Follow the Energy of Denial
By Kathryn Craft | August 10, 2023 |
photo adapted / Horia Varlan
Twenty-some years ago, while reading a published crime novel for enjoyment, I encountered a first sentence similar to this:
I marched through the restaurant at 5 a.m. Tuesday, ignoring the stench of the dead body and the unhinged sous chef who’d found it.
This sentence immediately popped me from the story. New at the time to story analysis, it took me a while to determine that my problem was with the word “ignore.” Instead of reading on, I sat and wondered, If our first-person POV character is “ignoring” something, why did she mention it? and Does one ever get to a point when one can simply “ignore” the stench of a dead body? and How do you ignore an unhinged sous chef? In the next line, when I learned she was a police detective, I thought, Would a police detective really “ignore” aspects of a crime scene, especially a stench that might inform her that the body had been decaying there since Saturday night, when the restaurant was last open? And if she can ignore these details, should we trust her to have the instincts to solve this murder?
Make no mistake, you do want to raise questions with the opening of your novel, but these were the wrong kind. You also want your opening to be memorable, but not for these reasons. I concluded that the author was implying that this character wasn’t really a very good detective. Having lost faith in the protagonist after just one sentence, followed by a paragraph that did nothing to salvage the situation, I set down the book.
Since then, I’ve learned that creative writing doesn’t have a lot of “rules,” save one:
Give the reader no reason to put down your novel.
It may well be that you’re such a mystery lover that you would have skipped right over this issue and continued on. Reading is subjective, after all. Even so, this one sentence offers up several aspects of craft worth thinking about.
Focus on what your character is doing instead of what she isn’t
I heard this advice early on in my creative writing journey and it has proven to be a worthy guide: Rather than write about what your character doesn’t do, identify what she does do. This will help the reader accumulate details pertinent to her characterization (as opposed to ruling out who she isn’t), while also prompting you-as-author to determine what your character wants in any given scene.
[If that feels like a challenge to your creativity, I too can picture a literary novel beginning with, “Leon Adamzcyk went out to feed his birds at the crack of dawn because he was not the kind of man who wanted to talk to his neighbors.” This could begin a list of other things that Leon Adamzcyk is not, ending this opening with the line, “Problem was, Leon Adamzcyk didn’t know who he was.” Thing is, your readers would know something: he cares about the birds.]
If the detective in the opening story is assigned to this case yet she immediately ignores its specifics, show us why by giving her an alternate scene goal. Maybe her ex owns the restaurant and her first priority is to make sure he’s okay. You can still orient us to the action in the room while she is pursuing that primary goal:
I entered the restaurant at 5 a.m. Tuesday morning and marched straight toward Jimmy’s office, swinging wide around the techs at the crime scene and holding my breath against the stench produced by a corpse at least two days old.
Adding a goal is such a slight change, yet it energizes the scene while at the same time showing her experience. I’d trust this protagonist more; she has a story to tell. Her actions—as opposed to what she is trying to avoid—raise better questions: Who is Jimmy to her? Is he there, or did he leave to avoid her? Did she not look at the body because she couldn’t bear it if it had been him, or perhaps because her emotions are so buttoned up that she saved herself inner turmoil by making sure he was okay first? What is he doing when she finds him: locking his safe? Pacing, his clothes rumpled as if they were yesterday’s? Their conversation would show how she feels about their relationship status and may suggest whether she trusts him or has long suspected his involvement in shady dealings—but it is sure to raise many interesting questions. She can then circle back to get the preliminary report from the crime scene techs.
What she wants to avoid, of course, are the stakes should she not achieve her scene goal—but those dreaded consequences will feel more potent once we find out what it is this detective wants. Let her actions betray this.
Attention goes where you refuse it
If you walked into a room and I told you, “Don’t look in that corner; the ghost hides there,” wouldn’t you look in that corner? There is energy in the things we refuse to do, that we ignore, and that we are determined to forget. But that energy is easier for the reader to follow once she has gotten to know the character.
