Fiction & Nonfiction: A Surprising Connection

One of my good friends, the very same man who recorded the audiobook for Tiny Instruments, Phil Mayes, inspired me to write this post. In addition to his audio work, Phil is the co-author of two wonderful self-help books, Secrets of a Successful Relationship Revealed and How Two: Have a Successful Relationship. Despite an obvious gift with the word, he told me, “I’ve tried writing fiction, but I couldn’t do it.”

I’ve heard this kind of thing before, and I understand where it's coming from... but I disagree. I’ll say this unequivocally: anyone who can write about their own personal experiences in an interesting, informative way is more than capable of writing fiction. It’s all in the mindset!

Personally, from an editing standpoint, I see little difference between fiction and nonfiction. Nonfiction is more than informative writing based on facts - if it is going to be good, it still needs to elicit emotion! That means variation in sentence-structure, and that means conflict. Think about it this way: at the end of a self-help book, if you don’t feel empowered to change something in your life, there was something wrong.

Simply put, nonfiction is telling what happened, what you were feeling and what you were thinking to provide insight into experiences or modes of thought. (Or, in the case of biography, what happened to your subject, what they felt or what they believed.) In nonfiction, characters or ideas are already made. All you have to do is be truthful.

Fiction, on the other hand, is telling what would happen and how you, as your character, would feel or think in a certain situation.

Notice I didn’t say, “you or your character”, but rather, “you [AS] your character”. To understand and empathize with someone, all we can do is imagine what it would be like for us to be in their shoes. It is the same with writing someone. Should I choose to, my empathy allows me, as a white male, to bring insight to the life of a young black girl in the deep south. Whether the story is written in third or first person, while I’m writing about that human being, I am a young black girl because she acts in the way I would if people looked down on me. She speaks in the way I would if I had her background. She feels pain and joy in the same way that I would if I were her - because I am her.

And so here lies the connection. Not everything in fiction is make believe. Characters are as real as can be within the confines of their own individual worlds. They find their basis in emotional and psychological truths. To make the switch to fiction, all one has to do is imagine a situation, and write things the way they are.

On Over-Description

A few days ago, I received a message, via Twitter, about a serious problem that writers often face. I decided to use this week’s blog post as an opportunity to answer it it. The message was as follows--

"People have told me that I over-describe in my writing. They say it’s intrusive. Do you mind doing a post on how not to overdo description? I read your post on interior monologue and a lot of that applies too, but I think I have followed those guidelines, and yet, there is still a problem."

-Kunal

Dear Kunal,

Over-description is something a lot of authors struggle with. It’s important here to understand the root causes of the problem. You can describe A LOT without it being an issue with your readers. Here’s an example, “Clouds of mist rose from rusted sewer grates in the cool night, and John, without any idea why, began, once again, to think of Carol.” There is absolutely no problem with this sentence because it doesn’t interfere with the reader’s imagination. It’s only when you try to control the minds of your readers that you are accused of over-description. If you follow the tips below, you might find that this kind of feedback simply disappears.

Don’t Describe Your Characters Too Specifically

People like to imagine that their characters are like themselves or the people they know. If you say too much, you can rob them of that illusion early on.

Read the following, painful segment: “Jane, 5’6”, entered the room, flicking her lengthy brown hair. Her long legs drew the attention of several men as she strutted in wearing the faux-leather boots her mother bought her last Christmas. The twenty-five year old was wearing also, a custom made pink top, and a short pink skirt to match.”

If you look close enough, the content isn’t awful. We actually get a decent feel for who Jane is. We understand her cockiness, and we get a good sense of what she looks like… but what we gain in clarity we lose in the ability to fill Jane in with our own minds. Jane couldn’t be like Beth, the girl you spent hours dreaming about in Russian class. Jane is Jane. Period. That’s it. Door closed.

Here is the segment re-written with less definite descriptions: “Jane flicked her hair as she entered the room, and for a moment, it seemed that the only sound for miles was the tap of slender boots as she made her way across the floor. She didn’t look at the people around her, but down, at her shirt, to make sure it properly accentuated her breasts.”

Let’s take a moment and look at what I DID NOT describe:

Her height

Her hair color

Her hair length

The type of boots she is wearing

Her age

Her outfit

et cetera…

et cetera...

