When it comes to tension, suspense and surprise, it’s very hard to find your own weaknesses. Or, sometimes, to admit them.
Hi. I’m Jordan, and sometimes I write boring crap. And I leave it in. Even though people tell me it’s boring.
I’m trying to get better. (Hence this series.) But the more I work on specific areas in my writing, the more I realize I need help, and I may always need help. I think I’m probably not alone. Most of us allow at least a little indulgence as we’re drafting—words, lines, paragraphs or scenes that don’t necessarily move the story forward. And then sometimes we get a little too attached.
The fact is, when you’re still in love with your characters and your story, you’re more than willing to read the scenes that don’t really move the story along. One way to counteract this is to set the story aside. Yes, we’re always told to do this, and this is a big reason why. Set it aside for 6 months to a year and give yourself some distance from the work.
I am so not that patient. Once I’ve patched up the glaring holes and inconsistencies I know I’ve created, I’m willing to let my work go to one or two of my beta readers to make sure there aren’t any big structural/common sense/plot holes I missed. I’m okay with them taking a few months—but the minute I get their notes back, I’m ready to jump in again. That’s usually not long enough. (I also have a fairly good memory.)
Those beta readers and critique partners help in other ways, too. As far more impartial readers who want to help you make your story better (we hope), they have a vested interest in helping you eliminate all the weaknesses. They aren’t as attached to your story and your characters, so they are better at identifying places that don’t do much to move the story forward—the parts where their attention starts wandering. (Also helpful: the parts where they don’t know what you’re talking about.)
Tomorrow we’ll look at what you can do to find those weak tension points yourself—once you’re ready to let go of those things you love so much.
What do you think? How do you get help in identifying which parts drag?
Photo credit: Big Eagle Owl
I know exactly what you mean, Jordan. I have trouble letting go of some parts until it’s pointed out to me by my critique group. In my latest manuscript, there is a chapter that I love and some of my writing pals like it too. Others think I should change it, saying it doesn’t move the story on. It’s an early chapter and one that’s usually sent out to agents with a query, so it’s important I get it right.
It’s a scene that could be cut from the story, but shows the main character’s quirky personality and introduces another main character. The scene has the MC in her ordinary world, trying to solve the problem that has arrived. As it’s a junior fiction, I added a bit of comedy in the scene, but some readers think I should cut it, saying it slows down the story. When I put it to a vote, I got a fifty-fifty answer. What do I do now? I have already submitted it. Should I change it? Or wait until I hear back? I hate decisions like this. Maybe I should leave it for six months like you said, Jordan, but that’s to hard for me. I have a little OCD.
I can’t wait for your post tomorrow. I might get some insight to my problem
You can definitely change it—if you get an offer and come back with a stronger scene there, it’s not a bad thing.
Do stay tuned. I hope I can help!
Me? Weaknesses? Pshaw 😛
To find the boring bits, I send the ms to my mom. She’s not good at weak plots, characters, or dialogue, but she marks out the boring parts double time *and* scolds me. LOL!
I’m reading Stephen King’s On Writing right now and I like his advice. First, I like his little mantra. He says “Write with the door closed, rewrite with the door open.” Duh, you may say, but I still like it.
But he suggested picking up your rough draft six WEEKS after writing it. That way it’s sat long enough to make us feel like we’re reading the writing of a twin but still fresh enough that we can almost quote certain areas. And, of course, we’re much more willing to strike out “our little darlings” when they’ve been written by a mere twin.
But he says for the first draft, focus on story, the second draft. look at the holes. And I would add look at the tension. Where are the tangents? Strike them.
haha, look at me trying to be all smart…
My first drafts have a basic plan but then they pretty much move through scenes without me evaluating whether each one is playing a necessary role in the overall story. By the time I get to the revision stage the scenes all seem interconnected so slashing one has repercussions all along the line. Even when I scrutinize each scene asking questions to determine its purpose — does it advance the story or develop a character or setting, etc.? — it’s so easy to make excuses and find a reason to keep that fluffy scene! It drives me nuts. Having a qualified critique partner make unbiased suggestions is my only salvation. 🙂
@Andrew—Of course, this is for everyone else 😉 .
@Deb—Awesome! Most moms are too kind to help with anything. (My mom’s great, English degree, former English teacher, current academic coach. She’s told me a few things, but I know she holds back because she doesn’t want hurt my feelings.)
@M—I totally agree on writing with the door closed. I’m not sure critique groups are for me, since I don’t dare show my first chapter until the last chapter is written (in my last WIP, I changed who the bad guy was in the opening scene twice), and then I’m really impatient about getting the whole thing through. I don’t think six weeks (or really, nearly any amount of time at all) can always be enough to find plot holes—often holes are things that we just forgot to explain, but already know about, so we think they’re in there.
@Carol—Oh, I hear you. I keep wanting to move scenes around in my story, but then I run into problems like “Oh, but Character C can’t do Y here; she doesn’t know about X yet. That would make Y cruel here. It only makes sense where it is.” Readers really do help. I’ve found myself combining scenes a lot to keep in the info I needed and still move the story along.
Beta readers are great for this. I also notice that when I go back through and read my stuff, I’ll think, “Not this part again.” That’s a pretty good sign something needs to change.
I agree that it’s hard to let go of scenes that you love even if they don’t move the story forward, but I always think of Stephen King’s On Writing advice (M. Gray, I love his book — it’s great): Kill your darlings. King is actually talking about characters you like, but I think it works for scenes too.
And I always save those scenes in another document, because there might be something I can use in a different work.
I find those boring scenes by printing out the manuscript and going through it with a pen. As I read each page, I mark the sections that have conflict with “CONFLICT,” and similarly mark sections that show character or add story information. When I’m doing my revision, if there’s a page or scene that doesn’t have at least one of these markings on it, I know it had to go.
“Kill your darlings” is “much attributed,” but far predates Stephen King. Apparently the original comes from Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch (who died before King was born), in his lecture series at Cambridge (which he began in 1912), where he advised, “Murder your darlings.”