VOICE—An Introduction
Last week, I wrote about my experience attending the touring show of The Rat Pack—Live in Las Vegas at the performing arts center here in Nashville. Although I loved the show, I was disappointed in the fact that the Dean Martin impersonator, while doing wonderfully at the body language and spoken parts, sounded nothing like Dean when he sang. His voice was too bright, too nasal, his pronunciation/enunciation too sharp (not slurred enough) and flat (more eh and less ah)—and don’t get me started on his Italian lyrics! For people who are perhaps familiar with Dean’s songs but don’t really spend a lot of time listening to him, they might not have noticed. But for me, it was obvious from his first note . . . he could not imitate Dean’s unique voice.
Before the days of caller ID, it was necessary for us to identify ourselves when the person we were calling picked up the phone. Even since then, it is still the polite thing to do. When I worked at the newspaper, I had caller ID on my phone, but it showed only the phone number of the person calling if they were calling from outside the building. There were so many times when I had to ask someone to identify him- or herself after they launched into whatever it was that they needed to tell me because I did not recognize the voice. Yet with other people with whom I am more intimately acquainted, a simple “Hey, it’s me,” is all I need to hear to know who’s talking.
(And now for a final analogy.) I cannot stand it when film producers cast Americans in roles as Brits, or Brits in the roles of Americans, or Aussies in the roles of either (well, there are some exceptions—loved Russell Crowe as Jack Aubrey in Master and Commander so much that he had a cameo appearance in Ransome’s Honor as Captain John Mason). Anyway . . . whenever I see a movie that has cast Renee Zellweger as a Brit, it makes my skin crawl. She has one of the worst fake British accents I have ever heard in my life. I saw previews for a movie that Leonardo DiCaprio did where he was speaking with what sounded like a South African accent and it made me laugh. Though I ended up enjoying him in the role, when I first learned Donald Sutherland would be playing Mr. Bennet in the 2005 version of Pride and Prejudice I was appalled. As a viewer watching people I know don’t have the accent they’re putting on, it pulls me out of the story—mostly because the actor is so focused on getting the accent right that they lose some of their ability to perform the role well. There are so many wonderful actors from those countries with real accents that could have been cast instead.
When we first start writing, we are like that Dean Martin imitator or these actors trying to put on a fake accent. We start out by imitating what we’ve read, and how we wrote changed throughout the years based on how our reading preferences changed. When I started writing as a young teen, my reading material was primarily YA historical romances—in fact, the first writing I did was to write the “sequel” (or continuation of the story) of my favorite Sunfire Romance, Victoria. Though I could imitate the phrasing, the vocabulary, and style of the author (Willo Davis Roberts, one of the best YA authors I’ve ever read), what I wrote was flat, it lacked the sparkle of her prose.
Why? Because of her unique voice as a writer.
In the past ten years or so, sequels to or novels “in the style of” Jane Austen’s published works have proliferated on the market. I’m not ashamed to admit that I consider myself an Austenite. As mentioned and expounded upon so many times in this blog, I have gained both inspiration and valuable research information from studying her novels. Yet I have found very few of these modern imitations that I have been able to read (the main exception being Pamela Aidan’s Fitzwilliam Darcy, Gentleman trilogy that retells Pride & Prejudice from Darcy’s point of view). It’s not because these authors are trying to use Jane’s characters or settings. It’s because they’re trying to imitate her voice so much that their own writing suffers for it. One of the reasons I liked Pamela Aidan’s books is that, though her stories take the settings, characters, and situations so familiar from P&P, she wrote it as if it were her own story. It is Pamela Aidan’s voice that makes the FDG books come alive.
A writer’s voice, like the voice of our favorite singer, the familiar person on the other end of the phone, or an actor using his or her own accent, is something that is easy to recognize and nearly impossible to define. So let’s explore it. Let’s see if we can define what voice is and then figure out how to go about cultivating our own unique voices as writers.
WooHoo! Ransome’s Honor is Finished!
