Unusual Narrators

I am not an expert on all the ins and outs of the narrator or narrative voice in fiction. Most of my stories wind up being in the third person, and often from multiple characters’ points of view. Before you jump all over me for that, let it be known that a) I never head-hop within a scene, and b) I’m currently writing an epic fantasy trilogy, and it just wouldn’t work if I had only one P.O.V. character.

Anyway, despite the fact that I have experimented very little with my narrators, I’m fascinated by the concept of the role of the narrator. I’ve decided to make this blog post a brief study of several unusual narrators that I’ve come across (in both books and movies).

The role of the narrator is first and foremost that of storyteller. Whether it’s omniscient third person point of view or an individual character who says “let me tell you my tale,” we learn the story from a narrator. Since I like the telling of stories, I’m always fascinated when I encounter an unusual storyteller.

Unusual Narrators in Movies

Okay, so both of these that I’m going to talk about are technically stage productions, but I’ve only seen the movie versions. The story and the characters would be the same, though. The musicals Evita and Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat feature very unusual narrators to tell the story. The narrator Ché in Evita and the unnamed Narrator in Joseph both actively participate in the story, even though they are not characters within it. This is a technique that seems like it would be more effective in a show or movie rather than a book.

Ché and Joseph’s Narrator set up the story, introduce the characters, and then take the audience on the journey of the story. Both of these narrators are in just about every scene and every song, but not just as a distant storyteller – they interact with the scene and the characters within it. The characters in both of these stories are unaware that the narrator is a being that exists outside of their world.

For example, in Evita, Eva has several duets with Ché, but she does not recognize him from scene to scene. Ché is simply there to represent the everyman (or sometimes her conscience). Similarly, in Joseph, the characters always greet the Narrator with exuberance and welcome her into the scene, but treat her as a passing fancy. Only at the end, when Joseph and the Narrator sing the final duet, does Joseph seem to become aware that the Narrator has been there all along, telling his story and giving him life. These two stories would actually make a great character study, as well, because of this unique interaction with the narrators, but I won’t go into that right now.

Unusual Narrators in Books

The two books I’ve decided to discuss are Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier and The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova. (Incidentally, I mentioned the narrator of Rebecca in another post I wrote some time back, in which I outline first, second, and third person points of view.)

Both of these books are written in the first person, which at first blush seems like the most limiting of all narrative styles, because the reader can never know anything beyond what the narrator knows. This is definitely the case in Rebecca, where the narrator’s ignorance and conjecture is basically what drives the plot.

The Historian features a very different sort of narrator, because there are technically several narrators. The main narrator (unnamed) is telling the story of her hunt for her father. She follows the trail left by her father based on the letters he’s written to her; these letters are first person, narrated by her father, and his narration (this narrator’s name is Paul) actually takes up the bulk of the book. Paul (via his first person letters) also followed a trail left his by his professor, so portions of the book are told in the first person by the narrator Professor Rossi. It’s a fascinating way to tell a story, and this technique enables the reader to experience multiple points of view (and even multiple time periods) while always staying in the first person. I found it occasionally confusing, though, as there were no markers to indicate when we were switching narrators (or time periods). Since everything was told by “I,” the reader has to rely only on the setting, and an acute awareness for each of the narrator’s voices, to determine who was telling the story at any point in time.

What’s also interesting about both of these stories is that the narrators are not actually the main characters. In Rebecca, we are in the unnamed narrator’s head the entire time and we get to know her intimately, but Max de Winter and even Rebecca herself are the major players in the story. In The Historian, the unnamed primary narrator quickly fades into secondary importance as we follow her father Paul as the narrator. At times reading this book, it was easy to forget that the “main” plot of the story was supposed to take place in the 1970s, because the majority of the story was told via Paul’s letters from the 1950s.

Other Unusual Narrators?

So now I’d like to hear from you. Have you ever read (or watched, or written) a story with an unusual narrator or narrative style? There are other stories I could have discussed here, but I’d love to hear some more examples from you!

And also, for your viewing pleasure, here is the Narrator from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat setting up the story and introducing the main character:

Taking My Writing Seriously

I was going to write a post about all my reading and writing goals for the new year. I was going to muse about all the books I did (and didn’t) read last year, and how this year I’m going to read more. I was going to write about all the writing goals that I didn’t hit last year, and all the writing successes that I had. And I might still do that soon.

I’m still working through my goals and resolutions for this year, and reflecting on everything that happened in 2014. But one thing that I’m certain of is that this year, I want to take my writing seriously.

I’m still working out the details of daily word count goals and when I want to have draft one or draft two finished. All of that is important, but if I don’t resolve to actually take my writing seriously, then word count doesn’t matter, and I probably won’t stick to my goals anyway.