Despite all these “missing” descriptions, in only two sentences, we have a far better understanding of who Jane is as a person.

Side Note: In my novel, Tiny Instruments, which is over 85,000 words long, the only definite description I attributed to Timothy was that he had “flaky brown hair”. That’s it.

Don’t Force Description

In the first example above, “The twenty-five year old” was blatantly forced. It was as if the author, me, felt the information needed to get across, and just did the best he could…

To be honest, no description “needs” to be there. There is no reason we, the readers, need to know any specific details of a character. If it doesn’t come across naturally, don’t include it.

This piece of advice still applies to description. As I said in my post on interior monologue, if a character is running away from a clown zombie, it doesn’t really matter how eerie the wind sounds as it blows through the trees! If description distracts, it doesn’t belong!

Sneak Descriptions In!

So, how do you write description without it distracting? Sneak it in!

“Grasping the cold iron, he attempted to pull himself up, away from the thing that clawed at his legs… but his arms were shaky, and sometimes, no matter how hard we fight, the darkness still wins.”

Here, “cold iron” isn’t remotely distracting.

Here’s another example:

“Supporting her limp arm, she walked across the street to her car.”

This one might be more obvious because you’re looking for it, but, ordinarily, it would be a perfectly fine way to get across the fact that she has a limp arm.

Here’s another example:

“His long fingers slid under her shirt as his breath, hot against her skin, snaked its way around her neck. She looked at him with wide eyes, but she wanted him so badly, she couldn’t tell him to stop.”

Other than the realization that I could write pornographic novels if I chose to do so, I hope you picked up on the well-placed descriptions. In all three examples, the description was able to be snuck into a scene of ACTION! Remember, there are few things more boring than description in the place of action.

If You Must Describe, Don’t Do It All At Once

This is what it sounds like. If you believe that a setting or a character warrants specifics, that scene or character will probably be around for a long time. There’s no rush. Take your time.

Pick A Few Key Things To Describe

If a character walks into a room, you don’t need to describe everything in the room - just a few key items for us to get a feel of what the room is like. It’s no different from the description of Jane above. Give our minds the outline, and let us color it in!

View Passing Settings Like Minor Characters

If you go out of your way to describe a character that is only present for three pages and is never seen again, you’re wasting your time. Most people are familiar with this concept, so I wonder why people don’t translate it to settings. I’ve seen several pages devoted to describe alleys and fields that were briefly present and never seen again.

--Less Is More--

I’d like to end with a story about the longest chapter of my novel.

When I was first writing Tiny Instruments, I used to read each chapter to my writing group. I had grown accustomed to useful tips and suggestions from the excellent writers that fill those tables, but never before or since have I learned more than when I read the first draft one of the most well-known segments I have ever written: The Ladder and the Wall.

Despite giving out tons of advice on writing descriptions, I included several logistical descriptions about how the artificial being, TC5, managed to push a ladder off the top of a shed onto the other side of a wall. It felt like they were important. After all, didn’t the readers need to know how far away the wall was from the shed? Wasn’t it important that Timothy used his right hand to climb up onto the shed and not his left? If I didn’t include it, people might accuse me of not knowing these important details, and lord knows, I do FAR too much planning to tolerate that nonsense!

When I concluded, I received a fair amount of praise for the conclusion of that chapter - but one of the authors whom I respect the most, Steve, told me something I’ll never forget. “I loved the chapter, Mitchell,” he said, “but you’re killing my imagination. It’s enough for you to know the details of how something works. Be careful. The more you analyze something, the more you invite readers to look for errors in what you’ve written.”

Pay special attention to that last line: “The more you analyze something, the more you invite readers to look for errors …” After that reading, I went straight home, and whipped that chapter into shape. I realized that I'd wanted so badly for readers NOT to question the logistics of what I’d written, that I'd not only “killed [Steve’s] imagination”, I broke the cardinal rule: for God’s sake, don’t ever interrupt the action!

Two Types Of Stories

There are many types of stories, and many different genres for stories to fit into… yet, as long-time readers of my blog know, I’m not a huge fan of writing for a genre. Genre writing can feel like a cage, and I want to write what I feel without worrying if the science fiction, fantasy or romance communities will accept my book when I’m done. That said, there are two distinctions among story types that I DO find immensely helpful. For those looking to begin a new work, simply knowing which of the two you want it to be can help guide your writing forward.

