Monday, June 28, 2010
Setting is an inherent and vital part of all stories. Without a setting that immediately grounds him in the characters’ world, a reader is going to find himself floundering... and the author is, more than likely, going to find himself out of a job. Finding the right descriptive words to bring to life the Wyoming plains, a river in Syria, or the bombed-out streets of war-torn London, requires an excellent grip on the English language, a clear vision of color and space, and a vivid imagination.
In provoking the immediacy of setting, movies have a decided advantage over the lowly novelist. After all, a movie director hardly requires pages of evocative description when he has the ability to simply inundate his viewer with a minute’s worth of color and light and spectacle. In that regard, novelists are at a certain disadvantage compared to their brethren of the silver screen.
But there is one way in which all authors of fiction can share in the cinematographic grounding of setting. And that is in what I term “throwaway settings.” All stories, be they on the written page or the movie screen, possess two kinds of setting: the concrete and the “throwaway.”
Concrete scenes are those that demand a particular kind of setting. Allow me to use three movies as an example. In the 2005 movie Pride & Prejudice, the scene in which Elizabeth Bennett and Fitzwilliam Darcy are reunited after Lizzie’s refusal of his first proposal, could have taken place in no other setting than the sumptuous grounds of Darcy’s Pemberley estate. The Patriot (2000), which took place during the American Revolution, featured innumerable battle scenes that, to be true to historicity, could have taken place nowhere but South Carolina. Likewise, the majority of The Last of the Mohicans, which takes place during the French siege of the English Ft. William Henry, could not conceivably have been set elsewhere.
In these same movies, however, we find many throwaway scenes—scenes that do not demand a particular setting. For instance, the scene in Pride & Prejudice in which Elizabeth refuses Darcy’s proposal could have taken place almost anywhere. In Jane Austen’s book, upon which the movie is based, the scene is acted out in a drawing room. At first glance, nothing can be said against this choice of setting: it’s sensible and realistic. But how much better was the setting chosen by the director of the movie—the opulent monument, in a lush landscape, to which Elizabeth runs to escape the rain? Jane Austen’s original drawing room setting may have gotten across the scene’s point, but the movie’s version explored so many deeper levels of tension and beauty, simply by changing the setting.
In The Patriot, the hero, a militia captain, must select a hidden base camp, from which he can harass the enemy and then melt back into hiding. The writer and director of the movie could easily have gotten away with parking the camp in the middle of a forest. Instead, they chose to set it in a graveyard-cum-swamp, with the headstones lurking half-submerged in the water. In conveying tone, the swamp was far more effective than a simple forest setting could ever have been.
Finally, the splendid sense of setting we find throughout The Last of Mohicans is nowhere more evident than during the prolonged escape scene, in which the heroes launch their empty canoes over a waterfall, then seek a hiding place in the caverns behind the water. Not only does the idea work marvelously in the plot itself, it also manages to submerge the viewer in a mysterious world of mist, water, and shadow, thereby bringing an entirely new and exceptional tone to the scene.
The simple use of setting in all three of these movies proves how easy it is to transform a scene with a few keystrokes. In fact, as authors we are able to make these changes with far greater ease than that of movie producers and directors, who must hunt out strange and interesting locales.
The next time you sit down to write a scene with a throwaway setting—a scene in which the setting is not inherent—stop and think. Could you bring a new level to your scene by adding an interesting or unexpected setting? Changing the setting could add depth to your scene, heighten the tension, and even lead to story angles you never suspected were present. Consider your settings carefully, even those that initially seem unimportant. You never know when you may find an unexpected gem!
K.M. Weiland writes historical and speculative fiction from her home in the sandhills of western Nebraska. She is the author of the historical western A Man Called Outlaw and the recently released medieval epic Behold the Dawn. She blogs at Wordplay: Helping Writers Become Authors and AuthorCulture.
Monday, June 14, 2010
What a Publisher Probably Wants From YouGuest Post by C. Maggie Woychik, Editor for Port Yonder Press
Much of what I write or read about, I do so because I want to, I like the subject, and it’s what I feel I need to do at the time. My topics of choice are a purely subjective matter.
But what does that really mean? I make subjective choices based on individual personal impressions, feelings, and opinions rather than external facts. Every single publisher (and possibly editor) makes subjective choices with every single manuscript that crosses their desk.
What this means for authors is that the very slim chance you have of getting published by a traditional publisher is made even slimmer by a publisher’s or editor’s whims.
Okay, so how can we give ourselves the very best chance for publication within that very narrow slice of possibility? I can think of all the usual ways, ways which you’ve probably heard ad nauseum but bear repeating: write well, have a great proposal and opening chapters, have a spectacular marketing plan, platform, and social networking presence.
Well, is that it? Yes and no. You also want to know the specific genres a given publisher deals with, any nuances they may favor (such as our love of the sea at Port Yonder Press, our love of the unique or literary, our love of the bold and brazen without wallowing in the grimy smut of reality’s seamy side), and it certainly doesn’t hurt to know the editor / publisher on a somewhat personal basis (writing conferences are good for that).
Those are the basics. Now for the specifics of one publishing company, the only one I can address with any authority: mine. And these aren’t “how-to’s” as much as some of this publisher’s whims mentioned above.
1) "Write quickly and you will never write well. Write well, and you will soon write quickly." -Marcus Fabius Quintilianus (i.e., take your time and sculpt that manuscript until it’s worthy of our time and our readers’ time)
2) "I have made this letter longer, because I have not had the time to make it shorter." -Blaise Pascal (i.e., a repeat of point #1)
3) "The ill and unfit choice of words wonderfully obstructs the understanding." -Francis Bacon (i.e., a repeat of points #1 & 2)
4) "There is no great writing, only great rewriting." -Justice Brandeis (i.e., a variation of points #1-3)
5) "There are three rules for writing the novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are." -W. Somerset Maugham (i.e., a separate but similar point to those above: format/method is one thing; good writing is another)
6) “To any aspiring writers out there — write for love, not money. Only a small percentage of writers will ever be published but that should not deter people from pursuing their dream of writing a book. There is a great sense of achievement to be had from writing one's own book regardless of whether it becomes a commercial success [or not].” –Philip Tatham (i.e., write from your heart; write when you feel no one will read it; write not to impress but to do what you must)
We are looking for the best books we can find. Period. If you write a good story but won’t take the time to make it better than just good, don’t submit to us.
If you’re finicky, hard to work with, have unresolved relationships around you (believe it or not, this *does* show up in the subtleties of a manuscript), find another publisher. We want authors we can live and work with, authors who have shown themselves disciplined and pliable.
Lasso your artistic temperament and funnel it into busting the bronco of mediocre writing: train it to produce works of lasting merit, works which will outlast all of us.
For the specifics, visit our comprehensive site at www.PortYonderPress.com and contact me if you still have a lingering question rolling around in your brain. Contact@PortYonderPress.com.
Maggie, thanks so much for sharing with us today!
Until next time,