What You Don’t Know Will Hurt You

When I lived in Mexico, working in orphanages in very poor and dirty places like Reynosa, there was a situation wherein a very young mother of fifteen walked to the front door with her infant son. He was only three days old. The baby died in my arms. It apparently died because the mother had given the infant Coca Cola in a bottle since its birth. The baby’s health had deteriorated rapidly, and the infant couldn’t be resuscitated, even with the medic’s help.I know your knee-jerk reaction, because it was likely the same as mine—maybe even less than mine, since I am a bleeding heart with a double dose of maternal instinct. I have two girls biologically speaking and have fostered eight (at the same time) so, given my experience, even with third world countries, I was livid.

Then, I learned that the young mother turned to prostitution after having been abandoned by her parents as a very young girl. When asked why she had given her infant soda pop instead of milk, she answered that he seemed thirsty. She went to the Mercado, compared the prices of various products and found that the carbonated beverages were the least expensive, so that’s what she feed. Upon further questioning, we found that the girl had no idea that infants drank milk, much less why her breasts hurt so much.

It took a long time for me to gain understanding for these situations… the idea that a person knows what they know, (even seemingly obvious things) simply because someone educated them. Think of it. The only reason you know that infants drink mother’s milk (or formula for that matter) is because someone told you that fact.

A similar realization came to me (to a much lesser degree of course) when I was analyzing the mountain of entries for one of the short fiction literary contests. It struck me that many of the entries, even the ones with a great deal of potential, fell into the same traps over and over again.

That is when I realized the necessity for writing an article with a few important tips to getting your work read, published and appreciated for the merits it genuinely offers the reader. More often than not, simple but avoidable errors make all the difference in the quality of a piece of work. Unfortunately, these mistakes can only be avoided if one knows what to avoid. So, here is the proverbial voice, telling you to follow the light…

Seven Deadly Sins:
Don’t Write About Sex or Religion
Seriously, unless you have something deviant to say about it (and no, this is not an invitation to send us hard porn) or you are uncovering a little-known secret (such as something with the title: A Look Inside a Buddhist Nun’s Life… Fifty Years of Meditation) these are the two most difficult subjects to write about. It is generally easier to write about politics than either of these, so it even supersedes the old standby rule of appropriate party conversation. Face it, we are inundated with images and ideals surrounding sex and religion from an early age. There is little you can say about it that we don’t already know (at least that we would want to know). What are you going to say? He looked deeply into her eyes? She kissed him tenderly on the lips? Really? Let’s say it once more: Just about everything you write will be cliché. Just hint at it…we’ll fill in the gaps. Trust me.

Show and Tell
Writing is like a game of Show and Tell. Only, don’t tell so much. Don’t insult your audience’s intelligence by telling too much. A huge part of writing is in the imagination of the reader. Give them room to think. Readers hate to be patronized. Even being led by the hand is sometimes quite annoying. Do so cautiously, and only if it is absolutely necessary. There is a reason that we call it the “Craft” of Writing. The allusion to magic is not lost on us. Nuanced speech and careful attention to the motivation behind everything that is said and done by a particular character, are of paramount importance when developing your story. Don’t be intimidated by this advice. Yes, it is dense and a bit difficult to take in, but your awareness of this necessity will improve your writing dramatically. By the way, Stephen King has a great section on this subject in his book, On Writing.

Setting the Table
My old professor and mentor once used this term. He said that painting the surroundings for the reader, laying out the scene, was like setting a table. You don’t just throw food onto a bare table and say “eat.” You place the plates, and glasses and silverware on the table. You bring out the salt and pepper, the salads, and the napkins. You place the candelabras in the center and light the candles…then, the entrée, etc. You get the picture. It sounds obvious doesn’t it? Check your work. So often (more often than not, actually) we get short fiction in, and from beginning to end, we still have no idea what city we are in, much less about the room, house, etc. from which the story is launched. It is essential for the reader to be grounded. To understand the surroundings, even if they are that of a simple bedroom, in such a way that it encourages the suspension of disbelief, as Samuel Taylor Coleridge would say, referring to the formula devised by the poet and notable philosopher. It is as if the reader, upon beginning the voyage into a story, is disembodied, somehow, as though his/her soul is in the ether, and you have to speak everything into existence for them. If you don’t describe it, it doesn’t exist. Don’t assume anything. Ever. Ask yourself if the reader knows where thy are as the story takes place. What does the place look like? What scents are in the air? What sounds are surrounding the protagonist, and of course, what is the overall affect of this environment? That is to say, this is where you Show and don’t Tell. Don’t tell us the office is dirty and depressing. Describe the uncomfortable chairs; the yellowness of the light as it filters mournfully in through cracked panes, like those of an abandoned warehouse in the industrial district. Show us.

