by Darcy Pattison

Q: How do you go deeper into a character’s voice?

A. I wonder if this question is about the character’s voice or about characterization in general. When a critiquer says you need to go deeper into a character’s voice, it could be either.

Characterization

If characterization is the problem, there are a couple things you might consider. First, novels enable a reader to get into the hearts and minds of a character. In movies or theater, you never know directly what a character feels/thinks; you can only know it indirectly from their actions and dialogue. But in a novel, readers can experience an event with the character.

If the reader is feeling like s/he wants to be deeper into a character, consider looking at how you are expressing the characters thoughts, hopes, dreams, angers, fears, etc. Partly it’s the emotional response, but sometimes, it’s just the thought process: does the character make snap decisions, or take a long, circuitous route to a decision. For each small action, the character should have a reaction. Certainly for every scene, the character’s reactions should be clear.

Second, consider how unique your character is, or could be. We don’t read to experience mediocrity. We want characters who are interesting, outrageous, pathetic, loathsome. Out of the ordinary. Bigger than life (to use a cliche).

Voice

If voice is the problem, then you’ll look to your language. A friend was having trouble with a novel in which a dragon was a main character. We talked about what sort of language the dragon would use. My friend decided that he would use lots of “s” words, would have very long sentence structures to show that he liked to hear himself talk, and would always be formal. She revised, trying to incorporate these things. It was a rather mechanical sort of thing to try.

But a surprising thing happened: about halfway through the revision, she stopped thinking consciously about how to create the dragon’s voice. Instead, those language characteristics had BECOME the dragon’s voice.

The writer didn’t “find” the voice. She didn’t use trial-and-error and hope she got a good voice. She made a conscious decision based on characteristics of language that created a certain type of rhythm patterns, a tone of formalism and self-importance, and worked with those variables until it became the only possible voice for this dragon.

This is the new look for Revision Notes.

Still lots to do here:

Article Index

I’ve imported all the articles from the old blog and am going through them tagging them. When this is done, you can click on the Article’s Index and see them listed by category. Try it now to see which ones have been added so far.

Translations

Wordpress, the blogging platform I’m using, has several programs to do automatic translations of the text. I’m looking at several and hope to install one soon.

Privacy Policy

I need a privacy policy! I’m looking at samples and should have that up soon, too. Basically, I won’t share any information with anyone; I’ll only collect information needed for newsletters.
Update: See the privacy policy here.

Keep in touch

1. Newsletters

I’ve included new ways for you to keep in touch with me. On the Contacts page, you can sign up for one of two newsletters. One is for general information and updates; the other is for those only interested in information about Revision Retreats or information related to revising your work.

2. RSS feeds

You can also click on the orange RSS feed button on the left and add me to your feeds.

Miscellaneous

Is a blog or webpage ever done? I’ll add a Recent Articles and Links to the Sidebar ASAP, too. Is there anything you’d especially like to see? Any comments on the new look? Try out the comments and we’ll see how well it works!

Darcy

by Darcy Pattison

The only real readers are flashlight readers.

Real writers take risks.

Do villains really have to be politically correct?

Libraries are learning to cater to digital natives.

by Darcy Pattison

First, write a scene. If you?re going to interrupt the on-going action to insert this backstory then at least give the reader a full scene that will keep their interest. The trickiest part of a flashback is getting into in and out of it. Try to do it with a single sentence both times. One sentence signaling a time shift, and then go straight into past tense like you would in any scene. ?I remember that cloudy evening, the night before the tornado. Dogs whined restlessly, cattle kicked over buckets of full milk, and chickens scratched endlessly at the dust, all warnings that something bad was coming.? Coming out of it, use a single sentence again. ?I walked away without a scratch on the outside, but felt like a stray splinter of wood had stabbed my heart. Now, looking at Jeremiah, the coward of that night of horror, I couldn?t believe he was asking me to be brave.? (Wow! Where did THAT story come from? I was just trying to think of something exciting, to demonstrate that the flashback needs to be a high point or a low point in a character?s life, something worthy of a dedicated flashback. There also needed to be some emotional hook, so you can sense that the Jeremiah?s behavior during the tornado was cowardly and that affects the current scene.)

