Chuck Q & A - Jan 2004
1. From elitebds:
How can you put in accurate details if you are writing in the first person? What if the narrator isn't very smart or generally aloof to details? Or doesn't like to build himself up as a smart guy by showing off his knowledge?
Chuck Responds:
Good question, and your job is to balance this concept of heart versus heart – leading with heart is my advice for gaining sympathy for your narrator and enrolling the reader. Then, as contrast, move on to the “head” stuff – the facts and details that are the education of the narrator. Still, never go on too long with the research stuff or it becomes obvious you’re trying to justify the time you spent accumulating it – or being a boring show-off. Be sure the head stuff furthers the plot, reveals characters, or has SOME good reason for being on the page. Otherwise, toss it.
2. From BitOfFinger:
I've read interviews with authors where they say that convincing the reader you know what you're talking about is much more important than actually knowing all the correct details about a particular subject.
When deciding to use the head method, how important do you think it is to actually thoroughly research a new subject? Is it ever easier to just assume that the reader will never check your facts? And when you do decide to use the head method and include details about an area that's new to you as a writer, how do you avoid making the characters seem like they're reading from a textbook, rattling off reams of data about their area of expertise?
Chuck Responds:
First, I always research the head stuff because it’s stuff I want to know. Stuff I find interesting. And I trust that the reader will also. Plus, while you research you discover aspects of the subject you didn’t expect. Those tangents take the story – and you, the author – to places you never imagined going. Your subject matter begins to steer the plot more and more, and you can relax your control and enjoy the ride.
About readers checking facts: People who want to fight with you will. No matter how well you research, someone will always argue that you’re wrong. Those letters – God Bless ‘em – go right into the trash. The comfort is – people nit-picking your work aren’t creating any of their own.
About sounding text-booky. Sometimes that’s not bad. It gives the information a bland, cold quality that contrasts very well with the narrative voice. But only for short, short stretches. Again, there must be a reason for providing that information. As a LAST DITCH option, you can always create a “Dr. Watson” character, an idiot, so the information can be “delivered” to him in a scene – thereby delivering it to the reader. Poor, dumb Dr. Watson.
3. From AnthonyFranciosa:
Regarding the "Heart" method of establishing authority, I understand that it "allow[s] the reader to risk becoming... emotionally involved." That said, how do you "become the fool instead of the hero," yet still keep the reader from simply hating the character, and putting the book down?
Chuck Responds:
Here’s my guess. A fool who does nothing but complain and perpetuate their status is boring. We hate those people in our lives. It’s so obvious they love their own boring pain. But a fool, running around, trying to fix his life and save himself is endearing. We can see ourselves in that. And a fool with the self-awareness to poke fun at himself is ideal.
4. From LaughingColor:
While writing two short stories for your first assignment, I noticed something that may be a problem for me down the line. The lead character in my story on the Head method of establishing authority is an unapologetic asshole, which was a lot of fun to write. But I came to realize that it would be hard to establish authority through the Heart method with a character as unsympathetic as that. Which seems to limit my options a bit. I was wondering if you had any advice or other methods of establishing authority with a hard-to-like character. Thanks so much for the forum.
Chuck Responds:
How about the “animal” method? It’s really the heart method in disquise. Any asshole becomes likeable when we meet his dog, or fish or little yellow canary. The way to make a character “human” is to contrast him with an “inhuman” animal which he loves and caretakes. The best example of this is in “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep” (the Sci-Fi book that the film Bladerunner was based on). In “Androids” the hard-ass narrator dreams of owning a goat he can love – and his humanity is killed when that goat is killed, in one of the saddest scenes in fiction. This is why Tender Branson had a goldfish in “Survivor.” Just so he could cry when it died.
5. From JKabol:
As an author, when you command authority as a bully would on school-grounds, how do you not piss off or even irritate your reader who could simply put your book down? This worry came to me when I was working on my piece for Head Authority, and I kept feeling like I was being too pushy. You see, I have read books and stories where-in the author will bully the reader (me or whoever) into how to think and feel and I would get annoyed or irritated, and sometimes I would get pissed off and put the book down, forever. It’s not some big morale; it is just a feeling I cannot deny. After reading your books several times (for recreation), I notice that you occasionally do this, but you do so with a nice affect. My question is how are you able to be so subtle when applying this?
