Writing Fiction – Do the Research (but don’t be constrained by it)

These headphones are conducting rigorous research – are you?

Image © healingdream

I recently finished the first draft of my novel, and I knew immediately it would need a lot of changes. I’d been constructing a unique fantasy world as I wrote, and the world I ended up with was a lot more complex than the one I started with – more complex, but not necessarily richer.

Mainly this was because I’d gradually created a culture based on the technologies of nuclear weaponry, opencast mining, and basketry, yet knew almost nothing about any of those topics. Thorough research was needed.

A good research plan, followed rigorously, can enrich your fiction – its settings, histories and characters – by adding background detail. Even if the things you learn never make it onto the page, having the information in your head will give you more confidence in the topics you’re addressing.

It may even be the case that you’ve totally misunderstood a subject, and you have to make major rewrites. Irritating, but better to find out after the first draft than when an agent or publisher takes it upon themselves to check up on these things! Don’t assume you know about something just because it featured in an episode of CSI!

At the other end of the spectrum, the research may open your eyes to so many new possibilities that your imagination is fired up all over again, and you can’t wait to make those rewrites. I’m delighted to report that this is exactly what happened to me.

One important thing to note is that research should enhance your writing, but not smother your creativity. Don’t give yourself so much research to do that there’s no time left for the actual writing – be tactical, and only choose topics that are central to your characters or setting.

Also, don’t feel that you have to cram all of the fascinating new information you discover onto the page. Only incorporate the information that’s relevant to the reader.

Most importantly, don’t aim for perfect realism at the expense of a good story. Rich, detailed fiction benefits from being grounded in some sense of reality, not from emulating it – that’s called a ‘textbook’ or ‘the news’!

Are you a writer? How much research do you generally do? Do you make a research plan? And how deeply does your research inform the finished product? Click ‘comments’ below, or e-mail pithytitle@live.co.uk

Writing Fiction - The Rule of Three

In Britain, the middle hand is very rude. Except when Churchill does it. Then it isn’t. For some reason.

Image © arztsamui

It’s been suggested that, because humans are wired to look for patterns, and because three is the minimum number of anything required to form a pattern, we naturally find structures of three particularly satisfying.

They’re short. They’re punchy. They’re memorable.

This is why narratives are often comprised of three acts, why fairy tales often include groups of three talking animals, and why characters often succeed at something on the third attempt.

This structure is now so ingrained in the popular subconscious that people expect things to come in threes, even if they’re not actively aware of it. They’ll become confused and agitated, like lambs at a bestiality rave, if a character takes four attempts to succeed at a task, or if the story unexpectedly concludes at the end of the second act.

As writers, we need to use this information to our advantage. I wouldn’t recommend making every element of your story crop up in threes, because that would make it surreal and predictable (an unlikely combination, and certainly not a good one); just be aware of it.

Anything particularly significant should probably have a whiff of ‘threeness’ about it. Perhaps the hero only succeeds in killing the Dark Lord on their third encounter. Perhaps he (yes, fine – or ‘she’) must overcome three distinct barriers to reach the Dark Lord. Or perhaps the Dark Lord can only be killed by destroying the three component parts of his consciousness.

People expect it, like it, and remember it.

That said, you can also use your writerly knowledge of the ‘rule of three’ to work against the reader’s expectations, from time to time. Unexpectedly kill the Dark Lord on the second encounter, only for the reader to later discover that he’s transferred his dying essence into the hero’s mind, and must be battled one more time inside the hero’s own psyche.

Why not check your manuscript to see whether you’re working with the rule of three, or against it. I can’t honestly say it’s something I’ve had at the forefront of my mind whilst writing Gwillum Hobnail, so I’ll be looking out for it (or it’s absence) myself as I work on the second draft.

Do you use the rule of three? How closely do you follow it? Is it important, or just a load of old guff? Add a comment below, or e-mail pithytitle@live.co.uk

How to Write a Unique Setting for your Fiction

There could be some orcs in those trees. Or a hen. Or something.