Ways that Flashbacks can go Wrong

1. Too much exposition. Give the reader a scene, not pages of compressed exposition. Work the facts they need to know into the scene just like you would into any scene. 2. Watch verb tenses. The conditional tense that uses the ?would? construction is awkward and should be avoided. Sometimes, you want to indicate that, for example, watching fireflies in the evening was a habit of your family. You write something like this: ?Every evening we would gather on the lawn and wait for dusk. We would slap at a few mosquitoes, would murmur quietly in the heat, and would sip ice tea. We would wait until the fireflies would start winking, and then the chase would begin.? That?s too awkward. Instead, use the one ?would? construction and go straight into the past tense. Use a single ?would? to come out of it. ?Every evening we would gather on the lawn and wait for dusk. We slapped at a few mosquitoes, murmured quietly in the heat and sipped ice tea. We waited until the fireflies started winking and the chase would begin.? 3. The flashback has no connection to the current time in the story. Why include this flashback? It must up the stakes, provide motivation, increase the emotional tension; it must relate to the current story in a vital way. Any other problems with flashbacks?

by Darcy Pattison

Last week, I made a few comments about backstory, but I wanted to spend more time on it.

Impact of Reading SFF

Many of my thoughts about backstory are shaped by the needs of fantasy and science fiction writing (sff) where the writer creates a world, complete with complex histories and magical norms. The challenge in this genre is to communicate this complexity, without stopping for a history lesson. Orson Scott Card has an excellent chapter on handling exposition (and backstory) in his book, How to Write Science Fiction and Fantasy.

Basically, the information is filtered through the main viewpoint character. Specific terminology, even if unfamiliar, is helpful and implication is essential. Often a phenomenon is named, but the explanation isn’t given immediately for what this means. Sff readers understand this as one of the conventions of the genre and don’t mind waiting and pondering the meaning until the right time comes for an explanation. My friend who write middle-grade non-fiction chaffs under the sff conventions, because she feels that the explanation must come immediately and be placed right next to the unfamiliar term. But for fiction, terms can be understood partially in context and the sff reader waits for more.

So, I come from a reading background of understanding huge chunks of backstory through the techniques of implication, slow revealing of complexities, intrigue, and I’m comfortable with a certain degree of ambiguity, as long as I trust the author that the answers will come eventually. It?s part of the appeal of the genre (and why many dislike it!). So, before we even start the discussion of where to put backstory, I?m comfortable with delaying it a while, both as a reader and as a writer. I know that one of the cliches of contemporary stories is a first chapter with lots of immediate action and a second chapter of backstory. But I think stories are stronger if the backstory doesn’t stop the flow of action.

(I wonder if there has been any study of how children of different ages perceive backstory? I’ll have to look this up later! If I find anything interesting, I’ll report.)

Diadvantages of Early Backstory:

1. Pulls the reader out of the current time flow. “Ideally, all fiction should seem to be happening now.” Sol Stein, Stein on Writing. ?One of the most common ways that inexperienced and even practiced novelists bog down their openings is with unnecessary backstory.? Donald Maass, Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook.
2. Backstory tends to “tell” a story instead of show it. “Again and again in manuscripts I find my eyes skimming over backstory passages in chapters one, two and even three. Backstory doesn?t engage me because it doesn?t tell a story. It does not have tension to it, usually, or complicate problems.” Donald Maass, Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook. Wow, are you in trouble if a reader (especially an agent like Maass) is skimming chapters!
3. The use of flashbacks for backstory is often awkwardly handled. More on this tomorrow.

Advantages of Backstory

1. Deepen inner conflict. Backstory can provide motivation for the conflict, deepen the emotional effects and let the reader empathize with even the villain.
2. Increase tension. Hinting at backstory, but not telling all makes readers long to know the ?secrets,? too. We read on, to find out what secret is so terrible that it provides the motivation for this conflict.

