Getting Into the Groove

I just received a really nice note from a Goodreads friend named Alex who has the itch to write but doesn't know how to start.

We've all been there, haven't we? Think about all the skills you've learned over your lifetime--reading, riding a bike, cooking a pot of pasta, driving a car--and what it felt like at first. The word that comes to my mind is overwhelming. I remember, vividly, my first driving lesson: hands on the wheel trying to steer, foot on the gas (or brake, more often), eyes bouncing from the road to the mirrors to the dashboard, my brain on overload. It seemed impossible that I would ever be able to drive with ease. But eventually I did--and I never would have if I hadn't gotten behind the wheel in the first place.

And so it is with writing. You'll learn by doing. The trouble is that learning to write, or learning to create any kind of art, feels different than other skills because our thoughts and feelings are so exposed. Emotionally, there's more at stake. We're afraid of appearing idiotic or dull to others--or, even worse--to ourselves. Spoiler alert: No matter who you are, at one time or another both are going to happen. But you will also experience moments of joy when you turn out work that surpasses your expectations. If ups and downs are a given for all of us, why not stop fretting and just get to work?

Whether you're picking up a pen for the first time or returning after a long hiatus, here are a few baby steps to help you get into the groove. 


Step 1.  Buy yourself a beautiful notebook and a bunch of your favorite pens. 

Even if you think you'd rather work on a computer, I urge you not to skip this step. For the first several months it's best to stick with paper and pen. Nothing is more discouraging than a blinking cursor, or more distracting than knowing the Internet is just a tab-click away. Lovely paper and a smooth-writing pen are a pleasure to use. By purchasing good writing materials, you are making a commitment to taking yourself seriously as a writer.


Step 2.  Schedule your writing time.

No matter how busy you are, I guarantee you can find ten minutes a day to write. You can either block out the same time every day or you can choose to be flexible--as long as your ten minutes are done by bedtime. No excuses. For the first month, I recommend sticking to ten minutes only. Even if you're on a roll and could write for an hour, shut it down after ten minutes. It's always best to stop when you're hot--it makes it a lot easier to sit down and write the next day. In fact, it will make you look forward to writing the next day. Getting the motivation to sit down and write is half the battle.

After the first month or so, up your time to fifteen minutes. Then twenty. Settle into a block of time that is comfortable for you. Most writers I know only write for a maximum of about four hours a day. How long you write for is less important than keeping a consistent schedule. Some writers insist that you must write every day. Personally, I take weekends off. If your schedule allows you to only write on weekends, do that.


Step 3.  Give yourself permission to be bad. 

Oh, the hours I wasted, staring at a blank screen, afraid to write a single bad sentence! It would have been so much better to just give myself permission to write the worst possible sentence and then fix it later. You can't edit what isn't there. Every writer writes junky first drafts. The real art, the real skill is in the editing. You have to write garbage--a lot of it--to get to the good stuff. To learn how to write, you'll need to be a garbage-producing machine. In my college oeuvre of junk-writing I produced a schmaltzy story entitled "Pink Soap and Lilacs", that still makes me want to gag whenever I think about it. I will not be sharing the awful details of this particular story with you, which brings me to the next step:


Step 4.  Don't share with anyone--yet.

As you begin to churn out your requisite pile of word-sludge you may suddenly strike gold. You might suddenly hit upon an idea for a nail-biting thriller or you may turn out an exquisite sentence that makes you proud. Your instinct will be to share it with someone, but I urge you to keep it to yourself. As I've said over and over again, you will rarely get the ecstatic reaction you are hoping for and early on your writer's ego will be too fragile to handle it. When you find a golden nugget in your junk pile, hoard it. Keep this treasure for yourself. Keep hoarding your literary gold until you have enough of it to feel confident in your ability. If it pleases you, that's all that matters.


Step 5.  Read, read, read. 

When I got my first ghost-writing job, I still wasn't quite sure how to intersperse dialogue with action.   I wasn't even sure how to properly punctuate dialogue. To learn how, all I did was open a book and see how it was done. Every book is an instruction manual. Unsure how to open a story? Or create suspense at the end of a chapter? What about using page breaks? Everything you need to know is sitting on your bookshelf. Take down a few of your favorite books and see how it's done. I still do this all the time.

You should also be constantly reading for pleasure. Read what you like, not what you think you're supposed to read. Fill your head with words and they will be accessible to you when you need them.


Moving Forward

Once you've practiced enough to produce a rough draft of a short story or several chapters of a novel, then you might want to consider finding a writers' group in your area. Don't rush this step, but when you're ready writers' groups can be an invaluable resource for every skill level. For more info on choosing (or starting) the right group for you, see my post about writing groups.

Do you have a question about writing or publishing? Leave a comment and I'll do my best to answer it in a future post. 

Happy writing!