After yesterday’s exciting climactic scene, I could not wait to get home from church this afternoon and write the last chapter of Ransome’s Honor, which I just finished about 15 minutes ago. It was two years and several false-starts in the making, but I am so happy with how it turned out. I ended up slightly over my 90,000 word goal with a total of 122,610 (can you say EDIT?), but I love it. I am ready, though, to set it aside for a while to get back into a present-day setting with the sequel to my contemporary romance, Happy Endings, Inc.
In the midst of getting this manuscript wrapped up, I heard from my agent that a few more houses have passed on HEI, but he did share with me the comments from one of the editors which got me seriously thinking about what aspect of writing craft I wanted to blog about next. The editor wrote: “her voice is cute and fresh–it made for an entertaining read.”
Since there has been so much discussion of finding our writer’s voice on the ACFW loop, and since Vicki suggested it, as well, I believe this week we will start discussing VOICE and what it means to us as writers.
In the meantime, I’m doing the happy dance here in Nashville! Even though this is my fifth complete manuscript, I still get excited over writing “The End,” and I hope that feeling never goes away.
Torture Can Be So Fun!
I have just written what is probably my favorite scene ever! It’s one that I visualized and planned out nearly two years ago when I started writing Ransome’s Honor. It’s the scene that I have been writing toward since then as I’ve crafted this story into an actualized manuscript. It’s the second-to-last chapter of the novel and does what I want the almost-last chapter of every book I write—as well as every book I read—to do . . . seem to be bringing everything to a resolution, then rip the carpet out from underneath the characters.
Poor Julia and William have been through so much—social scandal, threats, manipulation, malicious gossip about them, and Julia’s being drugged and abducted by the antagonists. They have risen above all of these obstacles and have just resolved their personal differences. Then, when all seems most right with the world, when they are at the altar . . .
William could not keep his eyes from Julia’s, losing himself in their emerald depths.
“I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment, why ye may not be lawfully joined together in Matrimony, ye do now confess it.”
Julia’s eyes twinkled and she smiled for the first time. William returned it, his pleasure in her almost more than he could bear.
“If any man do allege and declare any impediment, why they may not be coupled together in Matrimony, by God’s Law, or the Laws of this Realm, let him now speak his objection.”
The sound of a door slamming caused a rustling gasp in the crowd, but William thought nothing of the latecomer’s arrival—until a man’s voice echoed throughout the silent sanctuary.
“I object.”
And that’s the end of the chapter. And as soon as I wrote it, I clapped my hands and did a happy dance, laughing and cheering with delight, pounding my palms on the desk—feeling like an NFL player who just made his first touchdown as a pro!
I love torturing my characters! (And my readers!)
Now, just one more chapter to write and Ransome’s Honor will be complete!
Destination, Determination, Deliberation
Anyone who is familiar with the Harry Potter novels will know that I lifted the title of this blog from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. These are the three guiding principles behind apperating–the way wizards in his world travel, disappearing from one place and appearing in another (like a Star Trek transporter without the technology, just magic).
Over the past week, these three words have been running through my head when it comes to my writing. My agent had me fill out a detailed questionnaire about myself and my writing life when I signed with him last month. Several of the questions focused on my writing habits: what time, where, when, and what hindered me from having more time to write. Being completely honest in answering them, I was a bit ashamed to admit that even since completing my Master of Arts in Writing Popular Fiction, I was still treating my writing like a hobby, not like a career. Now, I am under no delusions that, even should I be published soon, I will be able to quit working and be supported by what I earn in advances and royalties–not for many years to come, if ever. But, if I am ever to be (a) published and (b) taken seriously as an author, I realize that I must look upon my writing almost like a job. I hate to put it that way because I never want my writing to be a “job.” Writing is something I have always done because I love it–because it gives me a way to escape the real world of being single, having to work full time in jobs I haven’t always liked, stress from involvement in different organizations and the mantle of leadership either voluntary or thrust upon me, etc.