Image © Evgeni Dinev

Writing a fantasy novel is rewarding, but tricky. I’m currently on the second draft of my first fantasy novel, and one of the things I really want to improve on is the sense of place. I want the settings in my story to seem real, alive and vibrant.

To help with this, I’ve devised a Location Reference Sheet. There are various character reference sheets floating around the internet to help write richer characters, and I’m convinced that locations can benefit from the same treatment. Since I am truly the nicest, cuddliest, kindest man in the world, I’ve decided to share it with you.

The reference sheet is designed as a resource for writers of all speculative fiction, but will be particularly useful to writers of fantasy or sci-fi. It should help you to maintain consistency when writing about a setting, and help you find a deeper understanding of the locations in your story or novel.

The document is available from Google Docs as either a DOC or PDF:

Location Reference Sheet for writers.doc

Location Reference Sheet for writers.pdf

You can download the document by clicking the ‘File’ tab towards the top-left, then selecting ‘Download Original’.

The way I see it, the more detail and thought you put into a setting, the more engaging it will be for the reader. In the first draft of my novel, Gwillum Hobnail’s Affairs of the Undershade, the subterranean setting suffered from being just a series of big caves – because that’s what it was in my head.

Now that I’ve thought more about the history of the locations, the bizarre wildlife, and the unique challenges of living underground, the Undershade is shaping up to be a much more interesting place.

When you know enough about your setting, and can picture it in your mind’s eye, the evocative descriptions practically write themselves.

Are you writing a fantasy or sci-fi novel? Did you find the Location Reference Sheet useful? Click the ‘comments’ button below, or e-mail pithytitle@live.co.uk

Book Review: The Neverending Story

 

Image © Alexandre Duret-Lutz

The Neverending Story, by Michael Ende, has ended. Furthermore, it has ended prematurely. This isn’t because the book caught fire or was whisked away by an albatross whilst I was reading it, but because the author has betrayed me, and I am giving both him and his much-loved novel the finger. How have I been betrayed? I’ll explain shortly.

First, in case you’ve been living in the centre of the Moon since the 1970’s, this is the basic premise of the plot; awkward kid steals a book and hides out in an attic, reading about the adventures of a not-awkward kid in a dying fantasy world. Awkward kid realises that only he can save the fantasy land, and enters the world of the book….

I gave up reading shortly after this.* Why? Because having spent a third of the book building up this fantasy world, introducing us to its rules and its characters, and inviting us to invest emotionally in its continued existence, Ende commits the bizarre act of ripping up his own story and effectively starting from scratch.

The entire world and everything in it is destroyed in an instant and made anew. The central characters are unceremoniously written out of the plot in a few throwaway sentences (and they don’t come back – I flicked through to check).

The one piece of continuity with everything that has happened up to this point is the continued existence of Awkward Kid, but within a single chapter, Ende changes not just his appearance, but also much of his personality, effectively making him an entirely new character, beginning an entirely new plotline, in a new world, with a new supporting cast.

Up to this point, I had already found the novel awkwardly written, and a bit of a slog (although it is a translation, which may be partially to blame). I’d found most of the characters to be simplistically-drawn ciphers, and the world itself to be an incoherent hodge-podge of fantasy miscellany.

The book had been very highly recommended to me by a friend, so I had been prepared to give it the benefit of the doubt, but now I’ve actually reached a point where The Neverending Story is having a negative impact on my life. I just don’t want to pick it up and carry on reading. I can’t be bothered to go through the tedium of forced investment in ‘Mark 2’ of Ende’s plot. At the same time, it doesn’t feel right for me to have two books on the go at once, so I’ve read nothing for three weeks – a sad state of affairs for a writer. I need to get back on the horse.

To that end, I’m abandoning The Neverending Story. The hideous grind is over. Goodbye.

Have you read The Neverending Story? What did you think of it? Am I being unfair? Please leave a comment below, or e-mail me.

*My understanding is that the plot of the film version also draws to a close shortly after this. Coincidence? Or simply an indication that I have exactly the same attention span as a Hollywood executive?