I stumbled across a wonderful example for going deeper. It marries the two things that I discussed in the last post: adding details and getting to the truth of characters.
Let’s go back to a classic—good ol’ Romeo and Juliet. As a freshman English teacher, this is a text I have read countless times. However, it wasn’t until last year that a tiny detail stood out to me for the first time. And this little detail gave me pause—and made me think about Romeo differently.
Just incase you haven’t read R&J since high school—some background. Romeo was interested in another girl before he meets Juliet. This girl, Rosaline, is not a character in the play—she is only discussed. Juliet’s father refers to her as “my fair niece.” How did I overlook this detail for so many years? Rosaline is a Capulet—and hence, as unattainable as Juliet. While I had previously considered Juliet’s unavailability as one of the reasons for Romeo’s attractions (and I have more opinions than you want to hear about Romeo and the validity of his emotions), this tiny hint makes a random thought into a possible pattern--that Romeo is only attracted to the unattainable. But since this is a blog about going deeper and not an essay about Romeo and Juliet, I will stop here.
The fact that Rosaline is a Capulet is only a small detail, but it is one that gets to the truth of Romeo’s character. The fact that it is a detail about Rosaline that illuminates Romeo’s character is also fascinating to me. It is this kind of detail that I am striving to create in my own texts. I’m going to keep this example in the back of my mind as I struggle to “go deeper”.
On that note, I better get back to writing.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Going Deeper
For the past few months, something a colleague said at a dinner has been tumbling around in my head trying to find a place to land. Her advice for writing was simple: “go deeper.”
What does that mean? I feel like that phrase is a kernel of wisdom—if only I could unpack it. I am reminded of wading through Emerson and attempting to comprehend essays about “concentric circles” and “man thinking”. Yet, here, we are faced not with an essay or speech, but with only two words: go deeper.
What is it that we are asking for when we look for depth in writing?
As a high school teacher, I urged young writers to go deeper in their writing by adding details. A freshman student might write about a “fun” party. To add depth, students would think about what specifically made that party “fun.” Was there a monkey in the kitchen? Did someone bring homemade tamales? Did your character finally get to make out with that guy she sits next to in Biology? And while this is a good place to begin a discussion of depth, especially for the emerging fourteen-year-old writer, it seems that the phrase “go deeper” encompasses more than just adding details. After all, it isn’t all that challenging to think up additional details. The difficulty, perhaps, comes with determining which of those additional details are relevant and help to move the story forward. Which are the details that get to the truth of the story? Which are the details that get to the truth for the character?
For me, going deeper means not letting yourself, as the writer, off the hook. My current main character, Abby, is searching for hope. She feels lonely and completely abandoned. Her response to these circumstances is to look for hope—somewhere, anywhere. But this is still all very surface. To go deeper, I need to take a closer look. What does hope mean for Abby? Why does she think this is an answer to her dilemma? Will she look inside herself? Or to outside sources? And what does that say about her character? Why has she attached to the word “hope”? And the questions continue.
Asking and attempting to answer these questions isn’t really about adding details; instead, it is focusing on the very core of your character. What is it that drives and compels them? What is it that makes them alive? Going deeper is more than just adding details to create a vivid scene—it is exploring your characters completely. It means discovering things about them that your reader will never know. And it means continuing to ask questions knowing that the answers will only reveal more questions.
And the best thing about going deeper? It is that there is more to it than I understand now. If I look back at this blog in five or ten years, will I have a different and more complete comprehension of the two-word phrase? Perhaps my ramblings here will feel as sophomoric as telling my fourteen-year old students that going deeper means creating more details. Will my understanding continue to develop with every text I write and every character I create? I hope so.
What does that mean? I feel like that phrase is a kernel of wisdom—if only I could unpack it. I am reminded of wading through Emerson and attempting to comprehend essays about “concentric circles” and “man thinking”. Yet, here, we are faced not with an essay or speech, but with only two words: go deeper.
What is it that we are asking for when we look for depth in writing?
As a high school teacher, I urged young writers to go deeper in their writing by adding details. A freshman student might write about a “fun” party. To add depth, students would think about what specifically made that party “fun.” Was there a monkey in the kitchen? Did someone bring homemade tamales? Did your character finally get to make out with that guy she sits next to in Biology? And while this is a good place to begin a discussion of depth, especially for the emerging fourteen-year-old writer, it seems that the phrase “go deeper” encompasses more than just adding details. After all, it isn’t all that challenging to think up additional details. The difficulty, perhaps, comes with determining which of those additional details are relevant and help to move the story forward. Which are the details that get to the truth of the story? Which are the details that get to the truth for the character?
For me, going deeper means not letting yourself, as the writer, off the hook. My current main character, Abby, is searching for hope. She feels lonely and completely abandoned. Her response to these circumstances is to look for hope—somewhere, anywhere. But this is still all very surface. To go deeper, I need to take a closer look. What does hope mean for Abby? Why does she think this is an answer to her dilemma? Will she look inside herself? Or to outside sources? And what does that say about her character? Why has she attached to the word “hope”? And the questions continue.
Asking and attempting to answer these questions isn’t really about adding details; instead, it is focusing on the very core of your character. What is it that drives and compels them? What is it that makes them alive? Going deeper is more than just adding details to create a vivid scene—it is exploring your characters completely. It means discovering things about them that your reader will never know. And it means continuing to ask questions knowing that the answers will only reveal more questions.
And the best thing about going deeper? It is that there is more to it than I understand now. If I look back at this blog in five or ten years, will I have a different and more complete comprehension of the two-word phrase? Perhaps my ramblings here will feel as sophomoric as telling my fourteen-year old students that going deeper means creating more details. Will my understanding continue to develop with every text I write and every character I create? I hope so.
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