Showing posts with label Elmore Leonard. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Elmore Leonard. Show all posts

Wednesday, 5 July 2017

Elmore Leonard on Writing

Elmore Leonard started out writing westerns, then turned his talents to crime fiction. He has written more than forty novels, including bestsellers Up in Honey's Room, The Hot Kid, Mr. Paradise, Tishomingo Blues, Pagan Babies, and Glitz: A Novel.

Many of his books have been made into movies. Unlike most genre writers, however, Leonard is taken seriously by the literary crowd.

Back in 2001 he wrote a short piece for The New York Times, called Easy on the Adverbs, Exclamation Points and Especially Hooptedoodle.

He rewrote that in 2007 and published it as an 85 page book under the title Elmore Leonard's 10 Rules of Writing.

What follows here is the essence of his original advice. 


 



These are rules I've picked up along the way to help me remain invisible when I'm writing a book, to help me show rather than tell what's taking place in the story. If you have a facility for language and imagery and the sound of your voice pleases you, invisibility is not what you are after, and you can skip the rules. Still, you might look them over. 

1. Never open a book with weather.

If it's only to create atmosphere, and not a character's reaction to the weather, you don't want to go on too long. The reader is apt to leaf ahead looking for people. There are exceptions. If you happen to be Barry Lopez, who has more ways to describe ice and snow than an Eskimo, you can do all the weather reporting you want. 

2. Avoid prologues. 

They can be annoying, especially a prologue following an introduction that comes after a foreword. But these are ordinarily found in nonfiction. A prologue in a novel is backstory, and you can drop it in anywhere you want. There is a prologue in John Steinbeck's Sweet Thursday, but it's O.K. because a character in the book makes the point of what my rules are all about. He says: 

I like a lot of talk in a book and I don't like to have nobody tell me what the guy that's talking looks like. I want to figure out what he looks like from the way he talks... figure out what the guy's thinking from what he says. I like some description but not too much of that.... Sometimes I want a book to break loose with a bunch of hooptedoodle.... Spin up some pretty words maybe or sing a little song with language. That's nice. But I wish it was set aside so I don't have to read it. I don't want hooptedoodle to get mixed up with the story.
Killshot (2008)

3. Never use a verb other than "said" to carry dialogue.

The line of dialogue belongs to the character; the verb is the writer sticking his nose in. But said is far less intrusive than grumbled, gasped, cautioned, lied. I once noticed Mary McCarthy ending a line of dialogue with ''she asseverated,'' and had to stop reading to get the dictionary.

4. Never use an adverb to modify the verb "said"...


"... he admonished gravely." To use an adverb this way (or almost any way) is a mortal sin. The writer is now exposing himself in earnest, using a word that distracts and can interrupt the rhythm of the exchange. I have a character in one of my books tell how she used to write historical romances "full of rape and adverbs."
 
Out of Sight (1998)

5. Keep your exclamation points under control.

You are allowed no more than two or three per 100,000 words of prose. If you have the knack of playing with exclaimers the way Tom Wolfe does, you can throw them in by the handful.

6. Never use the words ''suddenly'' or ''all hell broke loose.''

This rule doesn't require an explanation. I have noticed that writers who use "suddenly" tend to exercise less control in the application of exclamation points.

Jackie Brown (1997)

7. Use regional dialect, patois, sparingly.

Once you start spelling words in dialogue phonetically and loading the page with apostrophes, you won't be able to stop. Notice the way Annie Proulx captures the flavor of Wyoming voices in her book of short stories Close Range : Wyoming Stories.

8. Avoid detailed descriptions of characters.

Which Steinbeck covered. In Ernest Hemingway's Hills Like White Elephants what do the "American and the girl with him" look like? "She had taken off her hat and put it on the table." That's the only reference to a physical description in the story, and yet we see the couple and know them by their tones of voice, with not one adverb in sight.

Get Shorty (1995)

9. Don't go into great detail describing places and things. 

Unless you're Margaret Atwood and can paint scenes with language or write landscapes in the style of Jim Harrison. But even if you're good at it, you don't want descriptions that bring the action, the flow of the story, to a standstill.

And finally:


10. Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.


A rule that came to mind in 1983. Think of what you skip reading a novel: thick paragraphs of prose you can see have too many words in them. What the writer is doing, he's writing, perpetrating hooptedoodle, perhaps taking another shot at the weather, or has gone into the character's head, and the reader either knows what the guy's thinking or doesn't care. I'll bet you don't skip dialogue.


52 Pick-Up (1986)
My most important rule is one that sums up the 10.

If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it.


Or, if proper usage gets in the way, it may have to go. I can't allow what we learned in English composition to disrupt the sound and rhythm of the narrative. It's my attempt to remain invisible, not distract the reader from the story with obvious writing. (Joseph Conrad said something about words getting in the way of what you want to say.)

First posted: 14 August 2013

Wednesday, 21 August 2013

Elmore Leonard: 1925-2013

Elmore Leonard, 87, passed away last night. He was born in New Orleans, but spent most of his life in Detroit. He wrote 45 novels, many of which were made into movies. His books were, he said, "about people, with guns, in dire situations."

Leonard served in construction during World War II. After the war, he worked at an advertising agency, but got bored. So he started writing Westerns in his free time. He quit advertising to write full-time in 1961 and eventually moved into crime writing.

I always start with the characters. I get to page 300 and I start thinking about the ending.

The first part moves along O.K., and then I have to think about the second part, because the second part keeps it going. And then you've got to get to some new things, say around page 250. There is always those surprises near the end.
The first of his crime novels, Big Bounce, was rejected 84 times before it was published as a paperback in 1969.

