I’ve written a fair share of narrative nonfiction and a novel (currently querying). They are not the same critter. But both are skewered by the three points you’ve made. Thanks for the reminder.
E. M. Forster’s nice little book Aspects of the Novel gives one answer: at first we can do all sorts of things in developing character and setting and plot, but the end of the book has to force itself to tie up all those loose ends, and here the writing can go awry.
I had Wendell Berry in mind with your three criteria of vision, skill, and character because he is the most consistent writer that I know of.
Taking just his fiction, you see some lack of polish in his early work, and a struggle with vision in his ambitious A Place on Earth (where the protagonist is a place not a person) l, but he seems to never stumble on character.
I think the discipline of farming from boyhood instilled in him a work ethic second to none. At one point when I visited with him, he was farming, sheep herding, and teaching English at the University of Kentucky. During this time he said, he was reading The Fairie Queen in the morning and Jane Austen at night. He was producing poetry, fiction, and non-fiction at a pace that someone solely focused on writing would be more than satisfied with.
I think he could do so because all his work comes organically from what he does, where he lives, and who he is.
Great post. Sometimes an idea has to steep like a pot of tea. You can take the lid off and stir it a bit, but only time releases the full flavour. Sometimes when I'm writing, I can see where something is weak or not working, but can't immediately see how to fix it. I think about it a bit, then put it on the back burner. My subconscious works on it and then suddenly the revelation comes. And it's usually accompanied by an eyeroll and "of course" on my part.
Wholeheartedly agree with these 3 pitfalls on the part of authors. I’m curious what you would diagnose as the pitfalls on the publisher’s side that can result in good work still flopping.
For my draft novel, started in 2018, and worked on in the interstices of a demanding professional career, I have a timeline running from 1989 to 2018, which is currently 77 pages, 9,000 words, in four columns: Date, Personal, Political and Military, Religious and Cultural, Technology and Business. The timeline covers a contemplated trilogy. I know what needs to be written in Volume I, which is about 2/3 done at 216,422 words as of today. Each chapter has a purpose, but as I write it, the characters do things and say things which are new to me, so it is a mix of gardening and architecture. Also, I wrote the epilogue to the book years ago, so I know how it ends, and I have revised that chapter countless times, so at least it is well-wrought. If I live long enough to finish the book I will find out if there is an editor out there somewhere who will even give it the time of day. Maybe. If not I will get a professional copy editor and pay him his professional rate to clean it up, then publish it myself. Hoping to be done around this time next year. It's been a slog, but I think there is a glimmer on the horizon. Hopefully I will have sufficient vision, skill, and character to finish and to produce something worth reading.
If I were to ever write a book, it would be by a method similar to Towles. Like most people, I have had ideas for a book and so I test them by doing what Towles did, trying to imagine it out. When I cannot get very far in imagining, I know it will not work. I have always thought that the key to being author of a full length work is to not only to be unable to leave your idea alone until it is fully formed, but also to be able to envision the coherent steps that will carry out the idea.
As to the question, Why doesn't a bad book get better?, I would note that more than once, I have started a book that I thought was bad, only to find it was my vision of what the work was meant to accomplish that was at fault. The author was going in a direction I did not anticipate. 'The Painted Veil' by Somerset Maugham is one such example. Starting it, it seemed like it would be the typical early 20th century novel of realism where unlikeable, unsympathetic characters who were all self-absorbed, would torment one another with pettiness and the ending would simply convey the futility of life - I have tried multiple times to read Maugham's 'The Razor's Edge' all the way through and cannot for that very reason (I know how it ends, because in my younger years, I skipped to the end to see if there was any redemption). So I was astonished to find that 'The Painted Veil' is actually about someone unlikeable maturing beyond their self-absorption and finding mercy, grace, and redemption. So, in that sense, what the reader perceives as a bad book initially, may, in fact, get better.
The publishing and agenting process likely provides a filter explaining the effect. When agents or publishers receive a manuscript, they rarely read all of it. They read the first few pages and find it lacking, and then discard it. Only the fraction that start well get read all the way through and become agented/published. So it's a matter of the skewed perception brought on by looking at published work that leads to Callard's puzzle.
“Why,” asked Callard, “is it so much more common for a work of art to start well and end poorly than vice versa?”
I’ll get some heat for this but I found myself unimpressed with North Woods by Daniel Mason. I felt like it was too contrived. And I was disappointed given all the hullabaloo about it and my love of New England.
I’ve written a fair share of narrative nonfiction and a novel (currently querying). They are not the same critter. But both are skewered by the three points you’ve made. Thanks for the reminder.