If we knew that this detective is always keen on every detail the moment she enters a crime scene—maybe one of the techs, knowing this, rushes over with a report, but she pushes him aside—we’ll know that her attempt to ignore these natural inclinations will signal that something’s up.
Following the energy of refusal can work with any type of character in any genre. Maybe you’ve established that your CEO and amateur artist, Leon, uses his painting to escape his everyday troubles. So he picks up his brush, refusing to think about the way a board member’s graceful fingers had conveyed her anger, and determined to forget the way the light fell on her curls as she stormed off. When these details worm their way into his work, readers will know just how important this woman is to him.
What we want to avoid in our own lives can serve as powerful subject matter in our novels as well. I don’t want to write a historical novel, you might find yourself saying, just as Zadie Smith described in the July 10 & 17 issue of The New Yorker. Yet her September release, The Fraud, is just that. The more she tried to ignore the way the story idea called to her, the more notes she took. She absolutely refused to be yet one more British author to pay homage to the literary heritage left behind by Dickens, but the man ended up a character in this novel anyway. “Look,” Smith admits to saying to Mr. Dickens in The New Yorker piece. “You can have a walk-on part, but then I am killing you.” And she did.
Then she adds, “Not long after I wrote that triumphant scene, for practical reasons (a flashback) Charles made his inevitable return, appearing as a younger and even more irrepressible force than he had been forty pages earlier. At that point, I gave up.”
What is ignored can inform story structure
Characters often move into our minds with a suitcase full of problems and things they want to avoid, while what they want remains vague. I’ve had some luck simply asking my character what it is she wants, and then journaling the answer in her voice. The results have sometimes surprised me! And yet some of us know from our own lives that “What do you want?” can be a question more easily posed than answered.
Here’s where following the energy your character devotes to avoidance, denial, or a refusal to do something can come in handy, as it can inspire a powerful question.
Think: “What is the worst possible thing that could happen to my protagonist?” This question, that typically informs your novel’s dark moment, shows what the protagonist is willing to fight hard for—and this can lead you to understand what it is your character truly desires. Working backwards, that speaks to her story goal. Which can lead you back to the incident that incited your character to create that goal.
Which can help you set up an opening line that will draw the reader straight into the beating heart of your story.
Did my first example about the detective draw you in? Why or why not? Have you ever followed a character’s avoidance, denial, or refusal to help you pin down that elusive thing s/he truly desires? If you’ve had trouble discerning a character’s goal, what helped you?
Kathryn Craft (she/her) is the author of two novels from Sourcebooks, The Art of Falling and The Far End of Happy. Her forthcoming book, Crafting Story Movement: Techniques to Engage Readers and Drive Your Novel Forward, draws from decades of experience as both a story consultant and a movement specialist/dance critic. Learn more on Kathryn’s website.
[coffee]
You really got me thinking with that first line example, especially the ignoring part. And this especially: Focus on what your character is doing instead of what she isn’t. Such simple advice that can peal back so much to reveal their issues, backstory, flaws, and goals. And in focusing on what they ARE doing instead of what they are NOT can help us dive even deeper within the character to discover their complexities and conflict–making them, and the story, more interesting.
Yes, simple but effective, right Donna? Thanks for stopping in! And you know me—it’s always about the deep dive!
Yes! That first line example was so confusing. And so was the first draft of my first novel. ;-) I had the main character wondering, thinking, going up and down the stairs, picking the phone up and down….until a wise writer friend said “Just get her out of bed … and you’re off!”
Oh Linda, you made me laugh so hard! With recognition, of course—my first (drawer) novel was the same way. But we have to start somewhere, right? Thanks for stopping by!
Hello Kathryn. The detective ignoring something fully perceived doesn’t bother me: I take “ignore” in this instance to mean that however nasty the stench of a dead body may be, it’s not going to deter an experienced detective. What DOES catch my eye and amuse me, in a way no writer wants to unintentionally amuse others, is the unhinged sous chef. Are we to understand that he or she reeks as well? Is the detective purposefully sticking to business, even in the presence of a stinking dead body and a stinking sous chef? Did the sous chef get stinky by moving the dead body, in order to save a beef Wellington in the oven?
