The Interview Process: Open Yourself to Surprises

I gave an assignment this week that sent my students into a most unexpected spiral. Their task was to conduct character interviews, one with each of two characters they were creating. This turned out to be much more challenging for them than I had imagined. In the past, students have caught on quickly to the idea; not so this week.

The idea of the interview is for the author to get to know a character. When we create characters and decide who they are, what they look like, and what they will do in the story, we leave no room for surprise. We are dictating everything about the characters, and risk making those characters flat and predictable.

But through the process of interviewing our characters, we can open ourselves to surprise. We can learn things about our characters that might be useful in the story, facets that will add depth and color to our characters.

Interview your characters and make them answer your questions. You’ll know the answers, of course, but in the process of interviewing, you may come up with some questions about aspects of that character that you had never considered. Perhaps you have a character who is a photographer. She is a photographer because you need her to be so for the story. But after interviewing, you may find out that she became a photographer because she was cripplingly shy as a child and finally discovered, in high school, that she could participate in activities if she hid behind a camera, present but unseen. This insight might come in handy later in your story when this character has to step forward and make a stand (as you had already planned). It would give both you and the reader insight into the inner struggle before she acts, giving greater depth to the action and greater interest for the reader.

That is just one example of how sitting down and interviewing your characters can lead to bits of character knowledge that can strengthen your story and your writing. If you simply say that characters “just are,” you lose the chance to be surprised. Talk to your characters, and never let them off the hook with the difficult questions. You’ll grow as a writer and your characters will live.

Character Descriptions

In July, I teach a new class at UCSD Extension, “Creating Memorable Characters.” I’m excited about this class because I believe passionately that characters make a novel. You can have a great plot, a great story, but any great plot or story is diminished by cardboard characters. Take Dan Brown’s books. Gripping, fun rides, but can you describe the characters in anything but caricatures? (No fair using Tom Hanks et al. I’m talking from the books.)

I’ve recently read several novels in which the authors feel the need to describe every character we encounter: hair and eye color, height, weight, body build, etc. Is this really necessary? Can’t they leave something to the reader’s imagination?

For example, if I were to describe someone as a New York thug, I believe I’ve covered the territory. My idea of a NY thug may not be the same as yours, but I’ve allowed you to imagine the character as you choose.

Sometimes, you don’t even need a physical description. If I give my villain #2 a lisp, you can provide the rest. The lisp gives you something to hang on to. It gives you a taste of who this fellow might be. It’s up to you to decide whether that lisp makes him crueler than he might otherwise have been, or whether it gives him a sensitive side, an ability to identify with vulnerability. As an author, I can make use of something like a lisp much better than I can make use of his being 5-foot-1o and blonde.

If size, shape, coloring, and race don’t matter, don’t tell the reader the stats. If you do tell, make sure to use that information at some point. In my current piece under development, my main character is sort of short. This matters for two reasons: 1) her partner is extremely tall, and 2) her height will make a difference in the story. But if she had been of average height, why would I need to state that, unless it proved important in the story?

Characters bring a story to life. A writer must see the characters in order to flesh them out, but the reader doesn’t need a snapshot of each character who filters through the story. If you write a description, make it mean something.

Colonel Sanders wore a white suit and sported a white goatee. There was a reason for that. It told us something about him. But telling us that Rahm Emanuel wears a suit means nothing, unless we are told that it is a suit that sells for multiple thousands of dollars and he pairs them with off-the-shelf shoes because of his bunions. THAT is a reason to describe his suits.

More on characters in my next posting.

Vision Prose

I was recently talking with an author friend (Meg Gardiner) about a book I recently read, a self-published book that screamed for a proper edit. When asked about the primary problem, I said it was “visual prose.”

Too often, writers envision what they are writing, sort of like running a movie in their minds, and then write what they see. This is what I term “vision prose.” Vision prose will kill a good story.

Here’s an example (created just for this blog, not quoting anyone else’s writing): Todd pushed his chair back, got up from the chair, and grabbed his glass from the table. He looked at Nyla with hatred and then turned and walked to the door. Realizing he still had the glass in his hand, he put it on the shelf, took hold of the doorknob, and walked through the door without a backward glance.

I’m not kidding. This is the kind of writing I sometimes have to edit, and, more often, find in published works.

How would I fix it? First, I’d ask the question: what’s the main point of the scene? Answer: Todd leaves in anger or disgust. We don’t care about the glass. If you put the glass in the scene, and show us Todd placing it on the shelf, it had better figure later in the story. Otherwise, leave it out.

We also don’t need to see him push his chair back before rising from the table, unless he does it slowly, with great deliberation, his anger building with each backward inch. If there isn’t some specific meaning to his pushing back the chair, don’t write it.

…. and there’s so much more, but I’ll leave it alone after I ask: How did he manage to walk through the door? Is he only protoplasm?

My suggested edit: Todd scraped his chair backwards, glaring at Nyla, and left without a backward glance.

