novel finished . . . now the hard part starts

So, I haven't posted anything since Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Am I the worst blogger ever? I have been working hard, though. I finished the novel and have been steadily working on freelance writing and editing gigs, which is great because I have a thing about keeping the power on and the pantry stocked.

Finishing the novel was a glorious feeling. I felt high for days--that great writing euphoria you get when you're in the zone and the words come together seemingly on their own. John Gardner writes about this mental state when the consciousness opens up and you lose yourself in the piece, when you're no longer in the reader's way, in On Becoming a Novelist:

"In some apparently inexplicable way the mind opens up; one steps out of the world. One knows one was away because of the words one finds on the page when one comes back, a scene or a few lines more vivid and curious than anything one is capable of writing--though there they stand."

I was blessed to go there (or to leave here) a few times while writing Gems in the Rough. Those few moments alone were reason enough for writing the novel.

Now the hard part starts . . . revisions! My reading tonight is from Gardner again, this time from The Art of Fiction. Before I begin a full revision cycle (even though I've been revising and editing all along), I plan to read the second half of The Art of Fiction, "Notes on the Fictional Process," as well as his chapter "Publication and Survival" from On Becoming a Novelist, keeping in mind that Gardner had a rough go of it himself when it came to getting published. I have faith, though, and hope. And, a plus in my favor, I love the editing process. Let's see if I still love it after numerous passes through the novel.

John Gardner on what writers do

"What the writers I care most about do is take fiction as the single most important thing in life after life itself -- life itself being both their raw material and the object of their celebration. They do it not for ego but simply to make something singularly beautiful. Fiction is their religion and comfort: when they are depressed, they go not to church or psychoanalysis but to Salinger or Joyce, early Malamud, parts of Faulker, Tolstoy, or the Bible as a book. They write, themselves, to make things equally worthy of trust -- not stories of creeps and cynics but stories of people capable of a measure of heroism, capable of strong and honest feeling at least some of time, capable of love and sacrifice -- capable of all this, and available as models for imitation. Everything true writers do, I think, from laborious plotting on butcher paper or three-by-five cards to laborious revision, draft after draft, they do to create characters -- the center and heart of all true fiction -- characters who will serve till Messiah comes, characters whose powerful existence in our minds makes a real-life messiah unnecessary. Imperfect, even childish human beings, writers raise themselves up by the techniques of fiction to something much better than even the best of writers are in everyday life: ordinary mortals transmutted for the moment into apostles." - John Gardner, from On Writers and Writing

musings on point of view

In The Art of Fiction, John Gardner writes, "In contemporary writing one may do anything one pleases with point of view, as long as it works." Earlier in the text, Gardner comments on Henry James' claims of the use of first-person point of view in long works of fiction as "barbaric."

In his own book entitled The Art of Fiction, a collection of previously published articles on the craft, novelist David Lodge writes of the subject, "The choice of the point(s)of view from which the story is told is arguably the most important single decision that the novelist has to make, for it fundamentally affects the way readers will respond, emotionally and morally, to the fictional characters and their actions."

I haven't written my own The Art of Fiction but here are some of my musings on point of view:

1. Though I don't find first-person point of view "barbaric," I do find it overused in contemporary fiction, stylistically overindulgent, and a set-up for lazy writing. First-person, in particular, lends itself to "telling" versus "showing" and, firmly rooted in the character's mind, allows for often tedious (and worse, boring) over-narration.

2. Beginning writers, and many established writers, fail to consider carefully the question of point of view. Who is in the best position to tell this story, is a fundamental question that must be considered in the planning stages, not a question to be answered by accepted norms/characteristics of a particular genre or dictated by trends in the market. For me, telling a story is about revealing a truth. Through whose eyes should we see this story? Who can best reveal that truth?

