Words To Live By

The worst draft in the world is infinitely better than the best unwritten story.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Unsympathetic Characters

My friend Jim -- you remember him, with the hair? -- he brought up a dilemma he's having.  His novel made the rounds of his writing group, and nobody liked it.  The problem, he suspects, is the main character, who is an utterly unlikable guy.

Now, from a writing standpoint this is a success, because he wrote an unpleasant character and people find the character convincingly unpleasant.  From a reader's standpoint, not so much, because who wants to let such a person into their heads for the time it takes to read a novel?

But it cuts both ways.  Literature would be nothing without a disproportionate share of weirdos, cranks, and no-goodniks among its sum of characters.  Books about pleasant people are terribly dull and usually illustrated and printed on boards for very young readers.  So how does a fellow make a story about someone thoroughly awful into something the reader wants to pursue?

I'm dealing with this myself in my latest novel.  At the center of it is a teenage boy and his hard-bitten father.  The old man is almost incapable of compromise or empathy.  He's incapable even of hope.  So I have to strike a balance between the father and son.  Otherwise -- too much father, nobody has any fun reading.  Too much son - we don't understand how the father can cause events to occur as they do.

And there's my answer --my very provisional answer, by no means a law, or even good advice -- to Jim's dilemma: you need a counterpuntal character.  It doesn't work for everybody, nor does it work all the time.  In fact, my book isn't working yet.  I haven't got the balance right.  But I know eventually it should answer the purpose.

What one needs, in other words, is a sympathetic, often subordinate or hapless character, someone who acts as our proxy and guide throughout the story.  Look at Theroux's Mosquito Cost, for example.  The father becomes increasingly dangerous and mentally ill as events unfold.  But the narrator, a child, is able to place his manic parent in the context of what passes for normalcy in his family.  The child reminds us there is, even in the full face of madness, sanity.  Treasure Island by Stevenson.  The main character of the book is surely Long John Silver.  But he's a hideous sort of person, really.  It's the very decent cabin boy through whom we observe events that keeps all the nasty pirates bearable. 

Every Hannibal Lecter needs an agent Starling.

Exception: if the story is narrated by the reprobate himself.  Think of The Killer Inside Me by Jim Thompson, or A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess.  These intensely charismatic, thoroughly heinous characters carry the novels to great success even though they're insufferable swine.  Roald Dahl's My Uncle Oswald is another, filthy example, and one I heartily recommend if you haven't read it.  As long as we're inside these rotten people, looking out, half the fun is witnessing the world through the fractured lenses of their minds.

There are other methods, too, but these are the approaches to dealing with highly unsympathetic characters with which I am directly familiar.

I don't pretend to know if this will answer Jim's difficulty.  Sometimes we get through a project and the simple fact is, nobody likes it.  That does happen.  We call such efforts "valuable experience," then move on bitterly, broken in soul and body.  But most often, it's a question of finding 'the way in,' which often as not is a matter of someone in the supporting cast offering to be our guide.

At Last, The Rise Again Website

Promotion is king in this fast-paced modern world of tomorrow.  So here's the Rise Again website, the best part of which is free print n' craft stuff to amuse the zombie fans walking among us.
 

Off-topic, but I had somebody ask me recently what I do about writing myself into a box canyon -- that is, writing my story into a situation I can't get out of.

The real answer is it doesn't happen, because I outline first.  It's always horrible to come up against a situation that requires a magic solution, something brilliant and elegant and fortuitous, just to solve an accidental conundrum.  Used to happen to me all the time.  Much easier to solve these things in advance of the first draft.

But the second answer, the useful one, is this: skip the part you can't solve.  Start writing again at some point beyond that moment, and write as if you figured out the missing segment.  When the story is done, you'll have all sorts of answers that point back at how to resolve the missing part of the story.

But for the sake of all that's decent, outline first!

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

News and Reviews

You thought I was dead, but in fact I've just been... you know, working.

The brilliant Courts Carter is building a website full of immodest praise for my novel Rise Again; the beta version is here.  But you didn't see it, capisce?  There will be some fun free downloads on the site, which is the best part of such an effort.

