Six Poles
Planets are boring; they only have two poles. Books are interesting, because they have at least five or six poles, which define the shape of the whole.
Here they are:
External jeopardy
In a huge number of books, the possibility that a big bad thing happens animates the entire reading experience. If you’re reading a thriller, or anything in that zone, the external jeopardy (eg: will the baddies blow up the White House?) is likely to be the single dominating component of your overall structure. The question provoked in the reader is, roughly, what happens next? That’s the basic question underpinning all suspense novels.
Mystery
In pretty much all crime novels, but in plenty of other books too, there’s also a big element of mystery. Here, the question isn’t what happens next, but what did happen? Who killed Colonel Higgins in the library? Why where there no footprints in the flowerbed? Why was the butler seen with an unwaxed moustache and an unbuttoned waistcoat? Why did the library smell of burned almonds and gently warmed honey?
Mystery is not as powerful a driver of story as suspense, but it’s still reasonably powerful (ask Agatha Christie) and it’s particularly successful when combined with plenty of suspense.
Emotion
Most books involve a bit of love interest, or some other powerful emotional centre – a missing child, a dying parent.
Plenty of novels have that emotional interest as their object of overwhelming concern. So, yes, most romances will have some notes of external jeopardy: for example, in Pride & Prejudice, there’s the question of whether Wickham will debauch the silly Lydia and ruin the family. But these things are deeply secondary to the big emotional question of whether he/she is going to get it together with him/her.
These emotional questions are one of suspense – that is, they look forward, not back – but they’re worth separating out from the issue of external jeopardy, simply because most novels (including all of mine) have issues of external jeopardy playing alongside more traditional romance. They feel like, and are, different elements.
Morality
Pretty much all novels (and again, all of mine) also run up against significant moral questions. Those moral questions are typically entangled with other aspects of story. So, in romances, the Mister typically needs to prove his moral worth (eg: ride to Lydia’s rescue) in order to give the romance its final delicious bite. Or in crime novels, the detective/investigator is typically confronted with taxing moral challenges en route to solving the crime.
Beauty
At the more literary end of the spectrum, there’s another element to take into account: how beautiful is the writing? How deliciously quotable are the sentences? This is book as objet d’art: something you almost want to hang on the wall and coo at.
Humour
Last and probably least, there’s humour. A bark of laughter is so different from everything else we’ve considered, that it’s worth teasing out into its own category. A romance or a thriller or a ghost story or a literary novel could be glumly serious from start to finish, or it could make you gurgle with laughter. You can have romantic comedies, and romantic tragedies, and romantic adventures, and they’ll all have a different feel. Same thing with any other genre. Some books make you laugh, others don’t. There’s another pole right there.
**
Now I mention all this partly because it’s of interest in itself to lay these pieces out on the counter for inspection.
But I was also inspired to write this email by watching my kids cook. They are still of an age where they think that more of any ingredient must be better. We made lemon and ginger tea this morning, for example. Lemon is good, so they added plenty of that. And honey, so plenty of that. Ditto ginger. And obviously mint is good, so handfuls of that were added. There was no sense of proportion, balancing this ingredient against that one, so the result was a very full saucepan and a brew so thick it needed loads of dilution before it was actually palatable. If I’d let them add salt and mayonnaise and pineapple chunks, they’d probably have added them too. After all, who doesn’t love mayonnaise?
Now I’ll admit: my approach to writing is broadly the same. Humour’s good: I want plenty of that. Romance: yep, bring it on. Mystery? I write detective novels, so I need plenty of that. But my books need to thrill, so I want a very high jeopardy climax. And I want my writing to shine stylistically, so I work at that too. And inevitably, given the kind of stories I write and the character I write about, moral issues creep in there too, and I do what I can to make real space for those too.
It’s probably true that my books are above all suspense novels: if they weren’t exciting, nobody would read them. It’s the proper delivery of that element which allows me to get away with everything else.
And that basic model does work. In fact, it’s probably the primary way to write a book. Choose your lead element (suspense in my case, with a heavy dash of mystery) then see how much you can ratchet the other things up.
But it’s not the only model. If you write a really funny book, for example, the laughter is likely to drown any more subtle shades. Likewise, you can certainly slot a romance into a thriller with some end-of-the-world type hook, but the romance is almost certainly (and ought certainly) to be secondary.
More interestingly, there’s quite a lot of high-end and critically lauded literary work where the beautiful writing tends to shove aside everything else. I’ve just finished reading a book, Lanny by Max Porter, where the writing is unquestionably stunning. It’s original, poetic, versatile, funny, surprising – everything you think you might want from a literary novel.
But the book told a story about a boy vanishing from his home, and possibly abducted. The denouement reveals the true story and delivers (small spoiler) a happy ending. But honestly? The writing overwhelmed the story and the characters too. The boy himself never quite felt real. The parents’ own feelings creaked under the weight of lovely writing laid on top of them.