3. The third-person objective point of view is underrated and underutilized. Certainly better suited for shorter works of fiction, the third-person objective vision allows for gaps, or room, in the narration for interpretation of character's thoughts and feelings. As this method of point of view relies only on description, action, and dialogue -- what characters do and say -- the reader feels more freedom to interrupt the text. It is "showing" in its most direct sense. It is the camera's lens.

4. As a young reader in my twenties and early thirties, I used to enjoy omniscient narrators who commented on, even judged, the actions of characters in the story. I even wrote a few, somewhat successful, short stories in that fashion. Now it makes me cringe. It feels like moralizing. In my forties, I no longer want a "God" narrator commenting and judging characters, pointing out their weaknesses and failings. Maybe as we grow older, there is a certain tendency toward understanding and compassion. Maybe it's because I've moved away from organized religion and the "voice of God" narration style feels damning and condemning.

5. Gimmicks with point of view annoy me -- excepts when they work. I've written before about the use of second person by Jay McInerney in Bright Lights, Big City and Joshua Ferris's use of first-person plural in Then We Came to the End. I consider them both gimmicks, in a way, but both work and add levels of meaning. By gimmicks I mean such POV mistakes as multiple first-person points of view for no apparent reason (especially retelling the same event over and over, as in the movie Vantage Point) and "mind of the killer" first-person points of view placed within the framework of a larger first-person or third-person limited story (where the only reason for plunging into the "killer's mind" is to shock and scare). Typing this I realize both of these "gimmicks" involve the use of first-person. Another good reason not to use first-person unless the story cannot be told from any other point of view.

I'll end with another quote by David Lodge: "One of the commonest signs of a lazy or inexperienced writer of fiction is inconsistency in handling point of view." This is our craft, my fellow writers. This is our art. Let's not be lazy. Let us consider what a careful examination of point of view can do for our fiction.

significant fiction versus trivial pursuits

"If the young writer is to achieve intellectual and emotional significance in his fiction, he must have the common sense to tell foolish ideas from interesting ones and important emotions from trivial ones. These abilities can be guided a little, for instance by the teacher's pointing out, as I've done above, that stories beginning in character and conflict are bound to be more interesting than stories that do not -- a principle applicable even to thrillers, sodbusters, and horror stories. And the writer's sense of what questions are really interesting and what ones aren't worth bothering with may be heightened a little by wide reading, by conversation with intelligent people, and by the conscious attempt to, as James said, 'be someone on whom nothing is lost.'"

There's a weighty idea, "intellectual and emotional significance." I can imagine the young writer confusing significant fiction with "serious" or "literary" or, more misleading, "classic." This notion of "foolish ideas," of which I'll grant contemporary fiction is full of, can be misleading. Gardner warns the young writer not to be "carried away by fads." Sound advice by any means. But I would caution the young writer not to be handcuffed by the precepts of an traditional style or accepted subject matter. What may seem faddish, or even foolish, at first glance may have significance (something to say) lurking beneath, waiting for the hands of the daring, and perhaps novice, writer to pull from it elements that elevate it to the level of "significant fiction." Three novelist come to mind.

In the 90's Douglas Coupland depicted the nature and struggles of young adults in such groundbreaking novels as Generation X and Microserfs. I assigned Microserfs as a novel study for my sophomore high school students in 1997, two years after its release. My creative writing class studied excerpts from Generation X. I wanted my students to know that good writing could be reflective of the age in which they lived and, at once, entertaining, hip, and "intellectual and emotional significant."

The second writer is the new phenom Joshua Ferris, whose 2007 publication Then We Came To The End takes a funny and poignant look at modern office life and the effects of group think. Written in first person plural, while bordering on gimmicky, the point of view feels perfect for this tale of the American workplace.

Likewise does Jay McInerney's use of second person in Bright Lights, Big City , which captures perfectly the protagonist's need to psychologically distance himself from his own destructive behaviors. Not only is McInerney's daring use of second person fresh and reflective of the times, he takes what, by all accounts, is the height of trivial and self-indulgent, club-life in the 1980's, and creates a modern backdrop for a significant novel about human frailty, weakness, and the universal desire to be loved and nurtured.

