Don't say the Z word: pacing and exposition

It can be tricky to keep track of what your characters know, what the reader knows, and what information needs to be given to who by who at what point in the story.

I love a bit of dramatic irony. Any time I can show the reader that the character is going into a situation without all of the information they need, that makes me happy deep in my slightly evil writer's soul. One character witnesses a thing that means the other character's plans are doomed to fail unless the last minute message can get through? Sign. Me. Up.

She knows! But she doesn't know that he knows she knows! (c) NBC/Bryan Fuller

But it's hard to pull those moments off in prose. (It's a lot easier in visual media, where there's inevitably a certain amount going on in any given frame that the viewer knows and the characters don't.)

There's plenty of writerly advice about exposition and how not to do it - google 'infodump' and 'as you know bob' for some perennial favourites. But here are three examples that have been bugging me recently.

I can't tell you that. Why not? Er...
Jake knows that Terry loves yoghurt. Jake finds out that yoghurt is going to be banned in the state of New York, but doesn't tell Terry. Even when Terry mentions how happy he is that he'll always be able to buy yoghurt, Jake doesn't say anything.

How does that make the reader feel about Jake?

Pretty much like this (c) Brooklyn Nine Nine

If you want a character to withhold information, they had better have a really good reason for doing that, and most importantly, you had better communicate that to the reader somehow. They don't need to know all the details, but they have to be able to pick up on the subtext that's stopping Jake giving his friend the information that he needs.

Perhaps Terry says something like 'man, if anyone told me I couldn't have yoghurt any more, I'd break his neck' and Jake replies 'no doubt no doubt' and then runs out of the room - Jake is still a bad friend, but it's because he's a coward, which is understandable even if it's not likeable.

Whereas if you don't put in some kind of acknowledgement, it just seems like you either forgot that Jake had that information, or - which is worse - decided that he couldn't say anything because you want Terry not to know it until later, and hoped nobody would notice.

Yoghurt aside, this tends to apply especially to secondary characters who are supposed to be wise or in positions of power, your kings and wizards. If they have vital information about how to defeat the dark lord, you might want to consider having them tell somebody about it - perhaps this hero who has come riding by, asking for dark lord defeating tips? If they keep schtum and then rock up at the hero's darkest hour saying 'by the way, the dark lord's weakness is his little finger - I knew that all along, just needed to double check you were worthy before I told you', you might have a small plot problem.

I've just seen a unicorn, but never mind that - what's for lunch?
Whether it's urban, space, epic or nostalgic, pretty much all fantasy writers have to deal with how their character reacts when they come across something that doesn't fit into their understanding of the world.

Sometimes, there's no time to dwell - they're in the adventure now, and there's no turning back. Protagonists like Alice can take Wonderland in their stride, because they've crossed the threshold into another world, and no amount of logic will change the fact that you've eaten a cake and now you're huge and being poked with a stick by a toad in a waistcoat.

'Seriously, which part of this would you like me to question first?' (C) Carroll/Tenniel

But sometimes you want to present your hero with a little teaser of the weirdness to come, or you need your protagonist to go on living their normal life around the developing strangeness. When it's handled poorly, you can get situations where the character gets a mystical vision, or is briefly transported to another world, or sees a unicorn cantering down the high street... and goes on as if nothing strange has happened at all.

There are ways around it, and I've used some of them, and not always the particularly clever ones either. People are very good at disbelieving the evidence of their own eyes, you just have to make sure they're doing it for a reason that makes sense. Perhaps Will already has incredibly vivid dreams, or terrible insomnia (or is taking some kind of substance if it's not a children's book). Maybe Ruth knows that as a teenage girl in Salem, admitting to anyone that she did magic in the woods last night is not a good survival plan. Maybe Meg just doesn't have anyone in her life she would want to tell that she turned into a fox...

One book that I think handles this brilliantly is Paul Cornell's London Falling - four different characters have weirdness thrust upon them, and they each handle it differently, each one relating it to their specific character traits and experiences. Having a group of protagonists whose experiences illuminate their similarities and differences, who can confide and check in with each other about what's happening is a genius move.

