Books

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Travel Like a Writer: Using Local Color to Enhance the Setting of Your Novel or Nonfiction Book

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We weren’t even 15 minutes down the road from Austin to San Diego when we smelled gas fumes filling her green Mazda coupe. I twisted in the passenger seat so that I could sniff toward the backseat. Sure enough the odor was coming from the propane tank we’d crammed back there. I turned around and cracked the window, but we didn’t stop. We just laughed and kept on driving.

At least that’s the story I tell now. After I hit the highway this summer to recreate that August 1995 trip, the memories will probably change. At the very least, I hope they’ll become textured with the sights, sounds, touches, feelings, scents, tastes, and tears of what my friend Kathy and I called our Thelma & Louise road trip.

I’m reliving our journey because my next book is a memoir about our complicated friendship. It wasn’t until I determined to recreate our 1995 trip that I realized we’d said goodbye to each other in San Diego—she was moving there and I was helping her move, hence the reason for the trip—exactly 20 years after we said our final goodbye. Kathy died on September 1, 2015.

Twenty-one years later, as hard as I try to recall, my memories of that trip consist only of snippets of scenes—not a story, not a plot, and certainly not a story with conflict, change, and growth.

I know, though, that if I follow that road again, stand at the precipice of the Grand Canyon, search for a 2 A.M. hotel room in Las Vegas, and finally watch the sun set behind the Pacific, I’ll remember and our book will come.

I’m far from the only author who has ever traveled for a memoir—some to recreate memories, some to create memories, almost all to cope, to change, and to grow as a person. Cheryl Strayed for Wild and Elizabeth Gilbert for Eat Pray Love immediately come to mind.

But traveling for a book isn’t limited to nonfiction. It can be equally imperative to fiction.

Sure, at the touch of our fingertips we have Google maps, YouTube, Pinterest, Instagram, Facebook, and newspapers and television broadcasts from across the world, all of which allow us to virtually visit any place on Earth—or outer space, for that matter. Those virtual visits definitely help us weave necessary details into our work and even fact check our scenes.

But virtual visits aren’t the same as standing in a locale and seeing, smelling, hearing, tasting, and feeling what’s around us. For example, for years I read and watched news reports about the deadly air pollution in China. I didn’t realize how horrific the pollution was, though, until I stood on a hilltop in China, staring over miles and miles of farmland, and watched a lone worker guide a wooden plow behind a sorrel horse. In that rustic, rural setting, without a smokestack or car in sight, the pollution was so milky thick that I felt I could hold it in my hand as easily I could a gray ball of yarn.

As I think back to that day that sweltered with pollution, I recall the landowner who smiled at me. He seemingly yearned to have his photograph taken with me, as much as I yearned to have mine taken with him. After I returned from my walk through his farmlands, he reappeared, freshly showered and wearing a clean white shirt that matched my own. We stood next to each other as a friend quickly snapped our photo. Then it was time to go. But I didn’t want to leave this man. He was tall and lean. His eyes crinkled and twinkled in the hot, hazy sunlight. And there was something about him that seemed so familiar, something that pulled me to him, that made me want to hug him and hold him and never leave him.

I thought I knew then what it was. When I got home and studied our photo, I knew for sure. This tall, lean, smiling Chinese farmer with the crinkling, twinkling eyes resembled my not-so-tall, yet lean, partly Jewish father whose eyes crinkled and twinkled when he smiled. It was as though my dad had been reincarnated in China.

Remembering that is almost bringing a novel and plot into my brain.

Award-winning novelist Amanda Eyre Ward traveled to Brownsville, Texas, and San Diego, California, to research her fifth novel, The Same Sky, a story about motherhood, resilience, and faith. A reader can see the influence of those trips in her scene setting:

“The sun in California is different. Just as bright as in Texas, it somehow lacks saturation, plenitude. … And the air seems thinner, somehow, scented mildly with juniper and salt from a nearby ocean.”

A writer isn’t going to glean that sort of information from Google or YouTube.

But Ward also went to those border cities for her plot, because her plot is about the intersecting and conflicting lives of a successful American mom and a desperate immigrant child who illegally entered the United States without a parent to protect her. “Every kid talked about food. As most had faced starvation either at home or along the journey to the US, every corn muffin, cookie, and bottle of clean water was described in loving detail,” Ward wrote on her website.

