Blog 9: What comes after Pancake Day?

Hello again my lovely blog supporters. Did you all partake in our annual tradition of Pancake Day yesterday? A bit of flipping, sizzling and eating? I certainly did. It’s a perfect excuse to eat something sweet and messy, which is a great combination to get on board with.

But what comes after flipping Pancake Day? Flipping Lent! That painful forty days where we deliberately punish ourselves by not eating something that we usually can’t live without. I don’t know many people who take part in this Christian festival nowadays. A few years back I would have given up chocolate. Anyone that knows me, will be able to testify that giving up that particular treat took me a lot of self-control and determination. And I probably made myself sick at Easter, making up for it, resembling the Vicar of Dibley when she had her head stuck in that chocolate fountain. Ooo, a chocolate fountain!

Of course, not everyone gives up food, some people may give up something else, perhaps cut down on alcohol or sacrifice a treat, say perhaps, not having their nails done. I personally would love to give up housework, but not for lent, just for … ever. I was not made for hoovering and ironing, I was made for editing. For editing, I tell you!

Anyway, this got me thinking about the act of giving things up. And we all know, that if it’s something you love, then it’s very difficult to do it. But, when it comes to writing, or more to the point, when we are ready to edit our first draft the likelihood is, you are going to have to say goodbye to some of your work. I recall being in poetry class when one of the other students announced that cutting out some of their lines was like ripping off one of their arms. And it’s true. We are incredibly attached to what we write. We have birthed this creation, and there may be parts of it, that we don’t want to part with. But alas, we must. No, don’t argue with me! We must! Think of it like shearing a sheep in the summer, removing all the excess weight improves it no end. Now imagine your story is happily leaping about in a field. That is way better, isn't it?

So why am I being so mean and what can I possibly be telling you to take out? You will know from previous blogs some of the things to look out for that need to go, for example, repetition, but there are additional parts in your story that may be a bit like a hatstand, as my fiction tutor used to call it. It’s sat in a corner, it may look nice but it doesn’t really get used for anything and if you take it out, it won’t impact the story at all. We don’t want any hatstands! No, not even one. It could be a superfluous character, some dialogue or a whole scene that just isn’t pulling its weight. It could be a beautifully written, witty and lovely part of your story that has been plucked out from your very soul, but if you remove it and nothing else in the story is altered because of it, then I’m sorry to say, it really shouldn’t be there.

Every part of your story should fit together like a puzzle, it should all link together to contribute in some way to what you are putting across to the reader. You may have information that tells us about the character, who he is, where he came from and his background, and this can be portrayed by how they speak, what they wear, their mannerisms and how they live; describing the appearance of characters, rooms, the weather is all excellent but only if it is done for a specific purpose. Use the weather to create atmosphere, or to make things difficult for your character to amp up the tension but don’t just pop it in for the sake of it. Think carefully about how each detail works with what you are trying to achieve in the scene and overall within the story.

I’m not saying you have to, as said previously, rip off your arm and never see it again. If you have written something that you feel particularly proud of, then keep it to one side. A bit like a serial killer keeping a limb in the freezer until later, but you know, less gruesome. I refer you back to the blog about being unable to sleep and keeping a notebook. Pop it somewhere, in another file, and it is likely you can use it again for another piece of writing. It may even spark off a new character or story.

It isn’t just hatstands that I need to warn you about though. We need to be concise, people! We had a whole lecture about brevity in poetry class. Great writing is getting your point out clearly and not stifling it with a lot of other words that don’t need to be there and really, just drown out the impotant parts that your reader is trying to focus on. Can you rephrase your sentence to make it clearer and snappier? Perhaps combining two can improve the flow by cutting out a few that start with he or she. Are you stating the obvious, such as, I touched the floor, it was wet, when you could just stick with, the floor was wet, as that implies it was touched? Actions, such as walking through doors and going from one place to another aren’t necessary unless the actions themselves contribute. If the character arrives somewhere, we know they have gone from point A to point B to get there. Unless how they got there is important, then it’s just a boring detail that takes away from the action of your story. So, pick up those shears and start hacking.

Yes, it feels brutal, but once you have gone through and tossed out those hatstands, you will see just how much better it reads and feel more confident about it too. Let’s face it, no one uses hatstands nowadays, I mean, I rarely wear a hat at all. So, get at it and take part in some giving up for the season of Lent, followed by lots of chocolate at Easter as a reward, or cheese or whatever you are partial to—perhaps a new pair of shoes.

If you need any further advice on this blog, please comment at the bottom of the page or get in touch on the contact form and I will be happy to assist. Until next time, bye-bye.