How do you write a story?
Scene by scene.
It’s kind of like laying bricks,
until you have a sturdy house no wolf can blow down.
I know this – I preach this.
If you examine my novels, you will see I practice this.
Why, then, have I had such a hard time doing this in my latest novel?
I think it’s the time frame.
My preceding novels take place over a short span of time. Months.
My latest novel covers forty years.
How can I write forty years scene by scene? What kind of epic will this be?
These are the questions which have immobilized me.
Even now, when I’ve painstakingly created scenes for most of the first 100 pages (taking it bird by bird, as Anne Lamott advises) I somehow felt obliged to make a blanket statement of thought to introduce main character.
Read this book, if you haven't.
If you have, read it again.
On Friday, I presented my opening to a panel of three agents at a literary conference at The New School. I really thought they’d like it.
Here’s the very beginning:
She loved them all, Luna realized.
And why not?
There lay in every man something to love – no matter how cold, brutal, unforgiving he could be. There was always a fragment. A trace. perhaps left from his youth, before the ice settled. Luna had honed in on the positive at once. Every time.
Agent #1: “There’s no sense of place.” (Agents 2 & 3 nod.)
Me, in my head: “You ninny! I’m introducing the character.”
Me, out loud: “She’s in bed with a guy. I bring that in shortly.”
Agent #1: “You need to bring in now. I want to see that man in her bed.” (Agents 2 & 3 nod.)
Me, in my head: “Can’t you see that this writing is compelling? What reader wouldn’t want to read more? I’ve poured out my soul here! You can’t wait a page to see the guy laying there? Talk about needing instant gratification!”
Me, out loud: “So you want me to set the scene first, then delve into the main character?”
Agent #1: “Yes.” (Agents 2 & 3 nod.)
I smiled and thanked them, but inside I was seething. Still, I wrote notes about what they’d said.
And then, as I was going over my words for the umpteenth time, something strange happened.
I decided to try in their way.
It was this calming feeling.
It was surrender.
Not to the agents – but to the process.
To the basic tenet of writing that requires scene by scene writing.
I knew that, dang it all!
And just like that, the idea came to me: What if Luna is talking to the guy while he’s sleeping?
And I got excited.
And I knew I had something.
Here’s my new opening:
Kneeling beside her bed, Luna gazed at M’s wrinkly eyelids. They looked like elephant skin, except they weren’t gray. “I love you,” she said.
“Zzznmpfff...,” M snored.
It was more of a response than he’d offered last night, when she told him the first time. He’d said nothing then – not even, “Thank you.”
Wow! What a difference!
I’m conveying the same information, but in a fun way readers can participate in.
What was that thing they teach us in writing class?
Oh yeah.
Show, don’t tell.
I knew that, too!
There’s nothing like learning your lessons over and over. As you live, so shall you write.
My fellow scribes, I urge you to surrender to revision.
The sooner you do, the sooner you’ll find your peace with your story.
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