Last week, we discussed the concept of the sticking point and how they can arise when dealing with plot and theme. These might be thought of as the higher level sticking points. But sticking points can occur at any level: it can be as simple as a sentence or as complicated as a character arc.
Here are some common sticking points that can occur:
In my own writing, I rarely find that all elements cohere seamlessly: sometimes dialog will flow effortlessly but I will struggle to describe a relatively simple location; at other times, characters will feel like uncommunicative teenagers, but I could easily spend ten thousand words describing someone’s living space.
Ideally, all elements of a story should be in service to the work as a whole, which is why it is so helpful to have at least a rough sense of plot and theme early on. The prose of The Spy Who Came in From the Cold is largely detached, cynical, and calculated, which helps to convey LeCarré’s own cynicism about the Cold War; the absurd, greedy, and insane characters of Catch-22 all help to drive home the psychological cost of the war.
I’m sure everyone is familiar with the aphorism that in order to be a good writer, one must write, write, write, and read, read, read. But what should one be reading, reading, reading? I believe there are two major sources that help overcome sticking points: fiction and non-fiction.
Picture stories as water, flowing across the Earth. There is the ocean of literature, impossibly vast and beautiful, bursting with opportunity but difficult to navigate.
Then, there is genre, flowing over the land, still powerful and nourishing, but less treacherous and overwhelming. Over time, they work deep channels and furrows into the land, rivers and streams leading to reservoirs and lakes. We have the raging Thriller River, the more sedate but still flowing Western Lagoon. Sometimes there are dry seasons, where a genre seems all that’s dead; sometimes the water seems stagnant and still.
It’s helpful to know where you are on the map. And it’s helpful to know who else is on the water. There is a publishing concept called comps, or comparison titles, which refers to the books most similar to your own. Most aspiring writers are also avid readers, but if you find yourself hitting a lot of sticking points, you may want to rethink how you’re reading. There’s a big difference between passively consuming media and actively studying it and asking questions:
I have noticed an unfortunate tendency for inexperienced authors and critics to assume that any deviation from the standard narrative to be a mistake – “this is how it should have gone.” But I believe this is a very dangerous mistake for writers: while there is value in recognizing one’s own aesthetic sensibilities, we should make an effort to understand what led to the decision first.
And if an author does something particularly well, we should take some time to understand how they did it, as well. Sometimes, when I’m stuck on Razors, I will conduct a survey and try to find multiple examples of something similar in other works, to see how they dealt with the problem. Generally, I find it easier to think of a fourth idea after seeing three prior examples than trying to invent something entirely from whole cloth.
I also think it’s important to step outside of your comfort zone. There’s a certain range of what I would call comfortable fiction that is easy to read but doesn’t have much of an impact. And perhaps that’s the type of writing you aspire to. But if you want to set yourself apart, it helps to have a sense of the full range of possibilities, and add more tools to your toolbox.
Writing, like music, is composed of patterns and rhythms. There are popular trends and overplayed cliches. Being aware of them, even if you want to repeat them, makes the job easier.
Fiction can help you get a sense of what’s common, what’s popular, and what’s commonly accepted, but it can only get you so far. As I get further into Razors, I find I’m reading less and less fiction and more and more non-fiction.
I typically find myself alternating between general reading and targeted reading. General reading is about trying to understand a particular concept or historical event, and I’m not even sure what questions to ask – for example, I’m currently reading about mercenaries, to gain a better sense of how they operate. In this stage, I tend to read books cover to cover, so I can get a better sense of the terrain.
For targeted reading, I have a specific question in mind. Some questions I’ve asked during the first three chapters include:
In this mode, I typically don’t need to read an entire book, I just need to figure out where the correct answer is hiding. Often, I find the most difficult part of this can be articulating the specific question.
If you really want to learn something, nothing beats going outside and experiencing it for yourself. This is something I’ve done for stories in the past, but will obviously be more difficult when you’re writing science fiction.
That said, there are some places I’d like to visit and some people I’d like to interview I believe would make Razors a better book, and I hope to explore this further in future posts.
Next week, however, we’ll look at the current sticking points for Chapter Four, and what I’m doing to try to get them unstuck.