I’d like to introduce you to a term, if you aren’t familiar with it already, called “author intrusion”. You have author intrusion when you’re reading a story and all of a sudden something is said in a way that pulls you out of the “zone” your imagination is in. It might be a really fancy or strange word that causes you to lose the flow of your reading. Flowery writing – the use of excessive adverbs and adjectives is also distracting. It might be a mistake in tense; an author may accidentally switch from past tense to present tense or word things in such a way that it sounds like they’re going from 3^rd person to 1^st person. Another blunder—which happens too often, strangely enough—is when an author suddenly changes point of view, giving us the thoughts of a character who’s head we’re not supposed to be in. We call it “head-hopping” (another term to know). And what I think is the most disruptive type of intrusion—when an author may suddenly dump a lot of information in the narration that sounds like he’s explaining something from a text book. (The term for that is called an Information Dump, by the way.)

Here’s an example of an information dump.  Say you’re reading a story about a young person who is torn between accepting a scholarship to attend their dream college or taking two years off of school altogether to pursue another dream of making it to the Olympics. Suddenly, the author veers away from the meat of the story to insert a long paragraph or two about the important history of the college or what another individual had to do to overcome a similar situation. (He’s letting us know how well he researched his story and wants us to be proud of him. Blech!) Narration like this can suddenly make you disconnect with the story as you become immediately aware that the author is trying to teach you something.

…and How to Avoid It

All of the above are ways that the author intrudes into the story. There are several things you can do to avoid author intrusion in your fiction writing and remain invisible to the reader.

• First, don’t set out to necessarily “teach” a lesson, or make a moral point in your fiction. You will likely have a lot of research and knowledge built into the topic you’re writing about, but you can’t include it all. That which you do include must come out as being natural to the telling of the story, or you will be in danger of creating information dumps. Most of the time, a lesson or moral will end up being innately ingrained in a story by its plot or how characters behave without the author pointing it out.
• Don’t use extravagant vocabulary words where a simple, clear one will do. Otherwise you’ll be guilty of stepping into the spotlight, saying, “Look! I’m here. I wrote this. Don’t I have an expansive vocabulary?” You don’t want to be the reason readers become distracted from the story you’ve worked so hard on. Also, clean out as many adverbs and adjectives as you can.
• Pay close attention to grammar. Be sure your verbs always agree with your subjects so that you don’t make the mistake of changing tenses mid-step. That can sometimes sound like the author is suddenly there in the story, mingling with the characters.
• Always stay in only one character’s head (POV) per scene. Observe everything that happens through the filter of that one character.

EXERCISE:

Look through your manuscript for creeping author intrusion.

• Does any scene suddenly sound like a Wikipedia description?
• Are you watching those noun/verb agreements?
• Is your vocabulary sufficient but not flowery?
• Are there too many adverbs and adjectives instead of strong verbs and specific nouns?
• Have you head-hopped in any one scene?

Edit for these problems.

Whether you are writing a short story, a novel, or a non-fiction essay, you will need to give description, and often times to do so you will use comparison. It’s been said that “nothing means anything except as compared to something else”. In other words, if you say, “The house was big,” you make the reader ask, how big? Compared to what? If you tell them that the trip was long, they’ll want to know how long. Compared to what? If you say the job was hard, they’ll inquire, how hard? Compared to what? If you envision a beautiful dress and say that it was very blue, your reader will say, what kind of blue? Compared to what?

Comparisons are called similes and metaphors. You use them to help the reader visualize something they couldn’t see before, or to explain something that is unknown by showing them something that is known. For example, rather than saying the house was big, you might say that the house was as big as a castle compared to the tiny shack she lived in with her grandfather. I didn’t change the fact that the house was simply big, but saying it was “as big as a castle” to the character helped us see it the way she did. I might continue the description with something further: She wondered, did really only one family live inside? There were so many windows and walkways leading to doors on either end that it seemed surely two or three families must have apartments inside.

Or how about that dress? What kind of blue was it? Blue like the sky on a cloudless day, or deep blue, like dusk on a summer’s night? Maybe it was as blue as the sapphire necklace the hero gave her.

He went on a long trip . . . Well; it might be helpful to know what kind of story we’re telling. Say we’re talking about a Tom Sawyer type individual, who grew up never getting far from his home on the river. Maybe a long trip would simply be to the next town, twenty miles away. Maybe we’d say, “It was the longest trip of his life, being as how he’d never been past Cooley’s Ridge before” – kind of like when the hobbits had never gone outside the shire . . .

When we use like or as, we’ve used a simile. We are saying that something is similar to something. When we compare something even more boldly, we use a metaphor. We say something is indeed something else, even though it physically cannot be true. For instance, instead of using a simile to say, “It looked like a storm was brewing between his brows”, (though that’s pretty good) we might say, “A storm brewed between his brows.” It tells us the same thing — that someone is getting angry — but it does the job a little more forcefully.

