Post by Ronnie on Mar 9, 2011 9:43:05 GMT -5
By same "deactivated" deviant as the character form and the other dialogue guide. (Note: I'm not say her "ex"-username for the sake of privacy..deactivating one's account usually means /something/)
Talk Less, Say More: A Guide on Saying What you Mean, and Knowing When to Shut Up
Have you ever started reading a story or poem, only to skim through all the blathering to the “good part”? Or if you’re me, you stop reading it entirely. I am an example of the average person now-a-days. I don’t have time to waste on authors who find it necessary to tell me every little detail, three adjectives per noun, down to their grandmother’s dog’s flea’s flashback! (Though that could be pretty funny.) But now I’m the one blathering.
The thing about telling a story, is that you have to tell it. (Or show it, but that’s another guide.) Your story is a stew: the plot is the meat and vegetables, the characters are the broth, and your prose is the seasoning. You don’t want to make it too spicy or salty. You want it to be an enjoyable experience for your reader.
When it comes right down to it, there is a line you cross when the description stops being for the good of reader, and starts being for you. If you’re writing just for yourself, season at will. Personally, I like curry so spicy it makes normal people cry, but I wouldn’t cook that for a crowd.
The first thing you have to look at to determine if the words you’re using are necessary is if they describe something the reader would assume anyway. Example:
”I laid my head on the fluffy, white pillow.”
Pillows tend to be fluffy and or soft. In situations like this or similar ones, you only need to give details that differ from the norm. I don’t need to know if the pillow is rectangular, but I would need to know if, say, it was made of stone or banana-shaped or eight feet long.
Your reader will assume things. Don’t insult their intelligence, because then they won’t think highly of you either if you do.
This brings up possibly the worst poem I have ever read. It was submitted to my high school literary magazine, and I was, unfortunately, quality control. It was about a cell phone, and described it in excruciatingly generic detail. Ladies and gentlemen, I wanted to defenestrate this poem. The reason was because the poet assumed that I had never seen a cell phone quite like theirs before. For goodness sakes, there aren’t that many models! But, it could have been interesting if it had been about one of those brick-size phones from the eighties. Remember, deviation from the norm is when description is most necessary.
An example of landscape description, an odd, symbolic landscape that is important to the novel:
"This is a valley of ashes--a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and, finally, with a transcendent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air. Occasionally a line of gray cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak, and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-gray men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud, which screens their obscure operations from your sight."
- F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
Another thing you need to look out for is pertinence of information. A few well placed details is enough. I don’t need to know the exact height of everyone’s shoes or the precise length of every character’s hair. The beauty of literature is that everyone interprets things differently. Let them!
Here we have something more succinct:
"The sides of the bridge were high and the body of the car, once on, was out of sight. But I saw the heads of the driver, the man on the seat with him, and the two men on the rear seat. They all wore German helmets."
- Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms
You get the picture, right?
This doesn’t mean that you don’t need concrete description. For the appearance of characters, sometimes one exact detail of their outward appearance is all you need at their first introduction. Hemmingway’s Robert Cohn has a flattened nose from years of boxing, and he looked the better for it. That’s one detail, but you already know pages about him. For solid characterization and word economy, I definitely suggest reading Hemmingway.
Something to be wary of in terms of appearance, however, is to avoid cliches and false characterization. What is that, you ask? False characterization is giving a character a silly hat or strange hair and calling them unique. It's a pitfall, and we've all done it at one time or another. What you need to use is something that will actually differentiate them from everyone you've ever met with brown hair and blue eyes.
World building also falls into this category. I’m not singling out science fiction or fantasy. This goes for everyone.
You can show so much without having to ramble on about it. A photograph can show a family. Body language shows people’s attitudes towards each other with subtlety. Props can be symbolic, or can paint a picture of what happened before your scene started. For example, a tricycle in a front yard would denote the inhabitants had a young child. Tarps on roofs, fallen limbs, and a thick humidity that clings to the air show the passage of a hurricane. The smell of lilac perfume and discarded stilettos on the bathroom tile might hearken of a lady (or even a man in drag).
These descriptions use multiple senses to move the plot forward in a succinct way. Everything you have must move the plot forward. That doesn’t mean I want your story or poem to read like: “Doris ran. She sat. She fell in love.” Plot is distinct from action in that it is together the events in a narrative through character development, action, and meaning. In the end, everything is tied together, so if by that time the grandmother’s dog’s flea’s flashback is important, then by all means use it. The trick is to make it feel important while you’re telling it. The best way I could tell you to do that is to use poignant description and immediacy of action.
Using small details to paint a larger picture:
"...our long journey had only defiled with a sinuous trail of slime the lovely, trustful, dreamy, enormous country that by then, in retrospect, was no more to us than a collection of dog-eared maps, ruined tour books, old tires, and her sobs in the night — every night, every night — the moment I feigned sleep."
Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita
Poignant description uses important details rather than describing a whole picture. The minds of the readers will fill in the gaps if you can provide the right details.
What it comes right down to is practice. Practice writing well, writing succinctly and poignantly. Select your details and senses wisely. Give your work to others to read. Read your work over from a different perspective. If you were your reader, would this make sense?