E. M. Forster’s nice little book Aspects of the Novel gives one answer: at first we can do all sorts of things in developing character and setting and plot, but the end of the book has to force itself to tie up all those loose ends, and here the writing can go awry.
I had Wendell Berry in mind with your three criteria of vision, skill, and character because he is the most consistent writer that I know of.
Taking just his fiction, you see some lack of polish in his early work, and a struggle with vision in his ambitious A Place on Earth (where the protagonist is a place not a person) l, but he seems to never stumble on character.
I think the discipline of farming from boyhood instilled in him a work ethic second to none. At one point when I visited with him, he was farming, sheep herding, and teaching English at the University of Kentucky. During this time he said, he was reading The Fairie Queen in the morning and Jane Austen at night. He was producing poetry, fiction, and non-fiction at a pace that someone solely focused on writing would be more than satisfied with.
I think he could do so because all his work comes organically from what he does, where he lives, and who he is.
Great post. Sometimes an idea has to steep like a pot of tea. You can take the lid off and stir it a bit, but only time releases the full flavour. Sometimes when I'm writing, I can see where something is weak or not working, but can't immediately see how to fix it. I think about it a bit, then put it on the back burner. My subconscious works on it and then suddenly the revelation comes. And it's usually accompanied by an eyeroll and "of course" on my part.
Great post!
Wholeheartedly agree with these 3 pitfalls on the part of authors. I’m curious what you would diagnose as the pitfalls on the publisher’s side that can result in good work still flopping.
Wonderful stuff here, Joel. Thank you!
For my draft novel, started in 2018, and worked on in the interstices of a demanding professional career, I have a timeline running from 1989 to 2018, which is currently 77 pages, 9,000 words, in four columns: Date, Personal, Political and Military, Religious and Cultural, Technology and Business. The timeline covers a contemplated trilogy. I know what needs to be written in Volume I, which is about 2/3 done at 216,422 words as of today. Each chapter has a purpose, but as I write it, the characters do things and say things which are new to me, so it is a mix of gardening and architecture. Also, I wrote the epilogue to the book years ago, so I know how it ends, and I have revised that chapter countless times, so at least it is well-wrought. If I live long enough to finish the book I will find out if there is an editor out there somewhere who will even give it the time of day. Maybe. If not I will get a professional copy editor and pay him his professional rate to clean it up, then publish it myself. Hoping to be done around this time next year. It's been a slog, but I think there is a glimmer on the horizon. Hopefully I will have sufficient vision, skill, and character to finish and to produce something worth reading.
This is such helpful, solid advice.
If I were to ever write a book, it would be by a method similar to Towles. Like most people, I have had ideas for a book and so I test them by doing what Towles did, trying to imagine it out. When I cannot get very far in imagining, I know it will not work. I have always thought that the key to being author of a full length work is to not only to be unable to leave your idea alone until it is fully formed, but also to be able to envision the coherent steps that will carry out the idea.
As to the question, Why doesn't a bad book get better?, I would note that more than once, I have started a book that I thought was bad, only to find it was my vision of what the work was meant to accomplish that was at fault. The author was going in a direction I did not anticipate. 'The Painted Veil' by Somerset Maugham is one such example. Starting it, it seemed like it would be the typical early 20th century novel of realism where unlikeable, unsympathetic characters who were all self-absorbed, would torment one another with pettiness and the ending would simply convey the futility of life - I have tried multiple times to read Maugham's 'The Razor's Edge' all the way through and cannot for that very reason (I know how it ends, because in my younger years, I skipped to the end to see if there was any redemption). So I was astonished to find that 'The Painted Veil' is actually about someone unlikeable maturing beyond their self-absorption and finding mercy, grace, and redemption. So, in that sense, what the reader perceives as a bad book initially, may, in fact, get better.
The publishing and agenting process likely provides a filter explaining the effect. When agents or publishers receive a manuscript, they rarely read all of it. They read the first few pages and find it lacking, and then discard it. Only the fraction that start well get read all the way through and become agented/published. So it's a matter of the skewed perception brought on by looking at published work that leads to Callard's puzzle.
“Why,” asked Callard, “is it so much more common for a work of art to start well and end poorly than vice versa?”
As I contemplate a second try at a novel, this is a great reminder of what commitment it would take.
My first, written eight to ten years ago, attracted an agent, but was never sold. It sits on my shelf, a mute reproach to my hubris back then.
I’ll get some heat for this but I found myself unimpressed with North Woods by Daniel Mason. I felt like it was too contrived. And I was disappointed given all the hullabaloo about it and my love of New England.
What a great article. Never considered the process an author must go through and how many ways it can be done. Thank you. Jill Garvey
“If you have a problem with the third act, the real problem is in the first act.”
— Billy Wilder