Writing Rockface: The Over Blight

As well as writing amazing stories (he he!), I run a full-time creative support business. It includes editing, mentoring, teaching, book layouts, and other publishing support for authors and publishers.

My last two posts looked at filter words and points-of-view, but today I’ve got what I term ‘Over Blight’ on my mind. Over Blight can taint sentence clauses or entire paragraphs, and at its worst can blemish a whole manuscript. It’s hard to know if your manuscript has it while you’re actually writing. First readers and editors might even pick it up before you do.

Definition

Over Blight involves over-using devices that do not belong in a narrative at a given point. It can include over-telling, over-showing, over-writing, over-explaining and over-poeticising. For example, this paragraph suffers from Over Blight:

A raging temper flamed through Mich as he heard screams come from the other side of the battlements. It felt like he was on fire. As if hearing his thoughts, the scent of burnt flesh attacked his nostrils. Nausea crept into his throat, tart like a gulp of mead that had sat in the sun too long. He could smell people burning. Friends? Family? He looked up to search a sky as dark as his heart, hoping to find the source – a fire, some smoke? Yes, there, to the east, a fire emblazoned the darkness, mirroring his rage. His father’s workshop was to the east. What if his father were still inside? He could be in danger! Mich gripped at his sword like the life he now wanted to save. If he was fast, he might save others too. He turned and ran under the portcullis.

At this point in the narrative, there’s no time for Mich to worry about his nausea, there’s no time for Mich to even think – it’s a time for action, not contemplation; speed, not hesitation. To communicate this situation more effectively to the reader, we need to show not tell the action, cut the poetic devices (however apt or beautiful), quit showing every reaction he has, and keep the sequence concise:

Screams came from within the battlements. Smoke carried the tartness of burnt flesh. Mich tightened his sword grip, searched the night sky for the glow of fire. There, to the east, near his father’s workshop. “No!” he yelled, and ran under the portcullis.

Symptoms

Stories suffering from Over Blight can be wordy, lack tension, and produce unsympathetic characters. Readers may find themselves skim-reading sections that are supposed to be dramatic, and therefore miss vital plot points and character development. When Over Blight affects an entire manuscript, the reader can feel underwhelmed and even bored.

Causes

Over Blight is caused by an over-focus on writing as an enjoyable activity, rather than as a communication tool. Most writers love words and struggle to silence the secret poet inside them. Their secret poet is constantly trying to reach into their narrative voice and spin words into beautiful new creations. However, it isn’t always apt to do so. In such situations, we must silence our love of words, and instead focus on the purpose behind every sentence, make each word work hard for its place.

Over Blight can also be caused by a writer not trusting the reader to understand. Their lack of faith results in an irrepressible urge to over-explain.

Treatment

To treat Over Blight, we must search our manuscripts for anything over the top for each scene – over-telling, over-showing, over-writing, over-explaining and over-poeticising.

Over-Telling

The popular maxim ‘show don’t tell’ teaches us that over-telling disengages readers and reduces mystery. Since the rise of television and movies, now social media, we’ve become a very visual culture. We want to be shown, not told about characters, so we can imagine and deduce our own conclusions about them. Gone are long passages at the start of stories, telling of a particular character or place. We want to be shown a character and decide for ourselves if who and where they are and what they’re doing is interesting enough to read on. We can do this by showing a story through series of events, actions, dialogue, thoughts and feelings, rather than over-telling it through exposition, description and summarising. For example, this is telling the reader Mich’s emotions:

A raging temper flamed through Mich.

Feeling words often indicate telling rather than showing, as they’re abstract concepts. Whereas this shows Mich’s emotion:

Mich tightened his sword grip.

From this concrete detail, the reader is able to deduce their own conclusions about Mich – is he angry, nervous or simply well-trained? It’s up to the reader to decide.

