Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Chickens vs. Eggs

Writing conferences are filled with people who are constantly looking for secrets, or tips and tricks that can help them write like the authors they've come to see. What always strikes me is that most of these well intended folks have never actually written a book themselves; they seem to be looking for a magic key, as if someone else's opinion or habit can make up for a questionable talent or ability of their own.

If you can write, you write. Learning how to write a good book, or a good short story, requires a deeper knowledge of structure and storytelling than one can usually achieve by simply reading. Or by asking questions at writing conferences. There are many paths to this goal, and I'll have more to say about them in the future.

Say that you're a natural athlete. You have an above average gift of speed, coordination, strength, whatever, that translate into a high level of performance in sport without an extraordinary amount of effort. Contrast this with a person not blessed with such attributes but who has a strong desire, a strong heart, to participate. With much work and dedication, they can achieve a high level on the field, even approaching that of the natural athlete. Although they can probably never fly as high, especially if the natural works hard as well, they can fill roles and reach a certain competence.

I used to think the same thing was true of writers but now I'm not so sure. More and more I think that an inherent ability must be present to write well, and that it must be fostered and nurtured in able to produce good works. The talent for writing must exist and the craft then can be learned.

So when someone at a conference asks, "What's more important in a novel, characterization or plot?" I can't help but put them in the naturally born clueless category. If you have to ask, doesn't that belie a fundamental lack of understanding of the (good) novel?

Nevertheless, at this year's SleuthFest conference in South Florida, thriller writer Barry Eisler provided an interesting answer. Eisler writes about a half Japanese, half American contract killer who specializes in making his hits appear as accidents. His books are slick and he's an engaging writer but after reading the first out of his three books (so far), I think he may be facing an uphill battle with his series based on a fundamentally unsympathetic character. So much so I wonder if in the future his assassin will turn out to be working for "the good guys" or some such reversal. We'll see.

Anyway, Eisler boldly stated that characterization was more important and that what's more, he'd prove it. Bold words, especially if you don't think he can do it. He used three examples in recent history, including a deadly mine accident in China. Although we knew that a number of people died and died horribly, it didn't really affect us personally, did it? Likewise for his other examples. This is because, Eisler said, none of us knew any of these people and therefore, realistically, it was difficult to care about whatever fates may have befallen them.

But how would you feel if some son of a bitch cut you off in traffic this morning, causing you to spill your hot coffee across the legs of your brand new pair of khakis? You'd probably be cursing the bastard throughout the whole day, into the evening, and probably the next morning's drive as well. Why so? Because it affected you; it was personal in a trivial but much more keenly felt way than what happened to a slew of poor miners in China. The earthquake as plot was much more dramatic than an illegal lane change but it's difficult to really find yourself caring. You're simply not affected.

By god, I thought, he did prove it.

On the other hand, characterization is still not more important than plot: it's a faulty question. Neither one is more important than the other, you must have both. If you have created wonderful, identifiable characters that can reach and touch the reader, they still have to have something to do or the book won't accomplish anything. And that something to do must be interesting as well, hopefully as fresh and inventive as your characters have become, or again you will have created a partially formed thing that falls short of what it aspires to.

To be fair, Eisler admitted the need for both, but more as a footnote to his argument. He still, I thought, emphasized character over plot, and that may be valid as long as the writer pays attention to both. In any case, I salute Eisler for his argument and enjoyed his ability to back up his assertion. I'll read his next two books at least and hope he continues to write and can somehow make me care about a guy who kills people who don't seem to deserve it. But the next time someone at a conference asks a writer this kind of question, I'd love to hear them say, "Go home, write your book, and then you tell me." The real writers probably will.

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