Oh, hello there.
I am Professor Write-A-Lot
and I now possess this corner of The VERB because I know everything
about writing.
See, I have a stick. Only those who know everything about writing are allowed a stick.
Do come in. Please
ignore the scattered manuscripts, step over the stacked books and avoid
the dog's bone. You have a question, do you? Very well. Ask away,
and I shall share my brilliance!
Dear
Professor Write-A-Lot,
I have written what I thought were Historical Romance novels . . . set
mainly during the War of Independence. Despite this, I am not sure if my
works fit into a particular Romance category. Is there any criteria for
defining the "Romance" novel? Mine are gritty and realistic as befitting
the times, and with the obstacles to the main protagonists and their
love woven throughout. So I am wondering if I should classify them as
Mainstream rather than Romance? And what is Mainstream anyway? Confused.
My, I do enjoy a hearty questioner!
Prepare oneself, then, to feel confused no more. <Clears throat.>
A romance is a story about two people falling in love. The mating
ritual—that exquisite mystery, that universal pleasure—is the driving
force. A great romance allows us to experience the ebb and
flow of sexual tension: the flirting, the fighting, the making up, the
conquering of conflicts, the longing, the anticipation of the future.
And, if done well, it might teach us a thing or two about our concept of
love.
That is not to say the lovebirds reside
within a rosy bubble. The outside world—be it past, present or
future—should penetrate, but always in a secondary
capacity. The unflinching focus is the pursuit of the relationship.
In this case, our lovers have been dropped into a war, which is an extremely
popular maneuver. The two most romanticized events in American history
are the Revolutionary War and the Civil War. Why? They promise great
conflict. But be forewarned! One can easily lose oneself among the
devastating battles, the brave soldiers, the poetic language, and other
riveting aspects of this long ago world. Rather than simply add a
substantive milieu, these historical facts could actually take over the
story and push the love affair so deep into the background, it becomes
irrelevant. If this happens, one is no longer within the realm of
romance.
Thus leading us, ever so gently, to the
second portion of the question. Should one hop off the Romance wagon and
hitch a ride with the Mainstream Express? Of course this is impossible to answer
definitively without reading the manuscript. Suffice to say, the Mainstream category
encompasses stories not easily defined. They have a wide appeal, usually
character-driven, yet
transcend all known genres. If one's story contains a dash of drama, a
dash of comedy, a touch of romance, a hint of mystery, etc., but not one of
these elements looms above all others—one's
story would fit comfortably on the
Mainstream track.
Thereby, ask oneself: When are my
lovebirds introduced? If it is not in the first chapter, one's focus is
elsewhere. Revise, or reclassify, accordingly.
Dear
Professor Write-A-Lot,
If a literary agent rejects me, why shouldn't
I want my manuscript returned?
It's a matter of finances and human
nature. You will have to pay for return postage, and after awhile that
could become quite costly. Your manuscript will most likely return in
bad shape, making it impossible to re-use. People naturally drink, eat,
smoke and even bathe while reading. Accidents happen. Let it go.
Incidentally, allow me to correct a
prevalent yet misguided notion. Literary agents do not reject you,
they reject your submission. Never confuse the two. Never let it
stop you from trying again.
Dear
Professor Write-A-Lot,
My main character has entered a
crowd, and I feel dizzy. How do I go about describing that many people?
First, one must establish the importance
of the crowd. If the character intentionally faces a group of people,
such as popping into a party or a courtroom, he would naturally notice
specifics. In these cases, where the pace has slowed, the insertion of facial expressions, attire, mannerisms and
overheard conversations would be altogether fitting.
If, however, he
simply moves through the crowd, such as chasing a thief through a
mall or running toward a burning house, he would not notice those around
him. In these cases, where the pace is
much faster, the wisest course is to show the crowd as simply a barrier between
himself and his goal. Follow his focus.
Dear
Professor Write-A-Lot,
What's the
most important thing for a writer to do in the first chapter?
Show a character in
motion.
It’s an indisputable fact human beings like to watch other human beings.
No matter how sensational your fictional world may be, it won’t connect
until you’ve given it a human element.
Dear
Professor Write-A-Lot,
Is
ladder a verb?
It is. One
may ladder a wall whenever one likes. In some areas of the world, one
may also ladder one's apparel. He laddered his sock so it must've
been a bad injury.
Oddly
enough, I receive many questions concerning what is and what is not a
verb, and I can only attribute this curiosity to the title of this
ezine. I don't believe I need to say that had
one consulted a
dictionary, one would've received an answer much quicker.
Herewith, a few online dictionaries one should bookmark. Refer to them
when one doesn't wish to leave one's seat to grab the literal one from the
shelf. (One does have a literal one on the shelf, yes?)
The Free Dictionary
Dictionary.com
Merriam Webster
Dear
Professor Write-A-Lot,
What do you think about prologues?
I think them unnecessary, and have been
known to zip past them with the speed of a frightened squirrel. The
debate exists within the writing industry whether folk still read
prologues. I suspect as long as writers write them, some readers will
read them. Let's see, shall we? Our poll this month asks just that. I'm
curious to see the results.
Ask
Professor Write-A-Lot!
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