To my mind, those failures spell disaster. If you tell a story about an abducted child and you don’t feel much resonance with either the child or the parents, then something’s gone wrong. (That is, I accept, a personal view: plenty of people love those books, or say they do, or give literary prizes to them. But how many of those people actually read every word of those books, I wonder?)
The question I have for you is where does your story score on each of its dimensions? Are you a shove everything in kind of writer? Or do you have one very clear lead element with the others left trailing in the background.
I suspect that most of us should take one of two approaches:
- Choose a lead element and make it exceptional. If it’s about beautiful writing, then be really beautiful. If you’re writing a thriller, then make it utterly thrilling. If your book isn’t going to be rounded
- Choose a lead element or two, and see how much of the other elements you can bring in without breaking things. The trick here is keeping the coherence of your lead elements intact, while bringing other things into play. It’s good if your book is funny – but you can’t let too much laughter kill your high-jeopardy denouement, or take away the sweetness of that finally fulfilled romance.
And one of the purposes of this email is to nudge you if there’s anything you’ve forgotten.
There’s some Woody Allen film where he’s getting ready for a big night out. We see him checking his jacket, adjusting his hair, building his confidence. Then he’s ready – he leaves the room – the camera stays running – and we see him rush back in: he’s forgotten to wear trousers.
This email is asking you to check that you are wearing trousers. Have you just forgotten to tease out the morally difficult areas of your story? Is there a mystery you are neglecting? Is your handling of that secondary romance just lacking?
Because, as writers, we concentrate so hard on getting our lead elements arranged correctly, we can som1etimes forget to think about all those other things. So think about them, right?
Add mayonnaise.
And pineapple.
Mayonnaise. In tea? Of any sort?
I’m all for the pineapple – it belongs in, or on, everything, including pizza – but mayo in tea would separate, and that would make for one rather unpalatable mess…
Don’t they add butter to tea somewhere in the world? I think Mongolia? Or Nepal?
Yak butter is a thing in Tibet. Salt too. I have a story about that. Short moral: never finish your tea in Tibet.
As ever, a great and thought-provoking article. I don’t think that one can, in such an array of ingredients, say that there is a least important item on the list. A good recipe can be spoiled by the tiniest amount of the wrong ingredient. But as you say, it does all depend on the genre you are writing in, what combination you use. Mastery of those ingredients, as you do for your genre, is what shows the good chef from the eager kids. All ingredients are good in the right place and in the right amount, and bad in the wrong place and in the wrong amount.
Incidentally, the Earth (and presumably other planets too) has more than two poles. There are the two strong poles we know as North and South, as well as up to eight other far weaker poles. It seems, maybe unsurprisingly, that nature and writing aren’t too dissimilar after all 🙂
Erin, that’s a superfantastic fact about the POles. I’m off to Google it, to see if it’s true. If it is, I’m putting mayo in my tea.
I have not tried that. Vegan mayo may work better for you, though I think both ordinary and vegan will seperate in the heat as soya milk does. I shall try and come back to you. 😉
It’s clear what you mean by ‘beautiful writing’, Harry, and it can just float over characters. But beautiful writing can also strengthen the resonance with a character, or a world, or deepen an emotion which has been built up. That is true in the novels of Michael Ondaatje that I know. I’m not suggesting that any of us here are Michael Ondaatje, but it’s something to aim for.
Unlike Rick, I’m not for the pineapple. Especially given the way it sits on the curds in your photo, which shows the kind of middle America salads my mother used to make, right down to the cherry. I’ve never since been able to eat Dole pineapple.
Don;t blame the pineapple, Janet. It’s the curds that are offensive there.
I’m not ‘blaming’ the pineapple. Dole just cannot compare with fresh. FYI, I make a mean pizza with fresh pineapple & roasted peppers. 😉
To get away from pineapple for a moment – great writing is great; I just think it shouldn’t smother the characters. With some famed writers it totally does.
The devil is certainly in the details, but I don’t know if my brain can handle one more thing to check…🤯! Hold the mayo—please—on everything except coleslaw. Fresh pineapple? Wonderful!
No mayo on chips? (read french-fries) impossible.
This makes me laugh—my favorite thing on ”chips” is the Brit salt & vinegar.
There’s another approach that will make or break the whole novel: it’s the underlying theme. Without one, a novel may as well fall into oblivion.
Yes, we all know what a romance is, what a thriller is, what a mistery is, but without an underlying theme, a novel risks being forgotten. The underlying theme gives it a purpose, a “raison d’être”, makes the novel transcend the story and embed itself in our memory.
Example: Pride and Prejudice. Everyone knows it’s a romance, proud Lizzy gets to meet prejudiced Mr Darcy and when it seems all is lost they finally get together and fall in love… Obviously a romance, and a very well written one, right? But how many similar romances are there? Zillions, most of them long lost in oblivion. But why are readers still reading and enjoying this one, 200 years after it was first published?
