It seems, dear blogsters, that I'm all blogged out. I have no interesting topic. My dh said I could rant about the horrid writing in the books I purchased for him for Father's Day. Wow, big help. It only made me feel bad about giving him such a sucky series of books.
Well, I've given in and I'm going to blog about that subject after-all. Here's the first three paragraphs from the first book in the series...
It had rained all night, thunderclouds rolling in from the Blue Ridge Mountains, dark and boiling with power as they met the moisture from the sea. Lightning and heavy rain pounded the night, then suddenly stopped as daylight drew near. The first line of storms moved off to the Chesapeake Bay and lingered over the sea, caught between the rising sun and the musky coastline behind. The rain wasn't over. What was already the wettest spring in a century had much more to give.
The day dawned cold and dreary. Another band of dark clouds gathered in the morning light, moving in from the west, blowing over the hill that lifted on the horizon. Heavy mist hung in the air until the weak morning breeze finally carried it away.
The grass around the freshly dug grave was wet and long, with tiny drops of moisture glistening from the tips of each blade. The pile of dirt next to the grave was dark and rich, loamy with many years of rotting vegetation and now rain-soaked and wet...
"ACK!!!! "I'm going to kill myself!" This is what my husband said after reading those first three paragraphs of the novel I gave him. I laughed at his frustration. Not believing it could be as bad as he described. But you just read what he had to endure, and it really is awful. Nothing like a weather report to start out the ol' novel, eh?
Where was the editor for this author? How does stuff like this get published?
Just as I think I've finally gotten my dh hooked on fiction, this happens! ARGH! It's so frustrating because I paid good money for all three of these books and the author is allowed to tell the story instead of show it. Even my dh, who's had no training in how to write a novel, recognized what a disaster the opening "hook" was for this book. Diligent little reader that he's becoming, he trudged on through the Prologue and he's now on chapter three. I'm so disappointed for him. I was really hopeful when I picked out these books. The back covers promised big, but the actual writing has failed the reader. My dh says the story is a good concept, but even he doesn't want to be told the story.
So, my point, I guess, is this...
You can not fool the reader. Not even a reader who really isn't much into fiction. The reader knows when they're not a part of the action in the story and it literally hurts their brain to read a story like that.
In my opinion, those first three paragraphs could have been summed up into one or two sentences. Even this would have been more tolerable...
"It was a dark and stormy night." LOL Okay, just kidding. But you get my point, right?
May you all show your stories with great emotion and flair, and may you all get quoted for the awesome writing you'll do, and not because you gave a weather report.
I have no writing exercise for you. I have no real questions, either. Have a great Monday. I'm off to do wash and take kids to the orthodontist. Please feel free to discuss any topic of interest to you in the comments section, or, ignore this post altogether and wait for tomorrow's big news from Wavy. :)
24 comments:
That's exactly why I don't read literary stuff! LOL I find if boring. They try to create long winded, descriptive sentences and totally lose the reader in their long diatribes.
Your heart may not have been in the blog, but it was a good one. Now we know what NOT to write! LOL
I'm not a fan of the over flowery stuff and find it particularly odious when it goes on and on like and I feel as though I need hip waders to slog my way through the first page.
In this case, I don't mind the first paragraph too much except for the boiling thunderclouds. Roiling, yes, boiling? Doesn't work for me. And I think the second paragraph is largely unnecessary. Change boiling to roiling, go straight to paragraph three, reword to get rid of at least one pesky "was" (Tiny drops of moisture glistened from the tips of each shaggy blade of grass around the freshly dug grave) or something like that, and I don't think it's that bad. I like to be introduced to location and atmosphere.
Of course, all that said, a lot depends on what followed in paragraph four.
So that's my take, but I can be argued away from it, I just like to look at things from different angles and Becky and paty covered the over the side quite thoroughly!
Alice
Though I like the author's style and engaging images he/she invokes, it's not a passage I would have picked to start a novel. I'm not compelled to turn the page, yet I know there's an emotional event coming up, which intrigues me. It's all a matter of taste. The writing is good, I can say that. But for commercial fiction, it may be misplaced in the story.