But even though writing is that for me, I must consider my destination. I did this seven years ago when I set my goals in 2000 looking ahead to the year I turned 35 (2006). One of those goals was to be in the process of seeking publication. I achieved that goal when I signed on with a literary agent. Now I must look further down the road. Where do I see myself as a writer in two to three years? Five years? Ten years? Do I want to be multipublished? YES. Okay, then I need to get a move on and start churning out a rough draft of a novel every six-to-nine months. My last two manuscripts have taken me three years (Happy Endings, Inc.–including a year-long revision process) and two years (Ransome’s Honor, which is still not quite finished) to complete. I know I can complete a rough draft faster than that–before Happy Endings, I completed a 75,000 word manuscript in four months–and that was during a semester when I was taking three undergraduate courses (9 hours). Over the past week and a half, I have written over 20,000 words on Ransome’s Honor, mostly by making myself sit down and write every night, and all day Saturday and most of the day Sunday this past weekend. This was how I turned out my first complete manuscript, What Matters Most (from 2001-2002–120,000 words) in nine months, never having written a story from start to finish before. The next manuscript was finished in seven months, and the third, as stated above, in four. What slowed me down with #4 (HEI) and #5 (RH) was first, working with critique partners for the first time and feeling I had to go back and revise and revise and revise every time I got feedback from them; and second, taking the critiques too much to heart while writing the first draft and becoming blocked and unable/unwilling to sit down and write because I knew I wasn’t going to be able to make it perfect–make it pleasing to my mentor and critique partners–the first time I wrote it. But now, I have decided to be “over it.” I’m going to write without worrying about if I use “as” too much or start too many sentences with “-ing” verbs. The only thing that will get me to my destination is to just write.
Which brings me to determination. It’s amazing how life still goes on when I don’t watch TV every night. This started back in the fall when I determined I was not going to continue watching ER on Thursday nights. I’d been hooked on it for years and years, and even when I grew frustrated with it, I still watched it every week. But this TV-year, I decided that since I had not been watching the reruns all summer, I could make the break and just not watch the new shows. And I haven’t missed it one bit. Additionally, it was quite easy for me to give up watching CSI, which I had watched before it. And guess what? Even though I do not turn on the TV on Thursday nights, the sun still rises on Friday mornings. And I have the whole evening to do things like write blogs for the Favorite PASTimes blog, visit a list of about 75-100 other writers’ blogs that I like to read to keep up with friends, do some research, or (and perhaps this should be first on the list) WRITE. Now, NBC has done me another favor–since Vincent d’Onofrio is so rarely on Law & Order: Criminal Intent, I don’t watch TV on Tuesday nights, either. And since giving up these shows, I have found myself more and more often skipping other shows that in the past I have been addicted to in favor of going in to the office and writing or participating in writing-related activities. Monday night, point in fact, I only watched about 15 minutes of CSI: Miami, one of the few shows I usually make the time to watch every week, before turning it off and going back to the computer. So, now I only have one night during the week when two shows come on that I really want to watch (and both come on at 9:00 on Wednesday evening).
Which brings me to deliberation, both in my writing and in my reading. I operate best with set schedules and deadlines. I can no longer waste so much of my time sitting in front of the idot-box, which is my biggest time killer. Since Wednesday evenings are curttailed due to church/choir practice, and since that is the night the two shows I’m recently addicted to come on, I will deliberately watch TV only on Wednesday evenings after I get home from church. This means that on Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday evenings, I will deliberately spend at least two hours (8-10 or 9-11) writing my novels, with the time before that available for other activities such as critiquing, blogging, visiting blogs, forums, ACFW volunteer work (coordinating the online courses), etc. If I can write a chapter each of three nights during the week at an average length of 3,500 words, I can have the first draft of a novel knocked out in eight and a half weeks! And that’s just writing three nights each week. Now, granted, the evenings recently when I’ve written a full chapter, I have written for more like four or five hours. But if I had not sat down and started writing and hit a zone, I would not have finished those chapters and gotten myself ever nearer the end of the manuscript. On Friday evenings (two shows I like both come on at 9:00 p.m.), I can spend the earlier part of the evening writing, then watch my shows (and if I get on a roll and miss them, oh well!). Then, once I complete Ransome’s Honor and am writing the sequel to Happy Endings, Inc. during the week, I can spend the weekends either working on revisions to RH or writing its sequel. In this way, I will always be able to have two projects in different stages of progress–and when HEI sells and I’m having to do rewrites, I will already have time blocked out in my week for working on my writing and can easily slide it right into the schedule.