Dialogue Workshop: The Interview

Dialogue is a tricky beast. The key is to make it as natural is possible (when appropriate), but what sounds natural to our ears doesn’t always scan well on the page. I’ve learned a few techniques here and there to deal with different dialogue problems—today, I’m going to talk about how to avoid writing an exchange between two characters that sounds like an interview.

All writers have done this at one time or another. You have two characters and you need to convey some bit of information, so you kick off the dialogue with character #1 asking a question. Character #2 answers the question. Character #1 asks another question. Character #2 answers that question. And it continues on and on with character #1 basically conducting an interview and character #2 adding nothing to the conversation.

For example: let’s say we have two characters, Bob and Joe. Bob has sent Joe to the store to buy some soda. An hour later, Bob finds Joe sprawled on the couch, watching TV.

“Did you go to the store, yet?” said Bob.

“Yeah,” said Joe.

“How long have you been sitting here?”

“A while.”

“Where is my soda?”

“On the counter,” said Joe.

“Why didn’t you put it in the fridge?”

“I forgot.”

“Was there any change?”

“It’s in my coat pocket.”

There is always a place for a character to ask repeated questions, but like all things, it should be used in moderation. This time, I’m going to rewrite the example, eliminating all but one question:

“Did you go to the store, yet?” asked Bob.

“Yeah,” said Joe, “Got back a while ago. Soda’s on the counter.”

“It’s warm.”

“I forgot to put it in the fridge, sorry.”

“You can leave the change on the table,” said Bob.

“It’s in my coat pocket if you want to get it now.”

By eliminating all but one of the questions, you can avoid the monotony of interview-style dialogue. The conversation becomes tighter and Joe has the opportunity to participate and have a little personality.

A different way to combat an interview is to answer a question with a question. This is a particularly good technique when there is tension between the two characters. Here’s the same example again, rewritten with Joe asking some questions of his own:

“How long have you been sitting here?” asked Bob.

“What are you, the TV police?”

“Where is my soda?”

“Where do you think? It’s on the counter,” said Joe.

“You could’ve put it in the fridge.”

“I forgot.”

“Was there any change?”

“Are you worried I’m going to keep it?”

It’s a bit much to counter every question with another one, but you can see how answering a question with another question turns the tables and puts Joe in control of the conversation instead.

Another option is to have Joe avoid answering the questions altogether:

“Did you go to the store, yet?” asked Bob.

“It’s on the counter,” said Joe.

“It’s warm. Why didn’t you put it in the fridge?”

“The change is in my coat pocket.”

In this example, Joe’s answers come across as non sequiturs, but in the context of a larger conversation it would illustrate avoidance and closed off emotions.

Interview-style dialogue sometimes reads like the author is thinking aloud; it's almost as if he's the one asking the characters what's going to happen next. When you catch yourself in the question and answer cycle, take a moment to dig a little deeper.

Artistic License

For an interesting discussion on grammar in dialogue, head over to novelist Tess Gerristen’s excellent blog. Her last two posts have been a response to readers who complain about grammatical inaccuracies in her characters’ speech. With her usual grace, Tess explains the difference between “proper” English and “spoken” English, and how it’s a conscious choice to ditch the rules for the sake of natural dialogue.

As far as I’m concerned, when it comes to dialogue, anything goes—as long as it doesn’t sound stiff. Real people speak in broken sentences, they clip words, they repeat themselves. Speech is naturally imperfect and imperfection is emotionally revealing. A character’s speech patterns are determined by background, level of education, geographical location, and motivation, among other things. If the dialogue doesn’t reflect these parameters, the story will suffer a credibility gap.

Intentionally using improper speech, as Tess points out, isn’t always an easy choice. There’s a risk that your reader will think you are stupid, or will take offense. For example, in my novel, there is a fair amount of profanity. A few readers have told me that they would have enjoyed the book more if there had been less swearing. I make no apology for my use of language because I do not use such words lightly. The characters in my story are from a rural town, have limited education, and are a bit rough around the edges. To purposely avoid profanity—especially in emotionally charged situations—would have given the dialogue a false ring. On the other hand, I’ve had a reader comment that my characters didn’t swear enough. One can go overboard that way, too. Dropping the f-bomb in every sentence is distracting and can render a work unreadable.

Another instance when incorrect grammar can be used to good effect is in narration. If you have a strong narrative voice, you are effectively having a dialogue with the reader and it can be treated as such. Take this blog, for example. Two paragraphs up I was supposed to put “and” before the phrase “they repeat themselves”. I left it out intentionally because it had a better rhythm. I’m also fond of sentence fragments, which can be very conversational. And how.

Let’s face it, folks—rules are meant to be broken. It’s artistic license. Instead of getting ruffled by every little grammar mistake, I think we need to look at the bigger picture. Grammar is a system of rules designed to make speech and writing more clear and precise. If a writer has done this, even while breaking the rules, then we ought to be generous enough to cut him a little slack.