TWC The Writing Craft: Great Advice from an award winning author

Chris Fisher is a fellow writer over at The Master's Artist. This essay is so full of great writing advice, I think you'll be really blessed. His bio appears at the end of the post. Check out his other writing!

Some Not-So-Biblical Advice for Writers

In the beginning was the word. And in the end is the word.

At its most elemental, writing is the stringing together of words. This may sound like stating the obvious, but it’s something we all forget from time to time. I think we as writers prefer to think that we are stringing together ideas, and though this is true, in a sense, it’s important to realize that this manipulation of notions and concepts is actually occurring in our own imaginations. In short, it’s all in our heads until it’s written in the word.

As one of my old MFA mentor says, "Every fiction writer is continually working on two stories: the intended story and the story on the page." Ultimately, the only thing keeping these stories from being one is the words we choose in the telling. The only point of contact we have with our reader is the words we put on the page; therefore those words must not only be “right.” They must be precise, exact. Otherwise, the reader will not understand our ideas, no matter how clever we think they are.

Work out your salvation with fear and trembling, but not your novel (or poem, or essay, or short story).

When I was reviewing manuscripts for The Texas Review, there were two particular things in a story that would turn me off quicker than anything. The first was a narrative voice that lacked confidence. The second was a story that was poorly imagined. At the heart of both of these flaws, I think, is a basic lack of courage. In the voice or the action or both, there is no gusto, no “umph.”

Why? Is the author unsure of himself? And if he’s unsure of himself, why should I read the story he has to tell me?

It has been said that writers are the prophets of their age. But no matter how ambitious or important the themes you are dealing with, or how original you think the concept, if your execution is weak, the story fails. This is not a job for the timid. Write boldly. Don’t just tap a reader on his shoulder; grab him by the lapels and drag him to the next page.
Judge, and let yourself also be judged.

Literary criticism: it is blessed to both give and to receive.

If you have no idea what I mean by "literary criticism," try taking a modern literature class at the local junior college. Or read every book review you come across in literary journals or newspapers. (Real book reviews, mind you. Not just those shining endorsements you find on author sites or some other outlet that is trying to sell you a product.)

Develop a palate that can identify the flavors and textures of great literature. Then open up your own writing for this same kind of scrutiny by begging every college professor or editor you know to read something of yours. If possible, form a critique group made up of you and three or four people who are more experienced in reading and writing than yourself.

Not necessarily blessed are you, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against your manuscript?

Okay. Say you’ve written a story that deals with some controversial issue, and it’s just not selling. Well, join the club! Ninety to ninety-five percent of works submitted to publishing houses and literary magazines are never taken, whether they are controversial or not. Don’t assume your story is not being picked up because of some political or religious bias on the part of the editor. Not only is this unlikely, it’s also a harmful delusion that is keeping you from moving forward with your work. A good writer can overcome any religious or political prejudice in a reasonable reader, if only for the few moments that reader is in the author’s world. And there are few readers out there who are more reasonable than editors.

So if you’re sending out your work, and you keep getting rejections and negative feedback, please do not take heart. Do not dig in your heels and reject all edits on the belief that you are standing on your principles. Change something and make your position more convincing. Make your story more believable. And remember, while the argument, “I’m just a misunderstood artist,” may hold in abstract painting, it doesn’t mean a thing in literature. As a writer, it is your job to make yourself understood.

To every thing there is a reason. . . .

Causation matters. The sphere of a novel is a very small world, and there is little if any room for the random. Most of us have heard the saying that if a gun shows up in the first act of a play, it must go off in the second act. In the same way, if your character’s flashback to the second grade Halloween party doesn’t lead to some dramatic significance later in the story, it doesn’t belong. It doesn’t matter how vivid the scene, or how many hours you spent writing and revising it. It especially does not matter how much you like it. If it does not contribute to the overall dramatic arc, it will hurt your story.

Sometimes as writers, our best friend and our savior is the delete key, if we will only use it. If a section offends your story, cut it out. Isn’t it better to lose one part of your novel than for the whole thing to be forever condemned to the rejection pile?

And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations, but your writing can only testify to one reader at a time.

In writing, we often tend to think of “readers.” Plural. Perhaps it’s wishful thinking, because we want as many people to read our work as possible. But it’s important to realize that, no matter how many sales you have, each time your book is read, it will be read by the lonely, solitary reader.

E. B. White once wrote "Advice to young writers who want to get ahead without any annoying delays: don't write about Man, write about a man." In the same way, don’t target your work to Man, but to a man (or woman, or child). Keep in mind that your work will be a one-way dialogue between you and a single reader. Keep the tone as personal and down to earth as possible and allow your reader to feel you are there with him. Conversational confessions will trump preachy proclamations every time.

And these five remain: Style, Theme, Setting, Plot, Character. But the greatest of these is Character.

It may be an oversimplification of a very complex art, but every story I can think of has at least these five basic elements. Setting, obviously, is both the when and where the story takes place. Plot is the “what?”, as in what happens. Style amounts to how a writer tells his story. Theme is the “why?”—the philosophical, social, or spiritual reason this story is important. And Character is obviously the “who” upon which the events of the story turn.

Why is the “who” the most important facet to a reader? One way to look at it is this, your characters (even if non-human) are persons. Your story will never be read by a literary style, or some abstract theme. Your book will not be bought by a physical location or series of events. Your story can only be received by another person, and so it is only natural that this personal reader will most closely associate with the “who” of the story.

Give extra care to the development of your characters. Make sure they have both flesh and spirit by delving deep into their sensory and emotional perspectives and responses. Give them multi-layered lives: professional, personal, and private. And ask yourself honestly if your characters are actual persons or mere props you are manipulating and maneuvering to carry out your plot?

Bio:

Christopher Fisher is a writer and editor for the Office of International Criminal Justice Press. His fiction, essays, and satire have appeared in The Wittenburg Door, Infuze Magazine, Crime and Justice International, and The Sam Houston State Review. His personal essay, “Scars,” won the editor’s choice award for nonfiction in Relief: A Quarterly Christian Expression and was recently reprinted in the 4th Edition of The Longwood Guide to Writing. His humorous short story “The Priest of Exit 53” was nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and his story “Tattletale”--published in the Thou Shalt Not… horror anthology--received an honorable mention in The Year’s Best Fantasy and Horror. He holds an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Southern Maine and blogs Wednesdays at The Master’s Artist (http://aratus.typepad.com/tma/).