By Joaquin Marfa
We all know the rules for writing good fiction: start in medias res; show, don’t tell; avoid adverbs like the plague. Well … that last one is very forgettable. But they say the greatest storytellers understand that rules are meant to be broken in meaningful ways.
So, why, my dear modern fiction author, did you become ONE WITH THEM? It was said you would destroy the rules, not join them!
And so, we have the first type of Novel Writer:
No.1: The ‘Start in Medias Res’ Enjoyer
I didn’t think it was normal for corporate office workers named “Bob” to come crashing from the sky, making me drop all my groceries and all my previous thoughts with them.
Okay … maybe that was too good an example. Honestly, as the kids would say, I cooked with that one. That first sentence is quite packed — it’s not just about Bob crashing down from the very heavens or how his glasses broke on the landing, we also get anchored by an ‘I’ who, perhaps, had just come back from the supermarket.
“Start in Medias Res”, meaning start in the middle of things, is often interpreted as needing to start in the middle of a vague fighting sequence that carries no meaning or reason for the reader to care about.
No.2: The Info Dumper
We all know how this goes. Come on. Just get it over with — give me a detailed account of the last hundred years of the kingdom of Australiana.
World building can be hard. But, to many, it is addicting and rightfully rewarding. I don’t know a fantasy author who could hide their grin behind knowing the fact that there was a detailed fan-made encyclopedia of their intricate world and cultures.
But the heartbreaking truth is, my beloved fantasy author, that good world building comes with knowing that 90 per cent of it will NOT be presented to the reader. Good world building comes with that responsibility not to show off.
No.3: The Restraint Connoisseur (The Hemingway Fan)
I looked into his eyes. He looked into mine. I walked into a room. He walked into it too. I turned around. He sat on the ground — what? Too simple? What do you mean it’s too simple? Those sentences are PACKED. I can FEEL the subtext dripping between the words from behind the page.
This, my friends, is the iceberg theory from Ernest Hemingway. He says that only one-eighth of a story should be visible, the remaining staying submerged in subtext. Most of the time, when done right, a scene can be felt far more by saying less. But too little, and nothing will be felt at all.
No.4: The Prose Artist
The dust twinkled down like shooting stars as I waved the feathery tool on the tall, aged cabinet. I love cleaning.
In short, just say duster, bro.
No.5: The Showing Never Telling Merchant
My hand shot to my mouth as the big, burly man crouched to pick up his glasses. Canned tuna, white onions, the half-priced pineapple that I was going to incorporate somehow … everything I bought for dinner was scattered on the ground. The man with glasses was called Bob. I hate him.
I’m having too much fun writing these weird excerpts.
“Show, don’t tell” is advice that, unfortunately, is told often, and misinterpreted far more. Telling is a powerful thing for authors. When used correctly, it will never feel like it’s cradling your readers and feeding them meaning with your hand.
The right telling should feel like voice. The wrong telling will feel like summary.
Featured image: Writers have different ways to make readers flip pages. Photo: Samar Mourya/CC/Pexels
