Don’t Try This at Home: Difficult Structural Elements and the First-Time Novelist
By Guest | April 11, 2011 |
Kath here. Please welcome Alma Katsu to WU today. Her debut novel The Taker, which releases today in the U.K. by Random House and will be followed by a U.S. release in September by Simon & Schuster, straddles both historical and supernatural fiction, and is getting great advanced reviews:
“An astonishing good read from start to finish… Completely draws you in…”
—The Book Bag UK
“…a frightening compelling story about those most human monsters—desire and obsession…”
—Keith Donohue, NYT bestselling author
Watch her incredible book trailer here.
Alma’s book is out-of-the-box creatively, and we thought her perspectives would fit nicely with our own unboxed approach to fiction. Emjoy!
Once upon a time, I had a day job where, in order to rise above a certain level in your field, you had to write a thesis-like research paper that was then graded by a committee. I sat on so many of these committees that after a while I was asked to review appeals. What surprised me about the appeals was that the vast majority of papers didn’t fail because they were poorly done: they failed because they were too ambitious. The candidate wanted to write something that had never been done before. They wanted to knock our socks off. Many times, as I listened to the candidates’ stories of woe, the phrase reach exceeds grasp ran through my head. The whole purpose of the exercise was to show a good grasp of fundamentals. Master the basics, we’d tell them, and once you’re able to do this, go ahead and wow us.
As I worked on my debut novel The Taker and participated in critique groups, conferences and workshops, I began to feel this way about my own work. My reach surely exceeded my grasp. It is hard enough to learn to write a novel without making it harder on yourself. The problem was that I had a complex story; there might’ve been ways to simplify it but I wasn’t strong enough as a writer to know how to do that. That’s one reason it took ten years to get to a publishable book.
I’m going to concentrate on two major but common problems I had to deal with in writing The Taker:
1. Difficult protagonist: The number one problem writing The Taker was main character’s “likability.” Publishers are loathe to take on a main character that risks alienating readers. Writers struggle to interpret what this means, I think. Some feel that it means the main character has to be likable. Or does it mean she has to be sympathetic? Is it enough that the reader can understand the character’s motives even if the character does something the reader would never consider? Some readers won’t tolerate the slightest culpability in their protagonist, but then the author runs the risk of having a passive protagonist, the hapless individual to whom things always happen through no fault of their own. We have little patience for these people in real life, suspecting they’re not as blameless as they appear (“you can’t make your share of the rent again?”) and, I suspect, unless they are expertly drawn, readers become impatience with them in the world on the page as well.
Personally, I prefer rounded characters with some grit to them. If you take away every aspect that any reader could find objectionable, you end up with a bland character. One of my favorite unsympathetic characters is Lachlan Harriot, the protagonist in Scottish crime writer Denise Mina’s Deception. At the opening of the book, Harriot comes off as an arrogant, hapless slacker whose wife is blamed for the murder of a paroled serial killer who was in her care. The book brilliantly turns this immensely unlikable character into a sympathetic one; it is a study in character development. (While the book was an artistic success, it was not without risk for the author and was not universally liked by Mina’s fans.)
In The Taker, we meet Lanore McIlvrae, the protagonist, when she is very young. She is desperate to grow up but doesn’t know how to get what she wants. Like many young people, she makes some poor choices, is sometimes selfish and causes others to suffer, but in the end is given a chance to redeem herself. What helped get readers past Lanore’s selfishness (as well as for Harriot in Deception) was to use first person POV and be ruthless in showing her internal monologue, to reveal her motives, doubts and misgivings, so that readers can see that she is not so different from them.
2. Ground your reader in time and place: You don’t want to disrupt your reader’s “continuous dream” while reading, but one almost surefire way to do this is for your reader to be confused about where she is in the story. Keeping your story moving chronologically is probably the best option, unless a complex timeline is essential to the telling of the story. In the case of the latter, consider plotting out a detailed timeline to refer back to, as I believe Audrey Niffenegger did for The Time Traveler’s Wife, an amazing example of how to juggle time in a novel. Consider that not only does this story jump in and out of the linear timeline but the scenes, which are snippets of time, are all fairly similar – the same characters, similar settings, similar emotions evoked, in other words not a lot to differentiate them in a reader’s mind – and yet the reader always knows where she is in the story.
