Novel writing - Michelle Richmond

The Story Behind The Marriage Pact

Where do novels come from? The ether? The collective unconscious? Some combination of events, relationships, experiences, and books in the writer’s past? I imagine it’s different for everyone, but one thing I do know is that every novel has to begin with a spark: an idea of character, situation, or premise that makes one think, “This could be a novel.” Once a novel takes off, once you get past page fifteen or so–for me, anyway–it begins to come from somewhere else. Then, it becomes a matter of characters acting and reacting to their situations; it becomes a matter of orchestrating the plot in a way that creates tension. But the spark, that frisson of idea that sets the whole thing off, is another matter. The spark always comes first.

In my experience, there is rarely one single thing that conjures a novel into being. Instead, a few moments and ideas converge to create a sort of windstorm in the mind, which leads to a “what-if?” which leads to the beginning of the creation of a fictional world and its inhabitants.

So what was the spark for my new psychological thriller, The Marriage Pact? It began with three rather disparate things:

Inspiration #1: LOVE

I’ve been married for 16 years (thanks, Kevin!), and I’ve written about marriage (and divorce) before in novels like Golden State. This time, I wanted to write about two people who are deeply in love and trying to make it work. I didn’t want to write a story of husband against wife, but rather a husband and wife together, struggling against a powerful outside force.

Inspiration #2: CULTS

The second inspiration was my longstanding fascination with cults–in particular, organizations that lure people in with the promise of helping them to live fuller, happier lives and be better versions of themselves. Some fashion themselves as religions, while others purport to be self-help movements. I wanted to explore why educated, reasonable individuals get drawn into these organizations and become so enmeshed that they leave behind family members, spend massive amounts of money to take seminars or courses, and even sign extreme contracts committing themselves to the organization for life and beyond.

Inspiration #3: THE FEDERAL CRIMINAL CODE

The third piece of the puzzle was The Federal Criminal Code, a massive tome, comprised of over a thousand pages of tiny print. The book, issued annually, outlines every crime you can think of, along with many you can’t, and the corresponding penalties. I wondered: What would happen if there were strict rules for marriage, and penalties for those who broke the rules? What if there was an organization that took marital “crimes” as seriously as other types of crimes? I wanted to put that concept under the microscope, take it as far as I could, and see what happened.

I talked about inspiration and more with Joe Hartlaub for Bookreporter. Read the author interview.

P.S. The Marriage Pact is on the Entertainment Weekly Must List this week!

Get The Marriage Pact

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Haruki Murakami on Kindness and Clarity

Why clear explanations are a matter of kindness, not to mention good storytelling

I recently came across Paris Review interview with Haruki Murakami. When asked how he chooses his story line and his voice, Murakami says,

I get some images and connect one piece to another. That’s the story line. Then I explain the story line to the reader. You should be very kind when you explain something. If you think, it’s okay; I know that, it’s a very arrogant thing. Easy words and good metaphors; good allegory. So that’s what I do. I explain everything very carefully and clearly.

I love the way Murakami connects authorial kindness with the reading experience. There is no place for arrogance in good storytelling. If you come from a place of, “The reader can figure it out,” you may be coming from a place of arrogance. Yes, reading is an active experience that requires thought, but reading should not necessarily require high wire acts of mental gymnastics.

Often, a lack of explanation comes not from arrogance, but from a genuine misunderstanding of what has actually made it onto the page. In this case, you’ll be well-served by having a trusted reader explain the story as he or she sees it. Listen openly, not defensively. Then, look for the missing links. What did you think was on the page that your trusted reader hasn’t figured out? If the reader’s experience of the story differs wildly from your intent, it can be tempting to blame the reader. “It’s there!” you might say. “On page 67, I mentioned how…”

But remember this: it isn’t the reader’s job to understand things that are opaque, to “get” something that is buried under layers of overwriting. No, it is the writer’s job to make things clear.

