The Hard Parts

Mark Paxson

A few weeks ago, I saw a few writers on the Tweeter express that the beginning of a story is always the hardest part for them. I thought that was interesting because the beginning is the easiest part for me. By far.

I’m a pantser, so I don’t have an outline. I just have an idea that I think may make for a good story. I typically don’t have any idea about anything beyond the idea.

For instance, a guy has a consensual one-night stand and is accused of sexual assault. That’s the idea, but as I started to write it, I had no idea how it would end, or how I would get to the end. Or, a clerk at a store catches somebody shop lifting and offers him a deal to avoid the consequences. Same thing, an idea, but I had no idea where it would take me. As I started writing that story, I didn’t even know what the deal was.

Part of this is because my stories frequently begin with prompts that I find on the various writing websites. Prompts that spark something in me and I just start writing. If the idea seems like a long story, I can typically churn out 10,000 – 25,000 words relatively easy.

The way I describe this is at the beginning, the world is wide open for me. I can go anywhere, do anything. I am exploring the idea as I write and that is a freeing experience for me.

But once I get to a certain point, I start to see the rest of the story. I start to ponder an ending, and everything just suddenly stops. Those first 25,000 words may take a month or two. The next 25,000 words may take years as I struggle with a couple of things.

First, if I’ve figured out the rest of the story, won’t the reader also. And if that’s the case, what’s the point. I become bored with the idea because I now know how it is going to end and I’ve figured out most of the in between points that will get me there. The exploration ends and the slog begins.

Second, and contradictory, is this … what if I get it wrong? The piece I’m working on now could have many endings. I’ve considered a lot of different things and landed on one that may be too much for some readers. But, to me, it fits the whole feel of the story … which is weird and quirky and full of things that don’t really make sense. So, an ending that matches that is an ending worth pursuing.

But again … what if I get it wrong?

Everything slows down at this point. Putting words down slows to a crawl. I can sit in front of my laptop for an afternoon and be fortunate to pull 200-300 words out of my head. And I really start to let the distractions distract me because anything is better than sitting there and noodling over every single paragraph, every single bit of dialogue, every everything.

This doesn’t always happen. A couple of years ago, I published a novella. A domestic thriller of about 30,000 words. For some reason, I was able to write the thing completely within a couple of months. There was no stalling, no delay, it just all came out in an orderly fashion.

Oh sure, there was one point at which I decided I wanted to change the voice and started to go through that process and then changed my mind after going through the first 1/3 of the book. But beyond that, that novella just flowed out of me.

As near as I can tell the reason for this is that the story was a surprise story. One that I never knew was in me until it just showed up one day. I never really took that story too seriously. Not in the sense that I didn’t want to do a good job on it, but it was a bit of a lark to write it.

Here’s another thing, the more I write, the more complicated my story ideas become. That domestic thriller novella — a really simple, basic story. My first novel, the same. But the piece I’m working on now (may be a novella, may just barely reach the 50,000 word mark to be a novel) is more complicated. It is somewhat dystopian, a bit bizarre, in some respects it kind of creates a whole different world, and there are elements to it that I just need to make sure are consistent and complete and carry through the entire thing.

So, here are my questions for you…

What’s the hardest part of a story for you? What’s the easiest? When it comes to those hard parts, are there any strategies you follow to get over the hump, to get past the difficulty and ease into the better parts of the story?

Pick a Genre. Any Genre.

Mark Paxson

I spent a couple of days at Lake Tahoe this weekend. By myself. Which means I spent a lot of time in my head. On the drive home, I started thinking about our last video chat. At one point Lucinda Clarke commented during that chat that she had screwed up by writing in multiple genres. I responded that I had done the same thing.

A few days after that chat, I met a friend for luinch. I took him a copy of my latest book. Until this book, he hadn’t realized I wrote fiction. We had a lengthy discussion about books and writing. At one point, he asked me what genre I write in. There is no easy answer to that for me. My published works can be broken down this way:

Courtroom drama; young adult, coming of age; quirky, all dialogue oddball of a story; a novella that is the opposite of coming of age — a literary take on a life of loneliness and despair; and dozens of short stories that are all over the place.

