“How was school today, honey?” said Mom, thinking about the Anderson file.

o       Problem: How does the speaker know that Mom is thinking about the Anderson file? In that one point we switch out of the narrator’s head and into Mom’s head, which is none of our business. It’s jarring.

o       Fix:  Half the time these switches are unnecessary. Either stay with your narrator, or rework the scene so that the character’s thought would be evident to an outside observer.

o       I dropped my backpack on the floor. Wow, it had been a tough day. As I entered the kitchen, I was so glad to be home that I even hugged Thomasina.

 “How was school today, honey?” said Mom as she picked up a big folder labeled ANDERSON.

• #2: Along similar lines, writers can switch out of a character’s head just by giving them a different name.
  • Marielle scarcely heard him, however. The girl couldn’t stop trembling. 

·        Problem:  This is a story mostly told from Marielle’s point of view. If that’s what’s happening, the narrative voice should only refer to her as “Marielle” or “she.” Renaming her as “the girl” pulls us out of her brain, her point of view, to look at her from the outside.

·        Rationale & Fix: Writers do this to avoid overusing names or “she,” I know, but I would rather have “Marielle” ten times in a paragraph than “the girl” outside her point of view.

·        Marielle scarcely heard him, however; she couldn’t stop trembling. 

• Another thing that keeps me from identifying with the characters is if I’m not experiencing their emotions for myself.

§         #3: Telling emotion outright.

·        After my dachshund, the Pipster, died, I felt so sad.

·        Well, duh.

·        Problem:  This is the most common show-not-tell problem.  I think it happens usually because writers are thinking so much about their characters and so much in their emotional states themselves that they forget to establish that emotional state for the reader.  

·        Fix:  Lots of possibilities here. Sometimes you just cut. Other times you can show the emotion through action.

o       After the Pipster died, I curled up on my bed with my other dachshunds, the Squeakster, the Yapster, and Long John Silver, who licked the tears from my face with their tiny scratchy tongues.

o       (Digression:  This example actually demonstrates another Rule of Disengagement, which is the writer’s being so pleased with her own cleverness that she doesn’t actually serve her point. I came up with the names the Pipster, the Squeakster, etc. for dachshunds and I liked them so much I was determined to use them—even though they actually distracted from the point I was trying to make about telling emotion. Don’t do this.)

§         #4: Sometimes the writer tries to signal the emotion with dialogue tags and just goes too far.

·        “I’m going to be late for school,” I whined. “Can’t you pack my lunch more quickly?”

“If you’d just gotten up on time, this wouldn’t be a problem,” Julianne snapped.

“Stop it, you two!” Mom ordered.

“Honey, have you seen my tie?” Dad bellowed from upstairs.

·        Rationale:  Hey, this is showing emotion, right? Also varies the use of “said.”

·        Problem:  Yes, but it forces the emotion on the reader with almost physical force—and as, they’re all extreme emotions, the conversation is exhausting.

·        Also, the emotion is perfectly evident from what is being said—you don’t need the tag to reinforce that.

·        Fix:  Use dialogue tags only when justified by the extremity of the emotion. Otherwise, use “said” or other nonemotional tags.

·        “I’m going to be late for school,” I said. “Can’t you pack my lunch more quickly?”

“If you’d just gotten up on time, that wouldn’t be a problem,” Julianne snapped.

            “Stop it, you two!” Mom said.

            “Honey, have you seen my tie?” Dad bellowed from upstairs.

§         #5: Adverbs on dialogue tags

·        “Get in that submarine right now,” Rosellen said bossily.

·        Again, you don’t need the tag, because the emotion is perfectly evident from the statement.