A mindset, the why behind a goal or an action, is the most important part. So I have to decide for myself that if I want to see any of my lofty writing dreams come true, I need to know why I want them to come true. If I want to be taken seriously as a writer, then I need to take myself seriously as a writer.

My life is busy – just like everybody else’s. I work multiple jobs, I like to spend at least a little time here and there with my friends, I like to kick back and veg in front of a movie. But if I continue to treat my writing as a frivolous hobby and not an intentional habit, then nothing serious will ever come of it.

This year I resolve to put a high priority on my writing, and take myself seriously as a writer.

What do you want to take more seriously about yourself this year?

Sequels: Realism vs Entertainment

So I recently read that a sequel to Frozen is in the works. No surprise there. The movie has made gazillions of dollars, the already-famous Idina Menzel is now popular among six-year-olds, and it’s cool to like warm hugs. I don’t think a title or plot summary has been released yet, so here is my take on what Frozen 2 should be:

Frozen 2: Do You Want to go to Therapy?

High up on the North Mountain, Queen Elsa’s ice palace, now left untended, melts in the summertime sun. Avalanches and floods ensue, ruining crops and endangering Arendell. Elsa, however, is unable to stop it because she’s too busy wrestling with inner demons and the long-repressed anger at her parents for teaching her to fear and hide. Princess Anna is left in charge, but in addition to saving the kingdom and trying to help Elsa help herself, she has to deal with her husband Kristoff’s sudden depression. Sven, the oversized reindeer who acts like a dog, finally dies at the unrealistically old age of 217 in human years, sending Kristoff into despair at losing his only life-long friend. In desperation, Anna is about ready to call in the scumbags Hans and the Duke of Wesleton for help when Olaf – who has miraculously not melted yet like Elsa’s ice palace – has a daring idea.

Dun-dun-duuuuh….

Not much of a kids’ movie, if you want a (sort of) realistic plot like this. Mind you, I’m not bashing Frozen. I loved the movie and would love to see a sequel. But Disney has a so-so track record with sequels. There are the mediocre follow-ups to all of their animated classics of the 1990s. And then there are the more recent and more successful story continuations like the four Pirates of the Caribbean movies.

So this got me thinking – what makes a good sequel? Is it more important to focus on being “realistic” – like Elsa and Anna having nervous breakdowns due to repressed childhoods and living with dangerous super-powers? Or is it more important to focus on sheer entertainment (that is, box office numbers) by having a funny, song-filled sequel about Norwegian royalty and magical snowmen?

I’m sure Disney will go with something closer to that second option – and rightly so. Because Disney knows their audience. (And their track record with sequels has improved a bit since The Return of Jafar.) That’s actually my point for this post, and the conclusion I came to when I pondered the question of what makes a good sequel.

Know your audience. It’s the same question to consider with any movie, novel, script, or short story that you’re writing. Who are you writing it for? And why are you writing it?

I’m all for writing a sequel – or turning a story into a series – because the audience loved the original story. Or because there’s more story to tell. This is both entertaining and realistic, and I think quite appropriate.

Side note: by “realistic,” I mean realistic within the rules of the world of the story. What is “realistic” or “logical” within the world of Frozen would not be at all appropriate in a Batman story, for example.

So when I think about a “realistic” sequel to a story, what I’m looking for is “what is the next logical occurrence for this plot that fits within the established rules of this world and is expected of these particular characters, based on their beliefs and actions thus far.”

What I don’t like is a sequel that has characters who have undergone a strange personality overhaul somewhere between story 1 and story 2 (like if a different writer and director do the second movie). Contrived plot devices also bug me – like, say, a character who returns from the dead without any sort of precedent for that in the previous story.

As an example, in the X-Men comic series, one expects the character of Jean Grey to die every so often, and then return again after a while, only to later die again (hence her title of Phoenix). This element of world building was established long ago, and so a plot thread featuring the death or resurrection of Jean Grey is “realistic.” This same idea would not work in the world of Middle-Earth, for example, because in Tolkien’s world building, his dead characters usually stay dead (with a few minor exceptions). A Middle-Earth story featuring the unexplained return of (insert dead character here) just because he/she is a cool character would, in my opinion, make for an “unrealistic” sequel.

Of course this is all my personal opinion, and of course there are exceptions to every point that I just laid out. But I do believe that consistency in world building is one of the most important elements, and I feel that the details of a richly-developed fantasy world should not be sacrificed just to capitalize on popularity or make big bucks.

Tell me your opinion? What sort of sequels do you like? Are there some stories that beg to have continual sequels made, or stories that should remain solo tales? What do you think Frozen 2 should be about? Please share!

What Not to Say to a Writer

I am not a published author yet (as of the time of this writing), and I may not be as experienced as many writers, but thus far in my writing journey I have encountered well-meaning people who say some really not-so-great things.