My works in progress can be broken down this way:

Dystopian — I have three different WIPs that are variations on a dystopian future (one is a sexy space romp, one is a tale of a President who declares martial law and rules for years afterwards, destroying the country, and the third is something I actually can only dream about — a story told in reverse like the movie Memento). Then there are … a baseball novel; a collection of short stories that interconnet to produce a larger story (actually, I think I have two of these on the drawing board); And a few other things I’ve forgotten at the moment.

Genre? I don’t need no stinking genre!

But what I thought about this morning on the drive home was that maybe Lucinda was right. Maybe it’s a mistake to write stories that are all over the place. I got to thinking about people who might read my latest novel (the YA tale) who then would look at my other books, maybe even buy one, and then be disappointed that nothing else I’ve published is YA.

To some extent, I can’t help myself. This is just who I am. As I’ve said during our video chats, part of writing for me is exploring new ways to tell stories and new stories to tell. I simply don’t think I could have stuck with courtroom dramas for every story I wrote. It would be too stifling for me to stick with one genre — even if that novel was my most successful.

If I’m going to create, I want to keep creating. Which means, to me, spreading out into different genres, different voices, different stories. I guess what fascinates me the most about the art of writing is the ability to tell a story that people want to read. It’s not about the genre. It’s about an idea that comes to me and if it interests me, I’m going to pursue it, and see if I can write a story that is compelling enough and good enough that it gets readers’ attention.

But the question for this post is … in search of a reading audience, does that hurt me? As Lucinda suggested during the chat, does switching genres hamper a writer’s ability to attract and grow a consistent and loyal audience.

I think about when I first started blogging and there were all sorts of experts who counseled that a blog should be on a specific topic. Find a niche — whether it be cooking or traveling or writing or politics — and stick to it. That was the best way to grow an audience for a blog. Well, readers of my blog know that I did not follow that advice. Like my stories, my blog is all over the place. It represents everything in the world that fascinates me — music, politics, current events, cooking, gardening, exercise, writing, and whatever moves me on a day that I decide to write a blog post.

Maybe it’s time to write the next chapter of that courtroom drama. 😉 Maybe not. Because here’s the thing. After I finished that novel, I thought of two more books I could write about the main character, because that’s what mattered the most about that story. Not that it was a courtroom drama. No. What mattered was the characters and I had two ideas for more misadventures that would befall good ol’ Jack McGee. But even Jack couldn’t keep me interested and I ditched those two ideas and moved on to other stories, newer characters. (I’m struggling with the same dynamic with my most recent novel.)

So … let me ask again. Writers and readers out there … should a writer stick with a particular genre or two? Or should a writer write whatever the hell he or she wants and take a chance with each new product? What do you do? Stick with one genre? Go all over the place? What’s your motivation — because at the end of the day, that’s the ultimate reason for what each of us do.

Does Fiction Need To Make A Point?

Mark Paxson

One of my proudest achievements was doing so well on the college English placement test that I got to bypass English in college. Yes, my last English class was in 12th grade. I never took a class in the English Department in college. And I have a brother and father who both majored in English.

Why was I so thrilled about this? Because I hated English classes. The writing part was bad enough — I thought I was a horrible writer and hated it back then. But what was even worse was the need to analyze poems and short stories and try to identify the author’s point. Why did they write the story or poem? What did they mean when they used this phrase? Why do you think they picked the color red for the door? Blah, blah, blah. All I know is that whenever a teacher would ask that question, I wanted to stand up and scream, “Why? Because they just wanted to write a story!!! Why isn’t the answer that they just wanted to write a story?!?”

I’ve never really understand the need to identify the “why” of fiction. I read for enjoyment, entertainment, and escape. I don’t read fiction for any deep understanding of the writer’s objectives or of the human condition. I just want a story that pulls me along and keeps me turning the page.