Talk Less, Say More: A Guide on Saying What you Mean, and Knowing When to Shut Up
Have you ever started reading a story or poem, only to skim through all the blathering to the “good part”? Or if you’re me, you stop reading it entirely. I am an example of the average person now-a-days. I don’t have time to waste on authors who find it necessary to tell me every little detail, three adjectives per noun, down to their grandmother’s dog’s flea’s flashback! (Though that could be pretty funny.) But now I’m the one blathering.
The thing about telling a story, is that you have to tell it. (Or show it, but that’s another guide.) Your story is a stew: the plot is the meat and vegetables, the characters are the broth, and your prose is the seasoning. You don’t want to make it too spicy or salty. You want it to be an enjoyable experience for your reader.
When it comes right down to it, there is a line you cross when the description stops being for the good of reader, and starts being for you. If you’re writing just for yourself, season at will. Personally, I like curry so spicy it makes normal people cry, but I wouldn’t cook that for a crowd.
The first thing you have to look at to determine if the words you’re using are necessary is if they describe something the reader would assume anyway. Example:
”I laid my head on the fluffy, white pillow.”
Pillows tend to be fluffy and or soft. In situations like this or similar ones, you only need to give details that differ from the norm. I don’t need to know if the pillow is rectangular, but I would need to know if, say, it was made of stone or banana-shaped or eight feet long.
Your reader will assume things. Don’t insult their intelligence, because then they won’t think highly of you either if you do.
This brings up possibly the worst poem I have ever read. It was submitted to my high school literary magazine, and I was, unfortunately, quality control. It was about a cell phone, and described it in excruciatingly generic detail. Ladies and gentlemen, I wanted to defenestrate this poem. The reason was because the poet assumed that I had never seen a cell phone quite like theirs before. For goodness sakes, there aren’t that many models! But, it could have been interesting if it had been about one of those brick-size phones from the eighties. Remember, deviation from the norm is when description is most necessary.
An example of landscape description, an odd, symbolic landscape that is important to the novel:
"This is a valley of ashes--a fantastic farm where ashes grow like wheat into ridges and hills and grotesque gardens; where ashes take the forms of houses and chimneys and rising smoke and, finally, with a transcendent effort, of men who move dimly and already crumbling through the powdery air. Occasionally a line of gray cars crawls along an invisible track, gives out a ghastly creak, and comes to rest, and immediately the ash-gray men swarm up with leaden spades and stir up an impenetrable cloud, which screens their obscure operations from your sight."
- F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
Another thing you need to look out for is pertinence of information. A few well placed details is enough. I don’t need to know the exact height of everyone’s shoes or the precise length of every character’s hair. The beauty of literature is that everyone interprets things differently. Let them!
Here we have something more succinct:
"The sides of the bridge were high and the body of the car, once on, was out of sight. But I saw the heads of the driver, the man on the seat with him, and the two men on the rear seat. They all wore German helmets."
- Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms
You get the picture, right?
This doesn’t mean that you don’t need concrete description. For the appearance of characters, sometimes one exact detail of their outward appearance is all you need at their first introduction. Hemmingway’s Robert Cohn has a flattened nose from years of boxing, and he looked the better for it. That’s one detail, but you already know pages about him. For solid characterization and word economy, I definitely suggest reading Hemmingway.
Something to be wary of in terms of appearance, however, is to avoid cliches and false characterization. What is that, you ask? False characterization is giving a character a silly hat or strange hair and calling them unique. It's a pitfall, and we've all done it at one time or another. What you need to use is something that will actually differentiate them from everyone you've ever met with brown hair and blue eyes.
World building also falls into this category. I’m not singling out science fiction or fantasy. This goes for everyone.
You can show so much without having to ramble on about it. A photograph can show a family. Body language shows people’s attitudes towards each other with subtlety. Props can be symbolic, or can paint a picture of what happened before your scene started. For example, a tricycle in a front yard would denote the inhabitants had a young child. Tarps on roofs, fallen limbs, and a thick humidity that clings to the air show the passage of a hurricane. The smell of lilac perfume and discarded stilettos on the bathroom tile might hearken of a lady (or even a man in drag).
These descriptions use multiple senses to move the plot forward in a succinct way. Everything you have must move the plot forward. That doesn’t mean I want your story or poem to read like: “Doris ran. She sat. She fell in love.” Plot is distinct from action in that it is together the events in a narrative through character development, action, and meaning. In the end, everything is tied together, so if by that time the grandmother’s dog’s flea’s flashback is important, then by all means use it. The trick is to make it feel important while you’re telling it. The best way I could tell you to do that is to use poignant description and immediacy of action.
Using small details to paint a larger picture:
"...our long journey had only defiled with a sinuous trail of slime the lovely, trustful, dreamy, enormous country that by then, in retrospect, was no more to us than a collection of dog-eared maps, ruined tour books, old tires, and her sobs in the night — every night, every night — the moment I feigned sleep."
Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita
Poignant description uses important details rather than describing a whole picture. The minds of the readers will fill in the gaps if you can provide the right details.
What it comes right down to is practice. Practice writing well, writing succinctly and poignantly. Select your details and senses wisely. Give your work to others to read. Read your work over from a different perspective. If you were your reader, would this make sense?