Posted in Setting, World Building

Out of Setting Comes Action

Tuesday night at the South Bay CWC, I heard Tanya Egan Gibson give a great talk about world building. Now, Tanya doesn’t write fantasy or science fiction. She doesn’t write historical. She writes, in her own words–satire.

Not a genre you necessarily think of as needing a whole lot of world building. But Tanya does. I’m guessing she would say that any genre demands world building.

Because when you build your story world, that world, in turn, steps in to impact, if not drive, what your characters will do.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately, as I do more research about 1910-1915, Chicago. (And, yes, I am SO going to read Kristin O’Donnell Tubb’s Selling Hope, set in 1910 Chicago–just as Hailey’s Comet comes through.) In my first draft, I did research as I wrote, but I was focusing on getting to the story, to Caro’s story, not worrying as much about filling in the world around her. And this was good, because I not only got to the story, I got to two stories, which–overwhelming as it felt at first–was the right discovery for me to make.

But I’ll tell you, it was frustrating to write without setting. I found myself giving Caro and her supporting cast the same tasks over and over. I had her reacting in situations where I didn’t know precisely what she was reacting to…or with, which pretty  much made her feel (at least to me) hyperbolically melodramatic. Yes, that much. I do like the bracket as an early-drafting tool, but by the time I wrote “The End,” I was pretty sick of typing it all over the place.

I can’t write another draft this way. For my sanity, a big piece of Draft 2 is going to be setting research. Or, yep, world building. I am going to populate my notes and my scenes with real furniture, real architecture, real food, real lifestyles. I’ve already started. And you know what?  As I research, as I find out details, I’m getting ideas for the actions my characters will take–things they can do in their world.

During her talk, Tanya said, “If you furnish the place, people can live in it. And they will live large.”

Tanya’s right.

I leave you with this scene from Shanghai Knights. Look at the setting. Look at the way Jackie Chan uses the setting. Yes, sure, he knows the moves he wants to make. He knows the comedy he’s going to weave into the fights. But he also knows that setting can create action, can set up opportunities for anything and everything to become a piece of his choreography. I can just see him–Okay, let’s see. Open market…chase scenes…dodge the carts…duck between people…oh, hey! Lemons! And umbrellas!

Posted in Setting, Uncategorized

Getting Past a Setting Stall

A few posts back, I said that, this year, I was going to try & spend my first hour’s work on my fiction. So far (I know–a whole week!), that’s been going well. Probably because I’ve let myself have some freedom on what “work” means during that hour.

Specifically research settings.

My middle-grade mystery is set in “today,” in Santa Cruz, California–which is about 20 minutes away from my house. We go there frequently, not to all the places I used in my book, but definitely enough that I have a strong sense of how the town looks and the feel of the different communities there. (Things like Keep Santa Cruz Weird bumper stickers help!) So I could write my scenes through a few drafts, without any problem. Then, when I needed to remember how many times I felt like falling over at The Mystery Spot, or what route my MC would really take to the beach, I’d drive over with my camera and get the details right.

I’ve been to Chicago and back. I’ve reminded myself about all the brick–red, yellow, and an incredibly lovely pink—and the trees that maybe weren’t so big back then, but were probably around. But there are places I have never been. Like:

  • The inside of a tenement building
  • The lunchroom for workers in a 1913 department store
  • The particular train station my MC has to visit
  • Up the stairs into the 2nd or 3rd floor apartment OVER the dry-goods shop

What I found during the summer was that, if I have NO idea what my setting looks like, I have a LOT of trouble writing the scene. Even starting to write the scene. So I’m letting myself spend some of that morning hour with books and on the Internet–just looking for enough to let my imagination build something up, something I can play with.

Yes, I’m doing this for scenes that will change, for descriptions that may not even make it to the book. Or even the 2nd draft. But it’s letting me step into the world I’m writing about, back in time, and put some of that world onto the page. For now, that’s a good enough reason for me.

That, and the fact that I wrote an entire chapter last week, one I’m a LOT happier with than the many I wrote over the summer.

How about you? How much setting do you need to take the first step into a scene?

Posted in Critiquing, First Drafts, Setting, Specifics

Concrete, Solid Specifics

A biggie for me, when I edit or critique, is pushing encouraging writers to really get specific and concrete in their writing. You hear a lot about using strong verbs, but I think we also need strong nouns, adjectives, adverbs, conjunctions, articles, you name it.

You hear a lot about using details, and I think sometimes, we get carried away by quantity and forget to really pick and choose the right detail (or two) for the moment. Right to me is the detail, whether I’m working on a setting, a thread of internal thought, an action, or a voice, that hits it just right, that evokes an equally strong, solid response in the reader.

I’ll probably come back to this thread in future posts, so I’m not going to try and cover all the ways I think you can weave specifics into your writing. (I’d overwhelm you, you’d throw something (hopefully soft) at your computer, and you might never come back!) Today, I’m just going to talk about setting.

Read this, please:

The mountain was in front of her, the path going up it through the trees. The wind blew, and clouds moved across the sky, making shadows that made the forest even darker. The air was cold, and she pulled her coat closer around her, trying to shut out the silence as well as the cold. She started walking again, up and up, one foot after the other, ignoring the distance that was left.

Now, this:

The huge stone loomed ahead of her, the path struggling up its chipped, hard surface through the pines. The wind sighed, and gray stormclouds gusted across the sky, casting shadows that turned the forest almost black. The air was icy, and she tugged her parka close around her thin body, hoping to shut out the loud silence, as well as the deep chill. She started climbing again, up and up, one heavy boot after the other, ignoring the height she still faced.

Okay, all I did here, pretty much, was replace a word. I added a few. I may very well have gone overboard, just by playing, but reread the two passages. Which one paints you a more clear picture? Which one brings you closer to the scene this woman is moving through, makes you experience more of what she’s experiencing.

These kinds of details are not something to worry about in a first draft (especially if you’re doing NaNo!). Often, we really do just throw our settings onto the page, giving them a placeholder in the scene where they belong. Later, then, we actively research that setting, go physically to the place we’re describing or send some time with it in our imagination. Your critique group 🙂 can help you with the balance of detail–how much is enough, and how much is…well, too much.

Whatever you settle on, though, every setting deserves revision time, a few passes, to make sure your details are the right ones–strong, sensory specifics.