Write This, Not That
Part 1 of 5: Tips for taking your fiction to the next level.
Part 1: Writing Beyond the Obvious
How to write what you don’t see.
“What are we going to do today, Julie?”
“The same thing we do every day, Writer. Try to take over the writing world.”
Writers have a tendency to be focused on one thing: writing the greatest words ever written!
Unfortunately, this may lead to surface writing, or what is known as stating the obvious.
As writers we tend to write dialogue and describe what our characters are wearing, while detailing facial expressions and body movements. This leads to shallow characters and flat prose. Dialogue and action are the things right in front of us that readers need to see, yes, but readers need more. They need to know why the character is saying what they’re saying and why they’re acting the way they’re acting. The why behind the words and actions is what keeps the reader reading.
Getting past what’s right before your eyes — in order to write beyond the obvious — is crucial to crafting quality fiction.
To do this, writers have to write about what they don’t see.
Language as a Tool
I used to believe that language could only be used to describe my characters and how they lived. But I’ve learned that language is also a tool to expose the what and why of my characters. Language can be used to reveal parts of your character without blatantly writing why.
Here are some examples.
Social Sentiments and Phatic Utterances
Social sentiments and phatic utterances are used by writers to describe the obvious. The misuse and guilt of using these phrases in your fiction writing can easily be avoided by understanding their true purpose.
Many argue that social sentiments and phatic utterances are useless language fragments that have no real purpose. However, in real life, the purpose of social sentiments is to bind speaker to hearer.
“How are you?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
Phatic utterances are another form of free and aimless social intercourse that seek to invite and engage speaker and hearer.
“Nice weather we’re having today.”
“Yes, it is.”
These prefabricated phases, although they are completely devoid of real meaning, script our lives in a very precise way. These are examples of language forcing us into the roles of neighbors, acquaintances, or residents. They are expressions of connections between one human to another.
So instead of opening your story with two characters engaged in stalled and empty dialogue . . . how are you? I’m good, thanks . . . use these phrases to show the reader a part of the character they’ve never seen.
For example, let’s say your main character is Jim and he moved into the neighborhood six weeks ago. You could write . . .
Every morning at 8 a.m., Jim, with his pressed pants and hair combed neatly, emerged from his home to water the petunias along the fence he shared with his neighbor. By staying on task, Jim was able to complete the chore and be back inside his home by 8:15 a.m. daily.
This passage describes Jim’s actions and hints at the idea that he may be a stickler for time, but we’re not exactly certain what’s up with Jim.
How different would this passage be if Jim’s neighbor, Dorothy, chimed in?
“Darrell,” Dorothy nudged her husband with a stiff index finger then pointed toward the new neighbor’s house, “this is the fifth day in a row he has watered his petunias without so much as a nod in my direction. Have you noticed our uptight neighbor never looks over here? Not a single ‘hey, how are you?’ or ‘how about this weather?’ He’s a strange sort, don’t you think, Darrell?”
Thanks to Dorothy’s astute observations, the reader now sees your main character as antisocial and unfriendly because of the absence of social sentiments. Writing what we don’t see happening tells us about what could be motivating the character.
Social sentiments and phatic utterances — by their absence, overuse, or misuse — are one way of revealing the ‘what’ of your character. Even though this is a start, understanding ‘what’ isn’t enough. Readers also want to know ‘why’ the main character is the way he is.
Reshaping Language: Beyond ‘What’ to ‘Why’
Another way language shapes us is when it gets specific about how we experience ourselves and others.
For example, when we hear an elderly lady say, “Regard with deference and esteem those who are your superiors,” it’s language that is telling us that lady is a snob.
Her comment makes her personality obvious: she’s a snob. This is ‘what’ information: what is this lady? A snob!
The same thing happens when we hear the curt phrase, “Respect your elders.”
It’s language that gives our own morals a wallop and we immediately jump to the conclusion of snob or forced recognition.
This language makes our character’s disposition quite obvious while simultaneously keeping her one-dimensional and boring for our readers. Here’s an example of telling without showing using dialogue and description.
“Those who are superior should be given preference,” Mrs. Alta said as she clicked the door closed, leaving Amanda alone on the floor of the closet surrounded by darkness and moth balls.
This version leaves no room for the why, only the what.
But because language is a tool we can use to show instead of tell, we can show our reader what’s going on with our character . . . if we take things a step further!
Is it possible for language to be reshaped? Recombined? Can it do more than we think it can? What if we wanted to experience language differently? And use the words to mean more than they’re saying?
How could we go about using language to write something new and not something obvious regarding snobby ladies? Like why they’re they way they are?
For example, here’s how I’d show what she was — a snob — with a hint of why she’s the way she is.
“Those who are superior should be given preference. I learned that lesson behind a locked closet door and you will learn it too. One way or another, you’ll learn too.” With a flip of her wrist the closet door clicked shut.
Suddenly our snobby lady has a past that points to the origin of her high and mighty contention.
Suddenly language has made it possible for us to see the flesh on our snobby lady’s bones. It reveals the what: a snobby lady who thinks she is being disrespected, and the why: a history of harsh discipline and forced obedience that she has mistaken all these years as respect.
That’s a lot of information to take away from four lines of prose. But it’s better than writing the obvious.
It’s Your Turn
I’ve thrown you a bone, now avoid the obvious — don’t just write about the bone — put some flesh on it.
For help avoiding the obvious when it comes to writing, look beyond the expected and expose the hidden and unknown parts of your characters, whether they like it or not.
Go ahead. Your turn!
“Are you pondering what I’m pondering, Writer?”
“I think so, Joolz, but pants with suspenders never have looked good on me.”
This is part 1 of a 5 part series.
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In peace and light,
Joolz