In reading novels as in attending parties, nobody wants to sit next to a bore. It’s easy to say what constitutes a social bore: she hogs the conversation, talks about herself, burrows into a one narrow topic that doesn’t interest you. What marks out a boring book? I had a recent opportunity to think about this when a friend asked me to read his manuscript and give him some feedback. The overarching problem that jumped out at me seemed worth a comment. Here is what I saw:
A sea of oatmeal
The book was structured as a journey—a time-honored idea that often works well. It was a continuous spill of action, including a gory battle every few pages. Yet it was such a snoozer that I couldn’t finish it. The writing was competent. How could it be so boring?
Show, don’t tell.
The texture of the story was a completely act-oriented catalogue of events. It read like a fairy story: he did this. He killed that. He ate. He put on such-and-such a magic garment. One action after another, told in relatively few words—and necessarily more or less the same ones over and over. Although it was set in exotic locations, there was no description of places. No indication of the characters’ state of mind except the discovery that the female protagonist loved bloodshed. And this was stated, not painted in living color.
Throw out the oatmeal.
There were lots of scenes that were fine at that quick-sketch pace. They weren’t important and might well be dealt with summarily—or, preferably, omitted. Because the overall effect was very episodic, with many bloody encounters serving no real plot purpose. I had the suspicion they were added to make the book more exciting. But everything was told at the same pace and depth. Nothing stood out. The critical moment when the protagonist’s husband is slaughtered before her eyes, leaving her life altered and the rest of the story changed was dealt with in the same brisk, superficial manner as casual “padding” episodes. When everything is a peak, folks, nothing is a peak. The result was bland and homogeneous. Oatmeal. Boring.
Where’s the main course?
Never did we get inside the protagonist’s head to feel the terror of battle, the anguish of loss, the exhilaration of victory. I can’t speak for guys reading action books, but this female reader wants something more than a catalogue of sword chops. For one thing, a journey book is necessarily a story of the character’s growth, or at least, change—or else, it hasn’t got a plot at all.
In order to follow growth, we have to know what the person really is like inside. That implies taking the time at some points in the narrative to expose for us the feelings of the protagonist. That’s how we learn what sort of person she is and how she faces the world—because her external behavior could be carefully constructed to conceal that inner identity. By telling us nothing about his heroine except that she was bloodthirsty, the author didn’t leave the reader with a very sympathetic view of her. If we had felt her abandonment, her desire to be worthy of her husband, the need to prove herself in a man’s world, etc., she would have come across as a much more human, more interesting figure.
But not at every point in the narrative. As I told my friend, homogeneity was the problem here. Pick the biggies, the life-changing moments, the plot-changing moments, and drill deep. It’s slowing them down and sucking every emotional juice out of them that makes them a peak. Then the boring oatmeal becomes Jack Horner’s pie, full of big, delicious plums you can can sink your thumb into.
And slowing the clock at key moments also shows up the thread of the plot, which was sadly buried. It gives us a path of steppingstones through the marsh of oatmeal to find our way to the other side, with our sadder and wiser heroine. I’m interested to hear your own experience with boring books and how you diagnose their problem.
Trish Figuero
Hello
I recently moved from Palm Beach County to Brevard County and I’d like to know if there are writers clubs or groups. I’m hoping that now that im getting more settled, I can get back to writing.
I’m also looking for experienced authors who can help me navigate the publishing world which I find overwhelming. I’ve tried for several years to publish a book.
Thanks,
Trish
Tmoront@gmail.com
Jack Courtney
Great Insight. I once had a writing instructor who observed that the one thing he was good at was getting inside people’s heads!
Niki Kantzios
Trish, the FWA has many local groups, plus there are others informally organized by their members. I hope other writers will respond to you with more specific information. Jack–thanks. That was a wise instructor! (And no doubt a good writer.)
Michael
Revealing the interior life of a character is one of the few things novels can still do better than the movies or TV. Remembver the clumsy voice-overs of1950 movies? Even now most streamers have to rely on visual flashbacks to reveal what’s in a character’s mind at the time. This often slows the plot and can confuse tlimelines. On the others hand, a novel, esprecially one written in the first person, can devote a substantial amount of time, maybe even the entire novel, to showing the interior thoughts and feelings of a character without the character have to tell by saying: “I’m feeling …” so and so. Novels can even point out the contemporaneous inconsistency between the dialogue of a character and what’s actually going on inside the character’s head. Top that, if you can, movies, TV, streamers, and all you other visual arts! Just as art becomes more interiorized once camera could do a more exact depiction of the outer world, no novel should settle for “oatmeal” when the interior life of a character beckons.
Shutta Crum
OMG–as a judge of many contests I’ve read so many manuscripts that are all plot and no point. I find that young writers often do this. They are so caught up in the thrill of plot—-one thing happening after another—they don’t stop to give us any peek into the emotional journey of the hero/heroine. I think it was T Bone Burnett who said (while working with musicians) “soft is hard.” Meaning when we slow things down, that’s when the emotional impact hits hardest. Thanks for this posting!
Jerold Tabbott
Your example is obviously from a newbie who’s never heard of show versus tell, so not really representative of the more diligent aspiring writers.
Nevertheless, your points are true. I think the best thing new authors can do is to find a good local critique group, where they can learn the craft from others by getting their work reviewed.
Lee Gramling
It sounds like a pretty lazy way to make a story. I’m surprised the writer in question managed to stay with it. I can always tell when my own writing starts to get boring, because I get bored with it myself — which is what many people call “writer’s block.” When I can’t figure out what needs to happen next it’s a sure sign I haven’t laid a foundation for ANYTHING to happen next.
Niki Kantzios
Excellent point about the unassailable superiority of novels in getting inside the old noggin! Let’s exploit that. Nobody is really entertained by ceaseless actions, are they? But I think you guys are right–it takes some courage to accept that that is true. I like your touchstone for “boring”, Lee. I’ve had the same experience. Thanks for pitching into the discussion, everyone.