Sparked by FIREGIRL...

In writing the following review of one of my new favorite children’s books, I learned a painful lesson about a problem in one of my own book projects—a problem I did not see clearly until now. More on that later....

Here’s the review: Firegirl, by Tony Abbott , is a middle-grade novel that I want every one of my students to read—even the ones older than 13. The first word that comes to my mind to describe this book is HONEST. The second is REALISTIC. The narrator is a 7th grade boy who crosses the invisible boundary created by his fearfully judgmental classmates between themselves and the new girl--a horribly disfigured, lonely burn victim. He first communicates with her not out of courage, but out of obligation; he then befriends her not out of heroic compassion, but out of poignant empathy.

Tom is not an author’s mouthpiece, a puppet-like hero character who acts extraordinarily mature or philosophical to show other characters, as well as readers, how to act toward people who are different and suffering because of their differences. No, Tom is an ordinary, awkward, insecure, and sincere middle-school boy, which is why his reluctant boundary crossing makes him a realistic hero in the end. He admits to being afraid of his burned friend, and to feeling scared about speaking up for her. His fear is how readers connect to him, and his admirable introspective ability evolves naturally from his experience, rather than appearing as a gift with which the author has blessed him, conveniently, to help teach a lesson. This book offers, in addition to a heart-warming story, a writing lesson in characterization—a lesson I have learned.

The main character in my middle-grade novel has been called “too good” and “too wise” by some of the fellow authors who have critiqued my novel-in-progress. Though my protagonist’s hardships helped him develop his introspective quality, he communicates his acquired wisdom far too well, I realize, to be believable. He needs to be more awkward, less confident, more himself, less me. Even if my story has a fantastical bent, my character will garner more love if he is more like my readers. An “Aha!” moment…

THIS IS WHY NOVELISTS SHOULD REVISE BASED NOT ONLY ON CRITIQUES AND THE ADVICE OF OTHER PROFESSIONAL WRITERS, BUT ALSO—AND MOST IMPORTANTLY—ON THE LESSONS LEARNED FROM READING NOVELS IN OUR GENRES UNTIL WE FIND THE PARTICULAR NOVEL THAT PRESENTS THE PARTICULAR LESSON THAT PERFECTLY APPLIES TO OUR PARTICULAR STORY. Whereas the critiques I have received have certainly helped me, reading Firegirl has fanned the sparks I’ve received from others into a blazing recognition. Now off to revise I go…for the last time, I hope.

Prompted by a Clever Email...

"To be sure of hitting the target, shoot first and call whatever you hit the target."

A friend of mine just emailed me a list of lines like that one, lines called "paraprosdokian," which make the reader back up and reread, smiling with a new understanding. One of the best emails I've received in years! I plan to use many of the lines as writing prompts for my students, but first I will use the one above as a prompt for my own writing, here....

What a circular feat of marksmanship, when you can declare yourself a bulls-eye no matter where your mark lands! This reminds me of people I've met who need to win at everything (or at least to appear successful), so they reinvent the goals as they pursue them, so that they can always end with the convincing assertion, "That's exactly what I meant to do/say/prove," no matter what happens. This is like the author whose book gets banned for actually inciting drug use among teen readers, but rather than express remorse or outrage, the author nods and says, "It's a sad consequence, but that's why I had to write those passages--to bring forward those predisposed to drug abuse, so that they could be treated and helped." Random consequences that seem to "miss the mark" thus disappear when the end is not predetermined. It's like the justification, "Obviously, this just wasn't meant to be then," when used as a cover up for feelings of inadequacy. That's not to say that I don't think "things happen for a reason," or some occurrences are "meant to be." I do. I just DON'T think they serve as rationalizations for missing one's mark; I thing that part of pursuing one's goals with integrity and tenacity is the equal ability of admitting one's inadequate results, with the aim of finding a more effective manner to pursue similar goals in the future.

Similarly, some take credit where none is due, claiming that they intentionally "hit the mark" when they did so accidentally. But to save face, they move their target, so to speak. One of my poems was once featured in a poetry analysis column in The Writer, and the columnist praised my poem for its Shakespearian double entendres in the final line--two of them. I knowingly created ONE of those double meanings, and only realized the second one when she pointed it out. I could have claimed, "Of course, that's exactly why I chose that word," but I'd be lying. (To this day, I tell that story to my students when pointing out some of their unintentional, serendipitously perfect word choices, making them laugh over their own subconscious, natural brilliance!)

The idea of changing the target as our shot lands also reminds me of using situational ethics--changing the rules to fit a context and serve one's ego. For instance, a person justifies accepting an illegally burned film on DVD, saying, "I'm only showing it to my friends because they'll get a thrill out of seeing the film before everyone else. It's not like I'm charging admission and making money off the filmmaker's work. THAT would be stealing, but this isn't." Translation: "My friends will think I'm cool for giving them a sneak preview, AND for saving them money." Never mind the fact, when pointed out to the DVD "owner," that the friends would have been paying patrons of the film if they had to wait to see it in a theater! That's not stealing? Change the definition, change the legitimacy. Aim for a fixed target and you could end up on the outer rim, or worse, on the dirt beside the target. But move the target to meet the flying arrow, and you're sure to seem like a winner.

That paraprosdokian pondering sheds light on the irony of self-righteousness in a world governed by relativity. We cannot "miss our marks" in the absence of clearly defined, stationary targets/goals/values. But is hitting the mark really as important as the manner in which we aim? And is missing what we aimed for actually something to be ashamed of, or an opportunity for continued growth?

Moving Pictures

Writing that comes alive in a reader's mind uses what I call the D.A.D. Technique(Description, Action, and Dialogue) to connect the movie playing in the writer's imagination to the blank screen in the reader's head. The vivid verbal movie is in "HD" and "3D" when the writer employs multisensory imagery and realistic dialogue, along with revealing close ups on characters, to transfer the footage to the reader. Writing that uses only dialogue conveys a mere audio clip, with a blank picture. Writing that uses only visual description without enough action serves as a mere slide show; whereas action scenes, with little description and no dialogue, portray nothing more than a silent movie in the reader's cerebral screen.

Memorable words comprise experiences, first conceived in a writer's mind, and then translated into words that SHOW, not merely tell about the scene. If we writers cannot get a clear picture of a scene in our own heads, we are not yet ready to transfer that scene to paper, and then to a reader's mind. Writing to communicate word pictures requires time to imagine and time to craft a preview version, time to share the preview, and time to revise it before the debut of the fully developed feature film of words.

As books move more and more to screens over pages, we writers need to keep in mind the importance of creating memorable images to compete with our sister industry, that of Film.