Good fiction, and even good non-fiction, makes ample use of good comparisons while not becoming so heavy handed with them that we can’t see the story for the metaphor. You can overdo a good thing. The simple fact is that using comparison helps to put things in context. It helps to make your point, to clarify a picture, to put the reader in the scene or sense the sight, the smell, and the feel of what you’re showing them. It helps the writer to accomplish the one thing that should always be the writers’ mantra: Show me what it looks, feels, tastes, smells, sounds like; don’t just tell me that it does.

EXERCISE:

Search through your current work-in-progress for places that comparison would bring more visualization to the story. See if you can bring think of metaphors or similes that would liven up boring adjectives that merely tell.

Also, as you read for pleasure, note comparisons that authors are giving you to help you live in the story.

Think of Luke Skywalker. Are his actions around Princess Leah and Darth Vader the same? Does he talk with Han Solo the same way he talks with Yoda?

To make this personal, is a conversation with your parents the same as a chat with your best friend? Are your actions the same? Of course they aren’t.

Each character has a unique voice and mannerisms. Some may use proper English while others wouldn’t. As your write dialogue, have your characters speak the way they would in real life. Sentence fragments and poor grammar often show up in dialogue.

Shy and nervous Tracy, my artist in a previous lesson, might have a hard time talking with her employer. She might stutter or stumble over her words. However, she could explain the story behind her painting with ease if she’s talking with her best friend. You get the idea.

Take the characters you’ve created in previous lessons. Add another layer by giving each one a unique voice.

Writing lesson:

Create some dialogue. Try at least two of my suggestions from the list below or come up with another relationship. Use the same topic each time. Choose one of the characters you’ve already developed. By now, you should know them pretty well. How would they sound and act?

• Write a dialogue scene between your character and his/her best friend.
• Try one with a parent.
• Choose a scene with their boyfriend/girlfriend.
• Have the same discussion with a grandparent.
• Talk with a teacher or an employer.
• Discuss the issue with a brother or sister.

Reading and writing are by nature very visual activities, but most people have five senses: sight, smell, taste, hearing, and touch. The more sensory perceptions you are able to engage in your writing, the more your reader will be able to experience your story almost first-hand. That’s a very good thing! Stories that seem real have a tendency to suck us right into the action. Learn to enhance sensory perception by tickling your readers’ other senses, and you’ll write a story they can’t put down.

Let’s expand our imaginations a little.

How would you describe a color to someone who could not see? What might red sound like? How would purple smell? Can you taste orange? If you touched blue, would it feel cold or hot? Would pink feel hard or soft?

Exercise:

• Pick a color. Close your eyes and let your imagination wander. Jot down any metaphors that come to mind that would describe how that color smells, tastes, sounds, or feels.
• Now pick another color and try again!
• Please feel free to post any examples you come up with!

Below you’ll find some examples compiled from my writing students at the Brazos Valley Co-op.

White: Feels like a swan’s soft down feathers and fluffy snow. It tastes sweet like marshmallows on hot chocolate. It smells like clean clothes and freshly folded laundry.

Silver: Sounds like a sword being drawn out of a sheath

Gray: Feels like depression, cold, metal and loneliness. It sounds like rain and a cold wind. It feels heavy and coarse like wool or horse hair. It is like a mystery, tumbling, swirling like smoke. Gray sounds like a deep bell ringing. It smells like gunpowder and steel. It rings in your ears like the dispatch of cannon and musketry. It tastes bitter, like ashes in your mouth. Gray is a war ship, silent, slipping up on its prey. It is history and tradition. It is a secret—just a whisper, floating on a wafting breeze.

Black: is the feeling of emptiness and sorrow—cold, alone, hopeless, desperate. It sounds like quiet whispers of despair. It feels and smells like tar. It is a bottomless pit falling into eternity. Black tastes like licorice. Black is still, glassy water. Black is magnetic. It feels like polished granite. Black is a snake hissing before it strikes. It is like a spilled bottle of ink, seeping into all the dark little corners and crevices. It is your arch-enemy’s cold, cruel heart. It tastes smooth, rich, and bittersweet. Black shouts volumes with the mysterious voice of silence. It lingers in the tiny nooks and crannies of that old abandoned house down the lane. Black feels like nothingness. It envelops the entirety of space. Black is nowhere and everywhere. Black is encompassing.

Brown: sounds like the coffee grinder. Brown smells like burning cedar and hot cocoa. It feels like the rough bark on a tree. Brown sounds like a song on an old violin.

Pink: is a baby’s blanket, warm and comforting. It is the softest cloud. Pink feels like a caress. It is smooth like a rose petal. It tastes like cotton candy. It smells like a strawberry. Pink sounds like a silk skirt swishing around. It sounds like a giggle. Pink is the color of happiness.

