Maybe No One Will Notice
By Julie Carrick Dalton | September 18, 2019 |
Do you ever get the feeling that a scene you’re writing, just isn’t going to work? That no one would ever act this way? That no one would ever believe this outcome?
Do you ever leave the questionable scene in any way because you need this event to happen for plot reasons? Do you jump through mental hoops to convince yourself, well, maybe this is believable?
Maybe no one will notice.
Let’s consider a hypothetical scene:
A man goes into a forest. For plot reasons, the man needs to die in the scene. The writer takes an easy way out and makes a tree fall on our young man, crushing him to death.
I know I’m not giving you much detail, but I suspect you are finding this a bit far-fetched already. What are the chances that, of all the trees in a forest, the tree right in front of our poor guy would be the exact tree that falls, precisely when the man walks by? And that he wouldn’t hear it and get out of the way? It’s a bit convenient. And incredibly unlikely.
It isn’t as if our character walked onto a logging site where someone was actively cutting down trees. There wasn’t a hurricane, tornado, or earthquake tearing through this forest. It wasn’t even windy. The tree just fell on him. Boom. Our guy is dead.
We can try to convince ourselves the scene is logical. Maybe we go back into the manuscript and lay down some foreshadowing about another tree that fell. We could note in an earlier chapter that a tree in that same forest looked unstable. But none of these poorly disguised breadcrumbs can mask the fact that this scenario just wouldn’t happen.
You are probably thinking that this is a ridiculous example. Who would write such a scene? Who would think they could get away with something so obviously implausible.
Ummmm, it was me.
I wrote a scene in a draft of my book where a man runs into a forest and a tree falls on him. (I’m turning red with shame as I write this.)
Every time someone read the manuscript, I held my breath, waiting for them to tell me the scene was terrible. I did all sorts of mental gymnastics convincing myself that under certain circumstances this might happen. Right? I needed him to die and that conveniently falling tree got the job done.
No one said anything.
All the while, my stomach was twisting in knots because I knew it wasn’t working. But I refused to listen to my gut.
Luckily, my editor called me out on my ridiculousness.
“I don’t buy it,” she told me after reading the tree-falling scene.
I finally cracked.
“I’ve always hated this scene,” I admitted to my editor. “It never felt right. I was hoping no one would notice.”
She laughed and said, “If you are hoping no one will notice something, they will definitely notice. Listen to that little voice.”
Gut feelings are real. We get these sensations that put us on high alert for a reason. They are chemical reactions to stimuli based on available information and past experiences. They can be warnings that our body is sending to our brain based on learned behavior we aren’t even conscious of. It is our body’s way of telling us to pause and reconsider our choices, look at our reasoning, and examine the possible outcomes.
This falling tree incident is not the first time I’ve tried to force a scene into a book even though I knew it was a bad idea. (Remind me to tell you about the bear and the minivan scene someday.)
So why do I ignore my gut feelings?
I spoke with my friend Tim Weed, a novelist and writing instructor at GrubStreet and the Newport MFA program, hoping that he might have some advice for me.
Tim says many writers feel unnecessarily bound by rules of writing that stifle their creativity. “Don’t start with a character waking up. Don’t start with a dream. Rules are a way for writers to get away from trusting their gut. They just follow the rules.”
Tim suggests writers need to do more than just listen to their gut. They need to retrain their instincts.
“You have to let the wild rose bush grow before you can cut it back,” Tim said, quoting a bit of writing wisdom from a fellow writer. “Many people I work with start cutting way too early.”
This made a lot of sense to me. When I get a plot destination in my head, I’ll do anything to get there. Maybe if I’d taken more time to question my own motives about why I was rushing my poor character toward his death, or if I’d given him time to explore in the woods, things would have worked out differently. I wouldn’t have spent some much time stewing over a scene I hoped no one would notice.
If I’ve learned nothing else, it’s this: Someone will always notice.
“It takes time to gain that confidence,” Tim says. “Every writer is different.”
Most fiction writers lump themselves into one of two camps: plotters or pantsers. The plotters outline, graph, and map out their stories. They know how it’s going to end and how they will get there (for the most part.) Pantsters write by the seats of their pants, never knowing what’s coming around the next corner. Pantsters let their characters lead them wherever the story takes them.
And, of course, there are the plansters (plotsters?) who are somewhere in between.
I think I’m a plantster. I’ve been known to make enormous, colorful graphs of my plot. But other times I wing it. I think I’m a more effective storyteller when I plot out where I’m going. I like considering how I build suspense. I love detailed plot and character arcs. I get a rush out of putting my character and plot arcs on one overlapping graph. Is there anything more exciting than a brand new box of sharp colored pencils and a giant piece of paper to graph a novel on?
