Donna Maree Hanson, Author, Phd in Creative Writing

Reading is a very good way to learn the craft of writing, particularly if you notice something and analyse it. This is not always easy when you are enjoying yourself in reading a book. However, after awhile something jumps out at you as being quite nifty and it is worth the time to consider it.

This happened to me while reading Zoo City by Lauren Beukes. Okay so this book won the Arthur C Clarke award this year. It goes without saying that there is some good stuff in this novel and my example is only a very small part of it.

One particularly thing, which I will call technique or story craft, jumped out at me, probably because my partner, who is also a writer, suggested something similar to me in my rewrite/revision on my current MS.

Put simply, this is interweaving dialogue and action to vary delivery, convey other things other than just the words passing between the characters. If you think about it. It becomes rather tedious if all through your novel you have people nodding, sighing, standing up, pacing, sitting down…all real actions but very  mundane when piled up over the course of 100,000 words. When the characters are doing something else that can lift the dialogue out of its daily grind. I recall Valerie Parv giving some advice at a romance writing workshop. something along the lines of taking something ordinary, like a kiss or a marriage proposal and putting it somewhere different. A proposal at a restaurant is very run of the mill, make it the parking lot and straight away there is something interesting going on.

So I am going to relate the scene from Zoo City, which is a high end example of this feathering technique. This is because Beukes is doing a lot here with this scene.

The set up is that the main character Zinzi December has been tasked to find a teenager. She needs to talk to the twin brother, who being a teenager (and a pop star)  isn’t interested and is also playing a computer game. Seeing the situation as it is this is what she does:

“This is two player, right?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Killing aliens with S’bu Radebe. That’s profile gold. Credo will love it.”

‘They’re Cthul’mites actually.”

“Whatever. They all bleed the same.”

From the player screen, I select the huge black guy character with Mike Tyson tattoos on his face and whipblades mounted in his forearms. Nice to see game designers keeping up the stereotypes.

“You any good?” S’bu give me a sideways glance.

“Fucking terrible. It’s all you.”

“Oh great.”  But he cracks the slightest of smiles.

…..

Zinzi mentions she doesn’t want a beer because she doesn’t want to go into rehab in discussion with some of the other characters.

Then…

My health is dwindling, one point at a time. I’m down to 22 per cent. “So which rehab did you go to?”

“Listen, just ‘cos we’re both in recovery doesn’t make us best friends or nothing.”

“I did mine in prison. Involuntary.”

This is a cut up version of the actual text. Things are happening here on many levels. Beukes makes it interesting. It’s not just question answer. There’s action externally and internally. By playing a computer game with S’bu, Beukes is able to relate a lot of things about him. He’s not really interested in what is going on around him. He’s suspicious, distrusting and a typical teenager in many ways. The game playing, the game character’s health is signifying the amount of time she has to crack S’bu, to manage to strike a chord with him. As they play she dances around, taking the edges lightly. He’s fencing with her not engaging. His mates get some beer and her opening comes up. Just as she is running out of time/health she nails him. After this scene, he sits up takes notice, asks questions.

By feathering in the dialogue with the action, Beukes has been able to convey a deeply enriched scene.

Prior to reading this book, Matthew Farrer, my partner took a look at my prologue. He made a suggestion about feathering some thoughts into paragraph and how that might work. I was down on myself , thinking I’m not smart, I don’t think of these things myself. Now, particularly seeing it elsewhere, I recognise it for what it is: a technique, something clever you can do to craft your writing.

Here is my before and after example.

Before:

He smiled to himself as he tucked into his dinner of roast beef, crispy Yorkshire pudding and baked potatoes. His friend, Miss Blake, reportedly ran a very strict school. He had no doubt that all of Miss Hardcastle’s wayward ways would be curbed and that a nice marriageable young lady would be produced at the end of four years or so. He considered his role of guardian well and truly in hand as he sat by the hearth, sipping some very nice port and smoking a cheroot.

After:

He smiled to himself as he tucked into his roast beef. His friend, Miss Blake, ran a very strict school. He cut into the crispy Yorkshire pudding. All of Miss Hardcastle’s wayward habits would be curbed and a nice marriageable young lady would be produced at the end of four years or so. By the time he finished off the baked potato and soaked up the last of the gravy, he considered his role of guardian well in hand.

Here Matthew suggested the feathering the eating with the thinking. I also trimmed a bit. I think it works better. He cuts up and disposes of his meal, while he mentally cuts up and disposes of his ward.

I have since found some other scenes where I do this. I don’t want to over do it. So another little trick in the craft of writing.