Walkers, Walkers everywhere and not a brain to eat
This is where the Z word comes into it. There's a whole TV Tropes page about this one.

The problem with 'genre' fiction is that about 5 times out of 10, the reader knows roughly what to expect from the plot before the characters do.

Even if a zombie story manages to convince you that it's set in a world that's exactly like ours except that none of the characters know what a zombie is, you still know exactly what's going on. The heroes can't help it, but they will seem slow on the uptake if it takes them a long time to figure out that the strangely dead-looking people shuffling towards them with grasping hands and drooling lips are undead, hungry and not just looking for a hug.

A classic exception to the rule - Shaun of the Dead plays this trope for laughs and pulls it off magnificently. (C) Simon Pegg/Edgar Wright

Look at your book. It doesn't matter whether it's finished and sold to a publisher or not, think of it as a publishable object for a minute. Imagine your ideal cover. Now imagine your worst nightmare cover, because let's be honest, it's best to be prepared.

Is there a 98% chance your book is going to have a bloody great dragon on the cover? Is your blurb inevitably going to include a phrase like 'But when Sophia's uncle is kidnapped by fairies, she must...'? When readers pick up your book, do they already know that there's going to be magic going on inside, and do they have a pretty good idea of how that magic operates?

If they do, that's not necessarily a bad thing. After all, if you say there is a dragon, the reader might not know exactly how your dragons function in your world but they'll have an instant thumbnail idea of what you're talking about, which means you can either save on the expositional legwork or get your subversion on.

The first Triwizard task is a secret and a mystery! I wonder what it could possibly be! (c) JK Rowling, awesome cover art by Kazu Kibuishi, Jonny Duddle and Giles Greenfield respectively

But, it does mean there's not much point trying to go for the 'surprise' magic reveal late on in the book (which, to be fair, JK Rowling doesn't - it's not really a surprise that there are dragons, because there have been dragons in the series before, it's finding out when Harry's going to encounter one that is the fun part). There's pacing out your story so the character isn't given more than she can handle, and then there's dragging things out so much that the reader loses patience with the story.

Suspension of disbelief is for things, not people.

That's probably a debatable statement, but for me, a book can succeed or completely fail on whether I believe that the characters would act the way they do. You can throw as many plot twists and fantasy elements at them as you like, but if Jake doesn't mention the yoghurt ban, you're in real trouble!

Things and Stuff #14

House, Rabble, what?, kittens, herons

Thing 1: Moving, just keep moving

I moved house two days before Christmas. This was definitely better than moving two days after Christmas would have been, but quite stressful and weird all the same.

My house is awesome. It has stairs. And a fireplace. That you can put fire in. And working wifi, and doors, and a dishwasher which has changed my life pretty much beyond recognition, and a garden although not really plants yet, and a shed, and a table you can actually sit at, and nowhere near enough bookshelves. It's pretty wonderful.

Thing 2: The Rabble first draft is in!
It was hard work and there is a lot more hard work to come, but it is done and I have done it. I have been celebrating by finally tidying my living room and spending a lot more time on Twitter.

Oh, and showing off the beautiful cover. (C) Strange Chemistry 

And just doing this whenever I look at it or anyone mentions it or I remember that it exists (C) Disney

Thing 3: Wait, are we just pretending you haven't vanished from the blogosphere for like six months?

Sorry, did you say something? You'll have to speak up, I can't hear you over the sound of me pretending I didn't vanish from the blogosphere. 

Thing 4: KITTENS!

We adopted a very beautiful, very timid pair of kittens, Misty and Midnight, from the local RSPCA. They are getting bigger and less timid every day and it's a joy to watch.

Misty (top) and Midnight (bottom) being beautiful (C) me

I wrote most of Rabble sitting in their room and getting distracted by their wonderousness so if at any point the first draft suddenly says something like:

'But we have to get the Cluster stone because OMG Midnight you are the cutest look at you licking your sister,' I said, and spontaneously turned into a butterfly from sheer joy.

that will be why.