I just finished a book. It’s a thriller. I completed it because I wanted to see how catastrophe would be averted, but it was a struggle. Why? Because the author clearly uses his fiction to spread his view that Jesus Christ is his savior and that Christianity is the light and the way of the world. There were points in the story where the need to proselytize came up in ways that were just completely ridiculous. Like when the CIA agent was racing to prevent the imminent launch of a nuclear weapon that would have killed millions, but he had to stop and spread the word to a colleague who had been injured. I seriously don’t need that when I’m reading fiction.

When I started writing, I remember having a brief conversation with another writer. She insisted that every story has a point. I’ve heard this from others as well, and I just don’t get it. 99% of the stories I’ve written have been about me coming up with an idea for a story and seeing if I could get it done. That’s the only point to my fiction.

There is one exception to this. My second novel had a point, but it proved to hit a little too close to home and I de-published the novel. Other than that, I just want to see if I can write a story. Each and every time I begin a piece, that’s my only objective. That’s the only point. There are no messages, hidden or apparent.

This is not meant to be a criticism of those who seek to use fictioni to make a point, to serve a purpose. Fiction certainly can be a wonderful way to deliver a message to the reading audience. But … does it need to? Does there need to be an inner meaning in everything we write?

Do you have objectives when you write? Are there messages you want to deliver with your fiction or poetry? Do you look for things like that in fiction you read? Fic

Let’s Talk Description

Something I’ve worried about a lot with my writing is that I don’t include enough description. Of people. Of settings. Of all sorts of things. I recently re-read my first novel to get some ideas for some follow-up short stories and was surprised at how much description was in the book.

These days it seems like I don’t include much. I just want to tell the story. Leave the details to the imagination of the reader.

What got me thinking about writing a post about this was a realization I had for my recently completed novel. There are three main characters. The narrative is in first person and switches back and forth between those three characters — Lily, Sophie, and Pete. My realization? That I don’t think anywhere in the 80,000 words of this story do I describe what they look like.

Oh, there are little tidbits here and there. We know Sophie is in a wheel chair because she was paralized in an accident when she was five. But beyond that? I really don’t know. I don’t share the details of how they look Hair color. Body type. The size of their noses. Or the color of their eyes. They just are. Three people occupying space in this story that takes them through three years of their lives.

When it comes to setting, I think I use more description, but still it remains pretty minimal. Fireflies dancing in the yard. Ambulance lights flashing in the night. The rocky shore of the Great Sacandaga. Things like that. But the thing is, generally that minimal description fits within the flow of the story. Or at least I hope it does.

There are a couple of reasons I use minimal description. I go back to the Mendocino Coast Writers Conference I attended a few years ago (where the first two chapters of this novel were what I submitted for critique in the group sessions I participated in). One of the writers in that group kept criticizing other people’s works because they didn’t explain this, or describe that, or reveal something else. Each time she offered that criticism, I wanted to stand up and say, “that is what your imagination is for.” I don’t think good writing involves revealing every last detail or every single element of the characters and their story. A good story includes some mystery, some gaps that the reader fills in with his or her imagination.

In writing, I’m also informed by my own reading habits. I tend to skim over description. Particularly when it goes on for lines and lines and lines. That kind of description, to me, pulls the reader out of the story. When I read books that include that kind of description, I may skip chunks of the text until I see something that suggests the story is picking up again.

As I mention above, I think it important that writers try to include description within the flow of the story. Instead of stopping the story to tell us every last detail of how somebody looks or what is in a room, ask yourself, “what is the narrator seeing? what is the narrator feeling?” Answer those questions with something that fits within the flow of the story. The articles listed below have some good examples of both doing this and not doing it.

A few months ago, I participate in a writing prompt exercise with a group of other writers. One of the other writers wrote a scene with some of her characters walking along a forest and meadow near the ocean. She dropped in small descriptors within the flow of the story based on what the characters were seeing, what they were going through as they walked, rather than setting off the description of the area in a paragraph that broke up the flow of the scene. I think that’s how to go about description.