The subtle setting of atmosphere is something I'd place further along in a story. It's the pause that refreshes. 8^) It's the wind up for a punch of trilling action. That's how I use it, anyway. But not all writers think the same way.
Description can be powerful, but it kind of depends on what you're describing. The last paragraph I wrote about fifteen minutes ago for this almost-finished novella (I have an excuse... I'm at my daughter's apartment in Eugene taking care of her after she had unexpected, and major, surgery. She's doing very well, by the way) describes the villain, who's about to threaten the heroine's life.
A man stood at the top of the stairs, his white-blond hair tossled like a dozen cowlicks, his blue eyes blazing to appear almost luminescent in the dim twilight. He wasn't as tall as Liam, but there was some resemblance in how he set his jaw and cocked his head at a haughty angle. He looked rumpled as though having worn the same dirty jeans and t-shirt for several days in a row. Judging from the dark circles beneath his eyes, he hadn't slept during that time, either. He seemed edgy, his left leg shaking with pent-up energy.
I wouldn't start a novel with this paragraph, though a description of a person works better than that of weather, IMO. Still, without emotional investment in the characters and without knowing what their goals are, it's hard to take a vested interest in a storm.
If I started reading that book, Piper, I wouldn't give up yet. But I wouldn't give it many more pages to pique my interest, either.
Great paragraph, Karen. I agree, descriptions deeper in a story evoke emotion and give insight into place and character and time and setting. But up front it isn't always necessary. That was something it took me a long time to learn. I like description in a book as long as it isn't overwhelming, and as a writer, I had to learn that in order for descriptions to move a story forward, they have to be tied to a character somehow. Who cares what the scenery looks like if it doesn't somehow impact the POV character? What's the point of knowing how wet or dreary it is unless there's a point.
Like Alice, the first paragraph of Piper's example doesn't bother me so much, I think the second is redundant and the third is iffy...esp. the fact we know the freshly dug grave was wet, and yet at the end it's now rain-soaked and wet. Huh? Didn't the author already tell us that???? All in all though, I wouldn't start a book with this description, there's nothing grounding me in the scene making me want to read on. Now, if this were on the second page after a character's already been introduced and we're seeing it through his/her eyes, that's another matter entirely.
And because Karen was brave enough to use an example from her novella, I'll add one from my wip.
She peered into a maze of snow. The windshield wipers barely kept the flakes from the glass, and the headlights glared back at her in a field of white that looked oddly like flocking on the branches of a Christmas tree. The rhythmic slap of the wipers against glass threatened to hypnotize her, and her eyes grew heavy with each passing minute.
Okay, not as eloquently written as the "dark and stormy night" example, but we see the setting through the heroine's eyes and know what's she's experiencing.
Great post, Piper! Now I want to see everyone else's examples of a paragraph of description.
Here's the quickest one I could find.
Description from Outlaw in Petticoats.
Maeve couldn’t ease the clench in her gut as the horse’s hooves clomped on the packed dirt street of The Dalles. She’d never been to such a large town. Buildings of varying sizes made out of wood, stone, and brick spread along the river and up the hill. The bustle around the train depot alone represented a day of activity in Sumter.
The street sported many saloons. She edged her horse closer to Zeke’s. The traffic and people pressed around like an undertow of water. Most of the men and women wore city clothes. They looked proper. Rubbing her sweaty palms on her dusty riding skirt, Maeve wanted to hide.
Very visual, Eli! I love your example. The character is in a contemplative state of mind, so we know something intense just happened, or is about to. And we know the conditions of the setting. Car, snow, and she could be heading someplace since headlights illuminate the flakes that are falling, so there could be some sense of danger from the conditions, depending on what came before or after this description. Point is, it serves a purpose more than setting. Every scene should accomplish a variety of storytelling objectives, IMO.
Paty, I like yours, too! Though I can't tell what's the cause of Maeve's clenched gut, I see through her eyes where she is and have a sense of that moment in time. Perhaps crowds of people make her nervous. The next paragraph would probably tell us more.
Great blog, Piper!
