Thursday, July 9, 2009

Confidence

After hearing a lot about confidence in the blogosphere lately, I thought I'd mention my little confidence booster from today.

A friend and unfortunate beta reader of mine noticed an outline for yet another story and chided me that I spread myself out over too many projects. She says I'll never finish anything. Then she asked about the werewolf book.

Oh, the werewolf book. That unfortunate foray into storytelling enjoys an almost permanent spot on my shelf as I struggle to make it better than it is. (I secretly fear that I'd have to scrap half of it or more to make it anything.) I told her it was shelved because it needed editing.

"But it was my favorite so far," she told me.

Internally, I performed a dance of joy. 'Yay! Someone said something nice about it!' (Observe as my psyche skims over the potential negative spins of that sentence.)

She agreed to read it for me, much to my joy. She'll probably regret those foolish words when I drop the 62K words onto her lap, but c'est la vie.

For now, I smile. :D

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

That's So Hip!

"Radical."
"Bitchin."
"Cool."

We've all heard it. Slang. Everyone uses it. Basically, if you intend to communicate with a human, it can't be avoided. In fact, there are whole websites designed for the defining and perpetuation of slang.


As a writer, the question would be, how much slang can one slip into a text without risking it becoming dated at a moment's notice? If a book is full of slang, some day those words won't be used any more. And if that day is soon, it risks making the book seem out-dated like the words. For example, Song of Solomon is starts in 1931 and continues of several decades. There are countless references made and terms used with which people today are likely to be unfamiliar. (True, those words weren't dated slang from the publication in 1977, but they're still throwbacks to a previous time a lot of reader's didn't live though.) If the reader doesn't get the reference or the word, then they might miss something important.

There is, of course, another way to go. Do-it-yourself slang. In the Uglies Trilogy, Scott Westerfeld's characters use some slang that the writer created, such as 'kick' to describe something awesome or 'to kick' to mean to link over to something else, or resurrected from previous disuse, such as the millihelen as a means of method of measuring attractiveness. It's easy for the reader to get a hold on, fits well in a futuristic period, and isn't likely to become dated any time soon. (Unless we all start using it. Heck, I'm already using it sometimes, since I tend to absorb the diction of whatever I'm reading.)

Personally, I try to avoid being overly trendy with my word choice, because I'd prefer to retain a certain timeless quality to my work. Besides, who am I to say what kind of slang makes it into other worlds?

How much slang do you use? Does it ever irk you to see some slang in books?

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Extras

This morning I remembered a review I'd seen for the Twilight movie. The guy said that he'd gone to see it, because he knew one of the extras. His words, which I am forced to paraphrase due to insufficient memory recall, were something to the effect of, "If you go see this movie, see it for the extras. I firmly believed all of them in their roles. The leads, not at all." I, personally, make no comment on this, though I will concur that I believe the extras in their roles, so kudos to them.

This got me thinking about the importance of extras and minor characters. In the book Breaking Dawn, I absolutely loved when Garrett, who just got zapped off his feet by the vampire Katie, says, "If I let you up, will you knock me down again, Katie?" (Maybe it's just me, but when I read that, I immediately reached for my copy of Taming of the Shrew. Oh, Petruchio.) As basically extras, they stole the show as far as I was concerned.

Do we need "extras" in stories? Of course. Do we need them to be really good extras, good characters in their own right? I think definitely. True, it probably doesn't help if they are terminally more awesome/interesting than your main characters, nor if they are much more believable, but that's where the balance comes in. You don't need to write a mini-character just to make them cool or witty. They only need to be there to serve whatever role you need them to play. They just have to be believable in that role.

There's no need to spend a paragraph on the life of the cashier checking the MC through as he buys a 6 pack of Sierra Mist, but flesh her out a bit. Maybe she has a nose piercing, the same hairstyle as his mother, or speaks with a Boston accent. There can be little details that make the filler character more believable as a human being. I just wrote a few extras for my WIP. One is a foreigner and two are brother and sister. Why? Mostly, because. Those seemed like nice details for characters whose personalities didn't matter overmuch to the whole story.

The only thing to be wary of is how much you flesh them out. As I once heard an author say, "If you just wrote 500 words about a tree, then something better happen with that tree." They were right. If you devote three paragraphs to the man your MC is standing next to in the elevator, he should be someone like the MC's girlfriend's husband, not just a random guy who happens to live in the building. Otherwise, you run the risk of the reader getting distracted wondering why you spent three paragraphs talking about the man.