He didn't have a best-seller until his 60th year, and few critics took him seriously before the 1990s.

________________________________________________________________________
“You asking me,” Catlett said, “do I know how to write down words on a piece of paper? That’s what you do, man, you put down one word after the other as it comes in your head. It isn’t like having to learn how to play the piano, like you have to learn notes. You already learned in school how to write, didn’t you? I hope so. You have the idea and you put down what you want to say. Then you get someone to add in the commas and shit where they belong, if you aren’t positive yourself. Maybe fix up the spelling where you have some tricky words. There people do that for you. Some, I’ve even seen scripts where I know words weren’t spelled right and there was hardly any commas in it. So I don’t think it’s too important. You come to the last page you write in ‘Fade out’ and that’s the end, you’re done.” ~Elmore Leonard, Get Shorty
________________________________________________________________________

Wednesday, 14 August 2013

Elmore Leonard on Writing

Elmore Leonard started out writing westerns, then turned his talents to crime fiction. He has written more than forty novels, including bestsellers Up in Honey's Room, The Hot Kid, Mr. Paradise, Tishomingo Blues, Pagan Babies, and Glitz: A Novel.

Many of his books have been made into movies. Unlike most genre writers, however, Leonard is taken seriously by the literary crowd.

Back in 2001 he wrote a short piece for The New York Times, called Easy on the Adverbs, Exclamation Points and Especially Hooptedoodle.

He rewrote that in 2007 and published it as an 85 page book under the title Elmore Leonard's 10 Rules of Writing.

What follows here is the essence of his original advice. 

 

___________________________________________________

These are rules I've picked up along the way to help me remain invisible when I'm writing a book, to help me show rather than tell what's taking place in the story. If you have a facility for language and imagery and the sound of your voice pleases you, invisibility is not what you are after, and you can skip the rules. Still, you might look them over.

1. Never open a book with weather.

If it's only to create atmosphere, and not a character's reaction to the weather, you don't want to go on too long. The reader is apt to leaf ahead looking for people. There are exceptions. If you happen to be Barry Lopez, who has more ways to describe ice and snow than an Eskimo, you can do all the weather reporting you want. 

2. Avoid prologues. 

They can be annoying, especially a prologue following an introduction that comes after a foreword. But these are ordinarily found in nonfiction. A prologue in a novel is backstory, and you can drop it in anywhere you want. There is a prologue in John Steinbeck's Sweet Thursday, but it's O.K. because a character in the book makes the point of what my rules are all about. He says: 

I like a lot of talk in a book and I don't like to have nobody tell me what the guy that's talking looks like. I want to figure out what he looks like from the way he talks... figure out what the guy's thinking from what he says. I like some description but not too much of that.... Sometimes I want a book to break loose with a bunch of hooptedoodle.... Spin up some pretty words maybe or sing a little song with language. That's nice. But I wish it was set aside so I don't have to read it. I don't want hooptedoodle to get mixed up with the story.
Killshot (2008)

3. Never use a verb other than "said" to carry dialogue.

The line of dialogue belongs to the character; the verb is the writer sticking his nose in. But said is far less intrusive than grumbled, gasped, cautioned, lied. I once noticed Mary McCarthy ending a line of dialogue with ''she asseverated,'' and had to stop reading to get the dictionary.

4. Never use an adverb to modify the verb "said"...


"... he admonished gravely." To use an adverb this way (or almost any way) is a mortal sin. The writer is now exposing himself in earnest, using a word that distracts and can interrupt the rhythm of the exchange. I have a character in one of my books tell how she used to write historical romances "full of rape and adverbs."
 
Out of Sight (1998)

5. Keep your exclamation points under control.

You are allowed no more than two or three per 100,000 words of prose. If you have the knack of playing with exclaimers the way Tom Wolfe does, you can throw them in by the handful.

6. Never use the words ''suddenly'' or ''all hell broke loose.''

This rule doesn't require an explanation. I have noticed that writers who use "suddenly" tend to exercise less control in the application of exclamation points.

Jackie Brown (1997)

7. Use regional dialect, patois, sparingly.

Once you start spelling words in dialogue phonetically and loading the page with apostrophes, you won't be able to stop. Notice the way Annie Proulx captures the flavor of Wyoming voices in her book of short stories Close Range : Wyoming Stories.

8. Avoid detailed descriptions of characters.

Which Steinbeck covered. In Ernest Hemingway's Hills Like White Elephants what do the "American and the girl with him" look like? "She had taken off her hat and put it on the table." That's the only reference to a physical description in the story, and yet we see the couple and know them by their tones of voice, with not one adverb in sight.

Get Shorty (1995)

9. Don't go into great detail describing places and things. 

Unless you're Margaret Atwood and can paint scenes with language or write landscapes in the style of Jim Harrison. But even if you're good at it, you don't want descriptions that bring the action, the flow of the story, to a standstill.

And finally:


10. Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.


A rule that came to mind in 1983. Think of what you skip reading a novel: thick paragraphs of prose you can see have too many words in them. What the writer is doing, he's writing, perpetrating hooptedoodle, perhaps taking another shot at the weather, or has gone into the character's head, and the reader either knows what the guy's thinking or doesn't care. I'll bet you don't skip dialogue.


52 Pick-Up (1986)
My most important rule is one that sums up the 10.

If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it.


Or, if proper usage gets in the way, it may have to go. I can't allow what we learned in English composition to disrupt the sound and rhythm of the narrative. It's my attempt to remain invisible, not distract the reader from the story with obvious writing. (Joseph Conrad said something about words getting in the way of what you want to say.)