Dialogue
Dialogue is one of the most difficult things to teach. It requires the most densely populated punctuation, and represents the most direct interpersonal communication between the characters. It makes characters believable. Or not. It renders a piece wonderful or nearly atrocious in a single stroke. But! Like all good teachers, I will give you some tricks for solving some of these problems. If you really are struggling with good dialogue, the best way to attack this issue is to carry around a digital voice recorder all day. Every time you are about to have a conversation with someone who is particularly inspirational or lively, record your dialogue. Take it home, and write it out exactly as it was said. Jargon and all, let it spill. Specifically, allow the reader to go from one to the other without all the cumbersome “he said”,

“she sighed”, “she said” (and try not to say “said” too much, by the way). For instance:
Aaron looked hard at Miriam, and with a tone that sounded like disgust, he answered her,
“I don’t believe you”
“What do you mean?” Her face was pale.
“I don’t believe you lost your ring.”
“I—I told you, I went swimming with Samantha and it must have slipped off somehow. You can call her if you want. She was there.”
“She was where?”
“At the beach. I told you that already.”
“You have had time to get your stories together though.”
“Aaron, why would I lie about that?”

Notice in this example, the reader is re-oriented occasionally by the use of the antagonist’s name within the dialogue itself, or with the reference to her face growing pale, etc. This gives the reader a small elbow as to whom is currently speaking, as opposed to beating them to death with the word “said.” Remember, often what isn’t said is at least as powerful as what is. Notice infidelity is never mentioned in the vignette above, but it is pretty obvious, even without a narrator, what the subcurrents are.

The second quick piece of advice I would give aspiring writers is to immerse in great dialogue-driven books. Even short stories. Hemingway’s Hills Like White Elephants comes to mind.

Character Development
It isn’t easy. I know. Believe me. By the time a story is fully fleshed out and characters are developed, I am living with them. One is spraying my roses midday and telling my neighbor embarrassing things about me. Another is digging in my refrigerator making a turkey sandwich, and yet another is asking for my car keys while walking out of my house with my toothbrush in his mouth. The motto of the Writing Religion ought to be “What Would My Character Do?”

You end up living with these characters because that is the only way you know them well enough to write honestly about them. Once you know them from the inside out, full histories, warts and all, then you can write with authority, because you know these people. That brings depth, believability and yes, sympathy from your target audience. We don’t even have to like the character. We just need to understand them, and their motivations.

Perspective
You thought you would get away didn’t you? Perspective is incredibly important. Many stories are good, but they might have been great, if written from another perspective. For instance, a limited omniscient perspective, and sometimes from the perspective of someone other than the protagonist, would have served the piece far better. It would have lent mystery and depth to the main character, not being able to hear all of the thoughts in their head.

Think about all of this well before picking up the pen…consider how the story is best approached. Are the interior thoughts important for every character? Is the story more powerful if we are seeing through the main character’s eyes, or through someone else’s observing their speech and actions?

And don’t slip! It is a nasty fall. If you decide upon the limited omniscient perspective, don’t accidentally slip and say what someone else is thinking. This would be a huge mistake and it will really distract and jar the reader. Let it flow.

Don’t Hate Your Editor
I won’t say there is no such thing as a bad editor. I know they exist. I’ve heard all kinds of war stories about a writer’s “voice” being edited out. But by and large, we can really help you. And a great editor is priceless. Many people get so possessive over their piece that they feel it is somehow blasphemy to allow anyone else to touch it…as if the fact that it came out of them at all immediately renders it good. Sorry, but lots of things come out of us. That doesn’t make them good.

You need thick skin, and here is why:

Do you know that Michelangelo was an editor? It is true. Many people froze when they saw him chipping away at the gorgeous pieces of marble. But he was editing. To put it the way he did, he was freeing the form inside. Editors aren’t your enemy. They are the ones who hone and sharpen your voice. We chip away at the unnecessary parts that do not allow your work to be appreciated properly. We are here to help “you” to be better heard, better seen and better understood. You have done your work; allow us to do ours. We will see the greatness in you. You don’t have to agree with every editing decision, but editors are usually right about 90% of the time, or better. If you tend to be sensitive, and cannot help yourself, then save yourself some pain —edit it yourself at least five times before showing it to anyone.

So listen up, and don’t be defensive. It renders you unmarketable and ultimately as being branded “hard to work with.” And we don’t need that. Which means your work will likely never see the light of day…and how is that good for anyone? One of my students became irritated with me because he thought it was criminal to criticize (and I mean that in a classical sense) his poetry. “How can you criticize my own personal thoughts? Who are you to judge what comes out of me? I think it is great.” My answer? Simply: There are two kinds of writing: The first is the kind you do for yourself. Your diaries. Your journals. The second, is the kind you do for your voice to be heard by others. That which you print, you share, and you publish. I teach the second kind. Do you want to know how I grade? It is based upon whether or not you communicated your thoughts well. Did you implement the tools provided to tell your story? If I don’t get it, you don’t pass. I don’t have to agree with what your work says. I only have to understand. And you have to make me understand in an artful way. I don’t know how to put this any easier than I did to that Creative Writing Class. I still stand by this as the defining line between where editors (and teachers) belong, and where they don’t.

Can you find examples of successful pieces that break some of the aforementioned rules? Sure. But they are rare. And they are the exceptions. You can break the rules too… but not until you have mastered them!

Happy Writing!
Hadassah R. L. Broscova
Editor-In-Chief
Carpe Articulum Literary Review