DANNY-ISMS

In my high school drama class, the teacher used to watch our scenes and monologues and comment on what she called our "-isms," which were our subconscious behaviors that we were completely unaware that we were doing while on stage. These actions, tics, quirks, and nervous behaviors identified us as individuals and interfered with our total transformation into whatever character we were trying to portray. To emphasize the point, she attached our first name to the "-ism." Consquently, my subconscious behaviors became "Dannyisms."

In writing, we also have our "-isms." These would be expressions, themes, patterns, fall back beats and character actions that identify our style. Recently, I marked up a manuscript for a writer friend of mine and noted how often her characters swallowed. During scenes of dialogue, the character were always swallowing. In that novel, that was her "-ism." I'm not picking on that writer; we all have our "-isms" and we do not realize we are doing them. In a 200-plus page manuscript, it's hard to keep track of every last little action we give our characters, especially in the heat of composition. That's what peer readers are for.

In reading the second draft of School Spirit, I noticed many of my Dannyisms. Namely, that people were always "exhaling." "He looked at her and exhaled." "I exhaled to release my tension." "She exhaled in relief." People were also always having "lights go on" when they realized something. "A light went on in his head." "The light went on in her head and then he realized what happened." And a variation: "A light came up in her eyes and then she knew." Or the like. It's okay to put these in a rough draft to keep the story moving. But eventually, we must go back and fix them. As a result, during a quick polish, after the second draft of SS, I tried to locate and surgically alter most or all of my "-isms."

The point here is that during at least one draft, it's important that we search for our "-isms," and kill them. Well, not all of them. There's nothing inherently wrong with swallowing, exhaling, or having lights go on. We don't need to kill them all. But if they appear as a noticeable pattern in an entire manuscript, we must hope that some compassionate reader will point them out (with an eye to helping us improve our novel) and then we must have the courage to make a pass through the book and exhange some of them with new, fresher, and more original actions and behaviors for our characters.

That care and attention to detail will not only improve our overall writing skill and make our novel better, but cannot help but increase our chances of getting an agent or finding our onto the shelves of the local Barnes and Noble.

At least that's the plan.

THE CAREER NOVELIST OR, DONALD MAASS II

I noticed in the "About the Author" section of Donald Maass' book The Fire in Fiction, that he offers a free downloadable version of his book The Career Novelist, that came out about ten years ago, and which is now available on the Donald Maass Literary Agency website (www.maassagency.com).

I investigated the possibility and here's what I discovered:

• Once again, Donald Maass gives an insightful, considered, and highly informed look into the agenting/publishing/authoring business. His writing, as always, is stunningly down-to-earth and easy to access, and often more funny than you might expect.
• Maass gives insider secrets away as if they are candy and helps writers who want to create novels over the long haul develop a healthy self-image, and workable business/career plan, and a college graduate's understanding of the industry.
• This possibly out-of-print book is probably not available in stores and was listed new on eBay starting at $79.99 (!), but is yours free for the cost of the paper and toner to print it (although it is 268 pages).
  
• This book, along with Maass' other books has, without a doubt, made me a better and better-informed writer.
  

Download this book now.

DONALD MAASS, YOU DA BOSS!

In another blog I extolled the virtues of a number of writing books that I said were the equivalent of a fiction writing MFA and at a fraction of the cost. They were Bob Mayer's The Novel Writer's Toolkit, Noah Lukeman's The First Five Pages, Renni Browne and Dave King's Self-Editing for Fiction Writers, and Donald Maass' Writing the Breakout Novel, both book and companion workbook.

Well, Donald Maass has done it again. At my local Barnes and Noble recently, I picked up his latest manual on fiction writing called The Fire in Fiction, and it was--bar none--the best (and most applicable) book on writing excellent novels I've ever read. It sounds impossible, but Maass literally takes what I would call the "intangibles," the elements of great novels that seem to be just a part of a writer's magic, and then says, "Here's how you do that." Elements like micro-tension, first lines/last lines, creating unique and compelling minor characters, and imbuing setting with emotion and resonance are discussed in a very accessible manner and, amazingly, every chapter is followed by clear and helpful exercises to apply to a current manuscript. In this perfect balance of theory and practice, author and agent Maass has given fiction writers a manual they cannot ignore. And considering his history and experience in the publishing industry, this is a man to listen to.

