The Challenge: Going Deep and Getting Risky
So, we talked about challenge in relation to form here and here.
And we talked, too, about the spine of the work and the spine of the writer (the Big Why that keeps you writing).
I'd like to go back to challenge and risk for this post, because two of the friends I chatted with after my first challenge post wrote to me about the challenge for writing deep emotion. Both of these women are smart and honest writers. Both of them are kind and sincere people. And both faced the challenge of getting at the emotional depth of their characters by doing something that is out of character for themselves: getting angry.
Let's start with Kate Messner.
Many of you know Kate from her books Spitfire, Champlain and the Silent One, and the recently released The Brilliant Fall of Gianna Z. Kate and I talked about that last novel and the challenge that kept her writing.
Here's Kate:
Here's what Kate said:
I've given some thought to your question about taking risks & facing challenges in writing, and my brain keeps circling back to a particular scene. It's the chapter of THE BRILLIANT FALL OF GIANNA Z. set in the doctor's office -- the one that my editor kept sending back to me. I revised and revised and revised it -- at least I thought I revised a lot -- but every time the manuscript came back to me for revision, there would be a little note on that page.
"I'm just not getting a sense for what she's feeling."
"There needs to be more tension here."
"I still don't think the emotion in this scene feels true."
"Still feel like I'm not really getting a sense for what Gianna is going through here, how intense it is."
Those notes eventually brought me back to the rejection letters I'd received on an earlier draft of the book. More than one mentioned the way I seemed to be "protecting" my characters too much, keeping too much control over the story. It was that old problem, back again.
Who among us hasn't faced that challenge? Identifying a "problem" persistent in our work and wondering if we are up to the challenge of fixing it.
I know I have certain weaknesses. I find it terrifically hard to write action scenes. My characters are most at ease standing around talking about what it is they hope to do and how it might feel to do it. One of the biggest challenges I face is actually making them do the thing on the page. The temptation is always there to start the next chapter by saying "And once that was done, they were able to talk about what they'd do next." Writing action scenes is a skill I want to develop, and one of my WIPs is an exercise in doing so.
But Kate's challenge was a different one. Yes, it meant approaching a category of writing she felt she wanted to do better -- but it also required something deeper than writerly skill.
I understood enough about story to know that I'd have to put my characters through some pain, but when it came time to actually do that, I kept backing off. The third or fourth time I got the manuscript back from my editor, I knew I'd need to approach that scene differently.
So I packed up my laptop and left the house on a Saturday morning, not when I usually write, and set up shop in a corner of our public library where no one ever goes. I opened that chapter and only that chapter with the intent of really going there, going to the doctor's office and getting deeper into Gianna's mind than I had before. And I realized that she wasn't just sad about her grandmother's failing memory. She was angry.
Angry...isn't an emotion that comes easily to me. I live in a family of pretty happy, relaxed people. But angry was what I needed, and so I sat in that corner of the library writing a little, but mostly just thinking and fuming, over what was happening in Gianna's life. And finally, the words started to sound right to me. I finished the new chapter with tears running down my face. And I was tense -- uncomfortably tense -- for an hour after I got home. But I finally felt like I had gone where I needed to go, and the scene finally felt true to me. Interestingly enough, it's the scene I've heard the most comments about since the book was released - the one that people say has made them cry. And I get that now. It made me cry, too.
Kate not only had to take the risk of writing a difficult scene (will it work? won't it?), she also had to risk a part of herself, her own deep emotion, to get there.
On Thursday, another slow-to-anger writer talks about the risks in her work.
But now it is your turn:
What is at risk for you in your work?
How does it relate to the spine of the piece?
To your spine as a writer?
And we talked, too, about the spine of the work and the spine of the writer (the Big Why that keeps you writing).
I'd like to go back to challenge and risk for this post, because two of the friends I chatted with after my first challenge post wrote to me about the challenge for writing deep emotion. Both of these women are smart and honest writers. Both of them are kind and sincere people. And both faced the challenge of getting at the emotional depth of their characters by doing something that is out of character for themselves: getting angry.
Let's start with Kate Messner.
Many of you know Kate from her books Spitfire, Champlain and the Silent One, and the recently released The Brilliant Fall of Gianna Z. Kate and I talked about that last novel and the challenge that kept her writing.
Here's Kate:
Here's what Kate said:
I've given some thought to your question about taking risks & facing challenges in writing, and my brain keeps circling back to a particular scene. It's the chapter of THE BRILLIANT FALL OF GIANNA Z. set in the doctor's office -- the one that my editor kept sending back to me. I revised and revised and revised it -- at least I thought I revised a lot -- but every time the manuscript came back to me for revision, there would be a little note on that page.
"I'm just not getting a sense for what she's feeling."
"There needs to be more tension here."
"I still don't think the emotion in this scene feels true."
"Still feel like I'm not really getting a sense for what Gianna is going through here, how intense it is."
Those notes eventually brought me back to the rejection letters I'd received on an earlier draft of the book. More than one mentioned the way I seemed to be "protecting" my characters too much, keeping too much control over the story. It was that old problem, back again.
Who among us hasn't faced that challenge? Identifying a "problem" persistent in our work and wondering if we are up to the challenge of fixing it.
I know I have certain weaknesses. I find it terrifically hard to write action scenes. My characters are most at ease standing around talking about what it is they hope to do and how it might feel to do it. One of the biggest challenges I face is actually making them do the thing on the page. The temptation is always there to start the next chapter by saying "And once that was done, they were able to talk about what they'd do next." Writing action scenes is a skill I want to develop, and one of my WIPs is an exercise in doing so.
But Kate's challenge was a different one. Yes, it meant approaching a category of writing she felt she wanted to do better -- but it also required something deeper than writerly skill.
I understood enough about story to know that I'd have to put my characters through some pain, but when it came time to actually do that, I kept backing off. The third or fourth time I got the manuscript back from my editor, I knew I'd need to approach that scene differently.
So I packed up my laptop and left the house on a Saturday morning, not when I usually write, and set up shop in a corner of our public library where no one ever goes. I opened that chapter and only that chapter with the intent of really going there, going to the doctor's office and getting deeper into Gianna's mind than I had before. And I realized that she wasn't just sad about her grandmother's failing memory. She was angry.
Angry...isn't an emotion that comes easily to me. I live in a family of pretty happy, relaxed people. But angry was what I needed, and so I sat in that corner of the library writing a little, but mostly just thinking and fuming, over what was happening in Gianna's life. And finally, the words started to sound right to me. I finished the new chapter with tears running down my face. And I was tense -- uncomfortably tense -- for an hour after I got home. But I finally felt like I had gone where I needed to go, and the scene finally felt true to me. Interestingly enough, it's the scene I've heard the most comments about since the book was released - the one that people say has made them cry. And I get that now. It made me cry, too.
Kate not only had to take the risk of writing a difficult scene (will it work? won't it?), she also had to risk a part of herself, her own deep emotion, to get there.
On Thursday, another slow-to-anger writer talks about the risks in her work.
But now it is your turn:
What is at risk for you in your work?
How does it relate to the spine of the piece?
To your spine as a writer?