Writing

Dear Readers:

A little aside to begin with: when I think of my readers in the abstract, I find myself being inexplicably fond of them, and insanely curious about them: what are they like?  What are they thinking?  Which passages do they like?  Which characters?  Which scenes? and so on, and so on.

Then I imagine meeting one face-to-face, and I think: what if he or she is a pain in the butt?  What if they're ugly as sin?  What if I want to get away in a hurry?  This is the reason I absolutely don't want to meet anyone of my readers physically at all.  Above all, what if they really don't like the stories, and just read them because they're free?  If that is the case, just don't tell me.

Charles Dickens was asked about writing, I read somewhere, and was asked, specifically, what his advice to young writers just getting started was.  I read this some years ago, so I don't remember all the details, but he said, to the best of my recollection: detail, details, details!  Or it may have been: describe, describe, describe.

Bear in mind that Dickens wrote serialized stories for the newspapers, and for those of us who write in larger (or smaller) forms, the advice may not apply mutatis mutandis, as they say in the learned literature.  (Wait; I gotta look that up, to make sure that that's what I mean . . . Oops; no, that is not what I meant.  So I need to rewrite that sentence . . .)  Dickens's advice may not apply, without changes, to those who write larger-scale pieces.

The serialization of a novel, if that is the primary mode in which the novel is to be published, would be a peculiar thing in a few different ways.  For one thing, it would be very desirable to end every episode with a cliffhanger.  This need not be a requirement, but editors of modern-day journals would strongly suggest that style of writing.

For another thing, incorporating a lot of detail would be desirable, especially if it stretches the story out, in the case where the author would be paid by the episode, so the more episodes, the merrier.  For yet another thing, the author has the luxury of creating new, subsidiary characters in an episode, who need not survive the episode.  They could just wander off into the sunset, having performed the task for which they were created.

Which sort of Details?  Some readers would love to have the settings described.  Some would love a detailed description of the scenery.  Some others would prefer a detailed psychological profile of the characters; some would prefer the thought-processes of the characters as the action unfolds.  (I do this, and not much of anything else!)  Some would value a physical description of a character above all else.  (I do a little of this, even though I should keep it down.  The readers' own image of a character could really be as valid, if not more valid.)  I have read stories where the author describes the actual makes and design lines of the clothing and the shoes that the main character wears: Vuitton, or whatever.  Really?

I recently read (again!  How pathetic?) one of my earliest stories: Jane.  Oh my word (please forgive me) some passages had everything.  This story has no plot, really; it is about a girl who is a photographer, and falls in love with two of her models, to begin with, and then they both die.

More than a year later, she meets up with another model, and again they fall in love.  In a sense, this relationship saves her sanity.  Not that she was contemplating suicide, or anything; but just that it turns her life around 180 degrees, from sheer, plodding existence, to great happiness.

Then, unfortunately, my inspiration took a dive, and the ending of the story is pathetically sad.  I freely admit it, but I think the story is worth reading for the various segments of it, which are amazing.  You may not recognize the writing as mine; it is much more passionate and emotional.  I was younger.

In the Helen saga, too, a lot of the description was passionate and emotional, and detailed.  But in the process of condensing the story into the three books of (1) Helen at Westfield, (2) Helen and Sharon, and (3) Helen's Concerto, I, for some silly reason, took out most of this detail, which is what made the story so vital, when it was still unpublished.

In contrast, I think some of the detail in Concerto actually make the story weaker.  I can't fix the problem without making the story worse.

Oops, gotta go; I got a phone call.

Kay Hemlock Brown