More for the Middle
By Donald Maass | October 7, 2009 |
America is overweight…but not its manuscripts.
I don’t mean that there’s a shortage of manuscripts. God knows, there’s not. Some days it feels like the network arteries in my office are utterly clogged.
Nor do I mean that manuscripts aren’t fat enough. God knows, nowadays we hardly blink when the bottom of the screen tells us that the manuscript we just opened tops out at 600-plus pages. That’s routine.
No, what I mean is that most manuscripts are starved for story. They’re thin, wasting away. There are plenty of words but little weight. These anorexic tales feel like they could blow away in a light breeze.
It’s a condition that I notice constantly at the workshops I teach: However good a novel’s premise may be, the middle drags. Not enough seems to be happening. We describe this as a “slow” read, but what that really means (in part) is that there aren’t enough narrative events.
Why is that? Many authors write with the aim of racking up pages. Their goal is finish! That, obviously, is not the same as spinning story. That entails a commitment to making every scene or sequence a powerful transformation.
Does that sound like too much? Do you imagine a novel overflowing with action and drowning in cliffhangers? Plot is not the point. Change is. Does every scene in your manuscript enact a tangible change, both outwardly and inwardly?
Much workshop advice boils down to cutting, the literary equivalent of putting your manuscript on a diet. That’s not wrong but the better analogy, I think, is this one: build muscle.
Your page count isn’t a measure of health, it’s whether those pages actually do real work.
A literary agent in New York, Donald Maass’s agency sells more than 150 novels every year to major publishers in the U.S. and overseas. He is the author of The Career Novelist (1996), Writing the Breakout Novel (2001), Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook (2004) and The Fire in Fiction (2009). He is a past president of the Association of Authors’ Representatives, Inc.
Donald Maass (he/him) founded the Donald Maass Literary Agency. in New York in 1980. He is the author of The Career Novelist (1996), Writing the Breakout Novel (2001), Writing the Breakout Novel Workbook (2004), The Fire in Fiction (2009), The Breakout Novelist (2011), Writing 21st Century Fiction (2012) and The Emotional Craft of Fiction (2019). He has presented hundreds of workshops around the world and is a past president of the American Association of Literary Agents (formerly AAR).
I love the “build up muscle” analogy! It’s like, just get the thing written (create the body) and then you can work it out (revise)!
.-= Kristan´s last blog ..My little guy’s not so little anymore =-.
Great little article! This is something I strive to do in my writing. I hate reading fluff, and when I write it, I kick myself. Great article from a paragon in the industry!
It always amazes me to hear of astronomical page counts. I’ve yet to pass 300 pages in an MS (roughly 80-85K words) and I’m completely fine with that.
.-= Melanie´s last blog ..Music to My Ears =-.
One of the main reasons why I have found your writing books more useful than all the others is because you say things in a way that literary explains what we should do to make our stories better. That’s why I love this “building muscle” analogy.
.-= Dolly´s last blog ..NaNo 2009 =-.
Same here, Melanie. My YA novel is 68,000 words — within the appropriate range for the group, but not extremely long. My philosophy is, I use exactly the number of words I need to tell the story. Every scene has to move the plot and characters forward. Otherwise, why is it there?
.-= christina´s last blog ..What I’m Reading: Um… =-.
Reading books like you describe is not unlike eating Asian food. It tastes good, but I’m hungry again in a half hour. Revise and cut, repeat.
.-= Jonathan´s last blog ..Encouragement from the Masters =-.
“build muscle” – You do work out every day, don’t you?
I agree and I’ve been working on scenes just this past week. But not only does something have to change, something *important* has to change, even a little bit. And when more changes, the plates (tectonic plates) of the plot shift, leading up to a big, cataclysmic earthquake. I guess a science teacher has different analogies. ;-)
So glad I stumbled on to this. I don’t struggle with middles so much, though I do struggle with beginnings. Mostly because if there isn’t enough set up, then that’s what leaves a thin middle, I think.
A few years back I read a series of articles by Stephen J Cannell on three-act structure, and one of the best things I took from that was to make sure you are revealing new information and surprises in the middle. That bit of info has always seen me through.
Now, I love the middle of the book better than any other part — it’s where I am most engaged in the story. It’s in the thick of it…never a shortage for words. Also, a good middle is what sets up a good ending, too, IMO.
As a category writer, I have learned to pack a lot into a short space, usually 50K or less, and have enjoyed even more doing it in novellas and shorts… For me, writing anything over 300 pp (ms length) is a huge challenge.
Sam
Hmm Can you please write an article about back ends now? Not that they need more bulk, mind … I have trouble finding the right endings without making them appear forced.
.-= Genevieve´s last blog ..An Echo In The Bone – book review =-.
Well put. Quality not quantity. A book that can snag me at the beginning then close with an iron grip in the middle is more likely to keep me reading to the end.
‘Plot is not the point. Change is. Does every scene in your manuscript enact a tangible change, both outwardly and inwardly?’
Shall stick on wall above my computer and use as mantra for writing. Thank you, Donald.
“Does that sound like too much? Do you imagine a novel overflowing with action and drowning in cliffhangers? Plot is not the point. Change is.”
Thank you for this. My critique group is filled with thriller writers, wheras I write romance. I find myself wondering if the low physical stakes in my chapters make them yawners. But what this tells me is that psychological drama and change can be compelling too, provided they are well-executed.
.-= Jan O’Hara´s last blog ..From Ripple to Tsunami – The Hope Series, Finale =-.