[quote]pushharder wrote:
[quote]smh_23 wrote:
[quote]pushharder wrote:
Hey Varq, FYI, I just wrote the first few sentences of my Great American Novel. Maybe I will hire you as editor for the project.[/quote]
Really?
Good luck, my friend. It’s a helluva ride, and 99.99999 percent of the time, you don’t even get this lousy t-shirt. But it’s worth taking, I reckon.
One piece of advice: Pick up a book you really like and study a couple page’s worth of dialogue. Note how and how often attribution (e.g., "said Ishmael or, as I prefer, “Ishmael said”) is offered. Note when attribution is skipped completely. That is the one thing that (in my experience) doesn’t come naturally, even to a great writer.[/quote]
I need all the help I can git, I reckon. Bring it on.[/quote]
You’re very good with words, so here are the small but important things that I think are the most essential (beyond a fundamentally good eye and ear for language):
– Most importantly, what I mentioned above. There is a strong temptation to do “said John,” “said Mary,” “said John,” “said Mary.” The result is awkward, jolty dialogue, and dialogue is very important to the flow of a novel. Cormac McCarthy sometimes goes twenty lines of dialogue without attribution (if there are two alternating speakers). I find that a little much, but it’s definitely worth keeping in mind that the reader can naturally and without effort keep track of who’s speaking for a good long while. Then there are the tricks: “Hey” – Tom Hanks was pointing at his own chest – “I love you.” We know Tom Hanks is the speaker, and you didn’t have to waste a “said.”
– Everybody knows that cliche is to be avoided at the plot/narrative level, but it’s just as bad at the phrasal level. Tits should never be “heaving.” A character should run neither “like the wind” nor “like lightning.” Cheeks should never be “rosy.” Cold should rarely be “biting” (though I do like the idea of, for example, “he leaned into the toothy winter air”). Basically, every phrase you use should be one that you think up yourself. This almost always entails going back through what you’ve written, finding the ready-made cliche phrases, and replacing them with something that’s your own. This figures into Orwell’s essential essay about English (some of the specifics are dated, but the gist is timeless):
http://www.resort.com/~prime8/Orwell/patee.html
– I don’t get the anti-adverb dogma that’s in vogue, but do limit or altogether eliminate “suddenly.” Also, watch adverbs in dialogue attribution, e.g. instead of
“I’m trying,” John said angrily
consider
“I’m trying, dammit. I’m trying.”
– Past perfect. Know when something “was broken,” and when that thing “had been broken.” This gets tricky when you’re going into a longer “had” section. In that case, you generally use “had” a few times at the beginning, and then drop it in favor of the simple past.
– Make chronologies, timelines of events, etc. Making shit up gets really, really confusing after a while.
– At some point near the middle, you’ll decide that the whole thing is pointless, worthless, stupid. You’ll decide to give up. Just keep fucking going. 1,000 words/day minimum, if possible. If not, 4,000/week, or 8,000/fortnight. Whatever it is, stick with it like it’s a strict diet and training regimen and you’re in the NFL.
– Read and dissect and reread and re-dissect this short story, because it’s just about perfect:
– Drink and fuck, because that’s what the greats did, and if it worked for them…
Keep me updated! I love this shit.