Red: is vibrant and hot. It smells like blood. It sounds like a fire engine. Red is fast. Red is how your tongue feels after eating something spicy. It tastes like chili peppers. Red feels like walking barefooted on a hot sidewalk. It is that deep, warm, and exuberant feeling you get when you’re with someone you love. Red is passionate. Red smells like Valentine’s Day candies. Red feels like a sunburn. Red is clever, witty, vivacious, and subtly smart. It tastes spicy and sweet, like an apple with a touch of cinnamon. Red is juicy. It enhances and defines, excites and inspires, surprises and sooths. Red can be avoided, but it cannot be ignored. The stain of red cannot be removed. Red is unexpected

Orange: tastes like a popsicle on a hot July day. Orange is a liquid color—like orange juice. It smells like citrus—wet and tangy. It feels vibrant, bold, full of life. It is a beautiful sunset shared with friends.

Yellow: is how you feel when the whole day is going your way. It tastes tart like a freshly cut lemon or like cool lemonade on a hot day. It feels like sunshine gently pouring down on your face on a warm June morning. Yellow feels happy. It sounds like the birds waking up. It smells like bananas or like hay in the feeding trough. It feels soft like fuzzy chicks. If yellow were a person, she would dance everywhere she went.

Green: feels like the morning dew on the grass—cool on bare feet. It smells like the lawn after it has been mown. It feels like moss on the forest floor. It is the rainforest or a lush meadow or ferns or a greenhouse. Green sounds like clear crystalline chimes. It tastes like honeydew, limes, kiwi, tart apples, and sour pickles. Green feels refreshing, composed, and calming. It smells like fresh cut herbs or spearmint gum–clean, and relaxing. Green sounds like grasshoppers chirping.

Blue: feels like diving into a swimming pool on a hot summer day. It is the Christmas wind on your nose. Blue brings summer and winter together. It feels like the the first brisk morning when you walk outside and have to go back for a coat. Blue tastes like ice water. It feels like rain—a cloudburst. Blue is an iceberg. It is slippery like fish scales. It is like a gulp of fresh air. Blue sounds like the ocean—like waves splashing on the shore; smells like saltwater. It sounds water gurgling in a brook. It sounds like the wind. Blue smells like chlorine. It sounds like raindrops pitter-pattering on my rooftop.

Purple: feels hard like amethyst. It smells like oriental spices.

Your parents or grandparents might have learned to read using primers featuring characters named Dick, Jane, Sally, Puff and Spot. (Puff and Spot were the cat and dog.) These stories used very basic vocabulary, lots of repetition and some colorful pastel pictures to teach young children how to read. The Dick and Jane books were useful tools for a generation of schoolchildren, but the stories were pretty boring once you’d mastered reading! 

What if these stories were edited to make them more interesting? This exercise will help you think about better ways to say the same old words.

You’ll need to use 2 different color pencils for this exercise.  First, underline all the nouns you find in the story below in one color.  Second, underline all the verbs in a different color.  You’ll then rewrite the story, focusing on the underlined words. 

You’ll want to add some great adjectives to modify some of the nouns. (Choose your nouns carefully, since a few adjectives go a long way toward spicing up your writing. Too many can make your writing feel a little forced or phony.) You may want to also replace some of the basic nouns with more specific ones. For example, “tree” can become “pine”.

Powerful, specific verbs can make your writing leap off the page. Replace many verbs in the story below with more specific, descriptive ones. “Said” can become “whispered”, “stated”, “responded” or “yelled”…just for starters. 

You may have to add some additional sentences or change the word order of the sentences a bit in order to help your revised version make more sense.  By concentrating on the way you use just these 2 parts of speech in your writing, you will end up with more crisp and interesting results. 

 A Ride On Clown 

     Jane saw the boys on the black pony.  “Let me ride, too,” she called.

     Grandfather said, “Not now, Jane.  Three can’t get on Clown.  Let the boys ride now.  You can ride after they come back.” 

     Away went the two boys on Clown.  Dick said, “I like Clown.  This is a good, fast ride.”

     “Look there, Dick!” said Pete.  “There went two rabbits!  Let’s jump down and try to find them.”  The boys got down to find the rabbits.  Soon they saw the rabbits jump out.  Clown saw them, too!  The black pony ran away, and the boys ran after him. 

     “Come back, Clown!” called Dick.  “Come back here!”  But the black pony ran on and on.

     “Oh dear!” said Pete.  “What do we do now?”

     “We walk!” said Dick.  “Come on, my friend.  We have to walk, walk, walk!”

     “Look here, boys,” called Jane.  “Clown came back to get me.  He wanted me to have a ride.  He is my friend.”

     Dick said, “Maybe Clown is your friend.  But he is not my friend, and he is not Pete’s friend.  He ran away, and Pete and I had to walk home.”

From Fun With Our Friends, New Basic Readers Series, published by Scott, Foresman and Co., 1962.

To extend the lesson, try this with a group. Have each person do his or her own revision, then come together to read your edited stories out loud. You’ll be amazed at how each person’s word choices change the tone and meaning of the story!