Friday, December 13, 2013

Writers read: the discipline and glory of comic books

Not a comic reader? Then open your mind and heart to a whole new-to-you genre with endless variety and strange potential. Adrian Kinnaird has done us a great service in creating this heavily illustrated overview of New Zealand comic books —an industry that was repressed in 1954 only to resurrect in 1977 and grow stronger than ever.

Drawing styles vary from bam-bam-black to pastel cute and back again. Stories range from sinister to same-old to save-the-world. But what these 30-odd cartoonists have in common is a fabulous oddness, a unique vision plastered on paper for all to see.

As an old-fashioned wordsmith, I find much to learn here. 

This is what I love best about the book: a sense of wildness and freedom, as if anything is possible — and likely — in this genre. Every cartoonist has an unmistakable personal style. 

And yet cartoonists work within far tighter constraints than novelists.  Structure is a physical attribute: the cartoonist must completely fill a specific number of pages. There's no wriggle room for redundancy or diversions: beneath an often frivolous appearance, every story must be excessively focused and concise, and structured as precisely as a bespoke suit.

Reading From Earth's End makes me appreciate the simplicity of the novelist's task ... and wish I could draw better. Hm, I think I'll go to a drawing class next year.


Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Writers read: the plus and minus of writing in the present tense


The Score is a delightful novel about a smashed grand piano and its people. 
As a reader I was happy to be whisked along by the story of Stefan the desperate piano restorer and his unlikely helpers. Attractions include a vivid bunch of characters in various predicaments; an interesting setting in the community housing in Newtown, Wellington, only a short bus ride from my place; and a friendly, confident style.
As a writer, I started pondering the problems of writing an entire novel in the present tense.


  • You can only dive into the past by making a character speak or think about it. You can't take us there.
  • The emphasis is likely be on constant activity. It's difficult to step back for a breather, to reflect on events.
  • If you are telling events as they happen, it's hard to keep the timeline realistic.
  • Your voice must be very engaging to maintain the reader's commitment. A "Hey, look at this!" tone can be tiring.
Adrienne Jansen handles the challenge expertly. The present tense suits the helter-skelter plot and conveys the minute-by-minute confusion of her characters' lives, which are certainly messy. Altogether this is a charming novel, warm and human.
Many a  brilliant novel has been written in the present tense, but it's a heck of a lot harder than it looks. So before deciding to use the present tense in fiction, take a deep breath. 

Monday, November 25, 2013

Writers read: for non-fiction, be your reader

When writing fiction, I've been told very firmly by publishers and agents to picture precisely where my novel would be shelved in a bookstore. In other words, to know my audience.

Fortunately, I write novels for fun and only fun, so I ignore this advice. I don't care who reads them. That's extreme, but many a fabulous novel has broken the mould and found its own surprising audience.

Here comes the ominous "However."

However, for non-fiction, this would be foolish: you certainly need to know who you want to read your book. Otherwise you might patronise them or bore your readers.

Lauren Earl has no problem knowing her audience. She is her audience, or was a year or two ago.

Her audience: young people leaving the family home for the first time to share a flat. But what flat? Where? When? How? Who with? These huge questions can lead to chaos, drama, fear and malnutrition — but that won't stop flatting from being a great adventure.

Lauren Earl's marvellous Flatter's Survival Guide hits exactly the right note for her target audience, because she's been there, done that. It's funny and silly and the advice is spot on.

"Look for any notes posted around, as they can be a sign of passive-aggressive flatmates."
"Everyone seems normal until you get to know them."
"There will be squabbles, you wait and see."

Give this book to — you know who. They'll love it. They'll still make lots of bad decisions, but hey, that's OK.

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Writers read: single serve of food or words

What an excellent book for people who live and eat alone.

Penny Oliver, a seasoned food writer, has rustled up an inspiring cookbook featuring meals for one.

Many people feel dispirited when they eat alone. At least half the fun of good food is sharing with friends or family or ... anyone.

That's not me. I cook twice a day for myself, three times if you count porridge. And usually I say 'Yum that's good!' at least once per meal.

All the more reason to relish these healthy, hearty, colourful little meals-on-a-page. I envy Penny's lovely casserole dishes for one person, too.

This book sends a strong message: you may be alone, but you are worth cooking for.

That's a good message for a writer, too — to think of your reader as a real person, someone to respect, someone reading your book all alone.

And of course you can write in single serves. Think of all the novels written on cell phones (keitai shousetsu) or even as a series of tweets. Some novels are written in tiny chapters, a page and a half long. That's enough to move the plot forward and keep your lonesome readers reading.


Thursday, July 18, 2013

Writers read: inspired by a baby book

Very happy chap reading a new Little Fronds board book by Matthew Williamson and Fraser Williamson
What can you learn from this new board book, as a writer? It could not be any more simple. Surely you, a sophisticated adult writer, can learn nothing from this?