• So these have all been cases where we’re in the protagonist’s head, but sometimes, frankly, we never get there at all.
  • #6: Unbelievable first-person voices
    • Suddenly my grandmother Barbara Wallace Finkelman appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing a mauve muumuu, neon-pink Jimmy Choo kitten heels, a white cashmere turban fastened with a gigantic marcasite brooch, and delicate frangipani perfume. As she tottered down the steps of her Cherry Creek mansion and swept me up in her fleshy, bangled arms, she cooed, “Well, aren’t you the cutest little six-year-old boy I’ve ever seen!”
    • Problem: The authorial need to tell or describe or set up gets in the way of who this character is and how he or she would actually speak. I am never going to believe in a six-year-old who talks like this unless you show me the really extraordinary circumstances that make him so.
    • Fix:  Rewrite from this character’s perspective or switch into third person.
  • #7:  Too much darn information
    • The writer is working too hard and not pacing the information properly or making it appropriate for the audience
    • Fix:  Cut!
    • Suddenly Davey’s grandmother appeared at the top of the stairs. She wore a mauve muumuu, neon-pink low-heeled shoes, a white cashmere turban fastened with a gigantic black-and-silver brooch, and delicate, flowery perfume. As she tottered down the steps and swept Davey up in her fleshy arms, she cooed, “Well, aren’t you the cutest little boy I’ve ever seen!”
  • Sometimes the voice and the information is fine, but heck, you just don’t like the character.
  • #7:  Whiny protagonists without charm or truth
    • [first line:] Life is so boring, Jenny thought as she stared out the window. I hate it here. Why did we have to leave Cleveland to come to this little town in the middle of nowhere?
    • So she’s whiny and she’s not doing anything. Do you want to spend time with this character? Neither do I.

• Compare the beginning of Speak, though: “It is the first day of high school. I have seven new notebooks, a skirt I hate, and a stomachache.” Melinda can get away with being whiny because the voice is so specific and fresh and the beginning sets up mysteries, as we discussed.
• #8 Negative dialogue tags for positive characters.
  • “I’m going to be late for school,” I whined. “Can’t you pack my lunch more quickly?”
  • Problem:  I don’t like whiners. Therefore I dislike this kid.
  • Fix #1:  “I’m going to be late for school,” I said. “Can’t you pack my lunch more quickly?”
  • Fix #2 (better):  “I’m going to be late for school,” I said. “Can I help you with my lunch?”
    • The character is taking positive action, which gives us more reason to like her. (In this example she also sounds a little bit like a goody-two-shoes, which is off-putting, but you get the idea.)

• And then sometimes you like the characters, you’re in their heads—you just don’t believe in their lives.
  • #9:  Narration vs. dramatization
    • Narration:  After Billy and Laurel talked a little bit about the basketball game and her plans for the next day, he kissed her. Laurel felt really happy.
    • This is sort of the show-not-tell problem writ across not just one line or one feeling, but the whole scene.
    • This is probably a big moment in the book, a turning point in the characters’ relationship, and it just feels dead.
    • Dramatization:  “That was a great last shot you made,” Billy said as they entered the restaurant. Laurel felt as if everyone instantly turned to look at them—the ostrich and the kiwi bird, they must be thinking.

She ducked her head. “Thanks.”

“I guess you have practice again tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

“Will it be easier since you won?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

 “Hey.” He stopped and she looked at him inquisitively. “Here.” And he leaned up on his toes and kissed her. “There. That’s out of the way. Will you talk to me now, O Tall One?”

She smiled down at him. “Yeah, Shorty. Let’s have dinner.”

• Note:  I thought of the narration here and how I was going to dramatize it, and I thought, “All right, he has to lean down for the kiss”—and then it occurred to me how much more interesting it would be if she leans down and kisses him.
• And that actually created their characters, because a guy who would ask out a girl who’s taller than he is probably has a lot of confidence and energy, but the girl might be a little more self-conscious about it.
• #10:  Lack of subplot OR too many subplots
  • But as charming as Billy and Laurel are, and as intrigued as I am by the possibilities of their romance—if the only story in this novel was about their romance, it would be boring and unrealistic.
  • Real life is multistranded, even when you’re a kid:  You have parents, you have friends, you have a best friend, you have an enemy, you have the project you’re working on, you have the crush you think is cute. Books that have action in only one of these relationships feel flat.
  • This is far less common, but writers can also go to the other extreme and crowd the novel with so many characters and subplots that the reader feels bewildered and overloaded with information.
  • Fix:  Think through all the relationships in the novel and what each one is doing for your main character—what each one teaches him, how they force him or her to change and grow.
    • Do any of the functions the relationships serve duplicate each other—e.g., the main character’s best friend teaches her to look beyond surfaces, and so does her art teacher?
    • Consider counterpoint. Is the character’s relationship with his mother filled with conflict? Perhaps he needs a girlfriend who gives him peace and steadiness. If Billy ends up teaching Laurel to have more confidence in herself, then perhaps she needs to pass that lesson on to a kid she’s tutoring, with whom she already has confidence. Etc.
    • Add or cut plots as necessary.
      • (Spoken with the breeziness of an editor who doesn’t have to do the work!)

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