I know
many of you dream of writing The Great
American Novel, but just don’t know where to start. Since I have now
written two, I believe I am qualified to give you a few ideas. So with that
presumptuous introduction concluded, I offer the following thoughts for your
consideration:
1.
Listen more than you talk. The primary reason
for this advice is that you don’t want every character in your novel to sound
like you, especially those of opposite gender. To achieve authentic dialogue,
you must write from your experiences of authentic conversations. This should be
an easy one because most people talk more than they listen, usually a lot more.
The only time you may encounter difficulties is if you run into someone else
who has also read this blog—an unlikely event, but possible.
2.
Study the behaviors of living things. When attending a
meeting, observe each person’s facial expressions, the blush of their cheeks,
the gleam of their eyes, the tone of their voice, the curl of their lips. When
strolling down a busy street, pay attention to the manner of each person’s gait,
the swing of the arms, the movement of an impatient man through a crowd, the
sounds of laughing children, the shape of a cat curled up on the entry mat of a
townhouse, the feel of someone bumping against you. When sitting at a park
bench on a sunny day, peruse the young couple holding hands, the old man
shuffling along with the aid of a cane, the flash of a runner speeding by, the acrobatics
of a squawking crow alighting on a branch, the homeless person snoring under a
tree, the dog taking a crap. The possibilities for useful observation are boundless.
3.
Use all of your senses all of the time. Too often, even
though I cannot even see the eye chart without my glasses, I rely primarily on my
eyes to understand my environment. Try this the next time you are gazing at a
beautiful sunset: close your eyes and hear the sunset; push your fingers into
your ears and smell the sunset; hold your breath and feel the sunset; open your
mouth and taste the sunset. Or try this the next time you are walking up an exterior
stairway on a luminous afternoon after a rainy morning: watch your shadow dance
across the treads and railing posts; feel the roughness of the splintery
handrail rasp against your palm; relish the painful burn in your thighs as you
trudge up each step; listen to the rhythmic sound of your footfalls and the
shimmer of the trees and the song of the birds; smell the pungent fragrance of the
dewy shrubs and damp grass. Now, when you are about to write about a character
watching a sunset or walking up stairs, you will be ready.
4.
Learn to discern essence. Accurate details are
important, but a long narrative of endless details does not make for a good story.
Instead, discern the fundamental essence of your point and use a few punchy
details to reinforce it. If you are writing of a galloping horse, don’t use
thousands of words to describe the twitch of each muscle and thereby bore the
reader to tears. Instead, discern the essence of a galloping horse as you see
it, and choose the details necessary to make this essence come alive in the
reader’s mind.
5.
Collect the trivial stories of others. You cannot rely on
your experiences alone to provide sufficient grist for a novel. To create a
remarkable work you must sprinkle the small stories of others throughout. In my
first novel, Toil Under the Sun, I
included a variation of the story of a man who had served in the First Marine
Division during the Korean War. He had evidently shoved a branch that looked
like a shriveled hand up his sleeve and had sent a photo of the unfortunate
spectacle to his mother. It only took him a few seconds to tell the story, but
it provided me with over two pages of quirky material.
6.
Embrace the variety of emotions. It is easy to bask in
the pleasant warmth of happiness and to ignore suffering, but your fictional characters
will not thrive in a reader’s mind unless you imbue them with a plausible range
of emotions. And until you have examined
your own experiences, from giddy joy to bored indifference to abject despair,
you will have not the slightest idea of how to achieve this. When you meet a stranger
in the waiting room of the hospital who is dying of cancer, do not be afraid to
listen to their story or give them a hug. When friends have decided to divorce
and each person reaches out to you for advice, offer compassion in equal
measures. When you lose your job after years of faithful service, remain
sanguine but allow yourself time to grieve. When you awaken from an unsettling
dream, remember the feel of cold sweat. Plunge into the depths of your emotions
with utter fearlessness, and you will find, with practice, that it is not too
scary after all.
7.
Do not let school interfere with your education. Formal education is
important, but you do not need a college degree in English to write well. And,
in my opinion, the intensity of useful education diminishes and the amount of
political indoctrination increases as one advances through each grade level. Study
because you are passionate about a topic, not because you are trying to achieve
a better grade point average. Question every assertion until you have evaluated
the facts to your own satisfaction. Do not believe just because others believe.
Believe because you know it is true.
You may have noticed
that I did not include such mundane advice as study English grammar or write
every day or read the great books of the western world or write about what you
know or keep a personal journal. Better authors have already covered these
suggestions. My goal is to push you beyond the mechanics of writing to explore
the deepest regions of personal expression. But a word of warning: when you finish,
you may decide to become a jazz musician instead.