I CANNOT wait to tackle the second draft of School Spirit having learned these new techniques from The Fire in Fiction. Just by reading it, I know I've become a better writer. In short, this is stunning stuff.

Go now to your local bookstore and pick up Donald Maass' The Fire in Fiction and become a better writer, possibly by the time you reach the checkout counter.

Perhaps I was unclear. I mean, stop reading this pathetic attempt at written expression, do not pause to turn off your computer, and go to the bookstore and buy is book!

Right now!

Ahem. If you're a serious novelist, you won't be sorry.

(And if you aren't a serious novelist, it just might make you one).

COLORS, REVISITED. . .

As I said once in another forum, teaching Lord of the Flies to ninth graders is a bit redundant. That said, I've learned something new about the book during my most recent trip--probably my 15th or 16th journey into Golding's abyss with the English schoolboys run amok.

I had no idea that Golding used so many colors in his writing. This time through I noticed that, on almost every page, Golding uses color to create a more vivid experience for the reader.

Here are some examples:

Describing the conch shell: "In color the shell was deep cream, touched here and there with fading pink " (16)

Describing Jack: "Power lay in the brown swell of his forearms " (150).

Describing the destruction of the conch: ". . .the conch exploded into a thousand white fragments and ceased to exist" (181). And in the same paragraph:

Describing the death of Piggy; "His head opened and stuff came out and turned red" (181).

There are a thousand other examples I could cull from, as I said, most every page. I have been sensitive lately to the use of color in writing since heeding my colleague's advice to add more color to my own writing, especially in School Spirit. In subsequent drafts, I plan to write the word "colors" at the top of the chapter I'm revising and look for strategic places just to add a color or two to make the scene more visual, vivid, and, well, colorful.

"You need more colors," my colleague said.

He was right.

Golding novel proves it.

DAVID SEDARIS, 99 WORDS, AND WHY I WRITE

Recently, though a strange succession of events, I actually read a complete book by humor essayist David Sedaris. For years I've been flipping through his books at the bookstore and laughing out loud so hard I have to put the book back on the shelf because people start to look and I am embarrassed. At that point I usually think, "I have to buy one of his books sometime."

But until recently, I never had. When I finally did, and read through a collection of his essays, he became one of my new favorite writers. Sure, he was funny, but when you were least expecting it, he would lay in an image or a detail or make a connection or share an idea that would make your breath leave your body or, quite simply, break your heart.

Through Sedaris, I was reminded of what a profound pleasure it was to read really good writing. I was reminded about how black marks on the page, elements like word choice, detail, syntax, and structure could ultimately have an escalating and then, all at once collective emotional impact on you. Not to mention, reading good writing was like eating dessert to me-- think hot caramel sundae, New York cheesecake, creme brulee.

It was that good.

And in the same way that a good dessert makes you want to cook or bake, good writing makes you want to write.

***

So I came in today to do my 500 words on School Spirit. But my head wasn't really in the game. There were some things on my mind, some work called to me, and we're in the middle of a crazy and especially stressful testing schedule at the school where I work. But in an attempt to be a self-disciplined writer, I sat down to do my job. 500 words in thirty minutes. That's my goal. That's my mantra. So I began Chapter Thirteen and I wrote ninety-nine words. Not fifteen hundred or one thousand words, but ninety-nine. And I sat back and I looked at those ninety-nine words and thought, okay, interesting syntax, a couple passable images, a smooth style. Not so bad. I didn't meet my quota, but what I wrote didn't completely suck. And that counts for something, I thought.

And I do, truly believe that.

***

For whatever reason, it was just the other day when my wife committed to a middle grade novel that she had had for years. My wife has no desire, as far as I know, to be a fiction writer. That said, I've always told her that I knew she was a fine writer and an avid enough reader to put the two together and tell some excellent stories if she so chose. On top of that, the idea she came up with was pure money.

