I started my scribing life as a playwright creating murder comedies like The Body in the Buggy Room and Up The Creek. It was something I did for fun. I joined an amateur theatre group and I learned all about stage direction, what the audience could see and how much the actors really needed to know.
But thanks to two writerly friends I recently realised that you need to toss the stage direction out the window when you’re writing a novel – you need to immerse yourself in the scene.
Alison Reynolds, author of the very popular Ranger In Danger series and many other great reads and Bren MacDibble author of numerous compelling books and short stories for children and young adults both had some invaluable advice for me.
I wanted the scene with black roots to be more menacing and I’ve marked other scenes where I’ve wanted more drama.
When I looked back at the scenes Alison was talking about, I could see what she meant. I had put people in places instead of allowing them to go there of their own free will – to find their own way to react to what was happening around them. These scenes were static – they lacked emotion, they lacked realism, they lacked drama and they lacked spark.
Descriptions on the move as the characters interact with the landscapes, rooms, building may need to be focussed on as well as watching that the stage direction doesn’t overwhelm the narrative or become robotic.
They were both right. You need to let your characters make their own moves and inhabit the world you have created for them.
WHAT NOT TO DO – FROM AN EARLIER DRAFT
To show you what I mean, here’s an example of a static scene – even though the characters are moving, it’s forced and not dynamic enough – not enough emotion and tension for the scene.
Dad looks at me miserably “That’s just what I’m afraid of. You don’t see what he’s doing to you – to all of us. It has to stop somewhere. He has to start taking responsibility for his actions.”
Mum tries to side step past him. “We are responsible for his actions. It’s what we let happen that caused this.”
Dad moves to the side. “Go then. Just go. But if you leave now, don’t bother coming back.”
Dad has just about stirred the bottom out of his coffee cup. He lifts it to his mouth and peers at me through the steam. “That’s what I’m afraid of. You don’t see what he’s doing to you – to all of us.”
The oven timer rings. Mum slams or hand on it and the ringing stops, but the vibrations still echo through the room. Dad stands next to me while I take my pizza out of the oven. It looks cooked but I don’t feel like eating it now.
“Shit!’ I burn my finger on the tray and just about drop the pizza on Dad’s foot.
“Sarah!” Mum jangles the car keys in her hand.
Dad takes the pizza from me and puts it on the sink. I run my finger under the cold tape and Dad turns to Mum. “See what Ed does to this family.”
“This wasn’t Ed’s fault, Dad. I burnt myself.”
Dad takes the pizza cutter from the drawer and starts slicing, just about cuts a hole in the tray. “This business with Ed has to stop somewhere. He has to take responsibility for his actions.”
Mum slams a plate on the bench next to Dad. “But we’re responsible for this! We’re the ones who let it happen.”
Let what happen? I keep running my finger under the cold tap, try to stop the pain.
Dad slides the sawed pizza onto the plate and slams it down hard on the kitchen table. He points to the door. “Go then, just go,” he yells at Mum. “But if you leave now, don’t bother coming back.”
In this new scene I tried to incorporate more of what you would expect to be going on during the conversation – the background stuff – the sort of detail that helps put the reader into the scene and make it more real.
Thanks Alison and Bren for your help.
I hope that sharing this with my blog readers might have helped you too.