Usually backstory, especially flashbacks, should be put at a point where it will enhance the tension and conflict of the story. You can think of a story of a collection of scenes, followed by characters reflecting upon the scene and deciding what to do next, which leads to the next scene. Scene, reflection/decision, scene. Often the backstory needs to come in that in-between stage where the character is reacting emotionally to the events of the scene that has just happened. For example, Gloria slaps Joe. So what? What are the readers supposed to make of that? What does it mean? We don?t know. The scene could progress without the explanation until Joe turns around and makes a fast exit. Then, Gloria has the time to react emotionally. That?s the point for a flashback that explains that Joe once accused her of embezzling money and let her stand trial, even though it was Joe who had stolen the money. Ah, now the backstory explains and deepens the tension. But an early chapter that goes into this long story of how Gloria and Joe worked together for many years and Joe was Gloria?s mentor and they even had a brief affair that Gloria?s husband still doesn?t know about?that?s boring stuff. It doesn?t help Gloria make a decision about what to do next. It doesn?t add to the present conflict, even if it does explain it somewhat. First drafts tell the story; revisions find the best way to tell the story. Finding moments where backstory can up the stakes, increase the emotional depths, increase tension, deepen characterizations?these are worthy goals of a good revision.

Tomorrow: Writing a Flashback

by Darcy Pattison

Future of Revision Notes

Since I posted about Backstory on last week, I’ve been thinking about the topic all weekend and will post more about it tomorrow. Look for it!

I am also planning to move my blog to my own domain and off LiveJournal. The change should happen about July 1, so watch for the announcement. I’ve decided to do this, so I can have more control of how I lay out things, what plugins I use on the blog, how I monitor traffic and lots of other issues.

The process of moving has been interesting. I’ve always used AOL for my webpage host and only used publically available software. Moving to my own domain, I’m finding that it’s a “buyer beware” world out there. Every time I try something new, there are bugs that have to be ironed out. I’m pretty good at doing this, but it’s been interesting to see how often this happens. Of course, part of that is I don’t always know what I’m doing! But part of it is just the nature of the web community.

For example, I’m switching to WordPress as my blogging platform (probably–still looking at b2evolution, but it has much less support in terms of plugins and other flexibility). I liked one theme/skin (the way the blog looks) and downloaded it and played with it for a while before I noticed that the code didn’t validate.

I was, well, shocked, that someone would release a less-than-perfect theme. Yes, I’m naive about the web! My experience has been with AOL, remember, which doesn’t release anything without making sure there are few problems (And yes, I?m sure there are some who would disagree with that, but it’s been my experience, anyway.)

This Buyer Beware mentality is different, but interesting. Anyway, I?m working through all the issues needed to switch over. I’ll post on both this journal and the other for a while to give you time to switch. But look for the change.

Interesting Links

Editor, Cheryl Klein has posted a speech she did on writing picturebooks.

Lots of changes in how the education community is using the internet to teach.

Art v. Design. The quotes here are fascinating, and relate to everything about good book design, or even to how blogs are designed, how stories are delivered online, and lots about our daily lives.

The sounds of language affect voice, yes? Here’s an article about Keats poetry and his use of vowels, interesting in the context of a voice discussion.

Fascinating discussion of the “class” differences of teens (and military personnel) who utilize Facebook v. My Space. I don’t know enough to have an opinion about it, but it?s something to watch. Particularly, as lots of writers use these social networks to publicize their new books.

by Darcy Pattison

Voice. It’s a confusing, complicated topic. Do you have questions you want discussed, dissected, batted around? I don’t always have answers, but I like thinking about the nuances of voice. Please post Voice questions or Revision questions here, or email me privately at darcy at darcypattison dot com. I’ll try to research and discuss them in future postings.

by Darcy Pattison

Does point of view affect voice? Yes. The current trend is to encourage first person point of view for young adult novels, and sometimes, I think this adversely affects the voice. The default for many years for novels was third-person point of view; you only when to first person when the attitude/personality of the narrator was so distinctive that it added something to the story.

Point of View

First person point of view: The person telling the story tells it from his/her point of view, that is, the camera is in their head and you can’t experience anything they haven?t experienced. The pronouns are I, me, my, etc.