“Why had they come? Many had been left with relatives who had died or could no longer care for them. Some had joined (and been tattooed by) a gang and then a different gang had taken over their town. They were hungry. They wanted their moms. They wanted to be adopted. They told me God had brought them, and God would find them families in the US.

“One girl’s story was so harrowing and awful that my stomach hurt every time she said, ‘And then it was night.’ I racked my brain for something to say to make her smile. She was from El Salvador and her journey to California was different from the journey of the girl in The Same Sky (who had originally been named Elena).

“Nevertheless, I told her that the girl in my novel was a girl so strong and amazing that she had made it to safety. I told her I would name the girl after her, and I did. Her name is Carla.”

Previously, Ward had traveled to Cape Town, South Africa, for her third novel, Forgive Me, a story of love, memory, and motherhood. “That trip changed everything,” Ward explained on her website. “One night, I woke to the sound of dogs barking and loud voices and I had a sudden thought: you shouldn’t be here. You’re a mother now, you should be at home. Someday, I realized, my son could tell a therapist, ‘My mom left me when I was a baby and ran off to South Africa!’ I lay awake thinking, ‘Can I be a good mom and travel? Can I examine sadness and pain and still create a safe world for my son?’ It was a long night with the dogs and this tinny music coming from a bar nearby, and by morning, the book had changed and so had I.”

I don’t want anyone to think they have to make a special and expensive trip overseas to inform their work. Travel research can be incorporated into everyday life. That trek I took through the farmland of China was for a business trip that had nothing to do with my writing career. A business trip I made to Europe provided a solitary night in Paris that informed my Master’s thesis novel and its setting.

 Diesel fumes plugged my nostrils as I sat in the sidewalk café and poured mineral water over one measly ice cube. The incessant noise of the traffic almost drowned out the jet lag that rattled my brain…

I was angry that I’d picked a café on a street busy only with cars and no good looking strolling Frenchmen to distract my thoughts…

 I concentrated on the yellow headlights of the passing cars. I watched the flashing of the traffic lights. I felt alone and lost. In a foreign country killing time, wasting my life watching lights…

A random stroll with a Frenchman affected my plot as a variation of him became one of my characters.

A family vacation in New Orleans created more scenes and plot points, which I won’t share with you because they’re a bit like New Orleans—wreaking of spilled rum, mildew, piss, vomit, and nights better left forgotten … for my lead characters. In other words, they created action and conflict.

My point is that being there, standing there, where your scenes are set, where your characters are getting in trouble or falling in love or merely bunny-hopping, topless down Bourbon Street, they all create a feeling in your soul that translates to the words that come out of your fingertips.

In 2014, I interviewed New York Times bestselling novelist Sue Monk Kidd about her book The Invention of Wings, the fictionalized story of the very real Sarah Grimke, the 19th century daughter of a Charleston slave owner who disgraced her family by fighting against slavery, racism and sexism.

“I researched for six months and did nothing but read and travel to try to figure all of this out and then I wrote for three and a half years and I was continuing to research during that time too. So this was a four year effort for me,” Kidd said.

But the one thing that stuck with me—besides the fact that she outlines on butcher paper, which she wraps around her study—is the influence that traveling to Boston to stand by Sarah Grimke’s grave had on her and her book. Yes, Kidd could have seen on the internet a photo of Grimke’s headstone and noticed that the engraved words, “Sarah Moore Grimke,” were barely legible. I did that. Yes, she could have seen on that internet photo that the headstone was worn, pitted, and discolored from 140 winters. I did that. But only by standing there and seeing it in person would she have whispered in her mind, If you can hear this, Sarah, I want to do you justice. I want to do your life justice. I would love for people to know about you and your role and what you did.

I guess that’s why I’m taking this road trip this summer. I want to stand where Kathy and I stood and whisper into the wind and let my words drift out over the sea, “If you can hear this, Kathy, I want to do you justice. I want to do your life justice … because you changed me.”