It is precisely these risks Coupland, Ferris, and McInnery take (stylistic risks the average workshop and some writing programs would likely frown upon) that elevates their work and creates the intellectual and emotional punch they deliver. No, Gardner isn't wrong about trivial pursuits, but there is something, I believe, residing deeper in the seemingly trivial pursuits of society. It will take that daring, keen-sighted writer to reveal it to us.


By the way: For an interesting look at Jay McInerney, read Victoria Lautman's Writers on the Record.

when you're strange . . .

John Gardner, On Becoming a Novelist, "The Writer's Nature":

"As for the quality of strangeness, it is hard to know what can be said. There can be no great art, according to the poet Coleridge, without a certain strangeness. Most readers will recognize at once that he's right. There come moments in every great novel when we are startled by some development that is at once perfectly fitting and completely unexpected -- for instance, the late, surprising entrance of Svidrigailov in Crime and Punishment, Mr. Rochester's disguise in Jane Eyre, the rooftop scene in Nicholas Nickleby, Tommy's stumbling upon the funeral in Seize the Day, the recognition moment in Emma, or those moments we experience in many novels when the ordinary and the extraordinary briefly interpenetrate, or things common suddenly show, if only for an instant, a different face. One has to be just a little crazy to write a great novel. One must be capable of allowing the darkest, most ancient and shrewd pats of one's being to take over the work from time to time. Or be capable of cracking the door now and then to the deep craziness of life itself -- as when in Anna Karenina Levin proposes to Kitty in the same weird way Tolstoy himself proposed to his wife. Strangeness is the one quality in fiction that cannot be faked."

A friend once told me I was "white socks with a black suit." At first, I was angry. Since then, I've come to appreciate and embrace his description of me. I think it fits me to a "T." And I'm okay with that.

I agree with Gardner that the best writers are a bit strange, which is to say they see the world, engage with the world in an atypical way. Generally, they are not group-joiners and don't necessarily play well with others. Too much strangeness, however, doesn't lend itself to good writing. Batshit crazy only produces work that rambles, rants, and reeks of ego.

So, be strange. Be white socks with a black suit. "When you're strange, people come out of the rain." Say "hi." Introduce yourself. Sit and talk a spell. It's okay if no one else can see them. If they make good characters, write their stories.

character first, character foremost

"Character is the very life of fiction. Setting exists so that the character has someplace to stand, something that can help define him, something he can pick up and throw, if necessary, or eat, or give his girlfriend. Plot exists so the character can discover for himself (and in the process reveal to the reader) what he, the character, is really like: plot forces the character to choice and action, tranforms him from a static construct to a life like human being making choices and paying for them or reaping the rewards. And theme exists only to make the character stand up and be somebody: theme is elevated critical language for what the character's main problem is." John Gardner, On Becoming a Novelist

I think we are sucked in by writing workshops and the publishing industry to focus on plot first, the interesting premise, the unusual situation. Not that character is ignored, but that we hear a lot of talk like "consider what if ...", meaning what if this happened to someone (read plot) or "hook your reader with an exciting initiating event", meaning again soemthing unusual or exciting happened to someone (again plot). Much of what passes for good movies and books, to me, these days is based on gimmicky premises, "twist" endings, and plot-driven, souless escapades. In fact, the last two movies I've seen that come to mind where character is treated with the importance it deserves are Revolutionary Road and Brothers.

I don't know if this lack of concern for character is a result of having to fill the market commercially, a misdirection on the part of writers workshops, teachers, and editors, or an indication of the public's general bad taste. What we remember, when the movie is over or the last page read, especially months and years later, is that character we couldn't shake, those people we felt we knew, that we loved or hated or both. Where are the great character-driven stories these days?

