Hi Folks,
A while back, a friend wrote, “I always hear how my writing should flow well, but I never hear much about how to accomplish that. How do you create good flow?” And then a few days ago, in Part I of my Writing Realistic Dialogue seminar, one of the attendees brought up the same topic, in a manner of speaking. At least I used a version of the example below to answer her question.
When I first thought about addressing this topic in a blog post, I thought probably there wasn’t enough room. But on further reflection, I was wrong. I can (and will) give you a few examples of how to improve “flow” in a sentence or paragraph, and what is a novel or memoir but a series of interconnected sentences and paragraphs? Yeah, I know it sounds like I’m cheating, but bear with me here.
Several years ago when I was still in college, my favorite professor (who looked like the product of Albert Einstein and Mark Twain) asked our class almost in passing, “What makes good writing?” Although some of us pondered it through a few semesters, we never came up with a satisfactory answer. Today, I know the answer. It is flow.
Okay, but what is “flow?” By my definition, it’s the characteristic of a written communication that captures and holds the reader’s uninterrupted interest from beginning to end. Does that sound about right? Flow has many sub-elements, of course, like plot and how the plot is delivered: realistic characters speaking realistic dialogue, a narrator who uses action verbs to set and describe the scenes and then steps aside so as not to be intrusive, a conscientious writer who makes sure he doesn’t use “waste” when he means the part of a woman that occurs just above the hips, etc. Anyway, if we accept the definition of “flow” as “the characteristic of a written communication that captures and holds the reader’s uninterrupted interest from beginning to end,” and if we accept that “the reader’s uninterrupted interest” is the key phrase, I suspect the whole secret to good “flow” is writing in such a way that doesn’t interrupt the reader unnecessarily.
Again, bear with me. How can we tell the difference between a “necessary” interruption and an unnecessary interruption? Here’s an example. In school, we’re taught that when we combine two independent clauses (subject and verb, can stand alone) with a coordinating conjunction (and, or, nor, for, but, so, yet), we have to accompany the coordinating conjunction with a comma, thus:
- Frightened, Jake swung his legs from the desk, and his boots hit the floor with a solid thump.
Of course, you’ll remember we can also join two closely related clauses with a semicolon, like this:
- Frightened, Jake swung his legs from the desk; his boots hit the floor with a solid thump.
Or we might choose to write the passage in two separate independent clauses, like this:
- Frightened, Jake swung his legs from the desk. His boots hit the floor with a solid thump.
That’s how we’re supposed to do it, per the rules of grammar and syntax. But think about this — is it really necessary to interrupt the flow of the sentence (and more importantly, the flow of the action in the sentence) with the short pause created by that comma, the longer pause created by the semicolon, or the much longer pause created by the period? Nope. So the reader can experience the mini-scene as one continuing action, you can omit the punctuation and write it like this:
- Frightened, Jake swung his legs from the desk and his boots hit the floor with a solid thump.
Does the action flow better now? Imagine the impact that would have on your novel if you considered each active passage throughout the manuscript! The only way to learn this stuff is to practice it, then practice it some more. Here are a few specific pointers that will immediately improve the flow of your writing:
Rather than letting your narrator tell the reader what the characters are saying, Let the characters speak for themselves so the reader can “overhear” the characters. When he’s telling the reader what the characters are saying, the narrator is a middleman who comes between the reader and the characters.
Don’t allow your narrator to use the “sense” verbs: saw, smelled, felt, tasted, heard, etc. I will address this in much more depth in a later post on this blog.
Perhaps most difficult, Delete any narrative that doesn’t advance the story line. Again, even when the narrative is necessary, the narrator comes between the reader and the story line. That’s a necessary evil. But unnecessary narrative is an unforgiveable act of treason against you, the narrator’s boss. If your narrator refuses to simply describe the scene and get out of the way, I recommend you drive him out into the desert and shoot him.
And absolutely the most important, best advice I can give any writer: Read Your Work Aloud. No other technique will enable you to more quickly catch glitches in the flow of your writing.
Oh, one other thing — many of you know I’m a strong advocate of using dialogue to advance the story line. In a correspondence with another writer a while back, I mentioned almost in passing that Dialogue equals action in the written work, because it forces the reader to be a “character” in the story: The Eavesdropper. It forces the reader to lean into the story, just like a strong action scene written in narrative will do. And of course, if you can keep your reader directly engaged in your story line, you will enjoy a growing and appreciative readership.
Until next time, happy writing!
Harvey
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