Thing 5: A siege (or 'sedge' but Rule of Cool means I'm going with 'siege') of graffiti herons
Spotted along my bus route to the station over the last couple of months. There are at least five of these, most of which I haven't got pictures of, because moving bus + photo tends to come out like this:

Yeah, no. There is a graffiti heron in this picture I promise. (C) me

But I did manage to grab a picture of this one:

Awesomeness (C) me/the graffiti artist

And my favourite:

EXTREME awesomeness (C) me/the graffiti artist

Things and Stuff #12

Things and Stuff is a grab-bag of things that have been on my mind this week. In this edition: tour, ill, reviews, cake, delivery.

Thing 1: blog tour is well and truly underway.
Check out the blog tour page for info, links and some blather about transport! I'm actually really enjoying myself so far.

Thing 2: Ill
I lost my voice at the weekend. It was horrible. It's back now.

Thing 3: some reviews
There are a whole bunch of reviews of Skulk up on the blogosphere now - too many to link, but they come up when you Google. (Which I have not been doing... very much.) And there are even more at Goodreads.

This is weird. As I think Sara G pointed out to me a few months ago, it's a very strange feeling when you realise people who you don't know are reading the book. It's even stranger when they have opinions about it and put them on the internet. Strange, but lovely. Some of them are hugely flattering and amazing and gosh, and one or two of them couldn't get behind the book at all for reasons that I entirely respect (and in at least one case, kinda agree with). I feel like I'm currently dealing with this pretty well, although I've yet to see a 0-star or 1-star review so maybe I have those depths still to come...

Thing 4: Mel/Sue/baked goods OT3

   

(Sue Perkins' perfect face (C) Perkins, twee set decoration (C) BBC, gifs by http://rosalindlutece.co.vu/ as far as I can make out)

Thing 5: we got a you-weren't-in card through the door the other day and I rearranged the delivery to my work address, and they said it would come today and it hasn't turned up and I'm annoyed about it. 

Things and Stuff #9

Things and Stuff is a grab-bag of things that've been on my mind this week. In this edition: Final Fantasy, a blog tease, first draft potential, Elle Me Dit, and weather.

Thing 1: Final Fantasy 7
I first played Final Fantasy 7 when I was about fourteen, on the Playstation 1, and it blew my mind a little bit. Nerds everywhere will understand how exciting it was when I discovered I could get it to download to my laptop for a fiver. In the last couple of weeks, I've played through enough of it that I've reached the point where I normally stop, and now I actually don't know exactly what's about to happen any more. 

Except that I will always feel strangely drawn to this collection of 90s polygons forming an evil, long-haired, apparently fire-proof shirt-avoider inexplicably armed with a katana the size of Wales. Be still my shameless fangirl heart (C) Square Enix

This tends to happen to me, with games of all sorts. I play through once and attempt to finish it (often don't, though I did complete FF7 and get the Knights of the Round materia and damn right I felt smug about it), and then go right back to the beginning and play it again until it gets hard, or I get bored, or the disc breaks. And then go back and start again. And again. I've played the beginning of Final Fantasy 7 so many times... and then suddenly, something happened in the plot that I didn't expect, and I realised I don't remember where this is going. I remember the big plot points: amnesia, cloning, major character death, meteors, a big fight in a cave, and something about spending 120 hours catching and breeding giant chickens. 

IT WAS ALL WORTH IT (C) Square Enix

I thought that meant I remembered the plot, but it doesn't, not really. It's making the game almost like new, and while there's no regaining the sense of shock from your first experience of that major character death, I'm really happy that fifteen years on there are still parts of this game that made me sit back and say WAIT, WHAT?

Thing 2: that blog about Beren and Luthien
This Tuesday! I promise! As a teaser, here is an illustration from The Silmarillion that accurately depicts part of the romantic tale of the great love between Luthien the elf-maiden and Beren the mortal man.

