Tag: tips for writers

Is an Author’s Intent Irrelevant?

January 14, 2019 / Kyle A. Massa

Author Intent

“I just thought he was insane.”

This is one reader’s take on the titular protagonist of my novel, Gerald Barkley Rocks. I must admit, it makes sense. After all, my protagonist interacts with a character no one else can see. And, without giving too much away, he has some pretty odd experiences, ones that can’t be confirmed by any other character. So I can see why readers might think it’s all in his head rather than actually happening. The thing is, that wasn’t my intention.

Is this a problem? If readers extract meaning that an author doesn’t intend, has the author messed up? And here’s the central question: Does an author’s intent even matter?

The Writer’s Fear

I’m reading Philip Pullman’s Daemon Voices right now and I think he addresses this topic astutely. In the essay “Intention,” Pullman describes the phenomenon like this:

“What seems to be going on here is the feeling that reading is a sort of test, which the reader passes or fails according to how closely the interpretation matches the one the author intended.”

This works the other way around, too. As writers, sometimes we want our readers interpretations to match our intent. If they differ, we might fear our writing failed a test of clarity. That’s how I felt when I first received the “I thought he was insane” feedback.

Yet Pullman addresses this topic again later in the book.

“Readers may interpret my work in any way they please…Believing as I do in the democracy of reading, I don’t like the sort of totalitarian silence that descends when there is one authoritative reading of any text.”

So is Phil right? Should I celebrate this alternative reading rather than fear it?

Yes, Phil’s Right

An author doesn’t decide what’s true. Rather, truth varies depending on who’s reading it. I didn’t intend for my protagonist to hallucinate anything, but, for any given reader, that doesn’t mean he didn’t.

Plus, unintended results are often some of the best. Take any B-movie as an example. If creator intent was absolute, these would just be bad movies. Yet if audiences choose to interpret them as comedies, they become far more enjoyable.

Take, for example, Troll 2. It’s a film about a family that moves to a small American town called Nilbog, (yes, that’s “goblin” spelled backwards). They’re terrorized by the townsfolk who turn out to be goblins disguised as humans. Yes, that’s right. A film called Troll 2 is actually about goblins.

That’s funny on its own—not that the filmmakers intended it. Rather, they named the film Troll 2 in order to mislead potential moviegoers into thinking the film was a sequel to a different (and unrelated) horror film. And that’s only the beginning. There’s also an omnipotent grandpa, a make-out scene in which popcorn is thrown onto the participants from off camera, and this famously awful line: “You can’t piss on hospitality! I won’t allow it!” All unintentional, and better for it.

I hope Gerald Barkley Rocks isn’t the Troll 2 of books, but you get the idea. All art is evaluated by interpretation. The artist presents the pieces. The reader, viewer, or listener arranges those pieces into whatever shape they like.

Conclusion

Feel free to read Gerald Barkley Rocks and let me know your interpretation. Because my intent is irrelevant. Thanks, Phil Pullman.

Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife and their two cats. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction. His debut novel, Gerald Barkley Rocks, is available now on Amazon Kindle.

3 Handy Proofreading Shortcuts

June 5, 2017 / Kyle A. Massa

I have a confession to make: I do not like proofreading. It takes time, it’s not especially fun, and I still seem to miss some errors. To quote Billy Joel, it would be nice if I could “Get it Right the First Time.”

But that’s wishful thinking on my part. There may not be any Billy Joel songs about proofreading—but that doesn’t mean it’s not essential. No one wants to read sloppy work.

Fortunately, we can make it easier on ourselves with a few tricks. Here are a few I like:

Read It Aloud to Yourself

Yes, our teachers were right. Reading work aloud forces us to pay closer attention to the words. If you stumble over a sentence, you’ll need to smooth it out. Or, try reading aloud to someone else. They’ll give you tips on the sentences that stick out.

