Subverting Your Own Rules Isn't Clever, It's Just Bad Writing

When you write a story you are establishing the rules for how your world works. If vampires are destroyed by sunlight in your story, for example, then that is a rule in your world. If werewolves can only be harmed by gold instead of silver, it's your book, your rules. If spells need to be spoken aloud, and there need to be precise gestures with an implement such as a wand, a staff, or a beringed hand, then those are some of the foundation of your setting.

 

Because when you give your audience rules about the physics of your fantastical, they find it a lot easier to swallow.

 

They don't have to be complicated, just consistent.

 

A lot of authors run into a situation where they think the cleverest thing they can do to surprise their readers is to take those established rules and chuck them out the window when it's appropriately dramatic. However, that isn't a way to surprise your audience, or make you look clever... instead, all you're doing is pulling the mask off the villain at the end of the mystery and revealing it's a character no one could have guessed because the reader had never heard of them until that very moment.

 

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Readers Don't Like Cheats

Imagine for a moment you're playing chess with someone. It's a tight game, and things are getting pretty tense. Then, just when it looks like they're about to find themselves in checkmate, they declare that their last knight can, in these special circumstances, move all the way across the board to put the other player in checkmate.

Is it dramatic? Absolutely. But it's in direct violation of the rules of the game, and the other player would be well within their rights to tell the person trying such a stupid thing that if they're going to be a sore loser then they simply won't play with them anymore.

We agreed on the rules when the game started.

The same thing happens when you agree on the rules of your world. If you tell your readers that iron is a necessary component of spells, and that's why battle wizards wield cold iron staves and swords, then you can probably get away with using blood as a magical implement given that there's iron in it. That's unexpected, but it still falls within the rules you've described for your setting, and how things are supposed to work.

On the other hand, say that you made a big deal about how a legendary cursed item can only be destroyed by someone willingly sacrificing their own lives. If a character makes that sacrifice, the audience knows the consequences. You told them up-front that if someone does this of their own free will, they die. Period. End of story. So if you pull a last-minute trump card out of your behind so a character can make the sacrifice, but not actually die, all you've done is cheapen the story, and undermine the impact and stakes you set up in the first place.

You've done something worse, though... you've harmed your reader's trust.

Readers will accept all kinds of silly ideas and ludicrous explanations. They will put up with hackneyed premises, tired tropes, and shallow motivations. But the second you lie to them about how the world they're reading about works, you're actively hurting your credibility as their storyteller.

To be clear, we're not talking about gray areas where the reader isn't sure what's happening, or an unreliable narrator situation. If someone says that "most" wizards need to use a wand, or it's "common practice" not to transfuse an orc's blood into a human, you haven't told your readers that these things must be done in a certain way. You've admitted they might be uncommon or unusual, but you haven't said these things are impossible. You've given yourself some wiggle room for legitimate surprises.

It's when you directly contradict yourself that your audience is going to get pissed. When you tell your audience that something can't be done, or doesn't happen, and then you go back on that. Because once you lie to your audience about one thing, they can't really trust you when it comes to new proclamations. Are elves really the only ones who can perform these rites, or are you going to change that up when it's plot convenient? Are those black matter blades wielded by the dark army really impossible to counter, or will your hero find a heretofore unknown mystery element that can parry them? Can the Chains of Antioch truly bind gods and devils alike, or are they going to be broken just because it makes things easier for you?

You need your audience to trust you if they're going to come on this journey. So if you're going to lay down a rule, apply it consistently throughout the story. Don't just discard it when it gets inconvenient, or you'll find your readers may not wait around for you to explain yourself.

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That's all for this week's Craft of Writing! For more of my work, check out my Vocal archive, or at My Amazon Author Page where you can find books like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife, or my short story collection The Rejects!

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Good Writers Understand The Rules, Before They Break Them

There is no faster way to start a fight on a writer's forum than to talk about the rules of writing. Whether it was stuff we learned when we were kids in school (never start a sentence with "and" or "but" for example), or it's a little more complex (questions of whether the three-act structure is superior, or if Chekhov's Gun is ironclad, or simply a matter of opinion), there are few things writers love to argue about more than someone else supposedly telling them how to write their books.

"And ANOTHER reason why you're wrong and write bad books," said both sides.

This week, I wanted to take a position that shouldn't be controversial (but probably will be). Because yes, it is your book, and you may choose to follow the conventional wisdom of writing rules, or tear them up and throw them out the window. Books have been successful either way.

However, if you're going to throw out all of the very sound advice folks have about what you should and shouldn't do when writing a book, it's important that you understand why you're doing so. Breaking the rules just for the sake of breaking them isn't going to make your story any better.

We All Had Training Wheels, Once Upon A Time

In his book The View From The Cheap Seats, Neil Gaiman talks about the intoxicating feeling that every writer has had when they first started writing stories. That sensation of power that you are the master of an entire universe, and that you can make your will manifest, can often leave you drunk with power. A feeling that can lead to you thinking you're so talented that you don't need all those rules; your work will be all the more special for ignoring that hogwash.

You get drunk with other things later on in your career, most of the time.

The important thing to remember, or so the more famous Neil said, was to understand the rules of storytelling before you discarded them out of hand. To grasp their whys, and hows, and wherefores so that you could see the logic that made them work, and to understand what it would mean if you ignored them for your particular story. They are, in a very real way, like the load-bearing beams that hold up your story's house. Are they functional? Sure. Can you get rid of them? Of course you can... but you'll need to replace them with something that serves to hold your story up so that your narrative doesn't fall apart on you.

