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Written by Elizabeth Genco
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Tuesday, 20 September 2005 |
Elizabeth Genco shares her thoughts on why writers must be readers.
A favorite topic at comics message boards across the land is, "It's Wednesday, what'd you get?" I've been leafing through such threads for a long time, and I must be honest -- the sheer number of books that folks buy and read every week floors me. S'like, wow. Someone remind me that we're in a slump, here.
As comics fans, we blaze through books like they’re going to spontaneously combust before we get to the end. Most of the single issue comics (22 pages, for those here who aren't familiar with the form) that I read these days take no more than, oh, 7 minutes for the once-over. Manga? Well, reading an entire 200 page book in the time that it takes me to ride from Court Street to 49th on the R train isn't unheard of. I sometimes have visions of folks laying tummy down on their beds (that's the best way to read comics, see), inhaling pages in a frantic haze of "enough is never enough", then throwing the finished books to the side in a frenzy to get on with the next thing.
So when I come over here to talk, yet again (for this is one of the most clichéd writing topics in all of writing topic-dom) about how important reading is, I can't even remotely insinuate that my audience doesn't read. Comics people (and SFF people, for that matter) read, by cracky. As a budding writer, you don't need me or anyone else to remind you that reading is fundamental. But there may be something you are forgetting, so I'll remind you of that.
Are you reading like a writer?
Reading like a writer is fundamental.
If you're one of those comics inhaler dudes, that's cool. Inhaling comics is fun. But if you're going to inhale comics, let me humbly suggest that you double back with a fine-toothed comb the second time around. Especially if they're good.
Why on earth would you bother? Well, stories are yummy, for one. Perhaps even better than ice cream cones (she admits, with some reluctance). More to the point, they contain all of the secrets to good writing. Yep, every last one. As a writer, one of the magic powers you develop over time is how to tease them out of there. It's really not hard, once you know what to look for and get the hang of it. (Making the magic yourself, well, that's another story. I'll get back to you on my deathbed -- maybe I'll have figured it out by then.)
Having said that, I'll get right to the main two orders of business: my suggestions on what you should read and my take on how to read like a writer.
First and foremost, read the stuff that you want to write. Lots of it. If you don't have a lot of time, be selective. Seek out the big guys -- the most successful stuff, using your own personal definition of success -- and read (or re-read) those. Instead of speed reading, try analyzing the work according to the suggestions I'm going to give you in a minute. The goal here is to uncover the magic -- to figure out how the heck the author did that. It'll take more time, sure, but it's time well-spent. Everything you need to know about writing is right there in the stories in front of you; finding it and identifying it is part of your training.
Second, read the stuff that you don't want to write, but still enjoy. In addition to reading genres that you have no interest in writing, try reading "outside the medium" as well. If you're a comics writer, read some prose. If you're a short story writer, read some novels. Reading (and trying one's hand at) things like poetry and short-short (or "flash") fiction will benefit any writer. All forms have certain strengths that can be transferred to other forms (the economy of language inherent in poetry, for example, would benefit just about anyone), or you can help keep your piece fresh by injecting it with something unexpected to its particular medium.
Study your markets. Yes, this is universal advice, but, tell me true, now -- how many of you actually do it? To hear the editors tell it, scads of pitches and manuscripts get rejected right off the cuff simply because the writer submitted their work to the wrong publication. A little research saves you time, not to mention embarrassment and wasted postage. (And if you really want to blow them away, try reading the writing of the publication's editors.)
With that reading material firmly in hand, how to get it to give up its secrets? Start by slowing down. Give it a read-through or a re-read, slowly and carefully. The book isn't going to run away from you, so take the time to really lose yourself in the story.
Once you've read the piece through once (or have given it a deliberate re-reading), time to get the notepad out. Try to sum up the entire story in a few sentences -- let's say 150 words or less. Yes, Virginia, you're cheating if you do this in your head -- actually write it down. It doesn't matter if it's a one-shot or a novella or an epic -- the essence of the thing can be pared down to its essentials. You'll step back and examine the story at a very high level, and -- whaddayaknow -- it's really great practice for summarizing your own stories for pitching and the like (and we know what a daunting task that is).
Next, it's time to really roll up your sleeves and get to work. Go back through the book and create your own outline. For each chapter, write a couple of sentences to summarize, then a sentence for each scene. You can do more than that if you want to -- whatever works. The goal is to have another high-level look at the work, this time studying each component of the narrative individually. If you want to jot down notes on characters and settings and such, knock yourself out. But the important thing here is uncovering the work's structure. Great stories turn around their structure, but it can be hard to see amid the layers and layers on top. By outlining someone else's work, you can strip those layers away and study what's really holding the story up.
Now that you've got those innards exposed, it's time to ask yourself some questions. This process can take you anywhere. I'll leave it up to you to come up with the good questions, but here are a few that work well for me:
- Does this story follow traditional 3-act structure? If so, where do each of the acts start? If not, what and where are the story's turning points?
- What do the characters want?
- What are the conflicts?
- How do the characters and conflicts dance with each other?
- Trace the line of cause and effect throughout the story. How does the author "set up" each of the payoffs?
- What's the setting? What bearing does it have on the story?
- If there's a twist, how'd the author do it? What expectations were set up and then turned on their heads? What did the author do to make you fall for it? If it didn't work for you, what gave it away?
- Does the story "work"? Why or why not?
- Does the story's effectiveness come from style or story? If stylistic strengths outweigh the narrative strengths, how does the author keep me engaged regardless? (It does happen!)
Just the tip of the iceberg, those questions. You'll undoubtedly come up with more on your own.
Lastly, re-read the best of the lot. You'll pick up more and more each time.
Elizabeth Genco will be at SPX next weekend, with Leland Purvis and copies of her latest works, WEIRD SISTER and PORTRAITS OF 22 KEYS. Stop by her table and say hello.
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