As for your post, it’s full of useful suggestions. What’s the worst thing that can happen to a character? The central character in my WIP has lost what’s most important to him, his family and friends. But his own critical nature is what stands in the way of getting them back. How to get my character out of his own way is the problem he faces.
Thanks for sharing your perspective Barry. Interesting riff on the sous chef! And I love this: “…in a way no writer wants to unintentionally amuse others…” So well put! These are things we sometimes can’t see for ourselves.
The premise of your new novel is right up my alley. Eager to read it!
Like Barry, I wondered if the sous chef also stank. That’s what bothered me most about the opening. Since I do read a lot of mysteries, especially police procedurals, I was willing to buy the fact that the detective had something vital to attend to immediately. However, it could’ve been presented a little better. Your rewrite was perfect. And I love your caution about not giving a reader a reason to put down your book. I tell my clients that a lot, especially when they want to keep something in their story that is jarring to the read.
Haha, Maryann! That sous chef! All I would have needed in that first paragraph was a scene goal that suggested (not necessarily explained) there was a reason for her ignoring a pervasive stench and I might have stayed on board.
The first thing that hit me after reading your example was the importance of word choice! How one word can skew a reader in a way you didn’t intend. Promise, words, as Mr. Maass would say. “Ignore’ raised all those questions for me, too.Wonderful post. Kathryn. Thank you!!
Thanks Susan! And word choice is doubly (triply? quadruply?) important at the opening, where the reader has zero context.
I read “ignoring” to mean “behaving as if it wasn’t there” rather than “not noticing”, so it could be an action that takes a lot of effort.
But I did wonder – how does she know that the sous chef is unhinged? And is it his/her stench or behaviour that she is ignoring? It’s the ambiguity of the latter that would have made me put the book down.
Another mark against the sous chef! The most important thing is that the sentence raised all the wrong kinds of questions, as you comment shows. Thanks for it, Hilary!
Such a helpful article. Thank you.
You’re welcome, Barbara!
Goodness Kathryn, you are tough! I appreciated the lessons but this first sentence read fine to my ears (though this isn’t a genre I read much). What I know is that I could trust the narrator–a professional who can ignore the stench of a dead body to do something else more important, I assumed. Her observation about the unhinged sous chef is fine as well.
One of the writing exercises I’ve done (I think it’s from Natalie Goldberg) is I remember/I don’t remember. And it showed me the power of the negative, which ties in very nicely to the lessons you teach. Thank you.
Well, luckily I’m not the one trying to decide if a book gets published—I’m just trying to make sure a manuscript gets a fair read in a tough market—so as a developmental editor, I would flag this and state my concern. A client is always free to “ignore” my opinion (after careful consideration, of course!).
As to your second sentence, it’s interesting that the very thing that tanked my confidence in the narrator is the thing that gained yours, right? Which is great—our differences ensure that there are books for all types of readers. It’s the narrator’s intent to “do something else more important” that could have kept me reading this published novel, but the first page didn’t suggest that another goal was in play.
If I had hung in there, and encountered the word “ignore” later in the novel, once I had more context, I’d know better how to interpret the character’s use of the word by following that negative energy.
Thanks for sharing your opinion, Vijaya!
Thank you. I never thought of What’s the worst thing that could ever happen to my protagonist as a route to what does he want.
It’s worked for me, Bob, and I hope it works for you!
Yeah, count me as another person who wants to know more about that sous chef. Seriously, though, this was a good article. I don’t often get stuck while I’m writing, but if/when I do, I try things like swapping genders, or viewpoints. Your suggestion to find out what your character wants or is “ignoring” is definitely going into my toolbox.
Haha my next novel: The One About the Sound Chef. Swapping genders and viewpoints are great techniques—thanks for sharing, AL!
I meant to comment on this when it ran, Kathryn–terrific insights. I’m sharing in my newsletter.