Chuck Responds:
Humor. Show the character’s vulnerability by showing how they hide behind their knowledge. Show how all their facts and education are just a flimsy coping mechanism that gives them a false sense of control and protection. Again, like Tender Branson in “Survivor” cleaning stains and cleaning stains to deny he has no real effect on the world. He’s still going to die. Or Victor in “Choke” using all his knowledge about physical diagnosis – all those moles and blotches that prove our mortality – as his excuse NOT to live his life. It’s a spooky, very Socratic method where you show the narrator’s false thinking so the reader can recognize it long before the narrator does.
6. From Howdyzowdy:
When using the head method, I had trouble finding a story in it. My information related to throwing the discus because it's something that I have fairly advanced knowledge about. After a while though I got carried away from the information and had trouble finding a story in it. Should I be starting with an Idea for a story and filling in the blanks with the information or should I begin with the information and work my way out from there?
Chuck Responds:
Hey, I love the discus. That is the only sport I can practice forever. But hell, a metaphor is not a whole story. I would not begin to teach where good stories come from. I still don’t know. All I can hope to do is give you tools for building and presenting those stories to the best possible effect. That’s where authority comes in. But… when practicing discus, you always have to look around for people’s dogs that might mistake your throw for a Frisbee. I’ve heard terrible stories about dead or toothless dogs. That might be your story. In that way, your story might already be embedded in the experience.
7. From Just Happening:
Is there a third option that might work better than the head or heart narrative styles?
Chuck Responds:
Not that I know of. Being clever and overtly funny or sarcastic is STILL “head stuff.” Or being observant, like a good nature writer – well, that’s still head stuff. Or changing type faces all over the page and running narrative in the margins or footnotes – being visually clever – that’s STILL head stuff.
If you come up with a third option, let me know.
8. From Solle:
One flaw I always find in my writing is a lack of integrity. Each paragraph looks good as a stand alone thing, but lacks connection to the rest of the story, now matter how hard I try. Part of the problem is the fact that I can't seem to keep up a single writing style. Any suggestions?
Chuck Responds:
Try this: The writer Tom Spanbauer calls it “Shitting out the lump of coal.” Write the whole damn story – or chapter or BOOK. And know that your writing will improve, and your characters develop over the process. Then, as a better writer, knowing the true ending, you rewrite. And rewrite. You look for dropped things and incorporate them throughout. You create the “integrity” you lack. So: Shit out the coal… then, maul it and knead it into a perfect whole.
9. From Mahayr:
My question is a general one, one that I need an answer to and would apply to any lesson, including this one (and thank you for these)
I find myself afraid to use catch phrases. You use them in all of your books, they are quoted and become sayings of the day, week, month.
I have been using catch phrases all of my life but now find myself afraid of being labeled a copycat, or of being accused of using a "Chuckism".
What do -you- think?
Chuck Responds:
You use short-hand “catch” phrases because you’re a human being and that’s what we ALL do. Read “Slaughterhouse 5” and you’ll stop seeing the phrase: “So it goes.” The phrase disappears because it follows every death. It becomes a bland pause. It’s wonderful -- and it works because it’s such a natural, human trait. The secret… or trick… is maybe to anchor your phrases in scenes so effective that readers will accept them as just a good echo of that original, wonderful, sad moment. Choruses do a lot of things very well. They complete a moment. They echo a moment. They acknowledge something without being stopped by that thing. God Bless ‘Em. I’ll be writing a whole topic on choruses, later this year.
10. From PERLsoprock:
Do you have any advice for people in the High School to College age range on how to make time to write? It seems like either I can make serious head way in my book, or fail my classes. How did you solve this problem when you were younger?
Chuck Responds:
Write in concrete scenes, always thinking: “What must this scene accomplish?” Shit out the coal – the rough, first draft, and always, ALWAYS carry a hard copy of it. So – on the bus, at the doctor’s waiting room, in the airport – anyplace you get trapped and bored, you can line-edit your scene with a pen. Next time you sit at the computer, create a clean, revised hard copy. Then, carry that around for a week. You’ll be amazed how much writing you get done, away from the computer. Good material and details occur in the real world. And the story in your back pocket keeps it in your mind, so you’re always looking for material. Good material occurs in tiny, tiny drips. This way, you’re awake and ready to collect it all.
