Tag: Details

Posted in Uncategorized

The Devil’s Not in the Details. The Delight’s in the Details.

Posted on by beckylevine

I dare you: Try saying that blog-post title ten times fast.

Anyhoo…

I just finished reading Elissa Brent Weissman’s Nerd Camp. If I hadn’t seen that the book was a finalist in the Middle-Grade category of the Cybils awards, I might not have picked it up. The premise of (another) kid feeling guilty and embarrassed about his geeky/nerdy pleasures didn’t pull at me. But I SO trust the Cybils judges. I put in on my Please-Give-Me-Some-of-These-Ebooks-for-Xmas list and, voila, it was waiting for me my inbox Xmas morning.

The premise still isn’t what makes the book, for me, anyway. Gabe is getting a new step-brother, and the boys get along great at their first meeting, except that Zack is pretty much a downer on school, reading, math teams–all the things that make Gabe’s life happy. And this meeting is just before Gabe takes off for six weeks of sleep-away camp–Gifted Camp. Or Geek Camp. Depending on your perspective. Gabe’s debate about keeping his geekdom secret or potentially risking his friendship with this new step-bro isn’t, as I said, all that new. What makes the book so fun, in my opinion, is all the details Weissman chooses to show us the humor, fun, excitement, and sheer happiness of geekitude. Little things, like, just before Gabe’s big lake adventure (that’s as much as you’re getting–no spoilers!), his timid bunkmate gives him “an article from National Geographic Kids about what causes rapids, which was informative.” Because, you know, there are so many rapids in a lake. But the detail fits perfectly with the “Just in Case” personality of this bunkmate. And note that Gabe sees it as “informative,” not necessarily helpful. That’s not a negative, for Gabe and his friends; they’re just assigning the article a different value. Happily.

Gabe starts a chart of things he can tell Zack in a letter–the things that make the camp seem cool–with another column of the things he can’t tell Zack without revealing the true nerdosity of the events/activities. Again, this could have been a chart that didn’t get me–it could have been trite, cliché, already done. Why was it so very much not that? Because Weissman does such a beautiful job of summarizing, precis-ing, nailing the details of the chapters we’ve just read and putting them into Gabe’s chart notes. Every time, in every column, she picks the perfect detail to make the event sound exciting, adventurous and so rockingly awesome that Zack will be seething with jealousy. And then in the next column she details the geek factor that, if Gabe were to share it with Zack, would yank the coolness mask right off.

I had a fun time reading the book, with lots of laughs and lots of “Oh, yeahs.” I also really loved Gabe and his friends, all the campers, because the stuff they were doing was so cool, but mostly because of the sheer fun and laughter they got out of doing it. I wanted to be involved in pretty much everything. Okay, maybe not  memorizing all those digits of Pi. But the Breaking of Color Wars?! You bet! (No, I’m not telling you about that? Go read the book!)

After I finish this post, I’ll be sitting down to shuffle through the sections of my Capstone history book, look at my notes, think about the info I’ve gleaned, and…yeah. Pick the details. The details that will show what was going on way back when, that will highlight events in an action in a way that will catch both my young readers and me. (If I don’t engage, believe me–the kids reading the book won’t either.) And I have to share those details in a way that, like Weissman’s writing, gets some kind of emotional reaction out of my readers. That reaction may not be laughter, but it better be something–interest, intrigue, curiosity, an eye-opening Really?!

Delight.

How about a little Share-and-Tell in the comments. What book can you think of, that you’ve read in the past few years, that had serious power in the details. A book in which the author picked and chose beautifully. A book you still remember, because of those details. The list will be more fodder for our 2013 reading lists!

Posted in Uncategorized

From Concept to Specific: Hunting the Perfect Detail

Posted on by beckylevine

No, it’s not quite like hunting snipe.

But it matters a lot more.

Yes, I’m working on a picture-book revision this week, so the detail problem is more in my face than when I’m writing early draft thoughts about the YA WIP. But still…it’s relevant for all writing, I think.

Yesterday, on Facebook, Hélène Boudreau said she was craving s’mores. And then she posted this picture:

Look at that. Is that a chocolate bar over which the marshmallow is melting? It is not. It’s a peanut-butter cup.