But Tim is right. Adhering too strictly to conventions and rules gets me in trouble. I need to let go of conventions occasionally, put aside the rules and my carefully crafted three-act structure chart. If I know a character must get from point A to point B, I will twist myself into knots to make it happen. Even if it is a little awkward. Or implausible. Or downright unbelievable.
From now on, if I need a character dead, and they happen to be in a forest, I vow not to drop a tree on them and hope no one will notice. I’m also going to take my editor’s words to heart: “If you are hoping no one will notice something, they will definitely notice.”
In other words, I’m going to give myself some freedom and resist the urge to always rush from point A to Point B. I’m going to let the wild rose bush grow a little wilder. Then I’m going to try to listen to my gut. If my characters need to go off-trail in the woods, I’ll let them wander for a while. It might just save them from having a tree fall on them.
If you are having trouble working your way out a plot corner please reach out to me. I have lots of incredibly plausible ideas I’m not using, such as a bolt of lightning, a bear attack, or a tarantula bite. Feel free to use them. Maybe no one will notice.
Have you ever backed yourself into a plot corner? Do you listen to that little voice telling you something isn’t working? Do you trust your instincts? Has ignoring your gut ever gotten you into trouble?
For me it is not so much scenes of convenience, but scenes that are weak. Dialogue too long. Characters avoiding. Action blunted. Drama low. Maybe no one will notice.
Until they skim that scene. The needed sixth sense is the quiet voice inside that says, “Come on, you know better”. Yeah, I do.
Ugh! I do all of those things too! Especially having my characters avoid doing things I know they need to do. I’m working really hard to listen to my inner editor. Thanks for reading!
I love this, Julie. We’ve all been there. :)
Thanks for reading, Erin! It’s nice to know I’m not alone. (And congrats on the NEW BOOK!!!)
“You have to let the wild rose bush grow before you can cut it back”. That says it all. And I relate to the breath-holding!! Wonderful post. Thank you, Julie.
I love that image of the rose bush too. And yes, the breath holding is not helpful. Thanks so much for reading.
Great post, Julie. And I agree … a writer’s gotta follow her gut!
Dee Willson
Author of A Keeper’s Truth
Hi Dee!
I appreciate your kind words. May we all try to listien to our inner editors! Thanks for reading!
I laughed out loud at this post. I had no idea the bad idea would be coming from you. OMG How funny!
I am writing a novel based on real events, and many coincidences occurred in the real life story that would never be believed in a novel. Every time I’ve written a scene that I want to defend by saying, “But that actually happened in real life,” I know it must be tossed into the dustbin. If my only rationale for why it’s happening, is that it actually happened in real life, the reader is not going to buy it. I think it’s much like your tree falling from out of nowhere (which is still cracking me up!).
Thanks for the great belly laugh!
I’m glad you had a good chuckle! It’s important to be self-critical when looking at our own writing. It’s also really important to be able to laugh at ourselves. Thank you for reading — and laughing!
If you told me that trees occasionally fall over and kill hikers, I’ll believe you. It almost happened to me. I was driving down the road and saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked over to the side and saw a tree falling on me. I dodged to one side and escaped with sheet metal damage, but, if I hadn’t, the tree would have flattened me.
I wouldn’t avoid reading a story that starts with a murderous tree just because it’s unusual. Extraordinary and improbable events happen every day. So, as long as it doesn’t sound like a deus ex machina, I’m prepared to believe. I don’t think I’m atypical.
Great post, and it sounds like I wasn’t the only one sucked in at the beginning… wondering, who could ever have written THAT?? Also love the “plantster” term. New hashtag, maybe?
Hi Carol!
I can’t believe I wrote that either! Thanks so much for reading.
Great post! You’re right, readers notice everything. And love to point it out. They would not only notice that the tree falling on the guy was too convenient, but if you identified a real forest they would point out that there was no tree in that particular spot!
Hi Deborah,
Yes, readers definitely keep us on our toes. Thanks for reading and commenting!
Julie
So true! I’m grateful to know there are others who forget to trust their gut too. I’ve always felt it’s a writer’s greatest tool. Thanks for the interesting post, Julie!
Hi Michele!
I always like reminding myself I’m not alone on this writing journey. I find the more I share my own struggles, the less alone I feel because it draws people out who share my experiences. Thank you for reading!
Julie
Been there! I’ve thought a lot the last few years about writing from the inside out (organically; character led) rather than the outside in (shoehorning because the plot or history or structure says so).