When you think about how to present your story to the reader, carefully and clearly should be your mantra. Carefully because each word matters, and clearly because clarity is the sign of a well-thought out story and a strong narrative voice. One of the highest compliments I can put in the margins of a book I’m editing is, “Yes, direct and clear!”

What the reader wants is:

clarity of story line
clarity of character motivation
clarity of language

Whether you’re writing a very literary novel, a mystery, or a memoir, most readers will appreciate directness. Tension arises from the choices characters are confronted with, how they respond to those choices, and the way in which the various puzzle pieces of your story are aligned–not from a sense of confusion intentionally introduced by the author.

I think Murakami is the perfect writer to deliver this message, because his novels are so complex and nuanced. His books are proof that one can be both straightforward and intellectually challenging; one can write with clarity and complexity. The two are not mutually exclusive.

Read the Paris Review interview with Haruki Murakami here.

Read The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle or Norwegian Wood.

How to Find a Literary Agent

Lately, I’ve been listening to a lot of podcasts while spring cleaning. I enjoy the format so much (particularly a podcast called The Heart of Organizing) that I decided to start my own podcast. It’s now live, and the first episode is How to Find a Literary Agent. In this 8-minute podcast, I talk about 5 things you can do to find the right literary agent to represent your book (hint: it does not involve giant indexes listing thousands of names and addresses).

Why is it so important to work with a good literary agent?
Signing on with a literary agent is the first step toward publication with a major publisher. Most publishers won’t even glance at unagented submissions. Your agent will be your partner in all things publishing. She’ll get your book out to the right editors, negotiate your contracts, and serve as your liaison for foreign rights.

She’ll handle all sorts of rights for each book–audio, book club editions, reprints, and more. I’ve been with my own agent since 2004, and I feel so fortunate to have found her. Without her, I would have had a very different (and I imagine far less satisfying) writing career.
Go here to listen to the podcast. If you like what you hear, you can click “follow” on the podcast page, so you’ll know when new episodes are added.

As always, happy writing!

Michelle Richmond
http://bookdoctor.org

Writers on Writing – Willa Cather on “Making It an Adventure”

In 1921, Willa Cather told an editor for the magazine Bookman that she only worked for two and a half to three hours each day. “If I made a chore of it, my enthusiasm would die,” she said. “I make it an adventure every day.”

Like so many other writers, Cather preferred working in the morning when she was “fresh” and unencumbered by the day’s concerns. I always prefer working in the morning, too, although my intentions are far better than my practice. For me, the key is getting up early enough to give myself at least an hour before I switch to “mom” mode, which means getting up not a minute later than 5:00. I go to bed most nights believing I will be out of bed by 5:00 the next morning, and then I roll out of bed closer to 6:30 or 7:00, chastising myself and promising to do better tomorrow.

Today was one of those rare days when I happened to live up to my nightly vow. By 5:05 I was at my desk with my coffee, writing. By 6:30, I had written three and a half pages. Those three and a half pages felt more like 20; I felt triumphant, as if I had accomplished a great deal.

And it only took one and a half hours! Cather is on to something here. If you work in short spurts–two hours instead of five–every minute of it is more likely to feel like an adventure. If you can’t afford two hours, try one. If you can’t afford an hour, try thirty minutes. University of Nebraska Press has published a whole book of Cather’s insightful advice on writing, with the utterly unpretentious and spot-on title, Willa Cather on Writing.

Alice Munro, by the way, is a writer who accomplished much of her early success while juggling writing with motherhood. First, she wrote while her youngest child napped, and later, she wrote while her children were at school. Toni Morrison’s time was so limited as a single mother with a nine-to-five job that the time she did manage to find at the typewriter was rich with possibility. “By the time I get to the paper something’s there,” she said. “I can produce.”

No matter when you are able to make it to your writing desk, or your notebook, try to approach it as an adventure, not a chore. Merely having the privilege of an hour to write can be an adventure in itself.

This week, when you sit down to write, attempt to do it with a sense of enthusiasm for the hour that you have, the hour that will never repeat itself, this spectacular, beautiful, unique hour in which anything can happen.