Writing the things that don't matter

[JustAnotherJen]

Help! I have a lot of obstacles in my writing, but most of them I feel like I can get around, or over, or through, or under, or whatever. But there's this one problem that is a complete mystery to me and I have no clue what to do about it. The problem is I don't know how to write about the stuff that doesn't matter. (This stuff exists on both a large scale and a small scale. Or should, anyway.) The kinds of things that add depth and texture to the story. The things that aren't directly moving the story forward.

A couple of good examples from Harry Potter, since it's genius writing and pretty much everyone's read it:
- when we get snippets of what they're learning about in class, which happens a lot
- all kinds of stuff about quidditch
- details about various characters' love lives
- what Peeves is up to
I could give all sorts of examples, because they're never-ending. The books are full of all sorts of seemingly meaningless things that end up not being meaningless. I'm not talking about things that end up playing a bigger role later, I'm just talking about the stuff that builds characters and the world around them. The thing is, Rowling is genius and she works in all these kinds of things and makes them matter. I don't know how to do it at all.

For a couple of examples that I'm struggling with:
- in my WIP my MC has friends. It's important to me that she have friends. But only her best friend plays a major role. I can't figure out how the heck to involve her other school friends without it coming off as trite and forced.
- in a more specific example, I'm currently working on a hiking scene. I know where I want the scene to go - there's a bunch of happy conflict towards the end. I feel pretty confident about that part. It's getting to that part that's a problem. Because none of it really matters. I don't know how to make it matter. And, well, I don't want to have meaningless dialogue with them talking about the pretty trees.

Anyway, I hope I've explained myself clearly. And I hope some of you nice people out there have some suggestions for me. It seems to me that this is a pretty big deal in writing a book that feels believable, and so I feel like a complete moron every time I run into this wall. I just have this tendency to only want to write the important details.

Sorry for the long post... Any suggestions?

Thanks in advance!

[Ryan]

Psssst! You have to change the 2nd "the" to "that" in your subject line.

I think you are referring to the "sprinkles" on top of ice cream. The ice cream is your main body and story line and the sprinkles compliment it. I think you are in a good position because having the main storyline ironed out is the harder part (I think). If I were you I'd make a list of all the "things that don't matter" and a chapter template of sorts. You know want to "sprinkle" a little of this and a little of that in each chapter. With the list you will be able to see what you need to sprinkle. As far as the nuts and bolts of transitioning into these pieces of information from the main action, if it works then the characters and storyline will sort of open up and accept these pieces of information. If it feels forced then it probably is. When I was writing my book I had a twenty page Word file titled named Add Ons. Some of the Add Ons made it and some didn't.

Everyone's process is different but I used big bulletin boards to help me sort my info. Here's a link to some pics and a little bit about my process.
http://www.withoutrain.com/blog/writing-process/

Hope that helps. Cheers.

[dios4vida]

I'm not too good at this, either, so my advice is very limited and might not even work. But, for what it's worth, here it is:

I try to look at things from the protag's perspective, whether or not I'm writing in first person. What's important to her? What is it about her friends that she particularly loves, or drives her mad? When they're hiking, what does she focus on? The pretty trees? The hot guy's butt in front of her? These are the little things that make our characters real 3D people. Since they're important to her, they should/could be mentioned. In Harry's world, what's important is Ron and Hermione, hatred for Malfoy and the Death Eaters, the gnawing desire for family and normal life. Rowling put a lot of these things in the writing because the flaws that Harry loves and hates in Ron and Hermione, etc. are what make each of them individual.

Also, what is it about your world, made-up or not, that's special? To continue the Hogwarts analogy, things like potions class and Peeves are the flavor of the world. Reminding us of their presence, their exotic feel, their silliness, helps immerse us in the world. They're real and beloved by us because she made us love them. Highlight whatever you have in fun, entertaining, but pertinent ways, and the things that don't matter suddenly pop to life in the reader's mind.

Hope I was some help.

[JustAnotherJen]

Wow! Thanks to both of you for your input!! Sometimes you work at something until you can't see straight, but a fresh set of eyes allows you to take a step back and see things differently. Ryan, I really liked the idea of sort of planning out the various kinds of things I want to include and putting them in where they fit. I'm am TOTALLY a planner, so I don't know why this never occurred to me. I guess I thought inspiration would magically drop out of the sky or something. Brenda, your suggestion about thinking in terms of what's important to my MC is sooo good. And also thinking about what makes "my world" different. Again, maybe obvious to some, but I would have missed it without your help. And I appreciate you relating it back to my Harry Potter analogy because it's always nice to see things in action.

These are both such great suggestions. I'm curious what other techniques people are using.

[polymath]

Identifying and defining characters' roles establishes their degree of matter-ness. Central characters play dramatic, ongoing, action-central roles. Supporting characters, supporting roles. Auxiliary characters, auxiliary roles. Extras, extra roles.

