2 - Working On Description - Written In Stone





I guess I can blame the love I have for descriptive pros on Charles Dickens. I read the man from an early age and fell in love with his London. In any of his works one can see the characters right down to the last detail. The stench in the backstreets and the sights and sounds of the River Thames fill the senses as you read such novels as Oliver Twist, Hard Times, and David Copperfield.

For some while now, I have developed a habit of setting a scene at the start of a chapter in the hope that my reader will see the location within which my characters move around and interact with each other. I find it easy to slip into a character's mind and capture thoughts and feelings once I can see them in that envirionment.

Below I have taken an opening from Written In Stone, in the editing stage - and the finished product below it for comparison. In this scene we are introduced to the main hero of the piece, a savy Irishman. He is on his way to work and through his eyes I see the London as it is today, and through his mind I tell the reader what I think about the city.

Notice how the editor's phrases are a suggestion, not a command. You will normally find thaty you either want to keep the word/s highlighted or you will find a better word yourself. Sometimes you change the whole sentence. However, when the editor finds a passive sentence you should deal with it.

First, here is a note from the editor on the same chapter.

I’ve gone back and had a look at my comments just to make sure I wasn’t raising points for the sake of it. But I think generally if you do the work I suggest you’ll find that Enda will really grow on the page and that’ll make the story not just good but terrific. I know it is frustrating but you’ll find that in time you’ll just think about the things I’m raising as you go along and it’ll be second nature. That’s when the red ink will fade.

I’m also really conscious of not wanting you to become a clone of me…..so while I suggest alternative wording I really want you to put those ideas into your own words. Writing is a hard craft to learn and only a few have what it takes to keep being persistent at honing your craft.

Have you read Story by Robert McKee….he applies the principles of storytelling to screen and novel writing.

You did notice that I left some pages and long passages alone. The reason for this? I can’t fault them which tells me there is an excellent story teller in you.

The thing is….and I used to do it myself,…. sometimes it is easy to have to characters throw words at each other and we expect the reader to see what we are seeing in our minds as we write. The thing is the reader doesn’t. The reader needs help to see what you, as the writer, is seeing. I think we fall into the trap because we’ve been trained by television which gives the visuals to the audio track. In a novel, the writer has to provide the sound track, the visuals, the smells, and what’s going on inside a character as well.

I keep a check on it by asking as I go through: who, what, why, where and how. I guess you’re familiar with that. If one of those is missing for me the writer then it will definitely be missing for the reader.

My blackberry rang (had rung) (avoid passive phrases) as I drove around Parliament Square in pouring rain but I ignored it. If anyone wanted Enda Osin he wasn’t available until he’d drunk two cups of tea, especially at 6 am on a dark autumnal morning. (this is good because you’ve introduced Enda in the opeing para and we get a sense of who he is because of how he handles the call – very good) 

       Black clouds threatened (were threatening) (again this is a passive construction – avoid) a day of half dawn as my car joined a long queue of bright taillights choking up London’s city center. Feeling in need of company, I  (where you couple ideas take the best one and delete the other tightens the sentence) dialed for messages. Anything was better than studying the structural landscape around me and the blinking red lights ahead? (just a thought). 

        The area was an architectural nightmare. Old and new buildings, some weathered and covered in grime, others covered in tinted glass, rose up in nearby (whenever you can go for simple language) to create a confused skyline of tower buildings and stumpy historic domes (or something). On a sunny day, shadows cast by the taller creations stretched over commuters (I don’t think the shadows of buildings move) shrinking and growing with the sun’s movement, never disappearing. I loved the old and admired the new but couldn’t get used to this hotchpotch. That day they looked forlorn, huddled  in blocks and sandwiched between hissing city streets. An army of black umbrellas joggled for space, as crowds hurried along the pavements and along dark passages between the buildings  (in all directions is padding so delete) , Each was heading for an obscure (are they all obscure? Is this the right word?) office.

 

My blackberry rang as I drove around Parliament Square in pouring rain but I ignored it. If anyone wanted Enda Osin he wasn’t available until he’d drunk two cups of tea, especially at 6 am on a dark autumnal morning.

       Black clouds threatened a day of half dawn as my car joined a long queue of bright taillights choking up London’s city center. Feeling in need of company, I dialed for messages. Anything was better than studying the structural landscape or chaotic traffic around me. 

        The area was an architectural nightmare. Old and new buildings, some weathered and covered in grime, others covered in tinted glass, rose up to create a confused skyline of historic masonry and vacant office blocks. On a sunny day, shadows cast by the taller creations cast a mantle of darkness over all below, shrinking and growing but never disappearing. I loved the old and admired the new but couldn’t get used to this hotchpotch. That day they looked forlorn huddled in blocks sandwiched between hissing city streets. A sea of black umbrellas joggled for space as crowds hurried along the pavements and down dark passages between the buildings. Each was heading for a boring job in some big business or government office.

3 - to follow. Hanging Participles and Adverbs. In two weeks.