Speaking of immodest praise, a couple of advance reviews have turned up.  Publisher's Weekly has this to say:


Rise Again
Ben Tripp, S&S/Gallery, $15 trade paper (400p) ISBN 978-1-4391-6516-4
Zombie mayhem gets an interesting modern American makeover in this notable debut. In Forest Peak, a quiet town an hour outside of Los Angeles, the crowds at an Independence Day gathering suddenly go crazy, drop dead, and rise as flesh-eating corpses. As the zombies ravage the town, sheriff Danielle "Danny" Adelman, a veteran of the Iraq War, gathers together the few human survivors and they head north, looking for refuge. In San Francisco, Danny discovers signs of a military coverup for the disaster and indications that Hawkstone, a team of paramilitary independent contractors, is taking advantage of the social anarchy. Tripp balances kinetically choreographed scenes of zombie carnage with studies of well-drawn characters and enough political intrigue to give his tale more gravity and grounding than most zombie gorefests.


And if you're looking for laughs, you can read my latest bilious rant on the Huffington Post.  By 'laughs,' I mean 'reasons to cut your wrists,' obviously. 
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/ben-tripp/its-time-to-grow-up_b_730778.html

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Loanwords

Ten great loanwords we got from elsewhere:

tchotschkes
zen
schadenfreude
mayday (m'aidez)
macho
gulag
juggernaut
hooligan
jazz
cliché

Etymology is a wonderful thing.  Never miss a chance to look up an odd word.  That's what English mostly is: a base of German, French, and Saxon with a whole lot of words added in from anywhere. 

It's what makes America so promising -- we do our entire culture this way, shoving bits and pieces on all over the place to create new and energetic modes of everything.  Language is an extension of that.  And it's what makes the right-wing takeover of America so frightening -- these are people that want to purify the culture, the language, and ultimately the mind, turning it into a white, evangelical Christian paradise that never, ever changes, that never allows new or alien influences.

Which is absurd.

America is like the English language.  Purify it, make it all one thing, and it will cease to exist.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Huffington Post Again

By the way, got a piece up on the Huffington Post talking about the origins of Rise Again, and addressing the peculiar circumstances that caused a humorist to turn to horror.

Got to keep stirring the pot.

I Have Not Been Idle

A long way back I mentioned the value of having several projects in various states of completion.  The premise is if one thing falls apart, you have another that needs doing.  Thus you can stave off the paralysis of writer's block.

As it happens, I wasn't so much blocked on my third novel, Heat Lightning, as distracted: between hand-renovating our kitchen and a hundred other complicated tasks, I've had a terrible time staying focused.  See also frequency of posts on this here blog.

A week ago my wife toddled off to Berlin to deliver a talk on gender and science in television, and I was left alone with a Boston Terrier and a French Bulldog, neither of whom is interested in writing.  The empty hours jeered at me.  I had the partial manuscript of Heat Lightning, novel number three; I had a few pages of a science fiction thing that's basically PG Wodehouse does All Quiet on the Western Front, but that wasn't grabbing me either.  So I pulled up my second novel, The Ormolu Clock, and started editing the manuscript.

By way of background, Ormolu leapt into my head shortly after Simon & Schuster told me they wanted to buy my first novel.  The idea was just there, demanding I do something about it.  I wrote the whole thing in a tremendous rush, 320 pages in 31 days.  It would have been 30 days, but I took Christmas Day off.  So you can imagine why I wasn't eager to revisit the story.  A guy writes 124,000 words in a month, they're probably the wrong words in the wrong order.

But, as I've also said ad nauseam, the trick to writing is to get an outline down, then write like you have six weeks left to live.  It doesn't matter how bad the first draft is, because it's just a sort of underlayment on top of which the real work is built.  Chicken wire to hold up the plaster.

So I got down in there and started editing the draft.  There were a lot of things that required changes, swarms of errors.  But the story held together.  In fact, I like it better than Rise Again

Several days of editing later, I've just completed the second draft.  Now it goes out to some strong-stomached readers; I'll leave the manuscript alone for a while, digest their comments and my own response to the story, and then have another go at it.  I believe it's in good enough shape to take out to some agents, however; it's probably time to get myself represented again.

So what started out as a stopgap to keep myself writing when I didn't much feel like writing has, in fact, been highly productive.  And that, my droogs, is why it's good to have more than one project going at any time.