sholio: bear raising paw and text that says "hi" (Bear)
Sholio ([personal profile] sholio) wrote2019-12-03 04:32 pm

Leaning into your premise

Just FYI, my latest book as Zoe, Dancer Dragon, is out on Amazon now.

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There's something I've been thinking about lately, after some conversations with [personal profile] rachelmanija about ... well, it didn't even start out about writing at all; it was just that she was looking for books set in circuses and observing how few books with circuses in the title and/or on the cover are actually ABOUT CIRCUSES. And then we got to talking about it, and now I'm seeing examples everywhere of books (and movies, TV shows, etc) that promise to be about something interesting and then disappoint because they don't lean in. There's a circus on the cover, but only one chapter is set there, or the whole book is set there but it might as well be anywhere because they never really do circusy things.

It's intriguing to me how often books/movies do this, and how I've never actually seen this (as such) in any advice I've ever read -- lean into your premise, your setting, whatever's unique about your characters. Use it. I guess it's sort of a Chekhov's gun kind of thing (that everything in the book should serve an eventual purpose) but it's not exactly that. It's more like, if you're going to put ghosts in your book, why not use them to do uniquely ghosty things rather than just floating onstage for their one moment? If your protagonist is a con artist, she shouldn't solve problems like a normal law-abiding person would! I think a number of the works of fiction that have disappointed me have done it because, on some level, they were failing to do this. I can remember being annoyed, for example, with books that tell you about somewhere fascinating the characters might go, but never actually take you there.

(Insert obligatory disclaimer that it also depends on what an individual finds interesting; some people will be there for the detailed descriptions of dressmaking and some really wish you'd skip the dresses and get straight to the murder, etc.)

But honestly, even if it's not something the reader is actually into, I think that writing it so that it fills the page makes it interesting. I could not have cared less about either sailing or the Napoleonic Wars, but Patrick O'Brian's books are wall-to-wall both of those things, and they actually make me care about page after page of nautical terminology and blow-by-blow descriptions of battles, because he cares. You can practically feel the creaking of the deck under your feet.

... And you know, like anything else, not everything interesting has to appear on the page; maybe being stuck somewhere the protagonist finds dull is the plot. But I mean, even there, the reader shouldn't be bored, reading it; the dullness of the setting should fill the page until it becomes fascinating, like the vivid grayness of Dorothy's Kansas. The issue is when, as a reader, you find yourself thinking, "Why did you even tell me about that interesting thing if you weren't going to show it?"

To be fair, Dancer Dragon probably could lean in a lot more than it does. If readers are reading it for detailed descriptions of ballroom dancing they're probably going to be disappointed. On the other hand, there's definitely dancing in it; it's just really more of a thing the plot wraps around than the main plot. There's also the problem that what I know about ballroom dancing could fill a very small thimble with room left over.

I got some negative reviews on the first book in the series, Bearista, because it didn't have enough coffee shop in it! I mean, you wouldn't think coffee shops are something that people reading a romance novel would really care about, but they actually did; the premise promised a big dude working in a coffee shop, but we actually only got a couple chapters of that before Plot Happened and he ended up exiting stage right pursued by bears (literally). In retrospect I think the book those readers wanted to read would have been a fascinating book, and maybe I should write that book eventually.

Anyway, I don't really have a point here so much as ... I don't think this should be treated as any kind of a hard-and-fast rule, but it's another tool in the toolkit for editing and tightening a flabby plot. If your story feels flat, maybe you need to lean into the premise a bit more.

[personal profile] indywind 2019-12-04 03:04 pm (UTC)(link)
Soooo much this.

I have a really big competence kink, but, most centrally, it's not just for stories proclaiming or even showing that Character Is Super Competent At Thing. Rather, it's for storytelling that reveals the great depth of knowledge and intense familiarity about Thing that the competent character necessarily has in order to be competent. And so the writer must have at least a significant fraction of the knowledge and or fascination with the topic, in order to portray it convincingly and make it interesting and relevant to the audience.

Failure to lean in to the premise is one failure state (my guess is half the time failure to lean in happens, it's because writer had an idea they thought would be cool but not enough personal knowledge to fill it out, nor enough personal fascination to build the knowledge just for the story). And fumbling the lean-in is another failure state that happens when the author has more fascination/enthusiasm than actual expertise or discernment about what parts are relevant. So they infodump detail that's not relevant -- stuff that an expert immersed in the Thing wouldn't even notice or care about, let alone a reader approaching it cold -- or they give only attention-getting details without sufficient context to show why, apart from sensationalism, they're interesting and relevant (and may misconstrue/misrepresent or actually get details flat wrong enough to aggravate readers with some expertise. (Why I'm leery of much 'historical' fiction especially romance, why I despair of writing realistic modern paramilitary-flavored action-adventure)). In either case -- failing to lean in, or leaning in but fumbling it, the 'good bits' end up feeling shallow and pasted-on rather than integral to the characters or the plot... because basically they were.




cahn: (Default)

[personal profile] cahn 2019-12-04 05:57 pm (UTC)(link)
OH! Reading your comment elucidated for me why I bounced hard off Kowal's Calculating Stars, where I never got the "knowledge and intense familiarity," as you say, that I would have expected of the heroine.

stuff that an expert immersed in the Thing wouldn't even notice or care about

Heh, I've had conversations about this about writing grant proposals -- when one is writing a proposal about something one doesn't know much about, it's a hard thing to get right and a fairly big tell that one doesn't know much about it.

[personal profile] indywind 2019-12-04 06:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Ha ha grant proposals. My dayjob is administrative support for scientists at a research university, including editing grant proposals--mostly copyediting, sometimes more substantive. Proposal writers have such a hard task, in that they have to address multiple audiences with differing needs/expectations and levels of expertise (often the reviewers who will judge technical validity and feasibility are subject-area specialists completely separate from the nonspecialists or even non-scientists who will judge cost effectiveness, broader impacts, application to the funding org's mission and whether they want to fund it), and they have to address the 2 distinct audiences within one coherent document with a strict page limit. It's a tightrope walk, to be sure.


For fiction that hits my particular competence kink, I feel like exploration/discovery/sense of wonder, fish-out-of-water or learning/growth situations give an opportunity to write the depth of detail (and highlight one character's familiarity/competence in contrast to another's) in a way that can feel more integrated to the story. But an author has to be willing for at least one major character to be, hmm not sure how to put it, ?unfinished? un-self-possessed? enough to not only notice things but to show on the page thoughts and feelings about them and so model for the reader how to think and feel about those details when they're interesting and relevant.