Over-Showing

However, writers can also over-show. We don’t need to know every single thing a character does or says. We can be selective and in that way communicate a far more accurate sense of who a character is and what they’re doing. Over-showing can ruin pace, rhythm and tone. For example, if your character sees their father’s workshop on fire, we can assume they’re worried for his safety. We don’t need to know their every thought and reaction:

What if his father was still inside? He could be in danger! If he was fast, he might save others too.

Unless such details have relevance to the plot, tension or character arc, we can cut them. Similarly, we don’t need to see Mich’s entire journey to his father’s workshop. This isn’t needed:

He pushed his way through crowds of people as panicked as sheep scampering from wolves.

“Have you seen my father?” he screamed at a family fleeing the flames.

The mother shook her head and herded her children past, studying Mich over her shoulder. Although her face was creased with worry, she possessed a calmness Mich envied.

This also isn’t needed:

Mich turned down one street after another, his feet pounding into the cobblestones, slippery from where people had thrown water over their homes, hoping to prevent the fire from spreading.

“Hey you!” shouted a guard, chucking water over a bakery shopfront. He emptied his bucket then strode towards Mich. “You’re going the wrong way!” His tone was daubed with disbelief. “Retreat to the forest!”

“I can’t!” Mich ran on. “I have to save my father!” He ducked down a shortcut.

All we really need here is a telling summary:

The streets were streaming with crowds fleeing towards the forest. Mich pushed past them all, pounding down lanes and shortcuts until he skidded to a stop outside the workshop. The cobblestones were slippery from where someone had tried dousing flames with water.

Over-Writing

We can also search manuscripts for over-writing. Mostly a smell is just a smell, and a sound is just a sound. Depending on the scene of course, this might be over-writing:

The scent of burnt flesh attacked his nostrils.

So might be this:

His tone was daubed with disbelief.

Scents don’t need to attack, and disbelief doesn’t need to daub. This is the writer’s secret poet reaching into the narrative.

Over-Explaining

Over-explaining can happen when writers don’t trust their readers to remember important information. This leads them to repeat information they’ve already conveyed, either exactly or in a similar form. For example, if Harry just offered William a year-long secondment in Japan, we don’t need to be told in the next scene:

William couldn’t wait to tell his family about the offer from Harry of a year-long secondment in Japan.

All we need is:

Likewise we don’t need William to recount the previous scene in detail when talking to his family. Although this would most likely happen in real life, we can simply summarise:

“I’ve got great news!” William grinned, then told them the details. “Can you believe it?”

Writers may also not trust readers to figure things out for themselves, so over-explain the obvious. For example:

“Hey you!” shouted a guard, chucking a bucket of water over a bakery shopfront so it wouldn’t catch fire, should flames reach this far into the town.

Over-explaining can also happen in dialogue. My favourite example of this comes from Jeff Vandermer’s ‘Wonderbook’. Imagine two penguins are talking:

“I am a penguin, Bob, and as you know because you too are a penguin, penguins are covered in feathers, although in this case, feathers are almost like fur.”

Since both Bob and the penguin speaking are penguins, they would never need to have this conversation. It’s over-explaining.

Over-explaining can also happen when the writer doubts their abilities, so doubles up. In this example, the writer both tells and shows the same thing:

Fred was indifferent to William’s news. “Whatever,” Fred muttered, not even looking at William as he spoke.

Over-Poeticising

We can also search manuscripts for the over-use of poetic devices. In action sequences, such as this one, similes and metaphors can slow down the pace, so these are not needed:

• tart like a gulp of mead that had sat in the sun too long
• a sky as dark as his heart
• a fire emblazoned the darkness, mirroring his rage
• gripped at his sword like the life he now wanted to save
• people as panicked as sheep scampering from wolves

Overlap

There’s some overlap among all the above ‘Over Blight’ searches. For example, ‘A raging temper flamed through Mich’ could be over-poeticising as well as over-telling. But a search for each of the above should help regardless.