Give Me Layers!
By Vaughn Roycroft | August 26, 2024 |
I’ve been noticing something about my current read. Something that stands in contrast to the majority of the dozen or so works of fiction I’ve finished reading this summer. I know you’ve seen the title, so I won’t dilly-dally in telling you that the story I’m referencing is deeply and richly layered. I’ll spare you the onion and parfait analogies that Shrek and Donkey have already belabored. What’s the book, you ask? Fortune’s Fool, by Angela Boord—a historical epic fantasy set in an Italianate world of feudal Houses, led by powerful competing families at a time when the introduction of firearms to their rivalries is changing everything.
The opening is lush with seamlessly woven detail in the world-building and character development, and yet the story’s setup feels straightforward enough. At first you might mistake it for a mere revenge tale. We experience the story via the first-person perspective of Kyrra d’Aliente—the daughter of one of the powerful Householders. Restless and rebellious as she comes of age, Kyrra allows herself to be seduced by the visiting son of the Aliente’s most ambitious rival family. When she finds herself with child and still out of wedlock, she’s pressured by her mother to dose herself to terminate the pregnancy—a “crime” seized upon by her family’s rivals. Kyrra is punished by disfigurement (a severed arm) and banishment to a nameless serfdom. Through adept nonlinear storytelling, we come to know Kyrra’s alter ego: Kyris di Nada—disguised as a male, and outfitted with a magical metal arm, Kyrra becomes a mercenary soldier, fighting in foreign wars.
Sounds layered already, doesn’t it? The book’s a chonker (770 pages) and I’m about 70% through. The prose is beautifully written and the pace is decidedly unhurried. Perfect, since I’m luxuriating in it–in no hurry to be done. I think we often conflate being slower with being less compelling. Not true here.
The steady, slow-burn pace of this book got me thinking about what so insistently compels my page-turning. I’ve decided it’s intrigue over the ongoing discovery of seemingly endless new layers. I want to know more about so many aspects of this story. There’s a smoldering love story between Kyrra and a mysterious fellow mercenary, who may or may not be the source of the magic that animates Kyrra’s metal arm, thereby imbuing her with that same magic. Better still, it’s unclear whether the magic is a boon or a curse. There’s political back-stabbing, double-agent duplicity, an interfering trickster god, a kidnapping with an occasionally willing hostage, and a quest wrapped up in an assassination plot, all contributing to a deepening mystery. I’m even sensing the makings of an unlikely found family. The further we go, the more we grasp that Kyrra is—and always has been—a pawn in the grand game of the powerful and ruthlessly ambitious Householders.
Every time I think I’ve got a handle on all of the story elements Boord has me juggling, she tosses me another. Yes, it’s challenging. And yes, it’s compelling, thought-provoking, and inspiring. And fun!
Stuff Happens
I said that Fortune’s Fool stands in contrast to much of the crop of my summer reads, which is not to say I didn’t enjoy any of the others. Most of them had unique settings and interesting characters. Several of them provided a galloping pace, and I’ve experienced dozens of exciting actions sequences. A few of them had satisfying character arcs. As I say, I enjoyed reading them. Still, I have a feeling that by this time next year, I’ll have trouble recalling much about any of them.
In contrast, before I’m even finished with Fortune’s Fool, I’m all but certain that I won’t be forgetting this story or these characters any time soon.
What’s the difference? A simple series of events that has an effect on a protagonist can undeniably be called a story. Protagonist is incited, stuff happens, protagonist is changed–The End. Look, I love all sorts of stories. I want to continue reading them—lots and lots of stories. But as I get older, I’m gaining a growing appreciation of just how precious the hours available to be allotted to reading truly are. I’m also gaining an appreciation for being invited by stories to deep feelings and contemplation. I want to maximize the percentage of stories that will leave a lasting impression.
What I am not saying is that I think all stories should be complex, or that all prose should be lushly written and unhurried. What I’m talking about goes beyond those things.
When I speak of being layered, I’m talking about a reading experience that better resembles an unfolding archaeological dig than mere tourism. I want to be challenged to piece together meaning—meaning that morphs and expands. Meaning that sometimes misleads before doubling back to deepen what is initially only partially perceived.