--The Idea Story--

An idea story, simply, is a story that is centered around a premise. It is the classic “what if” story.

What if a man who was raised in the jungle is brought into civilized society?

Tarzan/George of the Jungle

What if a travel journalist winds up on an island where every inhabitant is just an inch tall?

Gulliver’s Travels

What if a man creates a living being from the parts of dead people?

Frankenstein

What if a completely normal boy finds out that he is an important figure in another world, and is brought to a school of witchcraft and wizardry?

Harry Potter

One can often begin these kinds of stories without a clear character in mind. The circumstances of the plot will drive the person forward - and that allows us to figure out their personalities based on how they respond to the various stimuli around them. As the story progresses, their individuality begins to shine through.

If we can identify something as an idea story, that doesn’t mean it can’t contain good characters. It only means that the scenario of the story is the thing that initially brings readers into the story. Wouldn’t you want to see how a military assassin might get on, completely out of place, in a small town in Mississippi? Why not?

--The Character Story--

Character stories are important because of their insight into human psychology. They thrive when we, the readers, see mirrors of our own inner joys and sorrows. They are also extremely hard to explain as “what if” stories.

If you were forced to describe Catcher in the Rye as a “what if” story, how might you go about it?

Perhaps: "What if, after being expelled, a boy decides that, instead of coming home, he would like to meander around a town, smoking and drinking as he ponders the complexities of human existence?"

It becomes painfully obvious when phrased like this, that this kind of story has no innate goal.

Tarzan must conquer his inner animal so he can conquer Jane’s heart. Harry Potter must survive in a completely different world, despite the fact that evil beings constantly seek his destruction. What must Holden Caulfield do? Really, he has two choices - both of them deceptively simple. The first is to remain away from his family. The second is to face his parents and his sister Phoebe.

The storyline of Catcher in the Rye doesn’t depend on any kind of action. It lies in Holden’s ability to come to terms with himself - to either fully convince himself that his way of living is just, or accept his failures as his own and move on.

Here are a few character stories for your consideration:

To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf

Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh

Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov

Ulysses by James Joyce

There are, of course, events that happen in character stories that move the plot forward - but they are oftentimes more abstract. The Great Gatsby for example, really only has three direct plot points: when Gatsby and Daisy meet again for the first time, when Daisy hits someone with Gatsby’s car and when Gatsby is murdered.

Everything else is emotional drama - such as when we, the readers, find out that Daisy Buchanan lied about her relationship with Tom Buchanan, and that, despite everything she’s said, she still loves him. In this moment, the plot has not directly moved forward. Gatsby’s actions have not changed. He still stands by Daisy - and yet, our emotions HAVE changed. We feel for Gatsby when he hears this news. We weep for the beautiful man that, despite everything, still only wants to make Daisy’s life better.

--A Brief Note on Hybrids--

There are no hybrids. Yes, there are idea stories that have complex characters, but there is a fundamental difference between these two types of stories. They are opposites in a way. My novel, Tiny Instruments, takes place in a complex Sci-Fi world, but human weakness and strength is what moves the plot forward. There are occasionally driving forces in the plot (as there are in any plot), but the focus always returns to the mind of Timothy Cottard and his own inability to understand humanity (and whether or not he is a part of it). Lord of the Rings is an idea story. Despite complex characters, it is the need to stop Sauron and destroy the ring of power that gives value to everything the characters do.

--Why it Matters--

Knowing what kind of story you have allows you to figure out WHAT TO FOCUS ON in your writing.

If I were going to write the opening chapters of a book about Jamangi, the board game that forces people to play and risk their lives until it’s over, I would give only the most rudimentary character information. Just enough to get a sense of who this person is - and then I would go bring in the board game. Even if I only give 4 pages of setup before I introduce the game, that’s probably just fine. I would set up the events to bring out the different sides of the characters.

If I were going to write a book that focuses on the tendency of people to undervalue their family, I would create a character and put her in a situation that allows her to figure those tendencies out for herself, and hopefully, to overcome them.

So... which type is your story?