Hi Reader,
To start, thank you to everyone who filled out the survey I sent earlier this month! The consensus is that you all love learning from live workshops, which is perfect because I used to be a teacher! I'm already making plans to roll out a live class next month, so stay tuned for more information!
Now, let's talk about throwing food on the floor.
If you follow me on Instagram, you've probably seen the newest addition to the OHW team - my puppy, Minerva. If you haven't, you can see her in all her adorable glory right here.
One thing I've learned over the past three months of puppy parenthood is that Minerva prefers to eat food that has been thrown on the floor.
Yup, no bowls for this pup.
She wants to hunt her food down across the kitchen floor or sniff it out from within the folds of her blanket.
If we do leave her food in the bowl, she'll forget to eat until she's ravenous.
Now, what does this have to do with writing?
Your readers want the same thing Minerva does. Okay, they don't actually want to eat dog food off the floor. But when it comes to reading, they don't want information spoon fed to them.
Part of what makes reading fun is the experience of hunting for clues, unpacking subtext, and watching the whole story unfold piece-by-piece.
Writers often worry that readers won't "get" their stories and that's a valid concern. But it's easy to go too far. Too much worldbuilding, too much foreshadowing, too much back story, too much description, etc. When we give readers more than we need, we risk pushing them out of the story completely.
I'm also often surprised by how much readers can pick up from subtext. Here's an example.
I was working on ruthlessly cutting words from my current work-in-progress. I had to cut anything that wasn't 100% necessary, but I was worried that I would lose too much of my story in the process.
I started with this:
Erro leaned back in his chair, hoping to copy his father’s pose. The chair wobbled beneath him. His foot shot to the ground to steady him. His cheeks burned with shame and anger. Another one of his father’s ploys, no doubt.
Strayde made no sign that he’d noticed Erro’s movements.
This scene is all about a father and son having a tense, but restrained, argument. I realized it wasn't 100% necessary for Erro to think that his father messed with the chair so I cut the paragraph down to this:
Erro leaned back in his chair, hoping to copy his father’s relaxed pose. The chair wobbled beneath him.
Strayde showed no sign he’d noticed Erro’s movements.
Then, I took this scene to a writing class for feedback. No one in the group had read it before. But guess what?
One of the first people to comment said, "I wonder if his dad messed with his chair." The rest of the room nodded in agreement.
How did they get there? The father's characterization showed readers he was the type of person who might mess with his son like that. I didn't have to tell readers anything because the moment spoke for itself.
This is the true power of "showing" in your novel. When you show readers who your characters are and how your world functions, they get to fill in the blanks for themselves. They get to bring their own insights & knowledge to the table. They get to engage with your story in a powerful way.
So, go forth and throw the food on the floor for your readers. They'll appreciate you for it.
Happy Writing!
Olivia
P.S. As with many aspects of fiction writing, there is a fine line between too little and too much. Need help finding the balance for yourself? I'm here to help! Request a free sample edit or book a discovery call today!
600 1st Ave, Ste 330 PMB 92768, Seattle, WA 98104-2246
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