Are extras important to a good book? Do you use a lot of extras in your writing or hardly any? How much time (in the book and out) do you devote to the extras?

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Happy July Fourth

Happy Independence Day Everyone!

Friday, July 3, 2009

Character Flaws -- How Much Do We Need Them?

How important are character flaws? I'm not going to sit here and say that there is no reason to give your characters flaws. I couldn't take myself seriously if I did that. But let's face it, some people are good people, and though they have unattractive characteristics and moments of imperfection, they don't come with a whole host of flaws.

While I get bored with the unreality of the inexplicably perfect character like other people do, I do believe that there are some people who are good, nice, and without obvious flaws and that these people aren't necessarily uninteresting. I've met one person who is nigh perfect, and he is anything but boring.

One reader pointed out my main guy as being a little too perfect. She said he should have some flaws to round him out. I thought about that. When I thought of him, he was just a nice guy. He's patient, loyal, and honest. And I'd like him to stay a nice guy. Otherwise there'd be no reason for him to have friends, let alone get the girl. (Yeah, I know, jerks get the girl a lot in the real world, but I'd like to think my MC has better sense that to fall in love with a jerk.)

As far as I'm concerned, he is "flawed" is some respects. He is incapable of going for what he really wants. He's secretly in love with the MC, but instead of doing something about it, he just decides to watch things play out while she could be falling for another guy. That kind of behavior annoys the heck out of me in people, so why shouldn't it be his annoying quality? I don't want him to drink to excess, speak with an annoyingly nasal voice, or have a debilitating allergy to peanuts. I like him the way he is.

Is it enough for characters to have only one or two imperfections? What's really rounding a character out, and what's just making them flawed for the sake of trying to round them out? Are some people just without discernible flaws and is that boring?

(For other thoughts on the subject, click here.)

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Guy Stories and Chick Flicks

I don't watch a lot of TV, but one of the few shows I do watch is NCIS. In an older episode, a suspect compares his relationship to the movie Bounce. I'm not too familiar with Bounce, but from the summary used in the show and on IMDB, I can comfortably agree with the character Gibbs when he dubs the movie a chick flick. In Gibb's analysis, in a guy flick you kill the guy after setting him up to take the fall for your robbery, take all the money, and marry the dead guy's wife. (His version was somehow pithier, even though I cut out the references to the show's plot.)

That's when I had an epiphany. Hamlet is a guy flick, at least according to the show's definition. I mean, (spoiler alert!) Claudius kills his brother, steals the kingdom, and marries his now dead brother's wife. Not to mention some sword fighting and ghosts, neither of which have been known to chase guys away from a movie.

I had a good laugh over that. I know a lot of guys who need to be dragged kicking and screaming into Shakespeare (apparently, all theater is by nature feminine and emasculating) but apparently, Shakespeare was writing some quintessential guy flick stuff all along. Maybe it's the iambic pentameter that's scaring folks off.

I think such a principal could be applied to books as well. What necessarily makes something a guy book or a girl book? For every stereotypically masculine book I've ever heard of, I've met female readers. And for a lot of feminine stories, I've met guys who enjoy them. I think even in more gender-specific genres, there's a way to make room for the other gender and make it good for them,too.

Are there any other hidden guy flicks out there? Are there such things as guy books and girl books? Any success stories in bridging the gender gap?

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Jumping In

Sometimes I've worried that I have trouble getting into the meat of my story quick enough. I fear that what I deem necessary information is really some form of intellectual stalling before I hand the reader the true business of the tale.

I recently started WIP2, which has been in outline for a while. I wrote the beginning as I'd imagined it and realized something. I'd just slammed right into the story. The first page begins with the last two minutes of what has apparently been one fight too many for my MC. Less than five pages in, she decides to run away, which is when the fun gets to start.

I'm not so sure how I feel about this. Did I jump in too quickly? Am I throwing something at the reader and expecting them to understand too much from the beginning? Or is it better to just get right down to business? I am uncertain.

For the moment, I'm charging in head first, and I think I'm going to see how that works out. Who knows, it might get interesting.

How much does an author need to do before jumping into the meat of the story? Is there some magic formula to determine how much back story should go in up front and how much can be left for reveals later?

For other thoughts on this topic, try here. :-)