Okay, so I could probably improve even that, but you get the gist. We don’t need a blow-by-blow description of each of his actions. Give us the meat and leave the fixin’s out.

Next: Describing a Character: Why and How?

I’ll Say It Again

I’ll say it again…I love my job!

I’m currently editing a book recounting the lives of people who had been exiled to the Russian Gulag. Fascinating reading about a population I knew little about, except through movies and novels. As I edit, I am coming to a new understanding of man’s inhumanity to man, and the repercussions of those actions across generations.

The work also causes me to lift my head and look around me, to view the world through a different lens, and to see how our world has changed and how, frighteningly, it has stayed the same.

I begin to question. Given ample food and shelter for every human on earth, would it be enough? Or would there always be those who rise up and try to rule, to exert power over others? I suspect the latter. So much of the cruelty I am reading about is caused not by need, but by greed and by the desire to be master over another.

Okay, so working on books like these don’t make me the best dinner companion, but what an education I receive with each book I edit. Expanding my horizons and making a living by doing so. Who could ask for anything more?

Next, editing a book about the ethics of abortion. Another great opportunity for insight, and another reason to decline my dinner invitations.

It’s Called a Style Sheet

Yesterday I learned something new. When you copyedit for a publisher, they want you to create something called a Style Sheet as you read. I’ve never done that in the past, not with all the books I’ve edited. At least not officially.

A style sheet is a guide for the proofreader and the editor, listing all of the punctuation, capitalization, abbreviation, and miscellaneous stylistic elements of the book. It also contains a long list of words used in the book, especially foreign words and names, for consistency of spelling.

I’ve kept lists like this when I edit, for my own sanity and edification (especially when I edited the book on Greek history), but never realized that such a thing would be useful to others along the publishing cycle. So, it’s an easy element for me to incorporate into my routine…but why had I never heard of it before?

I sit with the Chicago Manual of Style by my side as I edit because, though my brain is a treasury of grammar and punctuation rules, I sometimes double-think myself and have to verify what I already know.

It’s amazing how organized I feel now that I know about style sheets. I’ll use them for all of my clients now, for their own use and for them to pass along to their publishers.

Learn something new every day.

When Do I Want My Name on the Book?

One of the challenges of being a freelance book editor is abiding by the desires of my clients. I can be engaged as a substantive editor, an organizational editor, a copyeditor, or a proofreader. Each comes with different tasks and a different price tag.

Of course, the more substantive the edit, the higher the cost, so many authors choose the least expensive alternative…often when they shouldn’t. It is difficult, as an editor, to perform mere copyediting when the manuscript cries out for so much more. In this situation, I diplomatically inform my client that I believe the manuscript could be improved with further editing; this is always a dicey task, given that I don’t want to appear to be trawling for more work. Some accept, others decline (always because of the cost).

It has been a challenge to accept the limits on my editing options for some clients. But they know what they can afford. However, given the abysmal state of some texts even after I have done my part, I prefer to not have my name listed as editor.

A case in point. I just finished reading a self-published, and freelance edited, novel. Finding errors like “every legend has some bases in fact” and a seemingly total lack of understanding of the compound past, I immediately checked to see who had edited the text. Given the general state of the writing throughout, I would have left my name out of the credits.

There are some books I point to with pride. Others might never have existed.

Excellence in Writing

I just finished two books over the weekend: Greg Hurwitz’s Crimewriter and Brett Battles’ The Cleaner. Both were gripping and, most importantly, well written. Too often, I find good stories that are poorly written. This seems to be especially common now that publish-on-demand (POD) is so easily available.

I won’t name names, but there are books being sold today that would likely not have seen the light of day had it not been for POD. One of the first giveaways to bad writing for me can be found in most of these books….the self-description by the narrator. These are typically so bad, so “I’ve got to tell them what this character looks like,” that I want to throw the book across the room. Of course, POD authors are not the only ones who are lame at this. Take Dan Brown’s description of Robert Langdon in Angels and Demons. That almost got me to throw the book, but I was laughing so hard I simply dropped it. Pathetic. The guy tells a fun story but he is not a good writer!

That’s the difference with Hurwitz and Battles. Both write extremely well. I was a bit put off by the beginning of Hurwitz’s book. In fact, I put it down for a couple of months before getting back to it. It was a case of “look how well I write,” for me at least. I was too aware of him patting himself on his own back, admiring his description of Los Angeles. I’m glad I worked past that though, because it was an excellent book once I read further. Great story idea and well plotted.

I was hooked on Battles’ book from the first moment: the Cleaner, who goes and cleans up crime scenes for “the Office.” Unique idea and tightly plotted and written.

Both of these authors represent excellence in writing as far as I am concerned. I devoured both books and looked up for more, sateless. Next, however, must be Laurie R. King’s latest book, God of the Hives, and Meg Gardiner’s latest, Liar’s Lullaby. Held off reading King’s book, making myself savor the wait. Now is the time. And as soon as Gardiner’s book arrives, all else must wait.