Because of the underlying theme: Pride and Prejudice is about personal freedom, about the freedom to make your own choices and have your own opinions and ideas, choose your own life. And this underlying theme — personal freedom — is still relevant today and resonates with most readers. It does not age.
I usually start by choosing a theme that I’m passionate about. The story (and genre) comes from that theme. All the other “ingredients” can be added on, one by one. The underlying theme gives me a purpose to write the story and keeps everything glued together.
What is your underlying theme?
My primary writing project, a trilogy, has evolved over many years. From the outset, the underlying theme has been deception linked to the morality of the privileged and entitled class in British politics.
So how does the theme of deception fit into the story?
The overall premise is that the collapse of the Soviet Union and losing the Cold War had been part of a long term KGB three-pronged “Triple-Edge” strategy of deception and to instigate socio-economic disruption in Europe, notably the United Kingdom (Harry’s External jeopardy element).
Deception is evident within and between the former KGB, MI6, Politicians (British, French, Italian and Russian), Italian and Russian Mafias, right-wing groups and the City of London as part of their interactions with the privileged and entitled class in British politics.
I would like to think that I have included the elements that Harry mentioned but?????
I find current politics offers a rich and never ending source of themes: ruthless pursuit of power & ambition, corruption, disregard for integrity & honesty, brainwashing, subversion, lying, racism, misogyny, etc. From any of these themes, we can spin many a story in different genres, from romance & adultery, to crime, to historical, to drama, to dystopian…
There’s a quote from one of our politicians that I intend to use in a story: “A man should not be limited to just one woman”. (Guess which one…) And the answer to that is “It takes a real man to realize that one woman is enough”.
There was a discussion in another forum about the possession of guns in the US and a couple of people commented that the solution to gun crime is to allow more people to have guns and teach them how to use them. This lead me to think of a good theme for a novel: a dystopian future in the US where nobody relies on the justice system and social structures and each individual takes the law into their own hands, according to their own interpretaion of it, while different social forces grow on online networks, each vying to influence & control the others. Could be the next “Handmaid’s Tale”…?
Very good thought that. But I wonder if the theme isn’t a cocktail stick that goes right through everything else. But you’re right, it belonged on that list in some way.
Sneaking a read of my WIP again Harry? Pointing out my errors? I know I need to add, delete, then thoroughly polish what is left. When I finally replace my laptop and can start editing again, I think I will try building more friction between Myron, the old detective, and Clancy the just hired on the force kid. I have established that Myron can be grouchy and I also have Clancy wanting Myron to reach him how to be a good detective. I’ll try moving the “I want to learn” part closer to the middle or even further toward the end and show more of Clancy getting on Myron’s nerves. Hopefully I can make this will work – if not perhaps I can persuade Harry to ghost-write.
Ha, ha! Ghostwriting is a dodgy gig, tbh. Ask Elmore Leonard – he’s a better writer, and a proper ghost.
Ah yes, ghost he is and one I need to read more of.
I love this! I can’t believe how much great value there is in your email. So useful. Thanks!
Love it. And can’t help thinking that the mix we choose is a matter of personality. Let that fly and the mix will provide a clear and individual voice too. Just a few more things to add to the ever-growing checklist however.
Hi, G! And yes, that never-ending checklist. Sigh …
I can’t help myself adding a slice of wry humour when the going gets tough. When I feel the need for a cathartic guffaw, I’m guessing my readers do too. I’m with DMC on themes. I am having trouble with my book’s genre though. Thriller? Not really. Mystery? Certainly not. Romance? Only a dash. Science fiction or fantasy? Not if I can help it. Autobiography? Move along there please. Nothing to see. Literary fiction? Are you joking? Adventure? Only if you squint at it with one eye.
So it’s an agent’s worst nightmare. Something that might not look right. But I don’t care anymore. The story calls to me. There’s a cast of characters now that gossip behind my back if I don’t get on with their tales. Yesterday I had a near tragic road crash simply because I discovered Commer van’s handbrakes are connected to the front wheels.
I’ve had to accept my book, filled with stuff I care about and rattling around in my head for years just is what it is. I can’t stop now. I’ve had to accept that few may ever read any of it, but it is a delight to write and maybe the one I have to get out of my system before I get to grips with a more marketable effort. Who wants to read about the jeapody faced by a community of bacteria in the gut of a lizard when a new strain arrives on the block? Ok. I lied about that last bit.
I sympathise with you. I’m in the same boat, I’ve taken up other writing projects including two NaNoWriMo during which I wrote more than 60,000 and 70,000 words on totally different themes but then the bug of THE story comes back.
Yep, gotta obey The Voice …
I’ve hit a problem with the issue in this post. My first novel is primarily an historical thriller, but with secondary, but major, theme of a love story. The response from my Jericho-appointed mentor was that the “emotional heart” of the story wasn’t apparent, and that I should choose between the thriller and the love story. Where to go?