I must also become deliberate about reading. I used to be a voracious reader. But once I started graduate school, reading became an academic activity–something that had to be done and must be picked apart and analyzed instead of just enjoyed. But to be the best writer I can be–as well as to know what is being published out in the market–I must become a deliberate reader. So, I will spend at least one hour before turning off the lights reading new books in my chosen genres of contemporary and historical inspirational romance. And just for accountability, I will post to my other blog what I’m reading along with my thoughts/comments.
Destination, determination, deliberation. And a happier, more productive me.
The Rat Pack Live in Nashville
Well, in a way. Last night, I had the thrill of attending The Rat Pack: Live at the Sands show at the Tennessee Performing Arts Center. This is a stage show that reenacts the legendary performances of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, and Sammy Davis Jr. at the height of their careers.
The show, which is also known as The Rat Pack—Live from Las Vegas debuted in England in 2000 and toured for three years. When it opened at London’s Theatre Royal Haymarket in 2002, it was to sold-out audiences and rave reviews. The show set box office records with the highest-ever advance sales in one day at London’s Strand Theatre. It is now touring in the United States and is in Nashville this week.
The actors portraying Frank and Sammy were perfect in their roles—from their voices to their body language, to their mannerisms and looks. The actor who portrayed Dean Martin—my favorite singer—looked a little like him (although from the distance we were sitting away from the stage, could have passed for Ed Sullivan, too)—is not the actor who originated the role. While he had the speech pattern and body language down pat, he didn’t sound anything like Dean when he sang. He was a good singer, but just sounded nothing like Dean.
Having dead guys as my favorite singers, it’s hard to get to go see the music I love performed live by the performers I want to hear. So seeing this show gave me what might be a once-in-a-lifetime chance to experience in a small way what it might have been like to see these legendary singers in their prime.
What made the evening even more fun is that I went with a new friend, Ruth. I met Ruth through the internet—saw where she had commented on someone’s blog, visited her myspace site and discovered not only does she live in the Nashville area, but that we have so many things in common—from our favorite movies, to the actors we adore, to the movies we obsess over. Over dinner, we both discovered in the other person someone we could talk about these favorites and passions that no one else in our lives has ever really understood—including this music and these singers. So sealing a friendship in addition to seeing the show made it a night to remember.
Why Writers Need to Be Good at Math
Train X leaves the station at 6 a.m. traveling 50 mph heading south. Train Y leaves the station at 6:30 a.m. traveling 60 mph heading north. How far apart are they at 7 a.m.? At 9 a.m.?
Remember those old word problems? I used to LOVE those when I was in school (just about the only part of math I liked were the logic/word problems). This weekend, I experienced a very strong reminder of why as writers, we need to hone all of our academic skills, including geography and especially math.
You see, I ended up writing myself into what became an algebraic word problem this weekend. I have three sets of travelers. The first (“A”), traveling in a carriage leaves Portsmouth at 2:00 a.m. traveling 4 mph. The second (“B”), on horseback, leaves at 4:00 a.m. traveling 7 mph. The third (“C”), traveling on horseback, leaves at 4:30 a.m. traveling 8 mph (better horses than “B”). When “B” catches up to “A” he leaves his horse for the comfort of the carriage. So “C” must still catch up with them, but now the task is easier because carriage “AB” is now traveling half “C’s” speed.
I found online an high-def, super-detailed historic map of Hampshire, England–complete with mileages written in along the major road that my characters would be traveling. I then wrote out the above information as a word problem worthy of the SAT or ACT. I ended up plugging all of the variables and formulas into an Excel spreadsheet and figued out how many miles it would take (allowing for a few stops along the way to water the horses or question innkeepers)–and applying that distance to the map discovered that it was the approximate distance between Portsmouth and Winchester–about 22-24 miles! And what a merry chase it was, too!
But, tonight I’m taking a break from my marathon of trying to get Ransome’s Honor finished (I’ve written about 20,000 words in the last 5-6 days). A friend and I are going to see the Rat Pack at the Tennessee Performing Arts Center. Don’t believe me? Come back tomorrow and I’ll explain!