Hi Caroline,
Thanks so much for reading. Writing is a constant battle – but one I’m so glad to be engaged in. Good luck with your own project!
Julie
Thanks for giving me a new way of looking at process. I’m a pantser. I spend a lot of time following characters. The problem arises when one leads me into the forest and says, “Oh, look. A tree is going to fall on me.” Splat! Then, when my critique partners notice, I have to drag her out, revive her, and tell her to try harder. My heart’s desire is to be a plotter, so to help her, I buy another pack of colored pencils and a big sketch pad and stack them on top of the others. Next time, instead of telling her to try harder, I’ll start by suggesting she take her time, wander around a bit, and enjoy the wild roses.
Kathy,
Wouldn’t it be great if we could sit down with our characters and find out what they are thinking before we send them into the woods in the first place? I have so many questions! But, I guess I’ll just have to follow my instincts. Or at least I’ll try. Thanks for reading.
Julie
My current novel starts with my main character waking up. I am unrepentant.
Heidi,
I love it! We all need to muster the confidence to break the rules sometimes. I guess the trick is to know when to it – which involves trusting your gut. I’m working on it! Thanks for your comments.
Julie
The irony is that trees do fall without warning and kill people on a fairly regular basis, at least in my part of the woods. A few examples:
https://www.pressdemocrat.com/news/2264988-181/freestone-woman-killed-by-oak
https://www.pressdemocrat.com/news/2036579-181/mark-west-springs-road-shut
https://www.pressdemocrat.com/news/2782840-181/worker-killed-after-tree-falls
Even so, “but it really happened!” scores zero points. The story has to be plausible on its own terms.
Why am I interested in this exact question? Yep, I have murderous trees in my WIP — but it’s played for absurdity (the trees have their own agenda . . . ). They might get pruned out of my story eventually. But they’re fun for now.
Mary,
You had me at murderous trees with their own agenda! I would definitely read that!
I tried convincing myself that my falling tree situation could happen in my book because it does happen IRL. But you only get one one two coincidences in a novel. Use them wisely or not at all. I agree the “But it really happened” defense rarely holds up.
Good luck with your murderous trees! And thanks for the comments.
“You only get one one two coincidences in a novel. Use them wisely.”
LOVE this! And yes, of course, it’s timely!
Really enjoyed your essay and the comments, esp. “murderous trees” and “but it really happened.” It did, it did!!!
I’m a big believer in my gut. Also my hands. They know more than my head. I once put a parrot in my story just because one of my instructors said if you’re stuck to stick a parrot. Well, I was stuck and I did have a parrot as a child, so I did it…and now I had this amazing layer to play with. So I’m passing it on!
Hi Vijaya,
This post was a lot of fun (and a little embarrassing) to write. I love that you put a parrot in your book on a whim! Sometimes you just have to go with your gut! Thanks so much for reading.
FWIW, I know someone who was in the woods and a tree fell on them and killed them.
Shauna,
Wow! I am so sorry that happened. That’s terrible. I’m gaining a lot of perspectives from reading everyone’s comments.
Julie
The whole trilogy I’m writing is implausible.
It is, deliberately, beginning to end, something with ridiculously low probability.
It is mainstream, and at heart a love story (not Romance), but I have an excellent teacher: Donald Maass. And Chapter 6 of The Fire in Fiction. Written for thriller writers, is is the best description I’ve seen and used for the title of the chapter: Making the Impossible Real.
I laughed out loud when I found it, years ago, and have probably used every single tip in his compact roadmap for exactly how to deal with the gut instinct: do the necessary work. Admit you need it, learn how, and plot and write it properly.
Alicia,
That’s wonderful that you are so in tune with your gut instincts. I love The Fire in Fiction too. such a great book. I may go back and read that section again.
This is perfect: “do the necessary work. Admit you need it, learn how, and plot and write it properly.” It all sounds so easy!
Thanks for reading!
Julie
It sounds easy. It is some of the hardest work I’ve ever done, and I did fusion research in a prior life.
But if you don’t admit something is implausible – and fix it – it’s not magically going to get past readers. They don’t have your filter of love for your work and characters.
Self-awareness in this context is becoming conscious of where you fail your own standards in writing – the first step to being able to fix it. Not a bad widget for the toolbox.
Julie:
What if the guy who needed to die was being chased by a bear, jumped in his minivan to escape, and, in his panic, drove into the tree, which fell on the minivan and killed him?
Christine,
I think you may have just solved all of my plot woes! I’ll get right on that and report back! Thanks for the laugh! And thanks for reading my post.
Julie