SUZY SPENCER is an award-winning journalist and author of four nonfiction books — Wasted, a New York Times best-sellter and Violet Crown Award finalist; Wages of Sin, which was featured in the 2013 season of Investigation Discovery’sDeadly Sins; Breaking Point, a Book of the Month Club, Doubleday Book Club, Literary Guild, and Mystery Guild selection; and The Fortune Hunter, which was called “riveting” and “block-buster” by Globe magazine. In 2012, the Berkley Books division of Penguin published Suzy’s first memoir,Secret Sex Lives: A Year on the Fringes of American Sexuality. Secret Sex Lives was named a Publishers Weekly Fall 2012 pick, a Barnes & Noble editor’s recommendation, and a Writers’ League of Texas 2013 Book Award finalist, among other accolades. Suzy holds a Master’s of Professional Writing in fiction and screenwriting and a Master’s of Business Administration in marketing and finance, both from the University of Southern California, and a Bachelor of Arts in journalism from Baylor University.

HIRE SUZY TO EDIT YOUR MANUSCRIPT! CLICK HERE TO REQUEST A QUOTE.

Genres of interest: Creative and narrative nonfiction, memoir, adult fiction including contemporary fiction, upmarket fiction, commercial fiction, women’s fiction, and thrillers.

Available for: Manuscript critiques, content editing, developmental editing, first chapter evaluations, nonfiction book proposal edits, private writing coaching, media coaching.

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The Best Book Titles of all Time: How to Choose a Title that Stands Out and Sells Your Book

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My mentor in grad school, Marion Dane Bauer, said that every good title should work on two levels. “What levels?” I asked. “That depends on the story,” she replied.

Years later, I’m still investigating the layers of title significance, and I can say with certainty that Marion was correct. Well, she’s written over eighty books, so she does know a thing or two about crafting a memorable title.

Let’s take a look at ten winningly-titled—and very different—books, and analyze not only what makes them stand out but ultimately mean something deeper to the reader. After all, there’s a huge difference between a book you’ve enjoyed, and a title that leaps out of your mouth every time you’re asked for a book recommendation.

10. PRIDE & PREJUDICE by Jane Austen (Timeless, Classic Love Story)

Clearly Lizzie Bennett is Pride and Mr. Darcy is Prejudice. Or wait…is it the other way around? I’ve often enjoyed hearing Austen fans debate this title. The truth is that it works either way, and the debate we have about which character is which keeps the title and important themes alive and at the forefront of the reader’s mind. Also as a shorthand, Something & Something is always going to cue a reader into a potential love story.

9. THE HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY by Douglas Adams (Adult Science-Fiction)

Genre expectations shine through in this title. You’re going to be reading sci-fi, sure, but you’re also going to be reading farce and comic-sassiness. Note that this title, like so many great titles, draws attention to one element of a story that also stands as a metaphor for the rest of said story.

 

8. EAST OF EDEN by John Steinbeck (Adult Literary Fiction)

Arguably, Grapes of Wrath jumps to mind when you think about Steinbeck, but I’ve never been able to satisfactorily connect that title to its story. East of Eden on the other hand draws attention to the biblical parallels in the story, while also setting a strong statement upfront that this story is not a religious story. I see a lot of writers wanting to title their stories after place names, and if you’re going to do that, I highly suggest being indirect.

7. PLEASE IGNORE VERA DIETZ by A.S. King (Young Adult Contemporary)

Like the title, this book is about Vera Dietz. Like the title, this book is about so much more than Vera Dietz. It’s about attitude and angst. And so much of this book is about what the characters don’t tell each other—what they’re ignoring—and the consequences of that choice.

 

 

6. WHAT WE TALK ABOUT WHEN WE TALK ABOUT LOVE by Raymond Carver (Short Stories)

Long titles don’t work. Unless they do. Unless they tell you exactly what a story is about in no uncertain or apologetic terms. Carver’s book of short stories is all about the uglies associated with love, and instead of tiptoeing around the theme, he draws frank attention to it. And it’s this frank attention that prepares the reader for the stories and offers honest support afterwards.

5. LEAVES OF GRASS by Walt Whitman (Free Verse Poetry)

Walt Whitman’s gorgeous collection of observations reads like a deep study of the United States, its people, and the strange rankings of cultural mistakes and personal joys. Not only does Whitman spend pages upon pages dissecting the subtle glory of nature—like individual blades of grass—but he also draws our attention to the ideas and struggles that characterize the American people. And boom that’s all in the title, isn’t it?