Showing vs. Telling–When to TELL
For this last Showing vs. Telling post, I’m going to show you why telling is sometimes better than showing:
Showing
- She ran to the car and fit her key into the keyhole in the door of the dark green Pontiac G6 coupe. The lock clicked open and she lifted the door handle to yank the door open. She turned and slid her right leg in the car first, her rear-end sliding across the leather seat with ease, drew her left foot in, and slammed the door–in which was the panel holding the controls for the power windows, door locks, mirrors, and driver’s seat adjustments. She poked the key into the ignition, turned it to the right, and engaged the engine. With her foot on the brake—because the car required the brake be engaged to be able to put it into gear—she pressed the button on the gear shifter with her right thumb and jerked the stick down to the R-position. Without looking behind her, she took her foot off the brake and positioned it on the accelerator and pressed down hard. The car backed out of the space faster than was safe. Once out of the space, she put her foot on the brake again and shifted the car into drive. She stomped her foot on the accelerator and the car lurched forward, tires making a squealing sound against the pavement.
(Did you make it reading this far? If so, good on ya!)
Telling
- She jumped in the car and peeled out of the parking lot.
The first example is an exaggeration, of course, but I think you get my point. In some instances, we need to give the reader the benefit of the doubt that they understand what it means when we write that the character got in the car and peeled out of the parking lot. Sometimes, it’s okay to tell when it’s the difference between a twelve-word sentence that keeps the action moving and an entire paragraph that brings the action to a screeching halt.
Showing vs. Telling—Puppets, Cartoon Characters, or Live Action?
All right—onto the last post (maybe) in this series: active writing and character movement.
In nearly every style book, whether academic or publication writing, we are admonished to “prefer active verbs”:
From The Bedford Handbook(academic): 14a: Prefer active verbs. Active verbs express meaning more emphatically and vigorously than their weaker counterparts—forms of the verb be (be, am, is, are, was, were, being, been) lack vigor because they convey no action. Verbs in the passive voice lack strength because their subjects receive the action instead of doing it.
From The Chicago Manual of Style: 5.112: Active and passive voice. Voice shows whether the subject acts (active voice) or is acted upon(passive voice)—that is, whether the subject performs or receives the action of the verb. . . . The passive voice is always formed by joining an inflected form of to be (or in colloquial usage, to get) with the verb’s past participle. . . . As a matter of style, passive voice is typically, though not always, inferior to active voice.
From The Elements of Style by Strunk & White: 14. Use the active voice. The active voice is usually more direct and vigorous than the passive. . . . The habitual use of the active voice . . . makes for forcible writing. This is true not only in narrative concerned with principally action but in writing of any kind.
- There were a great number of dead leaves lying on the ground. versus
- Dead leaves covered the ground.
From Conflict, Action & Suspense by William Noble: Active voice…charges the story and gives it life. Passive voice…simply doesn’t do this. The active voice with its direct and straightforward verb use rivets our attention. When we want to move things along, this is what we reach for so the story pace won’t slip…
Active writing is a large part of showing instead of telling your story. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it on this blog before or not, but I have enjoyed the J.K. Rowling Harry Potter . . . books—reading and listening (yes, I preordered the 7th book the day the release date was announced). But I am firmly convinced that her books would be several dozen if not hundred pages shorter if her editor would eliminate her passive-voice sentence construction:
- It was nearing midnight and the Prime Minister was sitting alone in his office, reading a long memo that was slipping through his brain without leaving the slightest trace of meaning behind (Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Arthur A. Levine Books/Scholastic, 2005, p. 1) . [32 words]
- Near midnight, the Prime Minister sat alone in his office, reading a long memo that slipped through his brain without leaving the slightest trace of meaning behind. [27 words]
When I was in grad school, part of our assignment for the week of residency each semester (when we were all on campus together) was to critique about 10 pages for 12-15 other students. Whenever I received a first-term student’s file, the first thing I did was to do a search for the words “was” and “were” (alone and in combination with “it” and “there”). I then highlighted every instance in red so that when I gave the critique, printed in color so that the track changes and highlights showed up quite well, the new writer would have a good point of reference when I mentioned passive verb structure in my critique.
As far as moving characters around, again I will encourage you to spend some time with the thesaurus. I have section 177 of my beloved Roget’s tagged, marked, highlighted, and dogeared. The section header is TRAVEL and it is where I turn every time I need to get a character from one place to another, for example, across a room. Sure, I could write, He crossed the room to her. It’s active. But it doesn’t really show much. It’s a puppet on a string—and we can see the strings! How about:
- He migrated across the room toward her.
