Knowing the Rules Before You Break Them -- Still a Rule?
Posted by Andie Ryan Blog at 3/31/2010 12:55 AM 
Categories: Editing Notes
Tags: rules of fiction Woody Allen writing instructor Luke Skywalker Harry Potter character dialogue experimentation in writing Pulp Fiction revision short story structure first draft King Arthur plotting fiction rules breaking the rules aspiring writer Joseph Campbell point of view genre writing student pacing professional editing novel structure writing fiction writing talent Arthurian Legend
Categories: Editing Notes
Tags: rules of fiction Woody Allen writing instructor Luke Skywalker Harry Potter character dialogue experimentation in writing Pulp Fiction revision short story structure first draft King Arthur plotting fiction rules breaking the rules aspiring writer Joseph Campbell point of view genre writing student pacing professional editing novel structure writing fiction writing talent Arthurian Legend
I spoke recently with a college student whose writing instructor told him that his work wasn't structured enough, presumably because it didn't follow some expected formula.
Think about the many structures of a novel or short story. When an instructor tells a student to stay between the lines just for the sake of staying between the lines, I think this is more a failing of the instructor than the student. All one has to do is turn to literary magazines for numerous examples of fiction that breaks the rules. Remember our Pulp Fiction example -- one of the first movies to show action out of sequence. No one really considered that before in the same way. Remember the Woody Allen movies, and all the asides to the camera -- point of view shifts, certainly. But a new technique, and comically effective.
Yet, knowing the rules of setting, plot, dialogue, action, and pacing, and practicing established fiction-writing techniques, is what enables you to break those same rules effectively as your writing matures and you learn your craft.
I remember a recent writers' gathering at which a well-known bestselling author said he could write a book in less than two months. I have no doubt believing that his draft would be polished and that the main serial character would ring true to fans. But when students or other aspiring writers hear this, I think they view it as a benchmark they should be able to achieve, or strive to achieve. Worse, they may be all too willing to believe that their two-month effort is comparable to that of a bestselling author who's unicycled around the professional editing block a few times. More times than not, it won't be, not because of a lack of writing talent, but because of inexperience.
(By all means, try to produce a first draft in two months -- that's a good exercise too. Just don't let it see daylight.)
The aspiring writer may not realize that producing a really terrific first draft, while possible for a bestselling author who has an editorial team standing at the ready to finish it off, is unlikely to happen for them -- at least, not right away. So when they submit that first draft and get turned down -- repeatedly -- it can cause bitter disappointment and discouragement.
How many of these rejections are associated with inexperienced rule breaking? Probably a lot.
My first draft of SHAKEDOWN was awful, and my second was even worse. That's more than six hundred pages of stinking tar. Each. I tried to break a few rules, but didn't fully understand what I was doing.
Scientists will tell you that a failed experiment is a success because it gets them closer to an answer, closer to the truth. Same with fiction. If not for those early drafts, I wouldn't have been as receptive to change, to really understanding what I was trying to accomplish, and applying (learning) technique to what was already there to build a stronger story and stronger characters.
Encouraging experimentation in writing is a good thing -- but you have to be willing, as with any experiment, to take the time to understand what works and what doesn't. What is it about the writing that stands on its own and what needs help? Apply that kind of thinking, and you're in business.
This may be why a lot of writing instructors stay in the middle of the road -- it's hard to argue with precedent. And there are many argumentative students out there who simply don't want to hear that writing takes a lot of work, which can strain even the best teacher's sanity.
1) Read work that is similar to what you're writing. If you're a student, ask your teachers for examples and do your own research, but also insist that there be some practical learning from the experience. Don't settle for just "reading the same genre" because it happens to be similar relative to your subject matter or basic plotting. Dig deeper. Look for how characters struggle with emotions in situations that may be similar, and then aim higher, aim to avoid the predictable (you almost always can.) Know what you want to change, and know how your story will strive to be different. What do you admire? What do you lose patience with as a reader -- very important. If you're writing about heroes, read the recognized classics, read Joseph Campbell, and don't forget your folklore. Compare Harry Potter and Luke Skywalker with the legend of King Arthur. How many similarities do you see? What's different? How is your story different?
2) Practice 15-20 minute sessions in which you write a scene or a description -- anything. The view from your window, a character in your neighborhood, what your child looks like sleeping. Let it sit for a few hours or a day, read it through, then write it again (without referring to the first version). If you do a few of these, you will see patterns in what kind of writing you fall back on -- cliche, bodily reactions, writerly metaphor, extraneous dialogue, interrupting your own action. The "scene" technique will improve your writing over time -- get you closer to what's really going on with your characters. The "careless" and "predictable" writing will fall away and be replaced with something more meaningful that your readers, and characters, will relate to more closely.