Besides making me drool crazily and want to run right out to the store for supplies, what does the peanut-butter cup do? It changes the whole thing. If you’re like me and you love peanut butter, not to mention peanut butter inside chocolate, it makes the whole idea of a s’more so much better, I’ll never go back. (Now if someone would just come up with a replacement for those dry graham crackers!) If you are someone who doesn’t like peanut-butter cups (seriously?!), it might make you shake your head in dismay. If you have peanut allergies, I’m guessing you’re not having a happy Pavlovian response right now.

My point? There’s a difference between a plain chocolate bar and a peanut-butter cup. And it’s a difference that can tell us something specific about a person or a character.

You start with an idea, a concept. Let’s say: Friendship. I like that. Now, because you know better than to tell this friendship, you try to think of something that shows friendship. How about a present? Okay. Great. What present? A book? Or a racing-car set? Tickets to the next James Bond movie? Or to that all-nude production of Waiting for Godot?

One more? Concept: Anger. Details: Throwing a chair through the window or curling up into a ball on the couch? Knocking down that tower of blocks or turning your back on everybody else in the room and building that tower slowly, steadily, as close to the sky as you can get it?

I’ve gone on here about how I’m usually on the side of fewer details, especially in historical novels. And I stand by my belief that too many details is just…too many.  I also get that–with a picture book–the writer who supplies too many details is not only overdoing the word count, but is probably also getting in the way of the illustrator. BUT…when it comes time to actually pick a detail, you need the right one. It needs to add to the story, reveal character, and create an image in the reader’s mind.

What will I be doing today? Sitting at my computer, staring into space, letting ideas and words and images saunter through my brain. I’ll have my butterfly net handy, ready to catch any possibilities, drop them into my story, and see if they’re the right fit. Most I’ll set free again, but I’m definitely hoping for one that will decide to stay.

A couple of recommendations for picture books in which the authors have, IMO, done a beautiful job picking details:

Posted in Friday Five

Friday Five: Random Info that Might Possibly, Someday, Be Useful

Posted on by beckylevine

Write what you know. I’ve talked about that concept before, how I really think part of creating a story that we love writing (and others hopefully love reading) is stretching ourselves beyond what we know. Still, all of us have histories and worlds that we’ve lived in that could, possibly, add a layer of something extra to a WIP, whether that’s one we’re working on now or one we haven’t even got the idea for yet. The thing is, we never know what that is until and if we need it.

I thought it’d be a fun Friday Five to share pieces of my past that might, in some happy time, be the thing that adds that layer–the detail that flows into a setting, adds a quirk to a character, twists a plot, or amps up some dialogue.

And then I want to hear from you. 🙂

1. I know what happens when you step on a bathroom scale holding a dog that tops out just under 100 pounds. Awake. And moving. And I know just how big the window of time is  before you either drop the dog or, with the dog still in your arms, go over backward in a big, big thud. (Luckily, I also know what it feels like to hold a newborn, and I mean newborn, puppy in your hands and rub its belly to get it circulating and wriggling and happening.)

2. I know what an avocado looks like when a possum has been at it. Think vampire.

3. I know what it feels like to drive through Hollywood on your way to the graveyard shift you’re working, and realize the thin girl walking along the sidewalk is not on her way home from ballet class. At 11:30 at night. In a not-so-great neighborhood. Gut punch.

4. I know what it feels like to get way too much sand and salt water in your face, bodysurfing in Mexico. And then be stung by a jellyfish. In the elbow. The one you might, you know, just possibly want to bend, sometime before the end of the day.

5. I know that peacocks, perched on a fence in the rain, are no more attractive or appealing than a bunch of turkeys in the same position. And that you have to be just as careful where you put your feet, when you walk near them.

There. How about you? Don’t take the easy route. Push yourself to think of things that you can actually imagine in a book or an article, that little tidbit that only you know. Or at least that not everybody on the planet knows.  Go ahead–I want to see what you come up with!

Posted in Critiquing, First Drafts, Setting, Specifics

Concrete, Solid Specifics

Posted on by beckylevine

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.