This trick is especially effective with dialogue. You’ll notice details while listening that you won’t notice while reading. For example, I tend to append characters’ dialogue with the phrase “or something.” It’s sort of like my trademark, or something.

I’m not sure why, but my first-draft brain seems to think “or something” makes dialogue come alive. It doesn’t. I read my work aloud to catch them on the second go-around.

Use Your Computer’s Voice Command

Sometimes it helps to have your own work read back to you. This allows you to listen for any weirdness you might’ve missed while reading. However, you won’t always have a human reader handy. In that case, you can use your computer’s voice command.

I do this one all the time. I’m not sure how it would work on a Windows or Linux computer, but on a Mac, you set a keystroke command, then highlight the text you want to hear. Hit your command keys and a pleasant robot voice will read the words to you.

Be warned: this voice is emotionless. Think Ferris Buehler’s professor. It’s about listening for mistakes, not getting a sense of rhythm. (Unless a boring computer voice narrates your story. In which case, please feel free to exclusively use this method.)

Use Online Tools

Hemingway Rewritten is a pretty killer app for this proofreading. It gives you suggestions on how to make your writing more concise.

When you copy and paste a paragraph into Hemingway, the program highlights overlong and strangely-structured sentences (like this one). It also catches passive voice. Plus, Hemingway is totally free. I think we can all appreciate that.

Bonus Tip: Let Commentors Proofread for You

The internet loves finding flaws in everything. Therefore, if you make a mistake, you can be sure someone will notify you in the comments.

Boom. Free proofreading!

In Conclusion

Proofreading is like eating vegetables—it’s not especially fun, but it’s essential for growth. I hope these tips have been helpful (and more palatable than brussel sprouts).

Now please excuse me. I have to proofread this thing.

Subconflict, and Lots of It

September 6, 2016 / Kyle A. Massa

Novels are cool, but they’re tough to write.

I’ve been working on manuscript about a rock and roll star who inexplicably rises from the dead. Think Mick Jagger meets Jesus Christ. I think the premise is interesting and I like the characters, but once I really got into it, I found that the story was slowing down. It just wasn’t interesting to me anymore.

I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with my story until some time later, while I was reading Lisey’s Story by Stephen King (all hail his majesty). I got about a hundred pages in and realized the key difference between King’s book and mine: he had tons of subconflict, and I didn’t.

Of course, conflict is one of the cornerstones of story. If people aren’t fighting about something, then you don’t have much of a plot. I don’t think I quite realized just how much conflict you really need to sustain a reader’s interest for three, four, or five hundred pages.

Let’s look at Lisey’s Story for a moment. As you might’ve guessed, it’s a story about Lisey Landon, wife of late author Scott Landon. As I mentioned before, there’s a lot going on in Lisey’s life. She’s still coming to terms with the loss of her husband, while also figuring out what to do with his estate. In addition, her sister Amanda is on suicide watch. Also, a mysterious whacko is after Scott’s supposed lost manuscripts. Oh, and Lisey’s also being stalked by some kind of cosmic monster which only appears in reflective surfaces.

I count five separate conflicts in there. And those are just the most prominent ones.

Managing all this conflict can be pretty tough. On the one hand, once you set up your dominos, you should probably give them a push, right?

But here’s the tricky part: oftentimes, some conflicts should go unanswered. When books resolve all their conflicts neatly, you might feel like everything was a bit too easy.

For example, at the end of Lisey’s Story (spoilers ahead!), Lisey never defeats the monster that plagued her late husband and has now set its sights on her. In fact, by the end of the book, the creature might very well still get her at any time.

That might sound like a loose knot, but it really isn’t. It works because some of the best fiction mirrors life, and in life, there are some conflicts you’re just never going to solve. (Although hopefully if you’re being stalked by a cosmic horror, you can figure that one out.) Plus, I think it’s a mistake to answer all your readers’ questions. Don’t leave them satisfied—leave them wanting more!

When it comes to conflict, the challenge is to balance resolution with open-endedness. I think you’ll like the results.