The Taker had a similar problem: the story starts in the present day and has a present day story running through it, but most of the story is set two hundred years in the past, and smack in the middle of everything is a chunk that occurs even earlier, by three hundred years. I used some simple but effective means to clue the reader in, such as labeling the year and location of the action in each chapter, but made sure to keep each of those three timelines chronological.
Whenever you have multiple timelines in a story, verb tense will be an issue. Two hundred pages of past perfect tense (“he had thought those days were over”) will slow down your story and suck the life out of it, so you need to make a rule for yourself (I will use regular past tense and only use the past perfect when referring to a past action within the context of this scene) and adhere to it strictly.
Obviously I’m being a little tongue-in-cheek when I say writers should avoid these problems when crafting that first novel. A story is what it is, and it’s in tackling these challenges that magic sometimes occurs, such as the case of The Time Traveler’s Wife. But these difficult structural elements can also prove to be the undoing of a tale, or a setback as the author figures out how to make this particular challenge work. In the course of writing The Taker, I wrote four other novels, and in the process became a better writer, and eventually figured out how to make those difficult aspects work.
And in the end, it’s probably best that our reach continues to exceed our grasp than the other way around, as we strive to make the next book a more satisfying experience for the reader than the one we’ve finished.
Many thanks to today’s guest.
You can read more WU guest posts by visiting this link.
This post resonated with me completely, because I did the same with my first novel. My reach was too high, and it took me a long time and a lot fo work to fix the novel. But the learning experience was terrific.
This novel sounds wonderful and I’m off to browse for it now!
Judy (South Africa)
As a reader, I enjoy novels that break traditional plot molds. I’m a huge fan of Kate Morton, who regularly employs the multi-period plot. Kate Mosse and M J Rose are other multi-period favorites of mine. I think readers enjoy the complexity.
I can’t wait to read THE TAKER!
Great post, and gorgeous cover, btw!
I think a lot of people throw things into their story like a jambalaya — multiple POVs, jumps in time, emails, etc. — but the question is: Does that best serve the story? Like you say, it’s okay to reach high, as long as (a) you figure out how to achieve it, and (b) it’s what the story requires. Otherwise you’re just going to end up with a bunch of crazy flavors and ingredients that don’t go together.
Sounds like you cooked up a good dish, though! Thanks for sharing some of the recipe. :)
(Okay, okay, I’m done with my big metpahor.)
First off, I agree, what a great post, Alma! I want to look at my protagonist again to find where I might be able to add in a little grit (I think she’s lacking).
And, Kristan, I love your comment about how the jambalaya writer. I’ve been considering multiple POVs in my WIP right now, and your question, of whether or not it (whatever “it” is) would best serve the story, certainly helps me in making that decision.
Fabulous post! I am writing a book that my crit group says is “ambitious.” They assure me this is a good thing but I often wonder if I shouldn’t just hand the novel over to someone wiser. But I carry on–diligently researching, drawing on common human emotions and editing ruthlessly. Thanks for the inspiration.
I wonder about this often — have I bitten off more than I can chew? Am I just not able to fix this book because I don’t have the skills yet?
Lots to think about here. Thanks for the post!
I worry about people liking my characters the same way a mother would when sending her child off to school! It’s rough, especially since it’s so objective.
I like the idea of using first person POV to take care of the problem. Now that I think of it, I’ve identified with many unlikable characters via 1st person.
When I started my first novel, I had two ideas at once and I picked the easiest one to start with for the same reason: not biting off more than I can chew. I don’t think ideas should ever be shelved because they are too hard, but I think it’s good to wait until you’re ready for it.
Good post… you gave me a lot to think about!
