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Seven Writerly Things to learn from JKR
Jul. 25th, 2007 09:33 amI'm sure I'm not the only writer who will think these things; millions of people are out there pondering why they like these books so much. I feel like I need to write this down for myself, though.
What we can learn about writing from Rowling:
1. Falling in love with characters. Her characters are full of weaknesses and vulnerabilities, which we as imperfect people can relate to, yet at the same time, Harry doesn't mess up when it comes to the big choices. He (and his friends) are heroic where it counts. (And sometimes, the place "where it counts" is in overcoming their own weaknesses, and making their changes stick.) Unlike some classic fantasies I can think of, Rowling keeps up a nice mix of the mundane and the sublime , which keeps the characters nicely grounded in reality (as well as keeping things from getting too sappy). Rowling is excellent at making us love characters who suffer in dreadful circumstances, yet we don't feel they're whiny (and even Harry's emotionality in the fifth book is understandable, given everything he's been through). I think one way she manages this is by not showing the character how awful the situation is. The reader knows there's something sick about making your nephew sleep in the closet with the spiders, but Harry's just happy to get to go to the zoo instead of looking at photos of Mrs. Figg's cats. He's so happy with this one small thing, while we see that in the full context of his troubles, and we have instant sympathy. Another thing, of course, is the importance of having your character fight back. We're happy Harry's at the zoo--but we're pretty delighted that he manages to sic a python on Dudley.
2. Strangely, I've read some complaints on HP being all British. Well, of course. Rowling IS British. I loved the Old English-y names and everything in it that was uniquely British. Obviously, it hasn't hindered the millions of readers who aren't British from loving the books. Sometimes to be universal, you have to be specific.
3. Sacrifice. Figure out what your character has the most to lose, and strip him/her down until s/he has to face that very thing. Whatever kind of book you are writing, whether it's life and death, or fantasy, or a fluffy beach read, a novel exists because of tension. That moment where your character must strip away all defenses and excuses and face the crucial challenge is the lynchpin of the entire novel. Don't shy away from it.
4. Hope. Perhaps it's a matter of personal taste (the personal taste of millions?) but people seem to respond to a book that holds out hope in the midst of darkness
5. Genius plotting. JKR makes every single thing in the story serve double duty. There are no meaningless background details. Every character you think is just background, every detail that looks like description, ends up vital to the plot. O for Outstanding on Plot!
6. Surprise. Her most effective tool at surprising the reader seems to be, tell the truth, but only one character's view of it, or only a bit of it. Then, once the reader is sure they know the whole story, tell the truth from someone else's POV, or give a little more, and suddenly the reader has to restructure the entire story all over again. It happens over and over again, and yet it continues to work.
7. Villains. I think we got to see something good about every single villain in HP. Did you ever think in the first book that you'd ever feel sorry for Voldemort? And then you read the second, sympathize with Tom Riddle, understand, even, why he might have been overhasty in accusing Hagrid, just so he could stay at Hogwarts. Then you find out who Tom is. Not to mention the whole sixth book. And there are others that we end up feeling sorry for as well before the series ends. How does she make us pity even the worst? She lets us see a time when they were wronged themselves. When they were unwanted, when someone supposedly good made fun of them. She lets the good guy walk in the antagonist's skin for a moment, and we find ourselves wanting to defend that bad guy for a moment. Which creates an interesting connection between the reader and the villain. We hate them for the way they treat the hero. Yet, we see that we can't entirely judge them, because it's not entirely their fault that they ended up damaged. But Harry (and others) have also been treated like that, yet they chose not to be villains, which leads us back to realizing that yes, they are still the bad guys. So we hate them, but our hate is tinged with sorrow and compassion. Complicated, but effective!
Anything else about writing that Harry has taught you?
What we can learn about writing from Rowling:
1. Falling in love with characters. Her characters are full of weaknesses and vulnerabilities, which we as imperfect people can relate to, yet at the same time, Harry doesn't mess up when it comes to the big choices. He (and his friends) are heroic where it counts. (And sometimes, the place "where it counts" is in overcoming their own weaknesses, and making their changes stick.) Unlike some classic fantasies I can think of, Rowling keeps up a nice mix of the mundane and the sublime , which keeps the characters nicely grounded in reality (as well as keeping things from getting too sappy). Rowling is excellent at making us love characters who suffer in dreadful circumstances, yet we don't feel they're whiny (and even Harry's emotionality in the fifth book is understandable, given everything he's been through). I think one way she manages this is by not showing the character how awful the situation is. The reader knows there's something sick about making your nephew sleep in the closet with the spiders, but Harry's just happy to get to go to the zoo instead of looking at photos of Mrs. Figg's cats. He's so happy with this one small thing, while we see that in the full context of his troubles, and we have instant sympathy. Another thing, of course, is the importance of having your character fight back. We're happy Harry's at the zoo--but we're pretty delighted that he manages to sic a python on Dudley.
2. Strangely, I've read some complaints on HP being all British. Well, of course. Rowling IS British. I loved the Old English-y names and everything in it that was uniquely British. Obviously, it hasn't hindered the millions of readers who aren't British from loving the books. Sometimes to be universal, you have to be specific.
3. Sacrifice. Figure out what your character has the most to lose, and strip him/her down until s/he has to face that very thing. Whatever kind of book you are writing, whether it's life and death, or fantasy, or a fluffy beach read, a novel exists because of tension. That moment where your character must strip away all defenses and excuses and face the crucial challenge is the lynchpin of the entire novel. Don't shy away from it.
4. Hope. Perhaps it's a matter of personal taste (the personal taste of millions?) but people seem to respond to a book that holds out hope in the midst of darkness
5. Genius plotting. JKR makes every single thing in the story serve double duty. There are no meaningless background details. Every character you think is just background, every detail that looks like description, ends up vital to the plot. O for Outstanding on Plot!
6. Surprise. Her most effective tool at surprising the reader seems to be, tell the truth, but only one character's view of it, or only a bit of it. Then, once the reader is sure they know the whole story, tell the truth from someone else's POV, or give a little more, and suddenly the reader has to restructure the entire story all over again. It happens over and over again, and yet it continues to work.
7. Villains. I think we got to see something good about every single villain in HP. Did you ever think in the first book that you'd ever feel sorry for Voldemort? And then you read the second, sympathize with Tom Riddle, understand, even, why he might have been overhasty in accusing Hagrid, just so he could stay at Hogwarts. Then you find out who Tom is. Not to mention the whole sixth book. And there are others that we end up feeling sorry for as well before the series ends. How does she make us pity even the worst? She lets us see a time when they were wronged themselves. When they were unwanted, when someone supposedly good made fun of them. She lets the good guy walk in the antagonist's skin for a moment, and we find ourselves wanting to defend that bad guy for a moment. Which creates an interesting connection between the reader and the villain. We hate them for the way they treat the hero. Yet, we see that we can't entirely judge them, because it's not entirely their fault that they ended up damaged. But Harry (and others) have also been treated like that, yet they chose not to be villains, which leads us back to realizing that yes, they are still the bad guys. So we hate them, but our hate is tinged with sorrow and compassion. Complicated, but effective!
Anything else about writing that Harry has taught you?
