Tag Archives: writing

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Thinking about the hook

I’m not spending much time on the beginning of my story just now, but I was thinking about this thing called ‘the hook’. It’s that bit of the story near the beginning, let’s say the first chapter, that draws the reader in and could make the difference between a sale and being dropped into the slush pile. When I hear other writers talk about it (or see them write about it), it puts me in mind of some epic event like those stupid extreme marriage proposals where a guy is arrested whilst jumping from a space-plane tied in chains or something. I’ve come to the conclusion, as a thoroughly amateur writer, that the typical advice falls ludicrously short of the mark. The typical advice being: “You need a good hook, it really needs to grab the reader.”

Here’s what I think: The beginning of the story just needs to to have enough conflict to be interesting, that is, pose some problem for the character that makes the reader wonder what happens next. I don’t think it even matters what that conflict is, though it should probably be relevant to the story as a whole. What’s really important in the hook is having something that is instantly engaging. A lot of the most enjoyable books I’ve read start with something like a conversational tone. It’s light and feels vaguely like those times when you’re having a few drinks with friends and telling stories. The sort of thing where you might say: “Oh, man, there was this time we were out hiking, and Steve saw this squirrel, and you wouldn’t believe what it was dragging around…” There’s always a lead-up in those stories, often heading to a punchline, but I would argue it’s the same for a book, except that you’re aiming for a climax, not a punchline. The point here is that it’s more in the telling than the actual events, though those are important too.

 

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Is this thing done?

Not my story, I’m still drafting big pieces of it. I was just thinking about this because I just read a blog post from Patricia C. Wrede (http://pcwrede.com/writing-is-like-weather/). A point she seems to make in there is: Don’t sweat the small stuff. I like it, but made me question part of my process. I often go back to previous chapters to make sure characters and events are consistent. Often, when I do this, I revise what I’ve got there, sometimes dramatically. So, how do I know that it’s good enough for now? Well, I have no idea. The answer to the question is this thing done? for me, and I expect most writers, is NO. That applies to each sentence, paragraph, and chapter.

I try not to focus on looking for problems or things that don’t work so well, unless I’m making a specific effort to revise based on feedback or changes I’ve made to the story. This seems to work fairly well. If the prose is bad, I’ll be forced to stop and fix things as I go along. Occasionally, I’ll find myself being drawn into my own story, as if it were a favourite read rather than something I’m actively working on. These are the rare points where I decide it’s ‘good enough.’ It doesn’t mean that I’m calling it done, just that it’s good enough for now, and I can think about on other stuff.

I think the point of this rubber-ducking exercise is to remind myself to focus on the big picture right now. I can always go back and fix the technical bits of my story whenever, and as many times as I like.

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Managing my writing ego

Managing my own ego is hands down the toughest part of writing. I want desperately to finish my story, and also, eventually, share it. However, in order to do that, I’ve actually got to write a story that doesn’t suck. The mechanics have to be decent, and the story itself needs to make sense and be compelling. In my mind, my story is a best seller. In reality, it’s an amateur hack, and if I’m super lucky some of my friends might read it all the way through. With that little reality check in mind, it’s only only my ego that keeps me going. Unfortunately, that ego is also a major roadblock because it gets in the way of taking advice. It’s hard to accept that what you’ve done doesn’t work, even when you know you need to listen to advice.

It’s easy to say: “Well you just don’t understand what I’m trying to do,” in response to advice that’s difficult. Particularly when it brings problems to light that would require major changes to plot or characters. Sometimes, though, the knee-jerk reaction is “Darn, now I’ve got to trash all of this work, I really like because it doesn’t work.” In truth, both of these are extremes, even when there’s truth in the reactions. It’s made more complicated when you have very supportive friends or family who encourage you to keep work they just told you was bad. At those times, who do you listen to – the bold self-assured ego, the the overly critical ‘throw it all away’ ego, or the supportive friend who insists you just need to rework a few things?

I can’t say I have  solution. Ego is a double edged sword, I both need it to proceed, and also keep me inside reality. All I know is that I have to make a focused effort to accept all advice and assume that even if it’s off base it’s pointing to a real problem and I need to understand the root of the issue and resolve it.