Shit... what was that one there for, again?

The common sense rules of writing (which you can pretty much read as anything you'll find in a book about writing, and most of the advice from people who do this as a living) all have their place. They are the stepping stones that you need to cross, and the knowledge you need to understand. They're the safety net below the trapeze. And if you're going to try a new, high-flying act that defies all the established rules, it's important that you have plenty of practice under your belt so that you know every possible thing that could go wrong.

Or, as my father said regarding carpentry projects, "You need to learn the correct way to do something, before you find the right way to do it." Because they aren't always the same way, but you should have the knowledge and experience to know when the "correct" method isn't the one your project needs.

Most importantly, understanding all the existing rules lets you know which ones are going to really work for your style, your story, and your audience, and which ones you can ignore without worrying about structural integrity. Because while you can ignore any rules you want to when it comes to your story, you still need to understand why you would ignore them, and the kind of problems you might have to deal with in the absence of that particular rule.

Gaining that kind of understanding takes practice, and a lot of experimentation. But trust me when I say this; riding without a helmet just because you can is no guarantee that your story will be better... if anything, it means the crash might be a whole lot messier if you aren't sure exactly what you're doing.

That's all for this Craft of Writing installment. Remember, write responsibly, and take all criticism you get with a grain or two of salt. For more of my work, check out my Vocal archive, or head over to My Amazon Author Page where you can find books like my sword and sorcery novel Crier's Knife.

To stay on top of all my latest releases, follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. And if you'd like to support me and my work directly, you can tip me by Buying Me A Ko-Fi, or go to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page to become a patron today!

5 Writing Rules That Help You Get A Better Second Draft

Writing is an art form, and generally speaking there is no way to police the creative process. Something that breaks every, single rule you have for what is acceptable might achieve great commercial success, much to your chagrin. Alternatively, something you consider one of your greatest successes might be something another author (even someone who is in the same weight class and genre as you) would never have touched with a ten-foot pole. We are all unique, and each of us uses our own process.

Yeah, I'm going down this rabbit hole.

With that having been said, it is a good idea to find some rules that work for you, and that help you get from Point A to Point B when you sit down to tell a story. And since I'm elbow-deep in the second draft of a novel manuscript at the moment, I figured I'd share some of the rules I've developed as a response to the editing process.

Rule #1: When In Doubt, Cut It Out

One of the most important rules of editing any draft is that if your initial effort is fatty or bloated, it's time to take the scissors and start sculpting. If you want your book to have six-pack abs, then it's going to have to feel the burn. Whether it's a cool phrase you thought of that really doesn't work, that second or third fight scene you put in for additional fan service, or just re-iterating a piece of exposition you already laid out, start cutting. Flab, even flab that might be funny, or fun, or full of witty text, is your enemy when you're editing.

Rule #2: Always Ask "Why?"

So, you've got your book. Maybe it's good, maybe it's bad, but it's on the page in front of you now rather than in your head. When you're editing, you need to have a little man on your shoulder ask "why?" every time you come across a salient point. It isn't enough to ask why, though; you need to have an answer. So when your little editor asks, "why are these characters at odds with each other?" you should be able to answer, "they're professionally competing for a promotion and glory, and while they have mutual respect for each other, this tension over their egos is what stops them from being friends." If you ask why, and you don't know the answer to the question, it might be time to reconsider that particular story choice.

Rule #3: Always Ask "Why Not?"

When it comes to a book, the parts of the story you choose to tell us are just as important as the parts you don't. So, in addition to asking why, the editor sitting on your other shoulder should be asking why you didn't do something. So, for example, if the question is, "why didn't this character bring back-up with them on their quest, choosing to go it alone?" you should have the answer ready to fire off. Whether it's that they're a loner, and have no one they can call on for aid, or that they're arrogant and think they can handle it themselves, or that what they're doing is highly illegal and they don't want criminal charges falling on their friends, you need to have answers to the "why not?" editor, too.

Rule #4: Don't Be Afraid To Explore

Just because you're trimming down your first draft, that doesn't mean you should feel afraid to explore things you didn't while you were getting the initial words onto the page. For example, if it feels like the chemistry between two characters changes too suddenly, then slow it down. Add a chapter, or event, where they address some of their friction, and put it to bed. Show change happening so the audience doesn't get whiplash. Maybe you skipped the protagonist's journey from the wilderness to the capitol, but you make reference to some cool stuff that happened on the road. Well, you can expand on that, and show the audience what happened. You can make room, and stretch out, if it makes the story better.

Rule #5: Look At The Big Picture

When you're initially writing a book, it's easy to miss the forest for the trees. Every day you're focusing on a new section of the wall, laying your mortar and bricks along the lines you previously set out. But once it's done, and you step back, you might notice your wall is crooked as shit. Or that, while it's functional, it would be better if you could have bent it in a different direction. Because it's not enough for a book to just be readable, and to make cognitive sense; you need to identify all the problems, and iron them out. Whether that means nixing the witch in chapter eight because she just feels like a token way to deliver exposition, or choosing to injure your lead in an earlier chapter so the fight scenes feel more tense later on, the point is always the same. You need to look at the book as a whole, and understand where little changes need to be made to alter the bird's-eye view.

That's all for my thoughts on this week's Craft of Writing post. If you'd like to stay on top of my latest releases, then follow me on Facebook, Tumblr, and Twitter. If you'd like to help support me and my work, then head over to The Literary Mercenary's Patreon page. All it takes is $1 a month to help keep the content flowing, and to get a free book as a thank you.