present the beginning of their novels came alive with a sense of immediacy.
Writers need time to ponder and digest constructive criticism. It’s not easy. First of all writers have to stop being defensive so they can hear what the instructor is saying. Writers need time to let go of what they have worked on for so long and thought they had gotten right. But what was most important was the spirit of the group. They wanted to be better at the craft of writing. They were willing to put themselves on the line.
Now what worries me about this group of writers is that they go to too many conferences. They get too many different opinions from teachers and other attendees. One writer was told she should have a dead body in the opening chapter. Well, that’s great if it works. But if it doesn’t work you might as well have a dead elephant in the first chapter. I worry that they will try to accommodate all these various views and weaken what is strong and unique about their work.
Am I also part of the problem? I hope not. I don’t have any preconceived notions about writing or teaching it. The only thing I do know for sure is that there are no rules. Alas, our genre seems to be overly burdened with them. Pick up any “How to Write a Crime Novel” book and see for yourself. I know I can’t teach talent. You either have it or you don’t. But I can teach craft and technique. I know there is a way to have a suspenseful first chapter with out a dead body. So to all of you new writers out there — throw away the so-called rules and then you might have a chance. And yes, I will allow that a large chunk of the past in the first chapter is okay as long as it doesn’t stop the novel dead.
So to all of you new writers out there — throw away the so-called rules and then you might have a chance.
It’s not so much that the rules should be disregarded as much as they shouldn’t be slavishly followed. Ideally, a writer knows what satisfies himself as a reader and applies that to his own work. There’s also a certain amount of tension between providing what’s eagerly expected and dishing out a surprise or two.
The two most common errors (to get back to rules) that I see in fiction provided to me for critique are technically poor style and too much backstory. We do not all have the same skill in crafting great sentences, but there’s never an excuse for not writing clearly. Likewise, while we ourselves may be fascinated by our protagonist’s life history, only those elements of it that are germane to the tale being told belong in the story.
The best advice I ever got in my life (it was during my brief career as an aspiring comedian,no kidding!) was from a seasoned professional comic: “just remember it’s only their advice.” he said, regarding other comic’s advice. And, Melodie, speaking of first chapters, get copies of Thorne Smith’s novels “Topper” (his most famous) and “Turnabout” (his best!) and slog through, uh, I mean read his first few chapters! Thanks a zillion for passing the craft on!