- She flitted through the packed room to join him at the fireplace.
- He drifted over to the table.
- She strayed into the confectionary store.
- He thundered up the stairs.
- She raced down the street to catch him.
- He swaggered into the room.
Simply by replacing “walked” or “crossed” or any generic “go/went” verb with a descriptive verb, the sentence now reveals something about the character—about the emotion connected with the movement—it shows the pace, the body language, the meaning behind the movement, not just the movement itself.
However, you do not need to do this with every single movement your characters make, otherwise you will end up with cartoon characters who bounce, swagger, float, flit, or perambulate throughout your book. Sometimes, a well-placed “went” or “walked” works fine—especially if it’s in the midst of a lot of other descriptive narrative. Let your characters’ emotions and the intensity of the scene lead you toward choosing the correct verbs to use to convey what your reader needs to know about your character’s thoughts and emotions—without “telling” the reader what those thoughts and emotions are!
One area in which choosing these types of active verbs has fallen out of favor amongst publishers is with dialogue tags. No longer are we allowed to use embellished tags such as she grumbled, he roared, or I intoned, and now even said is on the black list. So, the best way to tag our dialogue is to incorporate action or introspection as the tag:
William stepped to the fore of the poop deck. “Mr. Cochrane.”
At the quarterdeck gunwale railing, the First Lieutenant turned and touched his hat. “Aye, Captain?”
“Any sign of the Commodore yet?”
“Aye, sir. Jolly boat just cleared the dock.”
At last. “Ready the ship for sail. As soon as Commodore Northrop is aboard, we’ll get underway for Portsmouth.”
“Sir . . .” Cochrane cleared his throat and shifted from foot to foot.
Not like his second in command to act nervous. “What is it, man?”
“Sir, there appear to be two women with the Commodore.”
William’s stomach clenched. He reached to his right. “My glass.”
Information is disseminated in the dialogue and the movements of the characters start building their personalities. In the last line, because I have written William’s action as He reached to his right, it eliminates the need for a dialogue tag such as he commanded after “My glass.” His action and the dialogue work together to show he is giving a command.
If you aren’t already a people-watcher, become one. Watch facial expressions. Watch the way people move. Does she have a tendency to reach out and touch someone’s arm when speaking to them? Does he raise his eyebrows and nod his head when he listens to his friend’s story? This is a great exercise for when you’re standing in a long line—like the post office on tax day or the security gate at the airport on a holiday weekend. When we stand in line, we’re more than likely frustrated and showing our emotions on our sleeves. How does the person in front of you stand? Tall and erect? Slouching? If he’s talking on the phone, how does he hold it? When you see someone meet with an acquaintance, how do they greet each other? What can you deduct about their relationship by the way they touch (or don’t touch) each other? By their facial expressions and tones of voice? By the way they part? (You can do this with TV shows and movies, but those actions/reactions are, for obvious reasons, not as realistic as what you can observe in the real world.)
Once you can start visualizing and describing the way people move, start applying that to your characters. If your characters were actors and you the movie director, how would you instruct them to convey the emotion of each scene they act out? Or put yourself in the actor’s role. If you had only your body language, facial expression, and tone of voice to convey what’s happening inside your character’s head, how would you move, what expressions would you make, how would you speak?
Then, write it.
Showing vs. Telling—The Sixth Sense
As a reminder, here are the three areas Sol Stein lists as vulnerable to telling rather than showing:
- Telling what happened before the story began
- Telling what a character looks like
- Telling what a character senses (the 5 senses) and feels (emotions)
Monday and Tuesday, we looked at the signposts for telling in the five senses:
- Character SAW/WATCHED (She saw him running down the street.)
- Character HEARD (He heard a knock at the door.)
- Something SMELLED adjective. / Character SMELLED something. (Something smelled like it was burning.)
- Something TASTED adjective. / Character TASTED something. (The sweet taste of the apple filled her mouth a moment before she realized it was poisoned.)
