A Time To Every Purpose
I’m weary of devices. They’re everywhere. It gets to the point where you read a novel, and you’re thinking, “Ah, yes, foreshadowing. Interesting choice of symbol. Oh, drop a bit of suspense there, huh? Red herring, that. Uh-oh, theme alert: INCOMING!”
There is sort of an image authors like to maintain, that these things—these themes and symbols and the like—are all mystical happenstance. Like Isabel Allende writes:
“But there is something magic in the storytelling. You tap into another world… I have a feeling that I don’t invent anything. That somehow I discover things that are in another dimension.”
Okay, I concede: sometimes things just show up in the book. Themes emerge. Symbols happen. John Irving likes to laugh and shrug and say the bears in all his novels are just coincidence.
Seriously, LIKE HE DIDN’T NOTICE. Once they were there, he made the conscious decision to keep or delete.
Sure, there are writers who end up with that stuff in their novel and don’t realize the technique they’d used. You think their editor didn’t notice? Didn’t consider the keep-or-delete question? Didn’t bring it to their attention?
Yeah, NO.
Which brings me to what I wrote today. I spent an hour writing it, and three hours desperately trying to cover my symbolism and delete all but the essence of my theme.
I spent more time unwriting than writing.
And it still seems to me that all the devices are there in blinking neon lights. Yes, I’m weary of it. Yet these are the elements of fiction; these are the tools of our craft.
I’ll admit that I’m pretty adamant that pseudonym speak nothing of craft. It spoils the magic. No one wants to see the cameras or the supports behind the props.
But there’s not a period in my work that’s not crafted.
So that’s where I am today: frowning at my work and trying to figure out how I can hide all the craft. That’s the challenge. Make it all too blatant, and I irritate readers. Heck, I irritate myself.
More unwriting tomorrow.
What think you?
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Natasha Fondren is a writer traveling the U.S. in a camper with her four cats. She is currently enjoying the lizards and desert heat in Arizona.
Maybe because I don’t plot, and usually don’t know what I’ll be writing as I open up my Word file, that I don’t have that problem. I think much of the book is in my unconscious, but I’m like Isabel Allende. It feels as though I’m discovering my story as I write. Once in a while, I do notice the same symbol reappearing in my books. I don’t think it’s happened in my WIP. I’ll find out during the 2nd draft.
The first draft may be unconscious, but isn’t the second draft conscious? I finally picked up House of Spirits. Since I saw the movie AGES ago, YEARS ago, I’ve been meaning to read it. I can’t wait!
Ah, second (and 3rd, 4th, 5th, and so on) draft. I’m not big on symbols, though now that I’ve said that, guess what I’ll be noticing in my second draft? Actually, I have a disappearing cat I’ll have to make appear. The hero had a cat in the beginning, and about halfway though, I forgot about her.
I’ve recently started feeling this way. I know you have to include certain things but they just seem so OBVIOUS to me that I hate having them there.
Yes, Melanie! So I’m doing more deleting of my craft than constructing, you know? LOL!
I spent three semesters of various Eng. Lit. courses circling “motifs,” a/k/a, symbols that led to “theme” in assigned readings of short stories, poems and novels. I remember thinking to myself, “What if the author really didn’t plant those motifs? What if they just happened to be in the author’s head as he wrote?” And now I find myself sticking in motifs as I write, lol. It’s sort of fun, and gives some cohesion to the story. (Is it a literary fiction thing? I don’t know. I’m still stuck on the true definition of “genre” writing as well as figuring out what it is I write…*sigh*.)
Basically, I go with my muse’s flow. I blame her for the story she coughs up. I’m merely the vehicle for her prose.
Yeah, I don’t know about genre and all that business, either. I think it all basically works the same. Story’s story. But like I said, I don’t know.
I like that method, Kath. I can say, “Not my fault! Blame her!” LOL!
Very interesting! And thanks for the Irving link! He’s fascinating.
Isn’t he, Jill? I was a little disappointed with the last story, but I love his stuff.
More and more I am determined to just go back to writing a story, and not thinking about all the devices. Stephen King nailed it when he said that sometimes, as he writes, he suddenly realizes there’s a themes there and if he likes it then he might tweak it a bit to strengthen it. For me, that might work. Trying to think of a theme first kills the writing for me.
I’m not sure whether I think of a theme first or not. I really don’t know. Sometimes. But once it’s there, I always feel like it’s in blaring neon lights, and want to hide it a little, LOL.
I think that you notice because you’re a writer and you are very, very attuned to your craft and process.
The average reading public, however, doesn’t care too much or probably notice much beyond the obvious. They’re not diving in to your story looking for symbols and telltale signs. They just want a good read. An escape.
Breathe. Relax. You’re better than you think you are.
WriteNow, I love that the average reading public just reads. It’s the people who know what’s going on that you have to get through, though. That’s the frustrating part! I could pull the wool over the former, but not the latter!
That’s the secret,isn’t it, to awesome writing…that elusive “magic” of storytelling — hiding all the structure that keeps it solid. Really not magic at all, but one hell of a lot of hard work.
So true, Joan. That’s it exactly.
I think that, 1) there’s nothing wrong with symbols and themes and foreshadowing and whatever-all else, so long as the writer isn’t dropping them like anvils on the readers’ heads, and 2) writers who’ve studied the craft are much more likely to notice such things than people who just read. So when trying to judge whether or not your average reader will eyeroll at the red herring or be annoyed by the blatant slathering of theme all over the place, a skillful, aware writer probably isn’t the best person for the job.
Angie
I think you’re right on both counts, Angie. That’s one reason I love to get feedback from non-writers and non-editors. They see things differently, and they’re the majority of the sales, in the end.
When I read I’m entirely “in the moment”. I just enjoy the story, or the prose, and eat Cheese Itz. The only time I’m jarred by something is if its clumsily done, and that is rare. I think you should craft your craft in peace.