Report central characters' behaviors and personalities, speech and thoughts, actions and sensations, emotions and causes and effects, antagonisms, reporting an up close and personal narrative distance for central characters.

Supporting characters support central characters' dramatic development, less close in narrative distance though.

Auxiliary characters are background characters that indirectly or directly dramatically influence central and supporting characters. Maybe they have a speaking line or two and recurring role episodes. More open narrative distance.

Extras are scene builders, props, so to speak, with some degree of dramatic influence. A greater degree of open narrative distance. Extras are often characterized by simple and short yet dramatic summaries. A one-line summary could encompass a packed coliseum's teeming masses. Impressions, so to speak.

A writing principle based on the "rule of threes" magical impact suggests for every two circumstances that matter one ought best seem not to matter, for verisimultude's sake, but nonetheless a dramatic influence no matter how slight it might be. "What I tell you three times is true." (Aristotle) In other words, authenticating a narrative's objective truth, though personal and therefore subjective and individually true, means incorporating things that don't matter. They are excellent opportunities for foreshadowing or at least prepositioning circumstances that will matter later on.

[Nicole R]

I'll add that I'm not sure these things don't matter. I think they do. If you look at the HP example, Rowlings usually picks specific class lessons that impact what Harry and the gang do later in the book. They learn what they'll eventually need to defeat the bad guy, so that info is very important. There's a reason for it. Same thing with Peeves and Quidditch - they become tools for advancing the plot (perhaps not immediately, but definitely later on).

As I moved through my own editing process, I discovered that meeting my ideal word count meant I had to make every scene, conversation and tid-bit of world-building matter. Even casual chat between friends had to reveal something useful to the story: insights on their relationship, the world or foreshadowing for some later event. If I felt something truly "didn't matter" to the plot, it got cut.

Knowing that has really helped me make the most of out of these types of sections in my other WIPs. Hope it helps!

[JustAnotherJen]

I totally agree with you, Nicole. These kinds of things DO matter, which is why I'm banging my head against the wall trying to figure it out. Because right now they feel like they don't matter to me, which is why they get left out. But they're important, so I need to figure out how to make them matter, how to make them a part of something bigger, something more important. I hope I'm not talking in circles. Anyway, thanks for making that point, because I agree with you. Every word needs to matter.

[Sommer Leigh]

I totally don't want to be annoying, but don't write about things that don't matter. Spend your time figuring out what does - and that isn't always apparent. It's sort of a trick you have to practice writing and recognizing in others.

I like that Ryan called it "Sprinkles" because that's such a great word for it. I think I'm going to call it that from now on. So there are two things that can happen - you mention your characters are hiking in this specific place or you describe how it feels to be hiking there. Too little in the sprinkle department and the scene feels sort of empty and flat and too much and you're drowning in eight paragraphs of purple, flowery description that is so soggy it's more or less meaningless. The happy medium is in there, but it's a real talent nailing it down.

Personally I think the heart of the "Sprinkles" is word choice. One or two perfectly chosen, tactile, words can mean more than whole paragraphs of description. Whether they be gorgeous verbs or evocative nouns, the words you choose should do double and triple duty.

I just started reading a new book called The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern. She's BRILLIANT at using sprinkles sparingly but effectively. Her chapters are only a few pages long, her scenes short and powerful because she makes every word chosen work to develop characters, scenes, emotions, settings, and consequences all at the same time. I've rarely found a writer who I feel so controls her language. I highly recommend seeing how she manages to create so much with so little. (The book, so far, is masterful and enchanting.)

For example, in a chapter set in New York, February 1873, there is only one paragraph of description for the location, a theater, in the whole chapter. It has three sentences, but that is enough. Morgenstern chooses very specific items to describe in one or two words and the whole theater, city, and characters are made completely real. I'm blown away by her talent - such brevity is not in my nature.

"The manager takes the girl to his office, not knowing what else to do with her. She sits quietly on an uncomfortble chair beneath a line of framed posters advertising past productions, surrounded by boxes of tickets and receipts. The manager brings her a cup of tea with an extra lump of sugar, but it remains on the desk, untouched, and grows cold."

I do think that J.K Rowling is an interesting example of great use of sprinkles and also poor uses of them. Take the first book- it's less than half the size of some of the later books, but completely brings to life the world of Harry Potter. If you read her descriptions of the different little additions - they are very short, using adjectives that evoke a specific response and absolutely no more. The details she describes - the ghosts, the food, the games, the classes - do double duty too. Yes they are interesting, but they come up throughout the series, playing specific roles in plot and development. Her use of them is sparing in the first couple of books, describing them only when applicable and no more. I think most readers aren't interested in overflowing descriptions and details that have little value to the story other than the author found them fun to imagine up. At the beginning of her series career, she needed brevity to hook her readers.