When I ask for layers, give me stuff like:
*External conflicts that mirror internal ones
*External conflicts that mask internal ones
*Motives that lead astray of goals
*Goals that can’t solve inner longing
*Allegory internal to the story
*Recurring dissonance that leads to resonance
*Oddities that accumulate to culminate in explanation
*Forgettable clues that reassemble into an entwined revelation
*Symbolism that moves from illuminating to powerfully moving
Make me suspect one ending only to realize how perfect an utterly divergent ending is. Heck, you can leave me with mere hints as to how things fully resolve beyond The End. As long as you show me how the character(s) is (are) changed by the story.
Give me action that thrusts me to revelation, even if it requires my discomfort to get there. Offer up elements of magic or wonder that beguile or confound more than they simplify or solve. Give me tempo that lulls or soothes only to jar me awake by suddenly shifting.
I want to be led to reveals and resolutions that have me kicking myself for not seeing them coming. I want to marvel over my inability to fully grasp a story’s purpose until I’m sitting in stunned silence with the finished book in my lap. As I say, leave me thinking and feeling—enchanted by a glimpse at an understanding of what it means to be human.
What’s It Take?
Believe me, I know that crafting a layered tale is anything but simple. Heck, writing a story that makes enough sense to allow a reader to merely navigate to its resolution is tough enough. The sort of storytelling I’m describing requires a mastery I’ve spent two decades chasing.
Notice I only claim to have chased it. I make no claims about achieving the sort of layering that compels the reading experience I crave. I know I strive to write the books I long to read. But I also know that the art of providing such an experience for others is a lifelong pursuit. And that determining success is best left to readers. I will say that I’ve aspired to it long enough to realize that none of what I describe above can be achieved while drafting on the blank page. These are connections and epiphanies and enhancing undercurrents that can only be gained through revision, and the incorporation of feedback, and deep thought. All followed by re-revision. Followed by more deep thought and re-re-revision. And so on.
Indeed, I’d be shocked to learn that Boord didn’t do dozens of revisions on Fortune’s Fool over a lengthy period. But then, maybe she’s a story genius. Most of us are not.
If I could give one bit of advice to aspiring (non-genius) novelists, it’s this: Take your time. Do the work.
There’s a heady feeling gained by finishing a draft. It can be intoxicating enough to convince even the most rational of us to want to submit or publish immediately. Don’t rush it!
Allow yourself the time and thought and distance to create a richly layered story, with deeply developed characters. A story that will leave us marveling—thinking and feeling long after we’ve closed your book, sure that we’ve glimpsed a newfound understanding of humanity.
Meanwhile, I’ll be chasing my own version of mastery right alongside you. The third book in my trilogy will be released soon. I’m hoping that there will be those who find that the resolution provides a worthy experience.
I’m in no rush to publish books four through six. You see, I’m reminding myself by reminding you—it takes time to achieve compelling layering.
How about you, WU? Do you prefer onions or parfaits? Do you enjoy richly layered storytelling? Can you think of an example of a layered story that you’ve recently loved?
Vaughn Roycroft’s (he/him) teacher gave him a copy of The Hobbit in the 6th grade, sparking a lifelong passion for reading and history. After college, life intervened, and Vaughn spent twenty years building a successful business. During those years, he and his wife built a getaway cottage near their favorite shoreline, in a fashion that would make the elves of Rivendell proud. After many milestone achievements, and with the mantra ‘life’s too short,’ they left their hectic lives in the business world, moved to their little cottage, and Vaughn finally returned to writing. Now he spends his days striving to finish his epic fantasy series.
Thanks, Vaughn, for aiming high in your writing, for taking the time (and expending the labor) to do so, and for sharing with us so many worthy aspects of what that richness encompasses. So much here for us to think about in embracing your challenge to “chase the mastery.” Your words greatly motivate me to stay in the hunt.
Ah, that’s the best I could hope for, to provide motivation. Thank you, Thomas! Here’s to staying in the hunt!
Beautiful and informative, Vaughn. Revision, feedback, deep thought. Then more of the same and more of the same. I feel as both a writer and a reader that writing this kind of tale is the worthiest of pursuits. I’m filing this wonderful post in the Craft folder for the days (and they are many) when I need a reminder.
Huzzah! I’m delighted to remind you as I remind myself, my friend. Thanks, Susan!
The parfait is good when you just want to get away for a bit and be done with it and move on. The onion is one you savor. As you said, you don’t want it to be finished. Staying with the characters for as long as you can, you take your time and become part of the story. I enjoy books like that and am one of those who buy them in hardcover so I can really enjoy the read.