- Character TOUCHED something. / Something TOUCHED character. / Character FELT something. (He looked down when he felt something brush against his leg and saw a cat.
Now we’re going to look at the “sixth sense” when it comes to writing fiction—internal thoughts/stream of consciousness of our characters. The signposts for telling in this area are along the lines of:
Character KNEW (She knew he was unlikely to ever change his mind.)
Character THOUGHT (He thought she might consent to stay a while longer.)
Character WONDERED (She wondered if he would ever stop tapping his fingers.)
A while back, I posted an entry about the difference between incorporating a characters thoughts as narrative in deep-3rd POV and italicized direct thoughts of the character. As I went into detail there, I will not go too much into the discussion of whether or not to use direct thoughts or to incorporate. What I am going to talk about here is how much attention we call to the fact that what we’re writing are our characters’ thoughts.
When we first start out writing, because we’ve read other authors who used it and because we want to make sure our readers know what’s going on, we would write something like this:
- She wondered how she could have let her cousin talk her into another blind date.
Which, if you’re just telling a story is okay—you’re the narrator and you are telling the reader what is going on in the character’s head. When we move over into showing, though, we’re getting deeper into the character’s head—narratively:
- How had she let her cousin talk her into another blind date?
This opens up another whole debate in the world of writing craft because there are a lot of critiquers and contest judges who have a deep-seated loathing of questions in narrative. But, this forces the issue: which of the above examples is telling and which one is showing? (And which one is more wordy?) As always with your writing, you must make this decision based on what works best for your voice and style as a writer. The best advice I can give is read, read, read books in your genre published by houses you’re targeting to see what others are doing.
And now, for another episode of Kaye’s Pet Peeve Phrases.
- Where could he be? she thought to herself.
Two pet peeve phrases in this example: she thought and to herself. Let’s look at the second one first. Unless you are writing sci-fi/fantasy where your characters are clairvoyant, a character’s thoughts are always to herself, thus making the phrase redundant, and, frankly, patronizing to the reader, as if to say that the reader is too thick to realize that the character’s thoughts are in the character’s own head. The phrase she thought is also redundant based on the fact that we’re writing in deep-3rd POV . . . especially when using italiziced internal thoughts as in this example. The simple act of setting the sentence in italics shows the reader that these are the character’s thoughts.
What does your character know?
She knew he was unlikely to ever change his mind.
Aside from the fact it’s a passive sentence (signpost: WAS), it’s also telling (signpost: SHE KNEW). She’s your POV character. We’re in her head. When I think something (to myself), I don’t have the thought I know he is unlikely to ever change his mind. I think, He will never change his mind. Direct.
She knew she’d ventured into treacherous territory—TELLS
She’d ventured into treacherous territory—SHOWS
To round out this discussion, we’ll take a quick look at passive vs. active writing. But today’s the day to let me know if there is any area of Showing vs. Telling that hasn’t been covered here that you still have questions about. If you have a few sentences or short paragraph you would like to post for help in changing it from telling to showing, please do so!
Showing vs. Telling—Do You Smell What I Taste?
As a reminder, here are the three areas Sol Stein lists as vulnerable to telling rather than showing:
- Telling what happened before the story began
- Telling what a character looks like
- Telling what a character senses (the 5 senses) and feels (emotions)
Yesterday, we looked at the signposts for telling in two of the five senses:
- Character SAW/WATCHED (She saw him running down the street.)
- Character HEARD (He heard a knock at the door.)
Today, we’re going to look at the other three senses: smell, taste, touch:
- Something SMELLED adjective. / Character SMELLED something. (Something smelled like it was burning.)
- Something TASTED adjective. / Character TASTED something. (The sweet taste of the apple filled her mouth a moment before she realized it was poisoned.)
- Character TOUCHED something. / Something TOUCHED character. / Character FELT something. (He looked down when he felt something brush against his leg and saw a cat.
As with showing character emotions, make the object of the senses DO something . . . or at least make it as picturesque and descriptive as possible. This is where your thesaurus (or www.thesaurus.com) will come in very handy to help you paint the picture of what is being experienced by your POV character.