I'm going to add a paragraph of description just to prove to myself that I'm not too chicken to do it. This is from the book I submitted a few weeks ago, Avenging Angel:
Night came, and with it, the beach camp achieved a level of exotic romanticism totally wasted on the group at hand. Though expensive food and wine were served at round tables set up near the water, each on its own woven mat, flanked by its own flaming torches, the guests ate in a kind of somber wariness. Perhaps the armed men patrolling the beach and head of the trail, flashlights making wide arcs in the pristine darkness provided the off note. At any rate, though things looked right to Elle, they didn't feel right.
Anyway, I loved reading your passage, Karen, and yours, Eli, and I hope other people will give a descriptive paragraph, as well.
Alice
Oh, Paty, I see you blogged with a description while I tried to make italics (I failed) I love that description. I'm willing to find out why she's tense!
Alice
Great, Alice! Elle is obviously anxious and I can see why. We see what's going on and feel the wary energy of the guests, the automatic sense of caution evoked by soldiers on patrol. Very nice.
I can sure tell Karen, Eli, and Alice write suspense! Great paragraphs.
Okay, my take:
The first three paragraphs of Piper's example could be summed up into one. I'd start the hook with the sentence about the grass near the grave, that's a nice sentence.(And assuming the grave is part of the inciting incident). Maybe briefly pan up to the sky. Then get on with it.
It's rainy. Boiling. Wet. Who cares?
So, after those flippant remarks, do I dare post one of my own descriptive passages?
Yeah, okay, what the heck:
Patches of foggy clouds roll back over the sun and the sea changes from aqua, to murky green, to serious grey. Again, the waves appear churned and stirred. As if by a giant, angry hand.
Or maybe a huge, monstrous paw.
Ridiculous. Where did that thought come from? Slowing down, I enter the middle turn lane before crossing traffic through the mist to enter the Roseland Daily News parking lot. I skirt a big, dark-colored dog that lopes out of nowhere.
If I believed in deja-vu, I'd be shivering with it right now.
One of my original hooks started out something like this. It got dumped onto page 22. It's hard to effectively start a story with weather.
And I enjoyed everyone else's examples. Thanks for the courage it took to post them.
And Piper, great blog for having, as you put it, no topic!
Wow, you girls took off with this one! Great examples of descriptive writing, and I noticed that each one of your passages had a person in it in some way.
The example I gave on the blog had nothing but earthly elements. Boring. The reason each of your examples work and make people want to press forth is because there are people and feelings in them. The book my dh is reading doesn't get into people for a full page after that passage I gave you. Then, when people do show up, it starts in about a six-man color guard and their uniforms and wet blades of grass. LOL More wetness!
It's just not good form to start out a story with a weather report unless someone is being affected by that hurley-burley weather for crap sakes. :)
I really loved all your examples, girls. Well done.
Though expensive food and wine were served at round tables set up near the water, each on its own woven mat, flanked by its own flaming torches, the guests ate in a kind of somber wariness.
OMG. Alice. Did you go to Ixtapa with me on vacation last summer? Because you just totally described the small hotel we stayed at. I think we sat in this very same beach restaurant and ate dinner. I specifically remember taking my shoes off and digging my toes in the sand as our over-priced dinners were served and Federales with machine guns strolled along the water's edge as dusk transitioned into night.
Danita - loved your example. The description seen through the heroine's eyes gives us a feeling for the mood of the book. Nicely done!
Paty, your example definitely sets teh scene. I can see the town and feel your character's anxiety. Though I do have to laugh...who would have ever thought of The Dalles as a big city?! LOL
Danita--I don't know how you consistently and so perfectly do that first person, present tense voice. It amazes me! Your description was spooky!!!
Eli--I can't believe the beach you were at is so like mine! This is the book that takes place in Mexico, so I guess I don't have such a good imagination afterall. My situation was a catered affair on a remote beach with everything shipped in for the occasion and it wasn't romantic for the heroine, at least for awhile, so I can't use your toes digging into the sand--drat, love that image.
Piper--I like starting out with people, too, not weather reports. I have read some neat beginnings though, where the weather played a huge role and loved them, so I guess I'm open--it just better get moving soon after or else (I put the book down...)
Piper, fun blog. Maybe we need to do non topics more often ... though the truth is you gave us a lot to think about and Karen provided a fun addition that just required some pasting instead of time consuming original writing. Hey, how about you post a descriptive paragraph from a wip??? I'll check back later, hoping ---
Alice
(Warning... This is a really long comment!)