However, in later books, particularly in five on, the books become oversaturated with details that are a lot less necessary and a lot more fun. By then, as readers, we were ok with extra details because they added to our overall enjoyment of the world. We were no longer wondering if Hogwards was a world we wanted to involve ourselves in, we were already residing there in our heads. She could get away with more scenes that did not directly add to the plot at the time or ever. I do not think that most writers can get away with that much additional information that doesn't further the plot.

[MattLarkin]

I totally don't want to be annoying, but don't write about things that don't matter. Spend your time figuring out what does - and that isn't always apparent. It's sort of a trick you have to practice writing and recognizing in others.

That's almost exactly what I was going to say.

Jen's question almost seems more along the lines of how to add in foreshadowing for things that will matter later? Is that right, Jen?

Another aspect of your examples is that they matter to subplots. The subplots (the romances, for example) have some effect of the main plot, of course, but they matter in-and-of-themselves, as aspects of your book's overall plot. Perhaps you need to more realize some of your subplots, and those will flesh out your world more?

[JustAnotherJen]

I think I made a mistake when titling this thread. I understand the importance of not including things that don't matter. I'm struggling with how to include things that need to matter but don't yet. How to make every element work as part of a greater whole. It's not about foreshadowing (although that's good to think about sometimes), it's just about depth and texture. It's about making the world, the characters, and the story all believable. Sometimes I just want to move right from one major event to the next, but it doesn't work that way (or shouldn't). There needs to be more in between. I've got my subplots really well outlined, but maybe I need some sub-subplots. Anyway, I appreciate everyone's input.

[polymath]

A writing principle I learned this week that knocked me over: methods that authenticate a narrative. They run the gamut of SPICED's elements. Setting; for example, time, place, and situation, absolute and relative situation, that influence central characters are causal and problematic and purposeful and complicating in terms of Plot. Idea in terms of theme, situating a narrator's standing, absolute or relative, to a topic for the purpose of expressing attitude--voice and narrative point of view in terms of Discourse. Events are a fundamental circumstance for plot. They are causal-logical circumstances which drive tension from antagonism, though, in and of themselves, events aren't necessarily exclusively connected to plot, though distinguishably separate from plot, are indivisible.

Minor setting details, extras characters, quirky behaviors and personalities, unexpected events, ambiguous outcomes, otherwise trivial yet larger-than-life ideas that don't seem on their surfaces to matter begin to matter when they authenticate a narrative. When they also drive causation, build tension, and escalate antagonism they are dramatically artful.

[TaylorNapolsky]

The thing is, Rowling's world she made is so full of entertaining tidbits, she could incorporate stuff going on in the classroom while the characters had dialogue. Get it? The plot is moving forward, via mundane conversation, and yet everything is still so fun to read, thanks to all the funny stuff happening in the background ie. pulling those screaming plants out of pots, Snape watching them in potion's class, those weird skrewts running everywhere etc.

Sure, sometimes she made these little tidbits more important to the plot, but not always.

In that way, the environment helps the plot of all seven books flow in an entertaining, hilarious way. She could have done it for 17 books probably, wouldn't have mattered.

In Twilight, even when Bella is at home relaxing, she usually has a werewolf guarding the house, or Edward sneaking into her room through the window. You don't just have her carrying conversation with nothing else happening. They are running through the woods at high speed, they are driving at high speed, they are playing a mighty game of baseball. They are crashing motorcycles. Edward is playing the piano brilliantly. That one guy is throwing up in a movie theater.

So as you push the plot forward, you have to make sure what is happening in the background is entertaining.

I really hope some people pay attention to what I just explained!

[dios4vida]

So as you push the plot forward, you have to make sure what is happening in the background is entertaining.

This is a really interesting thought. I never considered it before, but you're so right! When you have to move forward, it's much easier to stick with it when there's something fun happening. It can work to add humor, lighten a bad situation, draw us into the scene...so many possibilities!!

Thanks for pointing this out, Taylor.

[Sean Cunningham]

And, well, I don't want to have meaningless dialogue with them talking about the pretty trees.

There's an episode of the TV show Chuck in which, from memory, Chuck and his best friend Morgan are having an excruciatingly detailed argument about the contents of an ideal sandwich. It's utterly irrelevant to the main story, except that it's done to tweak the nose of the listening spy, and to demonstrate the the strength of Chuck's friendship with Morgan and how much he values it.

Your set of high school friends have several years of shared experiences, good and bad, embarrassing and fulfilling. I don't know where you're going with the scene, but I'm sure they have a few things to talk about.

[dios4vida]

There's an episode of the TV show Chuck in which, from memory, Chuck and his best friend Morgan are having an excruciatingly detailed argument about the contents of an ideal sandwich.

I loved that conversation.