Third person point of view: The camera is now above the person’s head and the pronouns are s/he, their, etc. This point of view can focus into a deep third person point of view, where the writing is assumed to be the main character’s thoughts, feelings, actions, so that in effect, it functions similar to a first person point of view. Or, it can draw back and be a more remote telling in which you must say, “he thought.” This focus can vary throughout the story. Third person is the workhorse of novels and tells most stories well. First person, it seems to me, should be reserved for those times when the narrator is distinctive in some way–their voice stands out.

Point of View and Voice

First person voices can emphasize attitude, emotions, voice, dialects, naivety, over-confidence, etc. Unfortunately, many drafts I see in first person are bland. The author has made the “safe” choices in attitude and tone, failed to emphasize the depth of emotions, failed to color the narrative with the character’s perspective.

If you’re writing a novel in first person, try taking an important scene and see how far you can push it towards the narrator’s perspective. Do it as different and wild and different as possible. Then test it: have a trusted critiquer read both and see what they say. Probably the new version will stand out the best.

But even third person needs to worry about voice. In my middle-grade fantasy novel,The Wayfinder, I have two sisters vying for control of the Wolf Clan. When I re-read an early draft, I realized the sisters sounded the same, even though they were clearly on opposite sides of a philosophical and political debate. Yes, as sisters, there should be some similarities, but not as much as there was.

A revision strategy I used was to cut and paste each sister’s dialogue into a separate file and then compare the files. Too similar. I worked on each file, working to give them distinctive tics, distinctive vocabulary and sentence structures. Then, I worked the dialogue back into the text. I’m not sure I was totally successful, but at least the sisters didn?t sound like clones.

As you make choices about point of view, also consider what that means for voice. How will this choice affect the diction (the vocabulary choices) that you will allow into the book? How will it affect sentence structures, rhythm patterns, etc? I’d like some suggestions on good MG and YA books in first person that have distinctive voices. Any one read a new book that does this well?

by Darcy Pattison

I seem to be thinking a lot about critiques these days, probably because I’m getting critiques from a couple different sources.

Critique Groups

In critique groups, I find that writers/readers have different styles of critiquing.

Grammar Witches: This person always finds the punctuation, spelling, and grammar mistakes; I’m grateful for them, because fixing what they notice is easy.

Line Editors: This person rewrites lines by omitting words, moving things around, or just rewriting a sentence here or there. I appreciate the efforts of this person, but I don’t always do what they suggest. I CONSIDER everything they suggest. But I also take into consideration the voice of the piece and sometimes, what the Line Editor has done is put the sentence into their voice, destroying the rhythms of my voice. Sometimes, their suggestion to omit a word is right on. Or, they’ve noticed that I’ve repeated “whirl” ten times in this chapter and they are right that I should drag out a thesaurus. Overall, my attitude towards them is one of caution.

Big Picture Critiquers: The hardest critiquers to find are those who can look at the shape of the overall story and see where there are holes in the story logic, where the pacing is off, where the characters are flat, where dialogue is boring, etc. But, for me, these are the most valued critiquers. This is why I always want my critiquers to read the entire story at one time, even if it’s a rather long novel.

Sometimes, this type critiquer is the quietest in the bunch and you have to listen carefully. For example, once a group went over my WIP with enthusiasm, but as I was leaving, one person said casually as we were walking out the door, “Really, though, I don’t think you’ll get it published until you resolve the parent-child relationship.”

Whoa! That was a great Big Picture Comment, but it was made casually, almost apologetically. Fortunately, I realized the importance of that comment–the most valuable comment of the hour’s critique. So–listen for the small voices.

Under-Confident Critiquer: This person looks at a published writer and says to themselves, “Oh, gee, I can’t say anything to them because they are published and they know everything.” Sorry, but publication of one book doesn’t mean you write the next one perfectly. Even writers with 100 books out need honest feedback from honest readers. I avoid these critiquers.

Editorial Critiques

When you get that editorial revision letter–instead of the phone call you really wanted, be careful. Probably 90% or more of revision letters like this never go anywhere. Why? Because you do exactly what the editor asked for.

In my experience, if you do exactly what the editor asked for, you’ll still get rejected.