I have a potentially dislikable character in my novel and I reconcile that with hopefully portraying where that comes from…and how it plays into who she is. I think if a character can be understood – he or she can be somewhat dislikable.
Maybe.
Very good advice. I’m struggling with issues of time and structure in my own novel at the moment, but this post just made me realise that I need to make my protagonist a bit more active instead of passive in her decision makings…
Oh yes, and congratulations on your publication, Alma! The cover looks beautiful.
Let me join the ranks of Kate Morton lovers! When it comes to novels that jump around, I often find myself more interested in on part of the story line. I tend to get frustrated when the plot moves into a (for me) less compelling timeframe. Morton does this so well, however, that I don’t notice!
I struggled with time/structure in my novel. After several versions I decided to keep the story linear. The story seemed to flow more naturally that way.
Thanks for sharing your experience and good luck with your book! Looks great!!
One of the hardest things about writing is having a vision in your head that you can’t translate properly to the page–like something happens between your brain and your fingers. So frustrating. Great that you struggled and worked–and wrote four other novels! I think that’s really the way to do it, even if it’s unintentional at the time. First novels are hard. So are second, third and fourth but what you learn writing them can help you go back to the first and make it better.
Congrats on your book!
Thanks everyone for the kind words! And the best of luck wrestling your stories to the ground and into submission. It is so worth it.
Thank you to Therese and Kathleen for the guest post! WU is one of my absolute favorite blogs. I devour it everyday.
I’ve only recently begun studying structure and plot. It can seem overwhelming and unnatural reading about scene purposes and sequences. It’s important to remember that the first draft should be a deluge of creativity, freely flowing. It is later during the revision process that complications and structure, as excellent tools of the trade, should be wielded to create the polished finish.
Thank you for your advice!
Great post! I enjoy reading novels that jump around a bit, but it DOES have to be done well. But for my first novel, after thinking about approaching it many, many, ways, I decided that linear was best. Unfortunately, that didn’t necessarily make it easier. ;-)
I’m heading into a rewrite soon, and have to wrestle an alligator in the form of protagonist likability. It’s so nice to so many others here grappling with the same issues. Makes me feel less alone.
Timely post for me, Alma, and a good one. Congrats on The Taker. I’ll watch for its US release.
Having big goals and trying to reach beyond your grasp can be great for learning experiences, but one would probably be wisest to pursue the endeavor with the mindset that this is an experiment, a chance to learn, and that one might need to scale back–for now, until one’s grasp is stronger–in order to make the story work. It’s a fine point to reach, and requires weighing of how far is too far to be pulled off at the current moment and how easy is too easy and will prevent growth. If one does reach really far the first time through, one should just be prepared to look over the work when it’s done with a meticulous eye and be merciless.
(That’s a lot of “one should”s for one paragraph. How stuffy I sound!)
This gave me something to think about with regard to my next book because so far my main characters have been perhaps too likable. Maybe I ought to change that up a little now that I’ve got some writing “under my belt” so to speak.
Thank you for the great blog post!
Patti
Thanks so much for this! I have recently started re-writing a suspense novel I put aside three or four years ago after several agents rejected it as “well written but too ambitious.” At the time, I couldn’t see how that could be a bad thing. I like complicated stories, but perhaps there’s a limit to the number of subplots and supporting characters that can work in a tale told from a single character’s point of view.
A mistake is to assume that because a protagonist is “sympathetic” — like us — that the reader will atomatically bond. Not true.
There are techniques for introducing everyman, heroic or dark protagonists in ways that cause the reader to immediately care. I’ve taught and written about those. Briefly, the methods involve showing or suggesting to us how those protagonists are respectively strong, human or longing for change.
Dark protabonists in particular may present as lousy people who later redeem, but if a reader bothers to keep going with such a character for hundreds of pages, believe me the author has found a way to cause the reader (through that character) to hope that he/she will grow, change and become whole.
[…] recently read an article about this by debut author Alma Katsu, and the mistake that many first time writers make – having a reach that exceeds their grasp. It totally resonated with my experience from last […]