In an effort to help, I was digging through a box of old writing books I have to see if I had any manuals that would help her. In doing so, I found an old book of essays called Why I Write, and I read an essay by short story writer Thom Jones, a writer I've always admired. His writing was so passionate and electric and, at the same, so down-to-earth and so real, that it made me think back to the ninety-nine words I'd written earlier in the morning and want to pitch them in the trash.

That's the paradox: good writing makes you both want to write and makes you feel that there is absolutely NO POSSIBLE WAY that you could match what you're seeing in print.
Great writing inspires, but it also paralyzes.

The bottom line?

You must write anyway.

You must, always, sit in the chair and type.

End of story.

DIALOGUE VERSUS NARRATION

The good news is that I still haven't missed a day of writing in the four weeks I've been at this--averaging thirty-forty minutes a session--but I noticed something today worth mentioning.

In fiction (or the fiction I've written, anyway), the scenes with two or more characters where there is much dialogue seem to flow very quickly--even if there is action or inner monologue interspersed--and fill up pages very quickly. But since this book is, essentially, a ghost story, there are parts where the main character is alone and establishing an eerie or mysterious mood is critical.

This results in a lot of narration, with very little dialogue.

This is a much slower process because I actually HAVE TO WRITE!

I hit one of these parts today where the main character is up in the middle of the night and can't sleep. He is about to have a supernatural experience, but no one else is around--hence, no dialogue. I'm going to try to throw some other things in there to break up the dense sections of text, however. On the other hand, that might be a second draft thing.

I still try to be aware of pace, though, but also seem to constantly worry
that one)I'm not writing enough and two)I'm bogging things down.

As they say in Hollywood, I guess we'll work it out in post-production.

POINTS TO PONDER

• While I am grateful for a day off work, it is a writer's nature to feel guilty when he's not writing and, since I write exclusively at work, I was a little agitated during last Monday's Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday. I tried to recognize that it was normal, though, and forgive myself.
• I finished, spellchecked, and printed Chapter Two. 25 pages and counting.
• I'm already recognizing certain structural problems with the beginning of the book, like the fact that I'm starting Chapter Three and, so far, we've still only seen two characters (Drew and Ben). That's a problem. Not insurmountable, but problematic, nonetheless. I understand that this book is more of a mood piece--in theater we used to call them chamber pieces--but that doesn't excuse it being claustrophobic in terms of character.
  
• I just finished Twilight, Stephanie Meyer's YA sensation. While I give her props for great details, an unerring understanding of the history and lives of the characters, and a killer (literally) story, in terms of the structure, I'm surprised, quite frankly, that this book was ever published. About halfway through it just takes off in a completely new direction and follows this new tangent throughout the remainder of the book (maybe I shouldn't use the word "remainder" in a blog about my novel, hmmm.). The new direction was very tense and exciting but felt unrelated to what came before, as characters and story threads were dropped or ignored. I know that there are other variables--timing, social climate, luck, ,etc. But I'm still surprised an agent found this structural schizophrenia was acceptable.
• Another area that I'm operating on a ton of faith is this: School Spirit is the most "un-outlined" book I've ever written. I have a ton of background material, including a detailed treatment (what they use for screenplays), but there are still parts of the story that to quote an old colleague "have not yet been revealed to me."
• Got some good work done today, though--1,125 words in about 45 minutes.

AND ON THE THIRD DAY. . .

Starting this book was difficult because of the infinite number of questions that need to be answered about things like backstory, point of view, prologue or no prologue (no, if you can avoid it), etc. So I did write a few pages in the last few days that I'm sure I will eventually be cut--almost certainly--or, at the very least, end up somewhere else in the book. The other benefit is that I get to meet the characters and listen to their voices for awhile.

But for the most part, what I've written so far has been complete crap.

But today, the third day, I started what I suspect might be the beginning of chapter 2 (or possibly chapter one--the opening of the book--if I have no prologue). I described a dream that the main character--Drew Bacino--has that mirrors the way his girlfriend died.

And it wasn't complete crap.

In my previous writing experiences, I was usually pretty good at presenting the visual imagery (i.e., what the character saw or description of what was around. . .). But I've been noticing that I'm now better at including the other senses in the first draft--smell, taste, touch, and sound.

I'm hoping this bodes well for a better first draft.