And writers are different. Some like writing parfait and have no intention of ever playing with an onion since the layering takes too long and requires a different set of skills. I get it. I write parfait and small onion stories with not quite so many layers. But again, you have to learn how and practice and practice some more on how to add those layers. And man, it’s worth it when you get it right.
Hey Barbara — You clearly have a great grasp of layering, and I agree that sometimes you just want to read, or write, a parfait story. We need simplicity and sweetness somethings. But, yeah, we also need that rich story stew that onion layers bring. Excellent addition to the conversation! Thanks so much.
I recently realized how far I still have to go in the layering department (never mind a few other departments). Thank you for the timely post… and I just ordered “Fortune’s Fool”.
Well, LK, I beg to differ–you’re already ahead of the pack when it comes to well-layered storytelling. I can’t wait to buy and read your books! Hope you enjoy Kyrra’s story as much as I am. Thanks for weighing, and for striving alongside, my friend!
It takes time to do this, and it takes something else: plotting.
When I finish Pride’s Children (trilogy, two down, one to go), it will be about a half-million words, and all of it is connected, layered, each piece irreplaceable. For me it was essential to have a solid structure underneath, as I can only write a small piece – about a scene’s worth – at a time.
If you want an inevitable-feeling ending to an improbable premise, it has to be built in. Think Rube Goldberg.
Hi Alicia — You’re so right! Without the proper foundation–best laid down in writing–a story can’t stand under its own weight. I know you’ve spent the time and done the work. Here’s to constructing our Rube Goldbergs–may they always provide an inevitable-feeling. Thank you!
Vaughn, great post. Even in a picture book, I enjoy having layers. It’s so much more satisfying. But yes, it takes time. Some stories come quickly and others come slowly, with each iteration deepening the story, layer by layer. One of my favorite writing books is The Art of Slow Writing by Louise deSalvo. I think you might enjoy it very much.
Hey Vijaya — I was recently working in our local library, and was just thinking about how much must go into picture books (I’m a terrible volunteer, as I end up reading at least part of every book I touch, lol). They’re so deceptively simple! But making them that way must take a LOT of thought and work.
I’ll check out deSalvo’s book, for sure! Thanks for the recommendation, and an excellent addition to the conversation.
Awesome post. I’m thinking about how to create layers. It strikes me that there are two things to know: 1) There is always more to add, 2) There is stuff that the reader doesn’t need to know—not yet.
The thing is, I the author don’t always know what the “more” is. I may not even know—yet—what it is that I may withhold from the reader. But that’s okay. I’ll figure it out. As you say, Mr. Roycroft, that is what sustained work on a manuscript is for.
Never being satisfied. Knowing that there is always more. You are right on the money, sir, and I really appreciate the challenge of your post today.
Hey Benjamin — Well, if there’s anyone that I totally trust to put in the time and seek to get more out of a manuscript, it’s you. Thanks for the great addition to the conversation. Thanks for inspiring the rest of us to do the work, too. You’re an excellent role model!
What a great post! Your description of your reading experience moves me to try that book, though I don’t usually take on anything of that genre or volume, and your list of the elements and qualities you, as a reader want, is eye-opening.
I write mysteries and retell myths, and I would be forever indebted if a reader of those genres provided me with such a list. Not that I could deliver, but it would be something to work toward. Forever! That list is out there somewhere, and it will probably be easier to find than the grail. Excelsior!
Thank you so much.
Hey Bob! Fingers crossed you enjoy Fortune’s Fool! I think it’s a pretty good one for non-genre readers like you. It’s so rooted in history. I wish you the very best with your quest. It’s a worthy lifelong pursuit, this gig–isn’t it? Excelsior!
Thanks for your kind words, and an excellent addition to the conversation.
Vaughn, your energetic discussion of layers has induced me to pay more attention to a fiction project that I had tucked away into hiding but whose characters keep pestering me for attention like a squad of two-year-olds. The premise and some narrative outlines came to me several years ago, but I lacked the confidence and skill to develop them, especially because I wanted (and still want) to use multiple POVs. So off they went to the back shelf. Recently all five characters (four living, one long dead) have returned to haunt me with their motives and vulnerabilities and actions (layers, layers!). Not wishing to abandon the basic four in my lifetime, or confront a reproachful fifth in the afterlife, I am now inviting them to tell me more. Thanks.
Yay, Anna! It makes me so happy to hear that I’ve been even the tiniest part of your passion for your fiction. I know about being haunted by characters. Know that you will not win! They will have their way. May as well surrender. And well before facing that reproachful fifth one, lol.
