News, essays and notes on writing
Writing humour, I believe, is probably the most difficult literary discipline, because humour is such an individualistic concept. What one person finds gut-bustingly funny, another finds offensive, or ridiculous, or just plain not hilarious, not even worth a Sheldon Cooper breathy ha-ha.
I have become mesmerized by Michael Crummey’s considerable writing skill. His prose is precise yet lush. His characters are real, understandable, compelling, even though their particular experience may be utterly foreign to the reader — such is Crummey’s ability to create from only words living, breathing, knowable individuals.
It’s not that I’m insensitive to the topic, or the author’s own struggle with abuse. My problem with Ann-Marie MacDonald’s novel has everything to do with writer’s craft.
The Lightkeeper’s Daughters is a stark story full of silences and turbulence, secrets and revelations, initiated through Elizabeth, an aged woman who is blind, and Morgan, the girl who serves community service for misdemeanors by being a companion to Elizabeth.
A good, entertaining read, perhaps a bit naïve by modern standards, but rife with excellent historical details, and sleuthing in medieval England.
It’s been a few weeks since my last post, which was mostly a disheartening insight for my readers into the financial health of my writing career. But let it not be thought I’m all controlled rage and simmering angst around here. Quite the opposite, actually.
So, it’s year end. Financial statements have been run. And once again I look at the numbers and ask myself why I’m doing this. It’s not pretty, friend. Not pretty at all.
There’s a reason I’ve left the subject of marketing and promotion to one of the last articles on the subject of writers’ craft: it’s a tricky and often highly individual decision, dependent on personal preference, budget, and influence. I don’t think there’s any one perfect strategy.
In the past 20 years the reasonable choices available to a writer have expanded considerably, and the delicacy around some of those choices has diminished. Was a time if you wished to publish your work, you were left with some very stark avenues.
There seems to be an accepted protocol that once you’ve finished your novel, you then put together a group of willing, knowledgeable readers — beta readers — to do what is essentially a market test.
You’ve just keyed in the final word, placed punctuation, and the sense of accomplishment that settles over you is profound. You’re done.
I remember interviewing biographer and historian Marian Fowler for The Canadian Author and Bookman, back when the Canadian Authors Association published that wonderful writers’ periodical.
Doesn’t matter what genre of fiction you’re writing, it is imperative you create a real and believable environment. Do this successfully, and your reader becomes further immersed in the story you’re telling not only through excellent characters and point of view, but through the world you’ve created.