Farm by Matthew Williamson and Fraser Williamson has got exactly the right number of words, and not one more. That's plenty. That's perfect.

Who says it's perfect? This small person says so with his body language, and he is the expert.

  • He can turn over the pages all by himself.
  • He can say pussy cat cat cat cat cat cat when he sees the picture of the cat.
  • He is a very happy reader.

Watching a very happy reader is inspiring for a writer. That's one of the greatest rewards of writing, isn't it?

Oh, and there's another new Little Fronds book too: Beach.

Little Fronds books from Penguin NZ.

Saturday, June 29, 2013

What to do with your first novel: write your own rejection slip


I've just read a friend's first novel on Kindle. I wish I hadn't.

Or rather, I wish I had read it in manuscript form, not as a published ebook.

And I wish she had asked me for a few tips.

But I imagine it's particularly painful asking for feedback when you are a senior communications consultant who has been writing reports and critiquing and correcting other people's work for the last 15 years. Or perhaps my friend wanted to keep fiction writing as a private treasure, not to be tinkered with by others.

The thing is, most people who actually finish a first novel quite rightly experience a burst of euphoria. Yes! To finish writing a novel is a mighty, marvelous, massive achievement. You are amazing! Your home town should declare a public holiday in honour of You and celebrate your achievement with fireworks and brass bands.

Even so, this was a first novel, written all alone in a creative cocoon. Is yours like the one I have just read — all description and no action? Endless cups of tea (or swigs of gin) and flashbacks? Characters that we can never like?

There are so many skills to learn as a novelist that it's impossible to master them all in one go: plot, character, dialogue, momentum, description, pace and structure are just the start. You learn little by little by writing more and more and more, again and again.

And then there's spelling. All first novels need a severe copy-edit, if nothing else, because we literally do not see our own errors of grammar, phrasing, spelling and formatting.

Kindle will not reject your unready manuscript: now you must write your own rejection slip — or at least a Needs more work letter. That's an impossible task for a new writer. With a first novel you are inexperienced by definition, so inevitably you misjudge the quality. It cannot be otherwise. Sometimes you think your book is much better than it really is.

So enjoy the euphoria. Celebrate. But please, for your own sake, don't publish your adored creation at this stage. You're a good writer and an expert business communicator, but you're not a novelist—yet. When you move on to the next stage and write something that's as much fun to read as it was to write, you'll be so relieved you didn't publish prematurely.

Years later, you'll look back on this manuscript in wonder. You'll toy with the idea of revising it, but it cannot be salvaged because you have moved on. Instead you may recycle one character or a snippet of conversation or perhaps the setting. And your next book will bring much more pleasure to you and your readers.


Image of Hypatia: in the public domain. I think she is rejecting her suitor. But he'll live.

Sunday, June 2, 2013

Elsie's Scale of Terribleness: defusing a happy child's grief and despair


I thought I'd share with you Elsie's Scale of Terribleness.

You know how kids come home from school and say, "Today was the worst day in my entire life!" And they think life could hold nothing worse, because, thank heavens, nothing worse has happened to them so far.

But if they are inclined to dramatise and sob and collapse at the general Terribleness of Their Day, you might try using Elsie's Scale of Terribleness. That might bring a sense of proportion. Or not.

Here is the code to the glorious chart above.

Left Axis: the Scale of Terribleness, where 1 is only slightly terrible, and 10 is as terrible as it gets.
Bottom Axis: Terrible Events, as placed by Elsie, aged almost 10.

A = 1 (on the scale of terribleness)
I made a mistake at netball but it didn't change the score. (No harm done.)

B = 2  Someone was mean to me at school. (I suffered, I need sympathy. Moving on.)

C = 3 All day people kept putting the wrong size marble in our marble run, so one part kept breaking and I had to keep fixing it and the sellotape didn't stick properly and they didn't even say they were sorry. (Just let me vent, OK?)

D, E, F: no scenario for these so far. Any suggestions?

G = 7 When my Granny dies. (I can see this can't be fixed but only one person dies and it is inevitable.)

H = 8 When my dog Ivy had to be put down. (That really was terrible and it still makes me cry.)

I = 9 I might do an experiment that results in everybody getting frozen. I know how to undo the damage, but it would cause something worse to happen. (Purely hypothetical. I admit I have never had a 9 experience.)

J = 10 (I contributed this scenario.) War in Wellington. All the houses are burned to the ground and everybody in Wellington dies. (Affects many people, changes my life, and it can't be fixed.)

How to use Elsie's Scale of Terribleness
Your child or grandchild: "Today was the worst day in my entire life." Sigh, sob.
You (after hugging): "So how was it on the Scale of Terribleness?"
Your child, thoughtfully: "About a 2 or a 3."