Thanks much for the heart-hug. Great hearing from you, my friend!
First, kudos on your premise today, which for me is focused here: “But as I get older, I’m gaining a growing appreciation of just how precious the hours available to be allotted to reading truly are … an appreciation for being invited by stories to deep feelings and contemplation.” Me, too. I love it when a story makes me sit and think.
And now for something completely different: I laughed at your reply to Vijaya about what a terrible library volunteer you were, because you couldn’t help looking into every book. At least you were a volunteer. Twice in my life I landed “book” jobs–once in a used-book (and comics!) warehouse and once in a museum bookstore. I was gently kicked out of both jobs, because for some reason I never seemed to be keeping up with the work.
Hey Michael — I’m not sure I can call it the blithe life, but I do think there’s a benefit to beginning to see life experiences as finite. Makes us choose a bit more wisely, and appreciate more deeply.
Luckily our little library’s hierarchy doesn’t come with much supervision, or I’d be long gone. I spent half of my last shift going through a 50 y.o. local history book. It’s funny how that perspective makes you appreciate your surroundings in a new light. I mean, we–the current residents–were not the first here, facing many of these same issues, and feeling many of these same emotions. It’s sort of humbling. In a good way.
Thanks, as always, for weighing in. I love hearing from you! Hope you’re well.
Hi, Parfait or onion. That’s spot on; I love it. Parfaits are great when you’re tired and don’t want to think. I have lots of them on my shelves. I buy them, read them, and forget them. The onions, on the other hand, I remember. They force me to work. I have to puzzle out what’s really going on. Those stories get me up in the middle of the night to see EXACTLY what words the author used in a scene so I can see if my theories are supported. The onions are the stories I read again and again.
Hi Bill! Oh, I so agree that we need those sort of mindless stories. Feelings in the moment, even those we know will swiftly be forgotten, are still worthy feelings. But yeah, those darn onions. Grappling with those layers is the stuff of being human. I commend you for your diligence in striving to grasp the mechanics. I predict it’ll pay huge dividends.
Thanks for weighing in. Wonderful to hear from you. Hope the writing is going well!
Team Onion, all the way! I keep circling back to the idea of caramelization. Slowly caramelizing onions transforms sharpness into something deeply savory, just as slowly developing characters and plot throughout the course of a story builds depth and complexity. I’m certainly also Team Slow.
Speaking of which: Sorry for the lateness of my comment. I think it’s been caramelizing.
Damn, T — Caramelization! I mean, talk about transformative. Taking something biting, acerbic–even stinging–and making it so enriching, enhancing, providing flavor notes from smokey, woodsy, to even a hint of molasses sweetness. It allows those oniony layers to add as many flavor notes as, say… a fine whisky!
Leave it to the Storywhisperer, to inspire me, and root me on to cooking up something complex. :)
I always love hearing from you whenever it happens. As always, thanks a million. You’re forever enriching my life, my friend.
This layering task seems to be impossible–as you probably already know. But, I love this line and will put it up to reread it as I go through another round of reading my about-to-go-out-the door book: “Show how me how the character(s) is (are) changed by the story.”
Thanks for spurring us on/making us dig deeper.
Hey Carol — I’m so glad that the piece lifted your spirits and encouraged you dig deeper. It always helps to know we can take things one step at a time. Wishing you the best with the new book!
“If I could give one bit of advice to aspiring (non-genius) novelists, it’s this: Take your time. Do the work.”
Thank you for this.
Why are we always in a hurry? I’ve never been a fast writer, and life has forced me to slow down even more in the past ~8 years (Happy birthday to my oldest!) and I am still learning to embrace it.
As for layers, I agree 100%. I can enjoy a simple story, the same as I can enjoy a meal from McDonald’s. (Truly! Not an insult!) But what an experience when you treat yourself to fine dining, right? Luckily a richly layered book is much less expensive, and doesn’t require a babysitter either!
Hello, my friend! So lovely to hear from you. I fully agree with your McDonald’s metaphor. There’s nothing like devouring a nice cheeseburger once in a while. Sure, the experience is over pretty quickly, but in those few minutes, there’s some really decadent enjoyment going on. And yes, fine dining is a whole other experience–one to be savored slowly. Life is about mixing it up!
Hope y’all are enjoying some really unique dining experiences… including birthday cake! Here’s to non-hurried creation. Thanks a million!