Becoming Familiar with Your Genre

I went to the San Francisco Writers’ Conference this past weekend and had a great time.  Picked up some new useful tips, met some other writers, and got an invite to send the first three chapters of my book to an agent on my wish-list when it’s ready.  So I am super stoked!  I ran into a guy there, fairly young, who had written a fantasy novel.  I think just finishing a manuscript from beginning to end is deserving of praise.  But what threw me off is though he’d written a fantasy novel, he’d never read one.

 My head exploded a little.  Is it possible to write a good genre book without reading the genre?  I’m sure it is.  Is it probable?  Not really.

 Without reading the genre you’re writing, how do you even know if your book fits there on the shelf?  You don’t know what people are buying, or what things have been done before – to death (*cough* vampires *cough*).  Yes, you can have a fresh new take, but how do you even know if your take is fresh if you haven’t read its precursors?

 Usually people do this the other way around – they read a genre they enjoy and then decide to have their own go at it.

 So here’s a suggestion, one that’s worked well for me.  Read a lot of books in the genre you’re writing in.  Take notes on the things you really liked and things that you didn’t think worked.  When you go to write your own novel, you’ll have a list of things that you may want to include in your own book, and things you want to avoid.

Here’s a snippet of my notes from Brent Weeks’ Night Angel Trilogy:

-Legendary characters that other characters hear about then actually pop up in person later -Keep making situations worse and worse – how is the character going to get out of this?  Then think of a way to get the character out. -Bargains made earlier that come back to haunt -Rising sense of dread that the characters can’t pin down, then follow-up with the reveal

Writing that Multi-tasks

I started watching Breaking Bad recently, and just finished the fourth episode.  I love it so far.  The writing is fantastic, and the premise is compelling (the moral degradation of a cancer-stricken high school chemistry teacher as he begins cooking meth in order to provide for his family). There was a line of dialogue in the episode I watched last night that made me think about efficiency in writing, and making your writing multi-task.

Jesse Pinkman, meth dealer and addict, ends up back at his parents’ house.  His younger brother, Jake, is a sweet, very intelligent kid, about 10-12.  They’re in Jake’s room, talking, when their mother walks in to check on them, and makes a point of leaving the door open.  Jesse is incensed at being treated like a criminal (which he is…), and makes the comment to his younger brother that their mom doesn’t want him influencing their “favorite son” (Jake).

Jake replies, “I’m the favorite?  Yeah right.  You’re practically all they ever talk about.”

I loved this line of dialogue, because it said volumes in only a few sentences. It does multiple things at once.  Jesse’s parents worry incessantly about him, and Jesse is oblivious to this (or, perhaps, can’t face how intensely his actions have influenced others).  Jake, despite his numerous accomplishments and straight-edge appearance, doesn’t feel like the favored son.  He feels some jealousy over the amount of attention focused on Jesse, the screw-up.  Because of this one line of dialogue, we understand, much more clearly, the dynamic of the Pinkman family.

It sets up the next scene perfectly, wherein (**SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER**) Jesse’s parents kick him out of the house for the umpteenth time because they find a joint hidden in his room.  It’s not Jesse’s.  It’s Jake’s.  The revelation surprised me, though not in a throw-the-book-across-the-room manner.  It made sense.

Although we get a lot more space to explain things in a novel than in a television show, efficient writing helps speed the reader along and doesn’t bog them down in overly wordy prose.

What if Breaking Bad were a novel?  The author could have shown Jesse’s parents talking about him worriedly.  Or perhaps even told the reader that Jake was envious of Jesse.  But neither of these methods performs more than one function.  And neither, I’m guessing, would blow the reader away.

The way we interact with the world and with other people is shaded in layers – layers influenced by our past experiences, personalities, mood, surroundings, and our expectations.  Efficient writing exposes more than one layer at once, though not in an as-you-know-bob-way.  It does so subtly, reflecting the way people actually interact with the world and each other.

Aerin and Danae, in progress

In progress painting of two of the four children in Windrider, the book I'm planning on working on starting March.  I've written a couple snippets and am working on the outline, but I expect to start the rough draft in earnest once I've finished the rough draft of my untitled urban fantasy.  This is Aerin and Danae, twin sisters, born fourteen minutes apart.