I have spare time. Why don’t I write a novel? It so happens I’ve been writing one for several years. My fifth, now up to 56,000 words. One page of a printed novel carries 368 words, about 152 pages. Long past the point where a reader might say, I’m gonna junk that.
Lindsay, my heroine, has progressed, is now wealthy and carries great authority. She is single and unattached. In the next 40,000 unwritten words unpleasant things are going to happen from which she will emerge, changed. Sounds simple. But novels aren’t just facts. Detail must be converted into drama to grab the reader’s interest. Raw material needs animating.
Lindsay meets Amber whom she doesn’t like. Amber’s situation is greatly changed. The two women talk. Uh-uh, not so promising. Describe their clothing? Nah, that’s passive. Resurrect their relationship? Let’s hope the story has already done that. They have an argument? Getting warmer. They suppress having an argument? Warmer still. In suppressing the argument one of them lets slip a secret? Aha! Their regard for each other alters and the reader – remember him/her? –wonders what may happen next. Bingo!
That’s the creative process much simplified. Turning facts into matters of interest. Again, it sounds simple. Alas, it ain’t. Lindsay and Amber have met before; somehow this meeting must differ from all other meetings. Turn on the Creative tap and it hisses drily. Discouraged by the unchanging pandemic.
Yes, I can string words together. But will anyone want to read them? The $64,000 question.
Call The Samaritans? Help, I’m finding novel writing terribly difficult. Relax! Watch Pointless.
I can recommend anodyne tv watching to combat the unending and worsening global news. There has to be a bit of denial from time to time. I detect a hint that you may have actually watched Pointless, or slightly more unlikely you may be a closet addict. I have just finished watching the whole of Mythbusters on Prime Video over a period of weeks. I have seen at least ninety percent of them before, but oh! what joy when I came across one I hadn't. I now need something to replace that medicine, perhaps I will read a novel?
ReplyDeleteSir Hugh: It's the news I find anodyne and repetitive and don't seek out these qualities when I have a choice. I've just re-viewed the 60-episode series of the brilliantly written Sopranos and am now embarked on re-viewing the equally well-written and even longer West Wing, as compensation for four years of another kind of occupant of the White House.
DeleteWhat's this about "detecting a hint". I've seen about ten minutes of Pointless with my grandson and found that the name admirably describes the product. In my post it does duty as a recommendation by The Samaritans. Current reading: Alan Rusbridger's (former Guardian editor) on how to handle today's news sources, a new and very well reviewed biography of Graham Greene, and a modern German novel translation called Why We Took The Car. Since you say you read slowly why not read short novels: The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, Vile Bodies, Loser Takes All, etc, etc.
Hmmmm, women assess another woman by many things, number one by dress. While passive, it is a 'tell' of status, condition, circumstance, personality, all those things we supposedly don't speak about...don't brush it aside so lightly. Besides, crazy historical people love those details. Unless Lindsay (whose circumstances has improved) is a saint, she will assess this other person, very carefully not just in conversation, but in her dress.
ReplyDeleteIs Amber who she appears to be or someone else entirely?
LOl, only you know, now.
Sandi: Here I'm looking for things that have the potential to turn into events, thus drama. Something other than description which is mainly used to set scenes. Clothes have, in any case, been used regularly through the novel, since they may hint at character and aspects of gender. But if one doesn't guard against it they may become a standby.
DeleteHere's an extract from page one where clothes were at the core of action:
But Lindsay never got to answer. Jenson, passing behind, found the pin-striped polyester stretched over her rump too enticing. Went for a fondle with added linger. Hearing Lindsay gasp, Mr Kossof looked up and frowned: tanks occupying a lawn he reckoned he already commanded. Disappointed he pushed the signed contract back and turned towards a TV screen selling car insurance for the over-fifties.
Furious but not showing it, Lindsay hurried to the loo and dissipated her fury in high-pressure pee.
Lindsay has known Amber for years; has had to bear Amber's preaching about the overwhelming importance of motherhood. More recently Amber has to some extent lost her moral high ground since she has virtually been "adopted" by Lindsay's mother. Amber is looking for a favour from Lindsay but - not surprisingly - is finding it difficult to express herself. Thus conflict. Thus reader interest.
I had to laugh at your example. However you would have been flogged in my writer's group (male and female) for sexist and mysogyny. And Lindsay scoffed at for not responding properly. So there is your drama, at least from here.
DeleteSandi: Come on! Does that mean I can't write ABOUT a misogynist? To put it another way, if I write about a misogynist am I automatically thought to be one?
DeleteSuppose I wrote about a murderer?
In fact Lindsay goes on to score against Jenson. And there's a further 55,000 words describing how Lindsay progresses in life. All my central characters (in five novels) are women and I love them all.