Bland or Beautiful: Standing Out from the Crowd
Recently I’ve been entering some Goodreads giveaways, because, free books. Since ideally I’d like to get books I want to read, I check out the book blurbs ahead of time, and I’m seeing some patterns. It’s easy enough to avoid the ones that simply state their sub-genre (for instance, I’m not big into Paranormal Romance), but there are more subtle clues that I probably don’t want to read something. Ignoring for the moment those blurbs that are just badly written, making me avoid them for fear they’re indicative of the style of the book, there is another thing that will put me off: a plot with overused elements.
Not always. Not inevitably. There are fine authors who can take some extremely trite elements and make them into something arresting and unique. Unfortunately, there are more authors who can take something arresting and unique and make it into something trite. It’s a fact of the literary world; like any other endeavor, there are a few people who are really good, a few people who are really bad, and a large number of people who are somewhere in the middle.
Of course, just as no one wants to be really bad, no one really wants to be that person in the middle, either. But standing out from the crowd isn’t as easy as that, at least in the writing department. I’m not talking about publicity, but about what makes someone remember your story or novel five minutes after you put it down. Hopefully the quality of your writing will stay with someone. But for me, the writing is the background music, the utterly necessary part of creating a mood that helps the reader submerge themselves in a story without calling so much attention to itself that it takes away from what’s happening. It can be noticeably good, even great, but it shouldn’t be the showpiece. If you don’t have anything to offer but your writing, there’s a problem.
An example of this would be the person who can beautifully draw a scene, but whose stories have little plot and less characterization. You can build the most astonishing world, and still not be able to connect your reader to it. And that’s the point I’m trying to make. What makes a story memorable, in addition to the quality of one’s words, is what details, what character elements, what plot points you choose to include. It’s also about what things you choose not to include.
Those decisions, at some point, need to be made on a conscious level. There are at least as many ways of writing as there are writers – probably a lot more – but writing which is never examined, though it may be very fine, tends to be inconsistent, because if you don’t know consciously what you’re doing right and wrong, you are less likely to be able to repeat the good stuff and eschew the bad. I won’t say it’s impossible, but it’s not the way to bet.
That leaves the question of what those unique details ought to consist of, and that depends on what story you’re trying to write. If you are aware of a theme, you can dovetail details to bring out that theme through the action, characters, and plot. If you aren’t aware of your theme, don’t panic – just remember that you need to put thought into your characters, your plot, your setting, your magic. It means you need to not rely on your reader to do the work. Yes, your reader will understand that if someone is the Chosen One of a prophecy, they will be the key to solving the conflict of the story. But what makes your Chosen One different from the Chosen Ones of the last six authors? What will keep your story from merging into the great mass of stories that feature a Chosen One? That’s where knowing your own story comes in.
Because specifics are your best friend when it comes to memorability. Every time you waffle and hedge on the uniqueness of your details, you fall into the mediocre. It’s the difference between saying “My character’s father used to beat him,” and thinking that’s sufficient, versus saying, “My character has a flashback of his father’s belt cutting into his back.” The first one is pretty easy to fall into, but it’s a pretty fair bet that the second will stick with readers far longer than the first. It doesn’t have to be long, intricate detail – it takes little more time to write the second sentence than the first – but one simply gives you a piece of information, while the second draws you in.
If you know your world, your characters, your story, then don’t keep them locked in your head. Just because you have a picture of it doesn’t mean that a quick, throwaway description will show that vision to your reader. Instead, tell them what’s in your head that makes it yours. Show them why they should read what you have to write.
With any luck, they’ll remember you when they’re looking to read your next book, or when they want something to re-read.
They may even tell someone else about you, or review your book. And isn't that is the Holy Grail which we, as authors, want?