Friday Fridge Clean-out: Links for Writers, August 1, 2014 Edition

Image by Eric Crowley vie Flickr/Creative Commons

> At Writer Unboxed, Karen Gillespie, on what did and didn't happen when her essay got into the opinion pages at the New York Times.

> How could I not be impressed with a 14-year-old one-day novelist who writes a clever and helpful blog about writing titled Every Stinkin' Page?

> These 11 tips for writing a scene, from John August, originally intended for screenwriters, are helpful for all writers.

> LitReactor's primer on punctuation when writing dialogue, is a handy and comprehensive reference.

> Chuck Wendig with 25 pointers on word choice (warning: his own word choices are often--what's the right word? how about, naughty?)

> Sometimes, you get a rejection and feel sure no one even read your submission. Recently, one literary journal admitted as much (sorry, no time to read, but here's your rejection anyway!). Naturally, there was unhappy chatter,  there was a dust-up, a (sort of) defense, an analysis of the fallout. 

> Student brag box: Patrice Gopo has a lovely piece of segmented nonfiction prose in Rock and Sling. I hope you enjoy reading Marking the Color Trail (weddings, race, red dresses, crossing cultures, young love, Africa, India, and more!)

> Finally, wouldn't these make great (ahem) book titles?

Have a great weekend!

Guest Blogger Jenn Brisendine on Directing Scenes of Dialogue

A perk of contributing to a collected work is making contact with the other contributing writers. One way I like to explore those new connections is to invite fellow contributors to write a guest post here, and at the same time (let's face it, for every perk, there's a payout) bring attention to the book to which we've contributed. So for the next couple of weeks, I'll periodically feature a post from another writer whose work also appears in Women Writing on Family: Tips on Writing, Teaching and Publishing, edited by Carole Smallwood (The Key Publishing House/Canada).

 Please welcome Jenn Brisendine

I love the theatre. I spent more on hours onstage and backstage in college than reading all the works assigned in my English major. When I taught high school literature and writing, I also directed school plays. One semester I designed and taught a fiction writing elective, and many student actors signed up. Teaching them how to craft natural, dramatic dialogue was exciting—we likened their story characters to actors in a play, and I encouraged them to first “direct” the sound and appearance of the scene on an imaginary stage, complete with props, actions, and cues.

When I write dialogue now—fiction or creative nonfiction—I don’t just compose the conversation; I "direct" the dialogue as a theatre director coaches a scene for emotion and meaning. The director listens for emphasis of certain words, but also suggests pauses, inflections, vocalizations, movement, and nonverbal action. Similarly, a writer can control a scene of dialogue in ways that enhance its significance and mood.

We writers have great devices at our disposal, including punctuation, pauses, and action tags. Punctuation is a tiny tool that wields great impact on dialogue:

“I’m leaving, and you are too.”  (With a comma, there’s barely a pause.)

“I’m leaving. And you are too.” (Now it’s a period, and a much stronger break.)

“I’m leaving? And you are too?”  (The meaning has changed.)

“I’m leaving! And you are too!”  (Wow! Use exclamation marks sparingly!)

“I’m leaving. And you…”  (Trailing off indicates uncertainty or distractedness.)

“I’m leaving. And you–-”     (The speaker is interrupted.)

Pacing the scene with pauses adjusts the sound of the dialogue to your reader’s ear:

“Would you sit down?” He hesitated. “I have something to tell you.”

 

With action tags, you can pace the scene, adjust the mental sound of it, and let slip a tidbit of characterization:

“Would you sit down?” He sipped the bourbon and waited for the burn to fade. “I have something to tell you.”

I often write important scenes in play format first, to focus on the characters’ words:

Barney: If you’d sit down for ten seconds, maybe I’d know what you’re talking about.

Alicia: Why should I believe a word out of you?

Barney: Because I’m your husband. Or did you forget that in New York too?

Alicia: That’s not fair.

Barney: No, you’re not fair. Didn’t anyone ever teach you to take turns? You got to do the leaving last time. This time, you stay here. I’m going.

Then I add stage directions to pace the beats of the scene, so the “actors” can emphasize or punctuate the spoken words:

Barney: (watching Alicia for several seconds from his place by the bedroom door) If you’d sit down for ten seconds, maybe I’d know what you’re talking about.

Alicia: (folds two shirts and places them in the suitcase before speaking) Why should I believe a word out of you?

Barney: Because I’m your husband. Or did you forget that in New York too?

Alicia: (stops moving, stares straight ahead) That’s not fair.

Barney: No, you’re not fair. Didn’t anyone ever teach you to take turns? You got to do the leaving last time. (opens door, stops) This time, you stay here. I’m going.

This helps me frame a mental stage performance of the scene. Finally, I can rewrite the scene in fiction format:

Barney watched Alicia yank clothes off hangers. “If you’d sit down for ten seconds, maybe I’d know what you’re talking about.”

She folded two shirts and placed them in the suitcase before speaking. “Why should I believe a word out of you?”

“Because I’m your husband. Or did you forget that in New York too?”

Alicia didn’t move. “That’s not fair.”

“No, you’re not fair. Didn’t anyone ever teach you to take turns? You got to do the leaving last time.” He yanked the door open. “This time, you stay here. I’m going.”

In my mind’s theatre, not only can I see and hear the beats of the scene, I can feel the tension between characters that is generated by the pacing. Ultimately, what we crave in dialogue is that tension; mentally directing the scene before composing it allows the writer to heighten emotion, emphasize conflict, and deepen characterization all at once.