Instead, you need to go to the heart of what the editor said and go deeper than the surface of what the editor has suggested. You will do what the editor didn’t know they wanted. For example, in my first picturebook, The River Dragon, I had described the dragon’s voice as “the clink of copper coins.” And each time the dragon appeared, we heard him clinking along. The editor suggested a progression of sounds going from copper to silver to gold–with appropriate phrasing, of course.

I tried that and it didn’t work. Instead, I went toward baser metals: voice like the clink of copper coins, voice like the sound of a brass gong, voice ringing like a hammer on an iron anvil. This worked well because each step was a baser metal, a louder voice, and eventually, we wound up with the iron anvil, which harkened back to the main character’s job as a blacksmith.

I could have tried to force it into the more precious metals. The editor didn’t care about that, though. She was pointing out that a progression of sounds for the dragon’s voice had the potential to strengthen the story. I went to the heart of that comment and did a progression, and it pleased her.

That’s a very simple example of going to the heart of an editor’s comments, but it demonstrates how important it is to understand exactly what the editor is concerned about with their comments. Don’t hesitate to call and clarify the issues. If the editor took the time to write that letter, they won’t mind a call.

by Darcy Pattison

Early drafts of novels often open with an exciting situation only to devolve into a long explanation of back story. Donald Maass, in his Writing the Breakout Novel and the Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook, says to put back story somewhere after page 100.

Yes, everyone wants to argue with this, saying that the back story is necessary for the reader to understand what is happening.

Let’s distinguish between some terms. A story takes up a certain time and space.

The prehistory of the story would explain the general background of the time and place. For example, where does Mark Twain?s story, Huckleberry Finn fit into the history of the United States.

A personal biography explains where this story fits into the context of a character?s life and generally adds dimensions to the character.

Back story plants and sows seeds of conflict, that is, it is the background for the particular conflict this story tells about.

Generally, as an author, you need to know all three types of histories; but these histories find their way into stories in different ways. An historical fiction novel would emphasize the prehistory, or the general history of the time and place. A character story would emphasize the character?s personal biography. But all stories need some type of back story, something that explains the origins of the conflict, why these characters are struggling with this situation.

Where to Put Back Story

1. Avoid the First Chapter. I once had an editor compliment my novel because it avoided the pitfall of putting back story in the first chapter. First chapters–story openings–work best when there is a scene with an immediate conflict and the main character is working toward solving that problem. It’s often not the main problem that the character will face, so Maass calls this a “bridging conflict,” an immediate problem that will lead into the main conflict. In other words, your main character must want something in the first chapter, s/he must have an immediate goal. Put them into motion and let the reader get to know them.

2. Can I Put the Back Story in the Second Chapter? Maybe. It?s a better choice than the first chapter. But do you really need it? By now, you probably need bits of the prehistory of the situation: for fantasy, the tendency is to include lots of prehistory by this point of the story.

But think about Tolkein’s Lord of the Rings series. The hobbits don;t really understand the ring and its significance until they get to Elrond’s House, which is near the end of the first book.

Readers will stay with you if you keep immediate conflicts going; they will wait to understand everything. Personal biographies are often brought into the second chapter. This seems more natural, because from the character’s point-of-view, everything is filtered through their past experiences. The character might reminisce about a childhood incident to explain why they ask a certain question. In general, though, keep these short and relevant to the current thought, emotion or action.

3. Put Back Story Where it will Explain or Enhance. The general answer for where to put back story is to put it as late as possible, but put it where it will have the most impact. A flashback or an explanation of back story needs to come where it will explain a thought, emotion or action and result in the most impact on the reader. Will the back story increase the scene’s tension, will it pump up the emotional stakes, will it make events matter more, will it deepen the reader?s emotional reactions?

If you find yourself putting a long explanation of prehistory, personal biography or back story in the first chapter–STOP IT! That’s the wrong place. (OK, someone is going to tell me about a book where this worked well–there are always exceptions!)

Move the prehistory, personal biography or back story to later in the story, as late into the story as possible for it to still impact the story. Preferably after page 100. Make it relate to and deepen the current scene. You’ll have a stronger story as a result.