 

4. WE SHOULD ALL BE FEMINISTS by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (Book from Lecture)

Don’t bury the lead. Especially if you’re writing something with an important message. Adichie’s title for her speech—which became such a stunning, succinct book—is not only a wonderful read, but a reminder of the importance and inclusion that feminism should inspire. Say it aloud? We should all be feminists. Hits home and hard, doesn’t it?

3. THE ABSOLUTELY TRUE DIARY OF PART-TIME INDIAN by Sherman Alexie (Young Adult Semi-Autobiographical)

While Alexie’s main character named Junior is a fictional being, this book is based on his own experiences—the truth of which comes straight out of the title. I could say more, but I think that covers it.

 

 

2. THE UNDERNEATH by Kathi Appelt (Middle Grade with Animal POVs)

The two main kittens in the story are born beneath a porch dubbed, The Underneath. There, they are safe. There, they must be quiet and calm. But kittens are anything but quiet and calm, and when they get out into the sun, they’re faced with the true underneath. Underneath the sky they find adventures and perils—and then underneath all that is a deep history where good forces are at work…but then so are the bad ones as well.

1. THE UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS OF BEING by Milan Kundera (Adult Literary Philosophy)

This highfaluting title captures the philosophy and literary fiction angles of Milan Kundera’s masterpiece exquisitely. It prepares the reader for two very important meanings: everything matters excruciatingly AND nothing matters eventually. Ouch…I think I just hurt my own feelings.

Cori McCarthy holds three degrees in writing: a BA in poetry/memoir, a postgraduate in screenwriting, and an MFA in writing for children and young adults. She is also the author of four books and a freelance editor at Yellow Bird Editors. Find out more about writing with Cori at CoriMcCarthy.com.

 

 

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Layering Your Draft, Part Four: The Toothpick Test

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If you’re just seeing this for the first time, you might want to start the blog series here! It’s all about how to build your novel like a layer cake, with lots of delicious flavors and character frosting.

Now that we’ve talked about what layering your draft means, and how to do it, I’m going to take on another important question. Why bother with layering? It can seem a little fussy, or unnecessary, or just like a lot of work. We’ve talked about how layering gives you the opportunity to tackle the story one thing at a time, so each aspect gets your full writerly attention and becomes much stronger than it could if you were trying to spread your attention out to too many places at once. (Ex: It’s much easier to draft with the arc of one character in mind than it is to draft with the trajectories of seven other characters, plus setting, plot, theme, and language.)

But there’s another sort of magic that layering brings to your finished draft. It gives it the depth and complexity of life. When I write an everythingallatonce draft, I might hit a few high points, but the truth is that the overall draft itself is going to feel flat when I compare it to real life–even on the most mundane day. That’s because when we walk through our days, we’re experiencing all of the layers at once, decoding them seamlessly and, for the most part, instantaneously. In a story, we have to build up a similar experience for our readers. We have to put in the time to construct the reality.

Don’t fear the layers! They look like hard work, but they’re delicious. And so worth it.

Don’t fear the layers! They look like hard work, but they’re delicious. And so worth it.

So, going back to our cake metaphors, what are we looking for in a finished product?

Texture: Does it have a light, springy feeling? Or is it dense and dark and delicious? I think of the story texture as a combination of the voice and the content. Is that texture what you want it to be? Have you given the manuscript to beta readers or tried reading out loud to make sure that it’s working?

Consistency of the bake: Is it the same all the way through? This might seem like an odd question, since of course the plot is going to progress and the characters will change and grow. But often, when a draft isn’t working, it’s because it’s changed or gotten away from us. Maybe a subplot or a character has dragged the story out of shape. Maybe the structure is off-kilter. Maybe the reader expectations that were set up in the beginning of the book have been abandoned. Maybe the themes haven’t come together yet. Make sure that you’re telling the same story from beginning to end.

Are the flavors coming through? This is an important one. Writers can talk all day about what they intended to write, or how they wanted it to come across, but in the end, the reader only has the manuscript. So if you take a look at the finished product, and an important element of the plot has gotten pushed to the side, or the characters’ emotions or motivations aren’t clear on the page, it’s time to go back and do another layer.

So with all of these layers to create, how do we know when we are done?

Writers use lots of different methods. Some go straight to beta readers. Others put the manuscript in a drawer and wait for a certain amount of time (a week, a month, or more) to give fresh perspective.