Okay, I'll put myself out here, but only because I know I can count on all of you to be KIND and HELPFUL. LOL
This is the closest thing I could find to a description of anything in my writing. Obviously I need to work on that. I have so much dialogue when I write, that I guess I should go back through and fill in more details. Sheesh!
So here's my piece. Please tear it apart and help it in any way you all see fit.
I'm off to throw-up and then make dinner for my family as I'll be too nervous to eat now that I've put my writing here for you all to see. Did I mention I hate writing and I'm going to quit? LOL Just kidding. I need to grow and learn and put myself out there more. Thanks for asking Alice. (Thanks a whole damn lot!) :)
This bit is from the middle of chapter one...
He glanced up at the desk near the bed. There sat the liberator. The precious panacea. The sweet brown liquid that would ease all his ills. Surely opium was a gift from the gods.
Stephen’s hands shook; he reached out and popped the cork on the small glass vile. Pangs of conscience tried to break the rhythm of the familiar waltz Stephen danced at his own private ball. He placed the bottle to his lips; the magic elixir slide down his throat; the pangs were soon swept from the party and escorted out.
Nothing compared to this portable ecstasy. Life’s miseries couldn’t touch him when he indulged in this cure-all. He’d become an absolute nothing because of opium, but when high his cares were naught.
It was when the effects wore off that life was misery. That’s when the demons swooped down upon him and wrack his soul with torment. The evil spirits paraded the images of twisted bodies lying scattered across the land, as if someone had paved the road to hell with them. Red rivulets of blood oozed from beneath the dismembered corpses into one body of black, sticky fluid soaking into the ground. The putrid reek of moldering human remains indelibly imprinted in his olfactory. Time passed and their faces became a blur; but their pitiful entreaties for help as they lay dying on battlefields still tortured him. Opium helped to rid his mind of those memories, of the soldiers that clung to life on the godforsaken battlefields with their wretched cries for help.
Stephen finished off the liquid and lay down to sleep. Maybe this time it would be dreamless. That would be nice.
Okay, that's it. Thanks for any advice you want to give. :)
Well written, Piper! Your descriptions made me nauseous. And I might have nightmares tonight!
Oh Paty! Thank you for the compliments!
So I really made you nauseous and nightmarish? Woo Hoo! This is how I feel about posting my writing for all of you to read. Yep, nauseous and nightmarish hits it right on the nose. LOL
Piper--Thanks for sharing! Wow, lots of vivid images, colorful images, sad images.
I was just watching a History Channel show on drugs. It spoke about morphine and the Civil War. Doctors carried three instruments. A saw for bones, wire cutters for tendons and--oops, I forgot what for muscles. The point is, a good doctor was a fast doctor because the pain was unbearable. Then came morphine, and with that pain reliever came TIME. Time gave the doctor the opportunity to do more than hack and saw. But it brought its own problems.
I felt for your young man and wondered if this addiction of his started in an innocent (or heroic) way--leaving him a victim of his time and injuries.
Thanks for sharing!!!
Good job.
Alice
Thanks Alice, and yes, he's a doctor. Not practicing now, mind you. Not until the little heroine comes into his life and rocks his world. ;)
My story is starting to take shape, but I have a ton of work ahead of me with research and just finishing a first rough draft of the thing. It's all good though because I'm learning so much along the way.
Alice, sorry, my comment about the hero being a doctor didn't really sum up why he's now addicted to opium, did it? LOL
He was a doctor on the battlefields, and as you said about the show you watched, medicine was rudimentary, very crude, if you will. He couldn't save everyone and being in a hellish state such as the long ago battles you can imagine how hard that could be on someones mind. Someone who has such high expectations of himself and feels that he failed in his tour of duty. I hope I can take this subject and make it interesting for readers, if not, at least I'll have learned how to research properly and finish a manuscript so I can move on. :) It's all good baby, it's all good. LOL
Piper -- Interesting. So he starts taking opium or what have you as an emotional way to get away from pain? Or is he injured himself?
Sounds great. I bet you'll enjoy the research.
Alice
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