Powers of Observation and Lazy Writing
Where do writers get their ideas?
Books and stories stem from ideas, but their depth is derived from the writer's power of observation. I think of this as the degree to which the writer sees things and internalizes them, translating them into plots and behaviors to which others can relate. Worried that everything has been written about and there is no uniqueness left? One person's observations of a common event, his description of a scene, will be completely distinct from those of another, because it is one's own sensibilities and experiences that translate those observations into something unique to the observer. Your use of metaphor -- once you learn from the cliches and let them drop away -- will be unique to your own observations and impressions and emotion.
Take those extra few minutes to study things -- cars, clouds, paintings in a museum, a face, a piece of clothing in a window, the dinner on your plate, fog, the way a child runs or how she laughs. What do these things remind you of? Use all your senses -- how do things look, feel, smell, sound? Whether writer, composer, painter, or poet, your artistic world is your own and yours only. You make it your own.
And that's the scary part. It can lead to emotional evasiveness, at least at first, that fear of getting those real feelings onto the page or the canvas.
I notice this a lot in early novels, mine included, and now I think I know why. Try an exercise: scan your writing for the physical, body-focused cliches -- hearts pounding, hearts skipping beats, lungs swelling, cheeks burning, sweat pouring, knees weakening, fists clenching, lips curling, holding one's breath, gut tightening, fear gripping one's chest. These are easy to write, second nature, standard reactions that "tell" us that someone is afraid, angry, tense, ready to fight. We're used to these instinctive human responses. We understand them and know what they mean. But they're evasive. They don't really get to the heart of things. Some people call it "lazy writing." If someone is breaking down a door, do we really need to be told that someone else's heart is pounding? Or that they're afraid?
I think that we use these fallback references as placeholders when we don't know what else to say, or when we lack confidence that our action or dialogue is getting the job done.
What we really care about as writers and readers is emotion. What characters are thinking and feeling. How they respond internally to what happens to them. How those characters on the page feel, and how they make us as readers feel, how effectively they make us forget that we are reading. Lazy writing calls attention to the author's hand when the author should be invisible. Lazy writing breaks the story's spell.
Try to replace these references with real emotive substance or experience. And if you can't think of anything, don't replace them -- just get rid of them, most of them anyway. Ask yourself what dialogue, action, memory, or observation would be more powerful to convey the emotion the character is experiencing. You'll be surprised at how much cleaner your prose is, and how much heavy lifting can be done by the action and the dialogue. What happens, or what is said or not said, should be enough to convey the desired emotion.
Trust what's on the page without overstating or trivializing it with direct bodily references and reactions -- unless it directly relates to or influences the action, and not as an afterthought or filler.
Anyone want to confess their favorite cliches and promise never to use them again?
Books and stories stem from ideas, but their depth is derived from the writer's power of observation. I think of this as the degree to which the writer sees things and internalizes them, translating them into plots and behaviors to which others can relate. Worried that everything has been written about and there is no uniqueness left? One person's observations of a common event, his description of a scene, will be completely distinct from those of another, because it is one's own sensibilities and experiences that translate those observations into something unique to the observer. Your use of metaphor -- once you learn from the cliches and let them drop away -- will be unique to your own observations and impressions and emotion.
Take those extra few minutes to study things -- cars, clouds, paintings in a museum, a face, a piece of clothing in a window, the dinner on your plate, fog, the way a child runs or how she laughs. What do these things remind you of? Use all your senses -- how do things look, feel, smell, sound? Whether writer, composer, painter, or poet, your artistic world is your own and yours only. You make it your own.
And that's the scary part. It can lead to emotional evasiveness, at least at first, that fear of getting those real feelings onto the page or the canvas.
I notice this a lot in early novels, mine included, and now I think I know why. Try an exercise: scan your writing for the physical, body-focused cliches -- hearts pounding, hearts skipping beats, lungs swelling, cheeks burning, sweat pouring, knees weakening, fists clenching, lips curling, holding one's breath, gut tightening, fear gripping one's chest. These are easy to write, second nature, standard reactions that "tell" us that someone is afraid, angry, tense, ready to fight. We're used to these instinctive human responses. We understand them and know what they mean. But they're evasive. They don't really get to the heart of things. Some people call it "lazy writing." If someone is breaking down a door, do we really need to be told that someone else's heart is pounding? Or that they're afraid?
I think that we use these fallback references as placeholders when we don't know what else to say, or when we lack confidence that our action or dialogue is getting the job done.
What we really care about as writers and readers is emotion. What characters are thinking and feeling. How they respond internally to what happens to them. How those characters on the page feel, and how they make us as readers feel, how effectively they make us forget that we are reading. Lazy writing calls attention to the author's hand when the author should be invisible. Lazy writing breaks the story's spell.
Try to replace these references with real emotive substance or experience. And if you can't think of anything, don't replace them -- just get rid of them, most of them anyway. Ask yourself what dialogue, action, memory, or observation would be more powerful to convey the emotion the character is experiencing. You'll be surprised at how much cleaner your prose is, and how much heavy lifting can be done by the action and the dialogue. What happens, or what is said or not said, should be enough to convey the desired emotion.
Trust what's on the page without overstating or trivializing it with direct bodily references and reactions -- unless it directly relates to or influences the action, and not as an afterthought or filler.
Anyone want to confess their favorite cliches and promise never to use them again?
Thanks for the post - very helpful!
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Thank you for the informative post. I think your advice on writing will be very useful to a lot of people. Writing is a difficult thing, and it's great to hear about other peoples' experiences!
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I think that we're so used to these "fallback references" because we see them on a daily basis. We have so much terrible writing surrounding us everyday, that we just accept it as "normal" and move on. Great topic!
Cheers!
-Booker
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