Yes, really (C) Ted Nasmith

Thing 3: a partial first draft with some potential
I decided, on a whim, to reread the book I started to write for Nanowrimo last year. It needs a lot of work. The romance is a bit forced, the historical setting is there but not coming across like I want it to, the action is patchy. But there are things that made me gleefully happy in there too, and things that made me cackle evilly, which is a very good sign. I think there's actually a slightly brilliant book out there in the ether, waiting patiently for me to be able to do the hard work it's going to need. 

Thing 4: this song

It's only a silly pop song. It's not new. It's not hugely inventive. It's not even in English. I actually didn't know what the words meant until I looked it up just now to make sure it wasn't horribly offensive or anything. (Here are the lyrics for the curious. I like them! Which is nice. But it could've been about anything...) But it is totally infectious. I think part of it might be because it is in French and it sounds awesome? But honestly, I don't know what it is about this song. All I know is that I cannot stop playing it. 

Thing 5: it's too hot
It is. It's too hot. I'm too hot. Oh god, can you imagine playing tennis - let alone important, life-changing, £1.6 million pound winning tennis - in this weather? I'm off to stick my head in the freezer. 

Things and Stuff #5

Things and Stuff is a grab-bag of things that've been on my mind this week. In this edition: Malorie, Thrones, Glorious, blogging, Ninjago

Thing 1 : Malorie Blackman is the new Children's Laureate!
She is such a brilliant writer and this is such a brilliant choice - if you don't know much about her (I suspect everyone who is reading this will know more about her than I do, but still) and you're wondering why it's brilliant, you should read this Guardian interview.

(It was a huge huge honour to have her as the writers' honorary chair for Undiscovered Voices 2012, sh'e's a wonderful person and the very idea that she's actually read the first chapter of Skulk is sort of mind-blowing.)

Thing 2: This week's episode of Game of Thrones
I'm not going to go into it in any great detail. But I was expecting something pretty amazing, and my reaction still went a little something like this:

Peterson isn't, is he? (C) the BBC

Thing 3: Glorious!
The concert on Tuesday night was really, really awesome. I'm still buzzing a little bit. 290 singers make an incredible noise and as usual David brought out the best in all of us. And it's going to be on the radio on Monday!

Thing 4: I didn't get a sensible blog up this Tuesday
I was due to, because it's been a whole two weeks. To be fair, I had work followed by lunch followed by work followed by a concert. But all that really means is I should've thought about that in advance and written one on Monday.

Sorry about that. I've got one I like for this Tuesday! Maybe don't get your hopes up for any kind of measurable insightfulness or relevance to anything, though: it's about obscure characters from The Lord of the Rings. Sorry.

Thing 5: toy-based children's television
Did you know, Lego: Ninjago is actually really entertaining? Incredibly strange - it's set in ancient China but the bad guys in episode one are a skeleton motorbike gang, which is something I'm not convinced we could get away with in any WP book series. But Ninjago is also actually pretty funny, inventive and exciting. I have to admit to also having a major fondness for My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic and laughing out loud at episodes of Bob the Builder more than once.

I've watched all of these shows on Youtube, of course. What is a te-le-vi-sion? (C) Keith Chapman

It's slightly hard to accept that these stories that are explicitly created to sell toys (so much so that Lego Ninjago isn't actually shown on any UK channels because of laws about advertising to children) does not have to be creatively bankrupt. There's something definitely a bit icky about the concept of the ever-expanding merchandising opportunities that go with these shows. Did you know each Ninjago character has three different costumes? And weapons? And a dragon each? And lots of different vehicles and locations and bits and pieces?

I don't think you could argue that that aspect doesn't matter when you're looking at the TV shows that children watch (and they do watch Ninjago, apparently - they just watch it on youtube). But I am actually really comforted to know that as well as some genius business brains wringing every last penny out of pestered parents... there's actually someone behind the scenes writing engaging plots and funny jokes as well. If they're going to be hooked on advertising dressed up as drama, and let's face it, they are... it might as well be good.