SMELL is such a funny word in that it can be used for the action of taking in and recognizing an aroma as well as describing something as giving off an aroma. If you write It smelled, are you saying that “it” did the action of breathing in through the nose and recognizing a scent or are you saying that “it” is giving off a pungency that is unpleasant? TASTE is the same way. TOUCH can mean to actually come into physical contact with something or to be affected emotionally by something. Therefore, we should be as specific as possible.
Unlike seeing and hearing, there is more of an awareness that comes with these final three senses. When we smell something, we are aware we are smelling it or else it would not gain our attention. Same as when we taste and touch things.
- I recognized him even with my eyes closed by the scent of his cologne. or
She didn’t like the way the fish tasted, so she pushed the plate away. or
But Jesus said, “Someone did touch Me, for I was aware that power had gone out of Me” (Luke 8:46).
One of the best ways to overcome “telling” about smells, tastes, and textures/touches in your writing is to become a connoisseur of smells, tastes, and textures/touches. Read perfume descriptions (Light Blue is a feminine, fruity-floral fragrance, composed of granny smith apple, Sicilian cedar, bluebells, jasmine, white rose, bamboo, cedarwood, amber and musk. The lead fragrance is crisp but finishes with the fullness of amber and musk.—Dolce & Gabanna’s “Light Blue” from www.perfume.com) for scents or wine descriptions and reviews (Central Coast is a wine that has vibrant fruit aromas of black cherry and plum. This Petite Sirah is full bodied, yet it has a very mellow structure. With a hint of oak and vanilla on the palate, the finish on this wine is quite lasting and memorable.—Concannon 2004 Limited Release Petite Sirah from www.wine.com) or other gourmet foods for tastes. Remember that the sense of taste is tied to the sense of smell.
Try this exercise. Close your eyes (well, after you finish reading this paragraph!). Imagine you are walking into your favorite restaurant. What does it smell like? Start breaking apart the smell into layers (yes, like an onion, Shrek). What are the component parts of the aroma—garlic, basil, tomato? Corn, cilantro, peppers? Feta cheese, oregano, lamb?
The heavenly aroma of garlic, basil, and oregano mixed with the unmistakable yeasty scent of fresh bread and wafted on the cool air that blew in her face when she opened the door. Anne’s salivary glands kicked into overdrive and her stomach growled. She really needed to stop skipping lunch. (Kaye Dacus, Stand-In Groom)
What kind of restaurant did she enter?
When it comes to touch, focus on textures (grainy, coarse, woven, pile, nap, shag, knobby, pitted, pocked, indented, rough, irregular, smooth, dainty, delicate, gossamer, downy, fuzzy, peach fuzz, satiny, gritty, fluffy, velvety, gauzy, etc.) and actions/reactions:
- He leaned forward and kissed her, his lips warm, soft, and electric.
- William ran his hand along Alexandra’s satiny wood and sinuous curves; a tingling shivered up his arm to his heart.
- His breath tickled her ear as he whispered the heart-touching lyrics of the song . . .
- Susan ran her finger along the embellished epaulette and tapped the metallic crown-and-anchor insignia on it that marked Collin’s years of service.
If you have kids, this is an area where you can incorporate them into your writing. Pull together five or six differently textured items and put them into paper bags. Have your child reach one hand into the bag and try to describe what the item feels like. Or for more messy items, have the child(ren) sit at the table and pass liquidy or squishy stuff in bowls around under the table (so they can’t see it) and have them describe it and try to figure out what it is. Another way to do this is to take one child out of the room, have him/her do this blind touch-test then go back into the room with the other children and see if he can describe what he felt well enough that they can all guess what it was (you can actually do this with adults, too). Listen carefully to the words they use to describe what they felt.
To do this on your own, go to your kitchen “junk” drawer (we all have one). Close your eyes, open it, and see if you can identify every item in it just by touch. Concentrate on the textures, shapes, sizes, surfaces, and so on. Or go to a fabric store and walk around touching the fabrics, the notions, the embellishments. (What does the fabric store smell like, by the way?)
Your turn again! Show your character experiencing one of the following using ALL FIVE SENSES (and dialogue does count as “hearing”):
- Cooking a favorite meal.
- A hike in the forest in springtime.
- A concert seated beside someone wearing too much cologne/perfume.
KayeDacus.com 