Writing can be not only a lonely pursuit, but an odd one. Let’s face it: we walk around with whole worlds in our heads, every horrible or bizarre thing we see would work great in a story, and we struggle with choosing between two different words that actually mean the same thing. So I guess it’s no wonder that a) most regular people don’t understand us, and b) because of that, questions that would otherwise be polite or innocuous are not viewed that way by us.

Whether you’re a professional writer, or you’re just getting started and have told more than two people that you’re working on a book, I’d be willing to bet that you’ve heard at least one of these comments from someone. And if the comment didn’t annoy you or confuse you, then just wait.

Please note: I mean no offense to anyone reading this who isn’t a writer, nor any offense towards well-meaning family and friends of writers. My purpose here is to shamelessly elicit sympathy from other writers help non-writers to understand where we’re coming from.

How’s your book coming? (Or, when can I read your book?) When I’m able to answer this question with “The first shipment of my new book should be here next week,” I probably won’t mind answering this. But otherwise, this question really bugs me, and here’s why: no matter how much writing I’ve done lately or how well a project is going, I’m always thinking I ought to be farther along at this point and that the writing could be better quality. I’ve taken to answering the “when can I read your book” question with “when it’s finished.” And then when they ask when that will be, I repeat “when it’s finished.” Yes, I have some specific goals set for the stories I’m writing, but I don’t feel like telling people “I plan to be finished with draft three of chapter four of book one by next month.”

I wish I had time to write a book. So do I. So do all writers, probably. Nobody really has time to write a book. Those who want to write make the time. It’s not easy. Everyone is busy with jobs, kids, daily life. But writers figure out how to carve out time and write. If you want to write badly enough, you can do that, too.

My mom/brother/neighbor’s cousin wrote/published a book. You should talk to them! I love connecting with writers of all experience levels, and I believe there’s something I can learn from anyone.  The mom/brother/neighbor’s cousin is probably a great person and fine writer, but usually when I get this comment from a friend (or a stranger), the person talking can’t remember the name of the book, has no idea whether the author is self-published or traditionally published, and doesn’t know if said author is working on anything new. I appreciate the thought and wish the author all the best, but I don’t think I need to spend time figuring out if the published work is a series of main-stream novels or a church cookbook.

How do you write something that long? I can’t even write a short story. (I get this one a lot because I write epic fantasy. You might get some variation of this comment depending on what your format or genre is). When I bother answering this question, I usually laugh and say that I struggle to write something short (which is true). Then they laugh, and have no idea what to say next. I’m working on some short stories right now, in addition to a novel, but the two are totally different animals. Writing a novel is not just taking a short story and adding 40,000 words to it. I write long stuff because that’s what I like and what I’m good at.

Where do you get your ideas? This one annoys me the most. It’s not the fault of the person asking the question – they’re genuinely impressed by my creativity, and I should be flattered. But when this comes as a question, I truly don’t know how to answer it. I don’t go out searching for ideas – they come to me. Whether I want them to or not. I do understand that some writers need more prompts and inspiration than others, and then of course there’s writer’s block in all its forms. But my ideas usually come unbidden and at random times. Driving at night, I see a lamp post and get an idea for a story. A line of a song leads to an unrelated thought, and then there’s the seed of a story idea. I read a book, and that kicks my creativity into overdrive. If you’re looking for my secret idea formula, I don’t have one.

What other “please don’t ever say that to a writer” questions or comments have you encountered?

My First Writers’ Conference

This past weekend I attended the James River Writers Conference. It was a weekend-long event, but I was able to attend only on Sunday. Even so, this one day was enough for me to learn, get encouraged, and whet my appetite for other writers’ conferences in the future.

The event that I think I learned the most from was the First Pages workshop. During First Pages, selected works were read aloud – but only the first page. The panel of agents and editors then gave their feedback on what worked and what didn’t. I took a lot of notes. I want to be able to hook my readers right from the first page!

I think I enjoyed the Plotters versus Pantser panel the most. Four authors shared their writing techniques, and whether they tend to plot out a story in detail beforehand, or just write from the seat of their pants. The answers were actually mixed from all four authors. It seems like even the best pantser needs to have an outline and story structure going in, and the most die-hard plotter needs to leave room for creativity and organic storytelling. This was refreshing to me, since I call myself a plotter but often find that my outlines are woefully incomplete.

All in all, I had a great time at the conference. Even though I attend other smaller James River Writers events throughout the year, it was encouraging to see so many writers from so many different places all together. Published or still amateurs, fantasy writers and essayists – at the heart, we are all writers, and were there for the common purpose of improving our craft.

I will definitely go back next year, and I also look forward to attending some other writers’ conferences in other places very soon!

An artist illustrated the First Pages workshop. Fascinating idea, and so talented!

An artist illustrated the First Pages workshop. Fascinating idea, and so talented!