And don’t be afraid, never be afraid, of leaving things to the reader’s imagination. Yes, somebody will complain that there isn’t enough description. But if you include more, somebody else will complain that there is too much description. As with most of these concepts and “rules,” it really depends on the writer and the reader. Each of us is different. But be aware of the issue and try to find the sweet spot.

Now, I need to go back to that “completed” novel and ponder whether I included enough description. I think I did — it’s the story that is far more important than the description.

What do you think? Description? Yay or nay?

* * * * *

A couple of other views on the topic:

https://www.helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com/common-writing-mistakes-much-description/

https://www.helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com/common-writing-mistakes-much-description/

https://www.scribophile.com/blog/too-much-description-or-too-little

Advice I Should Have Listened To

Early on in my 15+ year journey as a writer I received two pieces of advice that I ignored. I should have listened a little closer and tried a little harder to follow these two pearls of wisdom. I offer them here for you to consider. As with any advice, rules, or conventions of writing, do with it what you will. Nothing is set in stone. We all must forge our own path in how we approach our creative efforts.

When I graduated from law school, I got a job as an administrative hearing officer. I wrote a lot of decisions and orders for the next four years. Every decision was reviewed by two people, one of whom read for the quality of the writing. A few years after I left that job, I started writing fiction. I kept in touch with Jeanne, the woman who served as the editor back then. When I told her about my fiction efforts, Jeanne offered me advice as I started to tell her about what I was working on.

“Don’t do it. Don’t talk to people about what you’re writing.” I ignored her and I shouldn’t have. It’s an odd thing. If you write novels, you generally are committing to the life of a hermit with your idea and your work. For months, and in some cases years, you toil away without any real encouragement or endorsement of what you are doing.

It’s one of the challenges of being a writer. You spend so much time working in silence without confirmation of the value of what you’re doing. It can lead to major doubt which can lead to major writer’s block which can lead to losing all of your hair.

Here’s what I noticed though when I started telling people about what I was working on. A couple of things happened. First, the pressure to produce something people liked grew considerably. Second, the idea of the story lost its luster. I think it was the second aspect that Jeanne was mostly concerned about. And I find it to be true.

Once I tell somebody what the story is, or what my idea is, I all too frequently start to experience problems with my writing. I … just … lose interest. Once the secret is out, it just doesn’t seem as exciting anymore.

I should have listened to Jeanne way back when. I’m going to follow her advice from now on. As much as possible, I’m not sharing with people what I’m working on until it’s done. So … I can tell you that I have a project I’m going to pursue for 2021. It’s an ambitious one. But I ain’t telling you a thing more about it.

The second piece of advice I received right around the same time. After I finished One Night in Bridgeport, I had all sorts of ideas for what I wanted to do next. I started something, and then more ideas kept popping into my head.

I asked my dad (who is also a writer) how he decided what to work on. His advice was essentially to pick something and see it to its end before starting another project. “You may never finish anything if you don’t,” is the paraphrase of his final thought on the topic.

Dad is a very wise man and I should have listened to him. As my ideas developed into more complicated stories and I found hurdles in my way, I would shift from one story to another. And years later, I have at least a half dozen half-completed, half-baked novels that sit on my computer and taunt me.

In the last year, I have managed to finish a couple of things. The Irrepairable Past and The Dime. But there are those other stories that continue to intrigue me and I keep trying to push open the door on one of them. When nothing happens, I consider one of the others. It has become this vicious cycle. Too many works in progress and no idea which one I should pursue first.

Add to this that bits and pieces of all of these stories have been shared on my blog and … yes, Jeanne was right … that seems to cause part of the problem with getting back to each of these projects. So, I keep cycling through them and pondering which one to pick up.

I do know this. I finished Irrepairable and The Dime because I committed myself to it. The idea that I was going to finish them no matter what, and focus exclusively on each story until I was able to type “The End.”

This is now what I’m doing. I’m combining the advice of those much wiser than me. I have a project that I’m committed to for 2021. I will not be diverted from it until it is done. And I’m not going to tell you think more about it.

What advice related to writing have you received over the years that you followed? What advice did you fail to follow that you wish you had? What advice would you give to writers?