I recommend also trying The Toothpick Test. When we test a cake for doneness, we stick a toothpick right in the middle and see if it “comes out clean”–no uncooked goop, or sticky crumbs. When we apply the same idea to a manuscript draft, it’s a matter of opening the book to a random page (I do suggest the middle, since it’s where many manuscripts have the most undercooked bits,) and check to for doneness. When you read this page out of context, what impression do you get? Does the manuscript need a little more bake time, a few more layers, or are the flavors and texture exactly what you hoped for?

If it seems to be in good shape, stick a few more toothpicks into random places–just to be sure! (One toothpick is usually enough to be sure with a cake, but a novel requires a little more thoroughness.)

So, have you tried layering your drafts? How do you know when you are done? Sound off in the comments!

And happy novel baking!

Want to work with Amy Rose? She loves editing all kinds of fiction! Just click on the Contact tab and fill out the easy form to get started.

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Layering Your Draft, Part Three: Frosting Your Characters

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To start at the beginning of the series, click here!

Have you ever been told that your story has an interesting premise, a strong plot, and fine writing, but that the reader just didn’t “connect”? While there are many possible reasons for this, one of the most common has to do with character. The story in question needs more character-specific layers.

Character layers are the frosting of your story. People seem to think that frosting is what goes on top, but in a layer cake, the frosting runs in delicious seams throughout. It is always visible, always there, creating a beautiful depth and adding flavor to every bite. It is also BALANCED with the other story elements (ie the cake.) Character shouldn’t take over your story completely, and it shouldn’t be the only part they’re showing up for. Great frosting can’t make up for a dry cake!

This ratio looks so right to me.

This ratio looks so right to me.

Everyone has their own preferred frosting-to-cake ratio. Different genres can have different amounts of character development, and different ways to include said development. So what’s the best way to develop the balance in your work? Think about your own favorite stories, especially in the genre you’re working in. How do you connect to those characters? How do you want to use voice, banter, character desire lines, etc. to craft yours? Just remember: your cake needs frosting. Don’t skip it, and don’t skimp.

The first time I approached a draft with a layering technique, it went on to become my first published book. An early reader said that the story was working, and that the main character was coming across, but a secondary character was flat on the page. Here’s where I asked myself: what do I want from this character? Who is she in my head? Is she that person on the page?

Here are some practical tips for frosting your characters:

  • Isolate the scenes the character appears in. This works especially well for secondary characters. Create a document that includes only those scenes, so you can see the development and growth of that character, his/her subplots and how they are progressing without lots of other scenes getting in the way.
  • Break it down even farther. Are you focusing on the arc of a character’s desire line? Her dialogue? Her emotions or inner life? I’ve done passes for all of these things, and more. Sometimes a character needs a full overhaul, but often the more specific you can be about targeting what’s not there yet, the easier it becomes to add and tweak.
  • Look for the frosting gap. Often when I’m going back to do a character layer, I’ll find that I’ve left space to add. Certain moments just seem to open up when you look at the draft with an eye to deepening character!
  • What is strongest/most unique/most important about your character? Is that coming through in the draft?
  • Tie it into theme. In later drafts, you will want to make sure that your characters tie into the main themes of the story. Sometimes, characters who aren’t “working” are the ones who don’t have some connection to theme.
  • If you start with character, you might need to adjust or add more later. If you start with a character layer, just remember that as the story evolves, you might need to take another look at what you started with. Even if things change, that initial character work isn’t lost. In most cases, you’re not throwing out the frosting and making a new batch here. You’re just adjusting so it matches the cake perfectly.
  • Don’t be afraid to cut/combine. Sometimes a layer will be dedicated to taking out a character you really don’t need, or combining characters who are doing the same narrative job. If you isolate this in its own layer, it’s easier to adjust the rest of the story around it.
  • Let the main character take more than one layer. Don’t be nervous if you spend time on a character layer for your MC and people say she still needs some work. I usually devote 2-4 layers in each drafting process just for the MC. And, like I said above, I try to focus on specific drafting goals for each of these layers.

That’s all for this week—happy frosting!

~Amy Rose

PS In the last part of this series, I’ll talk about why layering works, and how to know when your novel is done baking!

Want to work with Amy Rose? She critiques, edits, and provides writing coaching for all sorts of fiction. Just click on the Contact tab and fill out the easy form to get started!