Jenn Brisendine’s essays have appeared in many print and online venues, including Rosebud, The Pedestrian, LiteraryMama, and the anthology The Maternal Is Political (Seal Press); she is also a contributor to Many Genres, One Craft: Lessons in Writing Popular Fiction. A former high school English teacher, she currently works as a freelance editor and writer. Jenn lives in Pennsylvania with her husband, two sons, and a petite 100-pound Great Dane. At her blog, she reviews great writing guides and discusses the quest for balance in the writing life.

Friday Fridge Clean-Out: Links for Writers, Feb. 4, 2011 Edition

Stats are telling me I have a bunch of new readers – so, Welcome! On Fridays, I post links for writers – an entirely eclectic and personal assortment of what I've stumbled across and think may be useful, interesting, intriguing, odd and sometimes, funny. Enjoy!

►In this interview over at Second Act, novelist Terry McMillan describes what happened to her characters while in revision stage for one of her novels: "With each subsequent rewrite, I changed it to be more about them and less about me." So many other good insights in the piece too.

►This weekend, when so many writers in Washington, D.C., at the annual conference of AWP (Association of Writers & Writing Programs), taking a look at the toll the modern writing rat race takes seems particularly apt. Amber Sparks evaluates and decides to step off the maddening treadmill of write fast / publish frequently / share & promote your published work like mad online / write about your writing / then do it all again. (hat tip Cathy Day via Practicing-Writing). Also, read Cathy's post about AWP and anxiety.

►Regular readers of this blog know that I have a thing about the art of writing song lyrics. I simply find it fascinating and therefore loved this piece in the New York Times about how a budding songwriter sought help from a Pulitzer Prize winning poet to improve his lyric writing craft.

►Speaking of poetry, O, The Oprah Magazine's April issue will spotlight poetry, in recognition of National Poetry Month. I feel divided about this. A monster mainstream magazine spotlighting poetry is a good thing, right? But they're planning to mix celebrity poetry with that of recognized poets. And their choice of guest editor? Not a poet, but Maria Shriver. I get that she's (apparently) a lover of poetry, but I wonder – for a magazine devoted to empowering women and recognizing their achievements, might it be a better idea to bring a real live female POET on board to edit the issue?

►The Atavist presents long-form journalism on the iPad, iPhone, iPodTouch, Nook, Kindle and other platforms. Since I don't have any of those devices (yet) I can't personally vouch for the content, though people I trust say they've read engaging pieces of good quality there.

► This one has been in my Friday Fridge Clean-Out hopper for a while and I don't know why I haven't passed it on sooner: Nathan Bransford on writing better dialogue.

► There seems to be something for every kind of writer over at Working Writers, from interviews with mainstream novelists to profiles of poets, tech tips, productivity discussions, and explorations of craft.

►One of my writing coaching clients tipped me off about Sentence First: An Irishman's blog about the English Language. Word and language geeks could waste some real time over there.

►Library Journal's list of five notable memoirs which will debut over the next three months, is now up.

►And finally, while you're waiting (and waiting…) to hear back on submissions to literary journals, you could catch up on reviews of the journals themselves, plus a little (or sometimes, a lot) of writerly jabs in their direction over at the Review Review. (Be sure to read the About page.)

Have a great weekend!

Can we write the *right* dialogue in creative nonfiction?

In my Rutgers class this week, we're discussing writing dialogue in creative nonfiction pieces. One topic is how to deal with the issue of whether you've gotten the words right -- especially someone else's words which appear between quote marks -- and how to define what right means in creative nonfiction dialogue. Sometimes my writing life and my teaching life dovetail in unexpected ways.

Last night I was doing research for an essay in which I wanted to quote a celebrity. It was something he had once said while on stage and the clip has been shown numerous times on TV, as well as on YouTube and zillion websites. I thought it would take me only 2 minutes, and at first, it did.

I pulled up the video footage from the original broadcast, on an official YouTube channel, wrote down what I heard and figured that was that. Then I wondered. What I'd written just seemed a little too grammatically correct. What he'd said was clearly not scripted, and what I'd transcribed didn't sound as spontaneous as he appeared to have delivered the lines. I listened a few more times, but I still *heard* it the same way.

So I went searching for a written transcript of the event, which took longer, but finally found three different, credible sources. Guess what? All three had a slightly different version of what he'd said. One matched mine, the other two did not. Yet all conveyed exactly the same gist of his words, the meaning was clear and identical in all three versions...but the exact words were not.

Did it matter?

It made me think about how we creative nonfiction writers (not media reporters) record and then later write dialogue. We strive hard to get it "right". We agonize. We use everything at our disposal to not only get the words onto the paper we believe others said, but to be sure the meaning is clear too. Sometimes, the latter trumps the former. But in the end, we usually have only our faulty memories to fall back on. And even when we have more, it's still not an exact science.

Consider my little investigation. There was a video and audio recording. Those who had first transcribed it to written words were experienced reporters. And yet, who was "right"? The audio, even on the original clip from the broadcaster who first aired it, was just the slightest bit fuzzy. Maybe because when performers speak into the mic instead of singing, they hold it at a slightly different angle. Also, he was rushed and sounded out of breath after just finishing a long song and dance routine and was wiping his face with a towel. I'll bet if I asked someone who had been in the audience what he'd said, I'd get a different "quote"too.

All the time, I learn something new about writing and about how we nonfiction writers go about reconciling the need to be truthful with the human error built-in to the enterprise.

I used the version which I felt most matched the tenor of the performer's message. That's often the best we can do.