3) Rewrite a specific scene or stretch of dialogue from another point of view, or introducing another action or event. If you want a real challenge, write it from the point of view of a character from a different part of the country, local slang and all. Use one of your own scenes, or pick any novel off the shelf.
4) Think about the rules you want to break. Why do you want to break them? (This is important.) In what different ways might you break them? If you're leaning toward telling and not showing, the telling has to be spectacular, more than chronology or fact-spitting. Spectacular.
Now you're in the laboratory with your experiments.
Just remember - no experiment is a failure.
Think about the many structures of a novel or short story. When an instructor tells a student to stay between the lines just for the sake of staying between the lines, I think this is more a failing of the instructor than the student. All one has to do is turn to literary magazines for numerous examples of fiction that breaks the rules. Remember our Pulp Fiction example -- one of the first movies to show action out of sequence. No one really considered that before in the same way. Remember the Woody Allen movies, and all the asides to the camera -- point of view shifts, certainly. But a new technique, and comically effective.
Yet, knowing the rules of setting, plot, dialogue, action, and pacing, and practicing established fiction-writing techniques, is what enables you to break those same rules effectively as your writing matures and you learn your craft.
I remember a recent writers' gathering at which a well-known bestselling author said he could write a book in less than two months. I have no doubt believing that his draft would be polished and that the main serial character would ring true to fans. But when students or other aspiring writers hear this, I think they view it as a benchmark they should be able to achieve, or strive to achieve. Worse, they may be all too willing to believe that their two-month effort is comparable to that of a bestselling author who's unicycled around the professional editing block a few times. More times than not, it won't be, not because of a lack of writing talent, but because of inexperience.
(By all means, try to produce a first draft in two months -- that's a good exercise too. Just don't let it see daylight.)
The aspiring writer may not realize that producing a really terrific first draft, while possible for a bestselling author who has an editorial team standing at the ready to finish it off, is unlikely to happen for them -- at least, not right away. So when they submit that first draft and get turned down -- repeatedly -- it can cause bitter disappointment and discouragement.
How many of these rejections are associated with inexperienced rule breaking? Probably a lot.
My first draft of SHAKEDOWN was awful, and my second was even worse. That's more than six hundred pages of stinking tar. Each. I tried to break a few rules, but didn't fully understand what I was doing.
Scientists will tell you that a failed experiment is a success because it gets them closer to an answer, closer to the truth. Same with fiction. If not for those early drafts, I wouldn't have been as receptive to change, to really understanding what I was trying to accomplish, and applying (learning) technique to what was already there to build a stronger story and stronger characters.
Encouraging experimentation in writing is a good thing -- but you have to be willing, as with any experiment, to take the time to understand what works and what doesn't. What is it about the writing that stands on its own and what needs help? Apply that kind of thinking, and you're in business.
This may be why a lot of writing instructors stay in the middle of the road -- it's hard to argue with precedent. And there are many argumentative students out there who simply don't want to hear that writing takes a lot of work, which can strain even the best teacher's sanity.
1) Read work that is similar to what you're writing. If you're a student, ask your teachers for examples and do your own research, but also insist that there be some practical learning from the experience. Don't settle for just "reading the same genre" because it happens to be similar relative to your subject matter or basic plotting. Dig deeper. Look for how characters struggle with emotions in situations that may be similar, and then aim higher, aim to avoid the predictable (you almost always can.) Know what you want to change, and know how your story will strive to be different. What do you admire? What do you lose patience with as a reader -- very important. If you're writing about heroes, read the recognized classics, read Joseph Campbell, and don't forget your folklore. Compare Harry Potter and Luke Skywalker with the legend of King Arthur. How many similarities do you see? What's different? How is your story different?
2) Practice 15-20 minute sessions in which you write a scene or a description -- anything. The view from your window, a character in your neighborhood, what your child looks like sleeping. Let it sit for a few hours or a day, read it through, then write it again (without referring to the first version). If you do a few of these, you will see patterns in what kind of writing you fall back on -- cliche, bodily reactions, writerly metaphor, extraneous dialogue, interrupting your own action. The "scene" technique will improve your writing over time -- get you closer to what's really going on with your characters. The "careless" and "predictable" writing will fall away and be replaced with something more meaningful that your readers, and characters, will relate to more closely.
3) Rewrite a specific scene or stretch of dialogue from another point of view, or introducing another action or event. If you want a real challenge, write it from the point of view of a character from a different part of the country, local slang and all. Use one of your own scenes, or pick any novel off the shelf.
4) Think about the rules you want to break. Why do you want to break them? (This is important.) In what different ways might you break them? If you're leaning toward telling and not showing, the telling has to be spectacular, more than chronology or fact-spitting. Spectacular.
Now you're in the laboratory with your experiments.
Just remember - no experiment is a failure.
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