Setting in Fiction - and other stuff I got wrong the first time

So I haven't posted in over a month. I've been practicing major writing avoidance behavior. We'll lovely refer to these patterns of behavior collectively as WAB. WAB, as most writers have experienced at one time or another, involves such behavior as talking with others about writing but not writing, reading about writing but not writing, buying books about writing but not writing, writing in one's head but not writing on paper or screen, dreaming about writing but not ... You get the picture.

Much has happened. My WAB started a few days after my last post. The initial joy I felt after my editor's warm reception of my novel's first few pages was quickly followed by pain and heartbreak. Not about the novel concept. Well, not entirely. But, definitely about the novel's setting. I stubbornly tried to convince her and myself I could "layer in" details about the setting, or I could visit northern Idaho (I live along the coast of northeast Florida)and spend a week or so getting the "feel" of the place. Okay, okay, I know. It was a cheap trick. Pictures and websites on the Internet couldn't give me the experience I needed to write convincingly about the setting. The manuscript read like a weak echo of an echo of a sound. There was no there there.

Finally, I took her advice. First - because she's brilliant and I trust her. And, second - because that's what I'm paying her for. She was right. I needed to change the setting. But, to where? After much hand wringing and more than a few vodka and cranberries, I settled on Fernandina Beach, Florida on Amelia Island (renamed Leon Beach and Annabel Island in the novel. Right up the road from Jacksonville, Amelia Island is scenic and folksy, full of southern charm and some other aspects of southern history and culture I find offensive and distasteful. Most important, the setting is secluded, has the small-town feel I wanted, and lends itself to stories of both romance and the paranormal, which are all crucial to the story.

Of course, this means all but a handful of the pages I've written already are useless. To be fair, they're not useless. Writing the first draft did help me understand I need to keep the major themes of the work focused and few in number. I was taking on too much. But, I had over 32,000 words. I was getting so close to mid-point in the plot I could taste it. And, it tasted good.

Okay, breathe. If I keep thinking about it, I'll spiral into WAB again. On a good note, I did rewrite chapter one in the new setting and my editor loved the setting change and the pages. So, yeah! Since then, I've been taking on freelance writing and editing jobs to bring in some cash - because being a broke, unpublished novelist is sad and depressing. I haven't shopped seriously for clothes in months.

So, that's been my writing life this past month or so. Starting over is such fun. I plan on posting a brief description of the novel and a few opening pages soon. I'd love to get feedback. Just, please, for the love of all that is good and beautiful, don't tell me to change the setting.

These learned folks had the following to say about setting:

“The writer operates at a peculiar crossroads where time and place and eternity somehow meet. His problem is to find that location.” Flannery O’Connor

“Every human event happens somewhere, and the reader wants to know what that somewhere was like.” William Zinsser

“He [the writer] must create, stroke by stroke, powerfully convincing characters and settings.” John Gardner

“The size of the setting also defines the fictional dimension.” William Sloane

Advice for the Beginning Writer

After my blog yesterday on all the "helpful" (really confusing) advice for beginning writers available in the multitude of writing magazines and manuals, I ran across this bit of sage advice from John Gardner in his classic The Art of Fiction:

What the beginning writer needs, discouraging as it may be to hear, is not a set of rules but mastery -- among other things, mastery of the art of breaking so-called rules.

How does one achieve mastery? According to John Gardner one must both read widely and write not only "carefully but continually."

Here's a thought: In Malcolm Gladwell's book Outliers, reporting findings on why some people succeed more than others, Gladwell asserts that mastery in a craft is likely attained by reaching a number measurement. When do we reach mastery? Gladwell claims it comes with 10,000 hours of practice.

Okay, I've taken liberty with his research and simplified what Gladwell reports, but it's reassuring to know that "mastery" is not some unattainable, unquantifiable, nebulous thing. We're not talking "perfection," we're talking "mastery." I can handle that notion. I can practice writing a certain number of hours, with Gardner's carefulness and consideration, "assessing and reassessing" what I write. That's doable.

So, today I got some good advice I can grasp onto and use. Just thought I'd pass it along. Let me know your advice for the beginning writer.